You'll Never Take Me Alive
And you can sleep in a coffin pt.II
Jennifer awakens the next day with the wind blowing her dark mousey blonde hair over her eyes. The sun is shining brightly high in the light blue sky. She slowly opens her eyes and see nothing but blue sky and yellow desert.
From the sound of the gentle hum she knows she’s still in her car which is being driven at a steady pace down a highway. She looks across to see Party Poison, his roughly cut pink hair been thrown about in the wind above his head.
She brushes her hair from her eyes and quickly ties it all back.
PARTY POISON: Hey sleepy head.
JENNIFER: Groaning. Morning-
PARTY POISON: Try afternoon.
She semi-lifts her head and looks at the clock on the dash – 12.47 – and lets her head fall back with a ‘huff’.
JENNIFER: Looking out the passenger window. Where are we?
PARTY POISON: The middle of nowhere-
JENNIFER: Is that your name for it, or are we literally in the middle of nowhere?
PARTY POISON: Laughing. No we’re literally in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing about besides desert for miles.
They sit in silence for a while.
PARTY POISON: I’m starving.
Jennifer hums.
PARTY POISON: Are you?
JENNIFER: No, not really.
PARTY POISON: Oh…
JENNIFER: You can always stop if you know somewhere.
PARTY POISON: Yeah – somewhere should be coming up soon.
JENNIFER: So do you do know where we are?
PARTY POISON: Tuts, I always know where I am.
JENNIFER: Don’t call me ‘tuts’.
PARTY POISON: I’ve always called you Tuts.
JENNIFER: I don’t remember.
PARTY POISON: Really?
Jennifer continues to stare out the passenger window.
PARTY POISON: What do you remember?
Jennifer ignores him.
PARTY POISON: Blue?
She snaps her head in his direction, confused.
PARTY POISON: What?...Bonnie Blue?...It was your killjoy tag.
She goes back to looking out the window.
PARTY POISON: You got that tag because you were always so happy. People used to think you were always on blues-
JENNIFER: Blues don’t make you happy – speaking of which…
PARTY POISON: I’ve already taken them…and I know; they make you feel – numb.
There’s an uneasy silence in the car for a long time.
PARTY POISON: Nearly here.
Jennifer sits up in her chair to see the shimmer of a heat wave coming from the distant demolished buildings. The closer they got the bigger and clearer the place becomes. They drive into the abandoned town; fallen buildings block the roads, cars left to rust, everything covered in an eerier layer of dust and sand.
JENNIFER: Where are we?
PARTY POISON: This place was called Las Vegas. It was wiped when gambling was made illegal by Blind.
JENNIFER: Wiped?
PARTY POISON: Bombed. This was before we were born, during the changeover, when the Industry was gaining power. Don’t you remember the stories?
Jennifer shakes her head and looks out the window away from him. Party Poison brings the car to a steady stop in the middle of the road.
PARTY POISON: Getting out the car. Stay here.
JENNIFER: Calling after him. Where are you going?
PARTY POISON: Calling back, over his shoulder. To get lunch!
She sighs and gets out the car. She walks a little down the road and picks up a colourful plastic disk small enough to be a coin. She rubs her thumb over it, the sand coming off in her hand. Faded now, the disk was once bright with green and red stripes with a golden $50 written in the middle.
She goes back to the car and starts to sit on the hood but it’s too hot so she just props herself against it. After what seems an age Party Poison comes back in to her sight. He’s chewing on something and has a tin in each hand. He goes to hand one of the tins to Jennifer.
JENNIFER: What is it?
PARTY POISON: I don’t know – some tinned shit.
JENNIFER: Is it cold?
PARTY POISON: No it’s hotter than the sun! Of course it’s fucking cold.
JENNIFER: I’m okay, thanks.
PARTY POISON: You’re so snobby!
JENNIFER: I am not!
PARTY POISON: You are! You’ve changed.
JENNIFER: I haven’t-
PARTY POISON: You’ve become one of them-
JENNIFER: I have a lot to thank them for-
PARTY POISON: No, you don’t-
JENNIFER: They saved me-
PARTY POISON: You should have come home.
JENNIFER: I was 13-
PARTY POISON: You should have fought-
JENNIFER: I was 13-!
PARTY POISON: You should have come looking for us!
JENNIFER: I was 13, Gerard!
They’re silent for a moment.
PARTY POISON: I looked for you – we looked for everyone, but I looked for you.
JENNIFER: Checking her watch. You need to pop a Blue.
PARTY POISON: Again?!
She narrows her eyes at him.
PARTY POISON: Okay, okay.
He goes to the passenger’s side and gets the little bottle from the glove box. He takes the pill with food and swallows hard. He opens his mouth wide; showing Jennifer the tablet has gone but still has left over food in there. She wrinkles her nose and looks away in disgust.
PARTY POISON: That was once funny.
JENNIFER: Dryly. Really?
PARTY POISON: Yes!
He sits on the hood of the car for a few moments eating the contents of the tins with his fingers.
PARTY POISON: They make your head fuzzy, don’t they?
JENNIFER: The pills? He nods. Yeah.
It’s obvious she doesn’t want a conversation with him at all.
PARTY POISON: When did you stop taking the?
JENNIFER: Erm…I was fully off them when I was around 20. It took a few years. I relapsed a few times, when things got too real.
PARTY POISON: What made you decide to stop taking-?
JENNIFER: I don’t want to talk about it.
PARTY POISON: Oh come on, Bonnie-
JENNIFER: My name is Jennifer.
PARTY POISON: The only person who ever called you Jennifer was your mother when you’d pissed her off!
JENNIFER: Well, I’m glad you can remember my “mother”!
PARTY POISON: With a mouthful of food. Can’t you?
JENNIFER: The pills cloud your memory.
PARTY POISON: What do you remember?
JENNIFER: I’ve already told you, I don’t want to talk about it. Now, can you just drop it?
PARTY POISON: Then why save me? Why didn’t you just leave me there?
JENNIFER: I don’t know.
PARTY POISON: You don’t know-?
JENNIFER: It seemed like the right thing to do…at the time.
PARTY POISON: Are you regretting helping me?
JENNIFER: Only when you ask questions.
PARTY POISON: Do you admit what they’re doing is wrong? As saving me was the right thing to do?
JENNIFER: Some of the things they do are wrong-
PARTY POISON: Some!?
JENNIFER: You’ve got to admit since they’ve been in power, sociality hasn’t fallen into anarchy.
PARTY POISON: Are you for real? They control people!
JENNIFER: It’s for the greater good-
PARTY POISON: Greater good?! Are you hearing yourself? What have they done to you!
JENNIFER: They gave me a chance at life!
PARTY POISON: Your parents did that! The Killjoys did that!
JENNIFER: My parents abandoned me!
PARTY POISON: Is that what you think?
JENNIFER: That’s what I know. I found my file when I started working for The Industry, I didn’t even know I was one of you, it told me everything about who I was and where I came from. How my parents just gave me up because they didn’t want me-!
PARTY POISON: Didn’t want you?! Jen, they loved you. They didn’t abandon you. They were tortured. They were murdered.
JENNIFER: You don’t know that.
PARTY POISON: I do. We had insiders. They were captured – your parents and a dozen others. They knew your dad was a commander; they tortured him to gather secret information about where all our safe houses were; our transportation links, and our plans to take them down. When he didn’t crack they moved on to your mother. I don’t know what bits of this are true, but they say that The Industry used you against her. They told her they would use you as an example and she told them everything. She gave up years of planning to save you…but it looks to me as if they lied when they said they wouldn’t – because here you are…a perfect example.
Jennifer is looking off into the distance, her back facing Party Poison. His eyes are glued to the back of her head, waiting for a reaction.
JENNIFER: Opening the car door. We best get going.
PARTY POISON: Seriously?! After everything I’ve just told you?!
JENNIFER: I can always leave you here.
PARTY POISON: Un-fucking-believable.
They both get in the car, Jennifer in the driver’s seat.
JENNIFER: Which way?
PARTY POISON: Straight on until we get to the next pile of rubble.
She starts the car and speeds off, leaving a dust cloud high behind her.
PARTY POISON: So…Jennifer, what do you do for a living?
JENNIFER: I work for The Industry.
PARTY POISON: I know that. Doing what?
JENNIFER: I’m a patroller.
PARTY POISON: Nice-
JENNIFER: Not really. I arrest people for walking the wrong way down the street.
PARTY POISON: What?
JENNIFER: Section 197.3 ‘pedestrians must walk on the right at all times’ – it promotes order.
PARTY POISON: It’s fucking walking!
JENNIFER: I don’t make the rules-
PARTY POISON: No, you just enforce them.
She doesn’t reply.
PARTY POISON: How long are people locked up for when they dare to walk the wrong way?
JENNIFER: Three days in confinement or 1 day on ‘reds’. Most take the confinement.
PARTY POISON: Three days?! For walking the wrong way down a street? I’d rather have a downer!
JENNIFER: For people who have spent their entire lives on uppers, a red is a serious punishment. They crave blues, they need it to function. It’s not a habit for them, it’s a necessity. They need blues to stay alive.
PARTY POISON: That’s bullshit!
JENNIFER: I’m serious. Have you ever thought what will happen if the Killjoys were in power?
PARTY POISON: Yes! Everyone would be free-
JENNIFER: No! You’d have millions of people who have no idea what emotions are, no understanding of them or how to control them.
PARTY POISON: They would learn-
JENNIFER: They wouldn’t want to. It’s all they know, they don’t understand anything else. It’s like if I took away – oh I don’t know – oxygen!
PARTY POISON: Oxygen?
JENNIFER: You’d die!
PARTY POISON: That’s a shitty example – I need that to breathe. They don’t need blues.
JENNIFER: They do! You haven’t seen anyone who’s missed a dosage, or someone who’s been on reds. I have. It’s horrific. They become suicidal, uncountable, happy, depressed, crazed, angry, hyperactive, all in the space of 24 hours. It can take months to get over just one dose of Red.
PARTY POISON: I’ve never heard so much shit in all my life.
JENNIFER: Think what you like.
PARTY POISON: Oh you’ve turned into a snappy bitch.
JENNIFER: I have not!
PARTY POISON: Think what you like.
She narrows her eyes at him, but goes back to focusing on the road.
JENNIFER: Where are we going?
PARTY POISON: Getta way mile-
JENNIFER: I’ve already told you, it’s been blown up. There’s nothing left.
PARTY POISON: Well, Jennifer, that’s the last place I saw people. If I go there I might be able to figure out where my Killjoys are.
JENNIFER: Your Killjoys?
PARTY POISON: I’m a lieutenant-general.
JENNIFER: Of course you are.
PARTY POISON: Just drive.
~~~~~~
The stars have been out for a few hours when Jennifer starts to see something on the horizon. There’s a haze of yellow light, covered by a low hanging smoke. She starts to slow down.
JENNIFER: Gerard, there’s something ahead.
Party Poison doesn’t even open his eyes, his hear still back on the rest.
PARTY POISON: It’s Getta-way.
JENNIFER: How do you know?
PARTY POISON: Lifting his head. The smell…
JENNIFER: It doesn’t smell of anything-
PARTY POISON: Oh it does…freedom.
From the sound of the gentle hum she knows she’s still in her car which is being driven at a steady pace down a highway. She looks across to see Party Poison, his roughly cut pink hair been thrown about in the wind above his head.
She brushes her hair from her eyes and quickly ties it all back.
PARTY POISON: Hey sleepy head.
JENNIFER: Groaning. Morning-
PARTY POISON: Try afternoon.
She semi-lifts her head and looks at the clock on the dash – 12.47 – and lets her head fall back with a ‘huff’.
JENNIFER: Looking out the passenger window. Where are we?
PARTY POISON: The middle of nowhere-
JENNIFER: Is that your name for it, or are we literally in the middle of nowhere?
PARTY POISON: Laughing. No we’re literally in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing about besides desert for miles.
They sit in silence for a while.
PARTY POISON: I’m starving.
Jennifer hums.
PARTY POISON: Are you?
JENNIFER: No, not really.
PARTY POISON: Oh…
JENNIFER: You can always stop if you know somewhere.
PARTY POISON: Yeah – somewhere should be coming up soon.
JENNIFER: So do you do know where we are?
PARTY POISON: Tuts, I always know where I am.
JENNIFER: Don’t call me ‘tuts’.
PARTY POISON: I’ve always called you Tuts.
JENNIFER: I don’t remember.
PARTY POISON: Really?
Jennifer continues to stare out the passenger window.
PARTY POISON: What do you remember?
Jennifer ignores him.
PARTY POISON: Blue?
She snaps her head in his direction, confused.
PARTY POISON: What?...Bonnie Blue?...It was your killjoy tag.
She goes back to looking out the window.
PARTY POISON: You got that tag because you were always so happy. People used to think you were always on blues-
JENNIFER: Blues don’t make you happy – speaking of which…
PARTY POISON: I’ve already taken them…and I know; they make you feel – numb.
There’s an uneasy silence in the car for a long time.
PARTY POISON: Nearly here.
Jennifer sits up in her chair to see the shimmer of a heat wave coming from the distant demolished buildings. The closer they got the bigger and clearer the place becomes. They drive into the abandoned town; fallen buildings block the roads, cars left to rust, everything covered in an eerier layer of dust and sand.
JENNIFER: Where are we?
PARTY POISON: This place was called Las Vegas. It was wiped when gambling was made illegal by Blind.
JENNIFER: Wiped?
PARTY POISON: Bombed. This was before we were born, during the changeover, when the Industry was gaining power. Don’t you remember the stories?
Jennifer shakes her head and looks out the window away from him. Party Poison brings the car to a steady stop in the middle of the road.
PARTY POISON: Getting out the car. Stay here.
JENNIFER: Calling after him. Where are you going?
PARTY POISON: Calling back, over his shoulder. To get lunch!
She sighs and gets out the car. She walks a little down the road and picks up a colourful plastic disk small enough to be a coin. She rubs her thumb over it, the sand coming off in her hand. Faded now, the disk was once bright with green and red stripes with a golden $50 written in the middle.
She goes back to the car and starts to sit on the hood but it’s too hot so she just props herself against it. After what seems an age Party Poison comes back in to her sight. He’s chewing on something and has a tin in each hand. He goes to hand one of the tins to Jennifer.
JENNIFER: What is it?
PARTY POISON: I don’t know – some tinned shit.
JENNIFER: Is it cold?
PARTY POISON: No it’s hotter than the sun! Of course it’s fucking cold.
JENNIFER: I’m okay, thanks.
PARTY POISON: You’re so snobby!
JENNIFER: I am not!
PARTY POISON: You are! You’ve changed.
JENNIFER: I haven’t-
PARTY POISON: You’ve become one of them-
JENNIFER: I have a lot to thank them for-
PARTY POISON: No, you don’t-
JENNIFER: They saved me-
PARTY POISON: You should have come home.
JENNIFER: I was 13-
PARTY POISON: You should have fought-
JENNIFER: I was 13-!
PARTY POISON: You should have come looking for us!
JENNIFER: I was 13, Gerard!
They’re silent for a moment.
PARTY POISON: I looked for you – we looked for everyone, but I looked for you.
JENNIFER: Checking her watch. You need to pop a Blue.
PARTY POISON: Again?!
She narrows her eyes at him.
PARTY POISON: Okay, okay.
He goes to the passenger’s side and gets the little bottle from the glove box. He takes the pill with food and swallows hard. He opens his mouth wide; showing Jennifer the tablet has gone but still has left over food in there. She wrinkles her nose and looks away in disgust.
PARTY POISON: That was once funny.
JENNIFER: Dryly. Really?
PARTY POISON: Yes!
He sits on the hood of the car for a few moments eating the contents of the tins with his fingers.
PARTY POISON: They make your head fuzzy, don’t they?
JENNIFER: The pills? He nods. Yeah.
It’s obvious she doesn’t want a conversation with him at all.
PARTY POISON: When did you stop taking the?
JENNIFER: Erm…I was fully off them when I was around 20. It took a few years. I relapsed a few times, when things got too real.
PARTY POISON: What made you decide to stop taking-?
JENNIFER: I don’t want to talk about it.
PARTY POISON: Oh come on, Bonnie-
JENNIFER: My name is Jennifer.
PARTY POISON: The only person who ever called you Jennifer was your mother when you’d pissed her off!
JENNIFER: Well, I’m glad you can remember my “mother”!
PARTY POISON: With a mouthful of food. Can’t you?
JENNIFER: The pills cloud your memory.
PARTY POISON: What do you remember?
JENNIFER: I’ve already told you, I don’t want to talk about it. Now, can you just drop it?
PARTY POISON: Then why save me? Why didn’t you just leave me there?
JENNIFER: I don’t know.
PARTY POISON: You don’t know-?
JENNIFER: It seemed like the right thing to do…at the time.
PARTY POISON: Are you regretting helping me?
JENNIFER: Only when you ask questions.
PARTY POISON: Do you admit what they’re doing is wrong? As saving me was the right thing to do?
JENNIFER: Some of the things they do are wrong-
PARTY POISON: Some!?
JENNIFER: You’ve got to admit since they’ve been in power, sociality hasn’t fallen into anarchy.
PARTY POISON: Are you for real? They control people!
JENNIFER: It’s for the greater good-
PARTY POISON: Greater good?! Are you hearing yourself? What have they done to you!
JENNIFER: They gave me a chance at life!
PARTY POISON: Your parents did that! The Killjoys did that!
JENNIFER: My parents abandoned me!
PARTY POISON: Is that what you think?
JENNIFER: That’s what I know. I found my file when I started working for The Industry, I didn’t even know I was one of you, it told me everything about who I was and where I came from. How my parents just gave me up because they didn’t want me-!
PARTY POISON: Didn’t want you?! Jen, they loved you. They didn’t abandon you. They were tortured. They were murdered.
JENNIFER: You don’t know that.
PARTY POISON: I do. We had insiders. They were captured – your parents and a dozen others. They knew your dad was a commander; they tortured him to gather secret information about where all our safe houses were; our transportation links, and our plans to take them down. When he didn’t crack they moved on to your mother. I don’t know what bits of this are true, but they say that The Industry used you against her. They told her they would use you as an example and she told them everything. She gave up years of planning to save you…but it looks to me as if they lied when they said they wouldn’t – because here you are…a perfect example.
Jennifer is looking off into the distance, her back facing Party Poison. His eyes are glued to the back of her head, waiting for a reaction.
JENNIFER: Opening the car door. We best get going.
PARTY POISON: Seriously?! After everything I’ve just told you?!
JENNIFER: I can always leave you here.
PARTY POISON: Un-fucking-believable.
They both get in the car, Jennifer in the driver’s seat.
JENNIFER: Which way?
PARTY POISON: Straight on until we get to the next pile of rubble.
She starts the car and speeds off, leaving a dust cloud high behind her.
PARTY POISON: So…Jennifer, what do you do for a living?
JENNIFER: I work for The Industry.
PARTY POISON: I know that. Doing what?
JENNIFER: I’m a patroller.
PARTY POISON: Nice-
JENNIFER: Not really. I arrest people for walking the wrong way down the street.
PARTY POISON: What?
JENNIFER: Section 197.3 ‘pedestrians must walk on the right at all times’ – it promotes order.
PARTY POISON: It’s fucking walking!
JENNIFER: I don’t make the rules-
PARTY POISON: No, you just enforce them.
She doesn’t reply.
PARTY POISON: How long are people locked up for when they dare to walk the wrong way?
JENNIFER: Three days in confinement or 1 day on ‘reds’. Most take the confinement.
PARTY POISON: Three days?! For walking the wrong way down a street? I’d rather have a downer!
JENNIFER: For people who have spent their entire lives on uppers, a red is a serious punishment. They crave blues, they need it to function. It’s not a habit for them, it’s a necessity. They need blues to stay alive.
PARTY POISON: That’s bullshit!
JENNIFER: I’m serious. Have you ever thought what will happen if the Killjoys were in power?
PARTY POISON: Yes! Everyone would be free-
JENNIFER: No! You’d have millions of people who have no idea what emotions are, no understanding of them or how to control them.
PARTY POISON: They would learn-
JENNIFER: They wouldn’t want to. It’s all they know, they don’t understand anything else. It’s like if I took away – oh I don’t know – oxygen!
PARTY POISON: Oxygen?
JENNIFER: You’d die!
PARTY POISON: That’s a shitty example – I need that to breathe. They don’t need blues.
JENNIFER: They do! You haven’t seen anyone who’s missed a dosage, or someone who’s been on reds. I have. It’s horrific. They become suicidal, uncountable, happy, depressed, crazed, angry, hyperactive, all in the space of 24 hours. It can take months to get over just one dose of Red.
PARTY POISON: I’ve never heard so much shit in all my life.
JENNIFER: Think what you like.
PARTY POISON: Oh you’ve turned into a snappy bitch.
JENNIFER: I have not!
PARTY POISON: Think what you like.
She narrows her eyes at him, but goes back to focusing on the road.
JENNIFER: Where are we going?
PARTY POISON: Getta way mile-
JENNIFER: I’ve already told you, it’s been blown up. There’s nothing left.
PARTY POISON: Well, Jennifer, that’s the last place I saw people. If I go there I might be able to figure out where my Killjoys are.
JENNIFER: Your Killjoys?
PARTY POISON: I’m a lieutenant-general.
JENNIFER: Of course you are.
PARTY POISON: Just drive.
~~~~~~
The stars have been out for a few hours when Jennifer starts to see something on the horizon. There’s a haze of yellow light, covered by a low hanging smoke. She starts to slow down.
JENNIFER: Gerard, there’s something ahead.
Party Poison doesn’t even open his eyes, his hear still back on the rest.
PARTY POISON: It’s Getta-way.
JENNIFER: How do you know?
PARTY POISON: Lifting his head. The smell…
JENNIFER: It doesn’t smell of anything-
PARTY POISON: Oh it does…freedom.
The layout for chapt. 4 is awful. Im sorry...every time I go to edit my laptop just crashes...I will try again, thank you for reading though (if you manage it)
9/14/15