They don’t call each other that shit. Using my last name is about reminding everyone how my mother was Dafne Parrish. I come from trash. In their way of thinking, that means I’ll always be trash. Bloodlines are important to the idiots in the Village.
“Then pay what you owe us. Based on our intel, you’ve sold twenty grand worth of product. We expect ten percent of the profit. Consider yourself lucky that we don’t assume you’ve sold double that from the stash we know you grow here,” I tell Hester since Gunther’s fake friendly shit annoys me. “If not, we’ll shut down your supply line by closing off the Village. There’s been an understanding between the club and the Volkshalberd for decades. You keep to yourselves and follow the rules, and we don’t ask questions about what you do out here. We also make sure the cops don’t get curious either. If you’re looking to change those terms, Hester, I can make a few calls.”
“What’s this about our bus?” demands a dark-haired woman who rushes over with a toddler on her hip. “You can’t keep our people hostage.”
Gunther and Hester share a look while the woman glares at me.
“Answer up,” she growls.
“Were you around twenty years ago when the former leader of the Village told the club no? If so, you should understand how this is a battle you can’t win.”
“Hush, Fairuza,” Gunther insists, realizing how his good cop crap is now outnumbered by allies playing bad cops.
“Naw, I wasn’t here,” Fairuza says, lifting her chin definitely.
“My club created a blockade. Your cult couldn’t go into town to sell their wares or buy anything. If someone was sick, they stayed put. If someone ran out of food, they had to get creative. No one left for a month and a half before your former leader caved.”
“Bullies,” Fairuza mutters, waving me off. “Let the bus go. My girls are on it, and I don’t want them messing with the likes of any of you.”
“Hush,” Gunther says with more force.
I notice a few of the men move to silence the willful woman. Fairuza sees them coming, tightens her grip on the small boy in her arms, and takes off running. I admit it’s a funny sight, seeing her dodge those full-grown men and even bulldozing past one. They run into the woods, where she’ll either find a hiding place until trouble dies down or pay the price for her stubbornness. Again, I never worry about what happens in the Village.
“Will you pay or will you play hardball?” I ask Hester, getting back on track.
The two elders whisper to each other. Gunther doesn’t show his cards, but I suspect they’re unprepared for whatever trouble they’re planning to cause. The guns they’ve been buying aren’t enough to take on the Executioners or even the police.
Gunther shuffles over in his bare feet and explains quietly how they are short of the money they owe.
“It’s been spent.”
“How is that my problem?” I ask, not buying his humble pie bullshit. “You knew we were coming out here. What the fuck did you think we wanted?”
“There’s been upheaval in the Village since the winter. Times are troubled.”
“Again, you’re telling me shit that’s not my concern.”
“Aye, but you can’t get blood from a stone, Mister Parrish. How should we offer what we don’t have?”
“Fine, I’ll give you a few weeks to get your shit in order. Then instead of ten percent, you owe fifteen. You’ll pay for the weed when you pay for the rest of your shit. If you hold out, we’ll block your asses in this compound until you beg. Understand, Gunther?”
“Yes. I will share this with our new torch-bearer.”
Leaning down so only he can hear me, I whisper, “I know you fucks are plotting something. If you think we aren’t plotting too, you’ve been smoking too much of your product.”
I step back and look over the people watching us. A small crowd has assembled. Most are young, strong men itching for a fight. I figure a few of them will need to die in the immediate future to keep the Village from believing they have a shot at running Elko. Whoever their new “torch-bearer” is, he seems to view war in the cult’s future. If so, we’ll make him regret that decision.
No way does Elko end up in the hands of these freaks. I’ll wipe out every man in this compound and let social services deal with the women and kids before I’ll sacrifice even an