by Jay Vielle
“Sure,” said Nick, turning towards us. “You heard the man. Start walking.”
We all rose and began to trek back the way we had originally come. We’d all moved about ten yards down the field when I heard Nick ask Troy if Larry had given him any money yet.
“No. Why? Did he give you some?” asked Troy.
“No. Me neither. It’s been a week. We’ve had several truckloads go out this week, and more than a few slaves too. I just wondered. I mean, he hasn’t mentioned anything about it to me.”
“No, he ain’t mentioned nothing to me neither. And we have done a lot of business in one week. No, no I haven’t been paid, come to think of it. Been too busy chasing down new slaves all day long.”
“Think we oughta ask him? Larry, I mean?”
“And piss him off? You wanna end up like Dwyer?” asked Troy.
“No, but I don’t wanna work for less than I was getting when we were legit, either,” he said.
“Maybe if we ask him nice. I mean, respectful and all,” Troy said. “I mean, it’s business, right?”
“Besides, we’re about to make a buncha money on this one. We’re gonna sell these people for a shit-ton. The last ones weren’t very fit, and the girls were kinda ugly. This crew just loaded up all our shit in that little bit of time. Just look at ‘em. There’s four young ones, that tough old shit that tackled you, and a buncha hot chicks. Only one probably won’t make it is that old army dude. He’s pretty old. He’s limpin’, sweatin’, breathin’ hard. Shit, he don’t look like he might make it to the front of the school,” Troy chuckled.
Nick watched the Colonel struggle up the hill along the path. Then looked down and started chewing on his lip again. We kept marching up the hill towards the front of the school. Al and Jake looked all around. Al was obviously looking for Maureen. I’m guessing Jake was taking in the scene, trying to make a plan of some kind. The Colonel was sweating furiously. He was in good shape for a man his age, but he was nevertheless a man in his sixties. He lifted his forearms to his face to wipe some of the sweat, then grabbed at his glasses for a moment. He squinted, then looked over at a portable classroom trailer in the back of the school. I watched the Colonel for a moment, then risked a glance over there at the trailer. I found the girls. Morgan was on the porch entrance, and another arm was visible in the doorway. Guessing either Wendy or Estela. I shot a glance over to Jake’s direction. He gave a quick look at the trailer, the faintest hint of a nod, then looked back down at the ground.
After a few hundred yards we were in front of the school, on the side nearest the football field. There was a passenger van parked in front, with two men standing near it whom I had not seen when we arrived. I looked off to the right to an additional parking lot, and our bus was there with the doors open. I could see our stuff in the back seats still piled up. They apparently had not yet taken the time to remove it.
Troy had parked the Gator and hopped out and was talking with Nick again. You could see by their expressions that they were getting agitated. I hoped that the Colonel’s questions had gotten to them—gotten in their heads—but for the life of me couldn’t figure out how that would help us now. Even if we could sew seeds of dissent among our captors, they were about to sell us to a new owner. The girls were about to suffer indignities that I couldn’t bear to think about, and the status of this gang of ex-cons was going in my ‘couldn’t care less’ file. If things went south for them, it wouldn’t matter to us. We weren’t going to be here very much longer. I found my thoughts drifting back to what it must have been like being a slave on a Southern plantation, and waking up to find your family members had been sold off over a dinner meeting the night before, and knowing you could do absolutely nothing to prevent it. I felt a lump of despair in my throat as we reached the sidewalk by the bus lane.
Lawrence was out in front talking to the two men. He had a beer in his hand, a pistol holstered around his waist like an old-time cowboy, and he was talking in a loud voice with lots of gestures. Larry was a showman, after all—which is probably why he was able to charm a bunch of former prisoners to join him in killing their only means of financial support--in hopes of a new life of power and money in a post-apocalyptic Virginia hill town. The sniper in the press box had come down to walk us to our point of sale. Nick had taken point and led our group, with Troy riding along in the Gator. We were well-covered by several thugs, still tied, and exhausted from our previous work in the greenhouse. The Colonel was beginning to falter. That had to be hard for him. He had been a veteran of several tours in the Middle East, and he had been bested by American hooligans—and his own advancing age. Al’s face began to twist into a sneer of disgust and desperation. He kept trying to look back a Maureen, but the reality of what was coming approached with every step. The men he had undoubtedly hoped, like I did, to be his saviors—Jake, the Colonel, maybe even Glen—were all gone. Jake walked quietly, slightly twisting his zip-tied wrists back and forth slightly.
Finally our meager procession arrived at the front of the school, where Lawrence and his two new business partners awaited. The long sliding door of the passenger van was open, and I knew we were headed to God knows where. The two men Lawrence were talking to had accents that sounded a bit like Russian. That gave me a chill. I had seen too many movies recently with vicious Russian mobsters who did unspeakable things to get their way, and I had to admit to myself that I was deathly afraid now. Ironic that someone like myself—who has always fought against racial and gender bias, stereotyping, and homophobia would succumb to some of it myself here and now that my life of freedom was over. But I guess who we are in times of strife is who we are down deep.
“Privyet, druz’ya,” said one of the men. He was tall and had slicked back hair and a tattoo on his neck. “Welcome. I’m sure you will like your new accommodations,” he said laughing.
“They sure will, Sergei,” said Lawrence, laughing as well. “This bunch does nice work. Thought they were gonna be a problem, but they shaped up nice. They brought some ladies with them too, if you’re interested. I had my eye on one or two of ‘em myself, but since you gentlemen brought so much money with you, I thought maybe we would help you fill your van up.”
“Spasibo,” said Sergei. “I think our relationship is going to be much more profitable than the one I had with your former employer, Mr. Dwyer.”
“I’ll drink to that,” said Lawrence, tipping his beer bottle up for a swig. “Hey Trevor,” he yelled. “Go fetch the ladies from that trailer over there.”
“What if they’re in the middle of something, boss? I heard Clint say he was pretty horny and wanted to get right to it.”
“Then you tell Clint to finish fast. These gentlemen don’t want to wait any longer for their goods,” said Lawrence. Trevor nodded and started walking over to the trailer where we had seen the girls.
“Now then, comrade,” Sergei said with smile. “Let’s see what I’m getting for my money.”
Lawrence gestured with nod of his head and Nick poked us with his gun and told us to move on. We walked up to the sidewalk next to the van.
“These young ones are big and strong,” said Sergei. “But these two are old,” he said gesturing towards Jake and the Colonel. “And these two look like women,” nodding at me and Al. Al sneered at Sergei and Lawrence back-handed him in the face.
“Don’t be disrespectful to your new owner,” he said. Al looked at the pavement. “Yeah, Sergei, these two are young bucks, big muscles. And I see your point about these two sissies. But don’t be fooled about the old guys. One is in the army, and the other has got some fight in him. Tried to wrestle Nick here when they first arrived. Took him down pretty hard, too. They’re probably a lot tougher than they look. They’re worth the money, trust me. They moved a lot of your new cannabis plants into the truck today. They’ll serve.”
“I will trust you, my friend” said Sergei. “But you’d better be telling me the truth, or the next deal will not be so lucrative for you.”
> “No worries, Sergei. They’ll be fine,” said Lawrence.
Trevor came walking up with the girls. Morgan had one of her shirt sleeves ripped. I shuddered to think what had happened and tried to shut it away.
“And here’s the ladies,” said Lawrence. “Nice group, like I told you.”
Sergei’s face lit into a big smile. He nodded while looking at each of them. In truth, I don’t think I’ve ever been attracted physically to a girl, but if someone asked me, I would have said that all of them were pretty. Estela, Wendy, Maureen, Jada, and Morgan—who ranged in ages from teens to forties—were good-looking women. And unfortunately, I knew what happened to good-looking women in all of the Russian mobster movies I had seen.
“These are lovely ladies,” said Sergei. “You were telling the truth, Lawrence. I did not trust you. Have they been—touched?”
Lawrence looked at Trevor. “Well?”
“Clint was smooching on this one here, but never got her clothes off,” said Trevor, pointing at Morgan. “At least, not all of her clothes off.”
“For that I will give you a bonus,” said Sergei, producing a round wad of bills secured with a rubber band. “Incentive for you to continue to deal with us honestly.”
Larry took the wad of bills with a smile and shoved them in his pants pocket. Nick looked at Troy and frowned. Troy’s eyes narrowed and he nodded ever so slightly. Nick pursed his lips a moment, then moved forward.
“Nice bonus, boss,” he said. “What you get for this bunch?”
“Don’t you worry about that, Nick. You don’t exactly have a head for figures,” Larry said, laughing. Sergei laughed with him.
“Maybe not, but I understand buying and selling. What’s the going rate for eleven people these days?” he asked.
“I said don’t worry about it,” Lawrence retorted, this time more sharply. “You just help get them in the fucking van.”
Nick looked at Troy. “Troy, you know how much the boss is selling these folks for?”
“I sure don’t,” said Troy. “Boss?”
“What is this,” said Lawrence. “Why are you two so fucking nosey about my business dealings?” Sergei began to shift uncomfortably and shot a questioning glance at his colleague.
“Our business dealings,” Nick corrected him. “We’re in this together, remember? Partners? A team.”
“You do call us a team, Larry,” said Troy.
“Yeah, but you’re my fucking team. I’m the owner, general manager, and head coach. You just shut the fuck up and run the plays I tell you, got it?” said Lawrence. “This is not the time for this shit.”
“Maybe not, but we haven’t seen a dime since we started with you a week ago,” said Nick. “Not exactly how a team is supposed to work.”
“You ain’t getting three squares a day?” said Larry.
“I got that in Lorton,” said Nick. “So did you. We still in prison, Larry?”
“You got booze to drink, food to eat, weed to smoke, women to fuck, and the free air to walk around in a town that I run. That sound like prison to you? I’m getting a little tired of this conversation Nick.”
Trevor looked up nervously at Troy and Nick. It was clear from his expression that he wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from or where it was going. He looked at Larry, who was red in the face and furious.
“Just wondering about your finances is all,” said Nick. “You sold a lotta weed this week, even more today, and now you’re selling eleven people. Eleven slaves. I’m just wondering where all that money is going, cause it ain’t seen my pockets yet.”
“Look, let me deal with Sergei here and get this transaction taken care of, then I can explain it all to you. But right now you’re making me look bad, and I’ve got half a mind to blow your fucking head off right now because of it,” said Larry, quickly pulling his pistol and pointing it at Nick.
Nick raised his gun to Larry now as well.
“That how it’s gonna be, boss? You gonna shoot me just for asking questions? Troy, maybe you were right. Maybe he is keeping it all and we’re just slaves ourselves—no better than this bunch.”
“Troy don’t you get into this shit too,” said Larry. “I’ll kill both you motherfuckers right now,” Larry shouted, now moving his pistol back and forth from Troy to Nick. “Trevor, put a gun on one of these two.”
Trevor lifted his rifle at Nick, while Larry held his gun on Troy.
“We can all calm down and get out of this in one piece, but this disrespect is gonna cost you two,” said Larry.
“Won’t cost me nothing,” said Nick. “I ain’t been paid yet.”
“There’s other ways for you to pay, though,” said Larry.
“Lawrence, you and I have business. Let’s settle it and I’ll be on my way,” said Sergei.
“Gimme a second Sergei,” said Larry. “Things have gotten a little tense here. Maybe it’s good for you to see what happens to people that don’t show me proper respect.”
Just then we heard Clint trotting up the path from the trailer with his pistol drawn. He sidled up to Trevor and asked, “What the fuck is going on?”
“Nick and Troy asked the boss when they were gonna get paid, and now everybody’s pointing a gun at each other,” said Trevor. Clint lifted his gun up and pointed it at Troy.
“I got him, Boss. Why don’t you finish up your business and then you can deal with these two,” said Clint. Now Clint was holding a gun on Troy, who was holding one on Larry. Trevor had his rifle pointed at Nick, who also had a gun on Larry. Larry lowered his gun and nodded at Clint and Trevor.
“You two have crossed the line,” Larry said.
“You raised your gun at me first. And you haven’t answered the fucking question yet,” said Nick. “Clint, Trevor. You two get paid yet?”
“Shut the fuck up, Nick,” said Trevor. “We got it good here. Things are happening. Don’t fuck this up.”
“Don’t fuck what up?” said Nick. “You’re just as much a slave as these people here. Working for free. Putting up with bullshit. At least Dwyer gave me a check every two weeks. I ain’t seen shit since Virginia’s answer to Tony Montana here decided to take over the fucking town. It was just a simple question, Larry. All you had to do was answer. But the fact that you got all pissed and pointed a gun at my face tells me all I need to know. Doesn’t it Troy? This fucker ain’t paying nobody. He’s keeping it all for himself. Don’t sound much like a team to me. And I’m gonna help you sell these people, two of which are veterans, into white fucking slavery just so you can line your goddamn pockets thicker than they already are?”
Troy nodded, and Larry sneered and pointed his pistol back at Nick.
“You are going to die for this, motherfucker,” said Larry.
I looked around at the girls. Their eyes were wide with fear. The Colonel, still sweating and breathing hard, was watching the whole seen with incredulity. Al was tense, immobilized. Even the two college boys, Jake’s sons, were agape at the entire scene. Everyone seemed braced for a giant shootout, and we were standing in the crossfire with nowhere to run. Just then, a shot rang out, but no matter where anyone looked, we couldn’t see who had pulled the trigger. Heads turned in desperate swivels to see who had fired, but no guns were smoking.
Then Clint slumped to the ground, a puddle of blood forming under him. Standing behind him was Glen Billings. I couldn’t believe it. Just then, Jake raised his tied hands together above his head like he was praying, gritted his teeth, and brought his hands down hard with exertion and something like a growl. The plastic bit into his flesh instantly, then the zip ties exploded off of him. His hand were free. He wrenched Larry’s pistol out of his hand and onto the ground. Larry clubbed him in the back of the head with the beer bottle, which didn’t break, but sent Jake down to the pavement on both knees. Trevor pointed the rifle at Jake instinctively, and Glen promptly shot Trevor in the head. Trevor’s skull exploded and his rifle fired suddenly before his limp body dropped to the ground. Sergei’s
associate was hit in the chest. He clutched at his breast before falling to the ground with a gurgling sound coming from his throat and blood bubbling out of his mouth.
“Bozhe moy,” shouted Sergei, raising his hands.
Then Glen pointed his gun at Nick.
“Let them go. Let us all go,” said Glen.
“Nick, Troy,” said Larry. “We can work this out between us. Money is just money. Shoot this fucker right here, let Sergei leave with his property, and I’ll give you this wad of cash right now,” said Larry.
He reached in his pocket and held it out. We all stood tense, watching what Nick would do. Troy was looking solely at Nick. He held his pistol on Larry, but his hands were shaking violently now. Nick was staring at the wad of money with his pistol on Larry as well. Sergei stood completely still with his hands up, staring at his compatriot’s lifeless body next to the van.
“Let us go right now or I’ll blow your head off too,” said Glen to Nick.
Nick just stood there for a moment, looking back and forth at Larry, Sergei, Troy, and Glen. Then he took a breath. Sergei glanced at his lifeless partner on the concrete, then slowly stepped forward.
“Excuse me, Nick, is it?” said Sergei. “I have already paid for my property, yes? And certainly this business between you and Lawrence doesn’t involve me. I have already lost a valuable colleague today, for which I will not be compensated. Why not let me take what I have paid for and leave—how you say—in one piece, and I will allow you to work this out yourselves, eh?”
Larry was motionless, his hand still out offering the wad of cash. Glen held his gun on Nick. Troy held his gun on Larry. Sergei now stood next to Larry. Nick stared at the two of them. He looked at Troy, nodded, and slowly reached out to take the cash.
My heart sunk.
Nick put the cash in his pocket. Larry smiled and exhaled. Troy looked cautiously at Nick, somewhat unsure of himself. Nick fingered his pocket a bit, feeling the wad of money in it. Then he turned ever so slightly and looked at the Colonel. Then suddenly Nick lifted his pistol and shot both Larry and Sergei in the face. Troy stood agape. Glen’s eyes bulged and his mouth dropped, and he lowered his pistol in confusion. Jake was still on his knees. Larry and Oleg’s blood had spattered all over his shirt.