Peppermint And Gunpowder

Chapter One: Look Alive, Sunshine

Look alive, sunshine.

I feel the trigger curve around my finger, and the cool metal presses to my palm. My body jolts with recoil.

Strands of hair not matted by blood or by dirt fall into my face, blurring my vision into a jailhouse of glares through scratched sunglasses.

Drones of the Better Living Industry fall in heaps, crimson spilling out of their white clad suits and dresses made of cotton. Men with jet black hair chopped short and women with blonde hair grown long, pulled into tight knots on the back of their mindless heads.

I've fought the war, and I've won the war. I look over the bloody, metal, and glass covered battlefield of what was once the BLI main office.

Shaking my head, clenching my eyes and saying a quick prayer, I head for the door.

"Who are you?" I hear a voice call, soft against the screaming silence.

I turn and see a man with a yellow painted mask covering half his face, hair like fire sticking out in many directions. He stands tall, proud. I narrow my eyes and glance quickly over his leather jacket and tight blue jeans, the strap of a weapon latched over his right leg.

"My name's Mercury." I say, wiping the cut across my temple. "Mercury Mask."

"You sound like a Killjoy." He says, stepping closer. I step back.

"Want to be," I say. "Who are you?"

"Party Poison." He steps closer again, and again I step back. I don't trust him, my gut says to, but my mind say not to. "Leader of the Killjoys."

"How can I be sure?" Now it is my turn to ask questions. "Party Poison?"

"Don't know," He says, smirking. "Guess you'll have to trust me."

He goes to walk out the door, or I thought. He turns at the last moment to another direction, to another person.

"Kobra Kid," He looks at the young man, younger than himself, and nods back to me. "This is Mercury."

"Mercury?" The man--Kobra Kid--asks confused. He looks me up and down, stopping on the gun gripped tightly in my hand. I slip it into the holster on my hip and tilt my head. "How long have you been here?"

"Fought since the beginning." I shrug, and look at his dust covered attire. Red leather coat, yellow shirt and black stripes. A motorcycle helmet held under his left arm. A bandana pulled down around his neck, as if it was once wrapped around his face.

"Hm." He nods. "But who are you?"

"Like Poison here said, I'm Mercury. Mercury Mask." I say, the cut on my head beginning to sting.

"Mercury Mask? You sound like a Killjoy." Kobra comes closer, a small string of hair bouncing on his forehead. His face and hands are tanned, he looks like he spends most times outside under the sun.

"She wants to be." Poison says, clapping his hand on my shoulder. I flinch away, but he doesn't notice--and if he does, he doesn't acknowledge it. "That's why we're talking to you."

"I thought you were the leader." I look at Poison, raising an eyebrow.

"I am, but he's my brother. And we all work together." Poison takes his hand off my shoulder, and I feel myself straighten up.

"All? How many of you are there?" I look around, but see nothing but the fallen bodies of the BLI drones.

"Two more, and Gracie. They went outside, haven't seen them since the fight ended." Kobra says, gesturing to the front door and the car sitting in the parking lot. Three silhouettes sit around the car, talking.

"Gracie?" I no longer look at Poison or Kobra, but out the window. Two grown figures walk around the car, and a small child--a girl, it seems--sits on the car's hood. She looks back at one figure, and talks broadly with her hands. She laughs.

"Missile Kid." Poison looks out the window with me. "I don't even know how long she's been with us, I think she always has."

"How come she has a regular name and a Killjoy name and you guys don't?" I tear my gaze from the window and the figures and the girl on the car to look back at Kobra.

"Maybe we do, and we just haven't told you." Poison lifts his yellow painted mask and places it atop his head, pushing his brightly coloured hair to the side. I see his nose clearly now, slightly pointed, and his eyes of a hazel green colour. His features are odd but suit him, maybe when he was a child they were different--his nose too big, his eyes too close--but now, grown, he seems to have adapted the uncanny array of features.

"How come you didn't tell us your real name?" Kobra says, drawing my attention away from Poison and onto him.

"Because that's what I go by, that's the name I've made for myself." I fiddle with the seam of my jeans, avoiding his gaze. "Mercury is my name. Nobody knows my real or birth name." I barely know my own name.

"Alright, Mercury, you are who you say you are--which you didn't say much, but whatever. You seem like a good fighter, and smart. Why do you want to be a Killjoy?" Poison steps forward. I look at him this time, not flinching.

"Because you do what's right. BLI... they're making drones, stripping people of their identity. They make you into something you're not, and that something is nothing. They can't win." I pinch my lips together. "They can't."

"Win what?" The way Poison speaks, the way he stands and acts, he knows why, yet he still asks. He wants me to answer, he wants to see if it lines with his answer.

"The world. Society. Taking everything and turning it to nothing." I don't back down, even if I'm not quite sure what I'm doing.

"I think you'd be a good Killjoy," Poison says. "What do you think, Kobra?"

He just nods. I fight a smile, yet it inches its way across my face.

"Really?" I ask, my voice small and frail. I feel like a child needing assurance.

"Really." Poison glances back at Kobra, who's face remains emotionless. He nods and begins to walk away, Poison follows. I watch, confused.

Poison looks over his shoulder, grinning. "You coming?"