How to Survive in Zone 1, Chapter 2: A Mission From Hell

“Rise and shine, little sister!” I was awake in an instant when someone kicked my mattress. As I blinked in the morning light and let my brain process, I knew who it was immediately.

“Fuck off, Speedy. I said from under the covers, my voice muffled as I pulled the blanket back over my head.

“Uh uh uh, sister, you’ve got a mission to attend to.” I could hear the mocking grin in Speedy's voice.

“The mission can wait, I was out all last night on their Goddamned missions...” I tried to ignore Speedy until he ripped my threadbare quilts off of me, exposing me to the light.

“Look alive, Princess.” He grinned at me mockingly as I glowered up at him, the sun burning my eyes.

“Call me Princess one more time. I dare you.” I growled.

“Well isn’t someone touchy this morning.” He snickered. I narrowed my eyes and waited for him to realize he was in trouble. His eyes widened once he felt the waves of anger rolling off me and tried to bolt, but I was too fast for him. I flew at him, tackling him to the ground and wrestling with him, eventually gaining the upper hand even though he had a taller reach. I  perched on his back, putting his arm into a kimura hold, about to force him to tap out, when a voice rang out across the warehouse.

"Tear Gas Terror, git off him right now!" I was ripped backwards by my collar and dropped on the floor, leaving me to stare up at the large black lady who was glowering down at me furiously. "An' don't you even THINK about sneaking off, Mr. Suicidal Speed Demon." I looked over and winced as Speedy stopped in his tracks and turned back slowly to face the towering wall of formidable flesh that was Ma.

She didn’t have a fun Killjoy name; she didn’t need one. Everyone in the Zones, including me, Speedy, and even the Big 4 themselves knew (and feared) Ma. She ran the largest Killjoy outpost in all of the Zones besides Dr. Death-Defying’s in Zone 6. Enough Killjoys went in and out of her place a day to number in the hundreds, staying long enough to refuel and get a decent meal and then jet off to save the world some more.

“Just what in the Good Lord’s name do you think you two were doin’?” Ma’s hands went to her hips. I cringed. We were in for it now.

“I would whoop you myself, Tear Gas, but right now, there’s four Fabulous Killjoys in my kitchen waitin’ for you, so I suggest you git downstairs and quit makin’ them wait.” Ma glared at me, but allowed me to grab my shoes and jacket before sneaking past her and heading for the makeshift kitchen on the first floor. Our outpost was an old abandoned air force storage unit, far enough out of Battery City for the Dracs to disregard it and close enough for me to get into the City regularly. I slept on the second floor ovehang, along with Speedy and any other Killjoys passing through. We had about 50 mattresses up there, allowing the place to accommodate plenty of Killjoys. I flew over and around the mattresses, everyone except a few already downstairs. I hurried down the fire escape that connected the first and second floors and walked briskly past the rows of picnic tables containing a bunch of Killjoys. I waved to those I knew but kept walking, moving past them hurriedly. I was lucky I’d slept in my clothes, or else I’d be sunk. The Big 4 did not like to be kept waiting, and if they were here in person, this must be a huge assignment. Meaning I was in for it from them too.

“Where the Hell is she?” I heard Party Poison’s voice just before I hung a right and skidded into the kitchen. I slowed down and waited a moment to catch my breath, partially because I wanted to seem somewhat less of a doofus to the Big 4 than I currently seemed and partially because I wanted to hear what they had to say. Hey, I’m a perpetual sneak, it doesn’t just go away!

“Leave the kid alone, Party, she was up all night getting shot at on a mission you sent her on. She’s 15, she needs sleep even more than we do.” I grinned at Jet Star’s defense of me and skidded into the kitchen like I’d just ran in.

“Sorry, I had to-”I was cut off by a huge hug from Fun Ghoul.He’d shaved his long, nearly-black, chin-length locks off, leaving him with a fuzzy head. His face was dirt-smudged and slightly older, but still generally the same.

“Nice of you to join us." He ruffled my hair as I batted his hand away.

“Come on now Ghoul, leave her alone.” Jet Star engulfed me in a hug. “How ya been, kiddo?”

"Y'know, just getting shot at outside various BLI outposts, the usual.” I smiled back as he released me. “I’m sure y’all don’t remember such a thing, considering you have me doing all your dirty work. And Ghoul's just jealous because I'm taller than him now." I grinned triumphantly at Ghoul’s offended expression

“Hey, Terror.” Kobra Kid hugged me awkwardly at first, as if I was suddenly a foreign creature to him, being almost two years older than when they all saw me last. Eventually he hugged me tightly, however, remembering the old days just as I was.

“Yes, Kobra, it's still me, I'm just taller." I grinned cheekily at his discomfort. Kobra was usually somewhat quiet and awkward, so I was used to it.

“Hi.” Party Poison stood and smiled wearily at me. Being leader of the Killjoys had obviously worn him down significantly. His red hair was grown out, calling to be redyed, and lines were worn into his face, making him seem older than his 35 years.

“Hi, Party.” I hugged him, breathing the mixed scent of BO, gasoline and a faint bit of explosives. We pulled back as I looked at him. “What were you blowing up around two days ago? BLI outpost or destroying evidence?”

The whole group chuckled. Party ran a hand through his bright, dyed-red hair. "Terror, I've never figured out how you could do that. I’ve missed you, kiddo.” He grinned at me as we all sat around the kitchen table.

“Then let me come with you again, like the old days. We all loved it, and it would make my missions so much easier.”  I pleaded with them, chewing my lip. “I’ve been stuck here ‘fighting the good fight’ for two whole fucking years, I think it’s about time you let me ride with y’all again!” I was slipping back into my old accent, the one that made me so easily identified and the one I worked so hard to hide.

“You know we can’t do that, sunshine.” Party looked at me seriously. I jumped out of my seat, knocking the mismatched chair backwards with a loud smack.

“Why the fuck not, huh? It’s not like I'm baggage anymore!" Party stood up angrily. "I'm the best fighter you have, the best spy, the best shot with any raygun you got, the best hacker this side of the BC, the best lockpick! I'm not a little kid anymore, Party, and I'm getting awfully sick of you using me for your stupid missions and then ignoring me for the next two years. I'm not your fucking robot, and I will not work for someone just as bad as BLI." With that parting shot, I banged open the side door and stormed out of the kitchen, into the harsh desert sunlight. I paced back and forth a few steps before whirling around and throwing my fist into the steel exterior of the warehouse. My knuckles radiated pain as I screamed obscenities and sunk to the hard-packed, sunbaked sand, my head rolling back to lean against the warehouse my back was pressed up to. I was awfully good at royally fucking up.

"Are you done?" My head whipped towards the sound of the voice. Ghoul stood in front of the door, an old first-aid kit in one hand and an ice pack in the other. Both things were exceedingly rare, leaving us to be one of the only outposts that had some. I glared at Ghoul as he walked towards me, gingerly taking my injured hand and cleaning it with a wet washcloth he produced from somewhere.

"Do you remember, back when you were 10 years old, that time  you got so mad at Party for making you stay in the car you hotwired the Trans Am and drove off?" Ghoul chuckled, cleaning the thick dirt from my hand. "We ran back to the car after blowing up some headquarters or something with 20 Dracs on our ass and went, 'Fuck, they jacked the Trans and took Terror!' We were all so fucking freaked until you just drove up casually, the car doors locked, cracked the window and said, 'Can I come with you next time?' You made Party pinkie swear before you let us in."

I chuckled in spite of myself. I remembered pieces of that day vaguely, like having to stretch to reach the pedals and being afraid they were gonna leave me, like everyone else had. That, and the absolute fury on Party’s face. Hilarious.

"This is gonna hurt." Ghoul cautioned as he soaked the rag with antiseptic and pressed it gently to me battered knuckles. I inhaled sharply as he dabbed gently at the wounds, tears coming to my eyes. I was tougher than that, though, and kept myself from crying out through sheer willpower.

"Okay, let's wrap you up." He took the rag off my now-clean hand and pulled out an often-washed bandage, tightly wrapping my hand. “You know he loves you, Terror, we all do. Hell, I'm the one that found you, for Pete's sake. But you don't get how bad it is out there. We have targets painted on our backs, and to risk you out there, our best spy, but more importantly, our little sister, well, we just couldn't."

"That's bullshit, Ghoul, and you know it." I turned angrily. "I'm better trained than most of your Clan leaders, and know twice as much. You've been trying to get rid of me since you first laid eyes on me, and that I can get over, but when you claim to be doing it for my protection, just to make it easier a pill for all of you to swallow, well, that's fucking two-faced. At least be honest with me, dammit!" I turned started to stand but flexed my injured knuckles in the process, causing me to scream in pain and flop back onto my butt. I turned away, my eyes welling up. I'd got my name partially because of my wild temper, but partially because of my body's need to cry whenever I get angry. My eyes well up and I can't control it to save my life.

"Terror, what the fuck is wrong with you? For such a smart girl you're being fucking stupid. Of course we love you! Me especially!" Ghoul tried to convince me.

"Then why has it been two whole years since I've seen you last, huh?" I whirled around to face him, my eyes swelling. "And don't you dare say the Rebellion's keeping you away, because I keep hearing about all the trips you've made up here." I glared menacingly.

Ghoul was silent. His face went from confusion shock to realization as he realized just how this looked to me. Running a hand over his now-short hair, he stared at the ground.

"Jeez, Terror. I never realized..." He looked up at me mournfully.

“Yeah, well... You guys are still my family. Ma’s nice, and Speedy’s my best friend, but... it’s not the same. You wouldn’t believe the whispers and stares I get all the time from those who don’t know me, purely from running with you. And the worst part is, I know I don’t belong here. They’re not my family.” I exhaled, looking away. “My family dumped me here to be someone else’s problem.”

“You’re not a problem, Terror. You’re never been a problem. We do still love you.”

“Funny way to show it.”

“You’re making me feel like a terrible person, Olivia.” He said, his voice full of pain. Once he real-names me, I always give in and he knew it. I scooted over to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around me, just like he had when I was little. I snuggled into the familiar scent of my childhood; motor oil, explosives, and BO.

“You need to take a shower, Ghoul.” I wrinkled my nose.

“You need to forgive us, go back in there and get your assignment.” He rested his chin on top of my head. I knew before the war that Ghoul had had twin daughters and a wife. They’d died in the early bombings while he’d been out working, maybe a month before he’d formed the Fabulous Killjoys with the rest of the guys, his good friends from before, and maybe 2 years before he’d found me. I knew I was the closest thing to a kid he’d had since the bombings, and he was the closest thing I’d ever had to a father. They all shared the role, but Ghoul had found me, named me and saved my ass numerous times. I’d done the same for him, but hey, who’s counting?

After a few minutes, Ghoul released me. We both stood, facing each other. “Look, this mission’s huge. It could change this whole crazy war in our favor. This isn’t just about us anymore, Terror. We need you.” He looked at me seriously. “Hey, if this goes well, I’ll talk to Party, and who knows, maybe he’ll let you come with us.” My face lit up, causing him to chuckle. “I know they’ve missed you just as much as I have. You just need to do this one from here, okay?”

I sighed. “Okay.” I hugged him, realizing just how much taller I was than him.

“What did you do to your hair, knucklehead?” He picked out my lime-green streaks.

“How about you, huh? Yours is just a bit more drastic, don’t ‘cha think?” I rubbed his head.

“The second that Drac called me ‘Miss’ we all knew it was all coming off.” He rubbed his head and grinned at me as we walked back into the warehouse kitchen.

“Well, you always were the feminine one.” I teased as he held he door for me.

“No, that’s that redheaded dude over there.” Ghoul pointed across the room to Party.

“What about me?” Party looked up.

“Terror, you came back!” Kobra hugged me again.

“Of course she came back, moron, we’re her family.” Jet Star hugged me.

“Moron, huh?” Kobra crossed his arms.

“We need to talk, man.” I looked over to see Ghoul and Party talking in hushed tones. Party looked up at me and, seeing me watching, moved to the table to sit down. We all did the same, Jet Star and Kobra still bickering.

“Okay, come here.” I stood and walked to the other end of the table, the rest of the guys pulling their chairs in closer, trying to see the papers Party was unrolling.

“We have new information on this project they keep advertising all over the city.” Party’s voice dropped to a whisper. While we trusted most Killjoys, we still couldn’t be too careful. "From what we can tell, they're planning some sort of ray."

"Ray? Why's that a big deal?" I looked down at the papers to see a tall structure like the skeletons of old cell phone towers we'd seen in abandoned suburbs. "We've dealt with those before."

"Not like this." Party pointed to the core of the structure. "The electron reactor in the middle transmits a signal that modifies the wavelength of certain brainwaves in humans, causing free will, independence and creativity to become undesirable."

"Just like the pill." I said quietly.

"Worse." Party took out a stack of papers and placed them on the table next to the map. "This can be broadcast over all the Zones. It has a 98% success rate on citizens, 99% on Dracs, and 95% on Killjoys."

"They've already tested it on Killjoys, not to mention other people?!" I inhaled sharply. "These bastards make me sick."

"It would make the Pills obsolete." Jet Star shuffled through the studies. "They could even bend Killjoys to their will."

"This is like nothing we've ever dealt with before." Ghoul studied the schematics before looking up at Party. "We need to stop this thing."

"How in the Holy Hannah are we supposed to do that?" I looked at Party.

"Seek and destroy. Simple as that." Party leaned over the schematics. "Show her, Kobra."

"The electron reactor right here," Kobra pointed to the tower's center, "is connected to the super computer in BLI headquarters in the middle of the city. From there, you can program the whole thing, if you can get into the system. The hard part, of course," He pushed his glasses back up on his nose, shuffling the schematics around to find a diagram of the headquarters, "is getting into this thing. It's fortified like a castle with more Dracs than a Pill party with lots of reason to take you out." Kobra pointed to a room on the top floor in the very center. "The computer's up here. You'd have about an hour to get up there and fry this sucker while we divert the attention of all the other Dracs." Kobra and the others grinned at each other.

"We want to send someone with you, too." Party said, grabbing a file out of his backpack.

"Not a chance." I shook my head. "This is a solo job, Party, and someone else will just slow me down."

"Well there's no way in Hell I'm sending you into the middle of the top BLI headquarters in Battery City by yourself!" Party glared at me.

"There's no way I'm taking some moron in with me!" I put my hands on my hips, glaring indignantly. "Especially someone I don't know and haven't trained with. This needs to be done right, Party, and I'm not risking someone else."

"But-" Party started.

"No."

"Come on, Terror-" Ghoul tried to reason with me

"Not a chance. I'm good by myself, guys, really. If you don't believe me, then, well, I just won't do it." I crossed my arms over my chest, looking firm.

"Damn you and your independence." Party looked from me to Ghoul. "I think she's got us beat. Fine. You'll go in by yourself." I cheered as Ghoul sputtered, outraged. "But," Party held up one hand, "if there's even the slightest bit of trouble, we'll send this guy in after you, got it?" Party smacked the folder on the table.

"Got it, chief." I grinned. "I can do this."

"Great. We'll discuss details later." Party nodded to me.

"Awesome. Now, about this car I... ahem... found yesterday..."

Killer Laser Rays (Zone 2 Killjoys) Part 1: Alabama

I hate to say it, but I’ve always been one of those people who’s haunted by guilt.

I sat on the edge of the 4th floor of the bombed out apartment building we’d been hiding out in for the past few years as the sun rose slowly over the wasted landscape of crumbling buildings and rubble. The side of the building facing the east had no wall, so I could let my feet dangle as I gazed on the eternally bright lights of Battery City becoming overwhelmed by the only thing brighter than them in our new world. Nowadays, only the sun outshone Battery City, seeing as how the rest of the world was either still flaming, turned into rubble, or sunken into the ocean.

I was usually up early, but not this early. The dreams that had been plaguing me recently were coming back more frequently, making sleep more and more unattainable. My mother’s voice still rang in my head. We’re going to play a game, honey. You hide in here and don’t make a sound. I’d sat in the bottom of the linen closet as she’d packed me in with towels and sheets, making me invisible. No matter what, don’t come out. Not even if Daddy or I call you. I could see through the slats in the closet as she’d opened the door to the men, who’d forced their way in and torn the house apart, loudly questioning my mother. She’d stayed calm, though I could plainly see when she’d packed me into the closet that she was terrified. I’d stayed quiet, barely daring to breathe, when the men in white suits came up to my mother and grabbed her by the arm, holding her still as a white suit had taken out a raygun and put it up to her temple. I’d seen those before in my father’s sock drawer, but was told not to touch them.

The man’s voice had dropped to almost a whisper as he said something to my mother, her squirming away from the man holding her. He said something threatening, causing my mother to stare him down before spitting right in his face. He recoiled but recovered quickly, pulling the trigger that changed my life. My mother collapsed to the ground, a stunned expression still on her face. The men in white suits hadn’t even reacted, just standing over her for a moment before dragging her body further into the house and continuing their search. It was almost an hour before they’d opened the linen closet and found me. I’d kicked and squirmed, tears running down my face as they dragged me out of the closet, past the body of my dead mother and out into the lawn. They’d been walking towards a car they’d had waiting, me in tow, when one collapsed, the other one right behind him. I’d wiggled out of their grasp and run away from them and back towards the house, when I realized it was burning, so hot it hurt my face. I was scooped up by someone else as I continued crying, my will to fight completely diminished. I’d looked up to see G.I. Geronimo, what I called him now, staring down at me as he’d hustled me away from the flaming house. I was tucked into his jacket to keep me warm, my white sundress not nearly enough outdoors.

We’re going to play a game. I ran through it in my head again and again as the sun rose, warming my face. Don’t make a sound.

“Hey.” My best friend, Disco Destroya, sat down next to me on the ledge, snapping me out of my terrifying daydream. He wiped away tears I hadn’t even realized were there, leaking out of my eyes. I breathed deeply, calming myself.

“Dreams again?” He asked softly, wiping my eyes. I merely nodded, not speaking for fear my voice would crack and wake the others. My gang slept behind me on mattresses, blankets, pieces of carpet, whatever we could find. I turned forward again, silently observing the sunrise as Disco’s presence calmed me. I was most self-destructive when I was alone.

We sat watching the rising sun for another few minutes before rising to wake the others. Disco knew about the dreams and my hatred of discussing them, as with most of my feelings. I was tough, a fortress of unmoving stone, not some soft, girly twat who needed to be cuddled and caressed. He was the only one who knew, however, and I knew I could talk to him if I needed to. I just convinced myself I didn’t need to.

I started the cooking fire we used every day as Disco opened a can of dog mush to eat with a loaf of stale bread we’d traded a neighboring gang for. I took out our prized skillet and flopped the bread-and-dog mush sandwiches Disco prepared into it. Frying them made them easier to down.

Once the smell of food drifted through the room, the rest of the gang began to stir. G.I. was up first, being the leader, and walked over to me, motioning for me to let him take over. I did so and stood to wake the others.

I walked over to the small mattress I shared with Mighty Mouse and Blastzone Babydoll, kneeling down to wake them when I noticed a pair of eyes staring at me from under the threadbare quilt. Babydoll then burst out of the covers, leaping at me. I acted terrified, as if she actually scared me, not needing words, considering Babydoll was deaf. We’d devised signs to help her communicate over the years, considering the explosion Mighty Mouse had found her after had also left her mute. She was only about six months old when we found her after a bomb went off nearby. In the early days, the Dracs had bombed the Zones continuously, trying to kill off as many as possible who wouldn’t conform. We lost most of the older gang members that way, except for G.I, our fearless leader.

I mimed eating to Babydoll, who nodded enthusiastically and skipped over to where G.I. was frying mush sandwiches. I then walked around the mattress to where Mighty Mouse slept, chewing her lips as usual.

“Mighty Mouse…” I sang softly, shaking her shoulder gently. “Time to get up…”

“Wha…” She blinked her eyes open to look at me, her dark, curly hair swirling around her pale face.

“Come on, kiddo, get up.” I rubbed her shoulder gently. She sat up and stretched, a huge yawn escaping her lips.

“Go eat, okay, we need to get moving soon.” She stood with me and wandered over to the smell of food as I moved on to the next mattress.

“Guys, get up.” I shook the twins roughly, knowing they could sleep through a hurricane should they want to. Lightning Laserstrike sat up to look at me first.

“Morning, Alabama.” He smiled sleepily at me, his long hair blocking most of his face. I pushed it out of the way as he sat up, rolling off the mattress towards the smell of food.

“I’m gonna chop all that hair off you one day.” I chuckled. And then I observed the still-sleeping form of his twin brother, Raging Radiohead.

“Get up, sleepy.” I kicked the mattress, eliciting a moan from the blob on the mattress.

“How about you come down here, beautiful?” Rage grabbed my wrist and pulled me down onto the mattress with him, engulfing me in a hug.

“Get off me before I kick your ass all the way to Zone 6.” I tried to shove him off me, but his grip was too tight.

“Get off her now, Rage, before I come over there and kick your ass all the way to Zone 6.” G.I. called from across the room. Everyone else started laughing as he finally released me, laying belly-up on his mattress.

“Ugh, you guys are no fun.” He yelped as I stepped on his stomach on my way over to the cooking fire. G.I. handed me a mush sandwich as I sat next to Disco around the fire, taking a sip of the crushed canteen we all shared. Drinking water was a precious resource in Zone 2 especially, since every other rain shower ended up with acid in it. Bathing could be done in that water, since the acid content out here was relatively low, but drinking it could kill you.

We ate quickly and split up, preparing for battle. We each had a white raygun, considering they littered the Zones still, as well as whatever else we could find.

“Mighty Mouse, come here.” I beckoned the girl to me. She was only 12, so I still held some sway over her.

“Yeah, Alabama?” I motioned for her to sit between my knees as I loosed her wild dark brown hair and began to rebraid it, tucking away all of her loose ends. I finished off by tying her precious pink cloth at the end, one of the few pieces of color she still had. Her old white dress was stained and torn, barely coming to an inch above her knees. We’d need to find her a new one soon, I noted.

I finished up and tapped her gently. “Go on, kiddo.” She got up and went over to Babydoll, straightening her dress and fixing her hair. I stood up and pushed up the sleeves of the leather jacket I’d found, pulling on my old combat boots and gently handling my Wolverine knives. I strapped the knife blades sewn into a leather strip to my hands, looking like the X-Men character’s girlfriend. I’d inherited them from an old gang member who’d died years ago, taking them off her body along with the shirt and jeans I wore now before the Dracs came for her. We needed all the resources we could find, never wasting anything.

Disco stashed the few things we kept here behind some loose bricks and leaned the mattresses against the wall over them, not risking anything being stolen. We had too few of anything for it to be stolen.

After surveying the place, G.I. nodded, satisfied. “Let’s scram.”

How to Survive Zone 1, Chapter 1: A Spy's Gotta Do

I breathed slowly, trying to keep silent as the last Drac patrol walked past me. It was always surprising, no matter how many times I saw them, how uniform and straight Dracs walked. I knew it was just another side effect of the Pills, but it still freaked me out. Pulling my shoulder in closer to the pesticide-drenched and finely manicured tree, I twisted my neck to watch them walk away, counting to five after it had marched out of sight. I quickly padded silently to the other side of the massive 3-story rectangle, staying out of range of the lone entrance security camera. This place was so poorly equipped, I could hack it in my sleep.

I took out the battered old laptop I’d been given for this purpose, connecting it to the keypad all Dracs used for easy access before uploading the newest virus I’d been given. It’d shut down the security system in a way that was undetectable, allowing me to slip right in the front door. Once the system was in place, I hurried in the front door and down the first hallway immediately to my left, pressing my back against the white wall and peeking around the corner. Seeing no one, I ducked back out into the hallway, jogging to the end, where an elevator stood open. Jumping into it, I pressed the three button, taking it straight to the top. The schematics had said I was supposed to head to the left, taking the third hallway I came to on my right and getting to the door at the end of the room. Apparently, that room had the info I needed. I snuck into the room, which was dark besides the glow from the computer screens, in front of which a doofus in a white outfit and Drac mask sat. I walked up behind him, raygun in hand, and brought the butt of my gun down on his head. The man flopped out of his chair, unconcious, at which point I tied him up quickly and flopped down into his chair, cracking my knuckles. The watch on my wrist beeped, telling me I had 10 minutes to get out of there. Piece of cake.

I typed furiously, bypassing the code to enter the system and getting straight into their system. I connected the flashdrive into the computer, downloading the seek-and-destroy virus I’d been given, waiting for it to load. My watch beeped again. Seven minutes. A new record. I smiled to myself as I pulled my switchblade from my right high-top, quickly carving my initials into the imitation wood desk. The Drac on the floor started moaning. I cursed silently. I knew I should’ve hit him harder.

“Stay right there, pal, or you’ll end up barbecued with a side of roast mask.” I kept my raygun on him as the computer beeped, signalling my exit. I yanked the flashdrive out of its socket and waved.

“Tell your superiors Terror was here.” I grinned, opening the window to the left and tying a rope to the tree outside. “They’ll know who I am.” I slid down the rope Tarzan-style, landing on my feet on the ground. Above me, I heard yelling, meaning I’d probably made my escape not a moment too soon. Sneaking around the corner to grab my laptop, I returned to see some blockheads finding my bike, which had been carefully stashed under some bushes. I cursed under my breath and went back the way I came, looking for anything to jack without making too much of a scene. And then I spotted a beautiful black ‘69 Mustang, with the split rear window and everything. She was parked towards the back, just gathering rust. They didn’t deserve her.

I crawled underneath and quickly located the car’s tracker, disabling it quickly before climbing back out, picking the lock and hopping in the driver’s seat. I checked all over, finding no keys. I didn’t want to hotwire such a beauty, so, remembering an old movie I’d seen a long time ago, I flipped down the visor meant to keep the sun out of your eyes and there fell the keys, right in my lap. Grinning at my good luck, I started her up and pressed the gas, shooting around the corner and out into the desert. Behind me I could see the white suits against the inky blackness of the desert sky at midnight, shooting after me in a rage. I swerved some, making me impossible to hit until I got far enough away to be out of sight.

After a few minutes of driving, the adrenaline started wearing off, leaving me exhausted, but pleased. This was a great car. Maybe I’d even get to keep her! Excited at the prospect, I kept driving, eager to get home and get some sleep. My watch beeped again. I turned it off. It was 2 am, and that’s all I cared to know.