Free Secret of the Legion by Marshall S. Thomas

the place?" I could barely make out the sign, through the yellow smog:
    SWEETFLESH FARM
Wholesale and Retail Breeder of Pure Flesh Stock
SWEETFLESH INDUSTRIES RG.
Live or Cooked Flesh Stock
Smoked Sweetflesh
Skinned Flesh Stock and Sweetflesh Fillets
    "This was its first and only employment on record," Whit replied. "It didn't stay here long. Where it went from here we don't know." She took a whiff from her oxygen mask, then stuffed it back inside her jacket. "Let's do it."
    We pushed in past a large, loose door, leaking water all over a dirty tile floor. It was colder inside than out. An oversized goon with a bad haircut, a bloody apron and massive bare arms looked up at us from a counter stacked high with packages.
    "Help ya?" he asked hoarsely, pushing aside a comic book.
    "Can we see the manager?" I asked.
    "What's it about?"
    "We're trying to find a fellow who used to work here. Is the manager in?"
    "This ain't no lost and found. If you don't want to buy sweetflesh, take a walk."
    "The manager will like us," I said, sliding a hundred-C credmark over the counter into the thug's pudgy fingers. "We promise."
    "Like I said, we'll see if he's in." The goon made the credmark disappear and picked up an intercom. There was another sign up on the wall behind him:
    FRESH AND FROZEN SWEETFLESH
Whole Fresh Stock
Fillets, Veal, Steaks, Brain
Live Flesh Stock and General Sweetflesh Products
Frozen, Fresh, Dried, Smoked and Cooked Sweetflesh
    "…want to see you and they're giving away money," the gorilla was saying. "Yeah? Right." He hung up the intercom. "End of the hall," he gestured with his thumb, opening up his comic book again.
    "What's sweetflesh?" I whispered to Whit as we walked down a cold wet tiled hall lined with doors.
    "Take a look," she said, pausing by a door, her fingers digging into my arm. Through a frosty glass panel we could barely make out several rows of faintly blue human corpses, hanging upside down from meat hooks. I jumped back from the door as if stung.
    "Scut!" My head was spinning.
    "It's a tough world down here. Cannibalism is accepted. It's big business. Forget it—nothing we can do. Come on." She pulled me down the hall. But there was another door. I only got a quick glimpse of it—a file of chubby, naked young girls, pale skin and mindless eyes, still alive, shuffling forward, escorted by a fat male butcher with a shockrod, guiding them to an unknown fate. Then Whit pulled me away.
    "Let's see that manager," she said. "Keep cool."
    We pushed open the door at the end of the hall. A rail-thin young man in a thick sweater was sitting behind a large desk in a cluttered office. The walls were decorated with colored posters of his products.
    "We're the manager—Clinton Quair. Can we help it?"
    "Thanks for seeing us," Whit cut in before I could respond. "Our name's Tani Weemas. We're new in town, and trying to locate a former employee of its firm—Kenkan Megwa. If it can…" but the mention of the name was enough. The manager's eyes had widened, and a sudden alarm was clearly evident. One hand crept towards the edge of the desk.
    "Don't!" I warned him, jamming a hand into my jacket pocket. He froze, and carefully raised both hands, palms out. They were trembling.
    "We don't want trouble," he said shakily. "We weren't here when it happened. We never contacted the police. We had nothing to do with it—nothing!" He was quite obviously terrified. I exchanged glances with Whit, and spoke.
    "Tell us what you know," I said in a menacing tone.
    "We only know what the survivors told us—only that! We're just a businessman—we were not involved!" He was sweating.
    "Let's hear it," I demanded.
    "He didn't work here long—less than a month. He wasn't a model employee, that's all I know! The police took his personnel records—we don't have anything left."
    "Why wasn't he a model employee?" Whit asked.
    "He shot the former manager in the head, and executed most of the day gang. Six of them. Then he let the stock