Chapter 13- Riot

Visit the local watering hole from time to time.

" J eez, Riot, did you get in a fight with a robot?"

"What?" I wiped my sweaty brow with the back of my sweaty arm. Oil and grime became a second skin to me; I sighed with exhaustion. Cherry stood with her keys in her hand; she had donned a dress and had applied makeup to her face. "What are you all gussied up for?" I sneered.

"Soda and I are heading over to Scissors. They've got a band, with real instruments. You should come. Blossom is gonna be there."

I scrunched up my nose. "Hard pass. Her pussy damn near melted the condom off my cock. I ain't ever touching her again."

"You're disgusting. Well, what about Dash Donner? I know you like him." She raised her eyebrows.

I considered her offer for a moment. I did like Dash Donner. He was a lot of fun. My muscles, however, screamed for a break. I shook my head and relaxed my gait.

"I'm gonna have to pass tonight. I need a shower and sleep."

She frowned, her lower lip jutting out. "Are you sure? You've been working a lot. You deserve a break."

She wasn't wrong. Ever since that night at that damn amusement park, I'd thrown myself at my work. I spent all day at the junkyard from sundown to sunup, trying to forget what I'd seen and heard.

"I need to shower," I relented. "It's gonna be a while before I can leave."

My little sister's face lit up. "But you'll still come? If I go on without you, you'll still come?"

"Sure. I'll ride over to Scissors for a bit."

"Promise?" She walked across the room and paused in front of me. "I worry about you, Riot."

"Why?" I snickered. "That's my job. Don't worry about me, kiddo."

"Kiddo? Ha!" She shook her head. "You're funny. Don't forget that you're young too. You deserve to have fun just as much as I do."

"If I have fun like you do, we won't have a roof over our heads. Go over to the bar, I'll be there after I get all this grease off me." I left her in the front room to go take a shower. Our house was one of the few places in Heathen Heights with working plumbing. It wasn't always like this, but Dad and Granddad worked hard to get it up and running. They dug their own well and rigged the pipes to it. I was grateful each and every day that I wasn't stuck sleeping in my own filth because I didn't have a place to bathe.

Water was one hell of a resource to come by, and I didn't take it for granted. We'd had to fight with our guns and fists plenty of times to keep this place from bandits and others who saw what we had and wanted it for our own. But I'd yet to be beaten. They'd have to pry Heathen Heights from my cold dead body to take it.

Once I heard the front door close; I slid my greasy clothes off and stepped into the freezing cold water. I shivered but quickly adjusted, before reaching for the soap Cherry made.

She was right, I decided as I scrubbed my skin and hair. I was overworking myself to the point of exhaustion. I was pushing my body too far. My muscles screamed for me to give them a break.

The money has been nice though. It would allow me to have a good time tonight. My thoughts drifted to Dash, and the last time he'd come home with me.

My cock stirred, coming to life as I pictured him bent over my bed, his ass in the air, begging for me to fuck him. He was so fucking tight and hot. I reached for my length and stroked it slowly. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the memory.

"Riot, please, ruin me."

"You like that?"

"Ahh."

I bet he was waiting for me at Scissors already, a beer in his hand and a condom in his pocket with my name written on it. With how fucking randy I was feeling, I didn't think we'd make it back to my place. I might just take him in the bathroom or outside near my bike. The idea of him on his knees with his mouth around my cock, while people came and went from the bar, sent me over the edge. I came, cum shooting out against the wall. I finished showering and put on clean clothes.

Cherry was good about making sure my stuff got washed. I could do it myself, and I did whenever she wasn't here, but it was a nice perk of having her around. She kept the place and myself clean.

I slid on my jacket, pushed my feet into my boots and went out, tossing my leg over my bike. I yanked my helmet on and kicked off the dirt as my ride roared to life.

The bar was busy, but that was pretty standard. Scissors, named after its owner, was always busy. And on nights they have music on, there was barely space to park my motorcycle. I managed to find one and headed inside. The bar was full to the brim; the band playing on the second floor, and everyone down below dancing and attempting to talk over the music.

I moved through the crowd, politely nodding and smiling at people I recognized. I did a quick wave to Blossom, who I'd attempted to avoid eye contact with, but failed. I swore under my breath. I hadn't been lying to Cherry when I said I didn't want to mess around with Blossom again.

I reached the bar and flagged Scissors down to order a whiskey.

"Why, Riot Ritalin, I thought you were dead!" The old woman with the long, brown curly hair laughed. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Just working a lot. Looks like business has been good." I took the drink she offered me and nodded to the room full of patrons.

"It has been, actually. We've seen a good uptick lately. Was even able to bring in live music."

She was called away so I quickly paid for my drink and disappeared into the crowd. I hadn't seen Dash yet, but if I didn't catch him, I'd just find another man to take home. I was in the mood for cock, not pussy, tonight.

Eventually, I spotted Dash across the room and just as I was making my way to him, the room abruptly fell quiet, even the music stopped. I looked around, confused, until I saw two men in those large, black suits from before.

Like the ones at the park.

"Hello, we are looking for one of our own. He was accidentally left behind, and needs to be returned back to our bunker." One of them shouted from his gas mask.

No one spoke up. While gas masks weren't uncommon by any means, paired with the heavy suit and the large gun in his hands, the atmosphere in the room was thick with uneasiness.

"We don't have who you're looking for." Scissors stepped from behind the bar and went to the men. "Why don't you move along now. We're trying to enjoy ourselves tonight, not get tangled up in your bunker business."

"We have orders from our leader to search this town for our missing soldier," the second man replied.

"You've searched my bar. He's not here. What's his name?" Scissors demanded.

"Milton. He's a very important man. Holding him hostage is a crime punishable by death. He is our leader's grandson."

Scissors raised her arms and spun around. "We got any Miltons in here?"

The room tittered nervously, but no one claimed the name.

"There. Milton is not here. Now leave, before this gets ugly. You're not killing anyone in my bar just because you have a missing bunker brat."

They stood toe to toe with the old lady for a long moment before storming out, their boots shaking the bar's foundation. There was a moment of pure silence when they left, but then an eruption of cheers, and the music resumed as if they'd never been here at all.

People around me were chatting and laughing and speaking to me, but my mind was elsewhere. My mind was back at that theme park. One man had been shot in cold blood, the other was given a head start.

I remembered their conversation verbatim. I repeated the scene in my head daily, trying to piece everything together. I didn't know everything, but I did know one thing.

The one that ran off into the night? The one that had been proudly boasting about his plan to rape and kill a woman?That was Milton.

Somewhere, he was out there.And if people were looking for him alive, I wanted to be the one to make sure they found him dead.