So, three cheers for early updates ^^
lol no actually it's cause I'm gonna be awol this weekend so rather than leave the update until Monday I decided to put it up tonight...lucky you guys \o/
(also if you wanna do me a huge fucking favor...leave a review telling me what your favorite part of this so far has been-I need to share a five-page excerpt with my CW class and I can't decide which cause I'm a lazy, indecisive motherfucker XD)
CHAPTER 23: I WANT TO BE IN THE ENERGY NOT WITH THE ENEMY
October 31, 2013
The Abandoned Warehouse Killjoy Headquarters, Zone 4, California
4:08 PM
"Shh, she's waking up!"
Amy groaned. Her eyelids fluttered open, and her vision slowly came into focus.
She suddenly wished it hadn't.
Five faces stared down at her with undisguised curiosity and suspicion. She recognized one of them immediately as the boy that had found her in the desert. He stood next to a shorter boy near her feet.
"Wh…where am I?" she yawned, blinking up at them innocently.
The man nearest her head spoke first. He had short, messy raven-black hair and piercing hazel green eyes.
"Do you remember anything?" he questioned, not unkindly.
Amy closed her eyes and thought. She remembered her and Chester leaving Adie's and journeying into the desert. She remembered some great disaster…acid rain, that was it. She remembered pain and cold. She remembered the boy—Gerard, did he say his name was?—leaning over her, asking questions.
And then her memories became disjointed fragments, small snippets of conversation. Is that a girl? Get Billie. Go, Frank, now! She must be hypothermic. Get blankets. Is she pregnant? Jesus, she's gorgeous.
And then she realized that somehow, their conversation from only moments ago had seeped into her subconscious. She knows our names. She'll see our faces. She could be working for BL/ind. Potential security threat. Two choices.
She stays, or we'll have to kill her.
The young girl shook her head and forced her eyes open again, glancing around wildly. "Where's Chester?" she exclaimed. "Where is he?"
"We can't tell you," the green-eyed man told her.
"But why—"
But a loud noise outside the room broke her words off. The door to the room banged open violently, and a frantic Chester stood in the doorway, chest heaving.
"Ames," he breathed, starting towards her. "You're fine."
"Don't move!" another voice rang out, and two teenage boys came bursting through the entryway. They both held futuristic-looking guns, and the barrels were trained on Chester. He stopped his progress immediately.
"We tried to stop him, Doc, but he overpowered Mi—I mean, Angel and Wolf," the taller, curly-haired one panted. He stepped forward tentatively, seizing Chester's upper arm.
Chester growled angrily. "Did they hurt you, Amy?"
"No, I'm fine," she murmured, heaving herself up. She realized she was in a bed, and it was quite comfortable, piled high with pillows and blankets.
"The baby—"
"It's fine too," she assured him, her hands resting lightly on her stomach. Instinctively, she knew it was true. She would somehow know if her baby was hurt—it was a bond, a link between her and the little being in her stomach.
He struggled against the tall teenager's restraining hands once again, and the other stepped forward to aid his friend, grabbing Chester's other arm tightly. Chester shot a murderous look at the scrawny, mousy-haired boy and curled his hands into fists.
"Just let him go!" Amy cried out, reaching a hand towards her boyfriend.
The green-eyed man glanced between Amy and Chester, seemingly making a decision, before announcing "Jet, Kobra, you can let him go."
The teenage boys frowned but relinquished their grip on Chester's upper arms. As soon as he was free, he rushed toward Amy, throwing himself onto his knees next to her bed. He seized her hands tightly.
"Chester, what happened?" Amy swallowed weakly and stared at him, eyes full of questions.
"I have no idea," he murmured. "I woke up in a room down the hall ten minutes ago and they wouldn't tell me anything. There were five people in my room, too, and they've all got weird code names they call each other by when I'm around. They wouldn't let me see you. I had to knock one of them out to get here."
"Chaz, we can't make them mad," she protested quietly. She glanced around the room before leaning towards him, lowering her voice carefully. "They were talking about us earlier," she whispered. "They thought I couldn't hear. They were saying that either we'll have to stay here with them or they'll kill us."
Chester reeled back, shocked. He stared at Amy with wide eyes.
"They think we'll tell BL/ind," she continued.
They were suddenly aware of the eyes of every person in the room focused on them. The seven men made no secret of their suspicion towards the couple by the bed. Their eyes narrowed, and the green-eyed man stepped forward, frowning.
"We'll have to question you," he informed them. "Separately."
Chester didn't relinquish his hold on Amy's hand. "I'm not leaving her," he growled.
Something on the periphery of Amy's vision shifted, and she flicked her eyes toward the door. Jet and Kobra had raised their guns again. The blue and red weapons were trained on her fiancée, but he didn't seem to notice, as he was locked in an angry stare down with the older man.
"Resisting us doesn't help," the leader answered. "We don't want to hurt you, but we can't have a threat to our lives staying here. You have two options: come quietly, or we'll have to fight you."
"If you keep threatening us, I'm not going to cooperate," Chester refuted angrily.
"Chaz…" Amy whimpered, squeezing his hand. It didn't seem like a good idea to argue with these people at the moment, when they were so obviously overwhelmed and lost somewhere in the desert. They needed to gain the trust of the strange group. They couldn't strand themselves out here alone without support. Whether she liked it or not, they needed these peoples' help.
"You don't have an option," the green-eyed man seethed.
"Just watch me," Chester hissed, his empty hand curling into a fist. "I won't let—"
"Chester!" Amy gasped out. "Please stop!"
He turned to her, confused. "We can't trust them, Ames," he murmured. "I have to protect us."
"But this isn't the way!" she exclaimed. She looked away from her fiancé and turned to address the group of hostile strangers.
"Question me all you want," she announced. "I'm not afraid to answer. But don't hurt us. Don't hurt him."
"Amy!" Chester nearly yelled. His voice came out strangled.
"Please trust me on this, Chazy," she whispered.
The green-eyed man watched her suspiciously for a minute, obviously trying to judge her sincerity, before relaxing. "At least one of you is rational," he smirked.
"As long as you keep us safe," Amy replied coolly.
He nodded. "As long as you don't threaten us, your safety is assured."
"That's all that I'm asking for."
The older man smiled at her suddenly. It was just a small gesture, but it immediately set Amy at ease. She remembered in that moment that they, too, were human, and they didn't want to hurt her.
He was all business a moment later. "Poison, Ghoul, help her down to the office. Kobra, set up the computer. Jet, get Revolution. He can do the questioning."
The teenage boys with the guns—Jet and Kobra—nodded and ran from the room. The ones she assumed to be Poison and Ghoul, who she recognized as the boys who had saved her in the desert, made their way to the head of the bed.
"They're just gonna ask you a couple questions," the taller assured her, running a pale hand through messy black hair. "Don't be scared, it'll be alright."
"You'll need to let go of her," the other directed to Chester.
Chester glared up at him and tightened his grip on her hand. "Where she goes, I go."
"No can do," he shrugged. "Sorry, dude, but those are the rules. We've had too many brushes with Draculoids—we're cracking down on security. Be glad we didn't bust iout masks and voice disguisers too."
Chester looked like he was gearing up for another argument, but Amy squeezed his hand, quieting him. "I'll be fine, Chaz," she murmured. "I can take care of myself."
"I know you can," he sighed.
She smiled softly. "See you soon. I love you."
With some difficulty, Amy struggled out of the bed, her tired body still protesting. She hadn't healed entirely from the desert ordeal yet, but the group of strangers had treated her well. The worst of the acid burns on her arms had been bandaged and she was aware of some kind of medicine clouding her brain. More than anything, the warmth and chance for rest had helped. At least the situation wasn't completely hostile.
Poison and Ghoul led her across a metal railing and to a steep ladder built into the wall, grinning apologetically. They tried to help her down as best they could. Eventually, all three made it to the bottom level and Amy glanced around in amazement.
They were in a cavernous room, almost as tall as it was wide and full of furniture, electronics, instruments and other homelike accessories. It was empty save a lone redheaded man standing near the door, raygun tucked into his belt. He saluted them as they walked past.
"Hey, Detonator," the shorter boy called out.
"Who've you got there, Ghoul?" the man answered, smirking.
"Desert girl woke up," Ghoul shrugged. "Doctor D wants her taking in for questioning, so we're bringing her to the office."
The words struck a nerve in Amy's heart. 'Taken in for questioning?' That didn't sound too good. The way Ghoul put it, it seemed as if she had done something wrong.
A look of fear must have crossed her face, because Detonator shot her a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, doll," he advised. "Revolution isn't that bad.'
"Thanks," Amy smiled weakly.
Poison and Ghoul led her into a small room set along the back wall, a stark, fluorescent space with a metal desk and an imposing table with two chairs. The skinny boy, Kobra, sat at the desk clicking away on a laptop computer. He shot a reassuring at Amy as she was guided to one of the metal chairs at the table.
"Revolution should be in here in a minute," Poison told her. "You can just sit down. Tell us if you need anything."
Amy nodded silently, her throat suddenly too tight to speak. Despite all their reassurance and kindness, she still couldn't shake the irrational fear. If she didn't answer this interrogation correctly, they had full power over her and Chester. They could kill them, or worse yet, send them back to BL/ind.
The door swung open suddenly, and a tall dirty-blond man marched in, Jet tailing him. The teen took his place beside Kobra while the man sat down in the chair across from Amy, unsmiling. This must be Revolution, she thought.
Revolution glanced at Kobra, who nodded and bit his lip as he concentrated on something on the computer screen. He flashed a quick thumbs-up a moment later.
"Full name and age," Revolution stated in an emotionless voice.
Amy tried hard to speak and found her throat was still seized up in fear. Nervously, she coughed and tried again.
"Amy Lynn Lee, seventeen," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Kobra keyed something into the computer, his face a mask of concentration. He glanced at Amy and checked the screen again, then nodded at Revolution.
"Previous occupation?" questioned the older man.
"Better Living Industries office secretary," she answered quietly. Her hands twisted together in her lap.
"Family members?"
"Living or dead?" she choked out.
"Living relations and parents," he clarified, not breaking eye contact with her.
She wanted to drop her gaze so badly—his stare was so piercing, so cold—but she couldn't show weakness, she knew. She couldn't look at all suspicious.
"My one living sibling is my half-sister Adrienne Nesser. My parents were John and Sara Lee."
At the computer, Kobra nodded again and flashed her a quick smile when Revolution wasn't looking.
"Full name and age of the boy you arrived here with," Revolver demanded.
"Chester Charles Bennington, eighteen."
Amy was getting into the swing of it, and the men could notice. Poison and Ghoul had dropped their rayguns into their laps when they realized she wasn't a threat, Jet and Kobra were whispering instead of focusing on the computer screen, and even Revolution seemed to relax a little. He leaned back in his chair.
"What is your relationship to him?"
"He's my fiancé."
Revolution glanced up curiously at this. "Your stomach. Are you pregnant?"
"Yeah." A smile crossed Amy's face and her arms snaked around her belly.
"Is he the father?"
"M-hm." She nodded happily.
An expression of realization crossed Kobra's face, and he looked more closely at the laptop. "Information is verified in her BL/ind file," he announced. "She's got a death warrant for it."
"Really?" A quick look, no more than a flicker, flashed across Revolution's face. But it had been there—a smile, impressed and almost sympathetic.
"We had to go into hiding before coming here," she explained. "BL/ind nearly caught us."
"I think you'd better start from the beginning," he smirked.
"Well, just like everyone's story, it started on December 21st, 2012…"
It took Amy a long time to explain her entire tale, but as she spoke, she felt the weight of her predicament quickly falling away. It felt so good to finally be able to tell someone about how BL/ind had wronged them, how their lives had been ruined, how they needed not only safety, but revenge. She left out only the part about the Killjoys, not wanting to give away their true mission—if the secret society was real, she was certain she shouldn't go around telling strangers about it. Revolution listened carefully. His expression never changed but he didn't interrupt her at any point. Every so often, Kobra would key something into the laptop. Poison and Ghoul, meanwhile, seemed to barely be able to contain their shock and excitement at her ordeal.
"So we left Adrienne's…today? Yesterday?" Amy shrugged. "I'm not even sure how long we've been here. We left in the morning and it started raining right after we got into the desert. We found shelter, but it dissolved. I'm not sure what happened next. I woke up in here…" She spread her hands helplessly.
Revolution shook his head slightly as if coming out of a trance. "Wow," he muttered, smirking slightly.
"It's kind of a lot," she apologized.
He grinned. "Either that's an extremely elaborate cover story, or you've gone through some deep shit."
"Sort of," she smiled weakly.
The older man abruptly stood, pushing his chair back and offering her his hand. She took it gratefully and rose too.
"I believe you," he confided. "But we'll have to corroborate your story with your fiance's before making any decisions. Poison and Ghoul can take care of you."
The two boys sheathed their guns and stepped forward at this, smiling kindly. "C'mon," Poison offered. "We can go hang in the main room till Chester's done."
"What's the main room?" Amy asked as they led her out of the small office.
"It's that big space we came through to get down here," Ghoul explained, pushing open the door. "This area. We do everything down here—sleep, eat, hold meetings, et cetera."
"It's so big," she marveled.
"Well, it used to be a warehouse," Poison told her. "We're still working on getting everything up. It's not complete yet, but it works for what we need it for."
"What do you need it for?"
Amy could immediately see she'd asked one question too many. Ghoul and Poison exchanged worried glances. "I don't think we can tell you yet," Poison said apologetically.
She nodded. "Don't worry, I get it. But could you at least tell me what you're doing out here?"
"Um…well…" the older boy suddenly became shifty. "We're just…I guess you could say we're hiding from BL/ind."
"Just like us," she grinned. "Do you know anything about the Killjoys?"
A smile cracked Ghoul's face, although she could see he was trying to hide it. "I guess you could say that," he chuckled.
Only a few minutes after Poison guided Amy to a dusty couch along one of the walls, she was asleep, not even aware of her tiredness until she was already lying down. The two teenage boys didn't disturb her as she rested, to her relief. She didn't wake for nearly an hour. The overwhelming stress and lenghth of the journey had finally gotten to her, and now that she was fairly safe, her body shut down.
She woke when Poison shook her shoulder lightly, smiling at her gently. "Your boyfriend's done with questioning," he told her. "Crash is gonna stay here with you for a bit."
"Where are you going?" Amy asked sleepily.
His grin faded a bit. "The rest of us are gonna meet about what to do with you."
"Oh." Amy was suddenly wide awake.
"Don't worry," he murmured. "From what I've heard, most of us trust your story. We've just got to be sure."
"Why can't we know so much about you?" she burst out desperately.
Poison's expression turned grave. "What we're doing is technically illegal. BL/ind can't find out. Ever."
"But we would never tell them," she protested.
"We can't take that risk."
Amy watched hopelessly as Poison turned and walked back towards the ladder that led upstairs, where Ghoul already waited. An older man with a mass of curly brown hair emerged from the office only a moment later, leading—
"Chester!" Amy gasped, jumping up from the couch. He caught sight of her at the same time, breaking away from the man and dashing towards her. He caught her up in his arms tightly, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.
"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" he murmured frantically into her ear.
"No, I'm completely fine," she breathed. "Are you alright? What did they ask you about?"
"Basic facts—names, ages, relatives—and then our story, from the beginning. I told them everything I could remember."
"You didn't protest too much, did you?" she asked worriedly.
He smirked at this. "They only had to threaten me with guns twice."
"Chaz," she groaned, but all the same clutched him tighter to her.
"It's alright, I'm alright," he laughed. "That's all that matters for now."
Meanwhile, barely fifty feet away, the young couple's fate was being decided in a long, bare room on the top floor. Eleven of the twelve Killjoys congregated there, all but Brad who had stayed behind with the new pair. He'd volunteered on the terms hat his vote towards whatever Phoenix's opinion was.
Gerard was the last one into the room, drawing the attention of his friends as he perched atop a cardboard box. His heels drummed a beat into the makeshift chair.
"What do we do now, Billie?"
The question came from Rob, who sat next to Mike S on the far end of the room.
Billie sighed and turned to Mike D on his right. "How'd the questioning go?"
"Bennington is an arrogant bastard," the blond man growled. "But Amy was reasonable and compliant, and she's a strong girl. She's the type we need in the Killjoys. Their stories matched perfectly, and that's not the kind of story you can just make up off the top of your head."
"I used the new software we wrote to hack into their files from the BL/ind database," Mikey added. "That matched up, too. Chester's wanted for up to 30 years in prison, and Amy's got a death warrant hanging over her head. They were both employed by the company until about two weeks ago, when their apartment was apparently abandoned. That's what Amy told us when she was explaining her story."
"Are they trustworthy?" Billie asked shortly.
"The girl, at least, seems to be," Mike nodded. "And while her boyfriend isn't that pleasant, I'm sure most of us would react the same way in that situation."
"So what do we do with them?"
It was a loaded question, and everyone knew it. Nobody wanted to be the first to give an opinion.
Finally, Gerard cleared his throat. "She asked about the Killjoys," he commented.
The heads of everyone in the room whipped around quickly to stare at him. "What did she say?" Billie asked sharply.
"She only asked if we knew anything about them," the younger man reported. "And when I found her in the desert, she said she needed Doctor Death Defying. I think…I think they might be looking for us."
Gasps and murmurs filled the room, expressions immediately turning pensive. Even Tré had stopped smiling and was looking quite serious for him.
"This means one of two things," Billie said quietly. "Either they're telling the truth and they desperately need our help, or they're spies that Better Living sent to find and infiltrate us."
"We can't risk it," Rob burst out. He absentmindedly rubbed his forehead, which was covered by a white bandage from where Chester had punched him when he'd woken up.
"I think we can trust them," Frank shot back. "They haven't given us a reason to believe otherwise."
"Besides knocking me out!" the older man growled.
Mike S nodded. "They're too suspicious. BL/ind's obviously found out about us, cause of all those Drac patrols they've been sending out, but we've usually been able to take those out without too much difficulty. Who's to say they're not just trying a new tactic since the first failed so badly?"
"But she's seventeen and she really is pregnant. That's illegal under Better Living law—punishable by death. You guys have all seen the laws. They'd never let her get away with that," Mikey argued.
"Unless they've cut her a deal so that they'll ignore it if she finds us," Phoenix suggested solemnly.
Gerard turned to the leader of the Killjoys. "Billie, what do you think?" he asked desperately.
Billie glanced around the circle at each Killjoy's face, gauging the mood in the room. It hung heavy with opinions and emotions.
"We'll vote," he decided. "Those who are willing to give them the benefit of the doubt and tell them about the Killjoys, which means potentially accepting them as one of us, and those who don't."
"What's the other option besides letting them join?" Joe asked shortly. "They know too much already if they are BL/ind spies. If that's what we decide, we can't let them go back to the city."
"What else can we do? Kill them?" Frank spat.
The Korean man shook his head. "Of course not. But on the last Draculoid we searched, I found this." He withdrew from his pocket a small, clear bottle surrounded by a blue label. The words on the front read 'Experimental Substance 231CX7—Memory Erasure.'
"I have no idea how safe it is," he continued. "But if it's the only alternative to having to kill them, I'd rather try this."
"Alright," Billie agreed. "Joining the Killjoys or memory wiping. All those for trusting them and telling them about the Killjoys, raise your hands."
Gerard, Frank, Mike D and Mikey immediately shot their hands into the air, Ray following tentatively after seeming to consider it for a moment. Billie counted and nodded. "Five for. Those against?"
Rob and Mike voted immediately. Tré and Joe raised their hands soon after, and finally Billie lifted his own, almost as an afterthought. "And…five against," he reported. "Who didn't vote?"
Everyone glanced around the circle confusedly until Phoenix cleared his throat. "I didn't," he announced. "I'm still deciding."
"Well, hurry up and make a choice," Tré demanded. "I want this over with."
The bassist looked as if he were deep in thought for a moment, before a look of decision spread over his face. "I don't trust them completely yet, but they deserve to know," he said slowly. "And they would make good Killjoys. I vote for them—and Brad votes with me."
"Then the vote is seven to five in favor," Billie said. "Chester and Amy stay, and if they want to, they join the Killjoys."