Page 121 of Bad Seed
“You killed those people.”
He twists the outer layer of his walking stick and reveals the secret blade hidden inside. “It was an accident.”
“No. Packed in like that. No one could have shifted without squashing the others. They were trapped in that crate with no way to get out.”
A soft gasp rises from Green while Red digs his grubby nails into my skin. Didn’t they figure it out? Mr. Ato was supposed to bring in loyalists to the Brassicas, but he paid off the dockworker to ensure they wouldn’t make it here. To ensure that the Brassicas would dwindle in numbers but have no way to prove it was him.
Metal catches on the light. The blade slices through the air without the deftness of a swordsman, but he doesn’t need it.
“If they really wanted to survive, one of them would have shifted first and fled. That is the law of this world. Eat or be eaten. Squish or be squished.” His sunken round eyes easily dismissed as pudgy take on the heartless glare of a shark smelling blood.
The knife swings. I wrench my arms, trying to yank free, but the Bells have me.
Fuck!Pain wells up on my right shoulder, right above the graze, then another swipe splits open my chest. Hot, sticky blood weeps through my undershirt as I grit my jaw.
Mr. Ato’s grinning like a child at a birthday party. He’s found his piñata and isn’t going to let anyone else have a turn. “You broke my heart, Talong.”
He winds the knife back for a deep cut. “I think I’ll break yours.”
“They know!” I shout. The knife pauses a hair from hacking into my throat. “The Brassicas.”
“Of course they know about their fallen companions. I told them myself. Along with condolences and a lovely floral arrangement.” He’s dismissing me, but the knife doesn’t cut.
“No. They know about your plans to take out the entire family.”
Rage. It bursts so fast across Mr. Ato’s face, I brace for his attack. Instead of gutting me like a fish, he whirls on Red. “How does he know that? Did you fucking tell him? Did you tell them?”
“No. Boss, I swear!”
“Aaaah!” Mr. Ato punches Red’s skull right where it’s still bleeding. The man screams in agony and crumbles to his knees.
“Hey!” Green shouts. “That’s my brother!” He lets go of me and lunges at the boss.
Despite having the height and muscle on Mr. Ato, he doesn’t have the righteous anger. Without a second thought, Mr. Ato spins his gun out and smashes Green across the face. The pistol whip splits open his cheek nearly to the bone.
I turn away, gorge rising at the visible muscle undulating under flapping skin as Green screams. Even in pain, he tries to help his brother, who shoves him away. Red’s disoriented and hobbling, trying to slink into the corner like the coward he is. They’re awful people, but even they don’t deserve this.
Deep down they love him. We all did.
Because if we didn’t, he’d kill us.
And, for as much as I can’t stand the Bells, I can’t let them hurt either.
“The Squash found me,” I shout just as Mr. Ato’s reaching down to grab Red by the collar.
“What?”
“They offered me a job. Said that I was going to need a new line of work after the Brassicas took you out. That didn’t make a lick of sense. Why would they wipe you out when you’re needed to control the docks, unless…”
Mr. Ato licks his lips. His face pulls as he realizes there’s a drop of someone’s blood on the side of his mouth. After wiping it away with a handkerchief, he picks up his glass of whiskey and downs it in one throw. “Here,” he says, pushing over the second glass.
I stare at it.
“It’sGlenfiddich. Older than you.”
My arms ache but I take the damn glass while he pours himself a third. He’s never drunk on jobs, but not exactly sober either. Paying me absolutely no mind, Mr. Ato savors his drink this time and finishes by peering through the amber liquid.
“We drank this that first night on Cebu. Do you remember?”
