Like many people who lived out here at the edge of the Breaks, Calvin Bates had a lot of jobs. He did a bit of scavenging, and he was a pretty fair handyman. If you needed something fixed, Calvin had been known to patch it up for a reasonable exchange.

Somewhere along the way, he had also developed a reputation as a damn fine barber. Calvin couldn't even remember how it started. His father had taught him a bit when he was a boy, and he'd always been particular about his own hair. Over the years, he found himself offering shaves and haircuts, often to those of questionable appearance, and now it made up a good chunk of his living. Usually, a patron would set a bullet or two on the table on the way out. Bullets were extremely easy to trade.

There was even a sign outside. "Just Because You're a Roughneck Doesn't Mean You Have to Have a Neck Beard." His daughter had made it.

Calvin lived in his little shop with his daughter, Calvin Jr. She was thirteen now, and an important part of almost everything they did. Calvin Jr. was a fearless scavenger, and while she had gotten awfully tall, she was still skinny enough to slither into places that most people couldn't. She also possessed those tiny girl wrists that were indispensable when it came to reaching into machines to fix them. The girl had even taught herself to juggle, which sounded unimportant, but his barber clients loved it. Calvin found that, as a matter of scientific fact, outlaws left more bullets on the table when his daughter juggled while they were in his chair.

Over the past year, he had begun to realize that she was going to stay pretty. That worried him, especially out here. Some nights, it worried him a lot.

In all the ways that mattered, though, they had built a good little life out here, the two of them. Nine years ago, the girl's mother had gone to sleep and never woken up. In the months that followed, when Calvin had had a hard time just dragging himself out of bed, a happy ending was far from certain. Junior's big trusting eyes had pulled him out of his funk, a little at a time, and these days, he had less complaints than most folks. Six nights out of seven, he even felt safe.

Not today, though.

Because today was Tuesday.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Calvin dreaded Tuesdays.

The bright red truck pulled up outside of the shop, and two men with guns got out. They wouldn't enter the shop. They would only take up posts outside the door.

Calvin watched as the man who called himself Alex with Malice hopped out of the truck, waltzed through the door, and flopped into the barber's chair.

Alex looked up at him, and Calvin tried not to show the nervousness he felt.

"Make me pretty, Calvin. Or else," Alex said, like he did every time. He winked, to say he was only kidding, but they both knew he wasn't.

"Now where's my favorite juggler?" he asked.

Alex had always seemed to be fond of Calvin's daughter. What worried Calvin was that he was pretty sure that Junior liked him too. She underscored that point by the way she skipped out of the back room when she heard him.

For the next little while, Calvin worked on Alex's hair while his daughter tossed balls in the air, and Alex cracked jokes. The pit in Calvin's stomach never left, and he had to make an effort to keep his hands from trembling, which would be a disaster.

Calvin had finished with the haircut, and was halfway through the shave when Alex said something that made his blood go cold.

"Calvin, stop shaving me."

This is it, he thought. This is the day Alex finally kills me. He looked over at his daughter. He hoped she remembered the plan. Calvin had told her that if something ever went wrong when Alex was there, she was to run into the back, and grab the one grenade that they owned from its special metal box. She was to hold it tight, and inform Alex and the others that they could all taste the infinite together if they didn't let her leave quietly. Calvin thought he could buy her just enough time to get started.

Alex patted his knee.

"Come over and sit here for a moment, darling," he said.

Calvin Jr. looked at him. Calvin nodded to her carefully. She came over and placed herself on Alex's knee. Her long blonde hair fell into his lap.

"Do you know why today is a good day?" Alex asked her.

"Because you're here?" she answered in her slightly husky voice, so out of place on a teenage girl.

That's good kiddo, Calvin thought. She was learning how to deal with these types.

Alex laughed.

"Always true, but the reason today is an absolutely splendiferous day is that I got a message, and that message said that my plan is going about as smooth as the skin on top of your adorable little ears," he said, tracing his index finger along the top of her right ear.

She giggled, and Calvin had to resist the urge to slice open the man's face.

"Still, it's always good to have a backup plan, right?" Alex asked.

"Right. Daddy says you always have to have a backup plan, in case things go wonky," she said.

"Your daddy's very smart," rolling his head back to look at Calvin. Calvin shifted his his own gaze away from Alex's blue, blue eyes. He couldn't help it.

"So even though my plan is just about as perfect as a statue's breasts, I have a back up plan. And for that back up plan, I need a girl, about your age or a little older," Alex said.

Calvin gripped the razor tightly. If this thing got any wonkier, he was going to put the blade into Alex's neck as far as it would go, and hope they could make it out the back before the goons outside noticed.

"So, are there any little bitches that are giving my best girl trouble? Because if there are, I just know they would love to volunteer," Alex said