The Mysterious Stranger (The Confidence Game 3)

“She can sleep with every man here once she’s done her duty. This is not about Rosie, it’s about you.”

Contrition might be an asset even if it tasted like shit. “Because I fucked up with Susan? I’ll apologize.”

Ted put his boot against the chair rungs and Zeke braced. “It’s about respect. You ask too many questions.”

“Why are we building here?” That was Mike from somewhere behind him. “Why so far from town? What’s in the caves? How often do new people arrive? Is Spencer the only one who goes outside? Where do we keep our weapons? How do we defend ourselves?”

“Where is our boneyard?” said Chuck. “That’s just morbid, man. Who even wants to know?”

Zeke dropped his eyes to his legs, made his voice low and quiet. “I ask questions because I want to learn. I want to contribute.”

“You ask questions to challenge and this isn’t a democracy.” Mike again, said with a kick to the back of the chair.

“You live here, you live by our rules, you embrace our ways,” said Ted. “You don’t go asking so many fucking questions.”

The cold metal edge of the rifle’s muzzle slid underneath his chin, pushing his head up. “You might think having a weapon is your constitutional right,” said Chuck. “There’s no second fucking amendment in here. You gave up those rights when you drove through our gates.”

Chuck’s finger was nowhere near the trigger. This was about terror, not torture. He worked to slow his heartbeat, gripping the chair arms. He’d take whatever punishment they dished out. He’d die before he left Rory alone.

“You’d only shoot your own ugly dick off anyway.” Chuck laughed, nudging the barrel of the gun upwards, making Zeke’s teeth clack as his head jerked back. Someone from behind glanced a blow across the top of his head and he bit his tongue, blood filling his mouth. He turned his head to the side and spat it out, the physical pain keeping him focused on managing the situation without exploding it.

Ted moved Chuck aside. “You bring doubt and falsehoods into our home. And we can’t abide that. It’s not your place to question our intelligence of what’s going on in the decay. Everything you know from out there is a lie fed to you to keep you ignorant to the real state of the world. There’d be mass panic if people knew the truth about how bad things were. You know this already from what Spencer taught you, but still you don’t trust.”

“If you can’t shake off the taint of the decay, there’s no place here for you,” said Mike.

Zeke’s mouth was full of blood again, stopped him replying.

“You hear, man?” Chuck’s hand moved into view holding a tin cup. “We only want what’s best for you. Water, drink.”

The hands holding him disappeared, the light was lowered from his face. He took the cup, warily. Spat, rinsed, spat again. Was this over? It was too much to hope that they were done.

“Sorry about roughing you up some,” Mike said. “We were just making a point.”

“You didn’t bite your whole damn tongue off did you?” said Ted. “That might be hard to explain to Orrin.”

Zeke spat again. “You couldn’t have made your point without scaring me half to death?”

“Now where would the fun in that be?” said Ted. He offered his hand, and when Zeke didn’t take it, he said, “You’re a good man, Zack. A good brother. You work hard. More than pull your weight. I understand why you misstepped with Susan but it’s no big deal. We want you to feel at home here. We’re your family and we want what’s best for you and for Rosie.”

Zeke ran his hand through his hair, pleased to feel no bald spots. The way this game worked was that you were supposed to be so grateful that the terror was over, so thankful that you hadn’t really been hurt badly that you forgave the terrorists. It wasn’t easy to get to his feet and take Ted’s hand, accept Mike’s high five.

“That’s it? You guys don’t want to shoot my head off and bury me in a shallow grave?”

You’d think this was stand-up and he’d just delivered a side-splitting line. There was so much robust laughter they set a coyote howling.

“Naw, we love you,” said Ted.

“We loved you before you humbled Earl. Now you’re our fucking hero,” said Mike.

Another cup was passed to him, this one held hot tea. Chuck was shak

ing the dirt out of his sleeping bag. A blanket was draped around his shoulders.

“You were piiiissed off,” said Ted, making the other men laugh again with the exaggerated way he said it. “Glad we’re all on the same crew here.”

“Arnica for that bruise you’re going to get on your hip,” Mike said, handing him a jar. “Slather that on all over and it’ll take the ache out.”

It didn’t matter how good it felt not to be so cold, how relieved he was the abuse hadn’t escalated, the violence was minimal, and he’d remained unhurt. That Rory was safe and tucked up in her single bed, dreaming of trusting herself again.