South Village (Ash McKenna) by Rob Hart Page A

with me, because I’ll be able to tell if you’re not. You feel me?”
    “You want honesty?” I ask. “Here’s some honesty. I don’t give a fuck about any of these goofballs. I’m here for another two weeks, then I’m off to Europe. I have nothing here. No friends, no ties. Most of these people don’t even like me and I’m not losing sleep over it. That place can burn the moment I fucking leave. As long as it’s not a moment before, I couldn’t be bothered. So, tell me, am I being honest about that?”
    I feel a little guilty saying it. My feelings about South Village aside, I am loyal to Tibo, and don’t want him or his dream to suffer. But we’re all better off if this guy doesn’t think he can use it as a way to threaten me.
    He stares at me long and hard. After a few moments he gets up, pushes the chair in, picks up the paper, and walks out. The door closes behind him. I sit there for a little while, listening, waiting for him to come back.
    Soldiers of Gaia.
    What the fuck is that?
    I don’t know how long passes. Fifteen minutes, maybe? That’s as long as it takes for me to get bold. I poke my head into the hallway and see Tibo looking out of one doorway, Marx out of another. Marx has a big black eye blooming on his face, which leaves me very conflicted, because I don’t know who to root for in that fight.
    We all share a quick look of confusion and I run to the door where they led us in, to find the van peeling out of the parking lot.
    I turn and Tibo is standing beside me.
    “That was unexpected,” he says.
     
    W e assemble in the parking lot, where we all verify that me and Marx were the only people who were physically assaulted. Which tracks, because we’re the two mostly likely to say something dumb. Everyone got quizzed about the Soldiers of Gaia. Nobody knows why. Or at least, pretends to not know why. No one brings up the book cipher, but Marx keeps glancing at me. There’s something about that.
    A few people had the wherewithal to demand a name or a badge number, but none of the agents would give anything up. All we know is what the big motherfucker told Tibo: To call him Tim. No last name.
    So, Tim is an asshole. The next time I see him I’m probably going to take a swing at him. He may be a mountain of muscle, but stuff like that has never stopped me before. At very least I’ll make him hurt a little before he pummels me into dust.
    Marx and Job are whispering to each other, both of them agitated. Magda is weeping and Cannabelle wraps her arms around the older woman, holds her tight. Katashi looks terribly confused and Aesop pats him on the shoulder, nods, tries to comfort him.
    Tibo is the only one with a working cell phone, but it’s not getting any reception, so he walks off to look for some. He doesn’t invite me but I follow after. I have no sense of how far we are from South Village, or how we’re even going to get back.
    Once we’re out of earshot I ask him, “Any idea what the fuck is happening?”
    He turns, surprised to see me. “I’m not sure yet.”
    “Have you heard of the Soldiers of Gaia?”
    “I told Tim I didn’t.” He looks at his cell and frowns. “That’s not exactly true. You found that Earth Liberation Front manual in Crusty Pete’s tree house. You do know what they are, correct?”
    “Eco-terrorists. They burn down Humvee dealerships and construction sites, stuff like that.”
    “I’ve only heard rumors. But supposedly the Soldiers of Gaia is an offshoot. They think burning stuff down isn’t extreme enough. They want to take things to the ‘next level’, whatever the hell that means.”
    “Do you think any of that is going on at South Village?”
    Tibo pauses. “If anyone was involved I’d think it was Marx. It seems to be up his alley. But even that feels like a little much. I can’t know everything, but I’d like to think I’d notice some kind of radical terrorist organization was taking root.”
    We turn onto a long stretch of road,