Chapter 7 - Royal Woods, September 2027

"Lincoln"

"Just a second, Mick." Lincoln fastend a bolt before rolling from under the car on his creeper. "Whats up?"

Mick, the owner of 'Micks Magnificent Repairs', a tall, skinny man with hollow cheeks who, like all of his employees, was wearing blue protective clothes was looming over Lincoln with a sad face. "I have to talk with you."

"Okay.", Lincoln replied slightly worried, getting up. He pushed the creeper under the car and started wiping the oil stains from his hands with a rag while following Mick to his office at the entrance of the assembly shop. He isn't going to fire me? Is he?, Lincoln thought. I am one of his best mechanics.

The assembly shop was very noisy. With six employees there was always something going on. Arti for instance was welding something on an old Hyundai letting sparks fly all over the place.

"Lana, you can also come.", Mick shouted over to his right.

Lincolns little sister walked over after putting away an oilcan and joined Mick and Lincoln. "What is up?", she asked. She was wearing a worn-out red MAGA cap like always.

"We'll talk about it in my office."

Lincoln had been at first very vocal against Lana dropping out of high school with only 14. But he had had to finally admit that her working was really more helpful for the family, besides what did schools today teach kids anyway? Everything she needed she already knew and self-taught anyways.

Lincoln closed the office door behind him, closing out the loud noises from the workshop. Mick gestured to the three free seats in front of his desk before taking seat behind the table. Lincoln and Lana obliged not before shooting each other nervous looks.

"I am cutting your salarys."

"What?", Lana asked perplexed.

Lincoln stayed silent.

"I am sorry guys! I have to! I am cutting everybody's salary!"

"How much?", Lincoln asked calmly.

"50 Dollars."

"Oh come on!", Lana exclaimed.

"I know, I know! The others were already so kind to kick my ass. But you guys know how tight money is. Either I fire someone or everybody gets a lower salary!"

"That 100 Dollars less for us!", Lana said angrily, throwing back her short, blonde ponytail.

"Listen, It's September, Lincoln you could make the money back Saturdays, cutting Christmas trees at Karls tree nursery."

Lincoln groaned.

"Listen,", Mick continued. "If the situation gets better, if winter this year brings snow and the winter tyres have to get put on, maybe I can give you all a raise."

"You better!", Lana remarked.

"I promise.", Mick said.

"I am going to check on Luna.", Lincoln said. Lana and him were walking out of 'Mick Magnificent Repairs' together with Arthur.

"We have 19 a.m.", Lana retorted. Looking up to her big brother. "Isn't it a bit late?"

"I haven't heard from her in a while and she isn't going on her phone."

"Maybe she is having a gig?", Arti threw in.

"Where? By the Mexicans? I don't think so.", Lincoln replied.

"True."

"Okay," Lincoln said. "Arti, take care of yourself." He gave his friend a handshake.

"You too."

"Lana." Lincoln reached for her cap and pulled it playfully down into her face.

"Hey!"

"I am home in an hour, max."

"Yeah, whatever. Stop treating me like a kid."

"But you are a kid!", Arti said laughingly. Lana gave him an annoyed glare.

"Greet Luna from me." Lana said.

"I will."


Luna lived with her boyfriend, and girlfriend, in a trailer that stood in an unused plot of overgrown land at the far edge of Royal Woods. Lincoln had already told them a million times to move in somewhere, but that stupid pothead boyfriend of Luna was one stubborn motherfucker. How he'd wish to break his teeth in some day. And their disgusting three-way relationship with that Punk Sam, Lincoln couldn't stand it. But who are you to talk?, a little voice in his mind reminded him.

There it stood in all its miserable glory. A white, run-down trailer covered in punk and rock accessories and faded posters. Grass was growing knee-high around the accommodation except the big clearing hat functioned as a fireplace in front of the door with a burned out barrel in the middle and cigaret-remains littering the compressed dirt floor. It stank.

Lincoln walked up to the trailer and knocked aggressively on the door. He really didn't like this place and he really didn't like Luna living in a place like this. Lincoln waited a good time. The only thing he heard from the inside was 20th century english rock music.

Just as Lincoln wanted to knock again, the door got swung open and a a shabby guy with unwashed blonde hair and a disgusting goatee opened up. He was wearing jeans and a dirty white T-shirt. As soon as Lunas boyfriend made out Lincoln staring at him with angry disapproval, she flashed him a nervous yellow toothed smile.

"Where is Luna, Jay?", Lincoln asked.

"Oh, hey! Linky! I mean Lincoln. How is it going, what are yo doing. You know… how is the family?" Jay pretended like he didn't even hear the question.

"Thats why I am here. How is Luna?"

"Good! Äh- hem. Well, I don't know she isn't here!", Jay replied nervously.

"Really?", Lincoln asked not believing a single word. "Then, where is she? I tried calling her but I can't reach her."

"She is, at- with…"

She's a Killer Queen, - Gunpowder, gelatine, - Dynamite with a laser beam, Freddie Mercury was singing over the stereo.

"Cut the crap, tell me where Luna is. Now."

"Wow, chill! I already told you she is…"

"And I told you to cut the crap!", Lincoln said. "LUNA!? YOU IN THERE?"

"Hey, bro she isn't in here! Hey!"

Lincoln had stepped towards the door and Jay tried to block him from entering.

"Hey, what?",Lincoln asked sarcastically. "You wanna stop me, bro?"

Jay was looking scared.

"Stop it, get out of my way." Luna said. Jay moved away from the door into the inside of the trailer letting Luna step into the doorframe. "Hey, bro." She said, she sounded tried and worn out.

Lincoln couldn't say a word, after a moment of silence he power walked towards her trying to get around her. "Hey, Lincoln! Lincoln!"

"I didn't do it! I did not!", Jay screeched from behind Luna.

Luna was holding Lincoln back and moved him away from the door to the fireplace clearing. "I am gonna mess you up you fucking piece of shit!", Lincoln screamed at Jay, showing him his fist. "I a gonna fucking kill you."

"Lincoln he didn't do it!"

When my fist clenches, crack it open - before I use it and loose my cool, Roger Daltrey was singing.

"It wasn't me!"

"Was it Sam or what? Who was it you fucking coward?"

"LINCOLN!", Luna screamed at her younger brother. Holding him back with both hands she looked him in the eyes. "It wasn't Jay." Her left eye was a sickening shade of purple, red and yellow. The black eye looked fresh.

"Then who did this?" Lincoln asked, still with raging madness in his voice.

"It wasn't me!", Jay called. Lincoln shot him a hateful glare.

"Lincoln, bro, listen. This has nothing to do with you. These are my personal problems and-"

"Who was it?", Lincoln asked insistently.

Luna took a deep breath. Her short dark brown hair looked unkempt and that annoying nose piercing that Lincoln hated on her was snot covered.

"It was Franciscos gang, Okay?"

Lincolns heartbeat slowed down to a trickle. "What do you have to do with the Beaners?", he asked calmly holding his sister by her elbows.

Luna squirmed for a bit before finally answering: "Drugs! Okay? They control almost every dealer on the streets! I am broke and have a debt! But don't worry, bro! I can pay it back! I can."

"Fucking shit! Fucking shit I can't believe it!", Lincoln shouted. "Jay this is your fucking fault! You fucking cuck, standing around while they beat your girlfriend? Run! Run, before I get you."

"Hey! Hey! I couldn't do nothing man! Believe me!"

"Lincoln! Lincoln! It was my fault! Do I look like a fucking kid to you? I can take responsibility myself!"

"Okay, so what? Take responsibility then. I know you guys are constantly broke. Thats what got you in this in the first place!"

"A few gigs, maybe I can -"

"What, and be the debt slave of that spic Fransisco? Thats not gonna happen! How much is it? The debt?"

Luna looked away. "Five hundred."

Lincoln hugged his sister, carefully not getting close to her left eye. He huffed angrily. What had she been thinking?, Lincoln asked himself. Jay and Sam are bad fucking company and only bring trouble.

Wise man say, only fools rush in - Elvis Presley was singing over Lunas stereo system.

Who the fuck put that on? Lincoln suddenly became stiff like a week-old corpse. But cards on its head mean the opposite. Things will get much worse. Quickly Lincoln got out of the hug.

"I will make a deal with them.", Lincoln said to his sister in a mechanic sounding voice. Trying to ignore the song playing in the background. "With Francisco."

"No, I am going to pay-"

"I didn't say I'd pay him. I said I'll make a deal with him."

"What kind of deal?"

"I - can't tell you right now. Take care." Lincoln had already moved to the other side of the fireplace clearing. "And turn your phone on! I couldn't reach you. Lana says hi!"

Lincoln was running, not physically. He was running from a monster that nobody could ever outrun: it followed you, always one step behind. That monster was Lincolns memories. Memories that would never leave him.


TipFit was a betting office run by Mexican bookmakers, but much shadier dealings were going on in the back of the store on Main Street. Lincoln hated that place and the people in it, and knew that the feelings were mutual. He didn't know if he could keep it together. For Lunas sake, he didn't want to worsen the situation or escalate this into a gang war; the gang war last year with the blacks was worse enough.

Lincoln opened the glass door into the dimmed office hearing people talking loud in Spanish. The conversation immediately stopped as soon as the three Mexicans at the counter noticed Lincoln standing in the door. Lincoln took a few strides into the store.

"What do you wan't, Gringo?", one of the younger Mexicans asked trying to make a intimidating pose.

Before Lincoln could answer some called "Lincoln Loud. You old faggot." in a slow singsong.

Lincolns mood worsened even more if that was even possible as soon as he heard that voice, and his eyebrows inched a good amount downwards as soon as he saw the corresponding face. "Fernandez.", Lincoln simply said.

"You know this guy?", the young Mexican gang member asked Fernandez, who just walked past him, completely ignoring the question.

The slimy bald man behind the counter told the new recruit instead: "Weren't you at last months cage fight?"

"No, no lo hice."

"¡Aye, Pequeño bebé!"

Lincoln and Fernandez stared each other in the eye.

"Long time no see.", Fernandez said with a revolting smile on his face.

"I planned to keep it that way.", Lincoln replied.

"Lets go in the back, we can talk things over in peace, cause, I don't think you are here for a bet."

"I am not." Lincoln could barely control the anger in his voice. Hopefully nobody had seen him walk into this place.

The backroom was a smoking den with its own little minibar in the corner and bar stools standing around a high Mahagoni table. A few other mean looking Mexicans were sitting around putting away their phones as soon as Lincoln followed by Fernandez entered the room.

Fernandez closed the door. "Take a seat Lincoln.", Fernandez offered.

Lincoln took place opposite of Fernandez big brother, a burly guy wearing a black muscle shirt. Lincoln was clenching his jaw.

"Francisco - Lincoln. Lincoln - Franc-", Fernandez said, taking place next to his brother.

"I know, who he is.", Francisco interrupted his little brother. "And I also know why you are here."

"Oh, yeah, tell me why I am here." Anger swing in Lincolns voice.

"Because of your sister. Her dept."

"Oh, boy!" Fernandez said.

"I am not going to pay you guys." Lincoln said.

Fernandez laughed under his breath. "And I didn't expect you to."

"Everybody knows that your ass is broke.", Fernandez chimed in.

"You are going to do something much better. You are going to lose. Next month. Fourth round, against our man. The dept gets paid and you get a hundred bucks", Francisco said leaning forward.

"Lincoln, you poor faggot!" Fernandez interrupted again. "Losing fourth round! Who will ever suspect such a weak performance from you? Ha!"

Lincoln was getting fed up with Fernandez. Turning to him he said: "You sure talk a lot about faggots. Do we have to be worried?"

Fernandez face went serious from one second to the other. He quickly leaned forward, a furious look on his face. "Say that again asshole.", he dared Lincoln.

Lincoln wasn't impressed. "You sure talk a whole lot about faggots."

Fernandez leaned back, the cynical smile he always had on his face returned. "Hermano, I don't trust him.", Fernandez said to his older brother who was just looking at him questioning. "I don't think he will go down in the fourth round." A very mean flash went through his eyes. "Lincoln why don't you swear. Swear to us… on the grave of your dead mother."

Maybe Lincoln would really loose his cool.