Outcasts (Badlands 3)

He rolled his shoulders, tightenin his grip on my hand as if he was worried I would bolt.

“Do you remember at the old compound? There was a room full of belongings: clothes, identification cards—.”

“A wallet belonging to James Wallace? The missing Centriole Inspector?”

“Exactly like that. I know you’re aware of the men being sent outside of the wall,” he said.

I nodded slowly, already formin a hunch.

Armed men were often sent out when a power grid needed servicing, or a waterline needed a weld. Very rarely did that whole batch of workers return. How absurd was the notion that the council men would risk their own lives to ensure they had electricity and runnin water? Those gluttonous fuckers didn’t even pick their own strawberries.

Honestly, I’d never thought of the two in any relation but now that Grimm brought that specific room up, it was damn impossible not to put the pieces together.

“Keep goin,” I said, feelin a small bubble of apprehension as I waited for him to confirm my theory.

“Your father added in people who he felt opposed something he was doing, or disagreed with him on whatever he wanted to bitch about for the day, ensuring they wouldn’t be going back home.”

“And that’s where Romero comes in,” I finished, answering one of my earlier questions. “But what does he get out of it?”

“What he got was a shitload of food we, clothes, fucking bubble bath….the buyer for Luca’s skin farm.”

I took a step back to process what he was sayin. That my dad had been sendin entire families to their deaths…all to hold a fuckin position? I knew he was a power hungry hypocrite, but he was a murderer, too?

I knew the answer, had seen the facts, and it sickened me.

James Wallace had a place on the city council, he disappeared, and one of Dad’s idiot friends took his place.

James also had a six month old baby, twins, and a wife—that all mysteriously disappeared. And he wasn’t the only one.

When one family left, another took its place. But they weren’t leavin on their own free will.

“Grimm, that’s…. like fuckin genocide. No wonder the goddamn population never changed.” I pulled my hand free and began to pace, wishin that sonofabitch was in front of me right that very moment.

Pausing, I turned back towards Grimm. “What happened to those lil babies? Did you…?” I couldn’t even finish that sentence. “I know you’ve done a lot of sick shit, like the cannibal farm, and I’ve accepted that but if you’ve

been—.”

His mask slipped for a brief second and he looked a combination of pissed and disgusted before it was back in place.

He stood taller, his body tensing with his anger.

“I kill cannibalistic little fuckers beyond the point of being human ever again.

“I don’t kill cherub faced babies because your dad’s a fuckin pussy who had you and everyone behind that wall brainwashed, believing in fucking fairies and bullshit utopias.”

I crossed my arms, glad they were hidden beneath his hoodie. I had fairy tattoos, didn’t take a genius to know that was leveled at me. I opened my mouth to respond but he wasn’t done yet.

“Your dad sent them to the same place he had you and your uncle taken.”

“Me and—what? Why would he do that?”

“How would I know that Arlen? He’s your dad.”

“The same man throwing a tantrum because Romero doesn’t need him anymore, same man who paid Noah to keep you locked away and supplied birth control so he could stick his dick in you. And then your ma sent Beth out here to–.”

“Now you’re just full of shit, Ma would never—.”

“Use her own daughters to help further your dad’s agenda and then play the victim?”