Chapter 1. Look Alive Sunshine.
"T'at's it for today's transmission, Tumbleweeds. T'is has been Dr. Death Defying. Signing off." The man removed the headset before turned his eyes back to the screen.
The dark haired man ran a withered hand through his beard, his eyes narrowed and his forehead scrunched in thought. He analyzed the glowing screen, concern lacing his features, from his pressed lips to the crease in his forehead. All the evidence pointed to one thing but who was doing it? It wasn't good, that was for sure, this could be seriously dangerous for their home, headquarters, missions and to their lives.
There wasn't much he could do to stop it, it looked like whoever was intercepting them could easily just work around any protection and continue to listen in on the Killjoy's plans. But the question was who was it? If it was Bl/ind or Dracs, they were screwed. But how would Bl/ind get a hold of their transmissions? Dr. Death Defying was certain that the guards, walls and protection programs in the computers and radios were able to hold their own against such advanced technology. But maybe that was it. The Killjoys communicated by hacking Dr. D's transmissions with old, early 2000, technology, so what if Bl/ind had figured it out? What if they found the station and used old hacking devices to get a hold of the Zones?
But how would they have known? They wouldn't have. Dr. D hoped that it was just some malfunction, unrealistic, but he's pulling at strings here, or maybe some kid was in desert, trying to find the Killjoys. Maybe someone was looking to join or at least escape Bl/ind and the Dracs. Looking up to the ceiling, Dr. Death shut his eyes and sent a quick prayer, pleading with who ever was up there that Bl/ind hadn't hacked them. The old DJ wasn't a religious man, but he made it a point to pray when shit might be going down. And it was a pretty good stress-reliever, something needed on a daily basis when dealing with the Killjoys, Bl/ind, Show Pony, and Missile Kid and anyone else in the desert.
Grown men my ass. He snarked. More like colorful children who can drive. With guns. But, he also knew that if someone would be able to bring down Bl/ind it would be those four. Or they'd die trying.
He sent another wary look at the silver screen and sighed. It was futile, but he'd make sure to tell the Killjoys to leave more cryptic messages from now on. He shut down the computer in time to hear the loud roar of the boy's Trans Am outside the safe house. Back from the evening patrol already.
Slowly, he made his way down from the attic-turned-studio and was greeted with the loud chatter of the Killjoys. Missile Kid was giggling and bouncing around, glad to have the boys back. Show Pony just laughed and teasingly flirting with them. Jet, the only one who wasn't used to Show Pony's methods, still looked uncomfortable, making him target number uno. Surprising he wasn't used to the teen yet when he spent all his time with the rest of gang, especially Party and Ghoul.
But Dr. D had to hand it to Jet Star, the guy was a lot more sensible than the rest of his 'brothers'. He was also one of stronger Killjoys and the only one to routinely workout. The afro-wielding-white-man was the muscle of the group.
Jet cast the Doctor a weak smile before yelping and scooting away from Show. Show giggled and ran a hand down Jet's arm, causing Jet to back away again but the gay teen only stepped closer, giggling still. The DJ let his eyes travel to the other members of The Fabulous Killjoys.
The Kobra Kid was leaning against the door frame that led into the kitchen, watching the others interact with the barest trance of a smile on his lips. Kobra was definitely the brains of the operation, behind the Doctor of course, and was the most level-headed one. He managed to keep some of the strongest and coldest poker-faces the Doctor had seen. He was the complete opposite of his brother. In character and appearance.
Fun Ghoul was their 'Little Ball Of Fury' and he proudly lived up to the name. A grown man that was only 5'4", laced with tattoos, and had the quickest temper out of all the Killjoys, but he was also the easiest to distract and calm down. And most of the time, Ghoul was the happy-go-lucky one.
And then there's Party Poison, the leader of the Fabulous Killjoys and brother to Kobra. He was at times one of the easiest, quick-witted, and charming of the Killjoys to be around. He wasn't the quickest to anger, he didn't judge, and he wore his heart of his sleeve, but damn. When the redhead got angry, well, you better hope he wasn't angry at you. His rants could stretch on for hours and his was a beast in a fight, he not only knew how to throw a punch but he is also the best shot out of all the Killjoys. Not to mention agonizingly, teasingly arrogant.
Together the four of them were a force to be reckoned with and that was why Dr. Death was willing to bet they would be the death of Bl/ind, and it seemed, Bl/ind knew that too.
Missile Kid was now in Party's arms, giggling and laughing away. The redhead grinned and poked her nose gently causing to start laughing all over again. It felt good to see the Killjoys actually enjoying themselves and hearing Missile Kid laugh, especially in a time like this. The Doctor let this thoughts wonder as the boys pulled out the cans of food and placed them on the table, he let them wonder back to a time when the world was free, back when the USA was in power and everyone had the right to their 'God given principles', back when music and color and life were allowed. To a time when Better Living, or more commonly known as Bl/ind, didn't rule the last of the human race.
He missed his city. Missile Kid was too young to remember the world before Bl/ind but the Doctor knew the boys remembered. If he recalled it right, they were in some big rock band and there had been five of them. But then disaster struck, the world was up in flames, and only a measly population of survivors came through. Including four of the five band members. Only one million out of the entire world lived. And then, when things couldn't seem to get worse, the new Chinese government rose from the ashes and created Battery City where Los Angeles once stood. And Better Living ruled, turning the once free country into a bleached-out lie of a utopia. The people needed something, so many signed up for the new world, signed up for a new life. But there were few who saw the flaws and ran away, finding refuge in the desert.
He looked at the curly haired eight year old sitting next to Party and smiled fondly. She had become like a daughter and sister to all of them and they would all risk their lives for her. And she had no clue about the power she had over any of them. He could remember the day he found her, a young toddler, alone in what was left of a 7-11, and crying out for her mommy. The Doctor picked her up and took her with him back to the safe house where he had been living recently with a group of young boys.
"Dr. D, dude. Dr. Death Defying!" He was snapped out of his reminiscing by Ghoul yelling at him. The Doctor scowled but Ghoul only grinned cheekily. "We've been calling your name for a while now." He said. "But, fuc-geez, man. I knew you were old but I didn't think you were getting that old." Ghoul cast a quick look at Missile to make sure she didn't catch his slip up, but continued to grin smugly. The Doctor narrowed his eyes and, as quick as lightning, brought out his ray gun and fired the beam right next to the young Killjoy's head.
Ghoul froze, his smile dropping instantly. The Doctor grinned wolfishly, "Ol' man, 'uh? Well let me show ya 'Ol' Man.'" He rumbled out, letting his teeth, yellowed from years of smoking, peek through. He clutched the trigger again and aimed it at Ghoul's head. Ghoul laughed nervously, looking rather pale, and gulped while the rest of the table laughed at his expense. Missile giggled, though it was clear, she didn't know what was going on. The Doctor trained his gun onto Party,
"What about ya, pretty boy? Tink an' ol' man like me couldn't take ya out?" The Doctor had to hand it to the redhead, losing his cool in the face of danger and death, wasn't apart of his forte. Party smiled charmingly,
"I know you could try and take me out, but i've a couple of my own tricks." The leader smirked. "Old man." But he was one cocky son-of-a-bitch when it came down to it. Dr. Death growled but put the gun away. Party only let his grin grow. But the Doctor wasn't done yet, he snatched a knife off of the table and launched it into the air letting it slide right past the redhead's face. But Party just ignored the blade and used his napkin to wipe off some of the food from Missile's face. He flashed the DJ a cocky wink.
He might not like to admit it, even to himself, but he couldn't deny the guy had balls.
The Doctor scowled but changed the direction of the conversation. "Anyt'ing happen today on patrol?" Normally nothing seemed to happen when they were out, maybe a Drac fight or two but nothing major or worth fusing over.
"Actually, yeah." Party stated, his cocky attitude gone and was replaced by his all business-leader look. "I mean, not really, but... well just hear me out." The Doctor nodded. "There was a Drac, we actually ran over it without knowing it, out by the boarder of Zone 5. When we went to inspect it, it was dead. We figured we had killed it until we noticed the ray-beam injury in the center of it's chest. From the place and everything we concluded that it was either killed by another rebel or maybe it was suicidal, or hell maybe the others turned on it." Party paused with a shrug. "We figured we'd send out a message to the other Zones, asking if anyone shot a Drac. Not really surprising but..."
Kobra picked up after breaking away from staring at his fork and empty plate. "Something about it wasn't right. The injury was different than what you normally see in ray-induced burns. It seemed to have almost cleanly shot a hole through the body." The Doctor was convinced that was the most he had heard Kobra say at once. But he leaned back and took in the information.
"Could have been new technology." Jet suggested and Ghoul nodded his agreement. The DJ was inclined to agree.
He nodded and let his fingers run through his beard like he did when he was deep in thought. "T'at's a high possibility." He noted, his voice grave and raspy. "But if it was, then why was it used on a Drac and, as horrible as t'is sounds, why not on a rebel? Why waste men? Not t'at they care, but it is a question."
"Maybe someone stole the gun?" Ghoul offered. The Doctor nodded again.
"Maybe..." He cleared his throat. "But I have one last thing for ya, boys. Keep yer transmission messages more cryptic, if ya have to use them at all." The Killjoys looked at him questioningly. He offered a weak grin, "Just an extra precaution. I'm not going to go into details, t'ere's too much still unknown, but I t'ink someone might be hacking the radio show. Whet'er its Bl/ind or someone else, I'm not sure. Just... just be secretive." The Doctor stood up, his still full plate in hand, "I'm going to finish t'is upstairs an' tomorrow morning I'll send out a message asking the Zones for a new kind of ray-gun." He faced Missile. "Hun, it's bedtime, ya can play with the boys tomorrow."
Missile pouted, but followed the DJ out of the kitchen and upstairs to her small room, leaving the Killjoys and Show to converse together.
End of chapter one. Kinda boring but it'll liven it's self up. Eventually. Part one of a five part series has now been started. Care hangout for the rest of the ride?
Later Tumbleweeds.
TBATDP, Out.