by Sam Ryder
I rummaged through the guy’s pants, pulling out about a dollar-fifty in coins. Not a bad haul. I slipped two quarters into my pocket, then gathered up the nickels, dimes, and pennies into my palm. I tossed them on the counter in front of Harrison.
“Should cover the disposal,” I told him, thumbing my shoulder at the corpse. “Plus damages.”
“And your tab too, I’m assuming?” he muttered back, already resigned to the inevitable.
I grinned. “And my tab.”
He nodded and shrugged, both of us knowing the money would have covered everything twice over with room to spare. But whenever I could throw him a little extra, I did.
Satisfied that my standing in my favorite hole was secure, I turned my attention over to the women. Blondie was watching my every move with narrow eyes, while the Ender had gathered her hat and covered the evidence, her horns, of her true nature.
Even though I dreaded it, my manners prevented me from ignoring the issue. These women had been looking for me.
“Y’all okay?” I asked as I leaned on the counter of the bar with one arm while pushing up the edge of my hat with the other.
The two of them exhaled. Blondie seemed more relaxed than the Ender, who refused to meet my eyes. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I didn’t.” It wasn’t exactly true. Though technically I could’ve gone on nursing my drink and avoiding confrontation, there had always been something inside me that refused to walk away from a fight, especially when it involved bullies.
“We know how to handle ourselves,” she reiterated, tossing her mane of hair behind her. She was sexy as hell.
“I’m sure you do,” I said. “But your friend looks as timid as a mouse.”
“She’s…you’re not scared of her?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t exactly accustomed to seeing Enders walking about in broad daylight, but other than the horns she looked pretty damn human. If anything, it was the male Enders I needed to worry about. “Should I be?”
Finally, the Ender woman looked up, her eyes meeting mine. Something flashed in their gray expanse, an orange glitter, there and then gone. “Yes,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow. “Okay. I’m tremble in my boots the next time we cross paths.” I changed the subject. “You were looking for me?”
“You’re Cutter?” the blonde asked.
I gave her a gunslinger’s grin. “The one and only. Which makes you?”
“Hannah,” she replied, then reached back to pull her reluctant companion forward. “And this is Gehn.”
Gehn, I repeated to myself, my eyes lifting to the top hat the woman had retrieved and replaced, hiding her horns again. Definitely an Ender name.
“Well, you were looking for me. Now you found me. So tell me what you want.” I turned to Harrison and signaled for my usual. “A pair like you wandering into a place like this...it doesn’t happen every day—or ever.”
I gestured with my free hand. They knew what I meant.
Hannah—if that was really her name—glanced at the filthy surroundings, her eyes lingering on the Barneses, who hadn’t so much as looked up from their cards for the duration of the ordeal.
“Yes, we’ve been looking for you,” she said, not giving me any new information yet. “We spoke with a few of the Wanderers, and they told us you would be here.”
“I heard,” I said impatiently as I tossed back a swig of scotch. It burned my throat on the way down. Harrison stocked none of the good stuff. But it did the job. I stood there in silence with my eyebrows raised, waiting for them to continue.
“I had a dream about you,” Gehn whispered.
“Yeah? Was it any good?” I said, playing off my surprise. I’d heard many stories about Enders. They were…unusual. It wasn’t exactly comforting to know that I’d had a cameo in one of their dreams, especially considering I’d never even met her until today.
“The Ends needs a leader, someone to unite the factions and restore peace.”
I snorted. “Must have been a nice dream,” I said. “But I ain’t no leader. I’m just a guy trying to have a drink.” Still, despite my words, what she’d said unsettled me. Coming from anyone else, I wouldn’t have thought much of her dream. But coming from an Ender…
For the last ten years, violence had riddled the Ends. There was no such thing as “peace” between the Rising and the Enders. The Rising had survived the initial blast. A subset of the population, for whatever reason, didn’t drop dead. I was lucky enough to be a part of that, even if most days I wondered if I wished the blast had burned me up with the rest.
Today was one of the good days.
Gradually, though, the lingering radiation mutated an even smaller subset of the community. At first, it was just a few. It was no big deal. Some commented on it, then they moved on.
But one-by-one, more people were mutating. Little horns popped out of the tops of the heads of some women. They were the lucky ones.
The radiation was absolute shit to the men. They became lumbering, disfigured beasts. All the hair fell off their bodies, their skin turned leathery and olive green. Their jaws swelled up to double their size. They were so ugly that the rest of the people couldn’t even look at them. As happens in these situations, the Rising gave them a label—the Enders.
The desolate wasteland became known as the Ends. You know, for the end of the world, at least as we knew it.
Once you label somebody, though, it becomes easier to shove them aside. They pushed the Enders out to the fringes, cast out to the wasteland to deal with their mutations themselves. The female Enders went with them.
In truth, the Rising feared The Enders. They still do. The Enders are a pissed-off race now. Can’t blame them, either.
Conflict between the two has been a normal part of life for the last few years. Those of us who don’t give a shit one way or the other hide away in holes like The Last Stop here.
It wasn’t like a full-blown war had ever broken out. Not yet, anyway. Thus far it’d just been a bunch of jackasses playing cowboy and trying to be the big men in town. Pockets of violence were a daily occurrence, but it was disjointed, unorganized.
The drunks in the bar had reacted the way everyone does. That there could be peace between the two groups was laughable.
I realized the two women were watching me, waiting for me to say more. I didn’t mind their eyes being on me, not at all. Not that it mattered.
“I can’t help you,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
Chapter 3
Risk and Reward
“It was more than just a dream,” Gehn said quickly. Her expression was more animated than it had been thus far. “It held the weight of truth.”
I threw back the rest of the scotch in my glass, processing her words. I knew little to nothing about Ender culture, particularly the females. The males seemed simple to understand, bloodthirsty brutes that sought out death like a fly seeks a pile of shit. But this Ender woman was well-spoken and easy on the eyes. She radiated something that was hard to describe. It was almost like spotting a unicorn amongst a bunch of horses, and not just because of the horns. Even with them covered by the top hat, there was something about her that made her stand out. Still buying time, I slid the empty glass across the bar to Harrison and nodded for another. In a flash, the man filled it generously. I tossed him another quarter to ensure I was still in the black. I didn’t like owing anyone anything. I swiped the drink into my palm and walked over to one of the tables that was still standing.
This was starting to feel like an old-world movie. I’d seen Star Wars a bunch of times. I understood the whole Chosen One concept. Yeah, I was a decent shot and knew how to look after myself. But I didn’t carry a light saber and I didn’t have the last name Skywalker. “Look, you’ve got the wrong guy,” I said. “Maybe I look like someone else.”
“No,” she insisted. “It was you. Cutter. You were the one leading the new faction. The one that restored peace to the End
s.”
That’s rich, I thought. Which part of me seems fit for peace and harmony?
“No, thanks,” I said to her, taking another healthy swig of the good stuff.
Leaning backward in my chair and putting my feet up on the table didn’t get the message across. I considered pulling the brim of my hat back down over my eyes, but I’d already had a few drinks and was heading home soon.
Instead of pulling the hat down, I just sat there, drink in hand, staring out the window with a pleasant expression on my face, trying to make it clear—the conversation was over.
Unfortunately, these women were stubborn as hell.
“Look, Cutter, my friend here says she keeps having dreams about you,” Hannah said. “And she had no idea who you were until just a few minutes ago. Trust me, she’s not your typical Ender. You have to come with us. I’ll prove it to you.”
I laughed at the thought of a “typical Ender.” There was nothing typical about any of the Enders as far as I was concerned. Still, I was curious why this blonde bombshell was partners with the Ender, protecting her like a mama protecting her young. What was their connection?
I dropped my feet back to the floor. “Lady, I don’t have to do anything,” I said. “I helped you because I don’t like fat-headed assholes making a mess in my favorite watering hole. That doesn’t mean I have to go on the road with you. I wish you both the best of luck in finding somebody to do this—but that someone ain’t me.”
“We’re not looking for ‘someone’,” she insisted. “We’re looking for you. You are the one we want, and we’re not leaving until you give us a chance. We didn’t trudge all over the Ends to find you just to be shot down.”
I appreciated her moxie. She had a spine. I liked that in a woman. There was a desperation in her voice that was compelling.
“What’s it worth to you?” I asked. Just because the world had ended didn’t mean there was no economy. I offered my services from time to time and I knew what they were worth.
Then again, I didn’t want to shake them down for a bunch of money they didn’t have. I would let them set the price first and see what I was worth to them. Most offers I received were in the ballpark of twenty or thirty cents. Not enough to get me out of my chair.
Hannah pulled a handful of coins out of her pocket and placed them on the table. Two of the pennies in the pile continued to roll before dropping to the floor.
“I can give you $2.75 a week,” she said.
I tried to keep my best poker face. Shit. She was well-funded and willing to pay me what I was worth. The only problem: I wasn’t sure I could give them what they wanted.
But I could sure as hell try for that kind of coin.
I played it cool—even though all I wanted to do was grab that pile of money and shove it into my pockets before she took it away.
“Sweeten it,” I said, smiling.
With disbelief, she stood up straight, looking down at me. “Three dollars a week. That’s the best I can do.”
I chewed my lip, pretending to carefully consider her offer, as if I received similar ones on a daily basis.
“Deal,” I said, extending my hand. “But if the money dries up, so do I.”
Her lips formed a very real smile, one that seemed to light up the room, as she took my hand. We shook and, with my other hand, I palmed the money, depositing it in a pocket. I started to withdraw my hand, but hers lingered on mine. She ran one of her fingers up and down mine. Our eyes met, and I could see the desire burning in them, perhaps fueled by the adrenaline of the confrontation or by the rich deal we’d just made. Whatever it was, I didn’t care, because I was feeling something similar. “I still haven’t had a chance to properly thank you for helping us out,” she purred.
“No thanks necessary,” I said. “Plus, you said you had it covered anyway.”
“Even still…I have something to show you. Any chance your friend will let us take a tour of the back?”
I raised my eyebrows. Jesus, she was flirty all of a sudden. I wasn’t one to refuse an offer like this one, not coming from a woman like her. I pulled myself to my feet and glanced at Gehn, who was talking with Harrison, who was politely listening as his eyes glazed over. “He won’t mind. I’m his best customer.”
The Last Stop had a small back room behind the bar that offered a bit of privacy. I gulped down the last of the scotch and turned the glass over. Still holding my hand, Hannah led me around the bar and through the door. As soon as we were inside, she shut the door behind us.
The back room was about as well-stocked as could be expected these days. A few liquor bottles rested on one shelf. A keg stood in the middle of the room. The entire place was about the same size as an old phone booth.
It didn’t matter though. It was plenty of room for me to work.
The door had barely closed when Hannah shoved me by my shoulders, slamming me backwards into the door. Her lips followed, pressing against mine.
She moaned as I slipped my tongue into her mouth. Out in front of everyone else, she played it cool. But in here? She was a vixen.
I grabbed the lapels of her jacket and she threw her arms back, letting me slip it off her shoulders and let it fall to the grimy floor. If she only knew what was on that floor—but given our current situation, I wasn’t about to tell her.
Instead, I gripped her hips with both hands, guiding her against me. Her entire body was firm and muscular.
My fingers slid around to her ass, and I lifted her off the floor. She wrapped her arms around my neck and swung her feet around me, locking her ankles behind my back. Her mouth tasted more of my lips, my neck…
She wanted this as much as I did.
Her luscious body pressed up against mine as she straddled me. She pressed her chest against mine and I felt the swell of them, her nipples hardening, visible through her thin tank top. She exhaled sharply when she felt my penis respond. Instinctively, she ground her hips against it, which only sent more blood rushing to my extremities.
I spun her around and held her back against the door, using the leverage to give my arms a break.
She pushed up with her legs on my hips so that my hands could move freely. I unbuttoned my pants and shoved them down to my knees, just enough room to free my erection.
She kissed me harder, then unlocked her ankles and dropped to the floor. She unthreaded her hands from my neck and wrapped them around my shaft. Slowly, she lowered into a squat…
Her lips found my head, kissing it gently before running her tongue around the perimeter, making wet circles on the tip.
I threw my head back, groaning. It had been a while. I felt a little warmth rise to the tip, spilling free.
As the warmth hit her tongue, Hannah bent her knees and rested on them, brushing her hair back so I could get a better view.
Her head bobbed on my dick for several glorious minutes. She knew what she was doing down there, that was for sure. It took all my effort to hold back the flow, finally pulling her up under her arms. She used part of her shirt to clean her mouth and then kissed me again, our tongues flashing in and out of each other’s mouths.
With her left hand, she rubbed my cock furiously. The more she worked on it, the harder it got.
I yanked her white tank top over her head, exposing two round, supple breasts. I lifted her under her ass once more to bring them to my lips. Her nipples grew harder in my mouth as I flicked them with the tip of my tongue.
She wasted no more time. While I was sucking on her tits, she slipped off her pants, letting them fall to her ankles. She licked her fingers and rubbed her pussy, lubricating it. Satisfied, she rested one foot on a shelf and pulled me in close by my hips, my cock sliding between her legs.
With her left hand, she steadied herself by holding onto the back of my neck, pulling me closer while arching her back so I could continue to taste her breasts. She used her right hand to guide the head of my cock into her pussy, inserting just the tip of it and slowly rotating her hips.
Hannah let out a gentle moan as the head of my dick rubbed up against her clit, slipping inside her and then back out again. Her body shivered with pleasure.
I shifted my hips forward and slid the rest of my length into her.
“Oh!” she blurted out, though it was clear she’d been trying to be quiet given the thin walls between us and her Ender friend.
I smiled to myself—I didn’t care who heard what we were doing.
My hips pumped forward, feeling the moisture inside her. With every thrust, I drew closer and closer to the endgame, though I wanted to delay it as much as possible to ensure she achieved the same pleasure I knew I would. I picked up the pace, savoring every inch I could feel.
As I sped up, Hannah pushed her hips forward in return, our skin slapping together the deeper I went in. She wanted it as hard as I could give it to her, and that made things just a little more fun.
I steadied myself by grabbing her ass with both palms, squeezing them tightly. They were even firmer without her pants in the way—the sign of a woman who kept herself moving. Given she traveled as far as this outpost, I expected it.
She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pressed her tits up against my chest, running her fingernails down my back. Once she reached the bottom of my shirt, she pulled it up so she could grip my skin as she pumped her hips.
Her body tightened up as she built to her climax. I paused after every pump and ground my hips forward to get as deep as possible for her. Judging by her moans, she appreciated the effort.
She clutched me harder and her harder and then, finally, her body went rigid as the orgasm washed over her. “Oh, Cutter,” she said, her name as sweet as cherry pie on her lips.
“I’m not done yet,” I whispered.
With a smile and an impressed shake of her head, she began pumping her hips forward again. Pushing herself backwards, she pulled up the front of my shirt and ran her hands down my torso. She threw her head back so I could watch her tits bounce wildly in front of me while she held onto my hips for support.
