First off: Sorry this is late ;_;
Secondly: No update next week ;_;
Both of the above are due to Odyssey of the Mind (it's quite complicated to explain-if you're interested, google it!) and the fact that myself and four of my best friends are going to be flying out to Iowa on Tuesday for World Finals! We'll be there till next Monday and I won't have access to my home computer, hence I can't get to my files for Sing and can't update. I'll update as soon as I can-that Monday? Tuesday? Something like that-but just so nobody gets worried and thinks I died, next week will have a late update XD
Aaand now here's this week's installment in the tale of the Fabulous Killjoys! :D
CHAPTER 27: THIS PLANET'S OURS TO DEFEND
February 23, 2014
Zone 3, California
12:17 PM
Adrenaline pumped through Ray's veins. His heart was in his throat, its' incessant pounding deafening in his head,. He whirled and fired over his shoulder, not even stopping to listen for the Drac's pained cry as it fell. His feet hit the sand with an erratic rhythm. Sun poured down on him relentlessly, soaking his mass of curly hair with burning sunshine.
He heaved in a deep breath and stopped, inching backwards until his back was aligned with Mikey's. He could feel the younger boy trembling as he aimed and fired, aimed and fired, over and over. There were sporadic screams whenever he found his mark.
He couldn't see Billie, Rob or Amy, and the thought made him shudder. Billie and Rob could take care of themselves, but Amy was still vulnerable, recovering from her pregnancy and unable to shoot straight. That morning, when she had left with Ray to sweep the Zones, Chester had begged him to take care of her. It was her first major mission since giving birth. He'd promised to take care of her…
A quick, dark flash in the corner of his field of vision, and Ray sighed in relief. Billie was covering her while she darted towards him and Mikey. She must be following his instructions—if they were in danger, seek him out.
Ray redoubled his efforts, spraying lasers over the scene below him. BL/ind was upping the ante. He and Amy had stumbled across a horde of Draculoids on the inner edge of Zone 3, and had barely had time to radio for help before they were overwhelmed. Thank God that Billie, Mikey and Rob were nearby, making a broadcast.
"Rob's down!" Mikey shouted, and Ray whipped his head around. Sure enough, the brunette drummer was collapsed on the sand, vivid red blood staining the sleeve of his t-shirt. At least it didn't look fatal—but still, a friend hurt, a fighter down. They had to end this, and soon.
Amy had almost reached the top of the sand dune where he and Mikey stood, but abruptly, she turned around and began sprinting back down the hill at Mikey's yell. Her deep violet raygun flashed as she whipped it out of its holster.
"Amy, no!" Ray roared, but she didn't listen. She stumbled as she hit flat ground again and skidded to a stop. Her gaze traveled up slowly until she was looking into the eyes of the Draculoid who had shot Rob.
Only it wasn't a Draculoid.
The figure wore all white just as a Draculoid did, but its' uniform was thicker, its' mask different. Instead of a latex Halloween mask, its' head was covered with what seemed to be a body bag with BL/ind's logo painted over the place where its' face would be. It tilted its' head down to stare at the terrified girl in front of him with oddly jerky, robotic movements. There was one word printed in black over its' left pocket:
S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W.
In a lightning-fast reflex, its' massive white gun was in its' hands and trained on Amy, just as hers' was trained on its' head. Amy began to back away and towards Rob ever-so-slowly. Ray shot at the robotic Draculoid, but the lasers went wide as it dodged them easily, still advancing on the female Killjoy.
"Wh-what are you?" she choked out desperately.
"S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit 182," it droned. "Experimental Mission 3, test run. Seek and destroy all threats to perfect order."
"You're not human!" the girl cried out. And Ray could see she was right—because of the precise, jerking movements, the toneless voice, the exact programmed language it had just used.
Better Living Industries had developed a new, dangerous weapon. An army of cold, efficient, emotionless soldiers.
An army of robots.
"Target detected," the robot intoned, its' arms jerking up to lock into place in front of it. Amy scrambled back desperately, one arm holding her raygun up in protection and the other shielding her face.
"Run!" Ray screamed at her. "Run, Amy! Get the fuck out!"
There was a high-pitched, keening bang familiar to all the Killjoys as a raygun firing. Ray's stomach lurched sickeningly. He had failed. Amy was dead, Grace was motherless, Chester would be heartbroken—
But instead, the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W stepped back, its' left arm smoking. It lifted its' right arm almost as if it was confused. Amy didn't spare it another glance as she slung Rob's arm around her shoulders and sprinted for the Trans Am, half-dragging him behind her.
"Jet! Behind you!" Mikey yelled, and the sound of his Killjoy name dragged Ray back into the battle. He downed the three Draculoids advancing on their dune with ease, and while the robot drone was still recovering, grabbed hold of Mikey's arm and tugged him towards the van. Amy had already revved the Trans Am's engine and was speeding back towards the base with Rob in the passenger seat. Billie caught sight of them and beat a hasty retreat, diving into the backseat of the van as he fired a final round of shots at the Draculoids. They fell, but the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit was still up, lurching towards them with frighteningly determined staggers.
"Step on it," Mikey gasped, and Ray did.
The van shot down the road after the Trans Am like a bullet out of a gun. The radio Mikey and Chester had installed in all Killjoy vehicles crackled, and Amy's voice burst through the speakers.
"Is everyone okay?" she asked shakily.
Ray picked up the tiny inter-vehicle transmitter. "Doctor Death Defying, Kobra Kid and Jet Star are fine," he reported as Billie flashed him a weak thumbs-up from the back.
"Rust Wolf and Screaming Sunshine are alive too. Wolf's right arm took a raygun laser and he needs to get back to the base for medical aid, but we're all alive…"
Amy exhaled deeply though the speaker. The sound was uneven and shaky, as though she'd been holding her breath since her brush with BL/ind's robot drone. "What was that thing?" she muttered.
"Dangerous," Ray replied grimly.
She sighed. "I couldn't kill it."
"It's alright," he reassured her. "You did amazing—better than what I could've cone, I'm sure. None of us could kill that on our own. BL/ind's too strong for us to take on alone."
"It's seen our faces…Wolf's and mine, at least," she murmured.
"We're safe as long as it doesn't have our real names. They can't easily identify us without—" Ray's sentence cut off suddenly and he clutched the steering wheel in horror.
"What's wrong? Jet!" Amy exclaimed worriedly.
"I didn't use your Killjoy name," he whispered slowly. "I was too worried. You were in danger. I forgot—twice. I called…I called you Amy."
Amy sucked in a deep breath quickly. There was a clatter, and Rob's voice burst through the speaker a moment later. "She's fine—just concentrating on driving," he reported. "But…do you think it heard?"
"I shouted it pretty damn loudly," Ray mumbled.
"But…it's not alive. It's a robot. Could it have understood?"
"I hope not," he said grimly.
The drive back was spent mostly in silence. The only time any of the shaken and frightened Killjoys spoke was to compare notes on the drone they'd encountered—its' robotic voice and movements; the extreme strength Rob had witnessed when the drone first snuck up and seized him from behind; the patch with S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W sewn above the left pocket on its' chest, where its' heart would have been if it had one. The only conclusion they could come to was that BL/ind was evolving faster than them. Too fast. Their technology was advancing as if it was designed to exterminate the Killjoys. If their rayguns didn't work against it, they were completely fucked.
The entire group of Killjoys was waiting outside the base when the five arrived home. Their faces were pale and drawn with worry. Even Tré, who never dropped his joking demeanor, was looking seriously worried.
The moment Amy stepped out of the car, Chester ran over to her. His expression transformed from fear to relief. Grace reached out tiny arms to her father from her place in Frank's arms, and the teenager complied, carrying the baby towards her embracing parents.
"I was so worried," Chester whispered harshly, pressing his face into the top of her deep black head of hair. "You were late. Two hours late. I thought you had—"
"I'm okay, I'm okay," Amy soothed. Her hands stroked comfortingly over his back.
"Where were you?" he questioned.
Amy pulled back, leaving one of her hands interlocked with his, and turned to take Grace from Frank's arms. Grace gurgled happily and clutched a fistful of her mother's dark hair.
She smiled down at her daughter tenderly before looking up to address the crowd of men before her. "Better Living's getting stronger," she announced grimly. "They've got new soldiers. Robots. I couldn't kill it, and it knows my name."
"Robots?" Mike D repeated incredulously.
Billie joined the worried young family, Mikey, Ray and Rob trailing him. Rob's arm hung limply at his side and his sleeve was soaked with red. Mike S rushed to his side.
"We think they're called Scarecrows," the leader reported.
"They…but…robots?" Mike D repeated again. He blinked at his best friend in disbelief.
"Looks like it," Billie affirmed.
The other shook his head. "They're too smart," he muttered. "To have this level of technology, and use it for something like that…they can't only be doing this because of us. We're not that big of a threat. There has to be an ulterior motive."
"I really don't think any of us want to think about BL/ind's ulterior motives right now," Ray groaned. He stumbled towards the warehouse tiredly, running a hand through his tangled hair.
"We might have to," Gerard replied.
Ray looked up at him, suddenly on edge. "Why? What's happening?"
The black-haired boy's expression turned serious. "It's easier to let the television do the talking."
Ray and Mikey exchanged confused looks. That didn't sound good at all.
The curly-haired Killjoy was struck with the sudden feeling of sobriety hanging over the group as they made their way inside the building and to the meeting area, filled with half-destroyed couches and armchairs with stuffing falling out. Amy and Chester curled into one armchair with Grace resting in a cradle formed by their arms, the young girl's face fearful and drawn. Gerard, Frank and Mikey fell onto a red couch, tugging Ray after them.
"They've been playing these clips all day," Mike D informed them as he clicked on the TV. "I don't know what it means for us, or for Battery City, or for the world. But it's not good."
The man fell into silence as the screen faded from static into an image of the calm Japanese female reporter they all recognized so well—Airi Isoda, BL/ind's major vehicle for propaganda on the airwaves.
"Citizens are encouraged to stay calm," she was saying in a smooth, hypnotic voice. "There is nothing to worry about. Better Living Industries will protect its' customers."
"Protect against what?" Mikey burst angrily. His brother shushed him, his face pale and flickering by the light of the screen.
The image flashed to a different face, this time an Asian man standing in front of a towering mountain range. The bottom of the screen read Correspondent Ryu Amane, Utah.
"The former President of the United States emerged from his bunker here in the Rocky Mountains today and has challenged the world's new order," he reported. "He and the remains of the American Army have been targeted as a threat to peace and are being dealt with. There is no reason to worry."
Ray's jaw visibly dropped as he stared at the screen. Mikey removed his glasses and rubbed them on his shirt, as if he was sure he had misunderstood the image because his sight was blurry. Rob let out a low moan.
"They're targeting the army?" Billie whispered incredulously.
Mike D's expression was set in an angry scowl. "They've gone too far," he muttered. "But it's been on repeat all day—they're seriously planning to fight the Army. They're taking all power away from the real government."
"But they can't," The Killjoy leader protested. "People would never listen. Even citizens from Battery City would realize this is dangerous."
Gerard sighed. "That's why Frank and I think they've got them under some kind of mind control."
"Mind control?" Amy, Ray and Mikey gasped. Billie stared at the boy as if he was crazy.
"They keep flashing little messages at the bottom of the screen about taking some kind o f pill every day," Frank said dryly. "None of us have any idea what they're talking about, but it's suspicious to say the least."
Amy gasped suddenly and sprang up, waking Grace as she dumped the baby into her boyfriend's arms. "I do," she said, and dashed for the ladder.
"What the fuck is she talking about?" Ray asked tiredly.
Chester shrugged. "Who knows."
The girl reappeared a moment later, clutching something in her left fist. She opened her hand to reveal a small, clear pill bottle resting in her palm, the label printed simply with BL/ind and the smiling logo.
"Chester and I used to get these every week when we were working for BL/ind," she explained. "I never took them cause of Grace. Chester did once, but it scared the fuck out of me. He wasn't hi9kmself."
"Wasn't himself?" Billie asked sharply. "How so?"
"He'd agree to everything, I said, no complaints, and he was always so tired. It was like he wasn't interested in anything—like his emotions were being suppressed." A small shudder ran through her body, and she glanced at Chester as if to reassure herself he was still alright.
Chester frowned. "I didn't even notice it was happening."
In a unanimous motion, the circle of Killjoys backed away from Amy, who was still holding the bottle as if it was toxic. They stared, repulsed, at the small object in her pale palm.
"It can't be." Billie shook his head. "It can't. There's no way."
"It's the only way," Amy replied grimly.
"But…mind control?" he hissed. "Suppressing emotions? That has to be illegal!"
"BL/ind's the one making the laws now," Tré reminded his friend.
Billie stepped forward tentatively and lifted the bottle from Amy's outstretched hand. He stared at it hard, eyeing it with apprehension and disgust, then twisted the cap off and let seven small, blue-and-white pills spill into his cupped palm.
He turned to Mike D. "Can you run tests on them with your science shit?"
"Should do," the other nodded. "Mikey, Chaz, Phi, we've got a new project."
The three men nodded stoically, looking less than enthusiastic. As the ones who were the smartest or best with tools and mechanics, they helped Mike with his scientific and technical projects. Phoenix had an affinity for chemistry and explosives in particular, Chester was good with mechanics because of his car-mechanic father, and Mikey was simply a teenage genius.
Billie carefully replaced the pills in the tiny bottle and held it out to Mike D, who seemed reluctant to touch it, but pocketed the suspicious medication anyway. They retreated to their seats, Amy dropping back into the armchair next to Chester and reclaiming Grace from his arms. She immediately began to soothe the baby back to sleep.
Gerard sighed heavily. "There's too much shit to deal with today. First the Scarecrow, then the president, now this. They're crazy. They can't get away with all of this."
"But they are," Mikey murmured, sinking farther into the couch between his brother and Ray.
"The real government will stop them…right?" he questioned, his tone pleading. None of his friends answered. They were all as unsure as he was.
"We can't be sure of anything anymore," Billie said grimly. "We are the only ones left we can trust. Us fourteen people—the Killjoys—we're all we have left."
Amy sniffed and clutched Grace tighter. She'd known, ever since she fled Battery City, that there was a very small chance of ever returning—but still, she'd held some small hope that once she turned twenty-one, she, Chester and Grace could go back to their old lift and Grace could grow up like a normal child. She now knew that was impossible. Returning to Battery City would mean willingly going along with BL/ind's vicious plan of domination, of getting pills shoved down her throat to cancel emotions. Even worse, it would mean letting her innocent baby become brainwashed—and she would never let that happen. Grace was too precious to place in any kind of danger.
Frank must have noticed her sudden worry, because he smiled kindly at her. "Don't worry. Grace will be fine here. We'll all take care of her and help teach her," he promised the young girl. She smiled back at him in thanks.
"We'll have to be more careful now," Mike D continued. "We can't let BL/ind find us out here, and they can't find out anything about our past lives they could use against us. Our first priority is staying alive, and with all this new shit to deal with, that's gonna be a hell of a lot harder than it sounds."
While the rest of the group agreed, Gerard stood and grabbed a paintbrush and a can of red paint. He made his way over to the wall behind the TV.
"What are you doing?" Mikey asked curiously as his brother splashed color onto the wall.
Gerard stepped back, allowing his friends to see the word RULES splattered across the top of the wall in capital letters. "We need laws, too," he announced. "Better ones than what we have right now. Laws to keep us alive."
His last sentence plunged the Killjoys into discussion for nearly an hour. There was so much for the desert rebels to safeguard against and so little they knew about the new world and BL/ind that most of their ideas were implausible or controversial, and it was all Gerard could do to try and keep track of all the words flying between his friends. But eventually, they managed to agree on three points, and the young artist added the words under his heading in blood-red paint.
RULES
Keep your boots tight, keep your gun close and die with your mask on if you have to
Code names only
Don't trust anyone unless they're a Killjoy—even incoming members
"That should be good," Billie nodded. Gerard glanced proudly at the wall. "And one last thing—staying alive is our first priority. Bringing down Better Living Industries is our second. Don't get them confused."
"How exactly are we going to bring down Better Living Industries?" Rob asked skeptically.
The leader shrugged noncommittally. "I'm still getting to that part."
"Does it involve possibly dying?" Mikey asked sarcastically.
Billie smiled, but there was no amusement in his expression. "Maybe," he said.