Chapter One: This Is How I Disappear
Desi 'Dizzy' Destroya looked out across the desert from the roof of the abandoned convenience store, alert and border-line paranoid. It had been eighteen days since she had last seen her man alive and well. She was alone, and could no longer tell you the number of times she had nearly been ghosted by BL/ind's minions.
Desi checked her watch, a trusty solar Timex, and sighed. It would be hours before Dr. D's next broadcast, and she was bored. She hadn't seen a S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W. anywhere near her hideout for days. If what had happened to Rasta Blasta had not made her spooks in every shadow, she would have believed that she was safe.
Dr. Death Defying had said the Fabulous Killjoys were on the move, hunting out recruits for their Danger Days army, stopping at every abandoned strip mall, petrol station, and convenience store; but Desi hadn't seen the Trans Am, or any other vehicle remotely resembling a part of the Killjoy convoy. Nothing but Rasta's bike, painted his colors in red, green, and yellow, with Desi's thunder bolt glossed on the right side of the windshield.
Suddenly, Desi's radio crackled. She rolled and pointed her laser gun at the sound, only to realize, with the sound of Dr. Death D's gravelly voice rolling out, that she was getting trigger happy. She rolled her eyes at herself, and zeroed in on the surprise broadcast.
"Listen up! All you crash queens and motor babies out there, we're calling you in. Somewhere on Route Guano, we're gonna be setting up a meet for all those Killjoys we've been missing in our runs. Get there fast, and you all better know how to shoot fast, and shoot to kill, 'cause we're making our move, sooner than later.
"You'll know the place when you find it, folks. Just look for the spider's nest." Dr. D's chuckle crackled out of the speakers. Ever since the incident at Better Living Industries Headquarters, he'd started using code, to further protect every Killjoy out there. "This is Dr. Death Defying, signing off. Remember, keep your boots tied, your gun close, and die with your mask on if you have to. Killjoys, make some noise!"
For a moment, feedback squealed, and then 'Planetary' came bursting out of the speakers. Desi cracked a smile for the first time since she and Rasta Blasta had gotten separated. The Fabulous Killjoys were calling them all home. And from Dr. Death D's code, as well as the American Anthem riff in the guitar solo, Desi knew exactly what to look for. The spider graffiti, somewhere near a flag still flying that wasn't branded with BL/ind's logo.
Maybe she'd find Blasta there. Desi hoped he'd escaped and gotten his ass to safety after the clap with the Dracs, and that the Killjoys had found him. She couldn't stand the thought of the alternative path events might have taken. If she let herself think about that, she'd get slow, and she'd get ghosted. Then where would Rasta be if he'd managed to survive?
A tumble weed blew down the highway, and Desi jumped. Damnit, she thought to herself, I haven't slept more than four hours at a stretch since we got separated, and I've been up for three days. I need to sleep, or I'm gonna shoot Party Poison the instant he steps out from his hiding place when I show up at the meet tomorrow. And considering the massive crush Desi had had on him before Rasta Blasta had stolen her heart, that fact would humiliate her for life.
So, Desi rearranged the rolled-up ball of hoodie and motorcycle jacket that Rasta had left lying by the bed the morning the Dracs attacked, and laid down to attempt a few hours of sleep.
Desi snuggled closer to Rasta as they lay under the dark California sky, safe on the roof of the abandoned motel."I think it's almost sad that the Fabulous Killjoys' HQ is a rusted out diner in the middle of nowhere."
Rasta chuckled, hugging her closer. "Well, my crash queen, have you ever heard that that diner is the safest place in California? All four or the Fabulous Killjoys are in one place, and I hear Dr. D is great with a shotgun." he said.
"It's not the safety, Rasta. When I'm with you, I don't even need one Fabulous Killjoy to watch my back," she replied. "It's about being cramped under a roof. There's no sky. Ever since I left the BL/ind life behind, I can't sleep without a blanket of sky. Even if it's the only way to be safe, I toss and turn all night."
"Then you would throw a royal fit if those rumors about moving the Killjoy HQ into Montana were true. The winters are mighty nippy." Rasta joked.
"You know the Killjoys would hate snow as much as me. They drive around in a topless Trans Am." Desi retorted.
"As always, you've got to be right, my Dizzy girl." Rasta said, and kissed her forehead.
"I swear, as long as we live, you are the only person who could ever call me Dizzy without a good deck to the face."
"I get away with everything, girl. That's why you can run away with me anytime you want." A shiver ran down Desi's spine. Rasta didn't get very wordy about his affections unless he was worrying. She forced down the worry, and resolved to be on guard, too. Until something happened, though, Desi would simply enjoy being around Rasta.
"That's great, hun, 'cause you're stuck with me. I promise, when our time comes, we'll march together in the Black Parade." Desi smiled, and kissed Rasta, sinking into his body.
When he finally pulled away, Rasta Blasta spoke. "You'll never be alone as long as I'm alive. I will always find you, no matter how many miles of desert I have to crawl along."
"I will always be waiting. And, I just might find you first."
Desi and Rasta were jolted awake by the telltale clean sound of a S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W. blaster charging up. They both grabbed their own blasters and aimed for the sound. The quick movement saved their lives, since the fabric of Rasta's jacket, which they'd used for a pillow, now had a smoldering singe from the laser blast.
Also, one of the five Dracs was now lying dead on the ground, singe marks on both his face and chest. If there hadn't been four other enemies, Desi would have high-fived Rasta right then and there.
They both shot wildly, and quickly took down two Dracs. The others rushed them, firing wildly. Desi felt a searing pain in her ribs and her vision went black from the hit. When Desi's sight cleared a few moments later, the Dracs were dragging Blasta towards the roof ladder. He was unconscious, and the shoulder of his shirt was smoking.
Desi drew her blaster at unbelievable speed and fired at the Dracs, but it was harder to aim because she didn't want to hit Rasta Blasta in the crossfire. She ran to edge of the roof, shooting at the Dracs and their motorbikes until her gun powered down, needing time to recharge.
As the Draculoids loaded Rasta onto one of the motorbikes and drove away, Desi's heart started to feel as if it was tearing in two. She still pointed her useless gun at the motorbikes as they pulled away from the motel, pulling the trigger again and again, hoping for a miracle. But it was futile. Miracles only came in the form of a Killjoy Cavalry, and Desi knew no one would come for Rasta and her.
The desert's flat terrain was a blessing of warfare, but a curse to her breaking heart. Desi could still see them several long minutes later when her laser whined, signaling that it had recharged. But they were merely tiny specks now, and she couldn't even see the bright colors of Rasta's clothing anymore.
Right now, Desi felt as though she was dying. There was nowhere for her emotions and grief to go. There were no Dracs around to kill, no Killjoys to bicker with, and no pirate radio broadcast to sing along to at the top of her lungs. All her pain welled up inside, and forced itself out as a scream, a scream of a woman who had been told her warrior wasn't coming home, of a soul losing its other half.
"RASTA!" Desi sat up in the lightning quick motion she was known for, and fired her blaster at an imaginary Drac standing over her.
"Sheesh… I guess it's a good thing I know not to stand too close to a Killjoy in the middle of a nightmare, or my fro would have a big 'ole hole in it." Desi jumped at the voice, pointing her blaster. The only reason she didn't shoot was because enemies like Korse and the Dracs would have shot first, asking questions never.
Near the service ladder that lead to the ground below, there stood a female Killjoy, with a small afro (small in the way of afros, anyway) and a feather earring. Her skin was dark, like milky cocoa, and her eyes were full of the sauce and spitfire Killjoy girls were known for. She wore a fluorescent pink, loose crop top paired with a neon yellow tutu skirt over bright green leggings. On her feet were poorly tied black canvas high tops, while a pair of scuffed blue roller skates dangled by the laces in her left hand. Two bright red blasters sat in a white cowboy holster on her hips.
Desi slowly replaced her gun into the thigh holster on her leg. She may be a Killjoy, but with the eighteen, no, nineteen days Desi had had, she didn't trust anyone right now. "Who the hell are you?" Desi asked.
"Such a crabby Killjoy! But I'll forgive you, 'cause you look rough, and I did sneak up on you." The girl with the afro had a gravelly voice like she had spent too much time screaming into the wind with the radio.
Desi wanted to like the girl, she seemed amiable enough, but it was difficult. "I asked you a question."
The girl jumped, and dashed over to Desi. She stuck out her hand, which was covered in a black fingerless glove that matched the rainbow of jelly bracelets on her other wrist. "Nice to meet you, and sorry about sneaking up on you, by the way." Desi ignored the hand, keeping hers near her blaster holster. The girl frowned, and quickly took her hand back. "I'm Candy Bang-Bang. Jeez, you're pretty twitchy. Been on your own long?"
"Nineteen days, and I started off pretty rough. And I'm Desi, Desi Destroya." The girl lit up, and started bouncing up and down on her toes.
"Oh my gosh, you're a legend around here! Why didn't I recognize your blaster? Damn, it's got the thunder bolt and everything." While she was dancing around, Desi picked up Rasta Blasta's hoodie and singed jacket, dusted herself off and headed for the service ladder. I don't care a bit if I'm a legend. Razor's crew was notorious for a million things, not many of them good, Desi thought to herself. Besides, I have somewhere to be.
"Wait!" Candy squealed. "Where are you going?" She asked, running along behind Desi.
"I have somewhere to be." Desi replied.
"Oh, you caught the broadcast, too?" Desi was contemplating reneging on her first opinion of Candy. The girl had seemed to be a spitfire, one of the 'keep up with the boys' types. Now, she was starting to look like she belonged in a pack of bubblegum.
"Yep. Gonna see if I can find…" Desi trailed off. "Someone. We got separated when Dracs attacked. And, hey, if I can't find him, at least I'll be around comrades. I might get enough sleep to stop trying to ghost Killjoys every time I turn around because my nerves are fried."
Candy sobered. "I can see why you're on edge. It's not good for a Killjoy to go lone ranger, especially a heartbroken one."
"Who said I was heartbroken?"
"No one. Just your face as soon as you were really awake, the way you handle that jacket. Like you were keepin' it safe for somebody that matters. You can't forget the fact that you woke up screaming a Killjoy's name." Candy looked out at the desert sunrise, her eyes mournful. It looked like she'd seen her fair share of heartbreak. "I can't promise to be your Tonto, but you can roll with me and my gang 'til we meet up with the Fabulous Killjoys and the Danger Days army."
Desi looked down at the roller skates in Candy's hand. "Thanks for the offer, but if those skates are how you roll, I'll have to pass. We stole a motorbike off a couple of dead Dracs a while back, and I'm looking after it for Rasta."
Candy looked at her skates. "Oh, these? We only use the skates when we're scouting things out. We've got a van, and I was planning on finding a bike myself." She looked at me again. "It looks like you can count on one hand how many hours you've slept in the last week, Desi. He must have really mattered to you."
Desi shrugged into Rasta's jackets, savoring his subtle and spicy smell surrounding her. She noticed that the scent was fading, and soon she wouldn't even have that last comfort. Just memories.
She hoped that she would find Rasta alive and well, soon. She refused to believe that he was dead. "He's the only hope for me. I wouldn't want to be here if I knew he got ghosted. That's why I can't let myself think he's not out there." Desi started climbing down the ladder, and Candy talked over the edge of the roof at her.
"Don't worry. Fate may have let BL/ind win one round, but the Fabulous Killjoys practically came back from the dead! You'll find him." Candy smiled and fiddled with her feather earring until Desi hopped to the ground. Candy quickly clambered down the ladder, and the two of them headed for the motorbike.
"So, you looked pretty confused when I said you were a legend. But, you haven't asked about it." Candy asked.
Desi shrugged, and kept walking. "I used to run with an infamous crew."
Candy stopped in her tracks. "I'm starting to wonder if you're the same Desi that everyone talks about. They compared you to Party Poison. Won't back down from any fight and totally unstoppable. Now you aren't even acting like a Killjoy. Where's the kick-ass? If we were all like you in the end, we'd kill ourselves by sleeping in."
Desi reached her bike and turned around. "I left my family behind the day I abandoned BL/ind. If I'd tried to open their eyes, I'd have ended up exterminated before I even left Battery City. Then, the guy who saved my life the first time I ran into a S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W. snare got snatched by Dracs and I have no idea if he's alive. Where do you think the kick-ass is?"
Candy put her hands on her hips. "Oh, let's end the pity party! BL/ind kidnapped Lil' Killjoy to lead the Fabulous Killjoys into a trap. They still ran in, guns blazing, and practically died for her, because they cared! If you love this Killjoy so much, honor his life or death, whatever it's gonna be, by keeping your boots tied, your gun close, and dying with your mask on if you have to. You're a Killjoy! Art is power! Channel all your pain to anger, all your love to determination, before you end up as another mushy."
Desi's hand strayed to her blaster. "Look, kiddo, you don't know me. Shit happens. What will they take from you? Almost everything. Then you'll be in my shoes."
"Never," Candy started, "will I end up like you, Desi Destroya. Being a Killjoy is about hope, and you've lost yours. I will never lose hope that we can save everyone from BL/ind, and I will never believe that we can be defeated. We have the power, even if BL/ind has control."
Desi pulled her dust goggles off of her neck and up over her eyes. "Whatever, Candy. Now, if you'll let me leave, I have a place to be." She readjusted the kerchief tied around her neck, and straddled the bike.
"We know where the meet is, and we'll take you there, if you want." Candy had one of her blasters in her hand, spinning the gun around her finger.
Desi sighed. "Sure," she said, "Might as well save time, since you are likely on the verge of telling me that the Fabulous Killjoys will kick my ass back into its supposedly legendary shape."
Candy perked up. "Most definitely! Now, we should probably both get going. We're just down the road a bit, towards Route Guano."
Desi twisted the throttle on her bike, and the engine roared to life. "Hey, since your skates probably can't keep up with the bike, you might as well hop on."
Candy bounded over and crawled onto the bike. "Bear hug!" She squealed, and held on tight as Desi peeled out, leaving the smell of burning rubber in her wake.
The only thing I ever regretted about Rasta and his bike,Desi thought to herself, is that Dracs don't need CD players, or radios. BL/ind sucks. But, soon enough Candy compensated, pulling out a handheld CD player and plugging an ear bud into Desi's ear, nearly making her wreck the bike before they were even out of sight from the convenience store. But, it was worth it, in her opinion, as Destroya, the song she took her Killjoy name from, flooded her eardrums.
The miles flew by, and suddenly, Candy tapped Desi on the shoulder, signaling she take the left turn coming up. Soon, Desi could make out the outlines of a distant vehicle further down the new road. As they drew closer, she could see that a crowd of people surrounded the van, all of them milling around and talking amongst themselves. It also appeared that they had a stereo blasting, because a small group of Killjoys were dancing around and having air guitar competitions.
The next thing she knew, the guards keeping watch for the cluster of rowdy Killjoys signaled the rest of them that Desi was coming. For a moment, they looked hostile, until they noticed the bright colors adorning her bike.
Desi came to a stop about twenty feet away from the Killjoys, and both she and Candy climbed off the bike. Desi pushed her goggles up onto her forehead and pulled her kerchief off of her mouth. The desert was wonderfully warm and dry, the dust from her bike quickly settling around her. Candy danced forward, shouting. "Guess what, Killjoys! I brought us a legend!"
Of course, murmurs immediately raced across the crowd like wildfire. A doubtful Killjoy spoke up immediately though. "What legend? Everyone knows the Fabulous Killjoys always travel together. And that they're all boys," the stranger said, looking Desi up and down, from her untied combat boots to her lime-green, pleated, plaid miniskirt to the rough-cut red bob of hair that hung around her face, barely reaching her chin. "Not that you being a girl is a bad thing, miss." Desi couldn't decide if she wanted to grimace or smile. 'Miss' was practically an ancient term these days, and hardly any Killjoy girl was a lady.
Candy sighed dramatically. "Okay, not the legends, but a close one. You know how many people in this crowd have heard of Desi Destroya, Miss Party Poison herself." Candy cast a sideways glance at Desi, seeming to add a silent comment to her. Her eyes said, I'm telling these people who you are, so you better start acting like yourself again, and damn fast, too.
Killjoys all through the crowd let out whooping cheers, and the chant of 'Destroya, Destroya" was started up. Desi was contemplating basking in the glory (the right of any Killjoy), or taking the modest route and telling them they were overdoing it, when someone started to push their way through the crowd. Silence fell in favor of curiosity as the newcomer elbowed his way to the front.
A Killjoy boy, wearing black skinny jeans, green motocross boots, and a faded gray shirt with a hand drawn dreadlocked jester emblazoned on the front, stepped forward. His dark brown-red hair was short, and he had rolled up a yellow bandana and wrapped it around his forehead. One ear was gauged with an old pinky ring, and the other held a pirate-like brass hoop. He had green eyes, unmistakable eyes, eyes that nearly glowed in the desert sunlight...