The Collector

“He took the meds!” Ghoul shouted angrily.
“Well, yeah,” Jet was at a loss to understand. Even if Kobra had gone against Party’s express instructions the medical supplies were meant to be heading out to Dust Bowl anyway.
“You don’t understand!” he repeated in frustration as he continued to scan the horizon. “We need them for Party! He'll get worse without them!”
“What?” Jet’s eyes widened. “Does he know?” he asked hesitantly.
“No,” Ghoul replied in a frustrated tone as he turned back to face his friend. “He wouldn’t have gone if he’d known. We thought Party was going to be okay, but after Kobra had gone, Doc asked me to get some more meds for him from the trunk. Without them, he’s gonna get worse again. What he’s given him will get him on the way, but he needs the other tablets too.”

As he spoke, Ghoul’s pitch and volume were increasing and his final words almost garbled in his hurry to speak.

“Ghoul, it’s okay,” Jet replied in as calm a voice as he could muster. We’ll take Doc’s van and get after him.”
“He’s got such a head start, we’ll never catch him.”
“We don’t have to catch him! We can contact him on the radios, let him know to hold some of it back. We know where he’s going, we can meet him. It’ll be fine, Ghoul, it’ll all be fine.”

Nodding slowly as he took in the words, Ghoul sighed when another thought occurred to him. Almost instantly his nod turned to a shake.

“If we go after him now, what message are we sending? We’ll be saying we don’t trust him. It’s bad enough he thinks Party’s being overprotective.”
“He is,” Jet agreed, as the pair began to calm slightly.
“I know he is. Kobra’s more than capable; you know I’ve been arguing his case for months. So if we chase after him now…”

Fun Ghoul left the words hanging. He desperately wanted to take the van and retrieve the pills to ensure his love’s full recovery but knew that if he did, Kobra would be humiliated.

“How about we contact him, he won’t be out of range for a while. We just tell him that he needs to bring back whatever it is that Doc wants and we’ll see him when he gets back. How about that?”
“Yeah,” Ghoul inhaled a deep calming breath. “Everyone wins; Party gets better, Kobra’s had his first solo mission and Party’ll just have to accept it.”
“Right, let’s do that,” Jet placed his hands on the younger man’s shoulders to check that he was all right. In response, Ghoul smiled up.

“I have to go tell Doc that I haven’t got any water for him.”
“I did a treatment this morning,” Jet began, pointing over his shoulder, only to be interrupted.
“I said I’d get him a bottle,” Ghoul shrugged. “He did just save Party’s life.”

Jet nodded; good water was just so scarce lately. They had originally worked out how to treat the collected barrels of acid rain to use for washing, but recently they had needed to start drinking it too. It tasted foul, but there seemed no good solution; the acid in the rain would be sufficient to burn the intestinal linings should they drink it and some of the parasites that found their way in to the barrels could turn a man’s brain inside out. The sterilisation and alkalisation processes to make the water safe also made it almost unbearable to drink.

“I have one,” he replied.
“You do?” Ghoul raised a surprised eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Jet nodded. “I rationed out…” he tipped his head as he considered the timing, “my supply two before the last time we kept any. I wanted to keep one, like for emergencies or celebrating or something.”

The statement almost broke Ghoul’s heart as he heard it. It wasn’t so much that Jet had a bottle of water, a precious bottle of water, that he was happy, even eager, to give to Doctor Death Defying for saving their friend. No, it was the concept that their world was now so broken and torn that a single small bottle of water would be treasured as something to celebrate with. Oh, how the world had crumbled in the last few years.

“Ghoul?” Jet enquired tentatively as he noticed his eyes seem to glaze.
“Er… yeah, that’s great, Jet. Thanks, really.” he nodded. “Thank you,” he forced a smile. “Do you want to do that and I’ll contact Kobra.”
“Sure,” Jet tipped his head again. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Ghoul nodded, tapping his hand on his friend’s arm. “I better call before he goes out of range.”
“Okay,” Jet nodded. “I’ll let Doc know what’s going on too.”
“Thanks,” Ghoul nodded and raised his hand as he headed to the van. Their own personal radio in the diner would have worked fine, he was reasonably sure, but Death Defying’s radio had a much further range and even if Kobra had red-lined the car all the way, he should still be able to reach him. Selecting the right frequency, Ghoul pressed the trigger on the hand-held receiver.

“KK, acknowledge.”

Ghoul paused, releasing the trigger and listening intently but hearing only static as a reply.

“KK, are you out there, man.”

Static.

“Kobra! Answer the fucking call, man! It’s important!”
“What?” Came the reluctant reply.
“We need something,” Ghoul tried to be discreet.

It didn’t take a genius to know that radio signals could be listened in on. The less he said the better, either of them for that matter.

“What do you need?”
“Meds.”
“Is this for Party? He’s okay. He doesn’t…”
“Fuck, Kobra, we’re on vox you know!” Ghoul snapped, angrily, pushing his hand through his hair in frustration.
“If you can’t tell me what you want then… Oh, I get it,” Kobra still sounded angry. “You just want me to turn around, don’t you?”
“No!” Ghoul snapped, his anger with Kobra’s responses growing by the second. It was a wonder he hadn’t said where he was heading yet. “Ademen, one strip,” Ghoul finally conceded that he had to give some information out. “Can you confirm?”
“Ademen, one strip, I can do that.”
“Stay safe, man,” Ghoul responded with a sigh; he didn’t want his words to sound heated.

It was going to be tough enough for Kobra alone without him being further distracted by angry thoughts of what was going on or being said or thought back at their base.

“You too. Out.”

Ghoul sighed. It wasn’t much of a conversation, but at least it had sounded as though he had calmed a little. Perhaps it would be a blessing in disguise? When Kobra returned safe and sound from his mission and Party had recovered fully, he hoped he’d be able to see that his brother could look after himself? Or at the very least it might force them to have a much-needed conversation on filial trust. He could only hope. Shutting down the radio set and securing the van, Ghoul felt the first hint of the cool night air and he shivered unexpectedly. The difference between the daytime and night-time temperatures out in Zone 6 was staggering. It would be stifling, sweltering heat during the day but could drop to bitter cold before dawn. The necessity for layers and jackets and boots was pronounced, especially this far out from Battery City. He looked out to the desert once more, the dark night restricting his view to maybe one or two lights in the distance. Neither were likely to be Kobra, probably just an RV passing through the Zones. It seemed unlikely to be any BLI operatives, night raids were rare this far out as word would get to them almost as soon as they headed out on Route Guano. It simply wasn’t worth their time heading that far out, especially as the Killjoys knew the Zones far more intricately than any of the dracs. Maybe not Korse, Ghoul frowned. But looking out again, the lights were already dimming into the far distance. If they were doing anything, they were heading away. Wrapping his arms around himself as the night air nipped at his sleeves, Fun Ghoul blew out a heavy breath that he didn’t even realise was being held. Turning slowly, he trudged back toward the diner, sparing a last glance out toward the pitch black horizon.

“Stay safe, Kobra,” he frowned uneasily. “Remember you promised.”

*

Kobra Kid felt a little more relaxed since speaking to Fun Ghoul. Actually, if he were honest with himself, he felt guilty. He’d argued with his friend before taking off, just like the irresponsible kid he claimed he wasn’t. He should at least have been man enough to apologise to Ghoul when they spoke, but again, his temper had got the better of him. The worst part of it all was who he’d yelled at. He knew the many efforts Ghoul had made to help his brother change his mind about letting him run solo missions. Of course, he had been angry at Party for being stubborn, and even for being ill, as seemingly ridiculous as that sounded. He had been humiliated in front of Doctor Death Defying and that had been hard to take. Worse still, how had he repaid the doctor for saving his brother’s life?

“That’s right, Kobra,” he snapped at himself, talking as if he were someone else, berating him. “You yelled at him because he called you ‘kid’, well, he would wouldn’t he? If you’re going to call yourself Kobra Kid, some people are going to call you Kid! You’ve just made a complete fool of yourself!”

He sighed heavily; why was he talking to himself like that? Was it just too difficult to say: ‘I made a fool of myself’? Saying ‘I’ makes things far too real, he finally concluded. He hadn’t acted like a child because he was treated like one – it was the other way around. A self-perpetuating pattern. After tonight’s behaviour, did he really expect Party, or anyone for that matter, to treat him like the person he so wanted to prove himself to be?

“It’s going to change, I’m going to change,” he nodded to himself.

He momentarily considered heading back to the diner, but he was so close to Dust Bowl already that it really didn’t make any sense. He would finish the delivery and head back with the pills for Party.

“And,” he adjusted the frequency on the radio clipped to his belt, “I’m going to apologise to Ghoul.”

Raising the radio, he frowned as he saw that he was out of range for the diner radio. About to switch to Doctor Death Defying’s boosted radio frequency, Kobra was suddenly blinded by a bolt of white light that seemed to spring up in front of the car, completely enveloping him and the surrounding area. Throwing his arm up to protect his eyes, Kobra was forced to press hard on the brake. Without time to even scan the area for danger, a rumble emanated from beneath the car. It was like nothing he had ever heard or felt before. The Trans Am seemed almost to bounce briefly, and it felt as though he was bobbing in a small boat on the sea.

Immediately the engine cut and the car began to skid out of control but Kobra was in no condition to try to control it. The sound that he had felt beneath his feet had risen through the seat and now felt as though every cell in his body was shaking and at the same time riding some sort of giant wave. He had lost control of all limbs and could neither speak nor see. Even the deep rumble he had heard had become incomprehensible. Rising higher still, the wave reached his brain and Kobra felt a piercing pain as if the sound was trying to break out through the top of his skull.

By the time the Trans Am skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust, Kobra hung partially out of the door, unmoving.

As the dust began to settle, two figures holding small lights stepped out of the darkness and approached the car.

“Hmm,” one of the figures grunted in mild disappointment. “Not the right one, but it’s a good start.”

Notes