He is still coming.
I can’t see him. I don’t think I want to see him, but I know he’s there. El Diablo tells me, every minute of the day, to run, run far away, as far as I can from the angel of death. I have not slept for weeks. I am not even sure I know how long it has been since I left Villa del Punta, since I took out Duarte and scattered his men. It feels like one long, unending nightmare.
I feel like an old man. I am an old man. Older than I should be. Did Javier know this would happen? I would curse him if I did not
My horse went lame two days ago. I traded her for a mule. This wretched beast is too slow for El Diablo’s liking. She nags me worse than any wife—faster, faster. Never stopping. Never slowing.
I know the angel is closing in. He came to me in dreams, demanding I return
