Her head was pounding far more than she was used to. The pain had started out dull twenty or so minutes ago and increased to a sharp stabbing jolt that she couldn't ignore. It was the last thing she wanted to be greeted with upon waking. Frenzy shifted uncomfortably, feeling something soft beneath her body which wasn't what she'd expected considering all that had happened before she'd blacked out. An aching pain rushed through her entirety upon making that very small movement on the something soft.
Every inch of her was burning and tingling with pain and ache. The parching thirst in her throat was unnatural and causing her airways to swell. If she didn't know any better she would've sworn that the pounding in her head was stronger than the one in her heart. Withdrawal. It hadn't been this bad in years. She'd seen to it that she was never without her pills for more than twelve hours since the last time she'd spent a week getting sick without them. Every bit of her was burning and the more she became aware of her body again, the more she began to shake. Sweat was dripping down her forehead, trickling down her neck and over her shoulders.
I can't just lay here. I've got to get up. I've got to get the hell up, take charge, escape and find my fucking stash and save that kid if she's still alive. The only thing Frenzy could think about was the drugs. She wanted the pills, the pain killers, in her system to relieve the ache that seemed worse than it had ever been. Her stomach was sick and the urge to throw up had to be resisted with every bit of strength she had. Frenzy moved her arms up to brush her sweaty hair out of her face and blinked her eyes open. Her arms and legs were both free, but bare. There was no way she could have been a prisoner, no one had tried to tie her down and if they knew anything about her they would've had her shackled and muzzled.
It took all of Frenzy's strength to pull herself into a sitting position. The room was hazy and fuzzy and despite her sweating she felt cold and achy, which were the sure signs of a fever. Half her clothing was missing, but she didn't look too hard for it either. Undergarments were more than she needed for right now and she'd never been the type to care about what others saw outside of the scars on her leg. Someone had taken the time to carefully clean her wounds and wrap them up. The bandages looked fresh, as if they had been changed recently. Who had taken care of her?
Perhaps it had been the person who she'd seen firing the lasers just before she'd fallen unconscious. She could only hope they were a friend and not some sick fuck living in the city who had a vigilante complex. Though grateful for her mysterious savior having taken such good care of her wounds, Frenzy had other plans. Slowly she managed to get each of her limbs to cooperate with her and slipped off of the bed. The room didn't house much else, she observed. There were stacks of books along the wall; books she could tell had been banned by Better Living a long time ago. They were books she'd long desired to read herself. With any luck she'd steal a few later if she got the chance.
First things first. I need a gun. Managing to miraculously keep her balance, Frenzy stood and searched the room. Silently she slipped open the singular night stand on the right side of the bed and in the drawer found just what she was looking for. A dark blue and red ray gun was lying there amongst men's clothing, just waiting for her to take it. Wrapping her fingers around the handle of the gun, she checked to make sure it was charged and functional. Creeping forward, she moved toward the singular door in the room. Her breath was haggard and the more she moved the more she felt the familiar panic of an anxiety attack taking over. I won't let it get the best of me, but whoever is in here with me is sure going to be fucking sorry.
Someone was humming a familiar song in the other room. The main room of the apartment was a small living room, furnished properly even if it looked rather untouched. Frenzy turned to see the door she'd come out of could be easily hidden behind a bookcase and had several locks on it to prevent someone from entering. If someone is trying to keep me prisoner, they are either the most lenient jailer in existence or the stupidest psychopath ever. The image would've been comical if Frenzy hadn't been trying so hard to resist the urge to vomit.
Her leg was in such crippling pain that it threatened to collapse with each step and the right leg she usually relied on to get her going from one place to the other wasn't fairing too well either. Destroyer had bitten her there, that much she remembered. Wouldn't surprise me if that fucker was venomous too and that's why it hurts so goddamn badly. That'd be just my luck.
The carpet beneath her feet was making her feet itchy and uncomfortable as she stepped forward and the crinkle of every fiber of the carpet made her want to hide in the corner and cover her ears to block it out. Frenzy fought the urge to curl up and plead for the drugs her body needed and crept further through what she had now assumed was an apartment, given the size and feel of it.
It sounded like someone was in the kitchen and which also seemed to be the source of something that smelled disgusting. It could've just been food, and it very likely was, but the smell made Frenzy want to vomit. With her left hand, Frenzy covered her nose and mouth to keep from inhaling the scent of whatever was cooking. She held up the gun with her right hand and walked up to the man standing in front of the stove who seemed blissfully unaware of her existence considering he was still humming to himself.
The gap between her and the man at the stove seemed to take forever to cross but she made it undetected and placed the barrel of the gun against his back. She wasn't going to strain her already weak limbs by aiming it as his head when he was much taller than her. Words seemed unnecessary, the gun in his back surely made her point in a way that words wouldn't. Frenzy wasn't sure she could manage enough words to make sense without vomiting anyway, so it seemed best to avoid the situation.
The man at the stove froze, feeling the familiar shape of the barrel of a gun poking at his spine through the cotton of his shirt. He reached quickly and turned off the gas burner on the stove to prevent explosion then spoke calmly. Having hoped the woman would wait to wake up until he'd made some food had been a mistake on his part. Keeping an eye on her had been his one priority for the last few days and naturally she'd wake up the moment he stepped away to eat and take care of himself. He had figured since she hadn't stirred in so long, he could steal twenty minutes to grab something more to eat than stale crackers.
"My name is Death-iNation." The man began, turning his head to the side to keep an eye on the petite woman behind him. He knew she'd want an explanation right away and hoped that by making the first move, he could avoid further hostility. Frenzy could see his handsome profile and blue eyes but kept the gun pointed at his back even though his name immediately got her thinking of the letters she'd read. Is he really the one who was writing those letters to Poison? How fucking convenient.
"I'm a sleeper cell for the Killjoys and I've been working for Better Living for two years." The man continued on in hopes of calming her down. Frenzy pressed the gun harder into his spine and he turned his head away again, realizing eye contact wasn't helping his case. Why is it always much harder to think clearly when there's a gun pressed against your back? "I know you must be scared since you don't know where you are right now. But you have nothing to fear from me, I promise. Those letters you had in your pocket, the ones that were addressed to Party Poison? I wrote them, in case you didn't realize that already when I told you my name." The woman still didn't seem to have a response, nor did she lower the gun.
"Since I don't recognize you as a Killjoy, I'm assuming you stole those letters from Poison or you're relatively new to the crew. What the hell happened out there? I've been trying to make contact for almost a month with no response. Have the Killjoys actually fallen to the Dracs? No… That can't be right. Better Living would've said something about that in the press. Having captured the greatest terrorist threat Battery City has ever seen? Surely they'd celebrate such a thing." Death-iNation's voice was thick with sarcasm and disdain for Better Living.
This man wasn't like the other Killjoys that Frenzy had met in the past week or even prior to that. He was well educated in a way that they weren't, or at least in a way they hadn't shown. Not to say that the Killjoys she'd met were stupid, but they cursed and swore in nearly every sentence and made themselves sound less educated. This man had a very proper way of speaking and she guessed his thirst for knowledge was far greater than any of the Killjoys in the camp.
"Okay, so you clearly don't believe me yet…" Death-iNation became increasingly uncomfortable with the gun pressed into his back and it was clear he was growing impatient and trying to scrape for information to get her to back off. "I went dark when I hadn't heard from Poison in awhile… That's why you haven't seen or heard from me if you are indeed from the Killjoys. I had no choice. I didn't know what was going on with the Killjoys or what was compromised so I've been doing what I can to keep Killjoys still undercover in the City safe while trying to figure out what's going on out in the desert without making myself a target. I've stolen some equipment from Better Living and I'm keeping it hidden in my closet. It's a powerful radio transmitter and receiver. You see, it tells me whenever anyone breaks the perimeter and when Better Living is on the move. They don't know I have it, but it won't be more than another week before they realize it's missing and disable its signal."
"You see, that's how I found you… Miss Fire Frenzy." Death-iNation couldn't help but smile and made a noise of discomfort as Frenzy shoved the barrel of the gun further into his back to show him her irritation. It was almost as if she was asking how the hell he knew her name since she didn't carry an idea on her. "I'm sure you want to know why I know who you are. I'm afraid you've finally been identified to Better Living Industries. Of course, they already knew of you before by a vague description and occupation status but… now they know all about you after your little escapade the other day."
"How'd you find me then?" Frenzy managed to whisper, not wanting to hear anymore about Better Living finally putting her face on a wanted poster. She had expected to be found out when she'd run into that theater without a proper plan but it didn't make her feel any less sour to hear about it actually happening. Her arm was growing tired and her body even weaker, but she kept the gun steady and pressed into his back and planned on doing so until she either passed out or received a response that alleviated her fear and paranoia.
"I got an alert on the radio transmitter that the perimeter was broken down by the theater by three small kids. I knew it had to be trouble since even the street kids know better than to break the perimeter unless they plan on never coming back into the City. Actually, believe it or not, I thought the Killjoys were planning an attack on the theater and sending in scouts since I'd hinted to Poison in my last transmission that the place was being used for experiments on the City's orphans."
"Poison never found your secret message on that flyer." Fire Frenzy was starting to relax her arm she held the gun with but didn't lose her aim. It was clear this man was the man he claimed to be but she wanted the rest of his explanation before she merely put the gun down and let him speak.
"Oh, is that right? I thought for sure he'd find it. He usually scrutinizes every bit of my letters. It used to be a joke that I'd leave invisible messages on the back of flyers. Why didn't he find it? If you don't mind my asking, that is? You still haven't told me what happened to the Killjoys and I'm incredibly curious to know the fate of my comrades in arms."
"You're not done."
"Oh yes, that's right. Sorry, how incredibly rude of me. I hurried to the perimeter and found the hellish chaos you caused in the parking lot with Destroyer and the rest of that nasty project. It seems he's got a taste for your blood now so you're going to have to be on your guard. When I got there he was hell bent on taking you away even if it meant defying his siblings. Luckily, the other two distracted him long enough for me to get a few good smoke grenades off and I was able to get you out of there in the confusion. I managed to snag your weapons from the car and got the hell out of there as quickly as I could. Afterward I got you back here, tended to your wounds, which were healing nicely the last time I'd checked, and well… to tell the truth I thought you weren't going to make it there for awhile since you'd lost so much blood but before I got to you but… Here we are. Though by the way your hands are shaking and how heavy your breathing is right now, I'd guess you're in a great deal of pain and suffering from withdrawal." Death-iNation seemed less nervous the more he continued to talk. In fact, Fire Frenzy thought he was sounding confident that she wasn't going to kill him despite the situation.
"How the hell did you come to that conclusion?"
"I found the pills in your pocket, miss. I saw the twitching you did in your sleep and realized that you must have been addicted to them. Trust me, living here in Battery City I've seen more addicts roaming the streets than I can count, so recognizing them becomes habitual after awhile." When the woman behind him didn't respond he continued on with his explanation, sensing her addiction was something she wasn't willing to discuss. "You've been asleep for three days. Your wounds are healing up nicely, minus that nasty burn on your leg. It seems to be infected, but I don't have the antibiotics for it here. You shouldn't let it go for too much longer or you might risk losing your leg." Frenzy finally put down the gun hearing this from Death-iNation. The man was clearly smarter than she'd expected and deserved, if nothing else, her tolerance. Death-iNation turned to face the woman who was nearly a foot shorter than him and smiled just enough to be reassuring. "I'm guessing you would like some clothing and your drugs."
"You're a smart man." Frenzy turned away from him and limped through the kitchen and into the living area where she sat down on the couch. Holding her head in her hands she concentrated on the stinging pain of the air going into her lungs. Every breath was like torture. If he didn't have my pills I don't know what I'd do. My heart feels like it's in overdrive. Maybe I'd have a heart attack and drop dead. Shapes formed behind the darkness of her eyelids, yelling in agony, contorting in pain. Frenzy snapped her eyes open, unable to bear seeing the faces of the faces of the children who'd died in the theater so soon. She'd have nightmares about them for months, she was sure.
Death-iNation moved through his house and grabbed Frenzy's dirty clothing and placed them in a pile in front of her on the coffee table along with her flamethrower, her ray gun, a glass of water and her bag of pills. Frenzy quickly reached for the pills and swallowed one, then downed the entire glass of water in one go. She didn't realize how dehydrated she had been until the liquid had hit her tongue. Death-iNation watched her intently and Frenzy froze and put down the glass after a moment, after becoming aware of his staring. Carefully she slipped back into her clothing. If he had more to say to her then she was going to insist he let her put her clothing on before getting down to business. With any luck, the pills will kick in soon and I can assess the real damage done to me.
"Now… if perhaps you could answer some of my questions since you've clearly decided you aren't going to kill me…" Death-iNation sat down in a wooden chair across from the couch. "What happened to the Killjoys? Is everyone alive and well? Why isn't anyone receiving my transmissions? There are fail safe scenarios in place for situations where the Killjoys fail and none of them have been followed. Most important of all these: would you be willing to help me get back to the eastern camp since it seems neither one of us are welcome in this place any longer?"
"I'll help you but only on one condition." Frenzy thought about her answer carefully. I don't need another distraction from my work. "You have to help me out first."
"That's a deal, I think, that I can live with."
Party Poison had kept the search for Disco Bitch going for a couple of days with Tiger Beatdown and they'd found nothing; not even a trace of the woman or Black Cherrybomb for that matter. They'd searched the third zone along with the unpopulated half of the second zone since Tiger had suggested they start searching toward the City first since he and Alpaca had gone throughout most of the fourth and fifth zone the days prior. Phantom kept in communication with the two as they traveled, checking in every few hours with code words to make sure that whatever fate had befallen Black Cherrybomb and Disco Bitch hadn't befallen the leaders of the Killjoys during their search.
They scoured the fourth zone on the third day. Poison and Tiger had agreed, after a lot of arguing, to give up the search at nightfall and get back to the camp to deal with the threat of the Dracs if they hadn't found anyone by then. Tiger Beatdown didn't want to give up on Disco or Cherrybomb, but mostly Disco. Unfortunately, he couldn't abandon his post as leader of the western Killjoys simply because the woman he was involved with had disappeared. He had a responsibility to the men and women in the western zone who were likely trapped with the Dracs. With any luck, by the time they'd gotten back, Phoenix Fury would have heard back from one of his contacts and if he hadn't, would have come up with a plan of attack to try and take the western camp back.
Poison had a thousand things on his mind and though the search for Disco Bitch had distracted him from some of them there were a few nagging thoughts he couldn't seem to get rid of despite countless hours spent trying. The hours in his car seemed to trudge on endlessly. They stopped at the last gas station in the fourth zone and then headed toward the fifth zone to look for their friends.
While Poison leaned lazily against his car, cleaning the grossness from beneath his nails absentmindedly, waiting for the gas to pump into his tank he heard a crackling sound not too far from where they were stopped. Nearly slipping from his spot against the car and onto the ground, he jumped to attention and looked up in the sky for the source.
"What? What is it?" Tiger Beatdown, who had been resting his tired eyes in the passenger seat of the car jumped to attention at the sound of Poison nearly falling flat on his face.
"Look!" Poison pointed to the north at the red sparks of a flare fizzling down from the sky. Someone had set it off to get their attention. The only person he could think of that would do such a thing would be Black Cherrybomb. Why had he waited so long to set off the flare if there had been trouble? Maybe he'd finally found Disco Bitch? Perhaps someone else had found him and used his flare to draw attention and was setting up an attack.
"…Cherrybomb."
"Maybe." Poison added in a suspicious voice. Tiger Beatdown grimaced, knowing exactly what his friend was thinking because he'd had the same thoughts. "We have to at least check."
"It could be dangerous."
"Yeah, well I'm not running, are you?" Poison didn't bother opening the front door of his car and merely slid in through the window, a habit he'd gotten used to over the years.
"Neither am I." Tiger half smiled then returned to the grimace he'd adjusted to since Disco Bitch had gone missing. Maybe Cherrybomb found her. God I hope he found her. Poison slipped the car into gear and drove away from the gas station. Flooring it was an understatement for the way he was pressing the accelerator down. He'd taken to speeding to get out his frustrations over the last few days and it seemed to have worked pretty damn well.
"What is that?" Poison narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the dust he'd kicked up with the tires that was blowing in front of the car. There was clearly something dark in color lying in the middle of the sand. As they got closer, Tiger leaned out the window and yelled ahead of him.
"Hey! Cherrybomb!" They'd both guessed it had been him by the size and shape of the mass and were relieved to find that it wasn't a Drac ambush waiting to happen. Though, if anyone had tried to attack me when I was driving that fast, I could've just run them the hell over. That thought comforted Party Poison slightly as he slammed on the brakes and pulled up next to where Black Cherrybomb was sitting in the dirt, looking worse for wear. As the dust cleared, the two leaders of the Killjoys got out of the car and walked over to the man who made no effort to meet them. He was coughing into his arm from the dust that had been kicked up. "Oh shit!" Tiger saw the blood dripping down Cherrybomb's face and ran faster toward the man. He leaned down and touched carefully at the source of the dried blood on the man's head. "What happened?"
"You're not going to want to hear it." Cherrybomb grumbled, pulling away from Tiger's touch on his sore forehead. "Ugh I feel sick…" The man was unsteady and barely sitting up properly.
"Help me get him up… he's dehydrated. Why didn't you drink your damn water? I thought you were supposed to be good at this." Poison walked to his side and urged the shorter man's arm around his shoulder. Tiger got on his other side and helped Cherrybomb to a standing position. Cherrybomb could barely keep himself standing upright and his eyes didn't seem to want to stay open as they kept drifting closed every few moments.
"Couldn't… was unconscious for a long fucking time." Cherrybomb had to choke out each word. "Need water…" Tiger and Poison moved as quickly as they could with this man over their shoulders and helped him get into the backseat of the Trans Am. Cherrybomb laid on his back, relieved to be in the shade provided by the car. Tiger walked around the other side of the car after Poison got into the driver's seat and offered Cherrybomb the remainder of his canteen. Weakly, the injured man drank the little bit of water in the metallic container.
"Why were you unconscious?" Poison put the car into gear after he was sure Tiger Beatdown was safely inside. It wasn't smart to linger in that area if Cherrybomb had been attacked, no matter who the attacker had been. "Well, obviously besides the giant gaping wound on your head. What caused it is the proper question I guess."
"I found Disco Bitch." Cherrybomb coughed. The water helped his sore throat, but it still felt strange talking after having been quiet for so damn long.
"What?" Tiger looked in awe. If he found her then where the hell is she? How could he have lost her? Why wasn't she with him? Was she okay? Had he buried her dead?
"Yeah, she was face down in the sand… Can't tell you how long ago it was since I was out of it for awhile. But I found her that first night that I'd been searching. I was planning on bringing her back that morning."
"Two days ago, just so you know." Poison nodded his head resolutely but kept his eyes on the road. "You found Disco, but she's not with you…"
"Let me continue." Cherrybomb was exhausted, but knew the time for rest would come after he'd gotten back to camp. "She was worse for wear when I found her. Clearly she was dehydrated but she was having a tough time breathing and… had needle marks all along her skin. I'd never seen anything like it before and I've dealt with a lot of fucking Dracs."
"What? She'd… Do you think it was drugs?" Tiger panicked. He'd known that Disco Bitch had been a serious alcoholic but she'd never mentioned anything about drug abuse before. Looking to Party Poison for answers, Tiger hoped he didn't have to ask.
"No, no that's not like Disco Bitch. She was always against the drugs." Poison knew what Tiger was thinking and knew it couldn't be that. In fact, he had a much worse feeling about what had happened to Disco Bitch. "Experiments. Right?"
"Yeah… She said she'd found something in the desert." Cherrybomb was struggling to remember the woman's words. All he could seem to clearly remember was the look in her eyes when she'd started accusing him of laughing at her. Vividly, he could hear her voice shift as if she had been possessed by something. Heart pounding, he tried not to recall the blow to the head, but the pounding he felt in that place now was reminder enough.
"Did she say what she found?" Tiger Beatdown tried to urge the words from the man in the cat suit lying in the back seat. As concerned as he was for Cherrybomb, the fact that Disco was no longer with him worried him far more severely. What has Better Living Industries done to you?
"She found a door. Some kind of underground facility where they kept her… Called A-WEB? That's what she said at least. I tried to ask her more about it and she…" Cherrybomb drifted off, his eyes darting to Tiger Beatdown then over to Poison, as though he didn't want to upset Tiger by telling him what followed.
"What did she do when you asked her?" Poison cleared his throat, noticing that Tiger was staring and awaiting the bad news. I can guess where it went from here, but I want to hear it from him.
"She got pissed off… Holding her head like she couldn't stand to hear what I was asking of her when I was trying to be as nice as I could be. I mean… I tried to console her then she fucking accused me of laughing at her. I told her I hadn't laughed at all, because I hadn't, and… she just flipped out at me. I've never seen her like that before. I've never seen anyone like that before actually. She lunged at me and beat me in the head with a fucking rock until I blacked out." Cherrybomb pointed to the wound on his head, blinking a few times as if to make sure his eyes still worked. Drawing attention to the wound seemed to worsen the throbbing in his head.
"What? No! Disco wouldn't attack you, that's ridiculous. You were trying to help her, she had no reason to!" Tiger objected quickly, but didn't believe his own objections.
"I'm just telling you what happened. I didn't understand why she did it either. But that's not the end of the story. I'll confess, I blacked out for a few seconds but I guess part of me knew that I had to get it together and see what her issue was. There was no way I could just let her run off like that." Cherrybomb stared at his hands, trying to recall the blurry vision he got a glimpse of before he couldn't fight the pain in his head any longer and had been forced into unconsciousness.
"What did you see after that?" Poison kept his eyes on the road but his mind was reeling with the new information. What had Disco Bitch found out in the desert? Where had she found it? It had to have been in the fourth or fifth zones, judging by the direction that Korse had been heading in and of course where they'd found Cherrybomb. He'd make a point to ask if she mentioned it after Black Cherrybomb had told his story.
"Korse. I saw Korse." Cherrybomb furrowed his brow at the memory. "And some big fucking…spider. I know it sounds crazy but it was… fogged up from my fucking head wound. It looked like a spider dragging Disco along through the sand. I could see Korse should fine, so I don't think I'm making the spider part up."
"What?" Tiger and Poison said in unison. The news of Korse hadn't surprised Party Poison in the least with his presence there, but this spider thing he'd only heard mentions of from Death-iNation.
"I told you it was crazy."
"You bumped your head, maybe that's why you saw that?" Tiger suggested, having a hard time taking in the entire story without grabbing the wheel of the car and forcing Party Poison to turn back around in search of this mysterious door Disco had mentioned.
"Look, Tiger, I may have hit my head but I somehow don't think my hallucinations would've formed a fucking giant spider. It's too fucking bizarre to be fake." Cherrybomb closed his eyes and relaxed in the back seat, as much as one with a head wound could relax in a seat that wasn't long enough for one to lie flat properly on.
"So, a giant spider and Korse dragged Disco away in some kind of fit of lunacy?" Party Poison said as seriously as he could manage the ludicrous statement. "I have some letters from Death-iNation… He warned me about something called the Widow but I didn't take it too seriously. I thought it had something to do with that IOD project in the City."
"Well, maybe it's a different project entirely." Cherrybomb suggested, realizing that Tiger was stuck in some kind of silent reverie.
"I want to give that letter a second look, see if I'm missing something. Maybe there's a hidden message I didn't notice since I didn't understand the point of the flyer to begin with." Poison contemplated, speeding toward the third zone.
"We should look for this facility in the outer zones." Tiger suggested, deciding to ignore what they had been saying in regards to the letters. "We should turn around and investigate."
"Yeah, smart idea. Let's go after Korse and a big fucking spider… just us. Oh, and one of us has a pretty nasty head wound so that'll help. No, Tiger. We're not going to wander aimlessly around the zones looking for this facility. I'm doing this the right way. I have those letters from Death-iNation so maybe he hid the location of this facility on the flyer he sent me. Then we'll go from there. I can't send more people into danger. Plus, even if it was just Korse on his own, the three of us don't stand a fucking chance and you know it." Poison snapped at him. Tiger went to object but Poison continued. "No, Tiger. I get it. You have feelings for her, well she's been my friend for fucking years but you've got a duty to the Killjoys and a responsibility. We will go after her but we aren't going to run in there without a fucking plan."
"What if she doesn't have the time it takes for us to make a plan?" Tiger gritted his teeth and spoke without looking back at Poison. I hate that he's right.
"It's still better than us running into the desert after her and getting our asses handed to us because we didn't fucking think before we acted. If the tables were turned Tiger, you'd be talking some sense into me too and you know it."
"No, I'd tell you to follow your heart for once, instead of being a dick."
"Well, if you're following your heart without the help of your head all the damn time maybe we need to reconsider if you're really fucking fit to lead the western Killjoys anymore. Agent Alpaca was right. You're mind is fucking clouded over by this relationship with Disco and I will not have it jeopardizing anyone's life. That's including yours."
"If I choose to go after her, then you can't stop me. I'll quit if I have to."
"You're right. I can't stop you. But you will not be taking any of my men. If you stick around for a fucking day or two and let me do this the right way then I'll send you out there with a fucking army to save her okay?" Tiger didn't respond this time to Poison's commanding. They hadn't fought like that before and Tiger had been surprised that Poison had taken the reins like that so quickly. Maybe he's right. I'm emotionally compromised. Perhaps I should step down and let Agent Alpaca do my job? Would Poison even allow that?
"Tiger, man, you just need to think about it for an hour or so. You might not want to act so rashly after you've given it some clear thought. I know you adore this woman, I can tell, but you're not thinking it through." Trying to ease the tension in the car, Cherrybomb broke the silence that followed the argument.
"You're right."
"Let's just hope that Phantom and Cutlass got something from the Dracs they brought with them back to camp. We'll have a whole new set of questions for them to ask when we get there." Poison shifted gears on the Trans Am and sped toward the camp, eager to get back to work.
Crashing to the floor, the chair with the Drac tied to it made a sickening metallic sound followed by the sound of bone smacking on concrete as the prisoner's skull bounced against the floor. Jet-Star winced and grabbed Captain Phantom's arm to stop her from climbing over the Drac to teach him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget.
"Let me go Jet!" Phantom tried to shove him off, determined to make one of those assholes suffer. After they humiliated me and my crew, they deserve far worse. Damn Poison not letting me kill them.
"You can't kill him, not yet!" Jet-Star tightened his grip on her arm threateningly and whispered to her. She'd always been a tough woman to keep control of, but he knew how important it was to get this information from the Dracs.
"Let the one-eyed bitch go, maybe I'll help her get rid of the other eye." The Drac spat blood on the floor as far toward the two as he could, a grin spread across his face.
"I should rip out your eye you fucker!" Cutlass kicked the Drac in the ribs but it was only received with a groan followed by a laugh from the man on the ground. Cutlass had always been defensive of his sister, plus he was just as annoyed with the Dracs.
"He's not going to say anything!" Phantom argued after having managed to calm herself down. Interrogating the Dracs had been harder than she had anticipated. She'd expected to be able to scare them into talking but it hadn't gone easily. It'd been days since they'd begun the process and all they'd gotten in return was cursing, spitting, and violent outbursts. All she found herself wanting to do was kill the fuckers who had taken her eye in a battle a few years prior and who had killed her parents so long ago.
"Not if you keep kicking him in the ribs! He won't be able to talk at all!" Jet-Star scolded and walked over to the Drac on the floor. "Bite me and I'll let her kill you, got it? I've seen you gnash your teeth at people, don't fucking bother." He lifted the back of the chair, pushing the pale, beaten man back into an upright position. Careful to stay out of reach of being bitten, Jet-Star was surprised when the Drac hadn't even made an attempt to. Maybe he's actually starting to listen to me. It took long enough. "Look, you were sent out here to infiltrate the Killjoys then you were sent after these two here. We know that already. Unfortunately for you, they're a lot tougher than you anticipated. If you tell us what your superiors told you the purpose of your infiltration was then we can talk about getting you something to eat and some water."
"Jet! Are you kidding me? How about he tells us or I'll cut each of his fucking fingers off until he bleeds to death! They wouldn't have this kind of pity for us, they never have! Dracs murder without caution! If he hadn't been under orders from Phoenix Fury then we would've been dead the moment they saw us!" Phantom spat, still bitter that Party Poison had let Phoenix Fury out of prison as well. I wouldn't mind having a few minutes alone with that asshole. "I get it, we have to be better than those fuckers at Better Living or what's the point? We can't just kill them but if anyone deserved it… Oh, it'd be these two."
"Maybe you should calm down a little." Cutlass whispered to his sister, his back to the Drac. "Jet-Star knows what he's doing here. You heard all that shit Poison said earlier… We need to get information from him so he can plan our next move. Those last Dracs killed themselves, and now we've got nothing without these guys talking."
"What if we're just wasting our time?" Phantom glanced back at the Drac who flashed his bloody smile at her. Phantom flipped him the middle finger then continued talking to her brother. "We could be making a plan right now instead of trying to talk to someone who doesn't want to talk to us."
"And what if we don't try at all and these guys actually have some information we could use?" Cutlass put a reassuring hand on his sister's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "We have to at least try."
"I don't like when you're right, just so we're clear." Phantom turned around to face the Drac again.
"Now, are you going to talk to us yet? Or should I let Phantom try to talk to you again. You know how she just loves to talk to you." Jet-Star knelt down in front of the Drac who stared at him, contemplating his offer. It hadn't been the first time they'd asked him flat out to talk to them, but it had been the first it looked like he was thinking about it. After a moment of no response, Jet-Star hung his head and exhaled in disappointment.
Getting up from his spot on the floor, he turned to face Phantom and Cutlass who looked eager to have their way with the Drac. Jet-Star couldn't blame them. He didn't want to let him live either, not after seeing what had happened to Kobra Kid, not after the numerous members he'd treated from injuries caused by these Dracs in the last week. Jet-Star had to admit that the interrogations were starting to feel hopeless and pointless. Giving the order to execute them wasn't his job though, and he wasn't going to give it.
"What should we do with him Jet?" Phantom seemed to have calmed down enough to talk rationally. She hadn't had a proper amount of rest since the Dracs had taken her and her crew captive and the last twenty four hours of interrogating had worn her nerves thin. It was so easy to slip into a rage around the Dracs for her to begin with, the circumstances only made it easier. If Cutlass and Jet-Star hadn't stopped her, she likely would've killed him without any mercy in the first hour.
"It's been hours. He's clearly not talking to us." Jet-Star straightened his back and headed toward the door of the cell, unsure of what else he could do. "We'll give him a few hours by himself. Let him think about my offer in the darkness." Opening the door, Jet-Star held it open for his comrades to leave.
"We weren't trying to bring down the Killjoys from the inside. You have it all wrong." The Drac was barely audible, voice trembling, as though afraid of the repercussions that talking would bring. He was afraid of being beaten again, afraid of dying as most of the Dracs were after a few days away from the drugs. "Better Living knows you're smarter than that. They knew you'd figure out what was going on it was only a matter of time. We were told to distract you for as long as we could. Those were our orders."
Jet-star, Captain Phantom and Commander Cutlass exchanged glances before turning to face the Drac. They hadn't expected any sort of response from the Drac, even if they had come back a few hours later. Perhaps the offer of food and kindness had been what had sent him over the edge, but Jet-Star was guessing it was more fear of being killed by Captain Phantom that was driving him.
It was possible the Drac could be lying about what they were assigned to do, but all three of them had a feeling he was being honest. Jet-Star had thought the whole thing was a distraction to begin with so confirmation of such hadn't surprised him.
"Distract from what? Why would Better Living feel like they need to distract us? They do everything in secret anyway so it's not like this would change much." Cutlass had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Unless whatever Better Living is doing couldn't be done inside or underground.
"We weren't told what they were going to do, just that we had to cause enough chaos to keep you chasing your tails for as long as possible. They were hoping for a few more weeks. You were underestimated." The Drac hung his head in shame. He'd betrayed his cause and essentially thrown his life away. Dracs who talked to the Killjoys were killed and made examples of by Better Living Industries. Even if he turned and chose to join the Killjoys, it'd be likely that he wouldn't be trusted by them either.
The group stared at the Dracs. Jet-Star had more questions for him, but he had made a promise. If he talked, he'd get him some food and he was a man of his word. Captain Phantom walked toward the Drac to continue with her questions. Curiosity and disgust made her want to know why they had gone out of their way to humiliate her and her crew. If he was finally spilling his guts then she was going to finally get her say in things. Jet-Star grabbed her arm before she had the chance to continue on with any questions. The look on her face meant trouble and Jet-Star wanted to keep their Drac willing to talk for as long as possible.
"I promised him food. Let's go get him some. I can't leave you in here with him alone." Jet-Star nodded toward the hallway. Phantom and Cutlass reluctantly left the room. They couldn't expect to keep interrogating the Drac if Jet-Star didn't keep his end of the bargain. Both of them knew they couldn't be left alone with the prisoner so they opt to leave the room without arguing. "I'll send someone with a plate of food for you as soon as I can. Thank you for answering my questions. I know you don't want to hear it, but you did the right thing." The Drac didn't respond to his gratitude, just stared at the floor of his cell.
"He talked! I didn't expect him to talk! Jet-Star you're awesome. More awesome than I remember you being actually." Commander Cutlass nudged the man with the very messy hair. As much as he wanted to inflict pain upon the Drac, the information they gathered was more useful than the abuse would've been.
"I think he has a lot more to say to us, we're just not asking the right questions yet. We should ask who helped them infiltrate the Killjoys. I don't know if Poison told you, but he thinks we have a leak, we just haven't been able to figure out who it is yet." Jet-Star led them from the prison and walked toward the front of the camp. "We need to get him some food. If we can get him to open up to us, there may be hope for his friend as well."
"Jet-Star!" Cosmic Karma came running from the front of the camp and stopped, out of breath in front of him, knees bent and hunched forward. The group stopped walking and stared at her in alarm. It was never a good thing when a Killjoy came running out of breath through the camp.
"What is it, Karma? Is everything alright?" Jet-Star responded, not bothering to continue thinking about the previous conversation. I swear, if something happened to Kobra Kid while I was with those Dracs I might never forgive myself.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but Poison's back and he needs your help! They found Cherrybomb but he's hurt!" Karma nodded toward the direction she'd come from, catching her breath.
"Who the hell is Cherrybomb?" Captain Phantom made a face at the name.
"An ex-Killjoy. He's helped us out quite a bit in the last week. He helped break some of us out when the rebels were holding us captive." Cosmic Karma answered for Jet-Star.
"Why do I get the feeling people are running low on name ideas?" Phantom mumbled. "There should be an approval process of some sort. Well, what are we waiting for then? Let's go help this Cherrybomb." The group hurried to the front of the camp where Poison had driven his car inside and parked between the guard towers. Tiger Beatdown and Party Poison were doing their best to maneuver the injured man out of the car, who was complaining quite loudly that he could walk on his own.
"You have been unconscious for days, you shouldn't be walking without help!" Tiger Beatdown objected, stumbling in the dirt as he tugged on Cherrybomb's shoulders in an attempt to drag him out of the car.
"Let him walk guys, you look ridiculous." Jet-Star couldn't help but laugh at the comical scene in front of him. Poison was half in the back seat of the car trying to support the short man's legs while Tiger was struggling with his shoulders and nearly stumbling over himself in the dirt.
"I told you to let me walk! I hit my head, not my legs!" Cherrybomb grumbled as Tiger helped shove him back into the car so he wouldn't fall backwards into the dirt. After a moment he emerged on his own, limping but otherwise managing to keep his balance. Party Poison hurried over to Jet-Star and the group following behind him.
"Any luck with the Dracs?"
"Actually, yes." Phantom folded her arms across her chest. She didn't want to admit it, but waiting them out had actually worked. "Jet-Star got one of them to talk just a few moments ago. The other seems like a lost cause to me but then again I thought this guy was too. Really, I was ready to blow the guy's brains in hours ago but Jet made us hold out. He told us that they were assigned to infiltrate the camps as a distraction, not to try and split the Killjoys apart. Apparently, Better Living knows that we're too smart to fall for that."
"Well, it's some kind of progress that he told us anything at all but I already fucking knew that they were trying to distract us from something. Better Living is up to something out in the outer zones and not to mention that fucking IOD project. They have something much bigger planned for us, something that could potentially wipe us out. I just don't know what it is yet." Poison contemplated the next course of action. "Ask him what he knows about a spider. Then ask him who infiltrated the Killjoys. I want to know the name of that squealer and show them what we do to people who fucking betray us." Poison made a punching motion with his fist.
"Poison, I need to get him into the infirmary." Jet-Star interrupted the conversation, now half supporting Black Cherrybomb. "He's got a concussion and I need to make sure he's not bleeding into his brain… That'd be really fucking bad and I'm not medically equipped to handle it right now."
"Surely wouldn't help my game very much either, would it?" Cherrybomb chuckled.
"Well, clearly he can't be that hurt he's still making sex jokes. You do what you need to do to get him back into shape, Jet-Star. Cosmic Karma, you take his place with Captain Phantom and Commander Cutlass. Make sure they don't get carried away with the beating and the guns. I know how they love to get carried away with the beating and the guns." Poison reiterated.
"Oh, and bring the Drac something to eat and some water, I promised him some if he talked." Jet-Star yelled as he walked away without looking back at them. Cherrybomb was leaning heavier on him by the moment.
"Yeah, do that too. You've got to keep your promises, sadly, especially if you want that fucker to talk more. I might have some more leads for you. If I come up with more questions to ask, I'll come and join you too. Honestly, I think it'd make a huge impact if I came in to join you but there are some things I've got to figure out before I can help. Call me right away if you figure something out, I'll be at home looking through my records." Poison started to walk away, eager to look at the letters he'd received from Death-iNation.
"Poison, what about Disco Bitch? Did you find her?" Commander Cutlass asked before he could walk away. They'd been well acquainted with the assassin, at least enough to be concerned that she was missing for so long.
"It looks like Better Living's got her." Poison turned back to look at the two for a moment. There was little else he could say to reassure them.
"Well fuck." Phantom grimaced, knowing that Disco was more than likely dead if she'd been gone for this long. As much as she wanted details about what Party Poison knew, she could tell he had something important to do. I'll ask later.
"I know. I'm working on it." Poison turned away again and started back toward his home. There had to be something hidden on the flyer Death-iNation had sent him. He'd been trying to send him a message and at the time, Poison hadn't understood it but now the pieces were falling into place. It was just a matter of putting them in the right place and completing the whole picture before it was too late.