Wanted: Undead or Alive

The Second Law of Thermodynamics

No matter how big of a guy he was, Moose was acting like a pouting child. He sat with his arms crossed and stared out of the passenger's window like a 2000s emo kid contemplating the unfairness of life. My attempts at conversation earned me a grunt that I took to mean he was feeling better, a scowl that may have meant he was thankful to still be alive, and multiple monosyllabic answers that gave me no real information whatsoever.

I found the whole act ridiculous. I never asked to be a babysitter... or babysat... or whatever, but it didn't seem worth the effort to have an argument, so I cranked up the radio and let Paul Cauthen fill the awkward silence by singing about "Everybody Walkin' This Land."

He sang about praying to make it through the day, and I echoed the lyrics in my heart. I'd never considered my own mortality much in the past, but things being what they were, I was starting to think about it more. Then he got to the bit about believing that a wide variety of assholes could find redemption, and I smacked the power button to shut it off.

Moose rose far enough out of his stupor to look at me like I'd lost my mind.

"What if Sathanas is seeking redemption?"

"He's a demon."

Because I have the willpower of a saint, I did not answer by thanking Captain Obvious. "Do demons have emotions?"

He rolled his eyes and directed his attention to the landscape beyond the window again.

"If you don't answer my questions, I'll just ask Mx. Landry," I threatened.

"Mx. Landry thinks you're a flat-out liability," he answered without looking at me.

Rude. True, but rude. I played the only card I had. It had worked for me pretty well so far. "The more I know, the less of a liability I am."

He sighed like a man asked to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I don't know if demons have emotions. Probably. I mean, they feel anger, hate, rage, all that, right? Those are emotions."

"But if they're capable of all that, maybe they're capable of love, too."

"They're not," he said.

I braked at a red light and tapped my fingers on the Honda's steering wheel. "Why do you think that?"

At last, he turned to look at me. "Because they're demons."

"So?"

"So, demons, by definition, are apart from everything that's good and love is good, so they can't feel love because then they wouldn't be demons anymore."

The light turned green, and I accelerated. I left the radio off, hoping the thought that hovered just out of reach would show itself, but the longer I drove, the fuzzier it all got until I realized I was wondering if Chantelle still had her old buffalo chicken dip recipe.

I needed to work on my focus issues if I was going to stay in this line of work, or else I might get myself killed. Again.

I peeked over at Moose. "Why did you tell Nick not to heal you?"

He continued to stare out of the window. "Because of the second law of thermodynamics."

We turned left and passed an old lady going five miles an hour under the speed limit. "Explain it to me like I'm five years old."

Moose looked at me then, and I saw the sarcastic comment trying to form on his swollen lips. To his credit, he didn't disparage me. "Everything in the universe is moving toward rot. In an isolated system, activity causes the movement to speed up."

So far, so good. I assured him I was following.

"Your usual bodily functions... Let's say they require an energy output of five units. Given no interference from outside sources, you're moving at a rate of twenty-five miles per hour toward death."