My name, my real name that is, has escaped my memories. I couldn't even remember my own mother calling out my name. The only way I knew how to identify myself was as "Missile Kid". God, the trouble that name was known for. I hated thinking about what I've done, or what I needed to do. It was always painful. The only thing I could do was keep up a smiling face in the present.
One of the only things I could take solace in were The Killjoys. I heard about them on Dr. Death's secret radio station constantly, and they were the definition of heroes. Party Poison, Jet Star, Fun Ghoul, and Kobra Kid were a band of rebels, and they were fighting for freedom from BL/ind. Occasionally, they would send transmissions to Dr. D. and tell us all about their escapades in Battery City.
The Killjoys and Dr. Death had inspired me to fight the system. I broke into one of Better Living's vending machines for the Draculoids and stole food, batteries and a ray gun. But somehow they had figured out who I was, because who ever was in charge of Better Living sent Exterminators and Draculoids after me. I've actually killed some of them, and there were several close calls. The last battle, for example, resulted in 6 dead Exterminators and a zapped ankle for me.
So that leads me to where I was now; staggering wounded, hungry, and thirsty along the side of the road. It was dark and cold, and I could hear animals howling a few miles away. After limping for uncounted hours, my ankle couldn't hold out any longer, and I fell to the ground with my head on the pavement. I sighed. Well, this is it. I thought. Either I would die from fatigue, wild animals, or the Exterminators would return to capture me. This is the end. I heard a low rumbling closing in from a distance. That must be them. Maybe they'll be merciful on me. I laughed at the thought of those emotionless drones feeling anything, let alone pity for me.
The rumbling became louder and more distinct as it drew closer to me. I heard something else though. A sound I'd only heard on Dr. Death Defying's station. It was music! I opened my eyes and saw the tiny dots of car headlights. But there was something strange about it. Instead of the filtered, pure white lights of the vehicles BL/ind drove, these lights were yellow. It was about the same effect of staring at the sun. Closer and closer, the lights became blinding to me, and I had to shut my eyes. The roar of an engine was frighteningly close. I'm gonna die! I can't believe this is how I'm gonna die!
I braced myself for a painful demise, when I heard the squeal of tires deafeningly bombastic right next to my ear. Despite myself, I screamed and covered my face with my hands. I heard car doors open and slam and saw boots walking out from the car towards me. Then, there were voices.
"Oh my God, it's a kid! Is she okay?" Wait, that voice...it was familiar. Where had I heard it before?
"I don't know, let me check." I felt warm gloved hands turn me over on my back and lift up my head. I opened my eyes and saw a man in a blue jacket with bright red hair and a yellow mask hiding the upper half of his face looking down at me with a concerned expression. Standing around him were three other men. One of the men had long black hair, and was dressed in black jeans, a yellow t-shirt with black stripes, and a dark green leather vest, a bandana hiding his mouth and nose. A man next to him was also wearing black jeans with a yellow shirt and red leather jacket, with black biker gloves on his hands. His blonde hair was partially visible through the lifted shield of his yellow helmet. The last man was dressed in a black shirt and jeans. His leather jacket had numerous patches with colorful symbols. He lifted the shield of his helmet revealing curly brown hair. One other thing I noticed was that each of these men had a colorful ray gun, similar to the guns BL/ind used.
These people were Exterminators? They looked so different compared to any others I had come across. Not to mention, they seemed genuinely concerned about me, which was a trait never found in the cold killers of Better Living. But still...why else would they have come here? And with guns like those.
"Please," I said. "Don't kill me here. Not in the open." They all looked at each other, confused. Then the man with the bandana's eyes widened with realization.
"Hey guys, this is the kid BL/ind is looking for. Uh, Missile Kid, right?" He pulled his bandana down around his neck and put his hand on my shoulder comfortingly. "You don't need to be afraid. We're not the bad guys. We're gonna help you, okay?" I nodded just as I recognized who these people were. They weren't Exterminators or Draculoids. These guys were as separated from BL/ind as you could be.
"You're The Killjoys."