One of the guards approached us. “Rally’s that way. Pussy afterward.” We walked toward the field. Didn’t need no directions, simply had to follow the orange glows coming from the Klan fires.
“Remember the salutes,” I said, checking behind me to make sure the guard was out of earshot. “Left arm out, fingers spread in the middle, right hand making a ‘K’ against your stomach. If they give the Texan Aryan Brotherhood salute, raise your index finger, ring and little finger on one hand in response. Tanner said it’ll be mainly guards who greet each other this way, but be aware just in case. And if they raise the standard right-arm Nazi salute, repeat and reply with ‘Heil Hitler,’ ‘Sieg Heil’ or ‘White Power’—it’ll be easy, just repeat what they say.”
“Shit.” Vike shook his head. “What’s with all the sign language crap? Maybe Styx should have come.”
“Christ knows,” I replied as we turned the corner.
Flame growled low in his throat at what lay before us. About forty or so men, dressed in standard shirts and jeans and, of course, there were the hooded men, a sea of cone-headed white hoods. My hands balled into fists when I saw a huge motherfucker in the center of the circle, standing right in front of a burning cross.
Meister.
I assessed the surroundings, noting the potential exits if shit went south. I led the way and joined the circle of men. Several greeted us with the standard Klan salute of a left arm raised. I had to force myself not spit in the face of every smug bastard that flicked his head my way.
But we returned the salutes and watched as Meister spoke over the crackling of the burning wood.
“A race war is coming, and we must be prepared. The white race will reign supreme once again, and we will end them all—the blacks, the Jews, the Muslims, and any other fucking inferior cunts that try to infiltrate our lands.” His blue eyes were wide with excitement as he looked at each of our faces and nodded, a smile building on his lips. “Gone are the days of street thugs and skinheads, of smashing windows and rioting through cities. We are building an army for the fight. You’ve seen the news, heard the reports—the whites are finally on the rise. And we will prevail! We are strong! We are pure! And we will rise!”
The men around us raised their hands into the air, shouts of “White Power” pouring from their lips.
We shouted back, repeating the mantra over and over again until Meister called for the rally to end. The guards ushered the throng back to the center of town. I signaled for Vike, Flame and Cowboy to hang back. I wanted to track Meister. I wanted to see where he went. If there would be any obvious sign of Phebe.
We spoke in a tight group, pretending to talk, until a guard came with his gun to guide us back to the path away from the field. I kept my attention locked on Meister as he fell into step behind us. I tried to hear what he and the guard were saying, but they were too far away. I couldn’t get near the fucker.
The blood rushed through my veins as we entered the town. The lifeless wasteland was now brimming with activity. Men who had been at the rally entered buildings, some on their own, some in small groups. Then there was the line that had formed at a large barn. Fucking chaotic.
“What the fuck is happening?” Vike asked, exasperated, as we stopped outside our dorm. On cue, a guard stepped out of a shack, dragging a bitch in his wake. And then more guards brought more bitches out of more shacks. My gut clenched. All the women were dressed in almost-transparent white dresses, and all looked like they were being put through some serious shit.
Flame rocked on his feet beside me, his knife running along his arms, tracing the long scars he already had. Only these knives weren’t dull like the ones he’d used lately. They were sharp and they were fucking ready. He ran the tips over his skin, but he didn’t break the flesh.
Yet.
Looking at the brother’s eyes, I saw a glimpse of the pre-Maddie Flame. I saw the fucked-up kid I rescued all those years ago rising from his sleep.
I searched through the sea of blondes and brunettes, looking for any flash of red. But there was fucking none.
“Jesus Christ,” Cowboy whispered, as we watched bitches being pushed into shacks with men, the doors slamming shut, sealing them inside.
“Look alive,” I said quietly as a guard came over. “You’re late, which means all the solo shacks are taken.” He eyeballed us all, then pointed to a small cabin on the west side. “Pay your dues. He’ll tell you the rest.”
We headed to the cabin, where a thin white cunt with glasses sat behind a desk. Without looking up, he said, “Two thousand each for three days. Any way you want for as long as you want—excluding Meister’s rallies, of course. They’re obligatory. Rubbers required at all times. Don’t obey the rules, face the punishment.” I reached into my pocket and slammed my cash on the table. My brothers followed suit.
“You want to book specific shacks, do it on a morning. I’m here from nine a.m.” He typed something on his computer, but never looked up at us. “Dentist shack is out of bounds this weekend. Don’t even attempt to go inside.”
He reached out and collected the wads of money. “The barn is open tonight. Line up and you’ll be taken to a whore. You want young pussy, we have ones starting at fourteen. Younger can be arranged at extra cost.” He paused. “Lines are longer for them. Tough shit.”
I felt Flame tense beside me and his arm shake in rage.
“Heil Hitler,” the man said in dismissal and gave a lackluster left-handed salute. We repeated, “Heil Hitler,” then got the fuck out.
As we walked down the road toward the barn, I scanned the area, my Special Ops sniper training springing into full effect. The sounds of fucking and screaming spilled from the shacks. The line for the barn was shorter now. I headed in that direction.
“Get inside with a bitch,” I muttered. “Stay for a while, then leave. And for Christ’s sake look like you fucked the slut.”
“I ain’t fucking no bitch!” Flame came to a dead stop, face blazing red.
Turning, I replied, “Then get the fuck back to the dorms and wait for us to come back.” His nostrils flared, and I knew the brother was seeing the slave bitches being dragged from pillar to post. He was rapidly losing his shit. I got in his face. “Get the fuck back to the dorms. Call Maddie, forget what you’ve seen and calm the fuck down. She’s safe. She ain’t here. She’s with Ash at your home.”
Lip curled, Flame spun on his heels and marched back to the dorms.
A guard was on us in seconds. “Where’s he going?”
I turned and faced the skinheaded fucker. “The man’s a fucking psycho. You want a bitch here sliced up and dead with blades in her eyes, you let him inside with one.” The guard narrowed his eyes at Flame’s retreating back. “We’re passing through Texas on orders from Beau Ayers. Earl’s a solider for the cause, just like us. But we need pussy. He doesn’t. He just needs blood and the kill. That’s his porn.”