Ice in the Desert Chunk 3

Who's this mysterious Poison that claims to lead the Killjoys? Wasn't their leader Jet Star? New light is shed on the desert happenings.

 After standing there stunned for a few moments, I manage to get a sentence out. “W-what? Dr. Death-Defying... He said...” but before I could finish, Party Poison waved it off.

“Come on, Jet-Star had a backup plan for if he died. I was his deputy, and since now he's dead, I'm the leader of this wonderful little group out here in the sand. If you're going to be a proper Killjoy, you need a proper name. Don't even tell me what your current one is! I don't care!” he says, then he stands up and walks over to me. He whips out a blade before I can see it, and rips the cloth binding my wrists, and I relish the freedom. Party Poison looked over me, face creased in concentration, as if he was making a difficult decision.

“Black Ice. That's a good one. Black ice is ice that you can't see, it's clear and smooth. They didn't see you. You were invisible out there, at least to them. Your eyes are blue, like ice.” he shrugs, like changing my name without my consent was no big deal. “It's done then. You're part of us. Call me Poison. Any questions?”

I shake my head, a little stunned, then one thing comes to mind. “H-how did ya get this place down here? It's like a fort.” it was bothering me, how they had this large concrete space out in the middle of the desert.

“Now that,” he starts, with a voice probably used for speeches. “Is a great question. You see, it's an old military bunker. One of the others stepped on the hatch, the rock, one day, and went crashing down here. Cam myself to check it out, made it into a base. Used to have labels and stuff everywhere, but we covered up most of them.”

Well, that sounds pretty reasonable. “Oh.” I reply lamely.

“Any more questions?”

“Um... no.”

“Good. Go get some sleep, it'll be a busy day tomorrow. Malice will show you to one of the rooms. You're going to have to share it with the other newbies.” he says, and nods to Malice, who rolls his eyes and stands up. He leaves the room, and I follow him. We head back to the first room, which is now devoid of people. I think it's sort of strange, after all, I wasn't talking with Party-Poison for very long. Maybe they all went to sleep at about the same time. Malice looked back at me and must've seen my confusion. Coulgant always told me my expressions were easier to read then a picture book.

“Once the night patrol comes back,” he explains, “Everyone takes that as the lights-out signal. Since I was on the night patrol, I'll be turnin' the lights off.” and with that, he takes me down a short hallway, with a few room branching off of it. “The one at the far back,” he says, pointing to the last room, “Is where we all meet in the mornings after Poison gets up. Newbies like you're usually stay down this hallway at first.” he knocks on one of the doors, and a weary-looking girl opens it to greet us.

“Oh, Malice, it's just you. What're you doing here? And...” she looks past him. “Who is that?”

“This is, um, what did Poison call you?” he says looking at me, and before I can answer, he speaks again. “Oh yeah. Black Ice, I believe it was. Yeah, that sounds right. She's new, and she's stayin' here.”

The girl nods, and takes my hand. “Well, come on then. I don't bite, though some of the others might.” she chuckles, leading me into the room. It was concrete, with old blankets scattered around on beaten mattresses spread haphazardly around the room. “Here's the lovely lodgings. Nice, eh?” shes says as I take in the room, which is about halfway filled, mostly with kids closer to my age. “Pick a bed, and if you roll around a lot, don't pick one too near another person. You don't want to wake anyone up in the night.” she says with a hint of warning, just to say, You don't want to get on anyone's bad side. I nod a little absentmindedly, realizing how tired I was. I flop down onto one of the makeshift beds, and stare up at the ceiling.

The light flickers off, and the door shuts. I hear the girl clamber onto a mattress, and then all the noise stops. Just like that, occasionally permeated by a kid's sigh, or a body shifting around under the blankets. The silence allowed me to think, and I pieced the events of the day, or, more accurately, the evening. The radio announcement, the scavenging, the capture, and the Killjoys. What would Coulgant say if he knew where I was and what I was doing right now? He doesn't have a very high opinion of the destructive, energetic gang. I inwardly cringe when I think of his disapproving glare.

With these thoughts whirling in my mind, I drift into fitful sleep.

Author's Note

Just watch out for typos.