Page 39 of Enemy
As soon as I walk into the cave, its cool shadows are a stark contrast to the sunshine outside. It’s in these caverns and passages that our most lucrative (and most illegal) business is conducted. Here, many of the adults from our community do shifts on production and packing of herbs and mushrooms with properties some would describe as magical, capable of opening one’s third eye a bit wider, and broadening one’s conscience. But I’m not the kind of guy who wraps reality in pretty words. It’s drugs.
My attention is sharp as soon as I hear Parker yelling ahead, illuminated by the yellow light of the many lamps hanging on the rock walls.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, son of a bitch! I told you I needed my car done today!”
Two bodies twist on the ground like two alligators locked in a deadly dance, and I dash forward, spotting Isaac’s favorite T-shirt. The last thing I fucking need is our best mechanic getting injured. I reach the two fighting men in time to see Isaac roll away fromParker’s grip. Blood colors his teeth as he snarls before delivering a hard punch that has the onlookers cheering him on. At least the knife is on the ground.
But this is not fucking entertainment. As strong as Isaac is, we need his fingers nimble and intact. Vehicles and appliances won’t repair themselves.
Parker’s eyes are so wide they might pop out of their sockets at any moment, and when he tries to leap at his opponent with a harsh cry, I grab him in a headlock.
“Third fucking strike!”
Parker screams out in fury, kicking his feet and grabbing my forearm. “He needs to do his damn job!”
Does he think I’m kidding? “No one’s fixing anything for you. You’re getting banished, shithead.”
Something must have gotten through his thick skull, because he stills.
Isaac is heaving as he wipes his mouth. “I told you not to start! Your fucking loss.”
“What was this even about?” I ask, kicking the back of Parker’s knee to make him drop. He smells like a goat, and it’s best I keep his sweaty neck as far away as possible.
I have a quick thought that I might have to shower again before I go see Clyde, only to remember I’mnotseeing him today. It pisses me off so much I kick Parker once more for good measure.
“Isaac delivered my car, and this idiot got offended,” Suzie explains, stepping out of the crowd in the same gray overalls everyone in her work detail is wearing.
“I fucking told him I need my truck this weekend. It’s an emergency!” Parker growls and twists around so he can face us both. He’s not looking well, and judging by all the sweat glinting on his skin, and the crazy eyes, he must have helped himself to some of the stock while at work.
The people get a massive discount on some of the stuff, as long as they don’t overindulge, but I’ve lost my patience for this junkie. We shouldn’t have let him move here in the first place, but it’s never just my decision.
“A gig isnota fucking emergency,” Isaac growls and cleans himself with the handkerchief someone handed him. “You’ll have to wait for your turn like everyone else.”
“Nah, he’s out,” I say, meeting Isaac’s gaze. “Get Hank to haul the car to the nearest town. This bastard’s on his own.”
I fully expect Parker to start begging for another chance, but his features twist with fury. He gets up on wobbly legs, holding on to his side. “Oh yeah? Just you motherfuckerswait! Would hate if word got out about what you’re cooking.” Parker shows me the middle finger on top of this threat. He’s out of his mind.
My hand shoots forward, grabs, and then twists the offending digit with a nasty crack. He’s at my feet, screaming like a banshee. Look at that, someone as delicate as him should know not to be such a loudmouth.
“You have a death wish?” I ask, kicking him over so I can see his face.
The voices around us are hushed now, so I easily hear a softthumpnearby. I turn, confused, only to spot Creep straightening. It takes me a second, but I glance up. He must have jumped down from the ledge next to a crevice high up on the wall. How did he get there in the first place? Fuck knows. That man is like some cave-crawling creature, and even Prophet doesn’t know where he sleeps.
Creep stares past me with eyes black as beetles. “Parker, do you really claim you’ll go to the cops when you’re a fugitive? We know you escaped from jail in Texas,” he delivers the information calmly, but there’s something disturbing in his blank expression. He licks one of his fangs as though he’s a vampire on the prowl for a victim. Or a mountain lion that will pounce on Parker’s back the moment he turns.
Parker freezes, maybe even sobering up a little at the threat. So I add another one. “Be a good boy, or I’ll come for you. You have until sundown to get yourself out of here.”
Everyone’s quiet now, and I can practically hear the crowd around us breathing as they await the final result of the confrontation. Parker’s chin trembles, but then he’s off, muttering beneath his breath. I catch Creep’s gaze, and he nods.
“I can keep an eye on him.”
I walk up to Isaac and pat him on the back. “You good?”
He nods and gives me a quick pat as well. “Thanks for having my back. Some time ago, you said your bike was making a noise. You want me to squeeze you in? I could take a look at it,” he says as everyone is ushered back to their jobs, deeper in the cave.
My mouth drops open, because I’ve forgotten about it. Clyde said the same thing once happened to him and dealt with the weird noise for me two weeks back. He looked really hot fixing my bike in the sun, hair in a ponytail.
“Ah… it was just a loose cover. Dealt with it myself, but thanks,” I tell him and pat his back.
