The Trade

© R Wood 2000

24

What was I going to do? I had killed the best known enforcer in the history of the Trade. I wasn’t just dead, I was worse than dead.
I would be made into an example.

Indecision isn’t something I’m used to. Normally I’m in control, but I was way out of my league with this. I thought about not going back, just running, but to where? I thought about joining Darknight, but that wouldn’t wash. No, things would work out, I’d make sure of it. I wasn’t going to run. Thoughts about “you’ll only die tired” came to mind and I half smiled.

I got back to the center and made my way towards the truck without speaking to anyone. My imagination was running rampant and I thought everyone was staring at me. As I climbed into the cab, I realized that I wasn’t being paranoid. Everyone WAS staring at me.

Fuck.

I stopped and slowly turned in an arc. Everyone in the place – the crews, the mechanics, the hit squad – were stopping what they were doing and staring at me. A few people were smiling mildly, but I couldn’t read anyone’s expressions. Something had happened and I had a bad feeling that the storm was finally here.

Mambo walked up to me and I stepped off the running board to meet him. As I quietly closed the cab door, I hoped he could explain things.

“Hey Mason, dey ‘Man’ want to see you. In the office.”

When people said ‘The Man” they didn’t mean a crew boss like Jag, or even a dock manager. They meant THE Man. I never thought he was anything except a rumor mill ghost, but I guess I was wrong.

“Ok, thanks”.

He patted me on the shoulder and walked on like it was the last time he’d see me. My mind ran in circles like a terrified rat in an electrified maze. Why would “He” want to see me? I only run a truck. Of course, I also just killed a close friend of his.

My mouth tasted like sand as I walked past the other crews towards the corridor that leads to the offices. At one time the offices were concession stands, but have been converted to a better purpose. The main office still has a drain in the center of the floor to make mopping up messes easier.

Everything in my periphery seemed blurry and dark, like I had tunnel vision. I probably passed people, but the seemed like fleeting shadows with muffled voices. Anyone who might have spoken to me stayed back to avoid having my luck rub off on them. Hands off -
Dead Man Walking.

When I got within sight of the offices, something blocked my path. It was Maab and she had a concerned look on her face. I must have looked as pale as a ghost.

“What’s wrong? You look like shit.”

“I’ve been called to the office. Something’s happened.”

“I’m sure it’s some kind of promotion or something. You ought to relax, you’ll live longer.”

Yeah. About five seconds longer.

“No, you don’t understand. ‘The’ Man wants to see me.” I put enough stress on ‘The’ to get the point across and she seemed to understand it meant something.

“If I don’t come back, tell Chaz that he’s boss, ok?”

“Yeah, sure”, she said and looked puzzled. I thought about it and stepped close, pressing my lips to hers. She tilted her head up and kissed back, pushing her tongue between my lips. I pressed harder into the kiss for a moment, then eased off and stepped back.
That was the last woman I’d ever touch, at least until the maintenance crew stuffed my parts into a garbage bag.

“That’s goodbye.” I said and walked away. I could feel she was watching me, but I didn’t look back. I prayed that none of Koslov’s people were here. What was left of me might end up in his chair after all.

Enforcers clustered at the entrance to the office, but they didn’t have faces or voices. I held my arms out and let them frisk me, taking my weapons. When the door swung open, cold air washed over me. The cold sweat on my skin caused me to break into goosebumps.
It was as cold as a morgue in here.

Five men sat around a desk and looked at me as I entered. Jaeger sat next to an empty chair and patted it. Three of the other men, De Silva the arena boss, Wright the property manager, and BJ Williams the cattle caller I already knew. The fourth man, I had never seen before. This must be Him.

He was about thirty or thirty-five years old with an athletic build, short dark hair, and wrinkled swarthy skin. His eyes shone like polished coal and I could feel his stare from across the room. He was the kind of man that you could feel coming before you ever saw him. He motioned for me to sit and I carefully perched on the edge of the empty chair. I think I was holding my breath.

“So you’re Mason”, he said. His voice was deep and resonated throughout the room. His casual dress did little to dull his edge. A thin wisp of smoke trailed from the cigar in the tray in front of him.

“Yes. Yes sir.” I stammered.

My voice was little more than a croak because my mouth was as dry as styrofoam. Warmth flushed to my face and the cold chills started to subside, but came back with a shudder when I noticed that I was sitting over the drain.

“Been hearing things about you, boy. Like how your totals outstrip every truck team in my five sectors by at least eleven percent. De Silva here says that it’s been that way since you came on.”

“Y’know Eric, he sure keeps me busy!” BJ said. He laughed heartily and took a swallow of beer. BJ always seemed jovial, despite the circumstances.

Ok, I wasn’t dead which means he didn’t know about what happened. What did he want? I was too tense to speak and just nodded. His eyes didn’t waver from mine and I felt like I was being staring at by some kind of big mean canine. Steel bands had wrapped around my lungs and a midget called paranoia was cranking them tight.

“Mr. Jaeger here has put you over two other trucks and they’ve been breaking head counts too. That tells me you know how to make crews listen to you. I want to see if some of you can rub off on more than a few teams. As of now, you’re a crew boss along with Jaeger, Sasha, and Kris. That suit you?”

Another midgit named Hope cracked Paranoia over the head with a hammer. He lost his grip and the steel bands snapped lose enough that I could breathe again. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. I just hoped that there wasn’t a heavy drain underneath it to flush the pieces into. The damn midget got his grip and started twisting again. There had to be something else.

“Yes sir, it does.”

“Good. Pow-wow with Jaeger and Silva to see what trucks you take. You get first pick.”

I stood up and he offered his hand. His grip was as hard as cold steel, but his stare was harder. He was a predator in man’s clothes and this was a test. I couldn’t back down and survive.

“Jag talks about the instincts you’ve got for bagging trim and sniffing out Slops. I don’t want them lost because of inter-team competition. Understand me?”

“Yes sir”.

He had made his point and with one final squeeze, let my hand go. Blood rushed back into it and I felt spikes of pain as the nerves came alive again.

Jaeger and I walked out together with his arm across my shoulders. I was glad to be back into the warm, humid air of the arena and was elated. Once we were clear of the office floor, he spoke.

“I knew I saw something in you when we first met. Haven’t regretted bringing you in yet.”

“You better not, after the loads I’ve brought in for you. Ungrateful son of a bitch.” I was euphoric from being alive. Getting the kind of promotion was icing on the cake.

He laughed and patted my shoulder once before dropping his arm.

“I’m just saying I’m proud of you Mike. I know that it matters to you that you are good at the job, and God knows you are. Glad you’ re on my side instead of Sasha’s or one of the others. But then, I’ve always been one hell of a recruiter.”

As goes my life within the Trade, Jaeger was a mentor but nothing more. I’ve known him since I was about sixteen when he brought me in. He has helped me through some rough times, but he was just nurturing an investment and I accept that. I don’t confuse using someone for warmth or affection. Now, I was at the same level he was and we were going to be competitors. The old man could expect the best from me, just like always. I owed it to him and would blow his truck totals clean out of the water.

When I got back to the dock, my crews were in a huddle. They stopped when they saw me and I smiled at what looked like relief on their faces. When I walked up, they half circled me waiting for some kind of news.

I waited a moment then explained my new position. I cringed a little when Maab hugged me, but others joined in the congratulations and I couldn’t move. They seemed to be enjoying that it made me uncomfortable. Ok, we’re one big happy family, well almost. The only one who didn’t congratulate me was Chaz and he walked away towards Jackson’s without saying a word.

The next morning after the runs were completed (we made two complete trips with trucks filled with drunk Gorezone fans), De Silva gathered the crews together and made the announcement about my promotion. I knew that the majority of the crews either liked me or was glad that I wasn’t direct competition anymore. I beamed as I listened to De Silva’s speech, but waited until it ended before making my first move. I had a marked up map in hand that I had worked on earlier that day. It felt like a holiday and I was about to give my best present.

“Macy!” I shouted and her crew froze where they stood. Macy was caught half into the truck and Brion looked like he’d been caught in a Slop’s spotlight. The new ratboy knew enough to scurry away when I got near and was already in the cab. It’s a pity what happened to the last one.

The dock area was silent as I approached and I made sure to speak loudly enough for everyone in the surrounding bays to hear.

“Now that I’m a crew boss, I get to pick my trucks. Congratulations bitch, your ass belongs to me.”

The blood drained from her face and Brion looked like he was going to pass out. I saw him mumble an “Oh Shit” under his breath. Macy was mine - body, mind, and soul - and I could have her kacked in the blink of an eye. She swallowed and could tell that the shit had finally hit the proverbial fan. I couldn’t wait until I gave her the punch line.

“Starting tonight, you start your run at the Rust Curtain near Bastard block and come west under the I-80 overpass. Here’s your new route.”

I flipped the plastic wrapped map at her and she fumbled numbly to catch it.

“I recommend that you watch yourself in that area. I hear the Johannas and the Kiestas both think they own it and they don’t like us too much.”

I grinned ear to ear and watched her reaction. “Oh yeah, don’t trash my truck. Fuck you very much.”

Walking back towards my trucks, my grin was probably the biggest I’ve ever worn. Macy was a dead woman and she knew it. I was going to twist the knife hard before I ended this. Ever heard the expression “If they can’t take a joke, fuck with ‘em”? I was going to enjoy this.

I climbed into the cab of my old truck to relax and start planning, but sat on something wet. It was a lump of hard pink meat and I tossed it when I realized what it was. A human ear. One that had been ripped free.

There was a thump-thump from the windshield and I looked up. The maniac with the pig face had his nose squashed against the glass like a small kid. He blew a kiss and laughed like a maniac. When I blinked, he was gone but the ear and the blood was still on the floor proving that I hadn't hallucinated. I had shot him dead, but he was back.

For a few moments, I thought I had seen a ghost then reason came back to me. There was nothing supernatural about it, the bastard had staged the whole thing and had come prepared with props and armor. He was just fucking with me.

The other possibility was that it had been in my mind the whole time, that I had imagined it. I couldn’t accept that and would stick with the first option.

Why did he follow me and how did he know the things he did? Jim was the only one who would know about my past, but there was no way that they were the same person. Jim was never a twisted cartoon-fuckup like Pigman, just a headstrong bully. I was afraid that sooner or later, I’d have to confront him and stand my ground. I wasn’t sure that I had the courage to unmask him and face what he represented.

What if I had imagined the entire thing?

After I kicked the ear onto the dock, I realized how much the past few weeks had cost and my shoulders felt heavier. Fatigue could dampen my fear, but would never bury the questions.

Eventually, I gave in to the need for sleep.

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