FicWad

Written by me, italics by Deming.

Missile sat on the roof of the diner, looking out at the surrounding zone. The sun was receding into the horizon slowly, leaving its red mark on the landscape as it set. All was quiet, and Missile found her thoughts wandering. She was still very confused as to what was going on with Mad Gear. Aeon had explained to her that they were relocating so they could find a better fan base. Missile wasn't sure whether she should believe that or not. After all, Mad Gear hadn't so much as picked up their instruments at all that week. Surely they would have practiced.
Then again, they were being housed by a DJ. That had to count for something. Missile decided she was too curious for her own good. She stood up slowly, ready to jump off, when a voice startled her, making her fall against the shingles.

"Missile! Where are you?" Kobra Kid stood almost directly underneath her spot on the roof, looking around the landscape in vain.

"I'm up here," she called out painfully. She had hit her elbow on the rough edge of the roofing and was now bleeding.

Kobra looked up and saw Missile holding her arm gingerly. He was on the roof next to her in one swift movement.

"What are you doing up here? Are you okay? What happened?"

"I um... I came up here to clear my head. I like being up high. I fell when you called for me."

"Oh, Missile," Kobra looked at her sadly, a guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. How bad is it?"

"Not bad. It's just a scrape. Really, I'm fine." She hated to see Kobra so worried about her. She hated making people worry.

"Come on, I think it's time to go inside. It's been a long day," Kobra said, jumping off the roof. He held up his hand to assist Missile. She rolled her eyes and jumped down just as easily as he had. He shrugged.

Kobra was right. They had had a long day. It took all week to fix the car; and Missile mostly hovered, bored. The car was finally finished that day, and Mad Gear proceeded to spend all day learning about the zones. Show Pony as their guide, of course. Missile's legs were tired from being stuffed in the Trans Am for hours. Mad Gear seemed to be really interested in all the different places, but to Missile, it was all just one big desert. They kept talking about things she didn't understand; using words she had never heard of.

Missile and Kobra walked into the diner to see the other members of Mad Gear gathered around the table. They were eating out of white cans. POWER PUP was written in bold black lettering.
"Um... isn't that dog food?" Kobra asked in awe. Party nodded and grunted unhappily.

"It's really all there is..." Jet said forlornly. Kobra sighed and sat down, motioning for Missile to do the same. She sat next to him and picked up a can and a fork. She frowned at the sealed can, reluctant to eat its contents.

Ghoul reached over and took Missile's can and peeled it open with a can opener. He did the same for Kobra, then handed the cans back silently. Missile had never seen him so glum.

Missile took her fork and dipped it in her can slowly. She lifted the brown glob to her mouth, and started chewing. It was almost tasteless, which was nearly as bad as if it had been downright disgusting. All she could really taste was the fake chicken and beef they had flavored it with. And there wasn't much.

Beside her, Kobra choked. Everyone looked at him and saw that his face was red. Party leaned forward worriedly, but Kobra motioned for him to keep eating.

"T-This is horrible. But I need to eat. Don't worry about me, guys. Where are Show and Dr. D?" Kobra asked, obviously trying to avert the attention away from himself. As he asked that, they both came rolling in from Dr. D's little "lair."

"Hello, Mad Gear. And Missile Kid. How are we today," asked their host cheerfully, wheeling over to the table as Show sat down beside the other men. Jet motioned to Kobra, still trying to eat the Power Pup in front of him. Dr. D looked at the table of dog food and the obviously disgusted group and nodded.

"You'll get used to the food. Right, LadyBoy?" Show nodded in agreement.
"It's disgusting, but it's all we've got. Anyway, we need to talk to all of you. Especially Missile Kid." Missile looked up with a mouthful of Power Pup, surprised. She swallowed before speaking.

"What about me?"

"Well, you seem to have... come from nowhere."

"Oh, bu-" Missile tried to speak up but was cut off.

"Party told us about your mother and how you were raised by some friends. But what he didn't tell us is why you're here instead of being warm and cosy at home with them."

Missile put down her fork and laid her head on her arms. The men waited for a reply before realizing that her shoulders were moving up and down, her body shuddering with silent sobs. Jet rubbed her back soothingly and waited until she slowly raised her head.

"I... Okay. I'll tell you. But it's bad. Really bad." Missile sniffled and rubbed her eyes. Jet squeezed her hand and nodded for her to continue; all eyes intently upon the child.

"The tests that were being done on my mother had something to do with pregnancy. I think they did stuff to her. Bad stuff. Stuff that made me... messed up. Mom ran away with me and we stayed with Matt and Jamie. But then Mom left. To keep me safe. I was just a baby when she died. I don't know the name of the man who killed her, but I do know that he's the one that killed Jamie and Matt."

The silence left by Missile's pause was deafening. Kobra spoke up.

"Th-They killed your guardians?"

"Yeah," Missile replied sadly. "They found out that I was living with Jamie and Matt. They came for me. And that's the bad part. Whatever those experiments did to me... I'm a wanted girl. And they're gonna kill anyone who gets in their way. I um... I've doomed you all."

Missile burst into tears again. Show got up from his seat to hug Missile tightly. This time, however, she was almost inconsolable. Jet stood up and silently lifted Missile into his arms, sitting her down on his lap, running his fingers through the hair that was so much like his.

"Well I have some information for you, Missile," Dr D told her when her sobs had quieted a little. She looked at him with curious, tear-filled eyes. Having gotten her attention, he continued.

"The man who murdered your mother is a man known as Korse. We don't know much about him, but he runs Better Living Industries. They became a very powerful corporation after the great fires of 2012. They helped the community come back to life. But don't be fooled, young one. BL/ind is pure evil. They brainwash people."

"Brainwash?"

"The advertisements promise perfection. People fall for that kind of thing."

"So... what does this have to do with me?"

"They also perform experiments in pursuit of making better medicines, better innovations. They persuade ordinary people to help them. We're not sure what they experiment on."

"Well, what about the pregnancy experiments they were doing with my mom?"

"I'm not sure. If I had to guess, they were probably trying to ingrain the love of BL/ind into the baby's head before it ever leaves the womb. But it seems that after your mom escaped, they stopped. There's no information, though. This is a guess." Dr D looked at Missile, trying to figure out if there was anything he left out.

"Missile, dear. I need you to tell me something. It could be important." Dr D addressed her. She nodded for him to continue.

"What was your mother's name?"

"H-Her name was Jenny," Missile choked out with tears bubbling at her eyelids. There was a minute of silence before Party stood up silently and left the room. Everyone looked in his direction curiously and returned to eating almost simultaneously. Dr D broke the silence after a minute.

"LadyBoy? Lean over and switch on the set. I wanna try to get a BL/ind signal."

"BL/ind? Why?"

"Because Missile needs to hear the lies they spout." Show did as he was told and switched on the small television on the table next to the booth. He fiddled with the controls for a minute, getting nothing but static. Finally, he got a picture. Missile could barely make out an Asian woman, speaking Japanese. Everyone sat there and watched her. Missile didn't understand a word of Japanese, but there were subtitles. She squinted to read them.

"Better Living Industries strives to be perfect. In our pursuit to eliminate all flaws from daily life, we give medical procedures to those in need. Unfortunately, some have rotten bodies, as an apple may have a rotten core [All apples have been outlawed for this reason]. Some bodies can not handle the techniques of our medical professionals. It is our duty to inform the public that one of our patients has passed away. We have diagnosed the problem, and have created this new and improved antidote. Never fear death from surgery again!"

The woman help up a small vial, a large grin on her face. The camera flashed to scenes of a blonde woman, unmoving on a metal table. Her head was covered by a sheet by nurses, but not before Missile recognized her face.

"Why would BL/ind admit that they killed someone?" Dr D absentmindedly asked Show Pony. Jet, Ghoul, and Kobra all looked at Missile with horror in their eyes. Missile got up and ran into the room Party had retreated to. She found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes hollow with painful thoughts. He looked up and saw Missile standing there, losing her ability to see through the tears. Party held his hand out to her and she took it, sitting down next to him.

"P-Party? Did you hear that? The transmission? Th-The announcement?"

"Yes. Someone died. Probably one of them," Party replied begrudgingly.

"N-No, Party. It was... It was..." Missile gulped in an attempt to swallow the sobs that were trying to make her way out of her throat. he knew if she let herself cry, she would not stop until she was exhausted.

"Aeon," she finished. Party's jaw dropped and he hugged her tightly. She knew he was tearing up too.

"P-Party," she asked nervously.

"Yes?"

"Why did you run out?"

"Because of your story."

"Did I upset you?"

"It-It's not that."

"Party?"

"I knew Jenny."

"Y-You did?" Missile gaped.

"Yes. We um... we were in love."

"What?" Missile's eyes grew wider.

"Missile," Party took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly. "You're my daughter."

*

The only person I could remember carried me to the car. I must have been wandering in this desert for a while, my shoe soles were worn. I could see where I had walked by the bloody trail my feet left on the ground. Gerard sat me down on the passenger seat. He frantically rooted around for his canteen and when he found it, thrust it into my hands. I poured the water down my throat. Too exhausted to even swallow, I let the life-giving liquid run down my esophagus. While I downed the water, Gerard began to wrap up my feet with napkins.

“How did this happen?” Gerard's hands moved around my feet deftly. Clearly, he had had some experience with this. My vision spun as he cinched the bandage tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Thinking over his question, my hand instinctively went to my stomach. I looked down as if I could see through my skin and into my insides. Nothing. I couldn't remember anything about what happened to me. The most recent thing I could recall was running away, escaping out of some facility, and then wandering into the desert, and even those were a hazy.

“I-I don't. . .” even though the water had helped clear my mind a little, I still could barely function, “remember. . .I don't know.”

Gerard seemed to notice the movement of my hand towards stomach. He didn't comment on it though. He knew to trust what I said. Although, I could the doubt he was struggling with.

“Can you remember anything?” He prodded gently.

“You don't trust me. It's ok, I don't blame you.” He kept silent, maybe in shame, I couldn't tell. “All I can remember is ending up in this desert, the sirens, people chasing me, gunfire. I don't know.” Now I was reliving the brief flashes from my escape. Tasers setting my flesh on fire, but never taking me down. My hands, knees, and jaw connecting with the rough cement. The taste of blood heavy on my increasingly dry tongue. Never stopping my run, even when I wasn't being chased. Crashing into bodies who didn't even offer to help. Collapsing with exhaustion in the desert.

“Jenny! Jenny! Hey, look at me!” Gerard's hands were around my face, and his voice was very loud. “Jesus, you're scaring me, Jenny.”

“Please just take me home.” I almost pleaded him. I didn't want to talk about it. I couldn't talk about it. I couldn't even think about it.

He threw his arms around me, gently though, and held me for a long time. “Of course,” he said into my shoulder.

As Gerard drove, watching the lack of distinctness in the landscape pass by cleared my head of all other thoughts. The fading light cast the desert in a beautiful orange glow. Eventually, I became lost in the desert of my unconsciousness.