Taking Back Fun Day

Consciousness did not come easily, neither was it all that welcome but Red had no choice but to accept it’s arrival. Screwing her face up in a combination of displeasure and pain, she noted that even the smallest movement of her torso ached in ways she never believed possible. Slowly becoming aware of the nature of the pain, she realised that it mostly emanated from her abdomen and radiated out so it filled her chest and spread across her back. At the assumed source, she noted an odd combination of a stinging, almost burning sensation alongside the feeling of muscle stiffness. In short, she felt as though she’d gone ten rounds in a ring with a boxer without the ability to defend herself. Relaxing once more to get her breath back, Red finally noticed the unexpected truth that she was comfortable.

Slowly opening her eyes, she groaned, her voice taking on a hoarse, gravelly texture born of a dry mouth and exhaustion. Scouring her memory was difficult; there seemed not only to be gaps but also the unwillingness to expend the energy to fill them. Without moving and exacerbating the painful muscle spasms, she allowed her eyes to take in as much as possible. The room was small and included the bed she lay in, a small table and chair a sink and a closed off area that she presumed was either storage or perhaps a bathroom of sorts. She could see an opening in the wall that seemed to lead to another room, but it was dark and investigating further would have required moving - something she was currently reluctant to try. She frowned with concern, realising that this wasn’t one of the diner’s motel rooms. Where was she? Noting with some distress that there were no colours to be seen anywhere in the room, the possibility that she had been taken to BLI hit her hard enough to take her breath away. Scouring her memory, she recalled being at the diner and then... and then... Coffin Dancer!

“Where am I!” She yelled furiously; memories now returning rapidly as she recalled learning who Coffin worked for and finally the handheld taser - the cause of the searing pain in her tortured muscles.

Planting her hands firmly on the edges of the bed, she began to slowly force herself into a sitting position. Concentrating on her breathing to get her through the pain of the motion, she gasped with the effort as she finally sat upright, swinging her legs slowly from the bed until her feet touched the floor. Breathing hard, she fought against snatching at gulps of air and once again focused on a measured and regular breath.

“There are pain killers and some water on your nightstand,” came a hollow, echoing, metallic voice over an unseen speaker.

Red turned her head toward the small bedside table and noted two tablets inside a small, plastic medicine dosing cup and a glass standing next to a large bottle of water. She regarded them for a few moments, the tablets could have been anything, the water could have been poisoned, but she concluded that if they had wanted to either kill or drug her they could easily have done so while she was unconscious. Reaching for the water bottle, she was uncertain whether the bottle was unusually heavy, she was unusually weak or a combination of the two, but she found her hand shaking with the effort of pouring out a glass of water. Finally replacing the bottle onto the table, she picked up both the tablets and the glass. The action answered her earlier question as she noted the shake in her hand remained when holding only the glass. Perhaps it was a combination of weakness, a reaction to the taser and even dehydration? Whatever the cause, she opted to down the full glass of water with the pills in an attempt to speed up the recovery process. Returning the empty glass to the table, she had to admit that that one action had made her feel much better already.

“Where am I?” She repeated, shouting into the room with no idea where to focus her attention.
“You can see an opening to your left. If you’re able to walk, go through and you will recognise your surroundings.”
“If I can walk!” Red grumbled quietly to herself. “If I can’t, someone’s going to pay for it.”

Pushing herself to her feet, she immediately flopped back down onto the bed. With a grunt of what might have been dissatisfaction, determination or both she forced herself to her feet once more. Placing a steadying hand on the chair by the table, she waited until the swimming sensation in her head subsided. She couldn’t help but wonder if her symptoms were entirely as a result of the taser. Almost as she considered the question, she felt a dull ache at the back of her neck. Reaching tentatively she felt a tender area of skin that might have been a bruise. But it wasn’t a bruise; she knew exactly what it was. Instantly livid at the realisation that she had been fitted with a pain governor to control her, she found the energy and strength she needed to confront whoever was waiting through the opening. Walking slowly but with confidence into the adjacent room it became all too apparent what was meant by her recognising her surroundings as she stepped through into the viewing area of the cell that had been Kobra’s when held in Evelyn Hart’s Killjoys museum exhibit.

Waiting for her beyond the toughened Perspex stood both Coffin Dancer and Evelyn Hart herself, sporting what seemed to her to be a smug and extremely condescending gaze.

“What am I even doing here,” Red snapped immediately. “I can’t possibly be part of your exhibition. Or is this just for spite?”

Withdrawing a small remote from her purse, Evelyn raised an eyebrow as she cast her eye over Red’s pale and drawn face.

“Do I need to demonstrate this?” She asked in a cold and blunt tone that emerged as hard as diamond.
“No,” Red scowled in return. “I know what you’ve done; you can use that to trigger the pain governor you’ve put in my neck. The question is why?”
“I should have thought that was obvious,” Hart replied, apparently surprised by the response. “After last time, do you really think I’m taking any chances with you?”
“What happened to you, you brought on yourself! What you get for trying to keep the Killjoys as museum exhibits. Trying again, are you?” Red asked almost spitting the words in disgust. “You think you can capture them trying to rescue me? They’re not stupid, you know!”

Evelyn sighed heavily and turned to briefly glance at Coffin, shaking her head as she did.

“You were right, she does run her mouth. You’d think by know she’d have learned how to listen.”
“Listen to what?” Red snapped, simultaneously angry and humiliated.
“I am not trying to rebuild my exhibition. To begin with, I realise now that BLI lied about letting me establish it in the first place.”
“Huh!” Red scoffed, rolling her eyes scornfully. “Who’d have thought?”

Returning the remote to her purse, Hart shook her head and gave a heavy and tired sounding sigh.

“I’m not convinced, Bob,” she finally admitted.

Raising an eyebrow at the use of Coffin’s real name, Red almost laughed at the expression of irritation on the blond man’s face as he realised that his employer had given away personal information that he had, until now, carefully guarded from the Killjoys and others.

“She doesn’t know when to shut up,” he replied, obviously aggrieved. “She might be related to Jet but they’re nothing alike.”
“Leave Jet out of this, you bastard! I’ll get you back for hurting him!” Red launched into a mini tirade.
“When you’re ready to shut up and help Fun Ghoul, let me know,” Hart snapped, irritable at Red’s response she turned to leave.
“Oh, yeah!” Red scoffed bitterly. “You want to help Ghoul do you? The last time you ‘helped’ him you were trying to force him to sleep with you!”

Hart spun on her heels, furious at the woman’s response.

“Listen you silly fool!” Hart snapped, fuelled with emotion. “There is much more at stake here than your pride, the Killjoys or even my feelings toward Ghoul. I’m out for revenge and...”
“If you think I care about your petty obsessions, or your need to get even with me for...!”

Red sank to her knees, biting her lip and trying with all her strength to stifle the anguished cry she felt would burst from her lips if she tried to make any sound. The pain coursing up and down her spine lasted only a few seconds but was enough to expel the air from her lungs and leave her gasping and breathless. Leaning on the Perspex for support to prevent a further collapse to the floor, Red slowly regained control over her breathing and began to settle once more. As the pain subsided, her shoulders relaxed and Hart began to speak once more.

“Korse murdered my friend and companion and took Ghoul. It is upon him that I want revenge. I have no interest in you other than to ask you to help rescue Ghoul.”
“So you can lock him up in your bedroom again? No!”
“Stubborn and persistent,” Hart rolled her eyes. “I have no intention of doing that. Ghoul and I are not... compatible. I know that now, but I still care enough about him to not leave him in Korse’s murdering hands. Do you understand yet?”
“So, why the governor in my neck?” Red asked, still uncertain over Hart’s motives.
“Seriously?” Hart raised her eyebrows. “You really have to ask that?”

Red gave the question a few second’s thought and shrugged. There really was no way for the wealthy museum owner to guarantee her own safety from her without the reassurance of the governor, but that in itself led to more questions.

“Okay, I get it, it made me listen to you, but if we’re really on the same side you wouldn’t need it. So, again, why is it there?”
“Call it a precaution if you like?” Hart replied coolly. “I’ve used it once. If we reach an agreement, I won’t need to use it again.”
“So, you’ll take it out?” Red pressed.
“No,” Hart shook her head slowly. “I just won’t need to use it again.”

Red pursed her lips and gave the reply some thought.

“No, I’m not happy with that,” she stated, narrowing her eyes with disapproval.
“Well,” Hart began, “that’s where the governor comes in again. You don’t have to like it and I can make it so you like the alternative a lot less. Do you understand?”
“You’re going to use it to make me join up with you?” Red gasped, furious at the reply.
“We want the same thing!” Hart replied, aggrieved that she had to point it out. “I shouldn’t have to use it!”
“I don’t trust you,” Red pointed to Hart. “And I trust him less!” She added jabbing a finger in Coffin’s direction. “But it looks like I don’t have much choice.”
“Indeed,” Hart replied stiffly.
“What guarantee do I have that you won’t just hand me over to Korse?”

Hart inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, as if irritated by the question.

“I have no intention of giving Korse anything he wants, including you. But neither am I putting myself out to rescue you if you need it. If you want to escape, you had better keep your wits about you.”
“What about him?”Red nodded towards Coffin.
“I have no idea what Bob has supposed to have done to arouse your clearly suspicious nature...”
“It’s my suspicious nature, as you call it, that keeps me alive! We don’t all have wealth behind us, you know!”
“And I’m not affiliating myself with a Rebel group. If you hadn’t done that, maybe your picture wouldn’t be on an extermination poster? You have only yourself to blame.”
“Oh, and imprisoning people in an exhibit makes you blameless? You’re such a hypocrite! You think you can do anything just because...”

Red’s fury reached fever pitch, only pausing as Hart took out the remote once more. The response was instant as Red silenced and stared intently, holding her breath and awaiting the agony that never came.

“Do you want to help Ghoul or not?” Hart’s own temper was beginning to fray and Red found herself forced to swallow her pride; they did have the same goal after all.
“Yes,” she replied through gritted teeth. “Just make sure your lackey has the same agenda as you and doesn’t have his own little side project with Korse.”
“You needn’t worry, Bob is loyal,” Hart replied with unexpected candour.
“Yeah, Bob’s loyal.” Red nodded with a scowl. “Loyal to Bob.”

With a sigh, Hart placed the remote back into her purse and activated the release to the cell allowing Red to join her.

“Where’s my gun?” Red asked immediately raising only a light laugh from Hart as she turned and headed for the door to the exhibition.
“I’m not stupid, Red. Follow me, we have a great deal to discuss.”

*

Outside the diner, Tina closed the hood of the trans am with a flourish, the loud slam bringing a smile to her lips. It wasn’t often she got the chance to work on such a well maintained classic car like this, especially with the modifications that Ghoul had made to it to boost the power. She had been quietly, and sometimes not so quietly, impressed at the changes he had made. Taking time to understand the modifications and work with them instead of merely returning the engine to the way it had originally been built, she made a mental note to have a long discussion with the man she now considered an electronics genius. His adaptations to the fuel injection overdrive, starter motor, sensors and relays had probably improved the car’s performance by approximately thirty percent or more and, from a professional perspective, she couldn’t have been more impressed if she tried. Now in the driving seat and revving the newly tuned and repaired engine with delight, she was surprised to see her uncle drawing a finger across his throat as a signal to cut the engine. Only when she saw the cellphone pressed to his ear did she understand.

“What’s that?” Larry spoke loudly into the phone; sighing with relief as the noise died. “The Killjoy’s bike? Are you sure? I’m out on a job right now, Gordon but if you get it to my shop I can fix it up... No one with it? Or near it? You checked? You’re sure? Okay, okay, I know you have eyes! You got the GPS for where you found it? Hang on, I’ll just get a pencil...”

Larry fished a notebook and pencil from his pocket, jotting down the co-ordinates Gordon was giving him. He couldn’t help feeling confused, after all, how had it got there?

Notes