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
