“It is unfortunate that the Council elders do not approve of our methods.”
“They are fools,” she hissed.
“You shouldn’t let it upset you so. They are old men who can’t see the truth. Together, we will transform the Movement. Our vision is true. Tens of thousands of our brothers and sisters will follow our leadership. The time for patience is over, while the time for action is upon us.”
She rose from her chair and walked around the table, then sat on Leonard’s lap and cradled his face in her palms.
“It is our destiny to carry forward the fight that many of the great chiefs from generations ago had undertaken,” she said. “And we will be victorious.”
Leonard wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer, and kissed her passionately.
She pushed away. “Later, my wild buck.” She wore a coy smile. “The technicians will soon be finished.”
None of the workers lived on the reservation. They were all Caucasian and Hispanic, and had been recruited from a couple drug labs that operated in remote swaths of northern Nevada. They were all outlaws with criminal records for drug dealing and possession. They’d been working in meth labs—a dangerous job that required attention to detail, commitment to following directions to the letter, and the ability to synthesize dangerous chemicals while wearing personal protection gear. This typically comprised gauntlet-style neoprene gloves and a full-face respirator.
They’d eagerly accepted the temporary job Leonard offered at three times their normal compensation. Half was paid upon arrival at Leonard’s lab, and half was promised upon completion of the job.
Leonard sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” He patted her on the butt as she rose. “Besides, I have a trench to dig.”
s
As Leonard was walking to the backhoe, the door to the lab opened.
One of the technicians called out, “Hey, man. The job’s done.”
They no longer wore the bulky hazmat suits and gloves.
Leonard turned to face the worker, and pointed toward the other trailer.
“You can go inside and clean up, have some whiskey. Sacheen has the remainder of your pay.”
Sacheen heard the sound of the backhoe diesel engine firing up as the five technicians entered and sat around the table.
“We passed Leonard outside. He said you have our money.”
“Yeah. And whiskey,” another said.
“I’d settled for a night in the sac with you,” said a third, with lust-filled eyes.
“Settle down, boys.” She reached into a kitchen cabinet and tossed a cloth bank bag on the table.
Bundles of hundred-dollar bills spilled out. The five men all grabbed for it at the same time.
“Ten grand for each of you,” she said. “Just as Leonard promised. There are five bundles there. Each still has the currency strap applied at the bank. That’s ten thousand dollars per bundle. Count it if you like.”
“I believe I will. Not that I don’t trust you. But just to avoid any mistakes.”
“Knock yourself out.” She retrieved a bottle and five shot glasses from the cabinet, and placed them on the table. “Help yourself to a drink. You deserve it. You all did a good job.”
The technicians powered down two shots each, sharing trivial banter and occasional laughs, before taking a breather and returning to counting the cash. The smallest man at the table was the first to feel the effects. His arms, overcome by the force of gravity, fell to his side, the half-filled shot glass crashing to the floor.
“What the hell?” said another.
Then he, too, slumped in his chair. Soon, they all were immobilized. They were still breathing, and their eyes still moved about, communicating terror.
The diesel engine had quieted, and Leonard entered through the door. He paused, surveying the limp bodies surrounding the table.
“Shit. What did you give them?”
She smiled. “Conium. It’s an alkaloid extracted from hemlock. Works by paralysis.”
“You mean, these guys aren’t dead? They’re just paralyzed? I thought you were going to poison them.”
She nodded. “That’s what I did. Given enough time, the paralysis will stop their heart and respiration, but the skeletal muscles are affected first.”
“No kidding. And fast, too.”
“Yeah. I guess I did put a lot of the alkaloid in the whiskey. I wasn’t sure how much they would drink. As it turns out, they drank plenty.”
Leonard poked one of the men in the shoulder. Motionless, he stared back with listless eyes.
“Well, then, let’s get on with it,” Leonard said. “You take their feet, and I’ll grab their arms.”
One by one, he and Sacheen carried the paralyzed men out of the trailer, to the trench he’d just dug with the backhoe. Standing at the edge, they dropped the bodies in. Side by side, Sacheen and Leonard looked into the deep trench. The victims were still alive and breathing shallowly. Those who had come to rest on their back looked up in abject horror, knowing what was about to come.
“Say goodbye,” Leonard said to Sacheen, but also to the paralyzed men.
She waved. “Bye-bye.”
Leonard climbed into the seat of the backhoe and started the engine. A puff of sooty smoke belched from the exhaust before the engine settled into a throaty rumble. He moved the hydraulics control levers to scoop a bucket full of dirt, and dumped it over the bodies. He repeated the process over and over.
In five minutes, the trench was filled.
Chapter 10
The sound of the toilet flushing awoke Leonard. Sacheen was at the sink, splashing water on her face. The nausea had subsided almost as fast as it had come on.
Leonard turned onto his side. The glow of the nightlight glistened off her sweat-soaked body, and he admired her curves through sleepy
