Look Alive Sunshine.

After they had finished eating, Party Poison pulled out their battered map and spread it on the counter, showing Grace the different Zones that the state was divided into. Zone One was the former city of Los Angeles, a place that had been almost completely destroyed in the riots. Only a few people occupied it now and they were mostly insane. The majority of the population was concentrated in zones two and three, living on the dole outs they received from the Corporation. In order to live in Zone Four, you needed a special permit from the Doctor himself. Zone Five was No Access without a pass and Six...

Zone Six was home of Battery City, the fortress of the Doctor and his head Draculoids. The Killjoys had never made it into Zone 6. The security was ridiculously tight and the Doctor had cameras everywhere, documenting those who he deemed to be of interest.

But that was their goal: to reach the Doctor in his lair and take back the state. They were only in Zone Four, making frequent scouting parties to figure out the best way into the other zones.

"So, we want to get into Zone 6," Grace said slowly, pointing at the area on the map. "And we're right here."

"Yep," Party Poison said. "But because the bad men are everywhere, we can't even get into Zone 5 yet."

"It's time!" Kobra Kid called from the kitchen and Party Poison and Grace went back to where Fun Ghoul was adjusting the knobs on a small radio. It had been a child's at one point and they had felt bad about taking it but the house had been abandoned. Most houses this far into the desert were.

Once a week, the Doctor made an official statement over the radio. This was immediately followed up on another channel by 'Doctor' Death Defy. He was a resister, like themselves and the Doctor always included an execution order for his rival in each of his programs. Tonight's was no different.

"Hello citizens," he said. His voice sounded like a snake speaking through a human. It was disgusting how sly he was. "Hopefully you are all well! First things first, I must unfortunately announce that the food ration will be slightly reduced from four cans of beans to two this week." For ten minutes, he rambled on about stuff like this; complete bullshit that was meant to keep his people firmly in his grasp. Finally, at the end of his program, he said what they'd been waiting to hear.

"And finally, we have our weekly list of those dissenters who, unfortunately, must be executed. Doctor Death Defy, as always, has a bounty upon on his head. Anyone who leads to his capture, whether it be dead or alive, will be able to live in Zone 6 and receive anything they want for the rest of their lives." Jet Star snorted, shaking his head.

"In addition to this, we are looking for any information about a group of men who call themselves the Killjoys. They are wanted for the death of one Draculoid and the severe injury of another. Anyone with information should tell your supervisor immediately."

"Before we get through, they'll have a lot more dead than that," Kobra Kid muttered. The other men nodded before Fun Ghoul reached forward and twiddled the knob until he found the other Doctor's distinctive voice.

"You're here with me, Doctor Death Defy and once again, the Bald Man has been struck a blow!" Grace giggled and the Killjoys couldn't help but smile at the sound. "It seems like he's lost two of his cronies to the resistance movement. Way to go brothers. Someday, we will prevail." The rest of the program continued with the real news that the Corporation hid from its people. More structures in Los Angeles had collapsed and five people had been executed for hoarding food.

The sky was beginning to darken by the time the program finished and they quickly shut the radio off. Any light, no matter how small, would give away their location. As it was, one of them was always on watch, listening for the motorcycles or, what they dreaded most: the purr of the Doctor's engine in his sleek, black car.

The Draculoids were nothing, mere simpletons, compared to him. Thankfully, he rarely ever ventured out of Zone 6 and they had only caught site of him once, cruising down the highway and surrounded by a practical fleet of the bulky motorcycles. He hadn't seen them, observing from the top of a hill and they hadn't wanted him to.

All in good time.

Jet Star took the first watch, laser gun across his lap. He sat in one of the booths that were beside the door, peering out into the desert behind the slightly opened blinds. The wind kicked up the sand slightly but other than that, there was no sign of anyone in the godforsaken wasteland. He sat his gun on the table and continued to look out, motionless. Spread out throughout the room, he could hear the soft sounds of the other men breathing. Grace had curled up on a pile of their extra clothes near Fun Ghoul, clutching his sleeping bag with one hand. Jet Star thought it was cute how attached she was to him and vice versa.

Out in the darkness, something moved. He caught it in his peripheral vision and his fingers snatched up his gun, pointing it at the window. A Draculoid was coming up over a crest of sand, weaving back and forth. Jet Star realized that it was the one they had knocked off his bike. His white pants were streaked with dirt and one of his legs dragged behind with each step he took towards the diner. His jacket flapped in the breeze.

Jet Star moved swiftly to each man, waking him up and alerting them of the situation. They were instantly awake, each pulling their gun out of their holster and creeping toward the door. Fun Ghoul had slipped his Frankenstein mask onto his head and, as an afterthought, Jet Star and Kobra Kid did the same, pulling on their helmets. Only Party Poison left his face unshielded. Grace still slept on the floor, unaware of the possible battle that was about to begin.

The Draculoid stumbled closer, stepping onto the flattened dirt where the road had once been. Two of them crouched in the booths on either side of the door, ready to ambush if he walked through the door. This close, they could see that the knees of his pants were torn open and the skin underneath was no doubt raw and bloody.

"C'mon, stop," Kobra Kid muttered but the enemy showed no signs of doing so. He walked up to the door and pressed his face against the dirt streaked glass, peering inside. They could hear him muttering to himself as he opened the door, stepping inside.

It was the worst decision he'd ever made.

As soon as he had completely entered the restaurant, they were upon him. Fun Ghoul got him with a blow to the stomach before Kobra Kid delivered a hard kick to his left knee. Howling in pain, he dropped to the floor, his cries muffled by his mask. Once he was incapacitated, Party Poison stepped out from the booth and knocked him onto his back, pinning him to the ground with his foot.

"He'll kill you," the Draculoid said and they all sneered, shaking their heads. "He'll find you!"

"Well, if we die, we'll see you in hell." With one laser shot between his eyes, the crony's body stiffened and then relaxed. His muscles slowly loosened but the expression on his mask stayed the same. Bending down, Party Poison lifted the man's mask off, tossing it into the darkness. Although they couldn't make out every detail of his face, the man had been young, probably younger than Fun Ghoul. He had a buzzed head, an emulation of the Doctor. His eyes were shut and, had it not been for the scorch mark on his forehead, he could have been simply sleeping.

They had no time to feel sorrow for him, or to even regard him as a human being. He was an unfortunate sacrifice in their war and there would be more. It was better ten of them died than any one of them.

They quickly searched his body, finding nothing useful. He didn't even have his standard gun on him and they could only conclude that it had gotten lost in the desert. They put his body in the kitchen and headed back to the main room. Grace was awake, staring at the swinging kitchen door. She had retrieved the Draculoid's mask and it was sitting in her lap, staring up at them.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked, gaze unwavering. They all nodded, unsure about to respond.

“We don’t like to kill people,” Jet Star said. “But sometimes...”

“I know,” she replied, setting the mask beside her. “But the bad men probably weren’t always bad.” Fun Ghoul knelt down to talk to her but noticed something first. Picking up the mask, he brought it up to his face, looking into the left eye hole. Inside, barely visible, was a blinking red light the size of a pinprick. Dropping it like it had burned his fingers, he stomped on the mask and they could all hear the tiny crunch from inside.

“He was watching us. He was fucking watching us!” Party Poison grabbed his head in his hands, yanking on his hair. He should have suspected something was unusual as soon as Jet Star told him about the approaching Draculoid. They had announced on the official radio show that one of the Draculoids had been injured; if they knew, why did they leave him out in the desert?

Despite how frustrated he was with his own stupidity, Party Poison ignored these questions. There were more important things to deal with; namely, that The Doctor knew where they were.

They had to leave. Immediately.