Hi guys :D I know a lot of you have been missing MCR, right? This is supposed to be a primarily MCR fic after all xDD well, you'll be seeing a lot more of them from now on, I promise. Enjoy chapter 11! ^_^
CHAPTER 11: DREAMING ON THE GETAWAY MILE
June 09, 2013
An Abandoned Shopping Mall, Battery City, California
11:57 AM
Gerard stared listlessly at the radio, twisting the tuning knob left and right randomly. His mind wasn't on his actions—it was just that he had nothing better to do.
He missed the music. Before, there had at least been tunes, emotion and guitar and bass and words to fill the empty, lazy days at the mall. But that morning Ray had flipped on the radio to find that the normal rock songs that played from the station almost twenty-four-seven had been replaced with pure static obscuring the airwaves. The two had spent their morning trying to fix the device, but eventually Ray had given up on it and gone off to an unknown location in the mall with Frank. Mikey was probably out on the streets, visiting those homeless kids as he often did. Either way, Gerard was alone.
He spun the dial to the right, annoyed, and then twisted it back to the left. He switched to the AM frequency. He twiddled the volume and even replaced the batteries, but no matter what he did, the music refused to come back.
Angrily, Gerard hit the radio and turned away from the device, flopping back onto his mattress. The static buzzed. A moment later, the boy sat up again.
"What was that?" he muttered, scrambling to the radio again. He had sworn, just a moment earlier…
And there it was again: Anti-BL/ind, rebels. The words were barely audible through the static but they were there.
"What the fuck…"
Gerard once again seized hold of the tuning dial, but this time took care to turn it only a fraction in either direction at a time. He focused all of his concentration onto the small gray device.
And suddenly, there was a loud male voice filling the space of the mall's center.
"Gerard!" the boy heard his brother call. "I'm back—"
"Shh!" Gerard cut him off, staring intently at the radio. Mikey walked up behind him, peering down at the older boy lying stretched out across his mattress on the floor of the mall.
You're here with me, Doctor D, the radio spit out. I've got Revolution and Adrenaline here as special guests. Brushed with the police out near the station today—we didn't know they were infiltrating the desert. Keep your eyes peeled, Killjoys.
"What is this?" Mikey murmured incredulously. He sat down cross-legged on the floor next to Gerard, still staring at the device.
"No idea," replied Gerard. "I just found it trying to get the music back."
The broadcast continued, a new voice entering the conversation. Out here in the Mojave, the days are getting hotter and the law is getting stronger. But don't lose hope, rebels. Us Killjoys will keep you supplied with anti-BL/ind propaganda till we get ourselves killed…
Revolution's in a morbid mood today, a third one cut in, laughing.
"Killjoys? Propaganda? Revolution?" Frank blurted out. Gerard and Mikey glanced over their shoulders, surprised, to see Ray and Frank had reappeared from wherever it was they had been exploring.
"We're trying to figure it out ourselves," explained Gerard. "It's all really confusing—I just found it like a minute ago—but it sounds like some kind of anti-Better Living station…"
"Sounds like they're using a code," Ray muttered. "I can't understand half the shit they're saying!"
The radio picked up again, the first voice coming through loud and clear: Stay tuned, tumbleweeds. We'll stay out here in the desert, trying to kick start this rebel movement. Don't forget to spread the word…This is Doctor D, signing off. Killjoys, make some noise!
The voices suddenly cut into static, breaking the four boys out of their reverie. They jolted back as if they had been physically shocked. None of them spoke for a couple minutes.
Then Ray broke the silence. "Kick start the rebel movement? Against BL/ind?"
"Since when was there a rebel movement?" added Mikey.
"And who's Doctor D?" Frank questioned.
"And they all live in the Mojave Desert?" Gerard concluded. "But there's nothing out there…"
"This is absolutely crazy," Mikey muttered. "Who are these people?"
Ray smiled grimly. "The only way to find out is to keep listening."
Doctor D and the Killjoys didn't make a return on the airwaves until eight o'clock that night, even though the boys had left the radio blasting full volume all afternoon just in case anything came on. Ray and Gerard had barely returned from their nightly food-scavenging trip when Frank ran up to them, winded.
"They're back," he exclaimed. He didn't have to say who—all three knew exactly who he was talking about. They hadn't thought about anything else all day.
Hurriedly, the two dropped their scavenged bags of supplies and threw themselves down onto the mattresses in front of the portable radio. Sure enough, one of the voices from earlier was saying, Revolution here, checking in for the night show. Doctor D and Adrenaline just got back from a recon mission—situations have not changed in the city.
"Recon mission?" Ray murmured excitedly. "Sounds like a spy movie."
Killjoys, we're counting on you. There's only so much we can do out here in the desert—with only three people, it's too dangerous to actively recruit. But don't lose hope!
The word recruit sparked something in Gerard's brain, triggering a huge grin to begin spreading across his face. This group of rebels—these 'Killjoys'—were recruiting for an anti-BL/ind group? It was too perfect! This was just what he had been looking for!
His look of sudden excitement did not go unnoticed by his friends. Mikey groaned, sure he knew what was coming next, and Frank perked up excitedly.
"They're recruiting!" Gerard exclaimed, staring at his friends wide-eyed. "They want people to join!"
In the background, Revolution continued Do what you can in the city, and we'll do what we can here in the Mojave. Revolution out—Killjoys, make some noise.
"Gerard, we know what you're going to say…" Ray warned.
"But it's perfect!" The young man's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Think about it. There are already people out there—they've set everything up perfectly! They've obviously got a place set up out there where we can go live…and they're just like us! They hate the government!"
Mikey, Ray and Frank let their friend talk himself out before trying to interrupt him. They knew from experience that he wouldn't be able to shut up until he'd made his point. But as soon as he paused, leaning back on his hands and smiling at the rest of his group, they cut in.
Frank piped up first. "I agree," he stated carefully. Gerard's entire face lit up, and Frank threw a quick grin at him. "This is what we've been protesting for, right? It makes sense, and it seems safer than what we're doing right now…"
"Yeah, same here," Ray nodded. "It's not like we're doing anything important in Battery City. There's no point for anything anymore. It would be like an adventure—we could finally do something with our lives!"
The three then turned to look at Mikey, who hadn't spoken since the Killjoy radio announcement started again. He sat apart from his friends wearing a stoic expression and with his arms crossed.
"It's not worth it," he stated bluntly. "I hate BL/ind as much as you do. But this is dangerous. I mean, we have no idea who Doctor D or Revolution or Adrenaline is! Why should we give up our safety for it?"
He leaned back, looking as if there was no argument, but Gerard stared him down, catching his gaze and refusing to look away. Identical pairs of brown irises met and locked.
"Hayley Williams," Gerard said slowly, dragging the two words out for emphasis.
Mikey's face blanched. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides and then relaxed, his face registering shock and emotion. He turned away from his friends quickly.
"You told me to remind you," his brother said quietly. "You made me swear it."
The boy nodded, his back still turned. "Thanks, Gee," he mumbled.
"Any time."
Mikey stood abruptly and stalked off as he did when angry or thoughtful. Gerard, Frank and Ray were used to it by now, and they knew not to disturb him. But as soon as his brother was out of earshot, Gerard fell back onto his mattress and cheered, throwing a fist into the air and grinning from ear to ear.
"We're going to be Killjoys!" he yelled. "Hear that, Better Living Industries? We're coming for you!"
Ray cracked up, stifling his laughter with one hand, and added "Be afraid, Draculoids! Very afraid!"
"I wonder if we'll get fancy names, too," Frank giggled.
"I wonder where we'll be living!"
"Oh, and if we'll get to do those recon mission thingies Revolution was talking about!"
"I wonder who Revolution is!"
"And Doctor D and Adrenaline!"
The questions continued, slowly increasing in both volume and ridiculousness until the three boys collapsed in a fit of laughter, gasping for air and splayed across Gerard's mattress. Ray's hair landed in Gerard's face, setting off another round of giggles as he complained "Move your fro, Ray, it tickles!"
Eventually, Mikey rejoined them to find his three comrades still in that position, half-asleep. No one asked the youngest what he had been doing. Instead, he shook them awake and asked Ray what he was supposed to do for dinner.
"There's food over there…" Ray waved his hand expansively in the direction of where he and Gerard had dropped the food earlier. "Figure something out, would you? I have zero energy."
"Lazy ass," Mikey teased, poking the curly-haired boy and smirking. "But only cause I'm a good friend."
"Love you too, Way!" Ray called mockingly. Frank extricated himself from the pile of limbs that was his best friend to go and help the younger boy.
Mikey groaned as he tore open the plastic bag. "Nutella, Pringles, stale hamburger buns, frozen spinach and Doctor Pepper? This is the best you can do?"
"Limited resources, remember?" Gerard called back tiredly.
"At least there's food," Ray added.
The mousy-haired boy rolled his eyes, laying out the supplies in front of him. "This is gonna taste like shit, no matter what I do with it," he warned.
"Doesn't it always?"
"Shut up, Gee," his brother complained.
"Just kidding!"
The boys fell asleep on full stomachs that night, the Pringles, Nutella and bread combined into sandwiches that actually didn't taste half-bad and the spinach left untouched. The quality of food was forgotten, though, in favor of the far more important discussion that took place over dinner. It revolved around the mysterious Killjoys and their new role in the rebellion.
Gerard could hardly sleep that night, instead laying awake and staring at the stars through the mall ceiling's domed-glass skylight. The radio broadcasts and his group's consequential discussion kept playing over and over in his mind.
Rebels. Anti-BL/ind. Killjoys. The words, hard and explosive in his thoughts, interwove themselves into his sketchy plans for the future, reinventing all his ideas. He was going to have a new role in society now. He was going to be a rebel fighter. He was going to fight the power!
Never, in his pre-apocalypse life, had he ever imagined his life would turn out this way. Sure, the radio show didn't have a lot to go on, but he knew he was going to be living in the desert with six other men, fighting the new government in a desolate, post-apocalyptic world. It sounded like the premise of one of his beloved comic books.
Unbeknownst to him, none of his friends could sleep, either. All four lay awake in the dark, sure that they were the only one awake, the only one whose mind was running a mile a minute. Ray could barely contain his excitement—the mystery! The adventure! Life at the mall was unbelievably monotonous. Becoming one of these 'Killjoys', whatever they were, would be the complete opposite.
Frank was occupied with thoughts o f logistics, knowing none of the other three would think of these things and deciding that he would have to do it himself. Food, water, transportation and clothing would be the most important—everything except the car was readily available in the mall; hopefully it wouldn't be too hard to find the last item. But as for actually finding the Killjoys? He had no idea.
And as Mikey lay awake in the darkness, his thoughts, too, raced, but not around anything pertaining to his new life. No he thought more about what he would be leaving behind—well, one thing in particular.
Hayley Williams was the best friend he'd ever had, save the three men lying in the mall with him. He visited her nearly every day. He was willing to admit he'd grown attached to the young, redheaded orphan. How could he leave her behind without an explanation?
As morning rose on the four boys, they packed quickly, eager to get this new phase of their lives into action. Ray chattered endlessly and excitedly. Mikey, in total contrast, was silent as he ran one last check of all the mall's stores, making sure they hadn't missed anything remotely useful.
The first words he said all morning were just as they were leaving the building. "I've got to stop somewhere before we go," he told his friends. "It'll be quick, I promise. You guys can come with me."
They knew without asking where Mikey would go. All the same, Ray, Frank and Gerard followed the youngest of the group to the collapsed subway station where Hayley and her small group lived. They stood awkwardly to the side as Mikey embraced the tiny girl, whispering something to her about where they would be. When he finally pulled away, silvery tears were visible in the corners of his eyes.
"I'll miss her," he stated simply as he rejoined the group. Wordlessly, Gerard put an arm around his brother's shoulders, offering silent comfort.
But any bad mood was soon forgotten as they came across a car dealership, jacking the flashiest convertible they could find. While Frank broke into the building and found the keys, Mikey, Gerard and Ray loaded the vehicle full of all the mall's valuables.
It was finally happening, Gerard thought as he took the wheel. The car came to life with a smooth purr as he inserted the key.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered.
And as the red car squealed out of the parking lot in a flash of burning rubber, the four boys let out an overwhelming, ecstatic cheer.
Phase two of their post-apocalyptic lives had finally begun.
"What do we do when we get to the desert?" yelled Ray from the backseat, his curly hair flying in the wind.
"Doctor D mentioned a 'station,'" Gerard reminded him. "Keep your eyes peeled for anything that looks remotely like it, then…"
Frank flipped on the radio, quickly flipping to the exact frequency they had memorized to be the Killjoy station. There was only static right now, but as they'd learned, the announcements were few and far between.
"What are we supposed to do once we find them?" he muttered, spinning the volume dial absently.
"Whatever they tell us to," Gerard answered.
"Because that's such a safe, foolhardy plan…"
"Well, it's the only one we've got unless you can think of anything better," the oldest boy challenged. Frank sighed and watched the city recede into the distance in the rearview mirror, its' broken spires slowly becoming smaller and smaller until they finally faded out of sight.
Gradually, the scenery around the moving car changed from dark, monochrome metals and broken remnants of an old civilization into sandy, dry desert. Mountains loomed in the distance. Small, scrubby trees populated the area far from the road, dark green and prickly.
And to their surprise, it was bursting with color.
It was as if BL/ind had even managed to control the weather in their old home, because the stormy gray skies were rapidly being replaced by brilliant, cloudless blue the farther into the desert they drove. Bright golden sand reflected the plentiful sunlight and green desert plants sprung up along the road. Shocked, the boys realized exactly how devoid of color their old life really had been.
At twelve o'clock exactly, the radio buzzed. Frank grabbed hold of the dial and carefully twisted it until the voice came into focus again.
Welcome back, tumbleweeds. Doctor D has returned.
"Damn straight he has," Mikey mumbled.
Rebellion efforts are going…well, they're not going. Does anyone even know about this station? If you do, Killjoys, then holler, because if we can't hear you, then neither can BL/ind. Things sure are quiet here at the motel…
"Motel!" Ray gasped, pointing to a sign that had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, on the left side of the road. The small blue piece of metal proclaimed Motel 6, 30 miles.
"Perfect!" Gerard's eyes gleamed. He poured on the speed, sending the small vehicle shooting down the dusty desert route at nearly 100 miles per hour.
Almost too quiet. Makes you think something big is going to happen—and soon.
"I guess he's expecting us," Frank joked.
Well, there's not a lot to report—Doctor D's done for today. Killjoys, make some noise.
The radio alert had come at the perfect time. Gerard shot past the Dead Pegasus Gas Station, yelling out "Station!" in reference to an earlier announcement as they passed. Another blue sign pointed him down the same road—in fact, the only road they'd seen since entering the desert.
"Doctor D, here we come," he murmured, his brow furrowed in concentration.
The miles shot by on the odometer: twenty-five to go, now twenty, now ten. The shape of a small, low-slung building began to appear out of the shimmering horizon. At seven miles, a sign began to appear, proclaiming Stay at Motel 6 Tonight! At three, they could see another car poised at the entrance to the parking lot as if preparing to leave.
"Shit," Frank muttered. "Step on it, Gee!"
And with one last burst of speed, Gerard swung the convertible around to block the exit from the motel parking lot, stomping the brake once in position. Tires squealed, sending up a burst of dust from the edge of the road, and the back wheels fishtailed, leaving long streaks of black rubber on the road behind them.
Coolly, as if nothing had happened, he pulled open the door to his car and stepped out. A black-haired man had risen out of the other vehicle, shielding his eyes against the sun.
"Hi, Doctor D," the teenage boy called. "We've been looking for you."