There was a drought on, again, which meant, obviously, no hosepipes or anything. Water was allowed at certain times of the day, and if a household went over a certain limit in a day they were cut off for the remainder of that day. Even though I was walking home in the dark, there was still a dryness, a heat, in the air which made it felt like it was midday. The darkness was good, though - nobody paid any attention to me in the dark. I could have driven home - I had a car, after all - but the walk was calming and gas was expensive.

Perhaps dying my hair scarlet was a bad idea: it attracted too much attention. We didn't want to attract too much attention. Yet. Our little baby rebellion group was still taking its first few tentative steps. One itty bitty balls-up would see us all dead without even achieving anything.

The apartment was dimly lit when I got in. It was late, after all. I was surprised to see Sunny lying down on the sofa, her little sister, Hope, in her arms. I mean, I knew that the two of them were all alone after their parents had been killed by Dracs, but did they really need to crash at ours so often? I presumed that Kobra would have fed them, too - he was such a sucker. I didn't work ten hours a day, five days a week to feed scroungers. Even if those scroungers were a drop-dead gorgeous nineteen-year-old girl and her adorable eight-year-old sister.

Sunny stirred under my gaze, and blearily opened her eyes, as green as the grass that used to grow here once. Well, grass still grew in the centre of Battery City, where all the rich fuckers lived. It was just us lower-class shmucks that were left with the droughts, the hunger, the backlashes of the atomic warfare way out in the desert. This was the area that outlaws and exiles looted. In short, it wasn't a very nice neighbourhood.

"Poison? That you?" She yawned, struggling to sit up without disturbing Hope. Eventually, she managed it, and stood up. Hope continued to slumber peacefully.

"Uh-huh. It's me. Where are the others?"

"Jet and Kobra are in bed. Ghoul just left for his night shift."

"Cool. It's kind of late. You want me to walk you home?" I waited impatiently for the excuse this time: their water had been cut off, she didn't want to wake Hope, there had been news of bandits and she didn't feel safe, etc.

Instead, though, she put a hand to her face and, with difficulty, supressed a sob. I was surprised, but at the same time noticed the light from a dirty yellow street lamp outside dancing on her hair. Sunshine golden, falling in glossy waves. When Kobra had suggested her Killjoy name, Adrenaline Sunshine, he'd picked perfectly. She was forever optimistic and eternally energetic. It was really weird, then, to see her... broken. That was the only word to describe it.

"What's up?" I asked, taking a step forwards. I could smell her perfume; I wondered how she's managed to get her hands on perfume. I half-raised a hand to place it on her shoulder, then lowered it again to my side and clenched it into a fist.

"Our house has been taken over by Dracs. I just fled, with Hope. If they'd found us squatting in that house... we were supposed to get out as soon as they killed our parents, but I didn't know where to go... Kobra said we could stay here for a few days, until we found our feet. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" I asked, confused.

She looked up, tears clinging to her spiders'-legs eyelashes like miniature diamonds. "I know that I'm nothing but a nuisance to you. I'm just a girl who was in the year below your little brother in school and made friends with him. I don't mean to sponge hospitality and stuff off you, I just have nowhere else to go and no-one else to ask for help. I need to think of Hope."

I was still shuddering at the thought of what the Dracs would have done if they'd found Sunny, defenseless, in that house. You heard such horrific stories... but her words recalled me to the present. "You did the right thing. I wouldn't be much of a man if I let a woman and a child sleep on the streets, especially with the Dracs swarming the place," I said.

"I can't get a proper job because I'm a girl, but I will earn our keep," she promised. "I'll clean the apartment for you, and cook."

"That'd be good," I joked feebly, "this place is an absolute pigsty, and none of us guys can cook."

"Well, at least I'll be useful, then," she said, smiling slightly. Then she yawned, and muttered, "I'm keeping you up. I should get to sleep, and so should you."

We both looked at Hope, who had sprawled across the sofa. Sunny bent over her and tried to gently coax her to roll over, but the little girl was having none of it.

"There's not enough room for both of you on there. Do you want my bed?" I asked. Then I added hurriedly, "I mean, I'd sleep on the floor, of course." Shit, I was a grown man of twenty-four years old. I knew things. So why did I suddenley turn into an embarassed teenager at the mere thought of Sunny sharing a bed with me?

"I'm cool with the floor - I should probably stay near Hope. She might get scared waking up in a new place," Sunny said. "I wouldn't mind a blanket, though."

"Hang on," I muttered, striding out. When I returned a minute later with a mat, a sleeping bag, a blanket and a pillow, she'd changed into a thin, yellow, cotton nightdress. I noticed a suitcase, clearly hurriedly packed, open in the corner, clothes, toothbrushes and books spilling out of it.

Sunny set up her mat and sleeping bag while I draped the blanket around Hope. She looked so peaceful and innocent when she was asleep. I prayed that Sunny would keep Hope's heart good, and not let her become corrupted by the teaching in the Battery City schools. I straightened up, resisting the urge to run a hand over her curls.

"Thank you," murmured Sunny. I looked at her, wondering what I should do now. She stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, as if she was wondering the same thing. Should I hug her? No, definitely not. Shake her hand? That would be weird. In the end, I just forced an awkward smile and nodded at her.

"Goodnight," I whispered.

She smiled. The nightdress must have been a size too small - it clung to her. "Goodnight, Poison," she whispered back.

I turned and left. Party Poison. What a name. Living with my little brother - The Kobra Kid - and our two good friends, Jet Starr and Fun Ghoul. And now, apparantly, Adrenaline Sunshine and Hope. I wondered if we would give Hope a Killjoy name soon, now she was one of the gang properly.