A riot. There was a riot going on down the street, and Logan was MIA.
Your local waste disposal unit requires your attention! Your local waste disposal unit requires your attention!
It wasn’t the first one during the long history of the ghetto, not by a long shot, but this time it was different.
Occupants of the block R are under house arrest! Occupants of the block R are under house arrest! Violators will be shot immediately!
She gazed down the street, hoping to see Logan braving through the crowd towards the entrance of the building. It was futile. There was no sign of him.
Your local waste disposal unit urges you to return home! Occupants of the block R are under house arrest! Violators will be shot immediately!
“Come on, come on… Where are you?” She whispered and squinted her eyes, trying to locate him. He had left earlier this morning, telling that he’d be back later with the potatoes that were now ripe for harvesting. And the next thing she knew there was a rioting crowd blocking the street in front of the three story barracks she lived in.
We repeat! Occupants of the block R are under house arrest! Lethal force will be used against violators!
Usually riots consisted of few individuals carrying hand-made signs, demanding more food or other consumables. This was something different. Instead of handful of people there were hundreds of them, and they were all carrying improvised weapons instead of poorly written pieces of cardboard. Instead of chanting their demands they were tearing in to everything at sight; to the walls of the surrounding buildings, announcement booths, and small carts that carried on the endless tasks of the local waste disposal unit. When she turned her head she could see roadblocks further down the street, as well as armed waste disposal vehicles. They just sat there, waiting for the rioters to get in range.
Occupants of the block R! Your waste disposal unit requires your attention! All the rioters will be shot immediately!
“Oh, god…” Logan was somewhere down there, in the bellowing crowd. She was positive about it. He wasn’t the type of guy to turn down the opportunity to have some fun. Getting shot wouldn’t matter to him, much. He was one of the few mutants still possession of his gift, his mutation effectively rendered the inhibitor chip useless, making it impossible to even install one in to him. But he could get arrested, and nothing good came to those who ended up incarcerated. Getting permanently mangled and experimented on were only the beginning of the process that would only end to the individual’s death.
Your local waste disposal unit is now authorized to open fire!
She turned away from the window and squeezed her eyes shut when first rounds of heavy fire echoed at the street. She placed her palms over her ears when screaming started and fell on her knees, praying for the dear life of her that Logan wasn’t among the rioters. And it wasn’t enough. She could still hear and see it all, in her mind’s eye.
Logan, leading the crowd, as cocky and arrogant as ever.
Logan, climbing over the roadblocks, bullets tearing in to him, only a small annoyance that he shrugged off effortlessly.
Logan, lying on the ground, his whole body peppered with smoking holes, his face an ugly, bloodied mess of minced meat, trying to recover from the trauma enough to push onward.
Occupants of the block R are under house arrest! Bodies of the violators will be disposed briefly. Your local waste disposal unit apologies for the inconvenience and thanks you for your cooperation!
When the door of her apartment opened and Logan walked in, carrying a back pack full of potatoes, she attacked him with all she got, pounding his chest with her fists, trying to tackle him and all the while screaming and threatening to put him under house arrest permanently. Logan let her continue while shrugging down the backpack and opening his jacket, then grasped her wrists.
“Do you think that I’m that stupid, kid?” He asked when she hiccupped and fell silent.
“I have more sense than to get arrested over rioting. Your parents asked one thing from me. They asked me to take care of you. I promised to do that. I don’t go around making empty threats or promises, kid,” he almost growled, his voice low and hushed.
Your local waste disposal unit recommends Deep Clean, the best brand in dental hygiene!
“Make sure that there are no rotten potatoes in there. If there’s even one spoiled they’ll be all ruined before you get to eat them,” Logan said, let go of her wrists and showed the backpack to her hands, then slammed the door shut and proceeded to take off his muddy boots.
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