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“I rebuild transmissions,” Kurtis said, sipping black coffee. “I don’t kill people.”

Across the muddy yard, in a single-wide that smelled of stale motor oil and regret, another Smith watched the same broadcast. Kurtis Smith. The older brother. The one who got the grades, the quiet temperament, and the restraining order. While Christopher— Chris —was off decapitating people with helmet-mounted lasers for “peace,” Kurtis was fixing alternators and pretending his last name wasn’t a felony. peacemakers brother dc comics

For the first time in years, he didn’t feel alone in the silence. “I rebuild transmissions

He turned off the TV. The phone rang. Unknown number. ” Kurtis said

“Chris.”

“Shoot him,” Suarez ordered.