Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys

I awoke to the sounds of little running feet on the worn, old, wooden floor. This was normal for me. I knew immediately who it would be. Instantly, I felt a small body jump onto my bed and sit on me.
"POISON" a small, high pitched voice screamed. I opened my eyes slightly to see a mop of brown, extremely curly hair.
"Grace" I started "It's not really nice to jump on people while they sleep"
"SO! It's almost one and I'm excited!"
"For what?" I asked, sitting up in my bed and pushing Girl (or Grace/ Pipsqueak) off of my lap.
"TONIGHT'S THE MAD GEAR SHOW!"
The sheer happiness of this little girl made my heart warm. It was only a year ago that this now six year old come into my life. As a rebel fighting against Battery City and Better Living Industries, I had found Grace. She in was in Zone Two, which isn't too bad of an area seeing how it used to be part of East Los Angeles. She was covered in dirt, wearing a hospital gown. Nothing more heart breaking then a little girl, dirty, scared, and crying. I picked her up and brought her home, in Zone 3 at the time. At that moment I realized I had a heart.
She wasn't just any kid. She was in danger. For her entire life, Grace had been tested on, poked and prodded with needles and instruments. She was tortured, and yet, she knew a big terrible secret that would destroy BL/Ind. She wouldn’t tell me what it was. She didn't want to. She didn't even ask for my protection, I just wanted to be there for this little girl.
"HEY!" she exclaimed, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"What?"
"Mad Gear and the Missile Kid! I want to go"
"sorry Pipsqueak, you can't"
"But you promised" she pouted, crossing her arms over her puffy, Technicolor vest and sticking her bottom lip out. It's hard to say no to that face.
"Sorry, Kid, but those are the rules. You ain't allowed in Hyper-Thrust."
"But!"
"That's the rule of the club"
"No fair" she sighed, leaning her head down.
"Hey, why don't you go find Fun Ghoul? Didn't he promise to teach you how to build Battery Powered Exploding Sheep?"
"He said it's too dangerous"
"Well, what about Jet Star?"
"He's out to find food"
"Kobra Kid?"
"VEND A HACK LESSONS!" she exclaimed, getting up from my bed and running out of the room.
I shook my head, only to feel a sharp pain in my neck. I quickly placed my gloved covered hand and placed it on my neck. I knew something was very wrong. I shot up from my bed and went to my shattered mirror in the corner of my room. My face looked the same. Still the sharp angled jaw, jagged lips with a small scar on the Cupid’s bow (my ex was into makeup. That's how I know what it's fuckin' called. Got a problem with that?), Hazel eyes, a pixie nose as Ghoul liked to call it, and a mop of bright red hair atop my head with the sides shaved. I looked the same, still as pretty as ever, until I saw the left side of my neck. There, sticking out like a sore thumb was a red blotch (the size of a carbon) that blemished my skin.
“I have Radio Rash"
Radio Rash is just a name for Radiation Poisoning. The entire outer Zones were littered with radiation. If you stayed outside in the sun for too long, you were bound to get it. I must of been ignorant. Once you had Radio Rash, your days were fuckin numbered. Now, my fuckin' pretty face was second to the red rash on my neck. I would be lucky if I lived another month. Sure, in Battery City, Radio Rash could be cured easily, but I wasn't ready to be a drone for those assholes. Especially since I am one of the Top Five most wanted.
I grabbed my red and black scarf, that I usually used to cover my mouth from getting dust in it, and wrapped it around my neck, to cover the spot. I already had been wearing my light grey, dirty as fuck jeans, and my black shirt that said "Keep Smiling". I pulled on my boots and laced them quickly. Then, like the cherry on top of the fuckin' sundae, I pulled on my blue "Dead Pegasus" jacket that I had painted my logo, a giant red pill with an X underneath in a circle. I attached my holster to my thigh and grabbed my shiny baby. Party Poison.
I walked out into the dining area of the shitty diner we called home. Over at one of the intact booths sat Fun Ghoul, a short man dressed in black pants, and old baseball t-shirt, and a vest. His greasy black hair was tucked behind his ears as he dug into a can of Power Pup that he held in his tattooed hands.
"How can you eat that shit?" I asked, sitting across from him.
"I can eat it because it's what we have. Since our rations were all fucked to hell by a stupid strawberry headed asshole."
"Hey, those motorbabies needed it more than we do"
"Next time ask" He pleaded.
"Fine,"
"So," he started, putting his fork down. "We still down for Hyper Thrust tonight"
"Fuck yeah! Maybe I’ll meet a pretty little crash queen out there tonight"
"You're more likely to get laid by some fuck bot" I flipped him off after he said that. I leaned my head into my hand and sighed, absent mindedly adjusting my scarf.
"Dude, Is that Radio Rash?" Ghoul asked. I covered it with my had and nodded slightly.
"I found it just a little while ago"
"Dude, we need to get you to Battery City"
"No!" I exclaimed. "A little Heal-All and I'll be fine"
"No amount of Heal-All will get rid of Radio Rash."
"I don't fuckin' care. If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die doing what I promised I’d do. And that's protecting Girl."
"That's cool and all, but how are you gonna do that if you're lying in the desert dead from radiation poisoning?"
"I don't know"
He had a point, if I was living on borrowed time, I wouldn't be able to fully protect Grace. That's when inspiration hit me.
"Why don’t we just take down BL/Ind?"
"Now, I know you have Radio Rash, because you're talking nonsense.' Fun Ghoul retorted. I just flipped him.
"Hey guys!" Jet star said, walking into the diner. He was dressed as he usually did. T-shirt and jeans, with a black leather jacket with an American flag on the back, except there was our group logo, a black spider with a lightning bolt in the body. His hair was much like Grace's, but darker. And he had on his iconic aviator sunglasses.
"Sup!" I said, shooting a 'don't you dare fuckin tell him' look to Ghoul.
"How's the little turd?" Ghoul asked, referencing my good old trusty '79 Trans Am.
"Hey, that's my fuckin' car" I retorted.
"It's a piece of shit" Ghoul and Jet said in unison.
"POISON, POISON" I heard that little voice of Girl's scream, as she bobbed her way into the Diner. "Look what I hacked!" she handed me a pack of batteries, and a white ray gun.
"I see that" I replied, examining the gun.
"Can you teach me to use it?"
"Maybe when you're a bit older"
"Awl, come on!"
"Grace, you know what I said."
"I know." she replied, slouching her head down and sighing.
"Hey," I said, ruffling her hair "I promise you will learn. Just not right now"
"Okay"
"Hey, why don't you get your stuff so we can see Dr. D?"
"okay" Girl replied, walking away with her batteries in hand, and leaving the gun with me.
"Dude" Kobra Kid, my little brother, started. "She was so excited"
"I know, but I can't let her use a ray gun yet, Kid."
"Why?" Jet Star asked. "It could be helpful"
"Childhood is over the moment you know you are going to die."
"And..."
"I knew I was going to die the moment I fired my beamer. She's too young."
"Poison" Ghoul started. "She already has the big bad secret in her head. Korse wants her. If something were to happen to us, then she would know how to..."
"Dr. D and I agreed. And I listen to Dr. D"
The others silently agreed. Even though our names were listed as the most wanted in the Americas, Dr. D was the main facilitator of everything. Nothing happened without him knowing. As much as we wanted to, we really couldn’t do anything without his approval. All we could really do was act as we usually did, like idiots. But we only followed the one rule we’ve ever gotten. Protect Girl at all costs.
“Um, guys?” Girl said, popping her head into the main room of the diner.
“Yeah?” I asked, turning to Girl.
“I think we have visitors” she smiled, pointing out the window.
In the distance, we could see three white motorcycles. Riding those bikes, were men, dressed in crisp white suits and shitty old vampire masks that looked like they were bought before the Helium Wars. These are the lowest of low on the chain of command at Better Living Industries. Draculoids.
“Gracie” I started, standing up and pulling my ray gun from its holster.
“Yes, Poison?”
“Can you get me a can of watermelon juice, please?” I asked, smiling to her. The six year old smiled, and nodded before running off to the kitchen.
“Juice?” Kobra Kid asked. “You drink juice when you’re killing?”
“Yeah, I drink juice when I’m killing ‘cause it’s fucking delicious!”

Notes

I don't know who created the term "Radio Rash" but I did not. Credit to whoever did.