There was some noise from inside and then slowly the front door creaked open. Markus stepped out, holding a shotgun on his shoulder.
He looked about the same as I remembered, except his beard had grown a bit grayer around the edges. Markus was tall and broad and a little fat, and he wore worn-out jeans with a fraying flannel shirt. His beard was unkempt, just like his long hair, which was pulled back loosely in a ponytail.
“Travis?” he hollered back. “That you, boy?”
“It’s me, all right,” I said. “Mind putting down that fucking shotgun?”
He laughed and tossed it aside. “Ain’t even loaded. Come here, boy.”
I smiled and walked up the porch and give him a big, warm hug.
I’d always liked Markus, and it felt good to be around him again. Memories of my days as a boy in the local hills came rushing back, and I felt like just another green idiot again. I remembered the night Markus taught me how to capture raccoons, how to skin them, how to cook them, and how to eat them. He taught me how to shoot and how to fish. He was like a father, and a friend, and a close uncle.
“How long’s it been, boy?” he asked.
“Over five years,” I said as he let me go.
“Damn. Look at you now. Not so scrawny anymore.”
“You look about the same. Fat as ever.”
He laughed loudly. “Fat! I’m just storing up my strength.”
I grinned. “That’s what you always say.”
He narrowed his eyes and looked past me. “Who’s this pretty little thing you got with you?”
I looked over at her. “That’s Hartley.”
“Damn, boy. She your woman?”
“No, sir,” she said quickly. “We’re just friends.”
I smirked at her. “That’s right. Great friends.”
“Well shit, all right.” Markus leaned in toward me. “Better hit that soon, son. She’s ripe.”
I elbowed him. “Knock it off. You gonna bring us inside?”
“Yeah, okay. Follow me.”
I motioned for Hartley to come on, and we followed Markus into his little cabin.
The place was messier than I remembered, though not by much. Jars were scattered all over, and it smelled like moonshine, which wasn’t surprising. Markus made his living distilling liquor and selling it to the locals on the cheap. He cleared off the kitchen table and we sat down. He put three glasses down on the table and poured three drinks from a clear glass jar he had on the counter.
“To fucking Knoxville,” he said.
“To the Rock clan.”
We clinked glasses and I watched Hartley take her drink.
She nearly spit the damn thing out and ended up coughing. Markus laughed his booming, bear-like laugh, and I shot my moonshine back.
“Damn stuff still tastes like shit,” I said, laughing. Hartley was slowly getting herself under control.
“People don’t want it to taste any better,” Markus said.
“Oh my god,” Hartley finally managed. “What was that?”
I laughed at her. “Markus here makes some of the most disgusting moonshine in the state.”
“It tasted like motor oil.”
“You could degrease an engine with it, if you were wondering,” Markus said proudly. He poured three more drinks.
“I don’t think I can,” Hartley said, staring at her liquor with fear in her eyes.
I smirked and shot mine back. Markus laughed and did the same.
“Come on now, Hartley,” I said. “You gonna insult the man?”
“That’s right. I’m feeling very insulted.” Markus gave me a wink.
Hartley eyed us both and made a face. “You two are some asshole con men, aren’t you?”
Markus burst out laughing and I grinned at her. “Just trying to make you feel at home,” I said.
“No, thanks. I’d rather feel like an outcast than drink more of that.”
Markus shook his head, grinning. “That’s okay, little lady. This stuff isn’t for most folks. It’s a little too hard for you soft southerners.”
She made another face at him. “Soft southerners?”
“You know, fancy folk, with lots of money and a nice genteel charm.”
“Okay, you know what?” Hartley picked up the glass, took a deep breath, and then slammed the drink back.
She managed to swallow the stuff. Markus and I burst out laughing as she placed the glass down on the table, looking a little pained and woozy. I had to admit though, I was truly impressed. Markus’s moonshine was absolutely disgusting, and it took a strong person to take one shot of it and then come back for another.
“I take it back,” Markus said once we were finished laughing. “This girl has some serious balls, Travis.”
“Damn right she does,” I said, grinning at her.
“I don’t just have balls,” she said. “I have the biggest damn balls in this room.”
That set Markus off again, and I just smirked at her, crossing my arms. There was something fucking strong about her that was so damn attractive to me. I was having a hard time keeping myself under control. I wanted to drag her out back and fuck her rough up against a tree, make her scream my name. I knew she could take it, and I knew she’d love it.
“Okay, Markus,” I said finally as he calmed down. “Let’s get to business.”
“Business? You got fucking business?”
“Something like that.”
“What do you need?”
“Well, information for start. What happened to this place since I left?”
“Hmmm,” Markus rumbled, pouring us all more drinks. Hartley eyed hers but said nothing. “Long story, that is.”
“Give us the short version.”
“Short version is, the economy went to shit and now everyone is fucking poor.”
“What about the Dixie Mafia?”
Markus scoffed. “Those fuckers? Pieces of shit moved in and took serious control about three years back. They started selling meth, and that shit just exploded as soon as the bottom dropped out the housing market.”
“Makes sense.”
“People like them, they take advantage of people’s desperation. It’s sick, you know. And this meth shit is killing folks all over the place. Crime is at an all-time high, and that’s saying something for Knoxville.”
“Damn,” I said, glancing at Hartley. “What’s the local PD doing about all this?”
“The sheriff don’t give a fuck. They’re all bought by the Dixie assholes,” Markus said. “Lots of honest folks are getting bought out of their homes as the developers start swooping in. You see the construction on the way into town?”
“Yeah. I noticed that.”
“That’s all from Dixie money. They’re evicting locals and building these big-ass cardboard fucking houses for rich folks to get a taste of the country life.”
“Seems like that might be good for the town?”
Markus spit right onto the floor. “Fuck that shit, Travis. Knoxville don’t need no rich ass strangers coming into our town and changing everything for us. Besides, it’s just making the Dixie assholes richer, and that’s not good for anyone.”
I nodded slowly. “Is anyone standing up to them?”
He shrugged, drinking his moonshine. “Sure. Some folks are. I’m sure as hell not cooperating with them. But their biggest problem is the Caldwell family.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Caldwell? I know that name.”
“Yeah, you would.” He frowned. “Ray was seeing that one Caldwell girl. Jane Caldwell.”
I blinked as that memory clicked into place. Jane Caldwell and my brother were like the king and queen of the fucking school back then. She was pretty, thin, and popular, the kind of girl every guy wanted a piece of. My brother locked her down early and they were never apart all through school.
She was in the car the night my brother died. Ray wasn’t wearing a seat belt and was thrown through the window. Fortunately for Jane, she had her belt on and managed to walk away from the accident with cuts and bruises.
I didn’t see her after the accident. I was angry with her for a long time. I never much liked her anyway, since I didn’t go for those stuck-up girls, and so it was easy to pretend like she’d died right alongside my brother.
“What are the Caldwells doing?” I asked.
“You remember all their land up in them hills?”
“Sure do.”
“They’ve been running drugs over the border between here and Sellerton. Apparently they got some big backers up around there. Them and the Dixie assholes have been in a little war ever since the Caldwells started muscling in on their turf.”
I shook my head, surprised. “I thought they just did ATV tours up through those hills.”
“They did and do, but they also sell drugs and guns now, too.”
“Why?”
Markus just shrugged. “Hell if I know. Happened about a year before the Dixie assholes really started making moves. They’ve been in competition ever since.”
I sighed and drank back the moonshine, letting the warm burn enter my stomach. Knoxville sounded the same, but it was totally different, too. The Mafia had more sway in town than I had realized, but the Caldwells fighting against them was a surprise. I didn’t expect any locals to try to push back against them, but apparently I was wrong.