Page 55 of Vice

“We’re here for a reason,” I remind.

“That,” Wyan says pointedly, “and no alcohol is sold here on Sundays.”

“But a doctor will probably dish out opioids for damn near free, won’t they?”

“A little hypocritical considering the business you’re in,” I state.

“The business you’re in too,” Viper reminds. “And at least I make no bones about what I’m doing and don’t have any noble reasons like supposedly helping people with their pain and illnesses. People want it, I provide it. If I didn’t do it, someone else would. Might as well garner as much power and money that I can from it if I have the skill to do it.”

“If that helps you sleep at night,” Wyan says. He turns to me. “And what about you? What helps you sleep at night?”

Leon and Lady. That’s what. Knowing that there was no way to turn back from this once their dad made the choices he did, so I’m going to have to make the best of them. But that’s not an answer I can give Wyan. He doesn’t know about the twins yet.

“Same thing as him, I guess,” I say with a shrug.

Everyone at the table knows it’s a lie.

“So,” Viper begins before Wyan can call me out on it, “who knows what?”

“The townspeople? Shockingly little.” Wyan leans back casually in his chair. “As far as they know some big corporation has bought the facility and use it for manufacturing. Prison labor or something. Maybe. These people don’t care much about what happens beyond this town and are distrusting of outside authorities.”

“Someone’s in on it. You don’t just ship children to some kind of converted abandoned mine and no one is in on it,” I say.

“You do if you’ve managed to buy out state representatives and authorities to ignore grievances and look in the other direction,” Wyan replies.

Pray’s grip and influence continues to run as deep as his pockets. In other words, never ending. I take it back. Viper’s right. I don’t feel bad about being a fucking drug dealer and distributor. At least I own up to it and don’t pretend it’s for anything other than my own benefit and ambitions.

Viper suddenly looks toward the kitchen. We’re the only ones in the diner at this time, so when he calls out to the server, she turns to him as he says, “We’ll take it all to go, if you don’t mind. Me and my wife want to do some exploring.”

“Not much exploring to be done but sure thing.” Then she adds, “If you’re looking for something to do, the town usually takes Sunday evening for a community movie night at the church. Five dollar admission to raise money for some good cause or another.”

I look at Viper. He shrugs. Good as any place to start to see if we can get any clues to what we might be getting into. Someone who can take us right in through the front door and masks as a townsperson. Probably someone who moved here recently. In the last few years or so maybe.

As promised, a bunch of people are gathered at the old church for movie night. A bunch of people that may very well be the entire population of the town given how small it is. Wyan, Viper, and I sit in the back as the movie plays. Some old comedy movie that none of us pay much attention to as we categorize and watch the people. No one is immediately dismissed. I know better than to think anything like age, sex, or even disability disqualifies anyone from being a field soldier or agent in this business. In fact, that’s what we count on. That most people will dismiss the people who appear to be the most improbable targets. And it’s the most improbable people that I’m looking for.

I keep an eye on the teenagers and the old first and foremost. They’re the first people Viper and I “introduce” ourselves to once the movie is over and people are lingering afterwards. As we do that, we also keep an eye out for people who look like they don’t want to be seen or that seem to be able to escape notice.

After all these years, I can usually tell with a fine degree of accuracy if someone is lying and hiding a secret. But no one stands out to me or sets my hair on end. I don’t catch any contradictions or lies or carefully woven stories designed to make someone let their guard down. Everyone seems relatively… normal.

“You guys got anything?” I ask when Wyan is driving us to where he’s temporarily set himself up.

“Nothing,” Viper replies. “Looks like we’re going in blind.”

“We just got here. Let’s give it one more day. It’s someone’s job to oversee that place. Or, at the very least to make sure people don’t go near it. If we don’t find anything tomorrow, well go blind.

The next day starts much like the first. We have breakfast at the diner. Then lunch. Then dinner.

“This is the third time I’ve seen you all day,” says the woman that served us yesterday. Madelyn. She’s pretty much the person who runs the place.

“Well, it’s the only place in town to get readymade food. Otherwise we’d have to cook, and trust, if you don’t want your entire town burned to the ground, best to keep us away from a stove,” Viper says giving the patented, Adrian Blake, playboy smile.

It almost never fails to make a woman laugh or giggle or something. Instead, Madelyn rolls her eyes and says to me, “Hope you’ve got yourself a leash for him. This one’s a flirt.”

“Oh, I’ve got him on a short one,” I assure.

She scoffs. “You’d be surprised how many handsome and they know it guys from out of town pass through here with wives or girlfriends who think the same thing as you.”

I tilt my head at her and asks, “And you would know because…”

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