(Well, hello! So, I know it's been a ridiculously long time since I updated... (I know, I'm bad...) but I'm very sorry about that! I am aiming to get more writing done from now on, which is why I've decided to pick up this story again! I hope you enjoy the chapter. Most of it was written 18 months ago when my writing style was a little less polished, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!)
Chapter Two: War Wounds
"Guys? Are you there? Shit!" Fun Ghoul cried into the communicator, dodging a ray blast that missed his head by inches, singeing a few hairs on the way past. The whole store was a mass of thick, grey smoke, and it was hard to see past the end of his nose, let alone where Poison had gone. He dropped the communicator in his haste to duck the incoming blast, but he sure as hell was not going to try and search for it in here while the smoke was so thick. The dracs had used a fucking smoke bomb to confuse them, and it was working like a charm.
Party Poison had been right. It was all a fucking trap. The store had been a like a Venus Fly Trap, and like the flies, they had been stupid enough to wander right into it.
They'd been waiting for them the moment Party had stepped through the door.
Draculoids.
Lots of them.
This could only mean one thing: Korse had planned this attack. The exterminator had to be around here somewhere. He was the only one who could organise something like this, which was worrying in itself. This meant that Korse knew they were desperate. This was not good. Not good at all.
Ghoul had seen the flash of light through the sheet of glass in the store's windows. The blast had smashed into a shelf, scattering singed BLI-Approved magazines all over the floor. The magazines were filled with news from Battery City, advertisements for BLI products, and other useless information that the drugged up Towners would no doubt soak up like sponges. Ghoul had, of course, realised what was happening instantly, and sprang into action. He had dashed across the dirt road to help Party, and in doing so, had found himself in the middle of a very dangerous battle.
He felt blind as he crouched behind some sort of display booth, looking around desperately for Poison – a pointless effort really. Party's hair was probably the brightest thing in the place, and if he could not see his hair, he sure as hell wasn't going to have an easy job finding him. Only moments ago, he had had the red-head in his sights, and then a drac had spotted them both. Ghoul was talking on the communicator at the time, so he only caught a glimpse of the drac, before a ray gun blast shot straight towards them. He barely had enough time to push Poison out of the way, and dodge the blast himself. The damn flash was bright enough to blind him as it sped past his arm, just catching the edge of his jacket. Party Poison had gave a surprised gasp and fallen to the floor, and that was the last he had seen of him.
"PARTY POISON!" Ghoul bellowed as loud as he could manage, stinging his throat. He listened for any sign of a response over the din of smashing glass, ray gun blasts, and destructive bangs. There was nothing. He tried again, swearing loudly when no response came.
He clutched his ray gun close to his chest, keeping his finger poised on the trigger, ready to fire as soon as he could. He spotted a blur of black and white move in the distance, and fired a few shots in that general direction. He got no confirmation whether the shots hit their target. He just needed to find Party, and then they could find their way out of there. He was too afraid to fire totally into the unknown, just in case he hit Party Poison.
Ghoul shimmied along the display booth, trying to avoid the shards of broken glass on the floor. He kept his eyes peeled, but he was having little luck whatsoever. Fun Ghoul heard a shriek of pain, and immediately scrambled to his feet. Could it be Poison? He stuck close to the display stand, his eyes scanning for moving colours in the fog.
"Fuck," Ghoul swore to himself, "Can't fucking see past the end of my nose. Party, where the fuck are you?" He muttered to himself, trying to calm himself down and stop the panic that was overwhelming him. The cussing seemed to make him feel more at ease. It was part of his language, all the killjoys had learned to talk like that. It was rebellious; BLI droids would not even curse. It was against protocol. He ducked slightly, allowing himself to peer around the corner, only to spot a drac. The killjoy took aim and fired, taking delight in watching the drac crumple to the floor.
The burst of joy did not last long though, as a depressing thought sprang to his mind.
One down, a million to go, he thought glumly.
And then he spotted exactly what he was searching for; a glimpse of red amongst the black, the white and the smoke.
The leader of the killjoys was walking through the smoke as if it was not there in a cocky yet admirably way. His customised yellow gun was poised in his hand, and Ghoul was sure he could see a triumphant grin on his face. The shots began firing in Party's direction; he simply turned, dodged and fired, weaving in between the blasts effortlessly like it was second-nature.
Ghoul could not help but stare in awe for a few moments.
"FUN GHOUL?" Party Poison bellowed, firing a few shots in the opposite direction.
Fun Ghoul scrambled to his feet, running in a defensive crouch towards his friend. He gave Party Poison's arm a sharp tug to let him know he was there, and then yanked him out of the firing line and towards the cover of the shelves.
A shot ricocheted off of something and hit the shelves above them both, sending tin cans hurtling towards them. Ghoul gave a surprised cry as one hit him squarely on the head, causing the surprised killjoy to swear loudly. Party Poison smirked and suppressed a laugh at Ghoul's sudden cry.
"Don't give up, they're here somewhere!" A deep and horribly familiar voice bellowed over the chaos.
The voice made both of the Killjoys smiles slip. They felt their jaws drop as the two turned to stare at each other in horror.
The Exterminator was there, leading the attack. They should have known that the smoke bomb was too clever for those mindless Draculoids.
The bangs and crashes stopped, and all fell silent, even the smoke seemed to clear slightly. Everything was still and quiet. Poison and Ghoul were momentarily frozen, their mouths open in shock.
The killjoys both pulled their ray guns close to their chests, keeping their eyes and ears peeled for any hint of where the bastard might be.
"Spread out," Korse ordered in a snarling voice, "Those maggots are here somewhere... Fire at anything that moves! Those killjoys rats spend all their time creeping around, they're here somewhere. I know it. We're not leaving till I have them."
He was close. He must be. His voice was so clear and distinct.
Fun Ghoul looked desperately at Party Poison, hoping he had a bright idea.
The leader gave an apologetic smile, and for a split second, Ghoul felt a flash of confusion. It was only when Poison grabbed a hold of Ghoul's hand that he realised what the 'bright idea' was. Poison flew to his feet, yanking Ghoul to his, and the pair broke out into a desperate run. They bolted in a straight line, seeming to be heading in no direction particular. It was a foolish idea, but Poison knew that they couldn't take down Korse and all his dracs by themselves. Their best bet was to run, and to keep running.
"THERE!" Korse screamed at once, like an angry child.
The sound of ray guns being fired could be heard from behind them, and neither Ghoul nor Poison had the courage to look back to see just how close they were. One of the blasts caught the back Ghoul's foot, causing him to lose his footing and stumble forwards. He howled as the blast burnt through the tough material of his boots, stinging his heel like a thousand tiny needles. He managed to recover after his stumble, gripping onto Party tightly to assist in helping him to regain his balance.
"FIRE! FIRE!" Korse bellowed furiously whilst stomping his feet, and a shot flew past the redhead's ear, narrowly missing him. He heard his hair sizzle.
The smoke grew clearer as they ran, and quite suddenly, without warning, Party Poison fired a blast directly ahead of them, which hit the unseen window of the store, sending smoke pouring out of the room.
"Damn!" Korse screamed and howled. They were getting away, and he knew it. Korse let out a frustrated and angry growl at the poor aim of the dracs, and took one of the guns for himself.
"Jump!" Party Poison shouted, feeling another blast graze his beloved hair.
Even as their feet reached the dirt, which was covered in scattered bits of broken glass, the two killjoys still kept going, and darted into an alleyway on the opposite side of the dusty street. Their eyes stung from the sudden burst of harsh sunlight, and were silently pleased once they reached the shade of the alley. Besides, they both needed a momentary rest to steady their pounding hearts.
"You useless morons! AFTER THEM!" They heard Korse screech from inside the store.
Party Poison kept his gun in his hand and pressed himself against the wall, peering at the store which was still emitting smoke. The redhead glanced at his friend, who was leaning against the wall, and his face fell.
"Shit, Ghoul, you okay?"
Ghoul looked at him in surprise. "What?"
"Don't be a tough guy, your cheek is bleeding pretty bad, are you okay? Do you need help?" Poison flew over to his friend, lifting his chin, inspecting the damage.
Ghoul seemed just as surprised as Poison did to reach up and feel his face wet with blood beneath his mask and a shallow but nasty cut along his cheek.
"How did you do that? Did they hit you?" Poison asked, peering back over behind the wall to check for dracs.
"I don't know." Ghoul mumbled, not wanting to make a fuss about it. "I think it was the glass."
"Shit, Ghoul, I'm sorry..." Party Poison did look genuinely concerned, but Fun Ghoul didn't care. They were surrounded by dracs, not to mention Korse the fucking exterminator! They didn't have time for idle chit chat!
"Let's just get outta here. They're gonna be on us in a sec." Fun Ghoul reminded him urgently.
"Yeah!" Party Poison seemed to then snap back into his usual authoritative role and his face turned sour. "Your mask is torn. Clean yourself up, quick." His hand dug into his pocket, pulling out a bit of cloth that he flung at Ghoul, while he watched the Draculoids come pouring out of the store, stumbling over the glass and running in the opposite direction.
Ghoul caught the cloth and then yanked off his torn mask and touched his left cheek gingerly, feeling the warm wetness on his fingertips. He swore in hushed tones as he saw for himself the gleaming blood that now stained his hands.
Party tossed Ghoul his communicator, "Message the others," He whispered, "Get them to come pick us up, or we aren't gonna get out of this. And we gotta get you to the Doc, think you're cheek's gonna need stitches."
Ghoul ran his fingers over the gash in his cheek, and was surprised he had not felt it. He supposed it was because of all the adrenaline pumping through his body that he had not felt any pain. He roughly wiped his face with the cloth, stuffing it back in his pocket after a few seconds, frowning in his annoyance.
"Fantastic, I've scarred my face and torn my fucking mask." Ghoul muttered sarcastically as he readied the communicator.
"Your face wasn't pretty to begin with, so it doesn't matter." Party smirked at Ghoul, who turned away with a scowl, bringing the device close to his lips.
"Jet, Kobra, you there?" He whispered lowly, wiping his bloody fingers on his jeans. "We're in fucking trouble, get the Trans Am over here, but be careful... Korse-"
"BLI BASTARDS!"
Ghoul's sentence was cut short by Party Poison bellowing and firing two noisy shots at a Drac, who gave a howl of pain and crumbled into the dust.
"Tell them to hurry." Poison cast over his shoulder in a lazy way, dodging behind the wall to avoid a blast.
"Hurry up! We're really in trouble here." Ghoul spoke into the communicator over the crash of fired shots.
Ghoul took a quick peep past the wall to see a shot bounce off the brickwork an inch from his head, and quickly jumped back again.
"Shit..." Party Poison muttered, "Haven't seen Korse come out of the store yet..."
"The motherfucker's probably ran away with his dick between his legs. Coward." Ghoul spat into the dirt.
"Ghoul!" Jet Stars response came squeaking through the communicator, "We've got the town in sight, where can we pick you up from?"
"Do you see all that fucking smoke?" Ghoul whispered quietly into the communicator.
"FUCK!" Party Poison gave a yell as a shot flew past his arm. "We gotta move! Quick" He pushed his friend further down the alley, towards a wooden fence.
"Opposite side to the smoke!" Ghoul called urgently into the device, stumbling while he tried to climb the fence and use the communicator at the same time. Poison covered him before quickly pulling himself over the tall fence too. A bazooka blast flew against the fence with an almighty bang which sent wood splinters flying in all directions. Ghoul and Party threw themselves against the sand, shielding their bodies from wood chippings, but the dracs were hot on their heels, and they didn't have time to waste.
Springing upright again, the two pressed their backs against each other, and held their guns ready, just in case a Drac appeared unexpectedly. There was a gleaming yellow object in the distance, advancing towards them quickly.
Yet, no drac appeared from behind the shattered fence.
In fact, there wasn't a drac in sight!
"What the fuck?!" Fun Ghoul exclaimed, confused.
"I don't like this..." Party said quietly, "This escape is too easy. Korse has something planned..."
"Kobra, Grace and Jet will be here soon, and then we can get the fuck out of here." Ghoul tried reassuring him, but his words did little to calm his leader. In truth, he was also suspicious, and his mind was running over Korse's possible whereabouts.
Korse was dangerous to them all. Even if he managed to get just one killjoy, he would surely be able to capture them all. The killjoys all had a weakness in common: each other. They could not stand to think of each other suffering in captivity, and Korse knew this. He knew if one of them was caught, they would, without even a second thought; move in to rescue their fallen comrade. Korse was pure evil, and that was precisely why the Killjoy's feared him as much as they did.
What had been the yellow blob in the distance a few minutes ago had now become the Trans Am, speeding through the desert sand at an alarming pace. It would be with them in a few seconds, providing the two killjoys with the getaway they needed. They began to move away from the town, keeping their eyes on it to watch for Dracs, but they seemed to have vanished.
"They just blew up a fucking fence we were hiding behind... why the fuck haven't they followed?" Fun Ghoul lowered his gun slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder to see their beloved vehicle grind to a halt a few feet away from them.
Party Poison went to hop in, but Ghoul grabbed his shoulder, halting him where he stood. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Ghoul held up his finger to silence him.
"Do you hear that?" He asked, gesturing for Jet to turn off the ignition for a second. He obliged, looking confused, and horrified at Ghoul's bloodied face.
It was faint, but definite. The sound of revving car engines could be heard coming from nearby. Ghoul and Party looked at each other in confusion for a split second.
Three BLI cars burst from the city, leaving dust clouds in their wake. They turned sharply and started speeding towards the Trans Am. Dracs hung out of the window with ray guns at the ready, all pointed at the complete set of Killjoys.
"GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!" Party bellowed, yanking a frozen Fun Ghoul out of his shocked state and pushed him into the back seat of the car, and then climbed in himself.
Jet Star turned the keys in the ignition and the engine sprang to life, roaring as Jet slammed his foot down on the pedal instantly. Party Poison weaved through the vehicles interior so he could clamber onto the front seat, knocking Jet Star's shoulder with his boot as he passed him. "Sorry Jet," He apologised, and knelt on the front seat so his head was poking out over the top of the car. "Shit, they're fucking close..." He reported, and slunk back down into the front seat.
Despite the urgency of any given situation, Party Poison never forgot his manners.
The Trans Am was soaring as fast as the car would accelerate, but BLI had gotten a head start.
Jet Star glanced nervously at the fast approaching vehicles in the mirror. "They're gonna catch us..." He muttered nervously, eyeing Party Poison.
Party Poison turned to look at Grace, who was sat on Kobra Kid's lap, looking worried and teary.
"Gracie, baby," Party said soothingly to her, turning in his seat to look her in the eyes and hold her hand, "I need Kid and Ghoul's help right now. Can you send a message to the Doc and tell him Ghoul needs stitches so we'll be at the base soon?"
Grace nodded and climbed off of Kobra's lap. She sat between the two Killjoys and Kobra wordlessly handed her his Communicator to use. Three blasts were fired from the fast-approaching Dracs in the cars behind them. One bounced off the back of the Trans Am, and the Killjoy's all growled angrily.
"How dare those fucking pieces of shit fire at our car..." Kobra put on his Killjoy helmet and Party Poison readjusted his own mask that rested over his eyes.
"Fuck you both." Ghoul whined as he held up his torn mask in dismay.
"Worry about your face and not your mask." Grace said sternly, eyeing the split in his cheek. Ghoul scowled.
Party nodded at Kobra Kid and then at Fun Ghoul, ignoring his complaint and Grace's comment. "Hit whatever you can." He ordered the Killjoys, who gave looks of determination as they leant out of the car to aim their personalised ray guns at the three black vehicles behind them.
Jet Star had gained some speed now, and was able to keep them a fair distance away from their attackers. This meant that they were less likely to be hit by the Dracs, but it also meant that they had less chance of hitting any Dracs.
Fun Ghoul aimed for the driver in the car coming up on his left. His blast bounced off the windshield, causing the Drac driving to seemingly panic and the car swerved slightly, slowing itself down. Kobra aimed for the Drac hanging out of the window in the middle car. He managed to hit his sleeve, and the Drac dropped his gun, and recoiled inside, howling in pain. Kobra punched the air, "Take that!" He shouted triumphantly. Party Poison was firing at whatever flesh was exposed out of the black BLI cars.
All of the vehicles were speeding along the desert sand. Party Poison gave a shriek of surprise as a blast bounced off the car, firing straight towards him. He dropped back inside the car quickly, avoiding the blast.
Fun Ghoul was firing rapidly, aiming for whatever he could hit now. He could see Korse gritting his teeth angrily through the windshield. Very slowly and deliberately, Fun Ghoul shot him a grin and winked, before retreating back into the car as well for a second and bellowing over Grace's attempts to reach the Doctor, "We can't hold them off forever, Jet. You think our old gal can outrun them?" He called over the whistling wind.
Jet Star turned his head slightly, "I don't think so, Ghoul. We're low on gas and this thing needs a bunch of new parts..."
"I'm readin' you loud and clear Killjoys!" Came the welcoming voice of Doctor Death Defying through the Communicator. "We'll send reinforcements your way soon to give you tumbleweeds the chance to tumble on outta there. Think you can hold 'em off for a few more minutes?"
Party Poison took the Communicator, "Doc, we're heading for the base. Ghoul's cut his face open – needs stitches! Are there supplies of gas there? We're low."
The Communicator went silent for a moment, and Poison began to wonder if they had lost their signal, but his voice rang through the air a few moments later. "Affirmative. Rollers are on the way. Bee's too. Dr D. out."
Party Poison immediately thrust the Communicator back towards Grace and began to fire at the cars. "Distract 'em!" He called to his fellow Killjoys, who hung out of the windows once more. The leader punched the air triumphantly as he hit the tyre on Korse's car, causing the car to become out of control and swerve towards the car on its' right. The front of Korse's car collided with the back of the other car, turning it backwards. Now only one car remained chasing them.
Kobra Kid chuckled as the two vehicles that had fallen behind were desperately trying to correct themselves and join the chase, but their engines did not have enough horse power catch them up now. He saw Korse getting out of the car, striding furiously over to his Dracs and screaming at their faces. There was a whiz as a flash of light hit the distracted Kobra Kid. He screamed in pain as the blast burnt his hand, causing him to instantly release his grip on his customised gun. He watched it drop into the sand and disappear in the cloud of dust that followed the Trans Am. Still howling, he recoiled inside the van, clutching at his hand, which was emitting smoke. The blast had burnt straight through his leather glove and sent a searing hot pain through his fingers.
"KOBRA!" Grace cried, moving to unbutton his leather glove at the wrist and inspect the damage. He whimpered as she gently removed the glove.
At that moment, everything seemed to happen at once.
Party roared after he caught sight of his friend's pain, sending more shots towards the following car, followed by more furious shots from Fun Ghoul. "STOP HURTING MY FRIENDS!"
Jet Star slammed his foot down on the pedal, making the engine whine in protest and causing them all to jolt forwards as the backup arrived.
Two brightly coloured cars, coated in a multitude of different images and words by graffiti, arrived, their engines revving loudly as they shot towards the Trans Am. As Jet zoomed off, he passed the two cars, gaining a wink from one of the female rebels inside the car to his left.
Party Poison lowered his gun, giving a thumbs-up to the passing rebel cars, then slowly he raised his hand, high, above his head, lifting his middle finger triumphantly.
"FUCK YOU, BLI BASTARDS!" He bellowed, aiming his finger towards the car behind them, which had fallen behind now. The two coloured rebel cars had zoomed straight past the BLI car, aiming their guns inside the window and shooting the Drac's inside dead in a single shot. Party Poison could not help but to admire their courage.
"One thing you can say about the rebels is that they've got some fucking balls." He said proudly as he sat back down in the car. The redhead turned in his seat, "How you holding up, Kid?" He asked kindly, eyeing his scorched hand.
"Your hands looking pretty beat up Kid, you okay?" Fun Ghoul asked, before casting a glance at Kobra Kid's hand, which looked simply disgusting. There were holes where the gloves had not protected him at all and the blast had simply burnt through the skin, leaving bloody dents and dead skin hanging around them.
"I dropped my gun." Kobra muttered miserably, giving a look of total and utter despair.
"Don't worry, Kobra!" Grace called cheerfully and ruffled his hair, "We'll get you a new one!"
Kobra Kid sighed, put Party Poison rolled his eyes. "You've had your hand practically burnt to cinders and you're worried about your gun?"
Kid nodded miserably.
"Dude, we've got bigger problems. We'd better use the time those rebels have given us and hurry back to base."
XXX
Ghoul tapped his knee with his index finger nervously, trying to find something that could distract him from what was happening to him. He always found these experiences very unpleasant, and this was no different. He pursed his lips together tightly, humming a tuneless melody to try and keep his mind off the needle that was weaving in and out of his face.
"Oh, don't be such a baby. It's not even bad." Poison scolded, although there was a comforting and playful hint in his tone.
"Can't help it." Ghoul responded, keeping his eyes on the floor. He could feel his friend gently tugging the needle, which in turn, caused the thread attached to it to lightly tug from his face. He could feel it pulling slightly, and gagged.
"Hurry up, Poison, you know I hate hospitals. Can't believe you're making me have stitches." Ghoul grumbled.
Party rolled his eyes. He was almost finished sewing now. The gash that ran from the side of Ghouls mouth and across his cheek had definitely needed attention. But he had hastily insisted that he was fine, knowing what Poison would order him to get it checked out. The burn on his foot was all but forgotten. It would heal soon enough anyway. It was minor. Luckily, his shoe and sock had protected him from most of the burn, it was only red and irritated now.
"Well I hate needles. They make me feel sick, but I still have to stick one in your stupid face to do this, so shut up." Party Poison reminded him. His voice was surprisingly calm.
Fun Ghoul felt another tug, but inwardly, he was pleased. His leader had picked up a needle and was giving him stitches, just to make Ghoul feel more comfortable.
Then another tug, and another. Party Poison cut the thread with a pair of surgical scissors and stepped back. "There, all done. So you can stop whining now, you big girl."
Fun Ghoul lifted a finger to his face, trailing over the rough stitches with his fingertips cautiously. He barely felt any pain, since Party Poison had practically pinned him down and shoved a needle full of anaesthetic in his arm. "Thanks." Ghoul muttered, although Poison knew he wasn't entirely grateful for what he had just put him through.
They were back at their base, in the hospital wing. The hospitals beds were filled with injured rebels, making Ghoul anxious enough as it was, without the additional guilt of rebels dying around him.
The nurses and doctors could barely get enough medical supplies to tend to every rebel that passed through the doors. Some patients were lucky, some were not.
A ward of the hospital was reserved for the poor souls who had suffered torture by one of the Exterminators. Usually Korse did the dirty work. Ghoul liked to steer clear of the place; it made him feel uneasy. The patients were sometimes slightly insane - driven mad by
the intense torture they had suffered thanks to some of the Better-Living drugs, and that made Ghoul want to run a mile. Jet Star, however, liked to visit the ward occasionally. He merely commented that it reminded him of the reasons why they fought against Better
Living Industries. His kindness was well-known among the nurses that worked in the ward, and he was considered somewhat of a hero for it.
Kobra Kid was also receiving medical attention for his singed hand. Doctor Death had seen to it that he had inspected Kid's hand himself. He wanted to make sure that his Killjoy would still be able to hold his gun, but more importantly, he wanted to check he was okay.
"You're gonna be fine, Kid." He said, patting him lightly on the back as he watched another doctor bandage up Kid's hand. Dr Death handed him a small pot of ointment. "It'll help it to heal."
Kobra Kid smiled. "Thanks Doc. "
At that, Party and Ghoul walked in to the same room, and Dr Death gave a sympathetic smile when he saw Ghouls stitched face.
"I reckon that'll scar, kiddo. I guess that's a good thing though, chicks dig scars." Dr Death winked, also patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. Ghoul smiled at that, but the numbness in his face soon made him stop.
Dr Death was soon serious again.
"We got word back from those rebels that helped you out. One of the cars got torched by Korse, two of the rebels from the other car managed to get out. The rest didn't make it."
The Killjoys eyes dropped to the floor, wordlessly all communicating without even needing to look at each other. They could all feel the pain and guilt that was pressing down heavily upon them all. More lives lost for their cause. More lives, lost for their foolishness. More lives that needed to be avenged. Better Living Industries had to pay for what they had done, but more importantly, the killjoys needed to stop being so careless. They had gone in that store, knowing it was dangerous, knowing that it was probably a trap. And now more rebels had died because of the "fabulous" killjoys. They had all come to realise that they weren't so fabulous after all.
"It's my fault. It was my idea." Party Poison said softly, his eyes becoming deep and hollow.
Dr Death Defying sighed, "Come on, dude, don't you blame yourself. These rebels volunteer to be the ones who do this. They risk their lives for you. They want to do it, because they know how important you guys are. They're the ones who're happy to die for your cause. Besides, you guys were desperate. Any good leader would have done the same thing. Don't beat yourself up about this."
Party Poison gave a tiny nod, but the others could see he was not convinced.
Dr Death Defying gave them a small smile after that. "The good news is, that once again, you fuckers have faced Korse and lived to tell the tale. That's something to be proud of."
"Yeah, and now we've gotta focus on getting back out in the zones. I've just heard a rebel tell me that there's a diner nearby that's still got some food leftover. We're gonna head over there and see what's left." Poison said, returning back to his leader-like state.
"Just take what you need, and then get out of here. I've got news from our spies in Battery City. Mainly more Wanted posters going up, but Korse's patrols are going to get much tighter, and there's gonna be more Dracs out in the zones. You guys take care of yourselves. And don't let them catch you, for fucks sake. If you guys go down, there isn't a hope in hell for the rest of us." Dr Death smiled.
It was a heavy burden for them to carry. The killjoys knew that the hopes and dreams of all those who weren't drugged up by BLI were resting on them. That was precisely the reason that they kept going.
Because they were the Killjoys, and if they didn't put a stop to Korse, NewsAGoGo, and Better Living and all their bullshit, no one would.
XXX
(Could you drop me a review? Just a simple "yes" will do if you don't know what to write – I'd like to find out whether the story is worth continuing or not – if no one is going to read it, I can focus on another one instead! Thanks – Misfit! Xxx)