067 – Girl, You Gotta Carry That Weight

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I walked into the Redhouse, a faint echo following every step I took.

No one was home. We still laid claim to the place, but we were able to move a lot of our inventory out to the new territory, our neighborhood. There was still some stuff in storage, either stuff that was too big to move, or not important enough that it needed to be close at hand. Extra funds, spare guns, and drugs we weren’t looking to deal. Once we were more settled, the plan would be for people to take shifts, essentially squatting at the location so it could remain within our jurisdiction. More territory meant more power, and we needed all the terrority we could get. But, for now, we needed everyone at the neighborhood, to help bolster our numbers and cement our presence there. Chances were good that we’d drop the place entirely, if we expanded even further, and found someplace better.

No, not if. When.

I needed to think along those lines, that we would succeed. If there was even a hint of uncertainty, then that could plant seeds in the mind. Seeds of doubt. And any setback or obstacle or difficulty faced, however minor, would only allow for those seeds to grow, the roots digging, until a final, decisive moment came, and I would be unable to act upon it, those roots already having me tied down.

I couldn’t afford that. I couldn’t afford failure.

And I wasn’t going to ever think that I could.

I walked into the Redhouse, the echoing growing louder.

Maybe this wasn’t the best place to…

To do what?

I looked around, even though I knew it was empty. Why had I come here, exactly? If I needed some time to think, I could have done it on the way to reconvening with D and Lawrence, and I needed to go somewhere secluded, having Sarah take me there would be defeating the purpose. I was wasting time and energy, going out of my way to come here.

And yet, here I was.

I wandered, each step less certain than the last. I scratched my head, played with my hair, fixed my glasses, straightened my hoodie, zipped it down, only to zip it back up again. I was wandering.

Going in circles.

My head was spinning, feeling dizzy for reasons I couldn’t explain or properly dissect. It all mixed together into a soupy mess, I couldn’t tell where one feeling ended and the other began. And trying to isolate any one thing brought a mess of other stuff with it. A mixture.

Fuck. I wanted to punch something.

“Did you find it?”

I turned to the door, startled.

Ah.

Sarah. She had followed me inside, the door closing as she came in.

It was the most complete view I had of her. From head to toe.

Her hair was a light brown, an even lighter shade as she stepped into the light, the sun coming from above. Her skin was tanned, from having spent so much time outdoors and it simply being her natural complexion. To contrast, she had on a white sweater that hugged her body snug, leaving only one shoulder exposed. Her jeans were black, slim, but loose by her ankles, with boots to match.

If it weren’t for the gun that was strapped behind her, Sarah looked like she could be a model.

There was a maturity to her looks that I could never hope to ever match or develop. Which only made the displacement of power between us all the more noticeable. She was a few years my senior, yet she answered to me. I told her to take me here. I gave her an order, and she listened. I was the leader, and she was my subordinate.

That’s how it’s supposed to be.

“Find?” I asked.

Sarah looked confused.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

I remembered, now. I already forgot?

“Uh, no, I just got in.”

Sarah nodded, accepting that answer. She glanced around as she crossed the lobby, approaching me.

I had given a flimsy excuse when I told her to take me to the Redhouse, and I’d come up with something better by the time we got here. It didn’t happen, apparently, my thoughts were drifting elsewhere the whole trip.

Even now, I still felt…

I wasn’t sure how I felt.

Distracted? Listless?

Fuck.

I set my hoodie straight again, even though it was already fine. I was very aware of how the cloth of the jacket brushed against my stomach, the cold of the zipper touching me whenever I breathed.

Sarah spoke, breaking the spell of silence.

“At the risk of repeating myself, are you alright, Voss?”

“You are repeating yourself,” I said.

Sarah shrugged. “You didn’t answer me the first time I asked, so I had to follow up.”

My gaze went down to her boots.

“Give me a second to look around,” I said.

I moved, walking across the lobby, to the counter. I put my elbows on the surface, and leaned over, as if I was actually searching for something.

“You’re upset,” Sarah said.

A very pointed statement, that.

I didn’t turn to face her when I responded.

“I don’t think upset is the right word to use, here.”

“What is the right word, then?”

That was where I was stumped.

I set my lips into a line, staring at nothing in particular.

Fuck, I thought, for the third time in less than the same amount of minutes. I was starting to regret coming here, I wasn’t getting anything out of this. I didn’t even know what I had come here to get. Why, and for what reason? As though I was operating on some instinct that hadn’t been called on in so long, that it had forgotten how to function, and how to express and release that building… tension? Pressure? Whatever it was, exactly, it was spreading, growing, putting a strain on other stuff as it pressed against it, adding stress.

A broken connection, being forced to carry an impulse. A burden it might not be able to handle.

If I wasn’t careful, something could break.

I felt like I was about to have a migraine.

I breathed, remembering that I had to.

What is happening?

“It’s those girls, isn’t it?”

Sarah questioned, my back still to her.

Another pointed statement. Sarah seemed to have a talent for hitting right where it stung.

But, did it sting?

A minor wound, one that-

No, no. Thinking, picking apart my thoughts, alone. Going in circles. Wasn’t getting me anywhere.

I let my eyes close, and I opened my mouth.

“Not them, not entirely. I, it’s, more complicated than that.”

“You want to talk about it?”

I screwed my eyes tighter.

“That’s what I was trying to do.”

“Sorry, Voss, I didn’t mean to push you. Please, take your time.”

I took my time, trying to think of a decent place to start.

“Wendy,” I said.

“Yes?”

“It’s Wendy. Don’t call me Voss, not right now.”

There was a pause.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah.”

That was a start.

“It’s not those girls, but they… I think I’ve realized something, about myself.”

A bit of time passed. I was expecting a response from Sarah, but I didn’t get one. Was she still wanting to give me space? Time?

It forced me to continue.

“I’m lacking, as a leader,” I said, matter-of-factly. “And I’m afraid that might reflect in other places, too.”

It felt as if I wasn’t even talking to her anymore. I was just talking aloud, and she happened to overhear.

Sarah responding diminished that feeling, though.

“I don’t understand.”

I wouldn’t expect you to.

“It happened with EZ and Krown,” I said.

“EZ and Krown? The Thunders and Royals?”

I nodded, but I still wasn’t facing her. “Before all this started, us moving into the neighborhood, D and I had gone ahead to check things out. We did some minor surveillance of the leaders of both gangs, on their turf, to get a sense of who they were and how they operated.”

“And something happened?”

I nodded again. “But, they knew we were outsiders, and they got the upper hand on us. On me. They lead me on, toyed with me, and made me look like a fucking idiot. I fell right into their tricks, and I had no idea I was being played.”

“And that made you upset,” Sarah said.

“More than upset. I was livid. I took that anger, that frustration, and focused it back at them. And look where they are, now.”

“Sounds like you did a pretty good job at turning things around.”

“But, that’s not my concern.”

Another few seconds of silence.

“What is your concern, then?” Sarah asked. She probably recognized that she was stepping on the time she had let me use to think. Probably not out of any disrespect, but to help guide me along to my point.

That was what I wanted to think, at least.

“My concern is… That, by myself, I’m not good enough, or well-rounded enough, to lead a gang. Twice, now, I’ve encountered a situation I wasn’t prepared for, or I wasn’t expecting, and I couldn’t… handle it.”

“You’re counting what went down with those girls as one of those situations?”

“I am. And what makes it worse is that they’re not even targets. I have no reason to seek them out again and make them pay. Nothing would come from it, nothing tangible.”

“I won’t ever say you’re wrong in feeling what you’re feeling, but you’re not alone. You’re not even alone as a leader. You have D, you have Lawrence. You have… the rest of us.”

I shook my head.

“I can’t keep relying on others. That time with EZ and Krown, I had D. This time with those girls, I had you, of all people. Strike one and strike two. What happens the third time around, when I’m at a critical juncture, and I fail? And there’s no one to help? Everything falls on me, and I won’t have the strength to keep it all up.”

“When you talk like that, you’re already assuming that you will fail. So stop that. And second, no one is asking you to carry that kind of burden, especially all by yourself. No one, even with super strength, can handle that. You can’t expect yourself to be bigger than life, all the time. No one is, and everyone has their shortcomings. That’s why people reach out, and rely on others in the first place.”

I slapped my hands on the counter, and turned.

I was facing Sarah, now, standing straight, feet planted firm.

Say it, become it.

“I know what I am,” I said. “I am bigger than life. I am a monster. I’ve done monstrous and ugly things, and I’ll continue to do monstrous and ugly things to get what I want. I have a power that no one else has, and I need to recognize that it puts me above, well, people.”

An arrogant thing to say, but, on a fundamental level, it was true.

But, I thought.

I spoke. “I am capable of so much more, and if I can’t reach those heights I know I can reach, then what am I good for? I can’t keep relying on others. Someone, a while back, had likened me to a gun, that others can use to point and fire. They direct me to where I need to strike, and they shoot. I can do that, I can be good at that. But that can’t be everything. There’s three of us, but we can’t stick with just our individual strengths and abilities. I know where I’m lacking, and that’s something they can’t help me with. It has to be me. I have to better than… this.”

Another silence. It lingered.

I brought my hand up, brushing my fingers through my hair. I adjusted my glasses.

“Am I even making any sense?” I asked.

I saw Sarah smile. Small, sympathetic.

“Not really, but that doesn’t mean what you’re feeling isn’t real. If that’s what you feel like you need to do, then do you, girl. Nobody can stop you. I’d love to see you grow and become a real leader. And, if it means anything coming from me, I think you’re doing a pretty good job right now.”

A warmth hit me. Not exactly like the one before, from my encounters with those girls. It wasn’t uncomfortable, awkward, or otherwise distressing. It was reassurance.

Which, in and of itself, sort of made it awkward.

“I… appreciate the sentiment,” I said, looking away. “You sound like you’ve done this kind of thing before.”

“I originally had gone to university to be a therapist. But, as I’m sure you know, life has a way of making things not go the way you want. And this ended up paying more, faster.”

She shrugged, spreading her arms.

“No big,” she said, smiling lightly.

I walked back across the lobby, heading to Sarah. My footsteps seemed to echo less than before.

“I’m sorry for taking up your time,” I said. “I didn’t actually have any real business here.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Sarah said, giving me a wink. Even that had a different effect from the wink I had received earlier. “I hope you found something worthwhile, anyways.”

“Maybe,” I said.

Sarah spread her arms again, wide.

“Do you want a hug?” she asked.

I considered taking a step back.

“I’m fine,” I said.

Sarah lifted her arms an inch higher.

“You sure?”

I considered.

But, I thought again.

“I’m fine. At the risk of repeating myself, I, um, appreciate the sentiment.”

Sarah replied. “You are repeating yourself, Voss.”

We both smiled.

Sarah dropped her arms to her side, and I took that as a signal to leave. But, before I could take a step, I got a call.

I grabbed my phone out from my pocket.

“Hey,” I said.

“Where have you been?”

Lawrence. Sounding as strained as ever.

“Sorry. I… took a detour.”

“Took a detour? Where are you now?”

“I’m at the Redhouse.”

“What the fuck are- whatever, never mind. Look, we’ve got a situation.”

I looked at Sarah. She must have noticed my expression. It was serious.

Lawrence sounded serious.

“What kind of situation?” I asked.

“Granon’s making a move.”

I felt my heart pound faster, my pulse quicken.

“Already?”

“Yeah. On Boseman and Jordan. All I know right now is that there’s some traffic disturbance, and the People’s Hammer are involved.”

That was right in our neighborhood, if not right at the edge of it.

Shit.

“You want me over there?” I asked.

“No fucking shit. I’d, ow, shit, I’d come over there myself, but I’m still too fucked up to be of any use. I’m going to need your muscle on this one.”

“I can do that.”

“Then hurry. Hey-”

I was about to hang up, but I heard more from my phone.

“What?” I asked. “I missed that last part.”

“I was asking if you’ve seen D.”

If I’d seen D?

“Not since setting up at the theater,” I answered. “Why? I thought she was with you.”

“She went out, she didn’t explain why, and she’s not picking up. I thought she went over to where you were.”

Lawrence was right, this was a situation. Granon was taking action, in our territory, and D was not accounted for. She was our strategist, and she would have been useful in handling this. She would have planned something, and she would have made a game of it.

But, she wasn’t around, and we couldn’t afford to wait for her. Wherever she was, she had better show up, and soon.

Lawrence, too, was unavailable. Out of commission, still reeling from his one-sided fight with Granon. He could barely move, and I wouldn’t want him to. He had to be benched. He’d need to rest.

It was all up to me, now.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “D’s not here, but I can take care of it.”

“Good luck. Bye.”

“Bye,” I said. I turned to Sarah.

“What’s up, Voss?”

I blinked, feeling the pressure, like a weight on my chest. It was suffocating.

“This might be strike three,” I said.

—

I was running headlong into danger, knowing there was a chance that someone could get hurt, or worse, get killed.

So why did it feel like I was running away?

My feet stepped from road, to sidewalk, grass, sidewalk, and road again. I had turned corners, cut through alleys, and over gates. Past bystanders and onlookers.

I finally found a place to stop. Or, perhaps, more accurately, I let something stop me.

On the road, a car. People standing around it. Mine.

“Move!” I yelled.

They moved, out of the way, and right on time.

The side of my body collided with the car.

It absorbed most of the impact, stopping me and keeping me in place. The car skidded a foot to the side due to the hit.

Everyone shouted. Shocked, surprised at my sudden entrance.

“Holy-”

“Shit!”

“You dented my car!”

I pushed myself out and away from the car. A bone broke, but it had already mended by the time I settled everyone down.

“Guys, cool it! It’s just me!”

I had my arms up, hands high, as if physically making myself appear larger helped.

The initial confusion dissipated, and everyone’s focus was back, and on me.

I saw Reggie and Tone among the gathered group. I looked at them as I directed my questions.

“Any updates?”

It was Reggie who answered.

“Nah, it’s been like this for almost an hour, now. They’re still up there, blocking the access road.”

“Shit,” I said, barely hearing myself. Not just from all the running, but everywhere around us, every car was honking.

It was so fucking loud.

“Cops haven’t come in to move them yet?” I asked.

“You want them here? That’s asking for even more trouble. It’s not that bad, not yet.”

And I have to not let it get to that point.

Shit. Time was running out, and so were my options. I had to think, but I barely had any time for that, either.

Cover your bases, what’s going on right this second?

A lot of things.

Traffic stretched, going back several blocks. The People’s Hammer were situated right at the access road that merged into a highway. It was a major road for this part of the city, and in many respects, for a lot of people, it was their only way out of the neighborhood. People had jobs elsewhere, or they were looking to find some respite from the stresses of living here.

And Granon’s men were blocking everyone trying to get through.

To make things worse, the access road only went one way. Anyone who got stuck here was unable to turn back. A chokepoint.

The longer Granon’s men stayed in place, the longer the traffic became. It wouldn’t be long before the growing pressure bubbled, then boiled, only for everything to blow up in our faces. If we…

If I couldn’t deal with this, then we couldn’t continue as a gang at all.

Within me, the pressure started to bubble.

“Where’s Granon?” I asked. “Is he here?”

Tone turned to look, but Reggie answered.

“Haven’t seen him.”

Tone turned back. “Doesn’t rule him out of being here, though.

Reggie nodded.

“Anything else?” I asked. “Any fights that broke out, or any shots fired?”

Reggie shook his head.

“They’re just standing there, holding everything and everyone back. They’re probably strapped, though, with a few more in the trunk.”

“And you’re sure about that?”

Reggie shrugged.

“I just know that’s what I would do.”

I stepped to the side, to look past Reggie and Tone and the others, past the cars and other drivers who got out to get a look for themselves.

They were small dots from where I was standing, but I saw the black cars, and the black suits standing around them. Granon’s men. The People’s Hammer. I didn’t see Granon himself, but, if he was ever out here, I couldn’t miss him.

“At least they’re not actively doing any damage,” I said. “But they are making themselves known, here.”

“And they’re being annoying as fuck,” Tone said.

“Yeah,” I said, “That too.”

I let a few seconds pass as I stared off into the distance, looking at Granon’s men.

“You got any ideas, Voss?”

The question took me out of my thoughts. I looked between Reggie and Tone, trying to figure out who asked that.

“Thinking,” I said.

Tone spoke. “Well, think faster, Voss, this stalemate can’t last forever. Something’s gonna give, and it ain’t gonna be us.”

There were murmurs of assent around us, barely audible over all the car horns.

Not a lot of time to think, and I was being pressed to hurry.

What should I do?

Move in to attack, try to mitigate the damage done? Possible, but potentially messy, especially with all of the civilians around.

Move in to talk, get them to stand down? Less probable, but stranger things have happened. If I could appeal to them, somehow, drive home just how bad things could go if they stuck around? If I tried to be diplomatic?

The more I considered it, the more that idea seemed far fetched. They were here for a reason, and they’d only leave if they had anything worth reporting back to Granon. If they found anything useful, like a weakness in our group, or if they’d somehow managed to secure a win.

Right now, they were testing us, and it was a test we couldn’t fail.

Couldn’t engage, but words might fall on deaf ears.

Something in the middle, then?

“Spread out,” I said. “I’ll need eyes from as many different angles as possible. Let’s find an opening we can approach this from.”

I looked at everyone as they looked at each other.

“Spread out,” I said again, much firmer.

There was another slight delay before people started moving, going in different directions, going by themselves, in pairs, or smaller groups.

They listened, but they had to consider it, first. I didn’t have the command over them like Lawrence did. Not with everyone.

“Want us to come, Voss?” Reggie asked. He was still here, but he looked ready to move at any second.

“No,” I said. “No offense, but you won’t be able to keep up. Besides, I’ve got Sarah.”

Tone gave me a look of confusion.

“Yeah, wait, where is she, anyways?”

“She’s around,” I said, moving a foot forward. “Get going, and keep your phones at hand!”

I broke into a sprint, leaving them behind, heading to the blockade of Granon’s cars and men.

Dammit. I hated that I had to be on my own on this.

I didn’t have the capacity for scheming like D, and I didn’t have authority that Lawrence held, and I couldn’t do my usual thing, to boot. Brute force wasn’t the key, here, and I was forced into a position at playing the parts my colleagues usually handled.

Dammit.

Had to play it by ear, I figured I was pretty decent at doing that. I’d put the pieces on the board, get a layout of where the enemy was, and go from there.

It’s what D would do, but it would be my version of that approach.

Running down the street, between people and over cars, I got closer. I was moving fast. Fast enough to draw attention, but not fast enough to draw suspicion.

A crowd had formed near the blockade itself. Dense, packed with people, and I wouldn’t be able to get through unless I used a conspicuous amount of strength.

I found a nearby car, and climbed on top to get a better look.

Three black cars, six of Granon’s men. At least. There might be more on the other side of the cars’ tinted windows. Better to be paranoid and prepare for the worst, than to assume everything was okay and be blindsided.

Ten would be my conservative guess.

The cars were parked in a line, grill to bumper, blocking the opening into the highway. Granon’s men were also in a line, standing, making it very obvious that they were not to be messed with or approached. They were strapped, armed with rifles.

The guns weren’t aimed or directed at anyone in particular, but they were there. By their side, ready at a moment’s notice. Couldn’t let it get to that point.

Some of them noticed me, but they didn’t recognize me. I was standing out, literally.

I attracted the attention of some others, too.

“Hey! Get off my car, you asshole!”

Someone, from the gathered crowd that surrounded the cars and men, had turned and saw me. He left the crowd, me being where I was had become more pressing than the armed mobsters keeping him and dozens of people in place.

“I said get the hell off my car!”

I gave the man a cursory glance, and then it was back to the blockade.

Tools. I had my bag, my stuff inside. Knife, earpiece… costume.

Couldn’t use that. Bringing V into this would be like throwing gasoline where there was only cinders. A guarantee for disaster.

Had to do this as Wendy. Which was starting to feel like an impossible task. I ran all the way here, and I still hadn’t come up with anything.

I felt the roots dig.

I wish D was here. Lawrence. Sarah. Fuck, I’ll even take Reggie or Tone. Someone to-

“Hey, you!”

I looked down. It was that guy, walking faster to me.

“Are you stupid? Get off-”

It was enough for him to shut up.

I had made a face, twisting my expression. Teeth showing, eyes widening. A scowl, nearing a snarl. I stared hard, focusing my gaze into a single point on his neck. I wasn’t even looking at him as a person. Or perhaps, I was looking at him as a person, but something had changed from my end. My perspective.

The man stopped in his tracks.

“Fucking wait,” I told him, expression unchanging.

He waited. Standing there, staring back, mouth slightly agape. Perplexed, stunned. Unsure of what to do, or what he could do, next.

An odd exchange, but I’d take it.

He was disoriented for the moment, and I used that to get back to the task at hand.

Concentrate.

I couldn’t tackle this directly. I had to go about it in an oblique way.

From behind, then.

It was something.

I hopped down, feet on the ground, phone in my hand.

I walked to the crowd, about to walk through it.

I passed the man, his eyes still on me, still locked into whatever compelled him to stare.

Someone else was at his side, now. Someone new.

A woman, mid-thirties, she looked like. She had a yellow sweater, with a black cap on her head. Thick rimmed glasses. In her hands were a pad of paper and a phone, the phone was pointed and directed in a way that made me apprehensive.

“Oli, who’s that?” she asked, as I put them behind me.

The man barely got out a word as an answer.

“Nat, I…”

His breathy tone was drowned out by the continued shouting and horn honking. It seemed to get louder, more intense, more pissed off. As if it was a gauge on how much patience the people here had, and how much time we had left.

And we were running out on both.

I put my phone out in front of me as I started moving through the crowd. I was small, short, and I was able to find the small gaps between the people here, however small.

I started typing as fast as I could, getting out as many messages as possible.

Please let this work.

The phone went back into my pocket as I made it past the crowd. I was met with some protest, but a harder nudge from my direction made them give. Easier than I expected.

And then I was facing the blockade. Granon’s men.

They noticed me again, all of them facing me. Did they recall me from before, when I was standing on the car?

I continued forward.

I walked at an angle, so I was heading to the car on the far left rather than going to them directly. They positioned themselves to keep me in their sights. I saw their hands lower, to their weapons.

I raised my hands, stopping by one of them. He was dressed like his boss. All black, long coat, a wide brim hat. The spitting image of a mobster.

“Hi,” I said, putting my hands to my side.

“And you are?” he asked.

“Just a concerned citizen. I don’t mean to be rude, but you and your friends are in the way. The people here are trying to get through.”

“That is precisely why we are here. To be a thorn in this community’s side.”

At least he admitted that he was being an asshole.

“Well, congratulations, you guys are pricks. You think you can pack it up now?”

He glowered at me. His shoulders were straight, his hand physically on his gun. He must have made some other signal or gesture, because the other men started coming our way.

“We are here under explicit orders, little girl,” the man said, assuming a more assertive tone. “You do not get a say in what happens, here.”

“Yeah, and those orders are from Granon, right?”

The mere mention of his name gave them each a bodily reaction. A twitch, a shudder, a gesture in some way.

I had gotten right to it.

They closed in even more, now, all of them with their hands on their guns. Their rifles.

I’d considered it, perhaps getting them to run off with just a look, alone. From the looks they had, though, and the weapons they held, I had a distinct, gut feeling that it wouldn’t work.

Had to hit them from another direction.

The man who had been entertaining me spoke again. “You are lucky we did not shoot you as you came here. It would be easy.”

“Yeah, and thanks for not doing that,” I said. “Appreciate it.”

He grimaced.

“Are you playing us, girl?” he questioned.

Trying to.

Someone else from the group spoke, addressing the man I had been talking to. It was a language I’d never understand.

They conversed, briefly.

They all faced me again.

The man spoke again.

“Leave,” he said, that one word carrying with it an accent that gave his demand even more weight. “I do not know who you are, but I will give you one chance to go, with no harm done to you as you turn your back. You have my word.”

“Wow, a gangster with honor, never thought I’d see the day. But, here’s the thing, I can’t leave, I sort of help run the place. And with you being here, doing what you’re doing, it’s not helping me take care of the neighborhood. So, yeah, I’m going to have to be the one that asks you to leave. All of you. Go back to Granon and tell him you’re no longer welcome or tolerated here.”

“And,” I added, “If I ever see any of you again, I’ll make it so you never see again.”

That got a reaction out of them.

They didn’t bellow or scream like their boss, but they fell back on his tendency to belittle and downplay.

“We are going to stay, just to show you what little power you really have,” the man said, speaking for his group. “And then, we are going to take over, just to make sure you know.”

“Big words for adults who don’t know how to park their cars,” I said.

The man glared.

“That was your last chance for mercy, child. I can surmise that you work for Lawrence, who I believe is still nursing wounds from our boss. Continue to run your mouth and waste our time, and I can see to it that you meet a similar fate.”

The group muttered amongst each other.

While they were briefly preoccupied, I glanced at the road behind the blockade of cars. I gulped.

“No need to get so pissy,” I said. “I’m going. And you will, too. Call it similar fates.”

“What are you-”

It happened in a sequence. First, the crowd, crying out as they saw it coming. Confused, Granon’s men tried to look at the crowd.

Then came the crash.

Thousands of pounds, sixty miles at least. A big block of metal on wheels.

A van barrelled through the blockade.

I’d put some thought in it. Where I stood, where Granon’s men was positioned. Where the van would be coming in from.

We were standing close to the bumper of the car on the very left, the grill of the car in the middle. There was a small gap, there, that the van forced itself through.

Everything and everyone jumped at the impact.

I did, hopping a step back to gauge the changing situation by the millisecond. Some of Granon’s men did, too, trying to get out of the way. Some didn’t make it.

The van slammed into them, and they flew, tossed a distance into the road or the dispersing crowd. The man I had been talking to was one of them.

The cars, too, skidded out from the impact of the van, providing more of an opening. An opening I could make wider.

The car closest to me continued to drift my way, and I hopped to get over the trunk to the other side of the vehicle. I leaned back until I fell, my shoulder blades pressing against the back tire, my feet pressed hard into the ground.

I pushed.

The car moved even more, until it was facing the direction it was supposed to, the grilling facing the highway. I pushed some more, until it settled into position.

I ran across the road, stepping over one of Granon’s men, crossing the gap to get to the other car. The one that had previously been in the middle of the blockade. I put my hands on the side of the vehicle, by a front tire, and pushed.

It moved, until it was situated properly on the road. It was facing the wrong direction, the road was only one way, but I was fine with that. It would do.

The gap widened. Enough so that people could get through.

And they did.

Cars immediately started going through the gap, taking advantage of the sudden opening. Not civilians, though.

Mine.

I caught a glimpse through the window of one of the first cars to pass.

Reggie. Not his car.

It was one of the orders I sent by text. An opening would be made, and with so many people out of their cars to go and yell at the People’s Hammer, they wouldn’t be prepared for any sudden and violent developments.

Get into any car near that opening, and get the ball rolling.

They wouldn’t steal it, that wasn’t their orders. Just to show the other people here that it was safe to go, to drive and go about the rest of their day.

I saw Tone pass by in a muscle car, close enough that my hair whipped past my eyes and into my glasses. Like Reggie, he’d have to stop and park the car on the side of the road, before the highway. The real owners of the vehicles could pick it up then.

I watched as others that weren’t in my gang start to get the idea. They got into their cars, and went through, before Granon’s men could get back up and try something again.

If they even could. About half of them weren’t getting up.

I edged along the side of the car I had just pushed, trying to avoid getting clipped by an oncoming truck. I made it out, and ran without missing a beat.

I went to the van that caused all this to happen in the first place. It was on the curb, a foot away from colliding with a light pole. It had stopped just before bigger disaster could take place. The van seemed to be intact, all things considered. There was some cracks the edges around the windshield, but that wouldn’t stop a van from running.

I opened a door on the side.

“Sarah! You okay?”

I heard a moan.

“Okay barely covers it.”

I saw her sitting in the driver’s seat, bent in a weird way, slouching over to one side. She responded and sounded okay, but I still feared the worst.

“Can you move?”

She moved an arm, to her side, where I couldn’t see. She moved her arm again.

She was holding a bear.

“We still have a bunch of these in here,” Sarah said, sitting straight. “They make for a great cushion.”

Yes, I thought, and I let myself breathe.

It was another order, another text I sent. The traffic was so bad that Sarah couldn’t take me all the way to the blockade itself, she dropped me off and I ran there. But I had her go around, find another way we could tackle this. It was just, at that time, she didn’t know that she would actually be tackling this directly.

I gave her that order, and she listened. She was willing to go that far.

“Thank you,” I said, getting in the van, sliding the door closed. I was in the row behind the driver’s seat. “I hate to ask, but can you drive a little more?”

“I think so,” Sarah said, but she groaned out the words. “I can try.”

“Okay, we just need to turn the van around and get out of here. We swing by to pick up Reggie and Tone, they’re just up ahead. We pick them up, and I can have them take the wheel from you.”

“I can manage that much, hold on.”

The van started to back up, getting on the road again. There was a bit of a wait, until someone let us get through the opening we made.

Two of Granon’s men were finally getting on their feet, scrambling to collect their colleagues and drag them away from the rush of vehicles. Their rifles were dangling, loose, at their backs. They wouldn’t, couldn’t use them now, or the situation would escalate too far for them to make an escape. They were the ones blocked from doing anything, now.

I can’t believe that actually worked.

It was messy, ugly, and all improvised, but I managed to cobble together a plan that diffused the situation. No one got seriously hurt, except for those who probably deserved it.

I zipped my hoodie down about halfway, feeling the heat from expending all that effort and strength.

The van drove up the access road, slowing and drifting to the side. I slid open the door.

We didn’t stop, but we had slowed down enough for Reggie and Tone to hop inside. The door was back to being closed as Reggie and Sarah shuffled around, switching places, as Tone helped Sarah settle into the passenger’s seat. The van meandered forward a bit as the switch was made, but Reggie got full control by the time we had to merge into the highway.

And then we were free. The blockade was opened, Granon’s men were humiliated, probably mutilated, and there were still some of my people staying behind to make sure the situation would remain all clear. And we would wrap around to double check.

I really did it.

“Ow, oh, ow,” Sarah muttered, as Tone aided her in getting the seat belt around her body. “Careful.”

“I am,” Tone replied. He wasn’t looking at me, but I could feel his words hitting me as he said, “Fuckin’ nuts, you’re fuckin’ nuts.”

I couldn’t look at Sarah properly. I felt bad for using her like that, like a pawn, especially after she had helped me to try and get my thoughts together back at the Redhouse. I’d have to find a way to make it up to her.

But, before I could think of how I’d go about that, I had to make a phone call.

I got my phone out and dialed. An immediate answer.

“Yes?”

“Lawrence,” I said. “Hey. It’s covered. Granon’s not going to be happy about it, but we were able to get him back before the day even ended.”

“That’s not terrible news. Thanks, Wendy.”

“Speaking of terrible news, have you heard from D?”

I noted the pause.

“I haven’t. I was hoping you’d have something new to say about that.”

I started tapping my foot.

“I don’t. Fuck.”

“Dammit, where the fuck is she?”

“Aw, sounds like you miss her,” I said.

“Not a fucking chance in hell. It’s bad enough when she’s right next to me, but a D that I don’t have eyes on? That’s potentially a whole mess of shit I try not to think about. It keeps me up at night.”

“You have to learn how to chill,” I said. This wasn’t the first time we had spoke on something like this. “Being on guard is one thing, but letting fear make you irrational? That’s what we’re trying to do to our enemies, not to each other.”

“You say that like it’s as easy as flipping a switch.”

“I told you she’s trying, Lawrence, you need to have some faith in her, if you want this to work.”

“Sure, that’s all well and good, but can you tell me you’re not the least bit worried about her not being around right now, that there might be something else going on in the background that we’re not aware of? She’s gone, and she’s not answering, who knows what she’s up to?”

I could hear it in his voice, even though he was on a phone. D had clearly done a number on him, in the past, and he was still finding it hard to shake off that fear.

But, I could sympathize, even if it was just a little.

The mere mention of a possibility like that made my heart skip a beat. There were few things I hated more than not being in control. To have some other plot run along concurrently with ours, with the potential to interfere and disrupt, made me want to question everything and everyone. It made me scared.

Better to be paranoid, and prepare for the worst.

But trust went a long way, as well.

The van rolled along, down the highway, and I heard a rumble grow louder from behind.

I said my thoughts aloud.

“We know D, we work with her, and she’s only been gone for a few hours. If she’s off doing something, it’s probably for our benefit.”

“It had better be,” Lawrence said, “Because, as much as I hate to admit it, we need her. We need everyone. Granon isn’t going to take what just happened lightly. He’ll want to strike back, but we need to strike again before he gets that chance. And that next strike had better knock him the fuck out.”

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