Could she?
I took my time going back to my motorcycle, racking my brain of the time I'd spent with Myrtle. She hadn't stayed at Heathen Heights long, but she'd definitely left an impact on me. There wasn't a day I didn't think about Myrtle and her plight. She left a mark on me in a way I'd never expected. I'd only ever had platonic feelings for my sister and... Myrtle.
But... did Myrtle have a sister?
The two women did look quite a bit alike. Although as I straddled my bike and flipped the kickstand up, I decided that Eleanor was far more attractive. Something about her adorable, pretty face paired with her strength and rage when she pulled that glass out of her foot and took off running was stirring something in me. I didn't just want to fuck her. I wanted to get to know her.
My bike roared to life and I headed back to Heathen Heights, leaving Milton's corpse where it landed, and thinking of Eleanor and my next move.
I had to meet her.
Chapter 35 - Riot
Lend a helping hand.
One year previous
Ashadow in the distance caught my eye as the sun rose over Heathen Heights. I set my cold coffee down on the fence and cocked my head. The shadow was moving. It collapsed and when it struggled to its feet, I realized it was a woman.
Something compelled me that morning to open the gate and walk, unarmed, the quarter mile to her. As I got closer, a person took shape. A tan, brunette young woman in a weird dress. She looked like she'd stepped out of a billboard for the American Dream.
"You alright, miss?" I asked, stopping about 15 feet from the strange woman. Her head shot up, and black eyes met my emerald ones. Her face was dirty and scuffed.
"Help," she croaked.
"Help what? Where'd you come from?" I demanded. In the 20 years I'd been on this earth, you learned real fucking quick not to trust anyone. If I sensed a threat, I'd leave her here for the beasties to get.
"Bunker 237." She punctuated every number as if that meant something to me.
Was 237 meant to mean something to me?
"You're from a bunker?" I raised an eyebrow. I was curious now. "What's your name, darlin'?"
"Myrtle. Do you have water?"
"Do you have a gun?"
She looked at me as if I'd said the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. She stood up straighter and slowly raised her arms. "Feel free to check, but I don't even have pockets."
Cautiously, I stepped forward and patted her down. Deciding she wasn't carrying, I nodded.
"I've got water. Follow me, you can rest at Heathen Heights."
"What's that?" She trailed behind me at a bearded snail's pace. I slowed, letting her catch up.
"It's my house. How long have you been outta that bunker?" I opened the gate and welcomed her inside. She stared up at my house, her mouth falling open in surprise.
"This is all yours?"
"Mine and my sister's, but she's traveling down Mercury Mile right now. She'll be back eventually. Come on in, you hungry too?"
“Mercury Mile?”
She came inside and I fed her some bread and gave her glass after glass of water. I waited patiently for her to speak, and finally, she looked up from her cup.
"Thank you. I thought I was going to die out there."
"Where were you headed?" I leaned against the counter, fascinated by the woman sitting in my kitchen.
