Band on the Run

She couldn’t remember how long she had been running. She only knew it was nighttime and the inky skies were her only shield from the men hunting her. She had stopped long enough to catch her breath and shove the remainders of her nutrient bar into her mouth, eyes darting in every direction. Finally though, her legs were cramped and cold and tired, and she could feel her body sway weakly in the breeze. She settled down behind a cluster of sage bushes, leaning against the tangled trunk of a Joshua tree. She kept a vigilant watch on the scenery around her, but couldn’t see much.

At first the sound was distant, but she recognized it at once. It was the gravely roar of an engine, drawing closer at a rapid speed. In the thin moonlight, she could make out the long, curvy shape of a sports car zipping madly across the horizon, leaving clouds of blue and silver dust in its wake. The car took a sharp right and began racing towards her, the engine bellowing its battle cry. Shrieking, she bounded from out of the bushes and began scrambling for an outcrop of granite. But the car was on her now, its headlights illuminating the darkened landscape around her. She dove down behind the rocks, tucking herself into the deepest shadow, hoping whoever was driving the car would lose interest and move on. But she could no longer hear the engine and it wasn’t thundering off into the distance. She held her breath, listening to the sounds of doors opening and closing, then voices whispering to one another. She whimpered softly and sunk down, wrapping her arms around her knees. She could hear boots crunching in the sand, coming closer, but the voices still kept low. She squeezed her eyes shut; not bearing to look up at the men who had come to snatch her away. But hands never came to drag her up from the ground, and the whispering voices were talking to her.

“Are you lost?”

“What’s your name?”

She opened her eyes, at first only staring at the laces of her boots. Her eyes then went to the 2 sets of legs in front of her, traveling up to see their faces. Actual human faces. They wore no masks or make-up and covers, and she saw that one of them was smiling at her.
“Well, are you lost or not?”

She nodded, looking around fearfully, “The van crashed, and I ran away like they told me.”

The taller of the two, a man with a strip on shocking blonde hair hanging over his face, looked out behind his shoulder, “Who is ‘they’?”

She shrugged, wiping at her nose with her fist, “Dunno. People. We were in a van. They took my sister but she didn’t run away fast enough.”

The other man, this one with vibrant red locks, cocked his head and knelt down in front of
her, “If you’d like, we can look for her together.”

At first she hesitated, shrinking away from his hand. Her parents had always told her to never trust strangers. But these men didn’t wear masks like the men in Battery City. They were smiling and dirty and scarred, and she knew their car wasn’t BLI issued.

“It’s alright, we won’t hurt you,” the red-head comforted, his warm smile never leaving his face.

So she grabbed his hand, and let him pull her up. She crawled onto his back, and he and the other man walked back towards the car. She slid silently into the backseat, keeping her eyes glued to the seat in front of her. The red-head bounced into the driver’s seat, bringing the car back to life.

“You’ll like the diner,” he shouted, his voiced drowned out by the engine, “And it’s safe from those dracs.”

She nodded silently, now looking out the small back window. The red-head frowned and kept talking.

“My name’s Party Poison. This is Kobra Kid. You’ll meet the other guys once we get back.”

The rest of the ride was silent, and she was so exhausted from running all day. She nuzzled
up against the door, closing her eyes and drifting off to the sound of a motor.

When she awoke, she could feel arms pulling her from the backseat. At first she panicked and struggled in its grip, but soon remembered these men had saved her, and relaxed against the person’s chest. She blinked sleepily in the light of the diner, and the arms dropped her off in one of the vinyl booths. When she looked up, there were two new faces.

They were somewhat concealed in the candlelight, but could make out that one was quite taller than the other, and had a tangle of brown hair.

“This is Jet Star,” Kobra’s voice rang out through the darkness, “and Fun Ghoul.”

The shorter one had tattoos running up and down his arms, all vibrantly colored and skillfully drawn. The men were huddled together, talking in hushed voices so as not to wake the girl. She coughed and bustled around, trying to get comfortable and fall back asleep. Party Poison walked towards her, standing over the booth and looking down at her with bright eyes.

“What’s your name?”

She blinked. She knew never ever to give someone your name outside Battery City. Knowing someone’s name could result in fatal consequences. So she just shook her head, pulling her knees into her chest.

“How about… Motorbaby?”

She looked up.

“That’s okay,” she mumbled, feeling a smile creep onto her face.

Party Posion smirked, “Then it’s settled. Welcome to the Killjoys, Motorbaby.”



The next day they left her alone. Party gave her very stern instructions on what to do if someone broke in. He also told her all the safe places to run and hide, as well as where to find other Runners. Then he ruffled her hair and walked out the front door, leaving the diner empty and dark. She wriggled around in the booth after a while, and soon wandered over to the motel adjacent to the diner. They had given her a room the night before, one filled with bookshelves and old mannequins. She climbed onto her bed, beginning to doodle on one of the many pieces of paper she found stacked around the room. But even after that, they still hadn’t returned and she was getting bored and restless. She was walking back to the diner when the car screeched into place in front of her. A blue pick-up was racing towards the diner as well, sending up plumes of sand as it swerved past rocks and bushes. But it didn’t frighten her. She could only stare at the car. The first thing she noticed was the huge smear of red along one side. When she looked up she saw the other three dragging Party through the door, before hoisting him up onto the metal counter. She crept in behind them, watching as they tore open his shirt and began to press towels against his stomach to control the bleeding. He coughed and groaned beneath them, eyes fluttering and rolling around the room. His gaze settled on Motorbaby, and he gave a pained smile.

“It’s okay,” he croaked, biting back a moan.

His head snapped up as Ghoul pressed down on the wound, trying to keep pressure on it.

“We should move him,” Kobra murmured, “She doesn’t need to watch this.”

Jet nodded, but Ghoul just kept pressing his hands to Party’s stomach, face contorted with concentration. At once, the door was thrown open, and a young woman barged through, keeping two large leather bags tight in her fists.

“Knock knock,” she grinned, walking coolly towards the injured man.

“Blitz, we really don’t have time for your theatrics,” Kobra huffed, glaring at her through his sunglasses.

“Whatever, just get him somewhere that’s at least sanitary,” she snarled, peering at them
with a smirk.

At once, Kobra dashed into the back through a stainless steel door. When he returned, he
held a wad of ratted, blood-stained blankets, and began to hand clumps of it to Ghoul.

Soon, they hauled Party up towards the motel, using the dingy sheets as a stretcher. She followed behind, keeping her head low and trying not to draw attention to herself.

Unfortunately for her, Blitz had been watching the girl since she barreled through the door.

She grinned wide, the tops of her cheeks disappearing behind a set of enormous white sunglasses.

“Lady Blitzkrieg. You must be Motorbaby. Jet mentioned something about you in the transmission last night, but I didn’t realize you were y’know, a kid.”

She only shook her head, not quite understanding what Blitz had meant. In return she shrugged and smiled wider, barking out orders as they shuffled into the make-shift emergency room. They dumped Party rather ungraciously on the bed, the three of them wincing as he collided into the mattress.

“Fuckers,” he growled, sending one of his fists flying into Jet’s thigh.

“Can we just knock him out now?” Jet mumbled, rubbing his leg.

Blitz just waved her hand and began to dig through one of her bags, the tinkle of glass and metal ringing from within. As she started to set out her instruments and vials, Motorbaby felt a tug on her shoulder, and looked up to see Kobra motioning her towards him. Together, they walked outside and sat down in the sand. At once, she began to cry. She was hungry and tired, she had no idea if any of her family even existed, and now, just when she seemed to have escaped, the men who saved her return soaked in blood. Kobra frowned, and pulled her into his lap.

“It’s not that bad, really.” He mused, “He’s dealt with worse and lived.”

She could only shake her head in frustration. She wanted her mom. She hadn’t seen her in months, and now she was truly alone in the world. But even as she cuddled up to this random stranger, a man she hadn’t even known 24 hours, she felt comforted by the fact that someone was just as scared and confused as she was. Through her tears, she could make out Jet being pushed from the motel room, and lumbering to them with an offended look on his face. Kobra turned to look at him, but kept Motorbaby in his grasp. Jet clomped over, plopping down into the dirt and staring ahead at the sinking sun.

“I know Ghoul said this wouldn’t be a thing, but it’s becoming a thing!” he complained exasperatedly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Kobra scrunched his mouth and pulled her closer, “What do you mean?”

Jet sighed heavily, and began to tinker with the zippers on his jacket, “Blitz kicked me out, but let Ghoul stay.”

Kobra only laughed, “You sound like a pissed off third grader.”

Jet frowned and swung his arm out to strike him, but only brushed over his shoulder to avoid hitting Motorbaby, “I do not, and besides, that’s not the point. The point is this Party-Ghoul thing can’t get in the way of our mission.”

Kobra shrugged, and she snuggled in closer, it was nice to hear a real conversation, even if she didn’t have a clue as to what they were talking about. “They know that. And I would hardly call Ghoul helping Blitz ‘getting in the way.’”

“Yeah, it’s just, he asked for Ghoul to stay. He only wanted Ghoul.” Jet explained, now looking back at the sunset.

Kobra wrinkled his brow, and stared ahead at some unfixed point. She squirmed in his lap a bit, feeling suddenly eager to run and fight, and tugged on the collar of his jacket before she spoke, “How did you guys meet?”

The two men shared a look, before Jet started to explain, “You remember the Purges?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, well,” Jet continued, “In 2013, after the War, something called the Purges happened. See, anybody that seemed unfit to society was taken into Battery City under a fake lottery. When they showed up to claim their prizes, a firing squad met them at the door. One by one, every person that ‘slowed progress down’ was killed.”

She blinked softly, “What does that have to do with you guys?”

Jet rubbed the back of his neck, tugging at the knot in his bandanna, “It’s a long story, kid.”

She kicked at his shin, maneuvering away as he cursed and flailed around, “Tell it to me, then.” She ordered.

Jet flicked down his sunglasses, still scowling at the girl but leaning back on his elbows to get comfortable, “Fine, but don’t tell ‘em I told you. Party would have my balls.”

She shrugged and settled down into the sand, flopping down on her stomach and propping her head up with her palms. Kobra took one more apprehensive look at the motel, studying the silhouettes that danced in the window.

“Alright,” Jet began, “Party’s a little better at telling the story, but you’ll get the gist of it.”

She nodded, blinking up at the darkness spreading over them, “What happened?”