33. Riley
RILEY
I’m shivering, but it’s more a sense of absence than the cold that’s woken me. I’m alone in the hammock, and the room is empty. Aron has left—without a word, without telling me when he’d be back or what I should do in the meantime.
I use the bathroom, then spend a few minutes battling the stubborn burner before I manage to make myself a cup of coffee.
The main metal door creaks when I push it open, and I peek down. The courtyard is mostly empty, but a few men are sitting in the sun with their backs to the cave wall, enjoying breakfast. My stomach rumbles, but I don’t know any of them, and I don’t fancy going down there alone.
I close the door and spend the next few hours poking around.
When it becomes clear there’s no food in the kitchenette, bar an ancient-looking jar of honey in one of the cupboards, I search the place for anything to entertain myself with, with even less success.
There are no books, no music, no laptop, nothing. Clearly, Aron only sleeps in here.
Hours pass by. I lie in bed staring at the natural rock ceiling, too hungry to fall back asleep. And all the while, my annoyance keeps flaring, only for me to suppress it over and over.
I can’t believe he just left me here without any food or anything to do!
Maybe he had to leave urgently, or thought he’d be back before you woke up.
What if something happened to him, and that’s why he hasn’t returned?
No, he just doesn’t care about your comfort or your needs—for him, you’re nothing more than the only source of fun in this place.
Would I even deserve for him to care about me after what I’ve done?
That’s not the real question here.
What is the real question then?
Why do you want him to care about you more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your whole damn life?
ARON
It’s only morning, but the day is already hot as hell, even in the shelter of the trees.
As soon as we park by the Three Graces Crossroads, I exchange the helmet for my skull mask and peel the leather jacket off.
The heat is a bit more bearable in the black tank I’m wearing underneath, but I’m still drenched in sweat before we reach the reservoir on foot.
There are three of us: me, Alex, and Corrado, who’s completely useless to us. I brought him with us because, for reasons I’m not going to dwell on, I didn’t want him to stay behind and talk to Riley without me around.
We cut through the chain-link fence, the trees thin out, and the reservoir comes into view—a grey concrete structure, ancient and melancholy. I wordlessly indicate to the other two to stop, remaining just barely concealed.
With my finger on the trigger of my automatic rifle, I scan the area with my eyes. When I finally spot the guard on the opposite side of the water tank underneath a sprawling oak tree, a low chuckle slips past my lips.
“Got the guard?” Alex asks in a whisper.
I nod without turning my head around and point. They both gasp.
“You stay. I go,” I voice noiselessly and then creep away, crouched, eyes fixed on the ground to avoid stepping on any pine cones or branches, my pulse thudding in my ears.
As I get closer, sucking and gagging noises reach my ears, and I slow down, more cautious than ever, until I can finally see them a few yards away from me.
The guard is a tall, strong woman, her blonde hair pinned up in an elegant knot, protruding from underneath her army cap. She is on her knees, her mouth around the cock of the rodent-eyed colonel I tried to strike a deal with, her hands squeezing his butt.
The colonel’s lips are parted, eyes closed, a nerve twitching at his temple. Looks like he’s almost there.
I creep even closer, hiding behind a trunk, watching.
I’m not going to kill a guy when he’s two seconds away from spilling into a woman’s mouth.
Some people have questioned if I have a heart at all, and that’s fair, all things considered.
But what I do have for sure is balls, and this is a line they dictate I shouldn’t cross.
The colonel groans, the sound choked. He’s pistoning his hips, his hand wrapped around the back of the guard’s neck. I stalk forward, brandishing my knife.
The blade sings as I drag it across the guard’s throat whilst the colonel’s dick is still lodged deep inside it. Blood spurts, spilling over the screaming colonel’s front. The guard drops to the side, revealing the bite marks she left on her lover’s cock.
“My bad.” I draw my handgun and point it in between those rodent eyes. “I didn’t think that through. But don’t worry, you’ll have worse pain to worry about soon.”
“Krasnik!”
“We meet again.” He can’t see my smile behind the mask, but I make damn sure he can hear it.
“Wait! Wait!” He raises his arms, and I laugh.
“Fucking funny how you all think that me killing you immediately is a bad option for you,” I point out, adjusting the mask that keeps sticking to my sweaty face.
“I don’t think that,” he assures me, deflating. “You killing me fast would be the best thing to happen to me in years.”
Alright, you fucker, you’ve got my curiosity now.
“What, you think we’re all here because we believe in the glorious Dunnby Continuum?” he scoffs. “If you kill me, my kids’ education will be paid for, my poor wife will be set for life, and I won’t have to be here anymore. How is that not a win?”
I don’t say a thing. A bird chirps somewhere above our heads.
“Don’t waste your time with me. I’ll tell you anything.”
And we’re back to boring. Almost all of them say that.
“There’s not a thing I want to know from you.” I trace the trigger with my finger, the safety already off.
“Not even about your pretty little whore?”
I pause, and whatever hesitation flashes in my eyes, he latches onto it. “You can’t torture something out of me if you don’t know the right questions to ask.”
He’s wrong about that. Torture people just right for long enough, and they’ll start volunteering any information they have, even things they weren’t aware they knew.
But it’s hard work that requires a lot of careful planning, a lot of enthusiasm.
A drive I don’t currently have, not when tempted with the prospect of getting what I want without any work whatsoever.
“Go on,” I prompt him.
A few weeks ago, I would have encouraged him to tell me everything, only to then make a live tableau out of him regardless. But now I just want to know whatever the fuck he’s talking about.
“There’s a price on Riley’s head. One million. As well as a full pardon for whoever needs it.” Everything inside me freezes at his words. “Volker announced the bounty when he heard she helped you escape. Privately, only select circles know.”
Which means he’s after private revenge. He took her helping me personally.
Everyone will be after her. Raiders, mustards, everyone.
Fuck, I wouldn’t even put it past some of the Retrogrades to exchange her for a life of safety and luxury.
The more I think about it, the harder it is to breathe.
At the thought of Volker getting his filthy fucking hands on her, my veins flood with acid.
He doesn’t get to have her again. I will not let her be punished for helping me escape. I will die fighting before I let anyone else have her pain. She is mine, and mine alone to hurt, in ways I see fit and no others.
I’ve become a man torn apart by two opposing forces. My belief that she deserves to pay for what she’s done, my need to break her the way she broke us—the way she broke me—so jarringly at odds with the urge to protect her from everyone else.
“How did Volker find out?”
The rodent closes his eyes and takes a deep breath that does nothing to stop him from turning a nasty shade of green.
“I told him. I noticed her there and put two and two together when we found you gone. Cameras confirmed it.” His voice stays strong and steady regardless of his colour, and my reluctant admiration for him rises.
“End it now. You’ve got bigger things to worry about than teaching me a lesson I’ve already learnt a long time ago. ”
He’s got a point there. In a split-second decision, I pull the trigger before the sound of his voice dies down. He crumples to the ground.
Alex and Corrado help me drag the corpses to the reservoir, kicking dirt over the trails of blood.
We put our protective gear on and stand between the trees.
Alex pulls out his transmitter and mumbles something into it before brandishing a Geiger counter, flicking the switch.
All manufacturers have adjusted their “normal” thresholds after Rift Day, but still, the device starts clicking faintly, the sound punctuated by rhythmic silence, like an ominous heartbeat.
Once the rumble of an approaching truck fills the air, the clicking gets more frequent.
“Do we need to have this thing on?” Corrado jerks his head towards the device, stepping from foot to foot.
“Yes,” I bark at him, unable to tear my thoughts away from the bounty on Riley’s head.
I need to get back to her right the fuck now.
Too much time passes before the truck finally comes into view on the opposite bank. It disturbs dust on the road as it approaches the reservoir in reverse, its cargo bed overflowing with dirt, scree and debris.
The clicking gets faster.
“Fucking hell.” The vicious smile in my voice is unmistakable.
The back of the truck bed pops open.
“Should we even be here right now?” Corrado demands, fidgeting with his suit.
“No one should be here at any time.”
In agonisingly slow motion and with a screech of metal against metal, the cargo box rises on hydraulic rams, tipping its contents into the reservoir, disturbing the calm water surface.
The clicking stays steady and satisfyingly sinister.
Once it’s done, the cabin door on our side opens, and a man in bright yellow protective clothing and a gas mask nods curtly in our direction. I nod back, just once, and the truck is already rolling away before he even slams the door shut.
Corrado keeps muttering until I snap and point out to him that I can kill him a lot faster and uglier than a bit of radiation unless he shuts the fuck up. On a better day, I might have explained that these levels aren’t high enough to bypass the protection of our suits in so little time.
But this isn’t a good fucking day. I’m overheating, restlessness crawling underneath my skin. I need to get the fuck out of here.
On the way back to our bikes, they both have to jog to keep up with me. Neither has any breath left to say a word, and soon we’re finally speeding away, miles disappearing beneath our wheels in a blur. But today, even the roar of the motor isn’t enough to drown out my thoughts.