Chapter 22- Riot

Just do it yourself.

I tore the flyer off the nail and stared at it with disgust. The bunker boys had been hanging these up all over town.

REWARD $5000 FOR THE RETURN OF SOLDIER MILTON HAPSCHATT.

I crumpled the paper, and tossed it in the trash, and looked up at Munroe, the store clerk. He snickered from behind the counter.

"Yeah, I told them they couldn't hang that shit up in here, but then they handed me a few coins. I figured they can come back tomorrow and do the same thing over. What can I do you for, Riot?"

"Just need a few things for the shop. Cherry sent me with a list." I pulled the paper out of my pocket and slapped it on the counter. He took it and squinted at it through his dusty glasses.

"Let me go in the back and see what I can do."

The doors swung open with a loud squeak behind me, and I turned to see Boone storming in, waving the same flyer over his head.

"Man, they just don't give up, do they? Their man is probably dead by now."

He joined me at the counter. We'd ridden in together; he and Bonnie had been staying at Heathen Heights in their own room. I'd been invited to join them a few times, but I've been keeping my cock to myself these days.

"If he isn't, he wishes he was." I pulled my cigarette case from my pocket and stuck a smoke between my lips. Boone flicked his lighter and lit it for me. He moved close to my face and kept eye contact, making the act more intimate than it was. He'd been the one that was the most disappointed in my lack of libido lately.

"Facts. Those bunker boys probably don't have the shot. Plus, he can only keep that mask on for so long. Eventually, he'll need to eat or drink. Turning into a creepie is worse than death."

Munroe came from the back with his arms full of ingredients for food and soaps and other shit Cherry was currently into making. She went through phases where she'd make hundreds of something and then never want to touch it again. I was glad her current fixation was soap.

"She's keeping busy over at Heathen Heights, huh?" Munroe laughed as he put everything in a crate and rang me up. "I put the usual stuff in there for you. Oil, screws and bolts."

"Thanks, Munroe."

I paid the man and followed Boone out, hooking up the crate to my bike.

"I want to know why this one is so damn important," I told Boone. "I've lived here my whole life and ain't never seen them come this far away from those bunker doors, let alone stay. Who is this Milton guy?"

"I've thought about that too. He looks young, probably our age. They say he's just a soldier, but I think that's a lie."

Boone agreed and shut up as two of the black suits walked by, carrying their guns and looking menacing. They hadn't shot anyone yet, but they'd sure pointed their weapons around enough.

"Come on, let's get going." I hopped on my motorcycle and kicked up the stand.

We took off toward home and I spent the rest of the day out in the junkyard with Boone and Soda, while Bonnie and Cherry worked inside, making soap and whatever else Cherry came up with. I'd almost forgotten what was happening in town until the sun fell, and as we were walking back to the house, we saw men in armored suits again.

"Gentleman!" One of them called to us. I flipped them off and kept walking. I was exhausted, sweaty, and filthy. I needed a shower, warm food, and my fucking bed."Halt! Or we'll use force!"

I halted and turned

"Ex-fucking-scuse me?"

They glanced at each other. "We're checking every housing area for our missing soldier. We'd like to go inside and search your home."

Boone and Soda moved behind me. My fists clenched and I stormed over to them. "I'd like you to get the fuck off my property. Your little bunker bitch is most likely rotting in the dust somewhere. There, I solved your question. Can I get that five thousand now?"

They cocked their guns but didn't point them. I laughed and reached for the pistol on my hip. I pulled it from its holster and pointed it at the one to the left.

"I'll say it one last time, boys. Get the fuck off my property. Milton ain't here. You talk a big game, but I haven't seen you use those big guns of yours once. You wanna know how many times I've used this?" I pulled the hammer back to lock it.

They dropped the guns, leaving them to swing on their straps.

"If you know anything, it would be stupid to hide it, sir," the one on the left said.

"Don't talk to me about doing stupid shit, sir ."

I kept the gun pointed at his head as they backed up and went back to their four-wheelers. They nodded to us before turning their vehicles on and heading back toward town.

I relaxed my gun and put it back in its holster. I turned back to my friends, who were shaking their heads.

"You are the bravest fucking kid out here in the wastelands I've ever met," Boone laughed. "And you've never even left this town."

"Why would I need to?" I opened the gate and went into my house. "Although, I am tempted to go find that stupid fuck's corpse."

"You think they'd actually pay you for a dead body?" Soda asked, skeptical. We went to the kitchen, where the ladies had made stew of some sort. We poured ourselves bowls and stood around the room.

"I don't care about the money so much as showing them how ridiculous they were for thinking he was still alive. You can't go that long without taking off that helmet."

"Let's do it." Boone finished his food and reached for his flask, washing down the food with whiskey. "Tonight. I bet he didn't get far from that park."

Soda and I exchanged looks. I was tired, and my muscles screamed for rest, but... it was tempting.

"Fuck it. Let's grab the body and toss it at their feet. They're staying at Desperate Pleasures, aren't they?"

I rinsed my bowl in the basin in the sink. Desperate Pleasures was the town's hotel. We'd seen them coming and going from there.

"Hell yeah!" Boone howled. He liked adventure. It was why he only popped in every once in a while. He was growing bored already.

"What if he's still alive?" Soda asked. The room fell quiet for a moment. We'd all seen the fight that night. We'd heard what they were arguing about. "If we find him and turn him in, is he going to go back to the bunker just to rape women?"

That was a good moral question. What did we want more, the money, or our souls?

"Let's worry about that if it happens," I said, reaching for the backpack I kept packed for long-distance trips. Cherry kept it filled with a med kit, water, non-perishables, bullets, and other stuff I might need to survive a few days in the wastelands. She made one for Soda too, and Boone had his pack.

We bid the girls goodbye and left the house, hopping onto our bikes and zooming off into the night, in the direction of Risky Rush Park.

The lights had been shut off the same night they'd been turned on. They realized their mistake pretty fast. We made it there within an hour, hopped off our bikes and pulled out our weapons.

Creepies, crawlies, and other animals and beasts loved dark, abandoned places. We had to be prepared to kill on a dime. We stepped through the park in a line, slowly and cautiously. It was a large place, he could be anywhere.

I started to wonder if Milton had managed to survive this long. If he had, what would he look like?

The only reason the human population was currently surviving was because of the shot. Created in some lab, the shot made you immune to the toxins in the air. Radiation didn't affect you and while life was still hard in the wastelands, the air was no longer a threat.

We passed an empty pool with a sign that said: The Gallows . Above us was a platform with trick doors.

There was movement above us. We spun and Soda shot into the darkness.

"Don't shoot!" A man's voice screamed above us. "Please, I need help!"

"No fucking way," Boone whispered as a man stepped to the edge of the platform. "He's alive."

"My name is Milton Hapschatt, I'm a DIT, from Bunker 237. Please, don't kill me. I need help."

Soda and Boone looked at me, waiting for instructions. We kept our guns on him. We had a choice. Save him, or kill him.

Milton begged again, and I took a deep breath. I knew I was going to regret this, but my curiosity was too strong.

"Bag him. We'll take him back to Heathen Heights. I have questions."