Motorbabies
n.
Kids on the run, children of the carburetor. Survivors, with ammunition and a love for speed.
"Shiny, isn't she?" Kobra Kid asked, smiling with pride at his motorcycle.
Fun Ghoul whistled appreciatively. It was a nice-looking sport bike, very sleek and aerodynamic. "You jacked this?"
"Yep," Kobra replied. "Couple days ago. Poor Drac never knew what hit him." He frowned at the vehicle's monochrome body, plain white except for the words "Sniper Cycle" written in cursive on the side; white was such a boring color. "I would give it a new paint job, but that'd ruin the whole plan."
"Of course." Fun Ghoul shifted nervously at Kobra's mention of the plan. He had been eager enough about Dr. Death Defying's convoluted scheme last night, but now he was having doubts. It wasn't that he didn't trust Kobra Kid, but the thought of riding a motorcycle, even if he didn't have to drive, into a potentially deadly laser fight was not his idea of a good time.
Sensing his anxiety, Kobra began his safety instructions. "Okay, so rule number one for not dying on a motorcycle: always wear your gear. Got your helmet?" he asked, tapping his own. They were also decked out in protective leathers in case anything went wrong, but Kobra knew that on such a short ride, the only thing that those would be good for was intensifying the heat from the desert road.
"Yeah," Fun Ghoul held up the helmet he'd borrowed from Jet Star, pitch-black and thankfully well padded.
"'Kay. Rule two: don't get shot."
Fun tried to chuckle at his friend's attempt to ease the tension, but instead he confessed, "I'm more worried about falling off the bike."
"Then I'll show you how to stay on." Kobra Kid pointed out various parts of the vehicle, telling him where to put his feet, where to keep his center of gravity for optimum balance, and so on. "And of course," he concluded, "you'll be holding on to me, so all you really need to keep in mind is, if my velocity starts to make you sweat, just don't let go."
"All right," Fun Ghoul said with a sigh of resignation. "Is that it?"
"Um," Kobra thought about the best way to prepare Fun for eventually riding without holding on to him the whole time. "Try leaning on me for less wind resistance, and press your thighs into mine to keep us stable…" He realized how the last tip could be misinterpreted, and hoped fear would prevent Fun Ghoul from doing the same.
Fun chuckled. "That sounds kinda awkward." He grinned, as apparently not even anxiety could keep his mind out of the gutter.
"Shut up," Kobra snapped. "Do I need to remind you again that we're about to attempt something very dangerous?" He sounded a bit harsher than he'd meant to, but it was necessary to make sure Fun Ghoul wasn't taking their job lightly.
"Sorry. I was only trying to lighten the mood." Fun paled as his fear closed in on him again.
"You didn't." Kobra closed the subject, and, with an attempt to sound more upbeat, said, "Okay, you ready to go?"
"What? Now?" Fun bit his lip in apprehension, his eyes flicking toward the motorbike in fear.
"Yes, now. We don't have all day."
"Just a basic trial run, right?"
"Yeah. Just so you can see what it'll be like. C'mon." Kobra Kid removed his sunglasses and placed them in their protective case that he kept zippered in his jacket. He put on his crash helmet and climbed onto the bike, keeping one foot on the ground for balance.
Fun Ghoul climbed on behind him, wrapping his arms around Kobra's midsection a little tighter than necessary due to his growing fright. Kobra stuck the key in the ignition, but then paused, turned slightly, and lifted his visor. "Oh, Fun Ghoul?"
"Yeah?" Let him have forgotten something, he thought desperately. Anything to stall for time before-
"Don't scream." Kobra turned back with a smirk in his voice, flipped his visor down, and turned the key in a series of fluid, practiced movements. He then flicked up the kickstand and, ignoring Fun's whimper of protest, revved the throttle.
They sped down Route Guano at only about 30 mph, but Fun Ghoul felt as if they were going at about 700. He kept his eyes squeezed shut as the wind whipped past like hands trying to rip him off the bike and throw him into the hot, unforgiving pavement. Don't let me die, Kobra, he thought. I will kill you if you let me die.
He chuckled at the lack of sense in his mind, and inadvertently opened his eyes just a crack. Through the dark visor of his helmet he could see the road flashing by, notice how individual bumps of asphalt blurred into a motion-sickness-inducing streak of dark grey. Various swear words shot across his mind, and he slammed his eyes shut again as a fresh wave of adrenaline pumped through him like liquid fire.
After several deep, calming breaths over the space of several seconds in which he miraculously remained alive, Fun Ghoul tried opening his eyes again, for longer this time. The road flew past in the same sandpapery strip, grey as gun smoke, but this time, Fun looked up. He stared at the sand and desert plants rushing past, before allowing his eyes to slip closed into the safer-seeming darkness.
The third time, he tried looking up ahead. He could see past Kobra's elbow, into the horizon. Fun Ghoul found himself oddly fascinated by the brilliant blue sky, not at all sharp and murderous like the ground. He admired the glint of midmorning sun off the rear-view mirror, the way his visor made the world a few shades darker and more beige, the steady rumble of the bike's engine beneath him. Kobra Kid started to turn the bike around, and any tingles of fear that might've crept through Fun Ghoul's stomach as they leaned sideways were replaced by a sense of security and trust for his friend, and the smooth flexing of his muscles as he brought the bike back to an upright position and cruised back towards the diner.
"So how was it?" Party Poison asked, as Fun Ghoul tried to stretch out the aching in his thighs.
"Great!" he replied. "Except for this horrible pain in my legs."
"It happens when you sit like that for so long," Kobra told him. "You'll get used to it."
"I guess I'd better," Fun said. "We've got more training to do, don't we?"
"We can do more tomorrow. For now, you should get some rest."
"Yeah, take a nap or something," Party agreed. "You look beat."
Fun Ghoul went to curl up in the back bedroom gratefully. His adrenaline rush was wearing off, but he still thought that this was the most fun he'd had in a long time.
Over the next few weeks, Kobra Kid and Fun Ghoul went biking. Fun learned many things during that time, like how to help with turning, how to see through the sweat that trickled into his eyes, and most importantly, how to stay on the vehicle without holding onto Kobra. Once he'd gotten fairly good at that last skill, they practiced having him shoot at targets set up along the side of the road. Fun Ghoul had to admit, once he got past the noise and air resistance, he even enjoyed the wind. It was an exhilarating indicator of how fast they were going, and how dangerous it'd be to crash, which, of course, was something they'd never do, could never do, not with Kobra Kid driving.
As the days went by like the lines on the road, Fun Ghoul found himself almost looking forward to the day the two of them were to ambush the formidable entity known as the Party Bus.
Any Killjoy worth his laser knew about and feared the Party Bus. It was the favored mode of transportation for all Draculoids when they weren't trying to set fire to the Zonerunners' hideouts. After all, why not have huge parties after a long, hard day of killing "vermin?" But the Bus was also a source of extra Dracs should times get tough, and it carried a small arsenal of blaster guns somewhere between the strobe lights and subwoofers. For many Killjoys, the last sound they heard on this Earth was the obnoxious blaring of pop music from its speakers.
"So do we attack at dawn?" Jet Star asked jokingly.
"No, sunset," Party Poison replied with a chuckle. "That's when they'll be least expecting it 'cause the party'll be in full swing."
"Cool," Kobra Kid said.
"Are you guys ready?" Party asked him and Fun Ghoul.
"Totally," Fun said. He was, in fact, supremely confident in this ambush mission. He didn't feel scared at all, just excited.
"So, just to make sure we all know how this is going down, I'll go over the strategy one more time," Party felt like he should be drawing diagrams on a white board to make this more official, but that'd be a waste of time. "First off, me, Jet Star, and Show Pony- " each person nodded in acknowledgement at his name "- will take the Trans-Am. Who wants to drive?"
"Ooh! Me! Me! I wanna drive! Pick me!" Show Pony waved his hand in the air with great enthusiasm.
"Fine," Party said. "You can drive." A fist pump and a cheer from the designated driver met this statement.
"Um, moving on," Party continued. "We'll try to intercept the Bus by coming onto Route Guano from Dogbane Boulevard. If we can, we'll get it to stop, or at least slow down. Meanwhile, Kobra Kid and Fun Ghoul will attack from behind and take out the motorcycle escorts, then try to get inside. If we've stopped the Bus, the three of us will come back you up. Got it?"
Kobra nodded.
"Bring it." Fun Ghoul grinned.
"Oh, and Dr. Death Defying," Party Poison turned to the DJ with an almost apologetic look. "We'll need someone to stay here and guard the Girl, and…"
"Of course," Dr. Death replied before Party could finish. He'd gotten used to staying behind years ago, and he figured he could use the time to work on organizing their band's newly recorded songs. "It was my idea anyway."
"All right," Fun Ghoul said. "So we leave for this tonight, then?"
"Yep," Party Poison replied. "We have about four hours to kill, so…go do whatever." A rather unceremonious end to the meeting, he thought, but his friends wandered off, leaving him alone with his anxiety about the attack.
The Party Bus cruised down the highway, flanked by motorcycles whose headlights added another element to the play of strobe lights and shadows inside. Most of the Exterminators were either drunk or getting there, even though technically their contracts discouraged such behavior. They all tried out "chillariffic" dance moves with varying degrees of success, and at least three got hit in the head by another's flailing limbs. In other words, it was business as usual.
The driver of the Bus was one of the few female Exterminators in this patrol unit, and being allowed to drive only heightened her sense of accomplishment. She had just turned back to the road after yelling to a pair of her coworkers to stop fighting about what was the best Lady Gaga song, because everyone knew it was "Just Dance," and glanced up in time to see a car speeding onto Route Guano right in front of her, taking out the motorbike ridden by someone named Kyle. She let out a yelp of surprise and slammed on the brakes while swerving to the side. In retrospect, she realized she'd done both of those things a little too hard, as the bus actually tipped up on its two right wheels for a few terrifying seconds. The car fishtailed to a stop, but the other Exterminators barely seemed to have noticed anything, as they crowded around a guy she thought was called Johan and encouraged him to chug a large quantity of grape Kool-Aid as quickly as possible. "Aw, crap," she sighed, but her mood shifted quickly from fear and annoyance to a shocked excitement as she realized that, not only was the car familiar, but it- or more specifically, its driver- was what she'd been wanting to see in person for the past six years.
Dressed in black, Fun Ghoul and Kobra Kid raced down the highway like a predatory bird, leaving only deathly silence and a trail of exhaust in their wake. They had spent the afternoon outfitting the motorcycle with mufflers to make it run still more quietly than its intended use as a Draculoid attack vehicle demanded. They approached the Party Bus convoy, and Fun Ghoul swiftly readied both his and Kobra's laser blasters, switching them to "Silent" mode. Kobra turned off the headlights.
They came up behind the two Dracs on rear-guard duty and Fun leaned back, gripping the bike with his knees, let go of Kobra, and took careful, swift aim at the enemy drivers. He dispatched both Dracs in simultaneous flashes of multicolored light that would fortunately go unnoticed by the Dracs in the bus, surrounded as they were by plenty of light already before returning to his original position. Kobra Kid swerved, easily dodging one of the fallen bikes, and maneuvered around to the left side of the bus. Fun Ghoul leaned out sideways and felt Kobra counter his lean just enough to keep the bike tilted slightly. Fun fired his laser twice, hitting the first guard square in the back and taking out the other one soon after. Thankfully, neither one's bike fell under the wheels of the large, purple vehicle that was their true target.
Kobra Kid braked slightly and coasted to the right in preparation for a similar assault on those guards. Suddenly, the headlights of the Trans-Am came into view, accelerating much too fast in an attempt to cut the bus off. The car's taillights appeared as it outdistanced the other drivers, and then were eclipsed when it crossed sharply in front of the Party Bus. As expected, the bus screeched to a near-halt, turning as it did so. Kobra Kid swerved in the opposite direction as the huge vehicle tilted sideways with a groan like a tired whale and crashed back down onto all four wheels with a shuddering thud. The two enemy bikers tried to turn around, but Fun Ghoul shot the farthest one between the shoulder blades. In a move that was as reckless as it was amazing, Kobra drove up alongside the last cyclist, allowing Fun Ghoul the chance to both clock the Drac in the neck with his gun and kick his bike out from under him. As the final guard (And what an effective guard he was, Fun thought sarcastically) fell and skidded several feet down the road, only to get crushed beneath his motorcycle, Kobra Kid applied the brakes before expertly turning his own bike perpendicular to the road and skidding for a few feet. With their remaining momentum negated, Fun Ghoul dismounted and started walking towards the Party Bus while Kobra set up the kickstand, got off, and followed.
All five of the Killjoys tensed, blasters ready, when the driver walked out of the bus. The Drac approached them with its hands up in surrender, and then did something none of them expected: took off its mask. In the neon rainbow of lights from the bus, they could see that it was a female, and that she had long, blonde hair. She smiled at them with undue warmth before calling out, "Stardust!"
Fun Ghoul gaped in surprise, glancing at Party Poison, who looked staggered for a second, but then lowered his gun. The others slowly did the same. Stardust was the Killjoys' code word, meaning "I'm on your side," so that must mean that this Drac was a spy!
The woman lowered her hands and grinned at them. "Hey, Par-tay. How's it goin'?"
The Killjoy in question blinked in confusion behind his multicolored mask. "Um…do I know you?" She did look vaguely familiar…
"Probably not; I tend to stay under the radar," the blonde replied. "I'm posing as a Drac, for some inside information, you know, and you guys are like celebrities in Zone 4; if celebrities had bounties on their heads, of course." She giggled. "They know all about you," she added, and gestured to each Killjoy and proceeded to rattle off things that were frighteningly well-informed. To Fun Ghoul she said, "Why hello, Mr. Obscure Band Reference, resident smoker and bomb-maker. Odd combo." She smirked.
He raised his eyebrows.
She continued. To Jet Star, "You constantly disagree with your friends about the best kind of music, and still compose and play songs on your Gibson SG." Show Pony, "You took your name from the tattoos on your knuckles, and enjoy showing off your roller-skating ability." Kobra Kid, "I don't know about the origin of your name, but I do know that you're bipolar and extremely sensitive about it." As if to verify the statement, Kobra's jaw tightened and he glared from the Bus to the woman and back, as though trying to decide who was most deserving of his wrath. "You also find refried beans disgusting, which is unfortunate as that's about half of what you all eat on a daily basis." She turned back to Party Poison, who looked wary. "See? That's just a little of what the Dracs know."
No one spoke for a few seconds, and then Show Pony announced, "Well, that's kinda freaky. Now please move so we can destroy your bus."
"Wait," Jet Star said, figuring they should at least be polite before blowing things up. "Who are you?"
"To them," she jerked her head in the direction of the raucously dancing coworkers she was deceiving, "I'm Andrea, which isn't even my real name." She chuckled. "But to the Killjoys, I'm DJ Hot Chimp."
"What." Show Pony choked. Everyone stared at him. "Seriously? The Hot Chimp?"
"Yeah." She stared at him as if to say, Do you know of any other people by that name?
"Holy cheese-and-crackers! My friend is gonna be so jealous when I tell him I met you! He's like your biggest fan! His name's Dr. Death Defying; have you heard of him?"
"Yes, I have. As a Drac, I'd view him as quite a threat," Hot Chimp replied, clearly flattered. "He's got a lot of experience in battle, and he's a great strategist, even if he doesn't fight himself. And as a DJ, I've heard his show once or twice, and I kinda like it."
"Um, guys?" Party Poison cut in. "We might wanna do something about this bus full of weapons and enemies sometime soon, like before they notice us."
"Right, right." Hot Chimp said. "Okay, so, first thing you should know is that shooting it is a bad idea. It's- "
"Let me guess," Fun Ghoul interjected, to show her that she wasn't the only one with knowledge around here. "It's armor-plated, with laser-repellant metaphosphate glass on the windows, meaning we'd have to actually get inside to do any damage, especially since shooting it is bound to get the Dracs' attention."
"Precisely."
"Well, just charging in seems a little dangerous," Jet Star pointed out. "I mean, they've got laser rifles and all kinds of deadly things, right?"
"We could always just throw some kind of explosive through the door and then run like hell." Kobra Kid suggested, still affixing the vehicle with a cold stare.
"Why not?" Show Pony agreed. All the Killjoys turned to Fun Ghoul expectantly.
He chuckled, enjoying his reputation as a walking armory, and removed a grenade from the inside pocket of his jacket. "Who's going in?"
"I will," Kobra Kid volunteered, as though it were a painfully obvious question. "Always wanted to use a grenade."
"You know how to use one?" Fun asked. "Just pull this pin out the top and throw it, then run. You'll have four or five seconds to get a safe distance away, so try to get behind the Trans-Am to block shrapnel and whatnot. Oh, and don't get shot."
Kobra smirked. "Okay." He took the grenade and crept around the side of the Bus. The others retreated behind a nearby dune on the side of the road. After about ten seconds, they saw him dash out again and dive behind the car. Nothing happened.
Wait for it, Fun Ghoul thought.
"Well, that was anticlima- " Party Poison was cut off as an explosion ripped through the Party Bus, shattering windows and releasing a cloud of smoke into the air, along with the smell of burned-out light bulbs. Jet Star flinched.
"Whoo!" came a yell from behind the Trans-Am. Kobra jumped up, pumping his fist in the air. "That was the best moment of my life!"
"Yeah, it just came at the expense of fifty other lives, no big deal." Jet Star muttered, closing his eyes. He knew that it was a morally sound action, especially in war, to strike against one's enemies while they weren't expecting it if they would do the same, and these Dracs had done so on numerous occasions. But he still didn't like the feeling that settled into his gut as he surveyed the hollowed-out remains of the adversaries' portable dance floor, and the guards sprawled on the asphalt with their fallen motorbikes, whose headlights pierced the night like bulletholes.
It was decided that Hot Chimp was not going to the diner with the rest; she had matters of her own to attend to back at her hideout and a story of daring escape to falsify to the Dracs. She swiped the least beat-up motorcycle from the ground and sped off into the darkness, taking her half-formed thoughts of regret with her.
Party Poison drove the Trans-Am back, with Show Pony riding shotgun and Jet Star half-asleep in the back seat, trying not to think. Kobra Kid and Fun Ghoul followed their comrades on the same bike they'd used for the attack, but this time Kobra decided to try something new: after a short discussion with Fun, they drove up alongside the car and waved, then popped a wheelie.
It was the scariest, most exciting thing Fun could ever remember doing; he stood up on the back of the cycle, holding onto his friend for dear life. The wind screamed around them and the engine whistled sharply in protest; Party Poison tried to keep his eyes on the road as he stared at them, slack-jawed; and Fun Ghoul laughed as the now-familiar rush of adrenaline shot through him. Kobra brought the cycle back down with a controlled thump, and he laughed, too.
He wasn't usually the type of person to get all sappy, but at that moment Fun Ghoul would've bet anything he owned that these were the best friends he could ever have, and the greatest day he could ask for.
Under a scattering of stars and sentiment, they went home.