Dancing in the Desert

Scarlett could see why hardly anyone had ever settled in the desert. It was brutal. The sun beating down on her already burned shoulders, she thought of any possible way she could cover the exposed skin. She could possibly tie her bandana around her neck like a cape. Then, she shook her head. It wasn't big enough. Besides, the bright cloth was the only thing keeping her light hair off her glazing neck. She'd better just deal with the burns. Next time, she would find shelter closer to a Killjoy den. She considered drinking out of the next cactus she saw, but decided against it. She had enough to last her until she got to the supply den.

Through the heat waves, Scarlett could barely make out The Trench. Finding your way around the desert was hard, especially when everything looked the same. Scarlett had decided long before leaving Battery City that her key to survival was to avoid getting lost. Thus, her mental map consisted of several different landmarks that she remained within relative distance to at all times. The Trench, a long, wide, crack in the desert floor caused by one of the earthquakes that destroyed the continent seven years ago, separated Killjoy territory from BL/I territory. To the west was the sea, as well as Battery City, once called Los Angeles; she avoided returning to the heart of BL/I. Unlike others, she had not exactly been exiled into the desert, instead choosing to leave before she was forced to. This, however, led to some confusion of her status were she to ever return. Scarlett was unsure if she would be treated as an outlaw or a missing person, but she had no real desire to find out. Traitors to BL/I were to be shot on sight if spotted returning to the city. Far too risky. Thus, Scarlett never breached the westernmost border of the desert, knowing that civilization would come along with vegetation.

To the southeast, was the Killjoy territory. She avoided them, too. Not that she had ever had any reason to fear them. In fact, she was, in theory, on their side, since she had openly defied BL/I, and she had no doubt that they would accept her into their ranks if she were ever to find one of them. However, she doubted they were pleased with her. Scarlett had been stealing from their small, underground food supply dens since mere months after she left Battery City. Her gait physically shuddered as she remembered her first few months in the desert, eating sun-roasted lizards and rattlesnakes, drinking out of puddles from the seasonal flooding that had just occurred, and the constant vomiting that had arrived as a result. Scarlett had vowed to never go near a rattlesnake again. Thus, the stealing became periodic, and though she doubted she had ever left any evidence of her identity, she was not prepared to answer questions about how she had survived this long in the desert.

Generally, Scarlett stayed in the northernmost outskirts of both territories. It was an area that was largely left alone by both the Killjoys and BL/I, though she would rarely see a van with Dracs rolling around on patrol. She had managed to find an old Killjoy den, abandoned for unknown reasons, to reside in. It was most likely a popular BL/I patrol spot at one point, giving visiting Killjoys more trouble than it was worth. In any case, Scarlett had stayed there ever since, making frequent trips to different Killjoy dens for food and water, sometimes stealing from an unmanned Drac van, hoping to live long enough to outlast BL/I. She could only return to the city if they fell from power. Until then, the was resigned to be a thief, navigating her way through her mental landmarks.

As she approached the familiar triangle of cacti, Scarlett finished off the rest of the fluid in her canteen. Squatting, she grasped the handle of the trap door in the center of the triangle, opening the den. Through the darkness below, Scarlett could almost make out the familiar organization of supplies. Slipping inside, she left the door open for light. Killjoys sometimes stored weapons away, and she didn't need the potential danger of having a flare go off while she was feeling around for canned food and crackers. Besides, no Killjoy had ever walked in on her before.

As she scanned her eyes over the cramped shelves, she tried to avoid breathing in the sandy dust that had accumulated in the den. Something about breathing it in reminded her of her days living in the midst of the natural disasters that had wreaked havoc on the continent. She shook her head, leaving the memories for another lonely night, and instead began to fill her backpack with cans and jugs of water, making sure to fill her canteen first so she wouldn't have to lug an entire carton on her waist. She had only just started to retrieve a second jug of water from the shelving when she heard a combination of nauseating sounds.

A radio, an engine, the screeching of tire wheels--and all growing louder. Someone was coming.

She didn't doubt it was the Killjoys, whether it be one or more of them. Dracs don't blast music out of their vans. Yet, the prospect of meeting the Killjoys was even more terrifying. Not only would she be caught stealing from them red-handed, but she had never even seen one before. What was she supposed to expect from them? The stories were wild inside Battery City, and she wasn't sure how much of it she could believe. They were told these things from BL/I, after all: that they lived like wild savages, destroying order and kidnapping small children. They certainly looked bizarre. The "wanted" signs she had seen gracing telephone poles in Battery City came in a flurry of unnaturally-colored hair and neon clothing. A statement, possibly, against the monochromatic uniform that citizens of Battery City wore--the same one she still wore herself, save the neon green bandana, a momento rescued from the remains of her old home by the sea. She shook the memories away once again. An emergency was at hand, and this was not the time to be sentimental.

Scarlett's first reaction was to take what she had collected and scram, but if the ammunition stored in the dens was any sign, a good Killjoy was a good shot. Even if a bullet grazed her, she wouldn't be able to fight infection without proper medical supplies, and those weren't stocked at the outposts. There was nowhere to hide in the den unless she could magically stuff herself into a cupboard, but even those didn't look roomy enough. She had hunting knife in her boot, but was it really wise to brandish it at a gun-wielding Killjoy? Possible more?

A resigned feeling settled in her chest. They would see the open trap door and she would be caught. At the very least, they would question her, but she didn't put execution or torture past them. She had once seen the monstrous aftermath of a Killjoy-Drac skirmish. They didn't seem to fear death, and she was wearing the clothes of a loyal BL/I citizen, after all.

Scarlett sighed, allowing herself to sit cross-legged on the floor. Pulling the hunting knife out of her boot, she placed it on top of her backpack and kicked both out of her reach with her leg. Better not give them any reason to get defensive. Placing her hands in her lap, she waited for them to find her.

When the music, engine, and tires finally stopped, all that was left were voices. Scarlett couldn't make out much. Two young men, speaking to each other in what they thought were whispers. Had she not possibly been in peril, Scarlett might have laughed. She wondered if all Killjoys were this loud. Listening to their theories, she gathered that they were assuming a Drac or another agent of BL/I had found one of their dens. It wasn't unlikely, one of them agreed, since it was made just on the border of the territories. She heard them decide to come in with their guns drawn. Their footsteps on top of the wooden beams that made up the ceiling caused ominous creaking noises that she wasn't fond of. What if the ceiling collapsed? What then?

It didn't. And in a matter of seconds, both a gun and a blond-haired head appeared upside down in the trap door. Scarlett watched the emotions come over his face: fear, anger, surprise, recognition, and then confusion. It was a wide spectrum in a matter of minutes, and she was almost impressed. After living in the emotionally flat Battery City, the large range of feelings was a welcome sight, if nothing else was. He stared at her for a few moments, taking in her stature, before calling, "Poison!" It took Scarlett a few moments to recall the Killjoy's strange habit of titling each other. In those few moments, a head of fire-engine red hair appeared next to the blond's. They looked quite funny hanging upside down. Scarlett almost smiled. "A citizen of Battery City," the blond explained, "A girl this time."

Even in the poor lighting, Scarlett could see the redhead roll his eyes. "I can see that, Kobra."

"You think she's a convict?"

"I don't know. Keep your gun on her and I'll search her for weapons. Call Jet while you're at it. Ask him if there are any BL/I agents in this area." The redhead entered the den, approaching the girl cautiously on light feet. She couldn't make out much else in the darkness. "Don't move." Not sure if it was a warning or a threat, Scarlett decided not to find out. She sat still as his eyes scanned over her empty hands. "Stand." She obeyed, and he walked around her quickly, looking for signs of unexpected weapons in her uniform. BL/I, obviously, allowed little opportunity for their citizens to have unauthorized items on their person, and the thin, tight material would easily show any hidden items. Kicking at her shoes, and still finding nothing, Poison turned to the abandoned backpack. He raised his eyebrows at the hunting knife, but said nothing else, and gave it a nudge with his foot. Hearing the clunk of the water jugs, he breathed out a frustrated sigh.

"Jet says there are no undercover BL/I agents being tracked in this zone. Looks like she's clean, but we could ask Dr. D to run a background check," Kobra quipped, relief flooding his voice. Turning towards the girl, he added,"We've been trying to find you for awhile, sneak."

"It is you that's been stealing our food all these years, isn't it?" Poison crossed his arms, glaring at the lanky girl in front of him. She was visibly intimidated by his authority, having recognized him from the vast majority of the wanted posters in BL/I territory. Scarlett gave a curt and honest nod in response. "You could have just asked."

Throat dry, she retaliated, "I'm not exactly trigger-happy. I figured I'd stay away."

Poison clicked his tongue in disapproval at the statement as Kobra descended the dusted ladder into the den. "You really shouldn't believe all the propaganda you've heard about us from BL/I. We aren't intentionally violent. Well," Poison sighed, scratching his head, "most of us aren't. Those in my squadron aren't." Kobra expressed his agreement with a humming noise. After a moment of silence, Poison suddenly asked, "What crime did you commit against BL/I?"

"I didn't commit a crime. I ran away."

Party's eyes narrowed as he turned to look at Kobra, who's mouth hung slightly open in shock. When his mouth closed, he asked, stunned, "Why would you do that?"

Biting her lip, Scarlett chose her words carefully. She had never spoken aloud about her hatred of the tyrannical government, and was unsure of how to phrase it in an honest and poetic way. Eventually, she settled on a simple, "All BL/I does is take away a person's individuality and passion. That's no way to live."

With a sharp breath of laughter, Poison's face broke into a mischievous smirk that slightly worried Scarlett. "I'm glad you feel that way. I think you'll be an asset to our team." Even Kobra looked shocked at his words, and for a few minutes, his words hung in the air, building tension. Finally processing his words and deciding she hadn't only heard them in her head, Scarlett broke the heavy silence.

"Excuse me?"

With raised eyebrows and a stern gaze, Poison crossed his arms. "You've been stealing the Killjoys' resources for almost four years now, if I'm not mistaken. You didn't think I was just going to let that go, did you?"

Angry now, Scarlett snapped, "You can't force me into service!"

"No," he agreed, "but I can call for the code encryption of every supply stock we have in the desert. You'd never steal from us again."

The blonde girl met his eyes, glaring daggers into them. She hoped he could feel her impending wrath as she snarled, "You wouldn't."

Kobra, seeming to jump on the wagon Poison was driving, contributed, "He would. Our food isn't easy to get and we don't handle thievery lightly. Consider yourself lucky that he's giving you a choice." At Kobra's words, Poison grinned at the glaring girl amiably, who was finally beginning to feel apprehensive.

Poison shrugged, as if he did this kind of thing to people on a daily basis. "Come with us or starve." The words were spoken with a 'no big deal' kind of tone that Scarlett wasn't fond of. He added, "Killjoys look out for each other and nobody else. If you join us, you'll be better off than you are out here by yourself." With this, Scarlett finally stopped to entertain the option. Indeed, picking a side would certainly turn BL/I against her, but she would be protected by the Killjoys, and they would train, feed, and care for her as one of their own. A few might even befriend her. His words were honest. If she joined their ranks, she would never have to steal again, and never again would she know hunger. Sensing her consideration, Poison added, "You'd be stupid not to accept the invitation."

Half-offended, Scarlett snapped, "I'd be stupid to not consider repercussions from BL/I. Whether I would be able to hide or not, BL/I would always be looking for me. And they are faster, stronger, and cleverer than any of you. Why make enemies with them?"

"They were already your enemies." Kobra's spoke softly, his previously lighthearted tone gone. Scarlett felt her heart sink, knowing he was right. Yet, her distrust of the Killjoys, possibly rampant due to BL/I's propaganda itself, remained. Should she go with them? She had no idea what they were like, or how they lived, or what duties would be asked of her if she accompanied them. Yet, she supposed, she could always leave--run back to her hideaway in the neutral zones--if she felt endangered. It would give her enough time to learn where the Killjoy's got their supply from, and she wouldn't have to worry about Poison's threat of encryption. Her mind made up, Scarlett tentatively nodded.

"I'll go with you."

Notes

Hello! Been thinking of writing a Killjoy story for awhile now, and I'm kind of liking how the first chapter's come out. What do you guys think?

Reminder to check out my other story, "Finding Color". The new chapter's up, and things are going to get interesting real soon. A new chapter should be up either sometime today, or in the afternoon tomorrow.

Votes and subscriptions are always nice, but I really love comments. It's so nice to be able to talk to y'all and hear what you think about what's going on and read suggestions about where you all think the story should be headed. It's really encouraging and it definitely inspires me to write!

--Sparrow Delanuit