Chester and the 24-hour Lottery

“I’ve never been to this part of the city,” Chester remarked as Joey readied the rocket launcher, “It’s nicer than I imagined. How do they get away with this? I work with two shit for brains who reside in there,” he grinned slyly, hoping Amy and Sally were pissing in their panties, “and I know for a fact we all make the same amount of credits. I should live it up in there too. DNA profiling was the beginning of the end.”

“Careful,” Van hissed, slapping his arm, “Dissident talk raises suspicions. What’s the plan when we get inside?”

Chester tapped his fingers against the smooth black alloy of the UZI, “Blow shit up.”

“Oh, that’s original,” She gazed into his eyes with a serious countenance, “I appreciate you want revenge, but then what? Are you going all the way or scare tactics? Who knows what those people will do once you open fire. Just because you have free rein, doesn’t mean they won’t protect what’s theirs. Remember two years ago when the winner tried to steal-”

He waved her off, ”I get it! Okay... why don’t you...” Leaning down to whisper in her ear, smelling coconut, the urge to lick her skin became an itch he wanted to scratch. She might be using him, but couldn’t help crushing on the girl.

When he finished speaking Van smirked, sauntering over to Joey. He watched the pair, noting Joey hyped for action. Chester was glad the guy came. He’d have spent precious time trying to use some weapons what took Joey only minutes to do.

It was early morning, sunrise only hours away. The territory beyond the steel doorway lit but deathly silent. Had the residents fled or hidden after stating his designation?

“Take these,” Joey handed him earplugs, “Hold it over your shoulder and I’ll stand beside you,” he instructed, handing over the heavy tube, “There is a kick.”

Nervously, Chester faced the thirty-foot gate settling the rocket launcher over his left shoulder. Van stood off to the side, her expression a mask of determination as she placed her hands over her ears. Adrenaline coursed through his body and a maniacal smile spread across his face as he knelt down on the rough pavement.

“When the gate is down, follow Van,” he notified the man.

When Chester fired the weapon he wasn’t prepared for the heat from the back end or the destruction before them. Joey made sure they were at a safe distance, but the torn metal and debris from the RPG left the front of the neighborhood a scorched mess.

“That was awesome!” he crowed, “I wish I could see the replay.”

Van laughed, “Later. Hustle now.”

They completely demolished the entryway but the fire the RPG caused worried Chester as they walked forward. Van placed several knives inside the pockets of her vest, lugging a bag of extra ammo, handguns, plus the blowtorch while Joey strapped the flamethrower to his back.

Chester led the way and when they emerged on the other side of the gate, holding their hands over their faces, eyes stinging from the smoke, Van ran towards the checkpoint station as told. Joey followed but at a slower pace.

Looking around Chester caught sight of a fantastic courtyard with a magnificent silver water fountain in the shape of an elaborate D. D for Diamond.

Leslie Diamond.

Taking aim at the fountain, he contemplated destroying the area but then smiled and strode over to the large eighty-foot screen broadcasting his smiling mug. Waving at the TV, the two-second relay had him goofily flapping back.

“Hello Neighborhood Diamond,” Chester marched back and forth, brandishing the UZI, “Hope you’re enjoying Halloween so far. I know you have little brats hiding in your homes so I’ll make this easy. Leslie Diamond, Carl Picket, Amy Ingles, and Sally Red present yourselves in five minutes. Right here. If not, I’ll find where you live.”

Van jogged over, carrying a tablet, “It’s all here. Every resident. You should have Leslie Diamond name that fountain after you.”

He smirked, lifting the UZI and pointed it at the gazebo surrounded by lush rose bushes. The garden was well lit, with solar lanterns and twinkling webs of illumination overhead. Holding the butt of the gun tight against his body as the Vid instructed, let loose a barrage of bullets, the weapon jarring his whole frame.

A huge shit-eating grin split across his face until Van’s bland tone remarked, “Wow, you hit nothing but a few bushes. What’s your fascination with that gun anyhow?”

“Remember there are only three magazines for it!” Joey called, creeping through the flowers.

Chester sheepishly ducked his chin, realizing he came close to shooting Joey, the ONE thing the man asked him not to do, “I recall,” he cleared his throat, stood up straight, “You have three minutes remaining! Come out, come out wherever you are assholes! Hey Amy, you’ve got to be itching to take me on. I’ll even go hand to hand with you!” He inwardly cringed, Amy was a sturdy woman and could beat his ass in a fight.

Van shook her head, dark hair wrecked from walking through the fiery mess at the front gate, “They’re not coming, Chet. Hmm,” she examined the device, “Looks like Miss Sally Red is just down the left there and two streets over. She lives with her older brother, Stan, whom I work with. He’s a bully the same as Amy. This will be-”

“Mr. Drivel?”

Chester shifted to see Leslie Diamond standing at the edge of the patio where the grass met the pavement. Scowling, Joey aimed the flamethrower at her.

Leslie Diamond was dressed in a blue power pantsuit with her hands in the air, “Mr. Drivel, there’s no need for destructive antics. The residents of my neighborhood will give you whatever you wish.”

“Tell Joey to take her back to the truck and tie her up,” Van coolly suggested.

“Why?”

“Wouldn’t it be fun to visit all the neighborhoods? To play, capture the council leaders?”

Chester’s heart raced, and he licked his lips, realizing what Van implied. Take all five of Ozark neighborhood council officers hostage. He desperately wanted to talk to her in private again, but impossible to do in their current situation. They would have to drive hours to do such a thing.

“Can Joey do that?”

“If Diamond agrees.”

“Come here,” he waved Diamond closer, “If you obey Joey, I’ll refrain from causing any unnecessary damage. Will you comply?”

Diamond touched the blonde bun on top of her head and eyed Joey, “What will you do with me?” Was she flirting?

“Chet will do whatever he wants,” Van snapped, “You’re lucky he doesn’t shoot you in the tits. Go.”

They watched Joey and Diamond return to the gate then Chester turned and started towards Sally’s. Van bumped his shoulder, throwing him a wink. He couldn’t find joy at the moment. Everything felt off. What was Vans’ end game?

“Tell me about Stan. Is he a big guy?”

“Yes, and a mean one. Hi, Stan, remember when you made me clean the bathroom last week after you pissed up the wall? I have a special gift I can’t wait to fuck you up with.” Van chirped, impressing him.

“How do we know anyone is even watching?” He asked, “Do they have personal Vid screens?”

Then like a gang of bullies they were, Amy, Sally, and Carl marched forward in a single line. Van placed her hand on his arm and they stopped.

“What are you going to do?” she whispered.

He raised the gun, “I can’t shoot them. I’m not a murderer for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re not a fighter either. Carl’s a large man and Amy looks fit to slash your throat with the butcher knife she has. Sally, well, she seems ready to shit her pants, so maybe start with her.”

Chester took the bag from Van and rooted around until finding an eight-inch hunting blade and the blowtorch. Amy’s eyes narrowed when he flagrantly held it in the open. The trio halted several feet away and didn’t speak.

Van chuckled, pulling a knife out too, “You’ll hurt yourself with that blowtorch and it’s not an effective weapon. Shoot Carl and I’ll finish him.”

“Wait... you want me to fight two girls? What do you mean ‘finish’ him?” his hands began to sweat.

“Don’t be a pussy Chet,” she muttered, “Just take all the moments of abuse and allow it to fuel your anger. Get fucking mad!”

“I can’t,” he whined seeing Amy whisper to Carl, “It’s been a long day and I won’t shoot Carl. He’s a jerk, but hasn’t treated me as badly as Amy.”

Van pulled his vest until they were face to face, “You called these three out. What did you think would happen? That they would give you a hug and a high five? Stop doubting yourself and be the beast you keep hidden. Show these assholes Chester Drivel is a man who has what it takes. No remorse.”

“Typical Chester,” Amy taunted when Van let him go, “letting another woman boss him around. I laughed my ass off when I heard you won.”

“I don’t want any trouble,” Sally screamed, “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Miss Diamond told us to come out so you wouldn’t hurt anyone but you’re a sorry piece of shit,” Amy glared at Sally, “If you lay one finger on us we’ll be forced to defend ourselves and I swear I’ll kill you.”

Chester swallowed and tightened his grip on the knife, “Show me what you got, bitch.”

Carl took a few steps in front of the women, “Chester, leave them alone. You can’t hurt anyone.”

Rage coursed through his body as Carl gave him a stupid look as if he was being ridiculous. Years of being verbally beaten down by these idiots made him raise the revolver and shoot Carl in the leg.

At first, everyone stood in shock before exploding in a chaotic violent mess.

Amy let out an ear-splitting shriek, lunging forward with the butcher knife. Van leaped quickly as a cat, running to kick Carl as he fell to the ground. Chester cringed when she kicked him in the nuts but quickly refocused on Amy who swung downward with the blade.

“I hate you!” she shouted, slashing the empty air where he’d been a second ago.

Chester backed up and debated whether to shoot her and get it over with. Her face contorted with fury while Sally shoved Van off of Carl, slapping her across the face. He caught Amy’s arm, shoving the woman backward with enough force to unbalance her.

“What did I ever do to you!” he demanded, “I am a fucking person, just like you, you psychotic bitch!”

Breathing hard, Amy grinned and came at him once more. Chester dropped the gun and brought up the buck knife, drawing a crimson line across her armed one. She cried out in pain still rushing forward, causing them to topple and land hard.

“Chet!” Van screamed.

Amy lost her weapon when they fell, now trying to wrench his from him. They grappled until Chester rolled her beneath, stabbing her square in the chest. The blade sunk in so fast he took a few seconds before realizing it was as deep as it would allow.

Amy’s stunning blue eyes blinked and her hands went to her wound as blood flowed, pooling around her body. Chester yanked the knife out then retreated as Amy flailed on the ground like a child throwing a tantrum screaming profanities.

Looking at the others, noted Sally sprawled on the pavement. Carl held Van in a headlock, her tiny form scrambling for purchase. Chester rushed Carl as Amy had done and the three collided like a block of concrete, Carl falling, letting go of Van with Chester landing beside him.

“You shot me!” Carl growled, hands going for his throat.

Van jumped on his chest, punching hard, breaking Carl’s nose. Blood gushed and Chester brought up the knife but the man lashed out, popping him in the eye.

“Fuck!” he yelled, blinded with pain.

Rolling away from Van and Carl since he couldn’t see and keeping the knife tightly secure he heard, “Fucking bitch!” In a high-pitched scream.

He blinked rapidly, opening his good eye in time to watch Van viciously cut Carl across the throat. Blood sprayed the front of Van, covering her face in a grotesque shower that made Chester gag. Van climbed off of Carl as the man tried unsuccessfully to stop his death by placing both hands on his neck.

“Get up,” Van demanded with chilly fortitude, “Don’t look. Get up, Chet.”

In shock, he stood and watched her check Sally who she declared unconscious. Amy already bled out, no longer a threat. Van came back where he remained gawking like an idiot, took his hand and made towards the destroyed entrance.

“Satisfied?” Van snapped, “We need a place to wash. Tell Joey to order a cargo truck for our upcoming guests.”

He swallowed and avoided staring at her bloody person, “Fine. And no, I’m not satisfied. I feel empty.” That was a lie, he was feeling a lot of things.

“It’ll pass,” her voice dropped, “My family lives in Neighborhood Crane. We can be there in a few hours.”

Chester shook her off, “You need to clean up now. Go to Amy’s house to bathe but be careful. I’ll arrange everything else.”

“Chet,” she sighed, “You did well.”

Chester left her behind, thinking Van a cold-blooded killer without remorse. There was something wrong with him because he sported an erection ever since he’d driven a blade through Amy and she’d slashed Carl’s throat open like a human pinata.