Chapter Three: The Kids From Yesterday

WHAT? Desi resisted screaming. With all these bombshells dropping, she was amazed she didn't go back into hysterics. I can't be related to the Fabulous Killjoys. They're like twelve years older than me, and I was born in Battery City. And, if I did happen to be related to them, why was Party Poison so pissed about it? Rasta was obviously having his own mental dialogue, because he wasn't speaking, either.

Kobra Kid would have probably said more on the matter, but Party Poison had tackled him, and they were now scuffling together on the ground. Jet Star seemed intrigued by the display, but it was hard to tell behind those glasses. Fun Ghoul, though, winced as Party rolled up on top, and rose up to repeatedly punch Kobra in the face, and grimaced as Kobra officially gave up his defensive maneuvers, drawing his knee up into Party's balls.

As both rolled away, like boxers heading back to their corners, Fun Ghoul approached Desi and Rasta. "I know you guys are probably here to join the Danger Days Army, but right now, I think you'd rather go in and hear from Dr. D. He's the only one besides Party and Kobra who knows the whole story, and it looks like they," Fun Ghoul jerked his thumb behind him at the two groaning Killjoys, "Aren't going to be in the mood to talk anytime soon."

Desi was still staring at nothing, dumbfounded. But now she focused her gaze on Fun Ghoul. "They're fucking serious?" She exclaimed.

"Are they?" Rasta asked.

Fun Ghoul shrugged. "I guess so. They never explained why we kept such a close eye on some random mushy in Battery City, but we kept tabs. And when you became a Killjoy, Kobra and Party began to disagree so much, they agreed to drop it. Until Dr. D found out you were coming to find us today. The man can do a lot more than DJ a radio station."

Desi was speechless. She was the controversial red-headed stepchild. (Well, Desi had been blonde before she became a Killjoy, and Party was the red-head, but that was irrelevant). The old cliché still applied.

"Well," Desi started, "Let's go meet Dr. Death Defying."

Fun Ghoul led Rasta and Desi inside the shack. There were a few Killjoys she didn't know, but some were almost as legendary as the Fabulous Killjoys. Show Pony was there, his (her?) face covered by a black helmet, wearing a white tank top emblazoned with the word 'Noise', blue spotted tights with a black thong, and, to top off the crazy-even for a Killjoy- look, was a pair of roller skates.

Desi suddenly realized she had no idea who Dr. Death Defying was. No one ever spoke of him; all they knew was the sound of his voice. Maybe Show Pony was Dr. Death Defying. They all said Show Pony never talked, but maybe that was to protect his secret identity.

"Hey there, tumbleweed." The voice she had heard a thousand times, on clear nights when the broadcasts gave Killjoys more than a scratchy walkie-talkie sound. A few Killjoys moved around to reveal a Mexican looking man wearing aviator sunglasses and a folded bandanna to pull back his hair. Not a surprising look, but... He was sitting in a wheelchair, and easily the oldest person she'd met outside of Battery City. He wasn't gray or anything (even though one of the easiest things for Killjoys to find was hair dye), he just looked about forty.

"Dr. Death Defying." The older man let out a deep laugh that rumbled in his chest.

"That I am, and you can see, there's a reason I don't go running around with the boys, looking for claps to get into." He smiled. "I've been running this station since before the Fall, and I was in this silly contraption even before that."

"Sir," Oddly, even though Killjoys weren't much for manners or military honorifics, Desi felt that Dr. D deserved a 'sir'. "What can you tell me about my-" Desi found it hard to wrap her mouth around the word. "Brothers?" She finally managed.

Dr. Death Defying gestured toward a ratty-looking couch, which the Killjoys occupying it immediately evacuated. "It's probably gonna be a long story, so you should take a seat, tumbleweed." He looked at Rasta Blasta and raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want him in here? This won't be easy." Rasta tried not to look offended and failed. Desi thought it was cute.

"Yes, I do. He's been with me since he and his gang saved me from my first real clap with a couple of Dracs. Where I go, he goes." Desi and Rasta sat together on the couch, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"You ready to listen, Desi?" Dr. D. asked.

"Yes." She was as ready as she could be, considering she'd only known she had a pair of big brothers for about five minutes.

"Well, where do I start?" Dr. Death Defying muttered to himself. "Party Poison and Kobra Kid were adults when BL/ind took everything over in 2012. BL had been around for a couple of years, gaining power. But they didn't go for global domination until the Fall. November 22, 2012, five years after the company went public; they had an international foothold in every major industry: television, pharmaceuticals, private security, and so much more.

Not long after that, they started buying out the remaining competition, and there wasn't much of that left, because almost everything had folded or been absorbed by BL/ind already. Soon the 'Medication' was prescribed to every U.S. citizen over the age of eighteen. Your brothers, as well as Jet Star and Fun Ghoul, had heard from underground sources what the Medication did to everyone. It lessened emotion and turned everyone using it into a mindless zombie. So they banded together and moved out to the desert, along with about fifty other people who believed in fighting BL/ind. These were the first Killjoys. In the beginning, they used crazy codenames because all cell phones were under surveillance, and so was nearly every other electronic device made after 2001. Soon, the codenames became identities.

"But you already know this," Dr. Death Defying continued. "Every Killjoy knows the beginning.

"Well, when BL/ind officially took control of the entire state of California as their base of operations and manufacture, everyone living in California was automatically employed into BL/ind service. That included Party Poison and Kobra Kid's parents. Their father had been successfully pretending to take his medicine until then, but BL tests all employees for presence of Medication in their bloodstream. So, he was discovered, and quickly exterminated. Their mother, who is also your mother, was still a viable female because she had Party and Kobra so young. She was reassigned to create a new family unit, this time with your father. And so you came to be.

"Party doesn't recognize you as being related because to him, people die the instant they start taking Medication. So you are not the child of his mother. In his eyes, you're just the offspring of DLW-040901977." Dr. Death Defying paused, done for the moment.

"Every Killjoy I've ever met has felt more like family to me than my Parental Units." Desi said. "No one in Battery City has names, and the alphanumerics are way too long. So everyone refers to each other in context of relationship. I called her Mother, she called me Daughter. Father called her Wife, and Postman called her Resident 3 of Block A, Street M. Father's Boss referred to Father as Senior Mail Room Manager.

"Nothing was personal. I'm so lucky I managed to start puberty without getting highly emotional. They give children Medication as young as twelve, and they lowered the mandatory age to sixteen for females. I was two weeks and eight days away from getting my prescription the night someone left a radio in my room, set to your station. A week later, I ran like hell for the Zones."

Desi looked at Dr. D. "I don't suppose you have any idea which Killjoy risked their nuts, their life, and your radio station to sneak into the core of Battery City, do you? For the first three days after I heard your broadcast and the two Fabulous Killjoy songs of the night, I seriously considered reporting the radio, and the frequency."

Dr. D shrugged. "No one has ever claimed responsibility for creating Desi Destroya. No Killjoy but you has ever left BL/ind so old. No one else has come out of Battery City, either. Maybe Lil' Killjoy, but that was years ago." He explained.

"Who would think one little mushy was worth all that? No one but the Fabulous Killjoys and you knew about me. And Fun Ghoul and Jet Star didn't even know the whole story." Desi said.

"I have no idea, tumbleweed. The Fabulous Killjoys were surprised as I was when my contacts hacking the surveillance meters placed in the Zones told us they saw you running from Battery City."

Desi sat back, mulling over all the new information she had just heard. I really am related to Party Poison and Kobra Kid. We have the same mother. The thought was still completely crazy to her. Every Killjoy wished they had some connection to the Fabulous Killjoys; they were the only celebrities left, since it was practically the end of the world.

A thought struck Desi. "Wait," Desi said, sitting up. "They were adults before I was even born?"

Dr. D chuckled again, nodding. "Yes. Kobra Kid graduated in 2014, and Party Poison a few years before that. They were both away at colleges when San Diego transitioned into Battery City."

Desi resisted her jaw's urge to drop. "That makes them both nearly forty! They barely look older than twenty-five!"

Dr. D kept laughing as he spoke. "Yes, they are. Party Poison frowns at every newspaper he finds blowing around the desert."

"They really are fabulous, aren't they?" Rasta Blasta said, interjecting. "Not many Killjoys see thirty. And those four notoriously run around looking for Dracs to get into a clap with."

"You don't get to be a legend without doing some crazy shit, people." a new voice said. Desi and Rasta both turned to look at the Killjoy standing in the doorway to the back room of the shack. She was tall and thin with dark skin and a frizzy halo of dark brown hair. She wore faded black skinny jeans and a red and orange motorcycle jacket, layered over an unbuttoned thin plaid flannel, with a faded BL/ind logo t-shirt from before the Fall. She was also wearing stiletto boots. No one wore heels any more. On her hands was a pair of fingerless biker gloves, and a weathered gray handkerchief stuck out of her back pocket.

The surprising thing about her, other than the fact that no blaster was visible on her body, was that every piece of clothing fit her perfectly. Even Desi hadn't found a perfect fit in all of her gear. "Um, who the hell are you?" Desi asked, after she stopped staring at the newcomer.

"You don't recognize me? Shame." The Killjoy girl ran a hand over her afro, which was even bigger than Candy and Shasta's, although that wasn't saying a lot. "You been living under a rock, Killjoy?"

Rasta snapped his fingers and all but jumped out of his seat. "You're the Lil' Killjoy!" He pointed at her, full of nervous energy. "The one the Killjoys saved and nearly died for!"

Desi turned to look at Rasta. "Issues?" She asked.

Little Girl looked at them both as though she were crazy. "You are a little too excited," she said, looking at Rasta, "and you are clueless. How do you not know who I am?" She messed with the collar of her jacket, frowning. "Besides, I have a name, you know."

Desi narrowed her eyes. "I thought everyone here happened to know all about the legendary Desi Destroya. I grew up in Battery City, and became a Killjoy just before I just turned sixteen. So, I know all the legends, but I never heard much about you beyond what happened before the Fabulous Killjoys practically died."

"What is your name?" Rasta spoke up.

Lil' Killjoy, who wasn't actually so little anymore, heaved a big sigh. "Manic Phantom."

A light bulb went off in Desi's brain. "Manic Phantom! The fifth Fabulous Killjoy! All you ever were to me was rumors to the people I heard the stories from. Somebody once told me that Manic Phantom was the craziest, bravest, most Fabulous Killjoy. They even told me that maybe it was you that left the radio in my bedroom, because no other Killjoy would go that far into Battery City just for one random mushy."

Manic Phantom's eyebrow rose. "Desi Destroya? Growing up in Battery City?" She bit her lower lip, contemplating. "You're the girl that Party and Kobra insisted on keeping tabs on. They never told anyone but Dr. D who you were or why you mattered. I just knew that, any time the two of them argued, it was about you."

"So," Desi started. "Were you the one who put the radio in my bedroom? That Killjoy saved my life." Desi looked at the grimy floor of the shack, thinking about the way her life would have gone if she'd never heard Dr. Death Defying's broadcast: a numb, meaningless nonlife in a black and white, sterile world.

"I can't tell you who did that, Killjoy." Manic stared off into space. "That's not entirely my story to tell." With that, she started to walk across the small room to the front door.

"I have a completely unrelated question," Rasta said. "why don't you have a blaster?"

Manic coolly looked over her shoulder. Desi suddenly realized that her eyes were hazel, and kind of golden, actually. "I don't need one."

What? Desi thought for the second time that day. Every Killjoy carried a blaster, even Kobra Kid, who was known for his karate skills.

Apparently, when Korse kidnapped me back in 2019, he put out an order to the S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W. unit to not harm me. The Fabulous Killjoys killed him before he could retract the order. And Kobra Kid taught me karate, so I just break their necks. I feel bad when I have to shoot them, because they aren't trying to hurt me."

"Oh." Rasta said.

Dr, D, who had been silent, throughout the entire exchange with Manic Phantom, cleared his throat. "Well, tumbleweeds, I've got a broadcast to make. You mind going outside and seeing if Party and Kobra are all right from their tussle?"

Desi and Rasta rose from the beat-up couch. "No problem," they both agreed, and headed outside.

As they returned to the glaring full sun of the California desert, they saw Party Poison and Kobra Kid standing apart from Manic Phantom and the other Fabulous Killjoys, in the middle of a heated discussion. Jet Star and Fun Ghoul seemed to be staring down the highway with Manic Phantom, waiting for Killjoys to show up, since this was the meeting place for all Killjoys not teamed up with the Danger Days Army already. As soon as Fun Ghoul saw them, he came jogging over.

"So does everything make sense now?" he asked. "Are you gonna tell me all the things I don't know?" Desi laughed.

"I should have known you had an ulterior motive for being so nice to me," Desi joked. "I might tell you later tonight, after all the rest of the Killjoys get here."

Confusion spread across Fun Ghoul's face. "You mean you're going to tell all of them?" he asked.

"No, of course I'm not going to. It may be my story, but I'm not the only one who should get a say about the people who know." She glanced down the highway herself. If she squinted just right, she thought she could see Shasta's RV in the distance. "I just want to help out with all the Killjoys we think will be coming in. We know for a fact that you should be getting about fifty or so any minute now."

"I thought the two of you were running solo. If you were on that bike as a scout team, you sure wouldn't have been canoodling when you were supposed to be checking out the site." Fun Ghoul was resisting laughing his ass off. Desi didn't know if it was because he used the word 'canoodle' successfully in a sentence, or if he just thought that her first face-to-face meeting with her brothers was as funny as she did.

"It was just the two of us until we got separated in a clap with some Dracs." Rasta said. "I ended up with the group a few days later and a scout of theirs found Desi this morning, camping out over an abandoned convenience store. We helped them get some more guns for their crew."

Suddenly, a walkie-talkie crackled from inside Rasta's jacket. Shasta had given it to them when they left, since they had enough batteries to spare a few beyond Candy's scout crew. He pulled it out, and pressed the button to talk. "What was that?"

"We're almost to the location," Shasta's voice said, crackling through the walkie talkie. "Are the Killjoys actually there?"

"Yes they are." Rasta replied.

"Got that. See you soon, and could you tell Desi thanks?" The static crackled and died.

"Why thanks?" Desi asked.

"Well, they're running later than we expected. They probably got into a clap. You start moving fifty plus Killjoys around, S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W. notices. And the RV is probably jacked. I'll have to get a message to Silicon Rocket and see if he can corrupt the signal." Rasta put his hands in his jacket pockets. "Shasta and Candy saved my life. It'd be nice if I could make sure they all can rest a little easier. I owe them that much."

"We've never had a problem with Dracs coming to retrieve the bike," Desi said.

"Yeah, but even S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W. knows that you've got Fabulous Killjoy blood. I think they're willing to lose a single bike." Rasta retorted.

"Dracs still chase the Fabulous Killjoys."

"When was the last time they got hit by Dracs without looking for a fight first? It may not take long to find them, but that doesn't mean they were going to get attacked anyway. They've had the same HQ for what, almost twenty years? Almost every Killjoy knows it's in an old diner, even if they don't know which one. They are either in the middle of nowhere with a pretty heavy vow of secrecy, or they're really badass."

Desi sighed. "I still think Silicon Rocket did a great job with the bike. Jeez, now I'm getting special treatment from even Dracs for who my brothers are. And, one of them doesn't even acknowledge me." Desi paused when Rasta put a hand on her shoulder. "Do you know what? I don't really blame him, Rasta. Their father fought; he refused Medication. But their mother gave in. She ran away, she wasn't a Killjoy. Killjoys run towards chaos, away from authority."

Rasta looked Desi in the eye. "You don't know her story. She could have been on one of the first trials. They didn't advertise Medication with its real effects. Back then, there were addictive qualities, and maybe there still are."

Desi looked away. "I still don't blame him. Regardless of how, the mother of Party Poison and Kobra Kid died the day she started taking Medication. I am the by-product of two nonpersons. If that radio hadn't been left in my room…" she trailed off, and then looked at Rasta. "I would have been another nonperson. I would have had a nonlife at some useless BL/ind job for females. At nineteen, I would have been assigned to my own Family Unit, and I'd have created more nonpersons with a faceless man I knew only as Husband."

Rasta kissed Desi on the forehead. "But you aren't. Some Killjoy told Fate to suck lemons, and took a chance on you. And you ran away. Lithium and I saved your life. And, even though he wanted to kill you on sight just for being a mushy, I didn't let him. Even that psycho gang knew better than to harm mushies. It's not their fault that they're brain dead and soulless. It's BL/ind's fault. We only shoot when they're S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W., 'cause we have no choice. It's kill or be killed with BL/ind."

"Sometimes I worry that the past three years have been some fluke hallucination from a messed up batch of Medication, and that I'll wake up in Battery City one morning, confused. Then someone will give me a clean batch of pills, and I'll forget you, and the Killjoys, and everything I stand for right now."

Rasta started to chuckle at Desi's words, but stopped when he saw the genuine fear in her eyes. "You really think BL/ind would be able to create something this vivid and so very un-mushy? Even by a fluke?"

"When you put it that way…" Desi stopped talking, and just leaned against Rasta. He wrapped his arms around her, and Desi felt safe. Even when her universe was being turned upside down, especially then, there was always Rasta Blasta, sticking around to protect her, and watch her back. Even though she had her own blaster and was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

They were still standing together a minute later when Fun Ghoul whistled sharply. They looked up, and the outline of Shasta and Candy's RV was clearly visible down the highway. Somewhere from within his army green vest, Fun Ghoul withdrew a flare gun and fired it into the air. Luckily the sun had just started to set, so the neon green bulb of light was visible as it arced up into the sky. When he had replaced the gun within his vest, he turned to look at the two of them. "I've been looking for an excuse to use that thing for weeks," he said, grinning. Fun Ghoul had one of those smiles, like Rasta, that you just couldn't help suddenly feeling like you should be just as happy as he was.

Jet Star came out of the shack with Party Poison, both of them walking fast and a bit angrily. "What'd you do that for? Do we really need a neon sign saying, 'Hey Dracs, we're right here, come knock us all out and turn us into more of you'? We have fifty plus Killjoys two minutes out."

For a moment, Fun Ghoul looked like he was about to apologize for his mistake. Desi opened her mouth, planning to say something like 'You guys are Killjoys, would it kill you all to lighten up?' when Party and Jet both started grinning like madmen, which Desi supposed they probably were, anyways.

"We were just messing with you, man," Party said while he wrapped an arm around Fun Ghoul's neck and tried to keep him still while he could give him a noogie. "Dr. D has it covered. All his tech nerds haven't seen any Dracs within range for a few hours. And the last ones they did see are dead now, thanks to a couple of roller-skating Killjoys and a badass chick driving a Mustang. Nice car, but the Spider Trans Am it is not."

"Ha, I knew you'd say something like that the instant I saw Shasta's car." Party Poison glanced up at Desi as she spoke, his eyes hardening. Fun Ghoul was unceremoniously dropped to the ground as he stalked towards her.

Rasta shifted, so he stood behind her protectively. Even though he was a smart enough Killjoy to let his woman shoot in her own duels, Desi could feel by his posture that his hand was on his blaster. "Excuse me, but were you addressed?" Party Poison asked.

"No." Desi replied, unafraid. No matter how much of a jerk Party was going to be, she wouldn't back down to anyone. "But does it matter? We're all Killjoys here, and therefore friends through a common enemy."

"You may color your hair, carry a painted blaster, live in the desert, and shoot Dracs, but you are not a Killjoy." Party Poison spat out the words like a bad taste as Kobra Kid came out of the hut.

"Party! Get off her fucking case. I don't care if you never accept her as our sister; she's proved herself as Killjoy more than a thousand times. Back the fuck off, man." He drew his blaster. "I've shot you before when you've acted like a dick," he said as he drew the voltage knob down from high. "I'll damn well do it again." The blaster made its high whine, and Kobra Kid placed his thumb on the blaster, looking like he wished it was a revolver with a hammer he could cock. "Don't fucking make me count."

Party Poison slowly raised his hands. "This isn't over, Destroya," he whispered violently as he stepped away. Desi was appalled. The Killjoys compared her to him? He was so known for being relaxed, laid back and funny. The Party Poison she saw with the Fabulous Killjoys was the Killjoy she'd been hearing about for three years. His voice singing over the radio was what haunted her for the two weeks it took her to decide to leave. But the Party Poison that talked to Desi? He was not the Fabulous Killjoy she wanted to be compared with and related to. He was vicious and close-minded and generally gave her the impression of someone who should run with Lithium Razor.

That Killjoy was one psycho guy, who killed Dracs more for the pleasure of death than anything. The night he had challenged Rasta Blasta to a shoot-out over her, Rasta and Desi had climbed on the bike and run like hell.

Kobra Kid lowered his gun. "Wise life choice, brother. If we had to wait for you to recover while we're taking care of about three hundred Killjoys, give or take several dozen, well, brother, that little scenario would have been a pain in our asses. And, don't forget that we're also planning the biggest assault on BLI since 2019, even bigger than that." As Kobra Kid replaced the gun into his hip holster, he approached Desi. She reached her hand behind her, searching for Rasta's. She gave it a little squeeze, and looked over her shoulder.

"I think this is a conversation I need to have alone. Go check on Shasta's crew, okay?" The RV had unloaded right as the scene between Desi and Party Poison started. So, at least thirty people had witnessed the family dispute. Luckily enough, the stupider Killjoys had been too busy figuring out that Party and Kobra were brothers to realize she was their sister. And the smarter ones were too busy rolling their eyes at the less intelligent Killjoys and muttering things like 'Duh' and 'No, shit'.

"Whatever you want, Dizzy." Rasta pulled away and headed towards the Mustang, where Shasta was leaning against the driver side door talking shop with Candy.

"So, Desi, I guess I never really got to meet you, since Party was being an ass, and then we were kicking the crap out of each other." He looked at his hand, which was covered with a dusty biker glove like the hands of every other Fabulous Killjoy, and shrugged, extending it to her. "I'm Kobra Kid, your brother."

Desi smiled and took Kobra's hand. "It's nice to meet you, and sorry about the hysterics this afternoon. I've been having a rough few weeks. I'm Desi Destroya."

"I'm sorry about Party. He was close to Mom, and he took it hard when she started taking Medication. I was close to her, too, but I remember her the way she was before." Kobra looked down, contemplating, and suddenly snapped his head back up. "I'm sorry; you never got to know her like that. I forgot."

"It's okay," Desi replied. "I'm proud to be related to you guys, even though she wasn't much of a mother type to me. BL/ind life is like being a robot."

"I'm sorry." Kobra said, again.

"Don't apologize," she said. "Some Killjoy saved my life, and now I'm happy. I get to sleep under stars every night. And, even though Party Poison hasn't been great to me personally, I've heard enough about him as he is when he's not acting on the pain from his mother's 'death' that I can still be proud of him, somewhat."

"That's good, I guess." Kobra said, and then went silent.

After a few moments, he looked at Desi again, excited. "Can I see your blaster? I've heard about it, but…" he trailed off.

"It's just not the same, is it?" Desi asked, leaning down to flick the safety on before she pulled the gun from her holster. She handed it to him, and his eyes roved over it like he was looking at Excalibur.

"I never would have thought of this design," he said. "And, orange? Why orange? It's like a freakish color, but no one ever uses it." Kobra Kid traced his finger over the electric blue lightning bolt running down the barrel. His thumb rubbed over the circle emblem on the hilt, and he was immediately distracted. "A winking star-eyed skull? The symbolism on people's clothes and vehicles and blasters are crazy and meaningful and revealing, I know. But, I'm fascinated with yours. You grew up in Battery City. Your imagination was repressed." He looked her in the eye, a little mischievous. "It must be Helena."

Desi's eyebrows rose. "Pardon?"

"She was our grandmother on our mother's side. Taught Party and I everything we know about art and passion. Her blood runs strong in you, that has got to be it. I don't think any other mushy would have run. They would have reported the frequency and the radio and tried to convict the Killjoy responsible for 'civic disruption'."

"I did the skull because the day I painted that emblem, I killed my first Drac. I wasn't proud. But Rasta distracted me by telling me about all these old clichés and figures of speech his mother used to use. I loved 'stars in your eyes'. I think that's when I fell for him. Ironic, huh?"

"Not at all, actually. It's wonderful." Kobra's eyes suddenly clouded, as if with bad memories.

"You've lost someone, haven't you?" Desi asked. "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me," she quickly added.

Kobra waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. You're my little sister: free pass for curiosity." He looked off into the sunset, partially somewhere else. "I lost two people, actually. I was engaged to this girl on campus right when BL/ind took over. She had a brain tumor, so they conned her into being on one of the first trials. And, I lost someone in 2019. She got exterminated in the First Assault, a little known attack that happened right after the guys and I 'came back from the dead', so to speak. She had just gotten pregnant, so you could say that makes three people. All four of us lost people in the next few months. If we had still believed in God, we would have said that happened because we went on a suicide mission for the love of Manic Phantom. God didn't let us die because apparently, we have to save the world. But, like all the great comics, the heroes always fight alone.

"I don't know if that explains it," Kobra said. "I don't believe it, because to me, God died the day BL/ind was born. But it helps Jet Star. Higher purpose is the best way for some people to explain why they have to lose a person."

Desi looked at Rasta, who happened to glance her way at the same time. He smiled, and her heart did a flip-flop inside her chest. "I couldn't lose Rasta Blasta. He's saved my life so many times… He's the only hope for me." Killjoys don't cry until they've got something to cry for, Desi reminded herself, forcing back the start of a tear.

"I sure as hell hope you don't have to go through that pain, Desi. Party almost died when he lost his woman. He went off at a ludicrous pace for Battery City in the Trans Am. He was planning to crash in and take as many Dracs and armed BL/ind workers as possible down with him. It's an absolute fucking miracle that he ran out of gas five miles out, and we were able to catch him in the van."

"I'd tell him I've been in his shoes. But he hates me right now, and would just say I haven't, because I got him back alive." Desi said. "But, at least I can begin to understand how you feel. I almost killed a Killjoy this morning, my nerves were so raw. It's just too much to run solo when you're grieving. But the only choice I had was to find Lithium Razor. And he would have just jumped at the chance if he saw Rasta as out of the picture."

"Haven't heard about him much," Kobra said. "Tell me about him."

"He and Rasta saved me in my first clap with Dracs. Lithium actually wanted to shoot me himself when he noticed I was from Battery City. Rasta had two arguments. One, that BL/ind would probably create a better spy, and two, I was obviously a Killjoy. I was starving, and bedraggled. So Rasta saved my life twice in five minutes." Later, Desi had discovered that until Lithium had almost killed a Killjoy in cold blood, Rasta had been a lot like Lithium, full of rage, only without the mental imbalance.

"Why'd you split from his group?" Kobra asked.

"Rasta and I had just gotten together, and Lithium wanted me for himself, just because someone else had me. He challenged Rasta to a shootout. We left." Desi sighed. That night had been scary, because for about two minutes, she had thought Rasta would have done it. "Regardless of the fact that neither of them own me or have me, Lithium was out of place. That was the second time I'd seen him plan to murder a Killjoy for no good reason. I told Rasta that we had to go. Being the guy he is, he just stood up and walked away with me and never looked back. No matter how psycho Lithium was, Rasta grew up with him. So he stuck around. But he left for me."

"Sounds like a pretty great Killjoy, your man." Kobra smiled. "The kind of guy I'd want for my little sister." Desi loved that Kobra was being such a brother.

"You really wanted a little sister as a kid, didn't you?" she asked.

Kobra laughed. "Yeah. Party always had my back growing up, and I always wanted to be a superhero." He gave her a sheepish look. "I read too many comics."

Desi couldn't help but laugh at Kobra Kid. "You are a superhero."

"I don't feel like one." he replied.

"You, Fun Ghoul, Party Poison, and Jet Star kept me sane in the two weeks before I ran, and the week I spent alone and starving in the desert."

"Killjoys all have stories like that, Desi. But I don't feel like I live up to the image you all make of me."

"And Batman felt he was worthy of praise? He was the Dark Knight. He did the shady stuff so the cops didn't have to." Desi questioned.

"I guess you have a point," Kobra relented. "Wait, where did you learn about comics?" he asked.

"Nuclear Spider, another guy who ran around with Lithium Razor, was big on comics. He was one of the not-crazy people. Silent Apocalypse, he was ruthless, silent, and scary."

"That group had a lot of impact on you, didn't they?" Kobra asked.

"Look at it this way. I was practically a full-grown baby. Those guys raised me, psycho and all."

A high-pitched whistle interrupted the conversation. Desi turned to look for the sound and realized it was Fun Ghoul. "Killjoys, LISTEN UP!"

13