Free Gyaros Book One: The Mice Eat Iron (YA 17+ Sci Fi Adventure) by Rohan Healy, Alex Healy Page B

said Mr Grayson with a broad smile, “you're shifts are almost over, how 'bout I pay you boys a little extra and you go get a couple of drinks tonight?”
    “Alright, sounds good!” Ryker replied, “and hey look I’m sorry for causing trouble Mr Grayson, those guys…”
    “Ah, ah, ah. I don’t wanna hear it, I don’t wanna know,” said Grayson placing a hand on each of their shoulders, “you boys just go out and get some R and R. We’ll start again tomorrow, I can take care of things here for the last couple of hours.”
    Miles knew that Hellen wouldn't like him drinking so he tried to politely decline the offer.
    “I'm sorry but my wife doesn't like it when I drink ,” he said sounding slightly disappointed.
    “Does she like it when you get your ass kicked in the middle of the street?” Mr. Grayson replied humorously.
    “Yeah, dude,” Ryker added, “didn't you say your wife left you anyway?”
    Miles thought about his situation, after everything that's happened, could a few drinks seriously do any damage to his relationship with Hellen anymore? Feeling his injuries as the shock began to wear off, Miles decided it would be best to kill the pain with Ryker at the bar.
    “Alright, I'm in ,” he answered with a cheeky grin.
    “Fuck yeah! I know a good place ,” said Ryker eagerly.
    Mr Grayson transferred the two their usual pay plus a generous 25% bonus and they set out once again into the rain.
     
    Ryker lead the way through narrow back streets filled with people and small lanes bustling with activity as the artificial lights changed suddenly from day to night with a loud clunk. Miles followed Ryker as they made their way, both limping slightly now feeling the full pain of their wounds. Neither of the two spoke much on the way to the bar except to complain about their injuries. And besides that, Miles was far too busy marvelling at the dingy underbelly of the Yellow Districts to sustain a conversation. The streets were filled with flashy neon signs and garish advertisements. Street vendors yelled out at the top of their lungs, peddling their wears and drunken brawls broke out spontaneously as ladies, boys and everything in between sold their bodies to anyone passing by. ‘Holy shit, I didn’t even know places like this existed,’ thought Miles who was thankful to have Ryker there to escort him through the frightening gauntlet that was the South West Yellow District at night.
    As they made their way down yet another dark back alley, Ryker stopped about halfway.
    “Well, t his is it,” he said with a smile.
    “What?” Miles replied, confused.
    “Uh, we're here,” Ryker pointed to a small sign above a heavy looking wooden door. Lit by a dim, flickering light bulb, the rusty metal sign read Wolf's Den.
    “You're joki ng, right?” said Miles angrily, accustomed to lavish restaurants and cafés of the Green Districts.
    “It's not as bad as it looks. C'mon I'll show you ,” and with that, Ryker pulled the heavy door open with a grunt of pain. Bright red light suddenly illuminated the dark alley and the sound of rain was now accompanied by loud chatter, clinking glasses and pulsating music.
    Miles cautiously stepped through the door and examined the inside of the establishment. His anxious expression soon shifted to one of surprise, this bar was probably the most well maintained thing Miles had seen since arriving in the Yellow Districts. Though relatively small, Wolf's Den had a lively and welcoming atmosphere. The customers were from a variety of different sub cultures and no one seemed to be causing any trouble. Behind the bar, four young women rushed around busily, mixing and serving drinks.
    “Hey, Wolf!” shouted Ryker over the loud noise of the room as he and Miles approached the bar. Upon hearing her name one of the women quickly looked up, she was the tallest of the four and wore a black leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows revealing several colourful tattoos on her