I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table as Party walked around the other side of said table, heading towards the coffee machine.
“Dude, it’s my place, let me.” I stood to go and make coffee for them, but Party waved me back down.
“Sit down, I know how to make coffee myself, thank you very much.” I rolled my eyes and sat down.
“Is he always this bad?” I looked over at Ghoul, who had just followed us into the kitchen.
“Yep!” He nodded, grinning cheerfully. “We call him the Car Nazi for a reason.”
“So here’s the deal;” Party sat down, handing Ghoul coffee, which he slurped appreciatively. Coffee was a luxury only the biggest outposts could afford, and it was usually guarded viciously, rarely brought out for consumption. “The first part of your team is in Zone 3, up at Suicide Sally’s. His name’s Space Nuke.” Party dropped the file in front of me. I flipped it open to see a kid, maybe 19, staring back at me, with long dreds and a lopsided smile.
“Okay, what’s his deal?” I tipped my chair backwards, my feet on the table.
“He used to be a Drac.”
“A what?!” My feet hit the ground with a thunk as Ghoul started choking on his coffee.
“You want to put her on a team with-”
“Shut up and let me explain, both of you.” Party said quietly as we both sat staring at him like fish gasping for water. “There’s a clan up at Lulu Laserbrain’s airport that can detox and turn Dracs back to normal. They spend three days with that clan, at which point they get the option to go back to Battery City or stay a Killjoy. That’s what they did with him. He was one of the few who decided to stay. He’s been living up at Suicidal Sally’s with his clan, the California Bombing Squad, for almost a year with no incident. He’s as safe as we are, and he knows Battery City inside and out. We need him.” Party tried to reassure Ghoul, who didn’t seem convinced.
“When are we picking him up?” I looked to Party.
“Well, we’re leaving tomorrow and taking Route Guano, so we should be there in three days.” Party nodded.
Ghoul wasn’t happy. “I don’t want-”
“Ghoul, I don’t care what you want right now, okay?” Party turned to Ghoul, exasperated, before looking at me. “Would you be okay with it?”
“Are you sure he’s safe?” I stared at him.
“Absolutely. Look, how about you decide when we get there and both of you,” Party’s eyes slid to Ghoul, “meet him.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “It’ll be interesting, to say the least. Does he still have his barcode?” I was referring to the barcode that all Dracs had tattooed onto their necks so they could be “scanned” to affirm where they were, like items in an old-fashioned grocery store.
“It’s part of his Killjoy tattoo.” Party took the file from me and rustled through some papers, pulling out a picture of it. The tattoo was awesome, the telltale barcode with a bright red X through it, surrounded by barbed wire with the words, “No more shall perish,” written in cursive at the top with his name underneath in graffiti. I passed it wordlessly to Ghoul to let him look.
“Speaking of tattoos,” I smiled cheekily at them, flipping my eyes back and forth between them. “You know who’s 16th birthday is next month?”
“Oh my God, my little Tear Gas is getting her tattoo.” Ghoul rubbed his hands over his face. “I never said you could grow up!” He moaned, his voice muffled. I was referring, of course, to the coming of age ritual every Killjoy teen got on their 16th birthday, their tattoo that identified them to every other Killjoy out there. On your birthday, you got your very own art anywhere you wanted, done by Neon Zombie, the best (and only) tattoo artist in the Zones, almost like, “Hey, you made it this long, we should probably throw you a bone.” Any kids that didn’t survive to their 16th birthday would get a tattoo, regardless of age, on the back of their hand, a little green ghost with a black X in the background, the international sign for ghosted. I’d only been to a few funerals of that kind, but they were always the worst.
“Hey Party...” I looked over at him. “I was wondering, could you help me design it?” He'd been a cartoonist back in the day, and was just what I needed for what I wanted to get.
“I’d love to, kiddo.” He smiled at me. “We might have to track down Neon before your actual birthday though, considering this whole thing.” He motioned to the air, as if he could stop BLI with some waving.
“Oh darn, how would I ever survive that?” I rolled my eyes and shuffled through some more papers, trying to take in as much info on this stupid thing as possible. It was ending now, and I’d be damned if some stupid tower was standing in the way of my tattoo.
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