2 Years Later
It was 2018, and I had mostly figured this shit out. BLI were the bad guys, trying to take over and get rid of emotion. They usually wore black and white, and had lots of Draculoids out here in the Zones where I was. Then there were the Killjoys. I was a Killjoy. We were the rebels fighting against BL/ind, killing Dracs out in the Zones. Killjoys are all about emotions and feelings, which is why we’re the exact opposite of BL/ind.
The most famous Killjoys were the four Fabulous Killjoys, Party Poison, Kobra Kid, Fun Ghoul, and Jet Star. They basically started the whole rebellion, along with Dr. Death-Defying and Show Pony. Dr. D had this whole pirate radio station for the Killjoys to listen to, which included kick-ass music. I had learned all I knew about BLI and the Killjoys from reading old newspapers left behind in the shacks where I got food and water.
Being a Killjoy, I had to have a Killjoy name. My name was Ghost Lightning. I thought of it after there was a lightning storm two days after I lost my memory. Sometimes I would lie in a shack at night, unable to sleep, wondering about my past life. What’s my real name? What was my life like? And how exactly did I lose my memory?
But at this particular moment, I wasn’t really thinking about that.
I was being chased by about three Dracs. They had caught me stealing a ray gun from one of them and had given chase. I still had the gun, but it was low on battery.
There was an abandoned gas station just ahead. Maybe I could hide in there, lose them, and run back outside. Just as I got closer to the building, of course—I tripped in a fucking gopher hole, twisted my ankle, and fell to the ground.
“Fuck…” I growled to myself, pain shooting through my ankle. I tried to get to my feet, but I couldn’t stand with my sprained ankle. Lasers dotted the ground next to me, and I knew the Dracs were catching up to me. Panicking, I crawled into the gas station.
Everything in the gas station was covered in a thick layer of rust. No one had been in here for a while. Snarling in pain, I dragged myself into a corner and curled up as small as I could, hiding behind a stack of tires. Maybe, just maybe they wouldn’t see me and I would be okay. I squeezed my eyes shut. If they found me, I was dead.
I heard footsteps coming around the corner. My heart seemed like it would explode through my chest as I looked up.
It was Kobra Kid, one of the four Fabulous Killjoys.
Shock and confusion jolted through my body. What the hell was he doing here? I opened my mouth to say something, but he put a finger to his lips. He gestured for me to stay where I was before he turned around and walked back outside.
Outside I heard several yells and a laser gun being fired. I pressed myself harder into the corner, hoping it was Kobra Kid who had fired the gun.
Kobra came around the corner about a minute later, not a single scratch on him. I looked up at him. I had only ever seen one picture of him, in the newspaper, and he had been wearing sunglasses. Now that he wasn’t wearing them I could see how handsome he was.
Kobra Kid had blond hair with dark brown roots that was kind of slicked back. He had a handsome, square-like face with hazel eyes. And he was tall.
“You alright?” he asked.
“I—I sprained my ankle, I think. I can’t walk,” I said softly.
“Show me,” he said, kneeling down next to me.
I unzipped the boot on my left foot and rolled up the pant leg to reveal a slightly swollen, bruised ankle. He touched it gingerly, lightly pressing down on it. I winced.
YOU ARE READING
Summertime
Science FictionTerry Seymour, a 17-year old girl who had just recently lost her memory, is thrown out into the world of Killjoys, Better Living Industries, and Draculoids. After two years of hardcore survival in the desert, she meets up with the Fabulous Killjoys...