neelacuda: Image of Dr. Death-Defying from the Killjoys Comic (doctor death defying)
[personal profile] neelacuda

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The bar was packed as Mikey walked in and made a beeline to the bartender. The babble slowly died down as they realised he was there, in full uniform and raygun.


“Bring me Car Crash,” Mikey said, short and to the point.

“We don’t serve ‘crows like you,” the bartender sneered, and Mikey pulled his blaster out and pointed it at her head. He knew the rebels enough to know there would be more blasters pointed at his own.

His face twisted into a sick smile as he announced to the whole bar, “You shoot me and I will have a thousand Dracs in here before you can say Party Poison, so I think it’s in everyone’s best interests that you bring me Car Crash right now. Tell him Exterminator’s here. And gimme a shot of the strongest thing you have.”


Everyone in the bar stood stock still until Mikey fired a shot at the ceiling. Then they nervously started talking, and milling about. Mikey took a seat at the bar and downed his shot, waiting for Crash to come.


He did, and so the rest of the Youngbloods.

“So, you’re the Exterminator who’s got us all in tizzy,” Crash said, looking stonily at him. The words sounded wrong in his flat tone, like someone had cut all the humour out in a way that created the effect of muting a holovid.

Mikey lifted his chin, replying, “I didn’t lie.”

“Fooled even the illustrious Killjoys themselves, huh? How’d you pull that one?” Crash had his face twisted up in a way that was meant to seem vindictive, or cruel, but his eyes gave him away.

“What, you worried? Worried I’m going to pull the same fucking trick on you?”


They stared each other down, neither wanting to break first and get to the meat of the conversation.


“What do you want?” interjected a short, blond guy. Mikey’d been introduced, but he honestly could not be fucked to remember his name.

Mikey jerked his head towards the back rooms and said, “I think we should take this somewhere private.”

“Yeah, so you can kill me?” Crash said, and Mikey rolled his eyes.

“I thought you were my ally.”

Crash sighed, knowing he owed Mikey at least that.


“Look, you take my gun, I’m unarmed. It’s four against one.” He offered his raygun to them, and the guy with the impressive ‘fro that reminded him slightly of Ray took it.

“Back this way.” They said, moving towards the back rooms, and Mikey followed.


“Talk.” The blond guy said, closing the door and fingering his own raygun.

“You guys wanna get the Killjoys out of the hands of BLI, right?” Mikey started, watching as they all nodded. Everyone knew that the rebels were worried, disillusioned now their illustrious leaders were gone. “I do too. And I think I have a way to get them out, too.”

“Yeah, and what’s in it for you? How do we know this isn’t a trap?” Blondie must really not like him, his tone made that clear.

“I care about them too, you know.”

“You care about them enough to put them in jail.” the ‘fro guy said, and Mikey sighed.

“Or what? Try to fight Korse? Get arrested along with them? Get dusted? It wouldn’t help anything.”

“But why do you care?” Crash asked, and Mikey sighed.

“Let’s just say I have a personal interest in the wellbeing of Jet Star’s dick.”


There was a long, pregnant silence, with Mikey staring them down, before Crash laughed, and said: “Okay. We’re in. What do you need?”


%


Their plan was practically perfect, almost foolproof. Well, foolproof apart from the glaring holes and leaps of faith, anyway. The Youngbloods had been working on the zones, and now there were probably more rebels there than there were in the City anymore. It was the perfect time to hatch their plan, before BLI caught Mikey and killed him.


Crash was waiting in the zones, but he said that he’d hook Mikey up with the fastest and craziest motherfuckers still walking the land to help him pull off the plan. Mikey had the truck, the uniforms, and a whole load of blasters and bombs to help them get the fuck outta the City.


All he needed was a crew to help him out.


“Saporta?” he said, incredulous. He couldn’t believe it, he and Gerard used to play with Saporta on the streets after school, at least until the New Jersey District became too dangerous and their respective moms prohibited them from doing it.

“Way? Dude, I haven’t seen you in for-fucking-ever, you’re lookin’ totally shiny, whoa!” Saporta exclaimed, grabbing him in a tight hug and grinding his hips into Mikey’s, as Mikey rolled his eyes.


Mikey laughed, and said, “It’s Kobra Kid, now.”

Saporta grinned and replied, “Hot Mess. And that there’s Ivy League, and Scandalous, Disaster Boy and Guy Ripley! And we’re Cobra Starship!” They all struck a pose, looking like a dumb superhero team in a kid’s vid.

“Okay…” Mikey said, slightly weirded out but not expecting anything less from what he knew of Saporta, “You guys got the plan?”

“Sure thing, Kid! You got everything?”

“All in the van. You guys just need to get into costume and follow me and above all: don’t say anything, okay?”

The crew nodded. Time to get the show on the road.


%


Mikey and his entourage of Dracs made their way through the prison complex, heading straight to the cells with the Killjoys detained. Mikey had checked this all earlier, even marking his route on a map of the complex.


He nodded at the Dracs on guard, scanning his ID pass and opening the first cell. It was Frank, of course.

“Get up.” he said, motioning the Dracs to pick him up by the shoulders and handcuff him.


Frank tried to give them trouble, swearing and squirming, until Mikey pointed his raygun at him and said, “You cause any more trouble and I’ll shoot. I’m sure you don’t need your legs too much.”


Frank shut up and glared at him. He didn’t see that the raygun was only on stun.


They did the same with Brian and Bob, each of them giving as good as they fucking got in their own ways, and each needing Mikey to threaten them. Mikey was really, really annoyed. How hard was it to transfer prisoners without getting lip? Couldn’t they co-operate for once in their lives?


Then they got to Gee.

“Mikey, Mikey please, try to push the drugs away. C’mon Mikey, do it for me, please,” Gerard pleaded with him, and Mikey tried not to break down immediately. He couldn’t risk it, this was the only chance they had.

“Shut up.” He said, brusque and commanding. The words sat in the pit of his stomach like a stone, but he tried his fucking damnedest not to break.


The guilt only grew as he watched Gerard bite their lip to stop crying and drop their gaze to the floor, subdued. Even Frank and Brian and Bob looked concerned, before focusing their harsh glares back onto Mikey. Mikey tried his hardest not to flinch.


Ray didn’t say anything, just went without comment. He was smart, that was one of the reasons Mikey had loved him. Knew when was the time to fight, and when to retreat.


They marched them down the halls, through the complex and out the door into the BLI transport truck, locking them and himself into the back of the car. Two Dracs got in the front and started driving along their agreed route, before Mikey turned around to the other Dracs in the back with him and the Killjoys and started laughing, relieved that they’d managed to pull it off. He probably sounded like a crazy man, but they’d managed to pull the dumbest plan in the world off, almost too easy.


Frank looked especially pissed at this, until the rest of Cobra started taking off their masks and uniforms, and Mikey took off his own Exterminator clothes to reveal his Kobra Kid jacket that he’d gotten made and was super proud of. (It was red and shiny and fit in all the right places. It was brilliant.) Guy Ripley and Hot Mess unlocked the Killjoys, throwing their handcuffs to the floor of the truck.


Gee joined in on their laughing, incredulous and happy. “Holy fuck, Mikes, you’re fucking brilliant.”

“It’s Kobra Kid now, Poison,” Mikey replied, and Gerard looked at him with that big brother smile full of pride and joy.

“Kobra Kid. The snake hidden underneath the innocent flower,” Gee laughed, squeezing Mikey’s hand tightly, like they couldn’t let Mikey go, lest he disappear again. It reassured Mikey as well, that they were finally on the same page.


“Well,” Brian said grudgingly, “I guess I owe you an apology, Kobra Kid.” Gerard turned to him, grinning widely like a madman, and Mikey smiled at him.

“I guess I wasn’t as evil as you guys thought, huh?”

“I’m glad to be proved wrong,” Brian nodded, and Mikey relaxed in his seat.

Bob nodded along with Brian, pitching in with, “Yeah,” in his own firm way of speaking.

Frank grunted and rolled his eyes, “I still think you’re a dickhead. But you’re okay. I guess.” Gerard elbowed him hard in the chest, until he continued with, “But thanks. Anyway.”

Mikey tried not to notice how Ray said nothing to him.


“As much as I love heartwarming family reunions, guys,” Hot Mess cut in, “we need to change cars and get the hell outta this Bland-tery City!”


Scandalous and Disaster Boy opened the doors, hurrying them out of the truck to where Cobra had parked their bikes and Mikey had parked his Trans Am with their essentials packed into the boot. (He’d given their other shit to the Youngbloods to take to Death Valley, so they only had the small things and weapons and a couple cans of gas.)


Mikey got everyone into the Trans Am and waved Cobra goodbye before pushing Ray into the driver’s seat and getting into the back next to Frank.

“Drive, motherfucker, drive,” Mikey screamed, rolling down his window.


Ray stepped on the accelerator and hightailed it outta there. Mikey scrambled up and stuck his upper out the window, ignoring the Killjoy’s shouts. When they were far enough from the truck for the blast radius not to hurt, he blew it up.


He concentrated on the truck, picturing all the inner mechanisms and tubes that made it work. He found the gas tank in his mind, focusing on leaving a tiny spark, then feeding the blaze that grew into an impressive fireball. It was hard doing it at that distance, and it made him feel nauseous and headache-y.


Frank’s eyes were the size of Bat City itself. “Holy shit,” he breathed, looking at Mikey like he was the best thing since breathable air.

“What?”

“Dude, that was fucking awesome.”

“That? That was nothing,” Mikey looked at him, confused.

“How did you rig up the explosives so they went off so perfectly? Is that what you learn in Exterminator school?” Frank asked excitedly, acting the most energetic and happy than he’d been with Mikey ever.

“Uh, no?” Mikey said, frowning, “Dude, I’m a mutt.”

“We don’t use that word, Mikes!” Gee chimed in, and Mikey rolled his eyes. (They hadn’t changed since they were a kid.)

“They let mutants into BLI?!” Brian looked shocked, and Mikey rolled his eyes more. (If that was even possible.)

“Well, duh. They let Ray in, so I guess they’re hirin’ any old body lying around,” Mikey said, mostly to Ray’s back. (Gerard frowned at him, silently yelling at him for being a rude bitch.)

“Oh. So you know we’re all mutants, then?” Bob said, and Mikey rolled his eyes so hard he was sure they were going to drop out of his skull.

Duh. It wasn’t coincidence Vladimir got you guys, he only works with mutants. I could work it out from there. Didn’t Ray tell you any of this shit?” Mikey was appalled at their complete lack of understanding and Ray’s evident incompetence. (As usual.) (He wasn’t holding any grudges at all.)


If Mikey’s eyes weren’t tricking him, he could see Ray’s shoulders droop a little further and his expression drop. (It was almost as if Ray was regretting it, and that Ray still cared for him.) They all fell into an uncomfortable silence, looking out at the outskirts of Bat City.


They’d nearly driven to the tunnels to get to the desert, which was probably the second riskiest part of their plan. Mikey directed Ray with clipped words and a lot of leaning forward, making sure Ray treated his car right. He didn’t want Ray to wreck his car and leave him stranded in the zones and having to walk through the desert to the Youngblood’s hideout. (Or even worse, having to stay with them until Car Crash could pick him up.)


When they hit the tunnels Mikey leaned out of his car again, searching out the energy signatures of the Dracs. There weren’t that many, as BLI still hadn’t quite caught on to the fact the rebels were moving out into the desert. He prompted Gee to lean out the other side and shoot at the ones he couldn’t set on fire or steal the energy of. He managed to get most of them, moving and using his powers faster than he’d ever practiced before.


The adrenalin was pumping hard as he dodged laser blasts from the Dracs’ guns. The lasers ricocheted off his car instead, burning the paint job. Ray just sped faster, nearing the end of the tunnel and pushing forward to their last few yards to freedom. Mikey concentrated further on leaving annihilation behind the car, especially once they got out into the zones.


He set the entrance to the tunnel on fire, a huge wall of flame that marked their exit from Bat City in a spark shower.


When they couldn’t even see the entrance to the tunnel anymore, Mikey told Ray to pull over and to switch with him so he could drop them off at the gas station the Youngbloods told him they outfitted just for the Killjoys.


(Any true rebel would lay down their life for the Killjoys, because every damn rebel owed their life to them, Car Crash had explained to Mikey. If it weren’t for them, the rebels wouldn’t know what to do.)


“I’m going to drop you guys off at this place. There’s a couple bikes there, so you guys can still get around.”

“Hang on, what?” Gerard asked, frowning into the rear view mirror.

“I ain’t stickin’ around, Gee. Car Crash said I could run with the Youngbloods until I get my feet and find my own crew.”

“What do you mean you ain’t stickin’ around?” Gerard kicked the back of Mikey’s seat and Mikey tried not to crash his fucking car.

“Cut that shit out. I don’t wanna have this conversation with you right now, okay?”

“Mikey,” Gerard demanded, “explain.”

Mikey sighed, turning the car around so he could follow the route Bad Blood told him to take. “I don’t exactly want to run around with my ex and my ex-druggie brother and my kidnappers, thank you.”

“What? But we were trying to like, help you,” Gerard said, appalled that he felt that way.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t.”

“What do you mean we didn’t help you?” Frank asked, sounding outraged that Mikey would even suggest such a thing, “You were a fucking BLI goon!”

“But I was happy!” Mikey snapped, turning more forcefully than he needed.

“You weren’t really happy,” Brian said, “you were on the pills.”

“Well, I also had a boyfriend and a job and fucking prescribed ignorance, so you guys can shut the fuck up. You don’t understand jack shit.”


“You had a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?” Gerard joked, trying to lighten the mood somewhat.

“What, Ray didn’t tell you?”

“I was trying to give us some privacy, thanks babe,” Ray hissed, glaring at Mikey with equal parts tiredness and annoyance.

“Hang on, what?” Bob cut in, confused.


Mikey just sped the last mile they had to get to the old diner. “We dated. Whatever.”

Gerard looked at Ray, glaring, “You dated my brother?”

“Leave it, Gee. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Mikey,” Ray said, looking pained. He didn’t continue it, though, and let Mikey get them to the gas station in uncomfortable silence.


Mikey led them into the diner, handing Gerard the keys and showing them where the Youngbloods had stashed all their stuff. Car Crash had given him a good description of the place.


“Well, I’m going now. If you need me just look for Kobra Kid.” Mikey said, turning to leave.

Gee ran up to him, crushing him in a tight hug, “You don’t need to go, Mikes, c’mon.”

“Gee, I gotta do this. I need to find out who I am for once, without being Gerard’s little brother or the Exterminator guy.”

“But you’ll always be my little bro, right?”

Mikey softened, he always had a soft spot for Gerard, a spot that was so soft that he’d do anything for Gerard. “Yeah. ‘Course, Gee.”


Mikey let go of Gerard and saw the tears on their cheeks, but Gerard wiped them away before anyone else could.

“I love you, lil bro.”

“I love you too.”


%


Mikey got into his car, and put the key in the ignition before he was startled by Ray’s “Hey.”

“What?” he said, whipping his head around to face Ray, frowning. “Get out of my car.”

“Look, can we have a conversation where you just hear me out, instead of you screaming at me?”

Mikey was not drunk enough to deal with all the Killjoys’ shit. “Talk. I’m giving you five minutes.”

“I love you, Mikey.”

“Yeah, and I love you too. That doesn’t change anything.”


“I was just trying to do that to help you, okay? And I was just following the original plan but we were not in the original plan so I didn’t know what to do. And then I didn’t know if you’d still love me, off the pills, and I guess I was too afraid to ask. And by the time I had the courage to, you were like, with Car Crash or whatever and I didn’t want to intrude on that so I didn’t say anything and then we had that conversation and I thought you hated me, so yeah...” he tapered off.


“I tried, Ray, I tried to hate you, okay? You didn’t even come and see me and I thought you’d just been dating me to make me trust you more and make it easier to fucking kidnap me. I thought you broke up with me because you just ignored me for weeks, so what else was I supposed to think?”


“I’m really sorry, Mikey. I know that’s inadequate and I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you, but I want to try. And I hope you will give me that opportunity.” He looked at Mikey with big sad eyes and a desperate tilt to his mouth. Mikey’s heart lurched, wanting to forgive him immediately and fall into his arms.

Instead, he said, “I gotta get to Car Crash or else he’s gonna start mourning me, but if you wanted to visit tomorrow, I wouldn’t be averse to the idea.”


Ray grinned, his stupid huge grin that made Mikey fall in love with him the first time. Mikey was pretty powerless to stop it the second time. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

Mikey leant over to kiss Ray chastely on the lips, more a promise than a proper kiss, before shoving him out of the car playfully.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah,” Ray replied, “tomorrow.”


Ray kept waving until Mikey couldn’t see him anymore.



NINE.

I can’t believe that BLI has started to send Dracs out into the Zones. That’s basically-well, it hasn’t happened before. I should know. Friday Night basically freaked when he found out, and he was already pretty hyped up. Friday is kind of an anal freak about shit like this.


So they’ve started sending out Drac patrols, and each one is more and more effective than the last. Things work differently out in the Zones, different to the way they work in the City but when you get shot to shit you’re still a dead motherfucker.


Two ‘runners got ghosted out on Guano yesterday, and that was just yesterday. We don’t have enough ‘runners to keep this shit up. (I know-knew Morning Wood. Tough Cookie is still cut up about it. I don’t know how to comfort her. I think Dr. Death Defying is doing something about it, though. Keeping her busy, so she can’t wallow. Sounds like a good plan to me.)


Brian suggested we try to capture some of the Dracs, see if we can detox them from the chemical soup they’re on. He said he didn’t See anything clear but he said we’d get some information from them, enough that we’re going to do something drastic.


(Brian always tries to tell us nothing more than we absolutely need to know about the future, says the knowledge ain’t good for us and if we knew it we could fuck it up. I reckon he’s hiding shit from us but Gerard trusts him so I do too. At least what he Sees is usually pretty accurate.)


Anyway, Frank and Bad Blood had a fucking riot setting up a whole trap and shit, which included Ray as a decoy (which I was not cool with) and Frank as another decoy (which I was a lot more okay with). It ended up trapping three Dracs and killing only one, which was lower than estimated. Gerard was pretty pleased to be Saving Lives and Helping People.


We unmasked the Dracs and they’re now tied to a chair and sweating off all the drugs, so hopefully they should be able to function properly after this, and not be broken in the brain forever. We figure if we can get this back, get their proper minds back then we’ve made a huge progress-people don’t need to be lost to the BLI murder machine. We can save them, make them human again.


Gerard is really hoping for this, and I am too, even though I don’t see them much. I’m mostly hanging with the Youngbloods and Cobra Starship until I get my head sorted about what I need to do and who I need to be. Gerard does tag along with Ray, even though we sometimes ignore them and go blow each other in the back rooms. I don’t think Gerard minds too much, although Ray says they gave him a speech about how they will blast his balls off if Ray hurts me. It’s kind of nice to have that Big Brother side of them back, I didn’t get that with the drugs or when they were running off with the other rebels.


They should be waking up soon, I’m worried they’re going to try to attack me, or worse-puke on me. (There isn’t much opportunity for washing your clothes in the zones, okay?)  


%


One of them woke up- the gangly one with a pronounced Adam’s apple and long, fluffy hair. I poked them, bringing them a glass of water and helping them drink it in small sips. They were probably dehydrated, it had been three days of emptying their stomachs.


“Hi, I’m Kobra Kid.” I said to them, and they snorted.

“That the name your mama gave you?”

“No, but it’s the name I picked for myself. That’s what we do out here, we leave the city behind.” I said, probably fiercer than I’d tried to make my voice sound.

“Where am I?”

“The Zones. Zone Three, to be exact.”

“Bullshit. The Zones are uninhabitable.”

“That why you were investigating them, right?”


The guy seemed stumped, not being able find a comeback for that.

“What are your pronouns?” I asked him, changing my tack a bit. Gerard always told me to not assume, and stay conscious of people’s feelings.

“Huh?”

“What’s your gender? Or preferred pronouns?”

“Uh, whatever, I guess. I don’t mind. Male, maybe? And those two are both gals, if you’re wondering.”

“Are you gonna attack me?”

“Not if it’s not gonna help me.”

I laughed. “It’ll get you shot to shit, mate.”


He mouthed the phrase ‘shot to shit’ to himself as I tucked my gun back into my thigh holster and uncuffed him from the chair.

“So, how you feeling?”

“Like I could eat the whole fucking Scarecrow division and still have room for seconds,” he joked, and I laughed, surprised. In Bat City you’d never be allowed to make a joke like that, but we weren’t in Bat City anymore, and we could make whatever jokes we fucking wanted. That realisation was liberating. (The City was like a bad ex who stalked you for months after you broke up with them: it followed you around in the back of your mind until you went crazy.)


%


After a few days they’d decided on names for themselves. The funny, crazy, gangly one wanted to be called Drac Fucker, but agreed on picking a name a little less confusing. He settled on Lil Urine, though I couldn’t understand for the life of me why he’d choose that. The taller girl who wore bright red lipstick and an incredibly short skirt was The Lynzoid, and the shorter girl with fucking crazy eye make-up was Kitty. Just Kitty.


They were actually pretty fucking hilarious, each with a witty repartee and working off each other’s jokes like they’ve known each other for years, although they say their time spent as dracs was purely work-related and they had no time for any fun whatsoever. (I kind of believe that, but it still makes it weird to see how close they are.)


Even so, no one really trusts them, so they just lumped me with them as a babysitter and made me teach them the ways of the Zones. I think it’s because we’re all previous employees of BLI, and therefore still not trusted. For all their preaching about how they don’t care about the past, Zonerunners can be remarkably judgemental.


I took them for a tour of the “landmarks” in the Zones - mostly where all the important people live - and helped them adjust to life in the zones. This all went according to plan until we hit up Dr. D’s place.


The broadcasting trailer moves around, but I usually know where it is because I’m one of the only assholes in the Zones with a proper car, and therefore help people move some of their larger shit around for some gas and a snack. So we’re at the trailer and suddenly Urine sees Dr. D and bounces into his lap, peppering him with loud smacking kisses all over D’s face and beard. The ‘Zoid’s looking kinda confused but she just laughs anyway. Kitty’s grinning like a - a cat who’s got the cream, pun unintended.


“I think I’ve missed something,” Tough Cookie said, looking from Urine and Dr. D to Kitty, “Do you guys know each other?”


Urine nearly pissed himself laughing, falling off Dr. D’s chair and rolling around on the floor. Dr. D looked down at him, laughing and leaning over to laugh in his face. “This motherfucker’s the reason I can’t walk,” he said, with the easy banter of someone who’s at complete peace with the people around him. (It wasn’t something I see often-Dr. D was probably the most inclusive out of everyone I’d met in the Zones. He said it was because you couldn’t afford to be picky out in the desert when you were in a chair. I said I wouldn’t know.)


I didn’t ask how Urine did it, and neither of them offered any explanation.


“I was wonderin’ what’d become of you! How’s it going, Righ?” Urine laughed, as did everyone else.

“You know me,” Dr. D laughed right back, “I knew just what was goin’ on. I gotta a pal of mine - Show Pony, you gotta meet zem sometime, Urine, you’ll love zem - and we came with the rest of the rebels out here.”


Urine seemed placated with that answer, and so Dr. D spun around to face the girls.

“Kitty! Long time, no see! How are you doing?” he said, smiling up at her.

She smiled back, and said, “Nice to see you again, Steve-I mean, Dr. D. Glad to see you’re only in two pieces.”

He chuckled at that, and then turned to Lynzoid.


“Hey babe,” he leered, and winked, and Lynzoid’s face soured.

She glared at him until he wheeled back a bit and put his hands up in surrender. Then she laughed, high and open. “How ya doin’ big boy?”

Urine patted her arm and said in a light tone, “This is the Lynzoid, she’s our bassist after Y.T. split. She’s fucking hardcore, don’t mess with this bitch.”

Kitty nodded knowingly, and Dr. D laughed again.


“And you, Kobra Kid, I’ve got something for you. Remind me later.”

I wondered what it was, what Dr. D had for someone like me.


The next hour or so was full of explanations about the zones, as well as old friends catching up and making jokes about things that I’d never heard about nor had any recollection of having seen whilst working in BLI. I didn’t mind that they ignored me, it was obvious that I was intruding a bit, and they all knew each other better than I knew any of them.


When I was sure they’d forgotten about me, Dr. D wheeled over to me and patted my knee. “Kobra Kid, I’ve got a message for you.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s someone who’s heard about you, and he’d like to meet you. I told him you’d been working… intimately with BLI, and that piqued his interest. He wanted to talk to you.”

“Someone I haven’t met?”

“He’s very… reclusive.”

“You a friend of his, then?”

“I wouldn’t say he’s a friend. Maybe I’d say he’s an ally.”

“You think I should meet him, then?”

“Yeah. I’d say even if it didn’t help, it’d give you some information about what’s going on.”

“You know what he’s gonna say?”

“I can’t see the future, Kid, only the past.”


“What did you say his name was, again?” I asked, and Dr. D smiled at me, knowing he’d won.

“Estragon. He lives out in Zone Five, by the old parking lot. About five miles sunny side up. You won’t miss him.”


%


The old parking lot out in Zone five was less of an actual lot and more of a collection of old cracked concrete, and faded and scratched out paint. There was a short wall which was covered in layers of graffiti, like most walls in the zones. The parking lot was one of the many “landmarks” in the zones, and runners used them to give directions, because there weren’t many permanent fixtures. I drifted around the scraps of concrete and to the East, keeping an eye out for anyone.


About five miles, as Dr. D said, there was a beat up trailer, with some deck chairs outside with a plastic folding table and an awning. There was an old dude sitting at them, typing furiously on a holopad. I checked my gun and left the key in the ignition, in case this was all a trap.


“Hello?” I called, making my way over to the guy. The guy looked up, and stuck a hand out to me.


Then I was being pulled towards him by my belt and my dogtags. My hands immediately went to my neck, making sure they weren’t going to strangle me, trying to get him to stop. Fuck, this guy was strong.


“Who are you?”

“K-Kobra! Kobra Kid!” I choked out, and he dropped me, where I was.

“How did you find me?” he demanded, choking me tighter all of a sudden.

When he let my dogtags loose I said, “Dr. D! Dr. Death-Defying sent me.”

“Who?”

“You know, beard, long hair, bandanna, in a wheelchair-” I made the accompanying hand gestures, trying to get this guy to fucking trust me. (And not choke me to death.)

“Ah, Montano.” He nodded, placated, and I sighed in relief, “You must be Michael Way, then.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Montano told me, I don’t like these new ‘codenames’ you kids come up with. They have no respectability. But let us move on, I’m Estragon.”

“Why’d you wanna talk to me, then?”

“Because I heard you worked in BLI.”

“Not anymore, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“How’s Vladimir?”


I didn’t answer him, but I did take my dogtags off and go over to turn the car off. When I came back I pulled up a chair and sat next to him.

“Last I saw him, he was fine.”

“I heard he was in the top ranks of BLI now.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. Why do you care?”


“When I was a boy, we grew up in the immediate aftermath of the pigbombs. The radiation, as you must know, was the strongest and most dangerous at this time. Many people started to develop mutational  side effects, and when it became more apparent that the mutants were stronger than your average citizen, BLI ordered a mass cull. Both me and Vladimir narrowly escaped that cull, and from there we became good friends. We both became incredibly interested in promoting mutant rights, and preventing a mass murder like the one that had killed many of our friends. We were very close.


“However, that was where our political objectives differed. Vladimir wished to gain rights through the proper channels, by appealing to BLI and asking them to reconsider their stance. I was a more reckless and angry youth. I wanted to dismantle BLI entirely, a much more ambitious goal.


“Vladimir disagreed with this, as he believed that for all its faults, BLI still has peace and unity in the City, and that is something it should be praised for. I said that his so-called ‘peace and unity’ were simply side-effects of it’s dictatorial regime.


“He told me I was going to get myself killed, and that he was not going to wait for my metaphorical Godot to come and fix everything. Then he went and joined BLI. I suppose I should let go of him, but I can’t help thinking he was right, if not about all things, then about some things.”


We sat in silence for a while, contemplating what he’d said. “Wait-he's a mutant? What the fuck does he do?”

Estragon just laughed, his face finally cracking into a smile. “He can read minds.”

“So he-all this time, he probably knew,”

“Well, if he’s anything like the Vladimir I once knew, he wouldn’t have hesitated if he thought it was right.”


%


I drove up to the gas station, finishing up my delivery run for Hot Mess. Hot Mess had told me that this specific letter was very important and contained valuable information, so it was not a letter that could be just left on the diner’s welcome mat. I trudged into the diner, swinging the door open wide, and calling out their names.


Instead I was met with the faces of five Killjoys sitting at the diner booth and looking straight at me.

“Kobra Kid’s delivery service, I get it to you or I’m dead!” I joked, smiling at them. We’d gotten to a point where we were able to joke around, but not have serious conversations. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to trust them like that, yet; and I don’t think they were quite ready to let go of their negative opinions of me. We made it work, though. And Ray and Gerard trusted me, and they’re what matters. They’re what I’m doing this for.

Gerard giggled, and so did Ray. Frank, most surprisingly, laughed the loudest, but even Brian and Bob cracked a smile.


“Here you go,” I said, dropping Hot Mess’s letter on the table and sliding it over to Gee. “That’s it for today, I’ll see you guys later.”


“Wait!” Brian said, grabbing my wrist loosely, and then dropping it. More of a way to catch my attention than trying to keep me there. Good move. “Take a seat,” he gestured to the space beside Ray, and I took it. It was a tight fit, and I kind of had to sit half on Ray’s lap, but Ray didn’t seem to mind much.


“So, I. Saw something, the other night. And it made me realise, I was a bit rash in judging you. So I wanted to apologise for that.” Brian said, looking focused and serious again.

“Okay, apology accepted,” I said uneasily, because I had a feeling that wasn’t the last of what he had to say.


“What I. Saw made me realise-”

“Made us realise,” Frank piped in.

“Made us realise the Killjoys need you.” Gerard finished, “We really want you to run with us, Mikey. Please?”


I stood up and patted myself down. “Well, if that’s all, I’m meeting Tough Cookie and Urine later, so I better be off.”

“Hang on, what?” Frank exclaimed, frowning at me.

“What?” I said, shrugging.

“So are you gonna, or not?”

“No, you know my feelings on this, okay? I’m happy with what I’m doing, and I’m not going to join you just because a stupid vision said I should.”


“You know, tons of runners would jump at the chance,” Bob said, offhandedly.

“Well, I’m not tons of runners. I’ve told you why I don’t want to, and if you care about anything I say - which you should if you want me to join you - you’ll respect that.”

“What is it, do you not trust us?” Ray said in that voice that I knew was concealing anger. I’d heard it before, when he talks about BLI, or about the kids in the city that don’t get a future to choose for themselves.

“No!” I shouted, huffing. I hated that they’d pushed me into admitting that, that they were digging their fingers into my wounds. In that moment, I hated them.


Ray sat back, letting a slow breath out. He pointedly looked away from me.


“BLI is experimenting on mutants.” Gerard said, looking me straight in the eyes. We must have grown apart more than I thought, because I couldn’t place his expression.

I clenched my jaw. “Not my problem.”

“People you helped capture, Mikey. You need to help them.”

“No! You know what, fuck you! Fuck you for shoving what I did in my face, what I did to protect you. Why don’t you say that shit to Ray, huh? He’s just as bad as me. He did exactly the same fucking thing, so why do you keep acting like I’m the villain here?” I exploded, and there was silence.


“Cut the crap, Mikey. You know you did tons more than me. You know they trusted me as far as they could throw me. Don’t pretend what you did was justified. Stop pretending like you’re innocent.” Ray suddenly cut in, icy and cool. He always knew how to cut deep when he wanted to, just like me.


“You think I don’t? You think I don’t have nightmares about it, you don’t think that losing control like that is my worst fucking nightmare? Don’t you remember what I was doing the first time you met me? I’d just ordered fucking Buddy Nielsen to be ghosted because he was buying the same kind of pills you like so much. He was twenty-four. He was my age. You think I had fun, that I enjoyed it? I don’t want to think about BLI. I want to forget about them, about the city, and live my life in peace. That’s all I ever fucking wanted!” I screamed at them, tears leaking down my face. I wiped them angrily with my handkerchief and tried not to start bawling.


The next thing I knew, Gerard was hugging me tightly, whispering “It’s okay, it’s okay,” in my ear. I was getting tears and snot all over their shirt, but they didn’t seem to mind.


I didn’t want to look at the other Killjoys, it was so embarrassing. I could never come within a 50-mile radius of them now, this was just the fucking worst.


Gerard patted my back and soothed me, telling me it was fine, they were sorry, that they never meant to push me. I looked up, at everyone there, and suddenly I felt impressively young. I felt like the little boy I was, who just wanted his big brother to fix it all.


I hunched further into their chest, and let them pull me outside the diner. They then pulled back, holding both my hands in theirs and looking up at me. “I’m sorry, Mikes. I know-I know it’s tough, okay? And tougher for you than most.”

“I-I didn’t ask for that, Gee. I didn’t wanna be an Exterminator. I just wanted you to be safe,” I sobbed, unable to quite control my tears.


“Sometimes I forget,” he started, “I forget that I’m the big brother. You do such a good job of taking care of me, and I was too fucked up to do the same for you.”

“No, no-” I protested, but they shushed me.

“I’m really, really sorry, Mikes. And I wanna make that up to you. And I want you to join the Killjoys for a bit of a selfish reason. I wanna keep you by my side, ‘cause I wanna make sure you’re always safe. You’re my best man, Mikeyway.” They stroked my face, wiping my tears away and tucking my hair back behind my ears. “I forgot, you’re just a kid. You act so - so grown up, and in control, and I forget I’m the older one. You’re twenty-four, Mikey, you shouldn’t have had to make half the choices you have. I wanna make it up to you, Mikes. I really do. Will you let me?”


I swallowed dryly, and sucked the snot back into my nose. “Okay, okay,” I said hoarsely, “a test run.”

Gerard’s face cracked into a smile, so wide I could see all of their tiny teeth, and they gave me a tight, tight hug. “I’m not gonna let you down this time, Mikey. I’m gonna make it up to you.”


We went back into the diner, and the others broke off their conversation abruptly, leaning back into the booth, all eyes on me.

I cleared my throat, and said, “Okay.”


“Okay?” Brian asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll give it a try. But no promises.”


I noticed Bob smiling first, his eyes matching the color of the streak dyed into his bangs. Frank look ecstatic, and even Brian looked happy. I wasn’t sure why they wanted me so bad, but they really must have been counting on me joining them.


I looked at Ray, and he looked apologetic, biting his lip and patting at the space next to him on the diner booth. I nodded, and slipped in next to him, and I grabbed his hand and held it.


“Okay. So how are we going to fuck BLI up?” I asked, and everyone started cheering.

 

 

 

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August 2014

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