Sunshine’s ankle healed up well in only a day or two. The delay was helpful though, we needed to plan, and Mech wanted to tweak the van again.
Base #6 in Sector 5 was in the middle of a very populated city. The only entrance accessible to the public was in the center of the city, and we all decided that the public entrance would be the easiest to get in to. We needed disguises; black and white clothes and places to hide our ray guns in case of emergency. There would most likely be WANTED posters of us hung up everywhere, so we needed to be unrecognizable.
I had a white button-down and black jeans. I had found makeup in Show Pony’s room, (don’t ask), so I dabbled with it until I looked like a businesswoman. Sunshine had a black t-shirt and white jeans, and she dug out some glasses to replace her battered ones. She also messed with the makeup to cover up injuries that could be suspicious. Ex and Static both wore their stud-less leather jackets and black jeans with sunglasses. Mech wore an eye patch and a fedora to cover her eye, along with black shorts and boots to cover her leg. We were perfect, and to add to our disguises we had the fake ID cards that we had made. They identified us all as guards, (except Mech; she was a chef for easy kitchen access), with clearance high enough to get into most places. We were perfect, and very plain. The lack of color was aggravating, since the whole point of being a Killjoy was to spread color and imagination.
When Mech finally finished on the van, we piled up and set off for Sector 5.
Dr. Death had told us that Sector 5 was a very populated city, but he really meant a populated city. We walked in, trying our best to look inconspicuous, and immediately stumbled upon a slew of WANTED posters, all with our faces plastered on them.
“Wow,” Static said, “I'm worth a lot of money!”503Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFFXtqzWY0H
“Shove off,” Ex said, “We’re trying not to draw attention to ourselves.”
Static rolled his eyes but followed us towards the base. There was a line of people waiting to get in, it was like a tour or something along those lines.
“Excuse me,” a voice said behind us, “Can I see your ID cards please?”
I had forgotten that citizens had ID cards as well. I turned around slowly and faced the speaker.
He was honestly the most adorable guy I had seen since the world ended. He was short, maybe 5’5”, with dark, floppy hair and he was definitely Asian. I looked around at my group; Static was wearing his usual poker face, but the other three girls had awed looks on their faces, like they recognized the boy. I even thought I heard Sunshine mutter “ED?” under her breath.
“ID please?” he asked a tad bit more impatiently
“Umm…” I said, “Oh yes sir we have our IDs”
I kicked Sunshine and she shook her head, clearing whatever thoughts had invaded it.
“Here you go sir,” I held out the ID card, “We have ours”
The others put forward their cards.
“Thank you,” he said, “Have a wonderful day and don’t forget to be happy!”
He walked off.
“Was that who I think it was?” Ex asked
“I think so,” Mech said. Her non-mechanical eye was tearful, but she blinked a few times and cleared her throat.
“Alright,” she said, “Static, lead us to Party.”
Static nodded and walked forward. He was silent, as usual, with no indication that the events had fazed him at all. We snuck in to a side door, flashed our badges a couple times, and ended up at an empty wall. Static slapped his hand on it and a door slid open.
“Clever,” Ex said, “Let’s go-OH!”
We whipped around, a drac had snuck up on us, it’s hand gripped tightly on Ex’s arm.
“Let her go!” Mech yelled, “Please?”
The drac turned and looked at Mech, then it faltered.
“Mnmnnph,” it said, though it’s voice was muffled through the rubber mask.
“Say that again?” Static said dryly,
The drac pulled off its mask, “Don’t I know you?”
To me, he looked vaguely familiar. He was very tall, with dark, cropped hair. He had blue eyes with really dark eyelashes, and he looked too nice to be a drac.
We were silent for a moment as he looked at us eagerly, waiting for an answer.
“Wait,” Mech pushed her way forward, “Grant?”
“Grant,” the boy said, “Is that my name?”
“I mean, do you remember me?”
“I think so,” he said uncertainly, “What’s your name?”
“Louise,” Mech replied, “We went to Nicaragua together for three years, in a row. Emmy came too.”
She gestured to Sunshine, who nodded.”
The boy thought for a moment, then seemed to remember what Mech was talking about. Then he let go of Ex, stepped forward, and enveloped Mech in a huge hug.
“Louise,” he said slowly, “Oh Louise I'm so glad you made it out alive.”
“Well, mostly alive, but you're close.”
Grant studied her metal eye, and smiled, “You look more like you,” he said, “’Sweet’ never suited you anyway.”
He reached forward and hugged Sunshine, then remembered Ex and hugged her too. She didn’t seem to like that at all, obvious by the look of disgust on her face.
“What are you doing down here?” Grant asked, “It’s not open to civilians.”
“We’re not exactly civilians,” Ex said slowly, “In fact, those WANTED posters you see everywhere, those are for us.”
Grant looked slightly surprised, then realized what Ex was saying.
“You guys are Killjoys.”
We nodded.
“Oh.”
“We’re looking for Party Poison,” I said tentatively, “Can you help us?”
Silence.
“On one condition.”
“What?”
“You take me with you.”
More Silence.
“Okay,” Sunshine decided, “But you need a Killjoy name, to disguise your identity.”
“Since I don’t actually remember my real name, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Grant said, “But okay.”
We all thought for a moment, than Static spoke up.
“Transmission Speaker.”
“What?”503Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9UERVL0E5I
“Transmission Speaker; he could be useful for spying, to transfer messages from Korse.”
“Cool,” Grant said, “I like it.”
“Great,” I said, “Lead the way then.”
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So we all trooped through the secret door, Static and Grant in the lead. They led us to an empty corridor, where a closed door stood at the end of the hall. Grant, who we all decided would be called Trans, (after the Trans-Am), passed his badge against the scanner, and the door slid open.
He was almost unrecognizable, but of course I knew it was him. The bright red/orange hair that hung over his face, the lack of tattoos due to his fear of needles, and the hazel eyes that met mine when I stepped through the door.
“Are you here to kill me?” he whispered
“We’re here to rescue you,” I said, “Party Poison.”
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