FicWad

Captivated by her keen sense of strategy, I sat there--still very restrained but in another world all at once. Blood smeared on her flawless features. It painted up her lengthy arms in a beautiful sleeve. She knocked out her twenty-seventh Drac. Heaving an easy sigh. Placing the ray guns comfortably into the top of her jeans.

She was naturally born to kill. Five years in the desert, I'd never witnessed a massacre such as that. By a woman, not to mention. It amazed me! Turned me on, to say the least. Now, it wasn't just her beauty, or her body that I wanted. She was someone I could have by my side to help defend me but defend herself at the same juncture. And women like that--guys and gals--you couldn't find that often. Especially in the dessert. She would have to have the worst of two worlds, and Dice did. I could say, she was one-in-a-million, but she was something more than a meaningless ratio. She was a human being. A perfect human being.

She took the time to wipe the blood stained mask from her face. Discarding it with the fabric of a Drac collar, blown off in battle. She swiftly drew to her dead fiancé's body. Patting him down for something useful to obtain. Withdrawing a radio from his beheaded form, she twisted the knob on the top, turning it on. A small crackle was made out of Korse's belt.

"Testing!" She screamed into the speaker. I watched her on camera, smiling wide and wickedly at the chaos she'd caused. "Testing three, four, five, eight?" She laughs maniacally. This girl was having the time of her life! "I know you're there but most importantly, you have two things I want." She was about to make a bargain. I could tell by the way her eyes narrowed at the casualties she caused. Korse stared down at the radio as if he thought it'd been talking to him. "Yes, you stupid cunt, I'm talking to you. Now listen up, it's going to get a little tricky." She implied.

"You. Killed. My. Men!" His gruff voice broke through the silence on the waves. I'd never seen him that frustrated. In all of the years he'd been searching for me and I was set loose out of his grip, this frustration was much worse.

I watched Dice's eyebrow raise and look around at the pool of bodies lying on the ground. She began to count.

"You killed my mother." She simply said as she continued to count off the dismembered forms that lied in a thick mess on the ground. Korse clutched the radio, almost attempting to destroy it with his bare hands. But he wasn't strong enough. Fail. "Now, I've killed twenty-seven, but you and I both know I could take more." At that, he couldn't even express a small glint of doubt on his face. He knew what she was capable of.

"What do you want?" He spoke quickly. Trying not to show any sign of surrendering, even though he was.

"I want you to release Red and I want Jada released too."

"No." Damn. Not even seconds before she stopped talking he replied.

"Okay, then I'll triple that, kill them both and then kill you." Korse looked to me, as if I had some kind of anecdote or answer for him. I knew she didn't mean it; to kill Jada and I both. But she had to run a tight bargain. "That's how many, now? Eighty one, plus Red, Jada, and you count as negative-one...I give up. You do the math." She laughs.

"You can't do that!" His grip on the radio grew tighter, his eyebrow-less forehead grew wrinkles which arched downward dismay.

"Well, why can't I?" The room grew silent. Korses impenetrable stare couldn't distract me from watching Dice smile and wink at me through the camera. She was truly remarkable.

"Fine." He spoke in a sharpened tone. "But on one condition. You give me that locket."

"Ha! Nope." And with a flash, she shoots out the camera. The screen goes blank, accept for the BL/ind logo of a smile. Under it the phrase that pays, "We've Got It From Here...". Bullshit.

"Does this mean, she's going to kill me?" I wasn't really questioning the matter. Though, seeing Dice's craft with a Drac gun, I wouldn't doubt she could take me out. I'd let her.

Korse's eyes narrow on me. Almost feeling bad. My pleading expression never leaving my face, he goes to the side of the room and pulls out a drawer.

"You might need this." From the drawer, he withdraws my yellow and black raygun. How I missed it so. Though, this was too easy. I wanted to keep playing mind games with him until he really felt stupid.

"A gun? What the fuck is that supposed to do for me? You've seen what she can do with two! What am I supposed to do with one?" He whipped around, shock conveyed upon his ghostly demeanor. "All for a fucking locket? I'm gonna get ghosted, by a chick, for a fucking locket!"

"Will you shut the fuck up?" He hollered. I wanted so badly to laugh, but I had hold my lack of composure. He went into the drawer again, grabbing a large ring of keys. Yes, he was really going to un-handcuff me. His face drew up with hesitance as he went behind me and tried each key. The third key he tried worked just in time for Dice to appear in the room. Fully released, I turned around to see her questioning face. It seemed to ask, "What the fuck's going on here?" She looked to the gun on the table, realizing it was mine.

"I see you've gone with half of my proposal. Now, the other half..." She points both of her guns at him. That sadistically sexy smile never leaves her tanned face. The bruise is slowly starting to fade.

"Give me the locket first." I turn to him and turn back to her. Malice and anger paint over her Goddess-like features. Her head shook rapidly as she spoke.

"You know, this won't bring her back. Keeping it doesn't mean you'll be pardoned for the shit you did to her!" She ripped the locket off of her neck making the chain pop, and threw it at him. With feasting eyes, he caught it. "You're going to end up just like him. Lying on some cold floor, with nothing to show for it. Not even a head!" She aimed for his head but shoots his knee instead. He cries out in pain as I stand up, shaking the cuffs off of me and pull my gun into it's rightful holster. He barrels down onto the ground as he holds it up.
"Now, call off your men!" She commanded. He raised the radio to his tight thin lips. Narrowed his eyes on her once more. Probably wishing she was never born, or wishing her dead for that matter. With a sharp intake of breath, he pushes the radio's button and says,

"Attention all Draculoids: Stand off and disarm at once!" He became listless. His face, tear stained. His bald and dainty physique, sweaty. He'd been defeated. Defeated, by none other than his own blood.

"Now call off the Crows!" She commands with both guns still aiming directly at him. The radio positioned to his mouth, his glare burns straight through Dice and cauterizes a hole in the steal doorway. "Now!" Her voice bellows but he remains still and quiet. With a flash of light, Korse's other knee is taken out. Her aim was a lot more accurate this time. His agonizing scream was unmatched by his soulless persona and cold exterior.

"Attention all Scarecrows:" He breathed in and out at a heavy pace. He was truly injured now, there was no saying, what she did to both of his knees. I wasn't sure he would be able to walk again. Then I thought of him trolling around in a wheelchair. He looked a lot-less menacing. "Stand off and disarm at once!" Satisfied, Dice drew both guns back into her waistband. Pulling my arm slightly, she said,

"We need to go." Tugging my arm lightly. Before I could leave the room behind, I couldn't help but to look down at the man himself. The Sadman. Well, he was really sad now. I doubted he'd ever be able to walk again, and to be defeated by the very daughter who he gave away for his own selfish reasons.

To be honest, I felt bad. Even though, making him immobile did help me in the future, I just always thought things had to be that way. He had to be mean, and callous in order for this world to be the way it was. What is the dessert without Korse and his army of toadies chasing and killing us Killjoys? Nothing, is what it will be. There was no more danger now that the poor schmuck wasn't a threat. To be taken from your thrown by a woman, none the less, must have killed him on the inside. Not that I'm a chauvinist but the minor thought of Korse being a feminist just kills me. Though, you could never see anything passed those cold eyes, it almost resembles the eyes Dice has when she's killing. The apple doesn't fall far from the psycho tree.

We strolled briskly through halls upon halls and corridors, along the way, releasing other Killjoys inside of the cells. Rescuing about thirty at best. Such an interesting sight to see; people of all races and creeds dressed to the nines in an array of colors, with hope completely washed out of their small eyes and their huge hearts. My thoughts drifted back to my younger brother subconsciously; Mikey wouldn't have given up hope. Hope was the very reason he'd run from Battery City and I couldn't blame him, I just wish he'd told me before-hand. I could've helped him. We could've left together if he wanted to. But then again, I wouldn't have ran into Dice. That's how fate works, right?

"Desiree Korse." She spoke into an intercom. The door buzzes and slides to the left with a mechanical sound. We walk straight into the path set for us, only to be ceased by a Plexiglas door, surrounded by Plexiglas walls. Housing a large living room, completely furnished with modern seating and cherry wood tables. Dice goes to her back pocket pulling out a ring of keys. Picking one precisely and shoving it into the keyhole. Without having to force it open, once it becomes unlocked, the door opens swiftly. Dice walks in first and throws her keys to the coffee table which sat in front of the long, leather couch that was an ivory tone. The door shuts behind me as she briefly stretches, her joints pop in a relieving manner. She looks back at me with my questioning gaze.
"I'm gonna go get Jada packed and ready, if you want-"

"I'll help." Without another word, she just smiles and walks through the living room, into the hallway to Jada's bedroom. Once again, we were met by a door, but this door was wooden. It had been white with green vines painted along the edges and vibrant purple tulips popping out of them every-so-often. Dice turns the knob slowly, sneaking quietly into the room. She lie there, comfortably on her twin-sized bed, wrapped up in a hoard of blankets. A small smile warms the hard surface of Dice's after-thoughts. She suddenly seems more hopeful, more at peace, but a tad gloomy. Going over to the bed, she slowly sits down on the side she is not lying on.

"Jada, we gotta go, honey." Her large blue eyes open abruptly. Looking up to Dice in a confused expression. Then, looking to me with a smile hidden in her eyes. Sitting up fully, she coiled her arms around Dice's waist and proceeded to squeeze. This making Dice release a full set of emotions. She suddenly started to cry. It didn't go from just tears to sobbing. No, she was full-on crying.

"Don't ever leave me again." Jada whispers. With her eyes shut tight and her head against Dice's chest, I listened closely to the roaring engines outside of Jada's windows. Going completely inside of the room, I went to the window seeing the released Killjoys running in victory. Running to Drac vehicles and hot-wiring them. I just smiled. It was all I could do. The restoration of hope by at least one-hundred people of different walks and ways of life, all being restored at once. Well, it was too much for one night to obtain. So within a matter of seconds, the sun began to rise.

In the presence of joyous sobs and wild raves, I was somewhere in the middle. Just smiling.



The sun beat down strong on the hood of the car we'd stolen from BL/ind. It was hard imagining driving another car, so imagine how it felt actually driving another car. It wasn't too bad. It was a bit on the slow side but the engine was okay. Just okay. It didn't roar like my baby and sure as hell didn't run like her either. The tires didn't push the same and there was no Hemi engine! This car was as rough as a dull blade after ninety-three shaves! The wheel wasn't able to grip, seeing as it had no grips or bright orange cover to it. The interior was lame. Black leather with now detailed stitching of any other colors. But it would do...I guess...

The road seemed so much longer in the daytime. Though, I didn't mind. Dice was by my side howling away to "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane. For someone so beautiful, her voice was unbearable. I couldn't understand how it seemed so different from that night in the bar. Come to think of it, it definitely could have been from whatever had been in that 'fun flask' she'd been throwing back.

Jada was in the back bopping away to her Thirtieth Generation iPod Nano Classic Touch. She chose to keep her singing to a minimum as she became slowly withdrawn from Dice and I. Watching the cacti go by. The red sand whip up into small cyclones as we passed, never minding the speed limit. I often wondered what she thought. Earlier that morning, I heard her mention her father. I heard Dice hesitate to answer. I feel that she probably gave her a certain look, signaling she did what she had to. Jada never questioned it again. Though, she didn't seem bothered by the fact that his presence was no longer around. I still wanted to make her feel like what happened, wasn't Dice's fault.

"Keep your head!" She wailed again.

"If you keep singing, the family of wolves you're howling to will find us!" The song ends as she giggles mindlessly. Swatting me on my right arm, she sits back.

"Shut up!" Her smile never faded from when the song started. She begins to slowly fix her hair in the mirror, noticing Jada's eyes full of questions. She turns to me with a more serious demeanor. "What do you think she's thinking about?" A small hint of worry hidden in her tone. Taking my eyes away from the road briefly, I reply,

"I don't know..." Dice looks back at her. Just staring at her, partially afraid of what Jada might think of her now; knowing what happened to her father, knowing that it involved the person she trusted most.

Jada's eyes tore from her window in the backseat. Looking up to Dice with those opaque blue eyes, she takes down her headphones, in which completely cover her ears, and provides Dice with a questioning look.

"Yeah?" Taken back by her awareness, Dice hesitates to reply.

"What are you listening to?" With her back turned toward the road, she kneels on the seat.

"Just some Mad Gear." She piped up with a small smile. Dice rolls her eyes, wondering why people listen to their music.

"They're so weird! That one song about old people makes me sick!" She retorts in disgust.

"Anything to drown out your wailing." Jada mumbles. Making herself comfortable in the long bench seats of the vehicle.

"For your information, young lady, my singing was influenced by Grace Slick, herself! Thank you very much!" Feigning a defensive position. Settling correctly back into her seat. Though, struggling slightly due to her tipsy nature. Pausing for a bit, Jada and I briefly made eye contact in the mirror. Holding back a small fit of uncontrollable laughter, we just went on about our rightful duties.

"Don't you dare say anything, Red! You're supposed to be on my side." I was going to retort with something wise, but I recalled what she did to the last person that betrayed her, and decided not to say a thing. I just smiled.


Night fell where day left off and the roads still felt longer. Although, we didn't have that much longer before we were back at the hotel. The faint howl of distant coyotes filled the night air with the insistent buzzing of nature. Dice had fallen asleep after eating a sandwich and three more swigs of whatever the 'fun flask' contained. My little light weight. I assumed Jada was asleep in the back, though I could have been wrong. She could have been thinking with her eyes closed. A child her age who witnessed the things she did had lots to ponder. She would heave small sighs at times. I felt slightly at fault for her having to think so much. For, she'd been in a stolen car with her step mother, and a fugitive. I couldn't blame her.

"She only drinks when she's happy, you know." I snorted a small laugh as my eyes shifted toward her. Seeing her sprawled out comfortably in the seat, with her head placed on the window and her mouth gaped open slightly. "Which isn't that often." She finished.

"Well, I'm pretty sure whatever was in that flask did her in, you?"

"I think she's finally free. She never sang or talked that much there."

"No?" She shakes her head. "Well, hopefully she feels comfortable enough to do those things now."

"She's more than comfortable." She smiles genuinely.

"How about you? How do you feel?"

"Comfortable enough to say that I almost trust you." I was surprised by her reaction. I was known through Battery City as a wanted fugitive. And here was this eight year-old girl telling me she almost trusted me. It made me nervous.

"Well then, I almost trust you too." We smiled back at each other. Reaching that dilapidated neon sign again. I felt a soft wave of relief wash over the vehicle. For once we weren't on the run. There wasn't some asshole dictator and his hoard of followers trying to catch me. There hadn't been that constant need to hide or else you'd be found. I was finally free. We were finally free and nothing could stop us. The man who stopped us before was now crippled in both legs and wasn't a threat anymore. In fact, the woman passed out in the passenger's seat proved to be much more of a threat than he.

But I still hadn't found what I was looking for.