Chapter 4

Marcus sat on a stone boulder, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He had the smug look of a man who thought he had everything figured out.

"He's just waiting for us to beg," Marcus sneered. "That way, he can justify jacking up the price and squeezing us for every dime. That's exactly how these capitalists operate. Some guys get a taste of money and suddenly think their crap doesn't stink.

"Our ancestors hiked that mountain for generations, and they survived just fine! He's the only one throwing a tantrum. He puts up some crappy elevator and expects us to treat him like a hero?"

"That's right!" someone in the crowd chimed in. "We got by just fine before he showed up!"

Just then, a chaotic chorus of crying and shouting echoed from the mountain trail.

Everyone turned toward the noise. Martha was hobbling down the path, flanked and supported by two middle-aged women.

A massive patch of skin had been scraped clean off her shin, and blood was pooling down her ankle. The knees of her pants were completely shredded. She was an absolute wreck.

"Oh dear, when did that trail get so full of loose rocks?" Martha cried, wincing in agony. "It never used to be this bad!"

Her complaint was almost laughable. The mountain trail had always been that treacherous.

It was just that nobody had set foot on it in five years. Weeds had completely covered the trail, and nobody had been around to clear away the gravel.

The nasty spill she took was simply the same hazard people had faced out there for decades.

Walter tried to preserve his dignity, opening his mouth and stammering, "W-Well, that's just because you weren't watching where you were going. You can't blame the trail because you don't know how to walk!"

But seeing the bloody mess of Martha's leg made the color drain from the faces of the dismayed residents.

At that moment, I pushed my cart through the iron gate. The sharp click of the lock snapping shut immediately drew the crowd's attention.

Several people scrambled over, shoving past one another to get to the fence.

"Mitchell, please, just open the gate!" Frank pleaded, his tone laced with regret and raw panic.

"Look, if you think the 50-cent charge was too low, we'll pay more! How about five dollars? Ten dollars! We'll give you ten dollars a ride! We can't hike that trail, Mitchell. We'd be literally risking our necks out there!"

"Yeah, Mitchell. Let's talk about the money! You can't just leave us stranded!"

I watched them pull a complete 180 through the fence and inwardly laughed at how pathetic they looked.

"This isn't about money."

I brushed the dust off my hands, keeping my voice flat. "Mr. Grady made it clear yesterday. This is an unpermitted structure. There are no safety guarantees. If any of you end up getting hurt on my watch, I'm not taking the fall.

"Besides, I already signed the city council's citation. If I open these doors for you, and someone decides to stab me in the back by reporting me for operating an illegal business again, I'm the one stuck paying a massive fine I can't afford."

Just then, the crowd was violently shoved aside.

Walter's daughter-in-law burst through the mob, clutching a swaddled infant to her chest as she threw herself against the fence.

Her eyes were bloodshot, and the baby in her arms was crying weakly, looking incredibly sick.

"Mitchell, please, I'm begging you!" she sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she pointed at Walter. "My father-in-law is just a senile old fool! He lost his mind and did something completely despicable!

"Please, my baby is burning up with a fever. Just forgive us this once! If you open the gate so we can get him to the hospital, I swear we'll go straight to the city council and drop the complaint!"

Walter stood nearby, his expression darkening after being publicly humiliated by his own daughter-in-law.

Yet, looking at his sick grandson, he was utterly at a loss for words.

I stared at the crying infant, but my expression didn't soften. I simply shook my head.

"Drop the complaint? Do you think this is a game? Once an unauthorized build is cited and signed for, there's no such thing as 'dropping' it. It's already written in black and white."

I pointed back up toward the town.

"Besides, the baby has a fever, but it's not like the town doesn't have a local clinic. Sure, the doctor out here isn't as good as the ones at a hospital, but he can handle a basic fever or a cold just fine. He just charges a bit more. You don't have to risk your life hiking down the trail either."