by Bijou Hunter
Glancing at Pixie, I know she’ll run away. She won’t settle down until she sees her family.
I hold Bronco’s gaze and explain as respectfully as I can, “She needs to convince her family to come.”
Maybe Bronco understands how, if I don’t get Pixie’s family with his help, that I’ll go back later and take them alone. He’s a smart man who must show strength. Except I’m acting weak and stupid. He needs me to listen to him, but I have no choice. Pixie will go back to the Village if I don’t save her family. John Marks could kill her. Would Bronco let his honey die? No, so how come I need to be a bitch and put mine at risk?
“Bringing Village freaks here,” Wyatt grumbles, moving away from me and toward his father, Rooster, in case I get grabby again, “is a bad idea. What the fuck are they going to do in the Woodlands?”
I realize right away how Wyatt’s big mouth is the reason I’ll get what I want. Bronco can’t stand his nephew, and he likes to undercut the younger man. Having Wyatt say no inspires Bronco to say yes.
“If we drive into the Village and demand her family, we’ll piss off a lot of people,” Bronco says and then smirks at Lowell. “We’ll make Marks appear weak. The Volkshalberd believe weakness is a sign of a poor bloodline.”
“His people will also think of how Pixie fucked with Marks and got fed. How they behave and starve,” Lowell says and glances at Pixie pacing around my black SUV. “We can go in there respectful, or we can go in like a bunch of assholes.”
“I’ve never been respectful, and I’m not starting now,” Bronco says, nearly snarling. “If those Village shits want to think of me as a Parrish, I’ll show them how the Parrish family handles a problem. Get everyone saddled up. We’re going in hard.”
Exhaling quietly, I ignore Wyatt’s anger and Bronco’s quick disapproving glance at me. I turn around toward Pixie, who instantly notices my gaze on her.
“Let’s get Mama,” she says breathlessly when I approach.
“You have to stay calm,” I insist, and she shakes her head. “You can’t run around or jump out of the car when we get there. No yelling for your family.”
Pixie can’t obey. She grew up with “no” on the tip of her tongue. Apparently, the Dandelion Collective was big on expressing oneself. Living in the Village under the thumb of Marks must drive her nuts.
As much as I understand how she wants to break free, Pixie doesn’t know how the world outside her cult works.
“If you don’t behave, your family might die,” I say, and she stops shaking her head. “The Village has guns. My club has guns.”
Pixie runs her fingers over her chest. “Guns kill. Like Papa.”
“Yes, and there will be a lot of nervous people holding those guns. If you run around or yell, they might make a mistake and start shooting.” Pixie’s dark eyes study my face. Her father was killed by a gun. She doesn’t understand them like I do. That’s why she agrees to behave and let me take charge. “Whatever happens, stay in the car. Don’t run around, looking for your mama. Okay?”
Her expression is as unreadable as Bronco’s was earlier. Then she smiles and takes my hand with both of hers. “You’re strong like a grand sequoia.”
“And I’ll keep you safe if you let me.”
Pixie lets go of me and messes with her pants. Though I worry she’ll yank them off and run around bare ass, she isn’t a child. She understands rules, even if she hates them. That’s why I’m certain she’ll do as I tell her when we get to the Village.
PIXIE
As we return to the Village, the black car—called an SUV—is surrounded by big bikes. Anders keeps glancing at me in the seat next to his. He’s nervous. I am too. I woke up feeling as if Mama might be in her next story. No matter how strong, she can’t fight the demon guns.
“Mama,” I whisper as we arrive at the Village’s front gates.
“Don’t leave the car,” Anders tells me again.
“What if Mama is dead? Will you get Dove and Future?”
“I’m taking your family with us.”
Nodding, I want to tell him how he is so strong and special. But Anders is in his angry bear mood, and I worry nice words might upset him.
Holding a demon gun, Jeffiko stands at the gate and refuses to let us inside. The biker men have many more weapons. I see a few of them point theirs at the single man at the gate. Anders touches his demon gun between the seats.
“Don’t,” he says when I put my fingers on it.
“I need to have a weapon. I can shoot them in the face,” I say, touching myself where the bullet erased Myles’s eyes and nose yesterday.
Anders flashes a panicked look at me. “You’re going to get killed, and I’ll never have a honey. Why can’t you just do what I say?”
“Because I have feelings of my own,” I mumble.
“Please, Pixie, let me handle this. I swear I’ll do right by your family.”
My heart cares so much for Anders, but I can’t be in chains to his will. I have to protect my family and tell people no. If I’m not me, I’m not anyone.
But I don’t know how to fight all these angry people. I can’t work the demon gun. There’s a button on it that makes the bullet come out, but I don’t understand how that works. Anders does, and his friends do. Mama says to know when to bow. I will do that today at the Village—for my family and Anders.
The Executioners make their bikes loud enough that I have to cover my ears. Finally, Jeffiko backs down and opens the gate. He shouldn’t be helping John Marks, anyway. Jeffiko’s family is as hungry as mine. Why doesn’t he use his demon gun on that fat man stealing our food?
A few big bikes roar past Anders and me. The SUV bounces on the rocky road leading to the Village. I wrap my arms around myself and press my lips together. No yelling or jumping out of the car. I’m going to bow, while Anders and his big friends handle the dumb tyrant and his brainless toadies.
“I’ll roll down my window, so you can hear what’s said,” Anders whispers as the SUV stops moving. “That doesn’t mean you should jump out or help with the conversation.”
“I’m not a kid.”
“Prove it.”
Though I frown at him, Anders doesn’t see me since he’s busy getting out of the SUV.
Nearby, several brainless toadies hurry to face the Executioners. Most are young men who believe they’re regaining the glory stolen from them. Except the Village has always been poor. Our crops are never enough to feed the community. Every winter I’ve been here, people struggled to survive.
Yet, these young men believe they can defeat a hardened enemy. I notice them fumbling with their demon guns. Meanwhile, the biker men show no fear. Yesterday, Myles shot at Anders first, yet the younger man is the one living his next story. The Volkshalberd can’t win against the Executioners.
Gunther hurries over and gestures for the younger men to lower their demon guns. The male guide believes in the old ways, including how the Village shouldn’t fight larger forces like the government or the Executioners. Gunther no longer gets a say, though. Not since the witless tyrant came along and wanted guns.
I hear Bronco talk about how the biker men will take demon guns instead of money. Gunther doesn’t know what to say. He isn’t the torch bearer and can’t decide. John Marks should speak to Bronco, but he’s afraid. I’d laugh in his ugly face if I weren’t so scared for my family.
“We will inform our torch bearer of your offer, Mister Parrish,” Gunther says to Bronco.
“John Marks is going to get you all killed,” says the biker man. “I hope his leadership is worth your dead families.”
A very nervous Gunther still doesn’t know how to respond. The young men are playing with their demon guns. The Executioners begin roaring their bike engines. I want so badly to speak up and ask about Mama. Instead, I keep my mouth covered, so I won’t forget to stay quiet.
Once the younger Volkshalberd lower their weapons, Bronco signals his men to quiet their engines.
“Before
we go, we want the girl’s family,” he says. “Get them out here, so we can leave.”
“I can’t agree to such a thing without a discussion with the torch bearer.”
“Is my girl out there?” Mama yells from farther in the Village.
As my heart leaps at the sound of her voice, I scoot closer to the front window.
Gunther notices me and points. “You took a member of our community. That wasn’t part of the punishment set forth months ago.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Bronco mutters. “Is that her mother?”
Mama rushing forward. I feel sick at the sight of bruises on her beautiful face. Future is wrapped in her arms. Mama drags a weak Dove along. As they get closer, I see my mama’s swollen lip. Clenching my hands, I want to punch my enemies.
“Where’s my girl?” Mama asks Anders. “You took her.”
The grand sequoia remains silent against my mother’s anger. He only gestures to the car. I wave at Mama.
“Come out, Pixie.”
Shaking my head, I wave for her to join me. Mama refuses to get into this SUV or go with these biker men. She wears the same expression as when the government men came to our commune and killed Papa.
“Give her back,” she growls up at Anders. He doesn’t speak, though Bronco tries. Mama waves him off. “You took my girl.”
I promised Anders I would remain quiet, but I see the young men playing with their guns again. I also notice Bronco’s shoulders getting tight like when Anders is upset. Mama won’t bow.
I open the door, drawing everyone’s gaze to me. Stepping out, I look right in my mama’s fair blue eyes. I find fear and rage storming inside them.
I think of how Anders said the people at the Village should rise up against Marks. If the Volkshalberd were hungry enough, they would fight. I don’t know if that’s true. But in case he’s right, I choose my words carefully.
“Mama, food,” I say in my strongest voice. “We need to eat.”
I don’t know if those words will stir up anger in the hearts of the Volkshalberd against the torch bearer and his toadies. I do know Mama’s resolve cracks. She looks at a limp Future in her arms. Even when he hears my voice, my brother can’t lift his head. Dove seems ready to collapse. Mama pretends to be a rock, but I see how she struggles to hold Future.
“Come, Mama,” I say, waving for her to move toward the car.
I tug at the door handle in the back seat, but it doesn’t open. Anders leans into the SUV and hits a button. Opening the door, I gesture for my family to climb inside.
Mama lifts her jaw and looks back at Gunther. “Your war is starving the gifts of my womb. I will return when it’s over.”
Then Mama tugs Dove forward. My sister doesn’t want to get into the SUV. She remembers when the government put us in their big black vehicles and took us away. She rubs her face nervously, thinking Papa’s blood is on it again. Despite her fears, my sister is too weak to fight Mama.
I climb in the back with them and shut the door. Mama reaches over Dove to hug me.
“My girl,” she says, soaking in the love I offer her. “You smell strange.”
“It’s the soap at Anders’s house.”
Mama grips my jaw and makes me look her in the eye. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
Even when we’re starving and surrounded by armed men from two different factions, I would never tell Mama an untruth. She smiles at me and then looks at her children.
Anders leans into the car and asks Mama, “Where’s your husband?”
“John Marks took Perry aside when I wouldn’t bow. I don’t know if he lives or not. I suspect Perry was bribed to turn against me, but I don’t know.”
“Perry will be fine,” I say, focused on feeding my family. “Look, Mama, fruit and bread.”
Future cries at the sight of an apple. He loves them so much. Dove smells the bread before shoving an entire slice into her mouth.
“Did you eat?” Mama asks me.
Ashamed, I nod. “Anders fed me a lot.”
“Good. You need to be strong. That’s what is important.”
“Don’t be scared,” I whisper. “Anders has a big house and lots of food.”
Mama’s gaze flashes to him with the other men. Then she whispers loudly, “Nothing’s free in this world, Pixie. No one shares unless they want you to share with them. We have nothing to offer except your body.”
Outside the car, Anders’s muscles tense in response to Mama’s words. I think of his reaction to my naked body. Also, how he panicked over not having a honey, which he said means girlfriend or wife in his world. In exchange for my body, he will protect my family.
“Anders is a good man,” I tell Mama, but I’m really talking to the grand sequoia listening, too. “He worked hard to help us. You can trust him.”
Though I’m probably too emotional right now to see the downsides, I can’t think of any when it comes to being Anders’s honey.
ANDERS
The Village was founded long ago by men who believed their superior bloodlines needed protection. They bought land, put up their fences, lured in women, and bred a new community of believers. Then, they made up shit as they went along to keep people in line.
That’s why their dogma remains unclear. Pixie certainly doesn’t seem to know what they believe, and she’s lived with them for around three years. Besides working hard, maintaining bloodlines, and praying to the sun for blessings, the Volkshalberd—aka the people’s halberd—exist in the Village simply to avoid existing anywhere else.
Possibly, their lack of strong doctrine explains why a conman like John Marks swept into power so easily here.
Of course, I’ve never met anyone from his family. Apparently, decades ago, John, his sister, Steph, and their brother, Craig, were weak morons running Elko into the ground. The Marks family lost everything when Bronco and the five other founding members of the Executioners went to war with them.
All this happened back when I was a kid, before the drugs and the killing. Yet, I wasn’t innocent when Bronco seized this town. I’d already been ruined. No way could I imagine how my future would become linked to a long-simmering feud between two men—Bronco Parrish and John Marks.
Right now, dozens of people stand in the line of fire of this escalating war. Marks remains at a disadvantage against Bronco, despite the angry armed men under his command. Some of his sheep are too weak to hold their weapons correctly. Others don’t seem to know how to use them. Even outgunned, these true believers want blood.
If the shooting starts, they’ll aim for Bronco. Marks has undoubtedly filled their heads with how the Executioners’ president is behind all of the Village’s problems. If only they can rid Elko of this single man, the Volkshalberd will flourish.
I’ve seen how bad men lie to keep their moron followers in check. I heard plenty of bullshit from Lonnie. He also thought killing Bronco and taking out the Executioners would make him more money than he could count. I suspect he believed his own bullshit right up until I started cutting off his head.
Today, though, John Marks isn’t front and center to be killed. He sent his idiot followers to play cannon fodder. The Executioners are ready for a shootout, having survived more than a few over the years.
My concern is keeping Bronco safe. The other men matter, sure. Yet, they weren’t the ones to offer me a new life. Dying for Bronco is my purpose. I’ve believed that for years.
Except now there’s Pixie and her family. I feel them behind me in the car. Fairuza’s voice is as clear as day when she says I only want Pixie for her body. I’m a monster using my power to force her to submit.
Then Pixie defends me, saying I’m a good man with a big heart. In her eyes, I’m not a big hulking thing, only useful for violence. I’m Pixie’s giant sequoia, her blond bear. I’m filled with sunshine and other crap I don’t believe. Whether or not she’s naïve, I really like hearing her praise.
That’s why I don’t know how I’ll react if the sho
oting starts.
Next to me is Bronco, the man who saved me from my past. Behind me is Pixie, the woman who offers me a future. I’m a big guy, but even I can’t act as a shield for them both.
“Gunther,” Bronco says to the old man with his braided beard and dirty feet, “the Volkshalberd and the Executioners lived side by side in Elko for a long time. Former torch bearers wouldn’t have allowed this to happen.”
Bronco’s playing with the old man’s mind. Gunther knows, too. Like most of the Volkshalberd, he only wants a meal and to be left in peace.
However, nothing will convince me the Volkshalberd are good people. There’s always been a nasty underbelly to them. Not just in the mismanagement of their resources or how they allowed a man like John Marks to take leadership. Their talk of strong bloodlines rubs me the wrong way. My father was a bad man. How many people believed I was filth because his blood flowed through me? Even as a baby, I got judged. That’s how shitty people think.
So, no matter what happens today or in the future, I will never trust the Volkshalberd.
“It is what it is,” Gunther tells Bronco. “I can no more force my will on the torch bearer than a man can force the sun to rise in the west.”
Bronco rolls his eyes. “You bow to a vain weakling, Gunther. There’s no honor in kissing his ass, so skip the bullshit about the world forcing your hand. If the shooting starts, your torch bearer won’t act as armor. You’ll be dead with an empty belly. No matter your beliefs, you’ll die a fucking idiot.”
Glancing at me, Bronco lowers his voice. “Do you have your people?”
“I don’t know about the stepdad.”
“He isn’t available,” Gunther says immediately.
There’s something about his expression that makes me think Perry might not be alive. Or possibly, he bowed when his woman wouldn’t. After all, Fairuza is sporting a nasty black eye and a swollen lip.
No way to be certain, though. John Marks is banking on juggling lies and loyalties long enough to get what he wants out of the Volkshalberd. I have no doubt he’ll ditch them as soon as the bill comes due for all the shit he’s pulled. Until then, he wants to keep up appearances, and killing Perry may not be good for morale.
