Bull (Will Slater #5) by Matt Rogers

Author:Matt Rogers [Rogers, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-16T11:00:00+00:00

42

There was a sweeping ground floor covered in loose straw, and an array of bullpens arranged in semi-circular fashion around it. Slater pictured the ground as an arena of sorts, and the spectacle was completed by a raised viewing platform that ran around three sides of the barn, all made entirely of wood, propped up by supports. Like a giant U running around the interior perimeter.

He twirled in a full circle, admiring the setup. To his left and right, identical staircases led up to the viewing platform, where potential buyers could look down on the scene as one bull at a time was released from their smaller enclosures. From there, the beasts could parade around like they were on some kind of prehistoric catwalk, and selections could be made based on which livestock had the most potential.

Slater couldn’t see the bulls themselves. The beasts were tucked away behind chipped and battered sliding doors made of steel. As if giant chunks of metal had been smashed into something resembling a flat surface and wedged into place with the help of rolling tracks underneath. But he could see the outlines of their heaving backs, and the tips of their horns, and the general ruckus caused by their massive weight shifting around their isolated pens.

He sensed opportunity in the air.

It was eerily similar to the awkward initial hour of a party, where no-one had showed up yet, but expectations were strong.

He chose the right-hand staircase and ascended quickly. The workers sweeping the barn floor with brooms paid him no attention whatsoever, and he figured the vendor had made it explicitly clear not to antagonise the buyers. To the man who owned the place, this was his life’s work. He wasn’t about to let a couple of minimum-wage workers ruin the whole thing by offending a potential customer.

Slater scoffed at that thought — truthfully he knew out here there was no such thing as minimum wage. The sweepers would be lucky to be paid with a hearty meal.

Work was scarce, and business was ruthless, and men were cruel.

Those who were cunning enough to take advantage of people would thrive.

That was the way the world would carry on forever.

Unless Slater got involved.

He set himself up at the end of the U, facing out over the parallel sides, and the rest of the barn. From there he had a sweeping view of the whole interior, and prime position for the fabled auction. He put his pack on the floor, resting it against the solid wooden stomach-high balustrade. Then he rested his elbows on the railing and waited.

He considered himself particularly adept at waiting.

Time ticked by, and slowly but surely new arrivals bled into the barn. Slater didn’t bother turning away from any of them. He knew it was all but guaranteed Simba would show up close to last. Auctions were as much about confidence as anything else. And Simba’s years of encouraging oppression would have taught him reams about maintaining control over those around him. He would also show up with a guard of honour, but they wouldn’t present it as such.

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