Battery City Rebels: Part One

They didn’t get back onto the main highway at first. Instead, they drove alongside it for a while until Fun Ghoul turned his bike. The engine was too loud to try and ask him where they were going. He eventually stopped at an abandoned diner. He parked the bike and climbed off to drag it toward the side of the building where it couldn’t be seen from the road. Route Guano was invisible now. But there was still a usable and undamaged road.

The air was hot and stale inside the building, though most of the original diner was still there. The scent of decades-old grease hung in the heat. There was a line of perfectly preserved booths along the greasy, dingy windows. Ghoul led her to the booth the farthest back from the front doors. He sat with his back to the wall to keep the parking lot and front door within sight. She slid into the booth in front of him. He kept his eyes on the windows, watching the road and the skies for signs of a tracker.

“Where are your friends?” she asked, leaning her elbows on the table to prop up her head.

“Probably scouting to make sure nothing is following.”

“How long do you think it will be before they get here?” Now he turned his attention back to her. His smile was devious and dangerous.

“Long enough.”

She hopped onto the table and slid her legs to either side of him. She moved onto his lap as slowly as she could. But he was impatient and tangled his fingers in her messy blue hair, pulling her down onto him.

“Was it the rocket launcher?” she wondered.

“That definitely played a part.” He kissed her again. She waited until he was bold enough to move his lips to her neck before speaking.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Is this just because I’m here?”

“It’s because I like you.”

“If that’s the case, then why is it just you? I know you said the others have pasts or people, but that doesn’t always stop people out here.”

“Kobra is loyal. And he has the misfortune of being in love. Poison has a past that includes an empty grave and a kid. Jet Star has someone, but they don’t have labels. You’re more my type anyway.” He wasn’t looking at her. Not her face, anyway. He was busy looking down, trying to work on the buttons of her jeans from such a tight space.

“What type is that?”

“Feisty. And closer to my age. Trust me, it matters.”

“You’re the youngest of them.”

“Yep.” He got the jeans unbuttoned and now had to work on getting them off. “Now you, same question.”

“Do you know what I fear more than the Scarecrow?”

“What’s that?”

“Love.” He paused. He was pressed up close enough that she could feel him breathing. “But it’s been a long time—since I’ve been close to someone.”

“I’m not looking for love either,” he admitted. “That’s why I don’t have someone of my own. There are plenty of temporary someones. But nothing permanent. You understand?” She nodded quickly.

“I just wanted to be sure we were on the same page.”

“Message received.”

Then he slid his hand right down the front of her jeans. She propped herself up against the table and dropped her head back. The diner was dirty, old, and clearly unused. But that was just fine. She wasn’t looking for romance and couldn’t afford to be picky. So she moved back onto the table when he began to inch her jeans down. It was too difficult to keep his hand busy with the other one undressing her. So he gave one up in favor of the other.

He got one leg free from a boot and then her jeans and managed to get her underwear down past her ankle before giving up. They didn’t need to get undressed entirely, and it was probably better if they didn’t anyway. So she pushed her feet against the back of the seat on either side of him, and he worked his jeans down to his knees. Then he took hold of her hips with the roughness of a man who didn’t get to do this often.

There was no real connection in what they were doing. And she preferred it that way. She didn’t take her pants off to form a bond with him. It wasn’t meant to be special or sweet. She’d take advantage of it while she could, and then she’d be gone in a few more days. After that, they might run into each other again and have fun. Perhaps they’d even make a thing of it once they learned what the other liked. But she didn’t want to care about him. And she didn’t think she’d be alive long enough to bond with him. It was risky to fall in love when life expectancy was short, and there wasn’t much left to live for.

She dropped back onto the table, unable to keep herself up. Her head hung over the edge, and she ran her hands through her hair. He kept one hand on her hip to keep her from sliding off the table. The other lifted her shirt enough to run his fingers over the bare skin of her belly. She liked being touched. Being wanted. And not just because she was a woman in a world where women had to grow sharp teeth and claws just to survive. But because he genuinely seemed to like her.

But then she heard it, the unmistakable sound of an engine. She gasped and gripped his wandering hand.

“Car,” she breathed out.

“What?” he replied. He was breathing as heavily as she was, so focused on her that nothing mattered to him either.

“Car—I heard a car.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

Of course he didn’t. Because he was breathing like he was running from Dracs. Then they heard the sound of a car door slamming shut. He finally paused, holding onto her hips as if to stop her from pulling away from him. He leaned and peered out through the dusty blinds.

“Shit,” he said.

“Are they here?”

“Yeah, they’re here.”

“Then move before they see me.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“They won’t be able to see anything. Except for your legs. It’s not a big deal.”

“But they’ll know.”

“We don’t have enough time for them to not know. Not unless you can teleport your pants back on.”

“It’s weird.”

“Do you really want to stop just because these assholes showed up early?”

She didn’t. She was torn between her desire to finish and not wanting anyone else to see her in such a vulnerable position. She wasn’t a quick screw. She was a person. And she didn’t want any of them to ever think she was anything less.

“No,” she growled, sitting up on her elbows to make sure she was blocked from the door.

“Good, because it’s too late.” The door opened with a jingle of bells.

“Oh, Jesus,” Kobra whispered. Ghoul just smiled over her as she shut her eyes in embarrassment.

“We’re a bit busy,” he said.

“Put your dick back in your pants. We need to get out of here,” Poison instructed.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll meet you outside.” The door shut with another jingle of bells. Their voices carried out into the parking lot. She opened her eyes again, irritated, embarrassed, and sexually frustrated. He pressed his fists to the table and leaned in closer.

“You still want to finish?” she asked.

“You’re damn right I do.”

“Good. Make sure I don’t regret it.”

He didn’t. He got right back to it, gripping the other side of the table to give himself more leverage. But the table was weak. Not made for this kind of thing. So it began to squeal from the motion, hitting the blinds and making them shake in an undeniable rhythm that had to be visible from the parking lot.

It didn’t matter. She could be embarrassed about it later.

Moments later, he pulled away suddenly and sharply, making sure not to create a different sort of problem. He pressed his forehead to her chest, and they both stilled, breathing hard and ragged.

“Do you regret it yet?” he asked, breathing hot against her skin. Her shirt had come up just enough to feel his breath on her bare stomach.

“Not yet.”

He lifted his head and pulled her in for another rough kiss as if it would seal what they’d just done. Then he moved back to get his jeans back up.

“Do we still have unfinished business?” she asked, sitting up and trying to work her clothes back onto one leg. He laughed.

“You bet your ass we do.”

There was a thunk on the window like someone had thrown a rock.

“Let’s get out of here!” someone yelled from outside, apparently taking their cue from the now still blinds. Ghoul helped her off the table and located her missing boot while she adjusted her clothes.

“I’m actually kind of embarrassed to go back out there,” she admitted.

“Don’t be,” he said, handing the boot over. He smiled down at her. Enough to make her insides turn to mush. She didn’t know why she felt that sudden rush. They’d already done it. “We’re all just animals in the end, aren’t we? Besides—I’ve seen them doing worse.”

“Gross.” He laughed and leaned down to kiss her again. It was a sweeter kiss. Not fueled by heat and desire. Her arms came around his shoulders, and he held her close. Kissing her like he meant it. She was almost shocked by the sudden affection. He got what he wanted, didn’t he? There was no need to woo her anymore. Maybe he was still riding the high, apparently making blood rush to her brain.

“Jesus Christ! Hurry the fuck up!” someone shouted. He pulled away and smiled.

“C’mon. Let’s get out of here.” He pulled his bandana back up over his face and located his sunglasses.

They met the guys after she got her boot situated and her face covered again. She was grateful for the excuse to block out her blushing cheeks. But she didn’t say anything about it, nor did anyone else. If they were exchanging bets, they wouldn’t do it in front of her. Instead, they were all sitting in the car with the windows rolled down, looking sweaty and bored.

“Let’s go,” Poison said right before starting the engine.