"How far we going to take this, Da?"
Murphy distantly listened to his brother ask the question that was currently running through his own mind. He heard his father give a response. A loaded response, with questions and constitutions, one that didn't answer anything but managed to answer everything all at once. Murphy tuned them out, feeling his brother shift on the bed next to him as he lay facing the opposite wall, his hands cradled beneath his head.
How far were they going to take it? Yakevetta was dead. Rocco was dead. Their faces were everywhere with warrants and bounties on their heads. Their Da had told them it was a sacrifice they would make for mankind. A sacrifice: become sinners to rid the world of sinners. What sense was that? But in the end, Murphy knew it made perfect sense.
They would go to Ireland and wait it out. Wait until people stopped demanding their heads. Wait until people stopped wanting to join their tirade. Wait until "The Saints" were just last year's story. But the waiting wouldn't change anything. One way or another, they had started something that they couldn't stop whether they wanted to or not.
Murphy closed his eyes. Why had they been chosen? Why had God spoken to them? But he knew the answer to that already. Because they would listen, that's why God chose them. They would listen and know that it wasn't some delusional nightmare. It was the voice of God calling them to service.
A sacrifice. One they were both willing to make, in the beginning. Now, Murphy questioned his willingness. They had come close to dying in that basement. Rocco had died. The blast from the gun had echoed in Murphy's ears for hours afterwards. It had come back to haunt him again in the courthouse, when he'd placed his gun against the head of Pappa Joe Yakavetta. When the prayer had spilled forth from his mouth and their bullets had silenced the murderer once and for all. In his place, the three of them had taken on his sins as their own. Even then, the echoed blast of the gun that killed Rocco had come back to him, echoing with the new blast. Murphy knew it would come back to him every time he pulled the trigger.
Every time he took on someone else's sin in the name of God.
How far would they take this? With Rocco's dying words, "You never stop," Murphy had been ready to kill them all. But now, after all of it, he didn't know. What would it take for them to stop? Murphy already knew the answer. It would take death. When one of them died, so would the others.
Closing his eyes, Murphy let out a sigh. Connor's hand reached to his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Murphy had his answer.
How far would they take this?
As far as God would allow.