Devil Came Down to Georgia

She’s got a good head on her shoulders. That's what Gran said. Daddy and Uncle Hector said it too. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. 

So even though the brimstone in the air is making her eyes water, even though the scalding ground is making the rubber soles of her shoes soft, and he’s looking at her with fire in his eyes, she's come too far to back out now. This deal is too important to lose her head now.

“It’s the standard contract,” the devil says. The pinstripes on his suit aren’t black like she’d first thought. They’re red and shine in the red gleam of his eyes. “I get rid of the cancer and then you give me your soul on your dying day. That’s a good deal, right? You’ll have the rest of your lives together.” 

Amberly hunches over the paper and her shoulders shake. He thinks she’s crying, he thinks she’s trying to muster up the courage to sign, but she’s not. She’s reading the fine print because it’s the only part of the paper that’s not red. It’s black, blacker than anything she’s ever seen and she knows it would do know good to let her eyes skip over it.

Amberly bites her lip until the blood wells.When it drops, it falls on one word, Just one. Her blood eats through the ink, steaming and hissing. Amberly breathes in the smoke and feels the word settle deep in her lungs.

Then, when she’s done, she stands tall and looks the devil dead in the eye. His smile falters when he sees she has the same fire in her eyes as him when he sees that there are no tear tracks on her face.

“Sure,” Amberly says, her heart going a mile a minute. “That’s a good deal.”

His smile returns full force when she signs it. He gently takes the paper and presses his own bloodied finger to sign it and promises she won’t see him again until she’s on her deathbed.

She knows she’ll be seeing him a lot sooner than that.

Owen’s cancer disappears like smoke between one doctor's appointment and the next. They talk about equipment errors and inconclusive biopsies before sending them on their way. Owen’s hand is sweaty in Amberly’s and his shoulders are shaking. He’s trying not to cry, and he succeeds until they get in their car. Amberly holds him and coos in his ear as he falls apart. 

“It’s a miracle,” Owen says as he takes his first pain-free breath in months. “A miracle.”

Her grandmother knows better. It’s just her and Gran a few days later sitting in the doctor’s office waiting on her results. 

“You made a deal,” Gran says. It’s not a question. Amberly can find no judgment in her eyes. “You’ve got his cancer.”

Amberly nods, calm and serene in the paper hospital gown. Her breath comes in short bursts these days and she refused to waste it.

“You're a fool,” says her grandmother. “A lovestruck fool.”

“Lovestruck,” Amberly states. “But not a fool.”

Her grandmother stares at her. After a long moment, relief breaks over her face like a wave in the ocean. “The devil made a deal with you.”

Amberly notes the way Gran phrased it. The way it puts her in power. She knows Gran understands. She nods anyway her eyes aflame.

“You know,” Gran starts. “Your Gramps was a fiddler. It's no surprise he passed it on to you.”

Amberly was not going to wait until she was on her death bed, lungs shuddering and heart straining. She refused to let Owen see her like that. She won’t let him see the stakes of the game she’s playing. Owen is pure and good and doesn’t have the strength of her family’s history behind him like she does.

She’s alone when she puts one bullet in the chamber, gives it a spin, locks it into place, and holds it to her head. One in six, pretty good odds. 

The devil arrives as she pulls the trigger, the smell of brimstone no longer making her eyes water. They stare at each other, fire to fire, as the gun clicks. Empty.

“Well,” he says, “I can’t say I expected you to kill yourself. You didn’t even manage to load the gun properly. Here, if you insist, I’ll help you” He reaches forward and his nails are such a deep red that they appear black.

She turns the gun on him and cocks back the hammer. 

The devil blinks in confusion. Behind him his shadow writhes and hisses. He says, “Why you know that won’t do a thing to me, my dear Amberly.”

            “I do,” she agrees, “Unless you are in breach of your contract. Then it’s a different story isn’t it?”

The fire in his eyes swells until everything around them is consumed by it. The heat rises through the floor but she knows better now. It can’t touch her through her soles now, she got tough feet.

“I don’t go back on a deal,” he says, hissing through his teeth. “Owen’s cancer is gone, isn’t it? I’d say that I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. I’m just waiting to collect on your end.” He eyes her gun and grins ghoulishly. “Care to make that sooner than later?” He eyes her chest. “Though by the smell of it, I could take you now and it wouldn’t make a difference.”

“You take me and you’ll get a bullet between your eyes,” Amberly says. “Well, one of five chances anyway. You take me Devil and you’ll die one way or another.”

“And what makes you say that?” He coiled like a snake. “You can’t hurt me. I’m the devil. And you made a deal with me. There ain’t no stoppin’ the train you're on, sweetheart. No stoppin’ at all.” He takes an aggressive step over.

She pulls the trigger. He freezes for a moment when the gun clicks, face falling into a blank mask. “What was that?”

“That was your odds getting smaller,” Amberly tells him, her voice hard. “One out of four now Devil.”

“You can’t hurt me,” he reiterated, somewhere between angered and frustrated. It’s not a place you want the devil to be. “You made a deal.” He takes another step.

She pulls the trigger again and clicks her tongue with the sound of the gun. “One out of three… you might wanna check that contract before you keep playing with fire.”

With a swirl of fire and shadow, the contract appears in his hand. He sneers and looks down, red eyes flying over the words. Amberly watches him slow down. Stop. Start again.

“And I, Satan, Lucifer the Morningstar, the Devil,” Amberly quotes, “will allow the signer of this contract to spend the rest of life with Owen.”

“Rest of her life, “ the devil says. “Her life.” The paper crinkles in his hands, nails piercing through where he grips too hard.

That’s what it used to say before she willed her blood to erase the word. One word. That’s all Amberly needed.

The smile on her face is too sharp for any ordinary woman. “You should have read the fine print darlin’,” she drawls. Amberly cocks back the hammer. “Owen and I will spend the rest of life together. So the devil has promised.”

“No,” he says. “You don’t get to change the contract. I make the contract! Not you!” He bellows the last word as fire springs into existence around her.

Amberly stands tall in the flames and grits her teeth. “You signed second. That means you made a deal with me. And let me tell you, I’m not happy like you swore. Take the cancer Devil, or we’re going to find out how many times I have to pull this trigger to see you dead.”

He seethes. The room around them grows unbearably hot, the wind outside howls, and there is hate in his eyes when he looks at her. She can see the second he decides what to do. He says, ”Your mistaken little girl. I may have to let you and your beloved live until the end, but it says nothing about taking your cancer, only his.”

She meets his gaze evenly. “So you won’t take my cancer?”

“No,” he says bearing his teeth. “Not unless you want to make another deal.” His face sours. “This time with me.”

Amberly nods thoughtfully, letting him think he’s won. When he steps forward, she waits until he’s halfway to her. Then she pulls the trigger. The Devil freezes, eyes flying wide, and he doesn’t have time to leave.

The gun clicks and she smiles sickly sweet. “50/50 next time. You still wanna play this game?”

The devil snarls, everything charming going away. “You! Fine, I’ll take your cancer, I’ll allow your happiness. You’ve won this round girlie, but you can’t win them all. To the end of life? Fine! That’s plenty of time for me to get even, just mark my words. You’ll have children and grandchildren and they’ll see me soon enough. I promise you that.”

Amberly’s hand is steady and she doesn’t lower the gun. As she takes her first pain-free breath in days. When she manages to exhale without problem, she opens her mouth and laughs in the devil's face.

She says, “Your going to hound me until the end of life? Fine! I’ll take your challenge, Devil.” Amberly continues, “I have a bullet with your name on it and a fifty percent chance of success. Any descendant of mine will be a fiddler just like my grandpa, and just like me.” Amberly looks him dead in the eyes, “You take your chances Devil and I’ll take mine.”