Page 54 of Lula Dean's Little Library of Banned Book
In the past, Logan hadn’t spent much time on such topics. Soon, he realized just how much he’d been missing. After a meeting at Nathan’s, he always drove off feeling like he was king of the world. For the next few days, his muddy view of life always seemed to clear. He knew who the enemies were. He knew why he, Logan Walsh, had been put on the planet. He had a reason to get his ass out of bed every morning.
All week, Logan looked forward to the meeting in Nathan’s basement. He’d been alone for so long that he hadn’t even realized he was lonely. Now that he belonged to a group, he took his duties seriously. When Nathan gave him something to read, he read it. When Nathan offered advice, he took it. And in the moments in between, he studied his mentor’s perfect life. Like the rest of the men in the group, Logan was fascinated by Nathan’s woman. All he had to do was shout upstairs, and Dawn would be down in minutes with sandwiches or beer. Even more impressive, there was never a complaint. In Logan’s experience, the pretty ones were rarely so eager to please.
“It’s like training a dog. You have to get them young,” Nathan told them. “You teach them early who’s boss and give them a clear set of rules. Keep ’em focused on what’s important. Women’s minds aren’t as powerful as ours. They’ll get distracted from their duties if you don’t keep them in line.”
Who’d have thought that bitch would end up ruining it all?
And just when everything had been going so well, too. The group had moved past discussions and started putting plans into action. Nathan had given Lula Dean a list of books that contained antiwhite propaganda. She’d made sure they were removed from the town’s libraries. No one else on the book committee had asked any questions. They were too busy making sure all the gay books were pulled. It was a major victory for the cause. Troy’s children did not need to be told that white people were evil—or that they were responsible for something that happened a hundred and fifty years before they were born.
Then Nathan’s son joined the group. At first, Logan worried Nate might come between them. Then he realized it was an opportunity. If he befriended the kid, he could be more than Nathan’s protégé. He might just feel like a member of the family. So Logan volunteered to show young Nate the ropes. He was the one who’d encouraged the boy to paint a swastika on the Jew’s front door.
Never in a million years would he have suspected Nathan’s wife knew the old man—or that she’d choose him over her husband. For years Logan had complained to the group that he couldn’t find anyone like Dawn Dugan. Logan had even started to wonder if he might be to blame. But after Dawn betrayed Nathan, it was clear the problem was with the female species. None of them could be trusted to keep their word. They were too fucking simple to understand concepts like loyalty or honor.
The day Dawn stabbed her husband in the back, Nathan came home from work and found everything all gone. The bitch had kidnapped his son and dragged his most treasured possessions out onto the lawn. After that, Nathan lost his biggest roofing contracts, even though many of his best clients were sympathetic to the cause. Lula Dean had called to say it was best if he didn’t attend Concerned Parents Committee gatherings until things died down. All this in America, where you’re supposed to be free. If that had ever been true, it sure as hell wasn’t now. Even the weekly meetings had come to an end. Logan was the only member who’d stayed by Nathan’s side.
It was hard to believe that one woman could ruin so many lives. Dawn Dugan had been on Logan’s mind when he found that bitch in the forest. Days had passed and Logan couldn’t stop thinking about Crystal Moore. A woman that age letting half the county search for her while she hid out in the woods? She should be ashamed of herself. It was disgraceful how she’d embarrassed her husband. When Logan saw that witchcraft book she was reading, he almost shot her right there on the spot. The Bible says you shouldn’t suffer a witch to live, and he’d had an unregistered handgun with him. He could have buried the cunt in the forest and no one would have known the difference. Logan promised himself he’d seize the day if he ever got another chance.
She was hardly the only person in town who deserved a bullet in thehead. When Logan was done with her, the doctor was next. That motherfucker had some balls mouthing off to him like that. Telling him to leave the office when Logan was just looking out for Mitch Sweeney. Nathan always said people didn’t know their fucking place anymore. All these assholes coming over from shitty countries, taking advantage of everything real Americans had worked so hard to build, then bitching and moaning about how they deserved so much more than they got.
Now that he thought of it, he might just go back a bit later and teach that bastard a lesson or two. Logan had woken up with a hunch something would go wrong at the rally, so he’d strapped a gun into his ankle holster. Nathan told him not to, but somebody had to protect the innocent. Those two little thugs with their bullshit banner were lucky he’d never had a clear shot. But it wasn’t too late to punish the doctor for taking care of a CRT-loving mama’s boy before he even bothered having a look at Mitch’s head wound.
After Logan got kicked out of the clinic, he’d taken a walk to burn off the rage. It didn’t work. It never did. Now he found himself alone in the darkness, looking up at the statue of Augustus Wainwright.
“That right there is what a real man looks like,” Logan’s father once told him. “He gave everything he had to protect what he loved. Soon, there won’t be any men like him left in this world.”
Logan couldn’t have been more than ten at the time, but even then it went without saying that his father was one of those men. Everyone in town would have agreed. Hollis Walsh could have led a life of leisure, but he’d chosen a life of service instead. For twenty years, he’d served as a superior court judge, overseeing the county’s most important cases and ensuring justice was served. For a time, he’d been the most powerful man in Troy. No terrorist immigrant from some backward country would havedaredask Hollis Walsh to leave a waiting room. And any sheriff who’d sided against him would have paid dearly for the mistake.
Hollis Walsh never believed for one second that Logan would grow into a real man. He’d always said his son was soft and weak, just like his mama. He’d been wrong about that, even if he’d been right about everything else.
Logan took a breath. At moments like this, he knew his father would be glad he’d died when he did. He would be horrified to see what was happening to the town he loved. It was up to Logan to fix things—to show his father he’d been mistaken about his only son. Logan bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Dear Lord,” he said. “I need you here with me now. Things are falling apart, and I have to do something. Please give me the strength, vision, and wisdom to see that thy will is done. Amen.”
When he opened his eyes again, they were staring straight at the inscription he’d read thousands of times. Logan smiled, ’cause he knew just what it meant. It was the Lord’s way of telling him the answer had been right there all along.
Bow Not Before Tyrants
Fight for Your Freedom
Sacrifice All but Honor
And Die with Dignity
He had to take action. They weren’t going to stop with Nathan. Hell, they’d run Randy Sykes out of office just ’cause some bitch claimed he’d fucked her nearly thirty years earlier. No proof, of course, no nothing. Just her word against his. The mayor! And the dust hadn’t even settled before the town’s two top Karens were battling to take his place. Now they were coming for Augustus Wainwright, for fuck’s sake. Those kids claiming to be his descendants—what a steaming pile of horseshit! So they’d given up claiming he was a monster, and now they wanted to be related? There was no point in giving those people what they wanted. In the end, they’d never be satisfied.
The truth was—and not everyone was ready to hear it—the only way to protect what mattered was to wipe all of them off the planet.
A lone pair of headlights approached the square. Logan stepped out of sight as a car pulled up outside the salon where all the ladies got their hair done. A big man dressed in camo slid out of the passenger side door. Logan recognized him at once as Jeb Sweeney.
When Logan was ten, Jeb coached his Little League team. Every night before he went to sleep, he prayed that Coach Sweeney could be his dad. The coach was fair and patient—and when you did good, he told you he was proud of you. He never yelled at Logan or lost his cool. When he was around, even the parents in the stands were on their best behavior. Then Logan’s dad got up in an umpire’s face, and Coach Sweeney took him by the collar and escorted him back to his seat. After that game, Jeb invited the team over to his farm to see all his animals. Logan wasn’t allowed to go. He worried his dad had discovered his secret plan—to hide under the hay in the barn and stay there forever. He figured if he took good enough care of the animals, Coach Sweeney might just decide to adopt him.
Long after that daydream seemed ridiculous, Logan still looked up to Jeb Sweeney. Every time he drove by the Sweeney farm, he fantasized about pulling into the drive. When one of his horses got sick, Logan saw an opportunity. He paid Jeb to make a house call, figuring he’d show off his compound and maybe find out they shared some interests in common. It may have been a little too hopeful, but it wasn’tinsane. After all, Jeb’s brother was a well-known conservative who called attention to the tribulations men faced.
Jeb arrived at his property, and Logan saw him flinch as they passed the shooting range. Then he watched Jeb’s face harden when he took in Logan’s collection of flags and memorabilia. Jeb didn’t ask any questions, and he didn’t bother to hide his disgust. He looked at Logan the same way his father had—like there had to be something wrong with him.
It made Logan feel ashamed. When his father had looked at him, Loganhad run to his mama. God rest her soul. She’d always done her best to protect him. It wasn’t easy, way things were in their home. There were weeks when she was too bruised up to leave the house, so she missed a lot of school events and games. Some kids at school thought he didn’t have a mom at all. He would make sure they knew that he had the best mom in the world. She just had to stay home to take care of him and his daddy. And that’s the way things were until Logan’s senior year of high school. Then he came home one day to find her missing. It wasn’t until late the same night that anyone bothered to let him know she was in a coma.
They said it was an accident. But Logan knew better. She’d taken every pill in the bottle. Logan didn’t want to be alone with his dad any more than he had when he was still little. Bad things could happen if he and Hollis had the house to themselves.
So the next morning, when his father went hunting, Logan went with him. And as soon as they were way out deep in the woods, he shot Hollis straight through the neck.
