Danger Days- Mastas of Ravencroft
Title: Danger Days- The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys
Author: 6_pack_apathy
Pairing: Gerard/Ray Mikey/Frank
Rating: R
POV: 3rd- Gerard-centric
Summary: Our fabulous Killjoys discover that art is the weapon and use it to take down Better Living Industries
Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction, none of the characters or events are true.
Author's Note: I'm sorry for the long wait - I'd live to give a HUGE shoutout to draamalaama for helping me through my writer's block!
Warnings: language, violence, sex
Previous Chapters:
Prologue- Look Alive, Sunshine
Chapter One- Art is the Weapon
Chapter Two- Bullet Proof Heart
Chapter Three- S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W
Chapter Four- The Kids From Yesterday
Chapter Five- Vampire Money
Chapter Six- Planetary GO!
Chapter Seven- Party Poison
Chapter Eight- The Only Hope For Me Is You
Chapter Nine- DESTROYA
Chapter Ten- Summertime
11
Over the next few days there was no change in the way Fun Ghoul and Kobra Kid acted around each other, much to Poison’s relief. The two of them mostly still kept to themselves only now they would take the time to help teach Grace how to shoot her gun and how to throw a solid punch.
Poison still spent most of his time painting everything in sight until the inside of the Diner looked like a unicorn had thrown up.
“That’s what Battery City needs - some color,” Dr. D said one day as he wheeled himself behind the counter to search for something to eat.
Poison looked up from his latest doodle with a surprised look on his face. “You lived in Battery City?”
“I wouldn’t say I lived there,” D started carefully, “I helped Korse build it; but I left before all the walls came up. I’ve only been back twice since then.”
This was new. Despite Dr. Death-Defy’s knowledge of the city, Poison had never thought that the older man had been a part of it. In fact, he had assumed that all of the Killjoy’s were tumbleweeds with the exception of Jet Star. “What do you mean you went back?”
D chuckled, obviously amused by Poison’s bewilderment. The redhead had seemed so unflappable lately that it was nice to see some other expression on his face. “The first time was against my will. Korse sent his first Scarecrow Unit after me.” he saw that Poison only looked more confused at this information so he explained, “I helped build that place. I knew all the ins and outs. He didn’t want that information getting out to someone even crazier than him - especially when the walls hadn’t come up yet. It was a much more dangerous time, anyone could’ve overthrown him.”
Poison nodded, it made sense, Korse must’ve been a lot more vulnerable then.
“So I was captured by the Scarecrows and interviewed on what I knew about the city.-“
“What do you mean by ‘interviewed’?” Poison hadn’t failed to notice the spiteful tone in Dr. D’s voice.
“How do you think I lost my first leg?" De knocked on his left leg and it emitted a hollow sound. "After I found a prosthetic I could walk, until I lost my other one, but for a while I was immobile. Korse gave me this chair and let me go when he was satisfied.”
Poison’s hands were curling into fists. Korse had meant to kill D that first time - there was no way he could’ve thought a crippled man would survive out in the heat and radiation.
“Cherri had been watching Show Pony for me and met the first Party Poison while I was captive. The three of them found me and we started making plans to break back into Battery City one more time before the last wall came up.”
That had to have been right before Gerard and Mikey had reached the city. They’d gotten there just after it’s completion. “Why did you go back,” Poison asked, “for supplies?”
“That,” D admitted, “and to kidnap the Scarecrows. I was younger then, I didn’t care about what the people of Battery City were being subjected to - all I wanted was revenge for what they’d done to me. So we took three Scarecrows and killed the other three.”
“There were only six?”
“At the time, yes. I don’t think Korse wanted an army back then but these guys were a lot tougher. The six of them alone were able to keep an entire city in order - and back then there wasn’t so much surveillance, people were more rebellious - they were ruthless.”
Poison felt almost like a child being told a bedtime story. He’d had no idea that D had been through so much or even that such a rebellion had ever taken place. “What did you do to the survivors?”
“I wanted to torture them. Shred their legs like they did to me and then send them back to Korse,” D sounded ashamed of himself, “but we found out that they had been planning their own rebellion against Korse - they hated what they were doing to people. They weren’t scared of me, Party Poison, or Cherri - and Pony was too young at the time to have been involved - if they had been I don’t think I would have believed them.
“They told us about Operation Killjoy: a plan to blow up the Better Living research facilities. If we could destroy any further corporate development then Korse would lose power over Battery City. After they told us the details of their plans the three of us agreed to help and spent months getting ready to strike.”
“But you didn’t destroy the research facilities,” Poison observed. They were underground miles away from the city and rumor was that the research bunkers were indestructible now.
“No, Cherri betrayed us. I hadn’t known why she was in the desert - that she was infertile and wasn’t granted citizenship into Battery City. Cherri was never helping us to overthrow the city, she was trying to use us for a way in. We dusted her before she could get into the city but not before she’d given Korse our names.”
“So that’s why…” Poison mused quietly to himself. There was only one more question that was bothering him about the story. “Who were the Scarecrows that told you about Operation Killjoy?”
It looked like D was about to answer before the diner door swung open.
Kobra and Ghoul were walking in, covered in dust, with their arms slung over each others shoulders. Jet Star was still outside holding Grace’s gun and talking sternly to her. When Poison turned back to Dr. Death-Defy the old man was already wheeling himself into the back room with a can of Better Living Beans in his lap.
The redhead wondered if he was supposed to have heard that story or not. He couldn’t imagine why not. He was willing to tell the other Killjoys anything about himself, the trust should work both ways.
“We’re out of food!” Kobra yelled. While Poison had been lost in his thoughts his brother had slipped behind the counter.
Under different circumstances he would’ve just rolled his eyes but they had been very carefully rationing their food to the point where their stomachs would twist with hunger more often than not. “It’s not very late, we could probably trade some smokes with someone in the zones for food,” Poison said slowly.
Ghoul and Kobra exchanged glances from across the room and instantly Poison felt his stomach lurch for reasons unrelated to the fact that he hadn’t eaten in the past couple of days. “I’ll do it,” he said quickly before either of them could speak up. He hadn’t forgotten those sounds from the other night, no matter how much he wished he could, and didn’t want the two to have another opportunity to be alone together.
While Poison wasn’t outright against their relationship, he didn’t exactly want to give Ghoul further opportunities to molest his little brother either. He started toward the door and collided into Jet Star who was coming inside with his daughter.
“Don’t go alone,” Kobra called out.
Poison grabbed Jet’s arm and started to drag him back outside with him.
-
The car ride was relaxing, D was playing some awesome tunes and his radio upgrade gave them a much better signal. By now Poison knew the desert well enough to be able to get around without having to rely on the static.
“I’m thinking we should go to zone five. We haven’t been there in a while, they might just give us food,” Jet yelled over the music.
Poison nodded and cut hard to the right, still flooring it. He let out a barely audible umph! when the car drove over a particularly large rock.
“Watch it, man! Don’t break her!”
Poison didn’t say anything and just kept driving. They could probably make it to the town in zone five in an hour at the rate he was going.
Jet Star turned down the blaring music and pressed in the cigarette lighter. “What’s with you?”
Before answering, Poison took a deep breath and reached for one of his cigarettes as well. The windows were rolled up and he wasn’t about to crank them down and risk dust mouth. He grabbed the car lighter before Jet could and passed it once he was lit. “Fuckin’ Ghoul and Kobra,” he took a deep drag of the hand rolled cigarette and continued while exhaling, “are hooking up.”
“Seriously?” Jet exclaimed while nearly coughing up a lung. “Did Kobra tell you?”
“Fucking caught them a couple nights ago. I’ve got no clue how long they’ve been sneaking around.”
Jet let out a low whistle then yelp of surprise when Poison took a hard turn to dodge a small shrub. He dropped his cigarette on his lip and scowled as he hastily retrieved it. “Watch it, man,” Jet snapped while dusting off his lap, “I almost burnt a hole in my pants!”
-
They reached the slum town in zone five in just under an hour. Poison had only been here once before since joining the Killjoys and was just as amazed by it this time around.
Unlike many of the fuckyou houses scattered across the zones, the towns were not fashioned out of crumbled old world buildings, they didn't need to be camouflaged with the destruction. This particular one had pretty decent homes made out of old freight cars and was built around a well and rusty water-pump.
Fun Ghoul had warned him last time not to accept water from here because it was extremely radioactive. Most of the town’s inhabitants were waveheads but not hostile ones.
The two Killjoys got out of the car, Poison with his mask securely fashioned over his eyes and Jet Star with a bandanna tied around his mouth. The few people outside in the heat of the day had stopped in place to stare at the pair. Poison still couldn’t get used to that - the staring - tumbleweeds knew who the Killjoys were on sight alone and depending on where they were that could mean anything from free hospitality to a drawn out firefight.
With only a little more gawking, most of the people went back about their business with the exception of a large, bald man clad in leather. Poison instantly recognized the giant as Gearbox, the medic who’d saved him after Jet’s botched rescue mission.
“Well, well, well,” Gearbox called cheerfully, “if it isn’t the Fabulous Killjoys!” He clapped a massive hand on Poison’s shoulders so hard that his knees almost buckled from the force. “I heard you on the waves a few weeks back - very nice.” Gearbox turned to look at a wavehead woman who was headed toward one of the freight houses and jerked his head. She caught the motion and froze for a second then scampered indoors. “What can I do for you two?”
Jet Star, who was nearly half a foot taller than Poison, squared his shoulders and lifted up his chin but was still dwarfed by the leather-clad tumbleweed. “We came to see if we could get any food - canned food,” he added quickly.
“Where are you guys hiding out that you can’t get a hold of food? I know you’re not at that fuckyou house I visited anymore.”
The question made Poison shift uncomfortably. They’d worked hard at making sure their diner stayed a secret and none of them had ever been asked for a location by a tumbleweed before. “Look,” he interjected. Gearbox turned and glared down on the redhead. Poison didn’t flinch. “we brought cigarettes to trade if we need to. Can you help us out or not?”
Gearbox smirked and raised one of his massive hands to scratch his bald head. “We’ve been doing pretty good at raising livestock so I guess we can spare you some old world cans that are set to expire soon. Come with me.”
The tumbleweed led the two Killjoy’s through the center of the town toward a freight with the word “RATIONS” spray painted across the side. As they walked, Poison noticed that everyone had moved inside since they arrived. It didn’t sit well.
He turned to say something to Jet who caught his look and kept him silent with a gentle nudge.
They loaded up on canned beef ravioli, which Jet Star made an underhand comment about Ghoul losing his shit over, and started to head back to their car. Gearbox walked them the whole way.
Once the armfuls of cans were dumped into the trunk Poison and Jet both turned to look at the large man who was still looming over them. "So how many mouths are you Killjoys feeding-"
“-Thanks,” Poison cut him off in a cool voice. Despite the fact that he was unnerved by the quiet that had fallen over the town he was able to keep his voice aloof and his face expressionless behind the yellow mask. “How many cigarettes do you want in exchange?”
Gearbox shook his head and waved one of his massive hands in dismissal. “No charge, we’re always willing to help out the Killjoys.”
When the giant didn’t move, Jet shifted to rest his hand on his gun. Gearbox didn’t fail to notice the subtle motion. He raised up both hands defensively and gave a booming laugh as he took a few steps away from the trans am.
Poison started to walk toward the drivers seat, never turning his back on the tumbleweed and Jet Star mimicked the motion once the redhead was securely in his seat with the ignition on. As soon as the passenger door slammed shut, Poison punched it and hauled ass out of the town and into the desert. Jet was already lighting up cigarettes for both of them.
“Think we over-reacted?” asked Jet as he passed Poison one of the cigarettes.
“No, there was definitely something going on - that whole visit didn’t feel right.”
Poison punched the accelerator when they drove up a hill then cut hard to jump up onto an old world road that wasn’t too badly torn up. They finished their cigarettes in silence and were just starting to calm down when the first shot from a flasher hit the side of the car.
Jet swore loudly as Poison jerked the wheel in the direction of the attack. There were at least fifty dracs on foot and on bike appearing on the horizon as they raced uphill toward the Killjoys.
The car shook again as the front right headlight exploded after being hit with by a laser. Poison didn’t slow down, he tried to make a donut and run over as many of them as possible. Jet was trying to roll down his window and lean out to start shooting when another laser blast narrowly missed the curly-haired man and took off his side mirror. Poison’s hands were shaking as he tried to spin the wheel and force the car into another donut when the engine shuddered and died.
“No, no, not now!” Poison screamed and started slamming his fists on the wheel, every now and then hitting the center and causing the horn to blare.
“Shut up and start shooting!” Jet yelled. Half of his body was hanging out the car and he was shooting the drac’s off their bikes while the ones on foot advanced forward slowly.
Poison rolled down his window and joined Jet Star in the firefight, his elbows were propped on the roof to try and steady his shaking hands. He wasn’t scared at all as he took a hit to the shoulder and delivered a headshot to a drac three feet to Jet’s left - he was fucking pissed. There was no doubt in his mind that Gearbox had set this up and if he lived through this clap then he swore he would kill the fucking radiated giant.
While preoccupied with trying to shoot down any drac’s who got close to Jet Star, Poison failed to notice that his friend had dropped his gun in the sand. He didn’t pay any attention to what Jet was doing at all until the other Killjoy gave out a cry of pain and withdrew back into the car. Poison quickly surveyed the scene and made sure that the rest of the advancing drac’s were on foot and not dangerously close before ducking back inside as well.
“What’s wrong?”
Jet Star was screaming out curses and clutching his face. Blood was gushing past his gloves and onto the leather seats. “They fucking got my face!” He cried between swears.
Poison’s eyes flickered from Jet’s hunched figure to the advancing drac’s. He lifted his upper body out the window to start firing off shots again then came back inside after narrowly dodging a laser. The pain in his own shoulder from where he was hit was entirely forgotten. “Let me see,” he demanded.
Slowly, Jet lowered his violently shaking hands. His right eye was fucking gone. There was nothing but blood and bone from the bridge of his nose to his right temple. Poison’s expression didn’t change even though he wanted nothing more than to turn away or cover up the wound. “Can you still shoot?” He asked quickly.
“Dropped my gun,” Jet’s voice was shaking just as badly as his hands.
“Take mine,” Poison handed over his weapon then slapped Jet’s left cheek hard when the man almost dropped that gun too. “We’re not dying here. Start shooting.”
The slap must’ve helped bring Jet back to his senses because, even though he was still bleeding very badly and he couldn’t completely stop the tremor in his hands, he seemed to have more or less pulled himself together. On his fourth shot he was able to hit one of the drac’s legs. Poison tried not to feel hopeless but with Jet’s lowered accuracy and being one weapon short he wasn’t sure if they would be able to survive this one.
After another split second of deliberation, Poison reached around and started desperately feeling under the back seats. His fingertips brushed warm metal that he grabbed hold of and retrieved the fucking rocket launcher they’d stashed there on his first day in the desert. He awkwardly moved to sit where his window was rolled down, looking out over the roof of the car, with the rocket launcher hoisted on his shoulder.
Jet Star had yet to bring down another drac and Poison could see the tip of his gun shaking badly from where he sat. “Jet,” he yelled, “roll up your fucking window!” He didn’t duck back into the car to see if his friend complied, just waited a few seconds after he saw the tip of his gun pulled back out of sight then fired into the center of the throng of remaining dracs.
The kick from the rocket launcher was enough to cause Poison to lose his balance and fall from his makeshift seat onto the sand outside the car. The explosion of the rocket caused the car to slide back a good foot and the window to shatter and spray Poison with tiny shards of glass. The boom had been so loud that he couldn’t hear anything but ringing afterward.
He couldn’t tell if any of the dracs were still alive. There weren’t any more shots being fired at him, but he couldn’t hear if they were still advancing. Slowly, Poison stood and peered over the top of the car. If any of the dracs were alive they wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. There was a dark mark on the ground where the rocket must’ve gone off and blood and body parts everywhere.
Poison took another minute to brush the glass off himself. He was still so full of adrenaline that the pain from falling, from the glass cutting him, and from the shot to the shoulder hadn’t hit him yet. It seemed like his hearing was coming back, the ringing was dying down but it still felt like cotton balls had been shoved in his ears.
He opened the car door, tossed the rocket launcher in the back seat, slid in, and focused his attention on Jet Star.
His fellow Killjoy had passed out, Poison’s gun still in hand. There was blood everywhere and tiny specks of glass in the older man’s wound. Poison checked for Jet’s heartbeat and placed a hand over his mouth to make sure his friend was still breathing before giving a shaky sigh of relief.
Poison tried to tell himself that the bleeding was only so bad because it was a head wound. He wanted to tie his bandanna over the injury but was afraid to with all the glass in there. After a brief debate he decided it would be better to have Show Pony dig the glass out of a living Jet Star then drive home with a dead Killjoy riding shotgun, so he unwound his long green scarf from his neck and wrapped it several times around Jet’s head.
He turned the key in the ignition, the car whined but didn’t start. He tried again several times with the same result. Poison didn’t know enough about cars to know how to fix the problem himself but felt pretty certain that the battery had a lot to do with it.
“Hang in there, Jet Star,” he whispered before biting his lip and darting his eyes from side to side while he thought.
Their car did have a CB radio that Dr. Death-Defy had warned them to use only in emergencies. Well this certainly qualified but with the battery dead there was no way to power the radio.
Poison’s eyes darted across the scene of destruction before him and stopped on the twisted metal of one of the drac’s bikes that’d been destroyed by the rocket launcher. “Hang on,” he repeated to his unconscious friend before jumping out of the car.
It took Poison a half hour to find a bike that had both tires still inflated and hadn’t been fucked up by the rocket. He took his findings back to the car and started to collect the still knocked out Jet Star. First he took his weapon from his friend’s hand and then, as an after thought, grabbed the blue flasher gun from the sand and slid it into the holster at Jet’s hip.
He wasn’t running on adrenaline anymore and could feel every thin slice the glass had made on his skin - especially his cheeks - and it took all the willpower and fear of more dracs to move his injured arm and lift Jet Star onto the bike.
Poison had put his friend in front of him on the vehicle and sat very close behind him with his lame arm wrapped around the older man’s waist, hand firmly pressed into Jet’s chest. He took off very slowly in the direction of the diner, careful to jostle the other Killjoy as little as possible and praying that his bandanna was enough to slow down the bleeding for now.
----
I am so SORRY that took so long! I had the worst writer's block everr and once I had started getting ideas for this chapter I had no idea how to put them into words. I finally sucked it up last night and wrote this out. And YES backstory! Finally! I hope it's worth the wait <3
Author: 6_pack_apathy
Pairing: Gerard/Ray Mikey/Frank
Rating: R
POV: 3rd- Gerard-centric
Summary: Our fabulous Killjoys discover that art is the weapon and use it to take down Better Living Industries
Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction, none of the characters or events are true.
Author's Note: I'm sorry for the long wait - I'd live to give a HUGE shoutout to draamalaama for helping me through my writer's block!
Warnings: language, violence, sex
Previous Chapters:
Prologue- Look Alive, Sunshine
Chapter One- Art is the Weapon
Chapter Two- Bullet Proof Heart
Chapter Three- S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W
Chapter Four- The Kids From Yesterday
Chapter Five- Vampire Money
Chapter Six- Planetary GO!
Chapter Seven- Party Poison
Chapter Eight- The Only Hope For Me Is You
Chapter Nine- DESTROYA
Chapter Ten- Summertime
11
Over the next few days there was no change in the way Fun Ghoul and Kobra Kid acted around each other, much to Poison’s relief. The two of them mostly still kept to themselves only now they would take the time to help teach Grace how to shoot her gun and how to throw a solid punch.
Poison still spent most of his time painting everything in sight until the inside of the Diner looked like a unicorn had thrown up.
“That’s what Battery City needs - some color,” Dr. D said one day as he wheeled himself behind the counter to search for something to eat.
Poison looked up from his latest doodle with a surprised look on his face. “You lived in Battery City?”
“I wouldn’t say I lived there,” D started carefully, “I helped Korse build it; but I left before all the walls came up. I’ve only been back twice since then.”
This was new. Despite Dr. Death-Defy’s knowledge of the city, Poison had never thought that the older man had been a part of it. In fact, he had assumed that all of the Killjoy’s were tumbleweeds with the exception of Jet Star. “What do you mean you went back?”
D chuckled, obviously amused by Poison’s bewilderment. The redhead had seemed so unflappable lately that it was nice to see some other expression on his face. “The first time was against my will. Korse sent his first Scarecrow Unit after me.” he saw that Poison only looked more confused at this information so he explained, “I helped build that place. I knew all the ins and outs. He didn’t want that information getting out to someone even crazier than him - especially when the walls hadn’t come up yet. It was a much more dangerous time, anyone could’ve overthrown him.”
Poison nodded, it made sense, Korse must’ve been a lot more vulnerable then.
“So I was captured by the Scarecrows and interviewed on what I knew about the city.-“
“What do you mean by ‘interviewed’?” Poison hadn’t failed to notice the spiteful tone in Dr. D’s voice.
“How do you think I lost my first leg?" De knocked on his left leg and it emitted a hollow sound. "After I found a prosthetic I could walk, until I lost my other one, but for a while I was immobile. Korse gave me this chair and let me go when he was satisfied.”
Poison’s hands were curling into fists. Korse had meant to kill D that first time - there was no way he could’ve thought a crippled man would survive out in the heat and radiation.
“Cherri had been watching Show Pony for me and met the first Party Poison while I was captive. The three of them found me and we started making plans to break back into Battery City one more time before the last wall came up.”
That had to have been right before Gerard and Mikey had reached the city. They’d gotten there just after it’s completion. “Why did you go back,” Poison asked, “for supplies?”
“That,” D admitted, “and to kidnap the Scarecrows. I was younger then, I didn’t care about what the people of Battery City were being subjected to - all I wanted was revenge for what they’d done to me. So we took three Scarecrows and killed the other three.”
“There were only six?”
“At the time, yes. I don’t think Korse wanted an army back then but these guys were a lot tougher. The six of them alone were able to keep an entire city in order - and back then there wasn’t so much surveillance, people were more rebellious - they were ruthless.”
Poison felt almost like a child being told a bedtime story. He’d had no idea that D had been through so much or even that such a rebellion had ever taken place. “What did you do to the survivors?”
“I wanted to torture them. Shred their legs like they did to me and then send them back to Korse,” D sounded ashamed of himself, “but we found out that they had been planning their own rebellion against Korse - they hated what they were doing to people. They weren’t scared of me, Party Poison, or Cherri - and Pony was too young at the time to have been involved - if they had been I don’t think I would have believed them.
“They told us about Operation Killjoy: a plan to blow up the Better Living research facilities. If we could destroy any further corporate development then Korse would lose power over Battery City. After they told us the details of their plans the three of us agreed to help and spent months getting ready to strike.”
“But you didn’t destroy the research facilities,” Poison observed. They were underground miles away from the city and rumor was that the research bunkers were indestructible now.
“No, Cherri betrayed us. I hadn’t known why she was in the desert - that she was infertile and wasn’t granted citizenship into Battery City. Cherri was never helping us to overthrow the city, she was trying to use us for a way in. We dusted her before she could get into the city but not before she’d given Korse our names.”
“So that’s why…” Poison mused quietly to himself. There was only one more question that was bothering him about the story. “Who were the Scarecrows that told you about Operation Killjoy?”
It looked like D was about to answer before the diner door swung open.
Kobra and Ghoul were walking in, covered in dust, with their arms slung over each others shoulders. Jet Star was still outside holding Grace’s gun and talking sternly to her. When Poison turned back to Dr. Death-Defy the old man was already wheeling himself into the back room with a can of Better Living Beans in his lap.
The redhead wondered if he was supposed to have heard that story or not. He couldn’t imagine why not. He was willing to tell the other Killjoys anything about himself, the trust should work both ways.
“We’re out of food!” Kobra yelled. While Poison had been lost in his thoughts his brother had slipped behind the counter.
Under different circumstances he would’ve just rolled his eyes but they had been very carefully rationing their food to the point where their stomachs would twist with hunger more often than not. “It’s not very late, we could probably trade some smokes with someone in the zones for food,” Poison said slowly.
Ghoul and Kobra exchanged glances from across the room and instantly Poison felt his stomach lurch for reasons unrelated to the fact that he hadn’t eaten in the past couple of days. “I’ll do it,” he said quickly before either of them could speak up. He hadn’t forgotten those sounds from the other night, no matter how much he wished he could, and didn’t want the two to have another opportunity to be alone together.
While Poison wasn’t outright against their relationship, he didn’t exactly want to give Ghoul further opportunities to molest his little brother either. He started toward the door and collided into Jet Star who was coming inside with his daughter.
“Don’t go alone,” Kobra called out.
Poison grabbed Jet’s arm and started to drag him back outside with him.
-
The car ride was relaxing, D was playing some awesome tunes and his radio upgrade gave them a much better signal. By now Poison knew the desert well enough to be able to get around without having to rely on the static.
“I’m thinking we should go to zone five. We haven’t been there in a while, they might just give us food,” Jet yelled over the music.
Poison nodded and cut hard to the right, still flooring it. He let out a barely audible umph! when the car drove over a particularly large rock.
“Watch it, man! Don’t break her!”
Poison didn’t say anything and just kept driving. They could probably make it to the town in zone five in an hour at the rate he was going.
Jet Star turned down the blaring music and pressed in the cigarette lighter. “What’s with you?”
Before answering, Poison took a deep breath and reached for one of his cigarettes as well. The windows were rolled up and he wasn’t about to crank them down and risk dust mouth. He grabbed the car lighter before Jet could and passed it once he was lit. “Fuckin’ Ghoul and Kobra,” he took a deep drag of the hand rolled cigarette and continued while exhaling, “are hooking up.”
“Seriously?” Jet exclaimed while nearly coughing up a lung. “Did Kobra tell you?”
“Fucking caught them a couple nights ago. I’ve got no clue how long they’ve been sneaking around.”
Jet let out a low whistle then yelp of surprise when Poison took a hard turn to dodge a small shrub. He dropped his cigarette on his lip and scowled as he hastily retrieved it. “Watch it, man,” Jet snapped while dusting off his lap, “I almost burnt a hole in my pants!”
-
They reached the slum town in zone five in just under an hour. Poison had only been here once before since joining the Killjoys and was just as amazed by it this time around.
Unlike many of the fuckyou houses scattered across the zones, the towns were not fashioned out of crumbled old world buildings, they didn't need to be camouflaged with the destruction. This particular one had pretty decent homes made out of old freight cars and was built around a well and rusty water-pump.
Fun Ghoul had warned him last time not to accept water from here because it was extremely radioactive. Most of the town’s inhabitants were waveheads but not hostile ones.
The two Killjoys got out of the car, Poison with his mask securely fashioned over his eyes and Jet Star with a bandanna tied around his mouth. The few people outside in the heat of the day had stopped in place to stare at the pair. Poison still couldn’t get used to that - the staring - tumbleweeds knew who the Killjoys were on sight alone and depending on where they were that could mean anything from free hospitality to a drawn out firefight.
With only a little more gawking, most of the people went back about their business with the exception of a large, bald man clad in leather. Poison instantly recognized the giant as Gearbox, the medic who’d saved him after Jet’s botched rescue mission.
“Well, well, well,” Gearbox called cheerfully, “if it isn’t the Fabulous Killjoys!” He clapped a massive hand on Poison’s shoulders so hard that his knees almost buckled from the force. “I heard you on the waves a few weeks back - very nice.” Gearbox turned to look at a wavehead woman who was headed toward one of the freight houses and jerked his head. She caught the motion and froze for a second then scampered indoors. “What can I do for you two?”
Jet Star, who was nearly half a foot taller than Poison, squared his shoulders and lifted up his chin but was still dwarfed by the leather-clad tumbleweed. “We came to see if we could get any food - canned food,” he added quickly.
“Where are you guys hiding out that you can’t get a hold of food? I know you’re not at that fuckyou house I visited anymore.”
The question made Poison shift uncomfortably. They’d worked hard at making sure their diner stayed a secret and none of them had ever been asked for a location by a tumbleweed before. “Look,” he interjected. Gearbox turned and glared down on the redhead. Poison didn’t flinch. “we brought cigarettes to trade if we need to. Can you help us out or not?”
Gearbox smirked and raised one of his massive hands to scratch his bald head. “We’ve been doing pretty good at raising livestock so I guess we can spare you some old world cans that are set to expire soon. Come with me.”
The tumbleweed led the two Killjoy’s through the center of the town toward a freight with the word “RATIONS” spray painted across the side. As they walked, Poison noticed that everyone had moved inside since they arrived. It didn’t sit well.
He turned to say something to Jet who caught his look and kept him silent with a gentle nudge.
They loaded up on canned beef ravioli, which Jet Star made an underhand comment about Ghoul losing his shit over, and started to head back to their car. Gearbox walked them the whole way.
Once the armfuls of cans were dumped into the trunk Poison and Jet both turned to look at the large man who was still looming over them. "So how many mouths are you Killjoys feeding-"
“-Thanks,” Poison cut him off in a cool voice. Despite the fact that he was unnerved by the quiet that had fallen over the town he was able to keep his voice aloof and his face expressionless behind the yellow mask. “How many cigarettes do you want in exchange?”
Gearbox shook his head and waved one of his massive hands in dismissal. “No charge, we’re always willing to help out the Killjoys.”
When the giant didn’t move, Jet shifted to rest his hand on his gun. Gearbox didn’t fail to notice the subtle motion. He raised up both hands defensively and gave a booming laugh as he took a few steps away from the trans am.
Poison started to walk toward the drivers seat, never turning his back on the tumbleweed and Jet Star mimicked the motion once the redhead was securely in his seat with the ignition on. As soon as the passenger door slammed shut, Poison punched it and hauled ass out of the town and into the desert. Jet was already lighting up cigarettes for both of them.
“Think we over-reacted?” asked Jet as he passed Poison one of the cigarettes.
“No, there was definitely something going on - that whole visit didn’t feel right.”
Poison punched the accelerator when they drove up a hill then cut hard to jump up onto an old world road that wasn’t too badly torn up. They finished their cigarettes in silence and were just starting to calm down when the first shot from a flasher hit the side of the car.
Jet swore loudly as Poison jerked the wheel in the direction of the attack. There were at least fifty dracs on foot and on bike appearing on the horizon as they raced uphill toward the Killjoys.
The car shook again as the front right headlight exploded after being hit with by a laser. Poison didn’t slow down, he tried to make a donut and run over as many of them as possible. Jet was trying to roll down his window and lean out to start shooting when another laser blast narrowly missed the curly-haired man and took off his side mirror. Poison’s hands were shaking as he tried to spin the wheel and force the car into another donut when the engine shuddered and died.
“No, no, not now!” Poison screamed and started slamming his fists on the wheel, every now and then hitting the center and causing the horn to blare.
“Shut up and start shooting!” Jet yelled. Half of his body was hanging out the car and he was shooting the drac’s off their bikes while the ones on foot advanced forward slowly.
Poison rolled down his window and joined Jet Star in the firefight, his elbows were propped on the roof to try and steady his shaking hands. He wasn’t scared at all as he took a hit to the shoulder and delivered a headshot to a drac three feet to Jet’s left - he was fucking pissed. There was no doubt in his mind that Gearbox had set this up and if he lived through this clap then he swore he would kill the fucking radiated giant.
While preoccupied with trying to shoot down any drac’s who got close to Jet Star, Poison failed to notice that his friend had dropped his gun in the sand. He didn’t pay any attention to what Jet was doing at all until the other Killjoy gave out a cry of pain and withdrew back into the car. Poison quickly surveyed the scene and made sure that the rest of the advancing drac’s were on foot and not dangerously close before ducking back inside as well.
“What’s wrong?”
Jet Star was screaming out curses and clutching his face. Blood was gushing past his gloves and onto the leather seats. “They fucking got my face!” He cried between swears.
Poison’s eyes flickered from Jet’s hunched figure to the advancing drac’s. He lifted his upper body out the window to start firing off shots again then came back inside after narrowly dodging a laser. The pain in his own shoulder from where he was hit was entirely forgotten. “Let me see,” he demanded.
Slowly, Jet lowered his violently shaking hands. His right eye was fucking gone. There was nothing but blood and bone from the bridge of his nose to his right temple. Poison’s expression didn’t change even though he wanted nothing more than to turn away or cover up the wound. “Can you still shoot?” He asked quickly.
“Dropped my gun,” Jet’s voice was shaking just as badly as his hands.
“Take mine,” Poison handed over his weapon then slapped Jet’s left cheek hard when the man almost dropped that gun too. “We’re not dying here. Start shooting.”
The slap must’ve helped bring Jet back to his senses because, even though he was still bleeding very badly and he couldn’t completely stop the tremor in his hands, he seemed to have more or less pulled himself together. On his fourth shot he was able to hit one of the drac’s legs. Poison tried not to feel hopeless but with Jet’s lowered accuracy and being one weapon short he wasn’t sure if they would be able to survive this one.
After another split second of deliberation, Poison reached around and started desperately feeling under the back seats. His fingertips brushed warm metal that he grabbed hold of and retrieved the fucking rocket launcher they’d stashed there on his first day in the desert. He awkwardly moved to sit where his window was rolled down, looking out over the roof of the car, with the rocket launcher hoisted on his shoulder.
Jet Star had yet to bring down another drac and Poison could see the tip of his gun shaking badly from where he sat. “Jet,” he yelled, “roll up your fucking window!” He didn’t duck back into the car to see if his friend complied, just waited a few seconds after he saw the tip of his gun pulled back out of sight then fired into the center of the throng of remaining dracs.
The kick from the rocket launcher was enough to cause Poison to lose his balance and fall from his makeshift seat onto the sand outside the car. The explosion of the rocket caused the car to slide back a good foot and the window to shatter and spray Poison with tiny shards of glass. The boom had been so loud that he couldn’t hear anything but ringing afterward.
He couldn’t tell if any of the dracs were still alive. There weren’t any more shots being fired at him, but he couldn’t hear if they were still advancing. Slowly, Poison stood and peered over the top of the car. If any of the dracs were alive they wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. There was a dark mark on the ground where the rocket must’ve gone off and blood and body parts everywhere.
Poison took another minute to brush the glass off himself. He was still so full of adrenaline that the pain from falling, from the glass cutting him, and from the shot to the shoulder hadn’t hit him yet. It seemed like his hearing was coming back, the ringing was dying down but it still felt like cotton balls had been shoved in his ears.
He opened the car door, tossed the rocket launcher in the back seat, slid in, and focused his attention on Jet Star.
His fellow Killjoy had passed out, Poison’s gun still in hand. There was blood everywhere and tiny specks of glass in the older man’s wound. Poison checked for Jet’s heartbeat and placed a hand over his mouth to make sure his friend was still breathing before giving a shaky sigh of relief.
Poison tried to tell himself that the bleeding was only so bad because it was a head wound. He wanted to tie his bandanna over the injury but was afraid to with all the glass in there. After a brief debate he decided it would be better to have Show Pony dig the glass out of a living Jet Star then drive home with a dead Killjoy riding shotgun, so he unwound his long green scarf from his neck and wrapped it several times around Jet’s head.
He turned the key in the ignition, the car whined but didn’t start. He tried again several times with the same result. Poison didn’t know enough about cars to know how to fix the problem himself but felt pretty certain that the battery had a lot to do with it.
“Hang in there, Jet Star,” he whispered before biting his lip and darting his eyes from side to side while he thought.
Their car did have a CB radio that Dr. Death-Defy had warned them to use only in emergencies. Well this certainly qualified but with the battery dead there was no way to power the radio.
Poison’s eyes darted across the scene of destruction before him and stopped on the twisted metal of one of the drac’s bikes that’d been destroyed by the rocket launcher. “Hang on,” he repeated to his unconscious friend before jumping out of the car.
It took Poison a half hour to find a bike that had both tires still inflated and hadn’t been fucked up by the rocket. He took his findings back to the car and started to collect the still knocked out Jet Star. First he took his weapon from his friend’s hand and then, as an after thought, grabbed the blue flasher gun from the sand and slid it into the holster at Jet’s hip.
He wasn’t running on adrenaline anymore and could feel every thin slice the glass had made on his skin - especially his cheeks - and it took all the willpower and fear of more dracs to move his injured arm and lift Jet Star onto the bike.
Poison had put his friend in front of him on the vehicle and sat very close behind him with his lame arm wrapped around the older man’s waist, hand firmly pressed into Jet’s chest. He took off very slowly in the direction of the diner, careful to jostle the other Killjoy as little as possible and praying that his bandanna was enough to slow down the bleeding for now.
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I am so SORRY that took so long! I had the worst writer's block everr and once I had started getting ideas for this chapter I had no idea how to put them into words. I finally sucked it up last night and wrote this out. And YES backstory! Finally! I hope it's worth the wait <3