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It took Frank a couple of weeks to get used to living in the desert. Life in the Slums hadn't been exactly easy, but desert life was even worse. At least back then, he'd had a soft cot to sleep on. Poison and Kobra Kid didn't seem to have a single place to call their own either. Half the nights, they stayed in abandoned houses or stores, and the other half were spent sleeping out under the bright stars.
Tonight was such a night. It was late, and their fire had almost died down, but the moon was bright and full. The ground was hard underneath Frank's ass as he sat a bit apart from the rest of them and took a drag on his cigarette.
He still wasn't convinced running to the desert had been the best idea, but he’d been trusting Jet Star for years, and though he'd been reluctant, he'd believed Jet when he said that leaving the Slums was their best option. He might have risked staying if it weren't for Grace. She was asleep already, wrapped up in the softest blankets they had. Frank glanced over at her. He could just make out her face. She looked peaceful. You deserve better than this, kiddo, he thought.
Just as he was about to get into a good wallow, he noticed a figure stand up from the shadows and head toward him, and then there was Party Poison sitting down next to him.
"Got a light?" he asked, voice low and quiet.
Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter. He held the flame up as Poison leaned in to light up. He took a deep drag and breathed the smoke out toward the sky.
They spent a couple of minutes in silence, and then Poison broke the silence, asking, "Got a lot of packs?"
It took Frank a moment to realize what he was referring to. "Just two left. One every other day."
Poison smiled. "Better than me, then. I smoke one a day. Mostly. Sometimes I cheat, on bad days."
"Get a lot of bad days?"
Poison let out a small laugh. "Depends on how you define bad."
Frank took a last breath of smoke before throwing the butt in the dust and stubbing it out with his toe,
"I don't know," he said, "I'd call these past weeks pretty bad."
A corner of Poison's lips lifted up in a lopsided smile. "You'll get used to this. In another couple weeks, you'll be looking back on these days and wishing you had it so good."
Frank was quiet for a moment. "How do you deal with it?" he almost whispered.
"Well," Poison drawled, "the company helps."
Frank glanced over at him to find Poison's eyes half hooded, looking straight at him from beneath his lashes.
He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I'm going to bed," he said, and didn't wait for a reply before grabbing his sleeping bag and blanket and stretching out near Grace.
"Good night, sweet," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Then he closed his eyes and went willingly into the arms of Morpheus.
*
He woke to the sound of voices, and Grace's laughter sounding high and clear above all. He sat up slowly, wincing at the soreness in his back. He must have slept in a weird position.
"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Grace called out, taking a break from what seemed to be a complicated hand game with Jet Star. She giggled. "You have crazy hair."
Frank granted in response and reached out to flatten his hair. He grimaced as his fingers ran through the strands. It really needed a wash. That was another drawback of living in the desert: showers were few and far between.
Breakfast was a serving of canned fruit and a cup of watery coffee. They were running a bit low on supplies, he noticed. He wasn't sure where Poison and Kobra got their food. Most of the stuff they had now had come from his own and Jet's stores.
Once he was done eating, he stood up and went a bit away to piss. There was a convenient bush nearby, its branches thin and spindly, but rising high and proud out of the otherwise desolate land.
As he walked back toward their little camp, he noticed Poison and Kobra bent over the hood of the car, poking around the engine and conversing quietly.
"Anything I can help with?" he asked as he came near.
Poison turned around, startled. "Uh, yeah," he said. "One of the front lights is out. It's not that big a deal, but we’re not sure how to fix it."
Frank rolled up his sleeves. "I'll have a look."
The two of them stepped aside and Frank leaned in to putter around. "I'll have to check if it's the bulb or the wires," he said as he pulled the thing out. He switched the front lights, and went to turn them on.
"Well, you're lucky, it's not the connection," he said. "You just need a new bulb. Got any spares?"
Kobra shook his head. "Doctor D. might have some though."
"We'll go this evening," Poison said. "It's been a while since we've dropped in on him anyway."
"Doctor Death Defying?" Frank asked, curious.
"The one and only," said Poison.
Frank could admit to being intrigued. Doctor D. was the voice of the Zones. His show often toed the line of what was acceptable to BCI authorities, but he was one of the few voices who provided non-government sanctioned news. Needless to say, Frank was a fan.
*
It was late afternoon, and the heat was weighing heavy on them when they pulled up to what seemed to be a rundown shack a few hundred yards off the beaten path.
Frank unpeeled himself from the seat and stepped out. The back of his shirt was soaked, and he pulled it off and threw it back in the car. A glance up showed Poison staring at him, but as soon as Frank caught his eye, he winked and turned away to walk into the building.
The rest of them followed, and Frank sighed happily as they stepped into the welcome shade.
The place was just one room, filled with all sorts of electronic equipment and shelves and boxes stood against the walls, filled with even more equipment and various trinkets. Frank took only a cursory look around before his eyes settled on the man sitting down in the middle of it all. He was a big, burly guy with a rather messy beard and tinted glasses.
"If it isn't my favorite troublesome duo," he said, and Frank could recognize that booming voice anywhere. This was the famous Doctor Death Defying. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Frank and Jet and Grace. "And you've brought friends."
"That's Jet Star and Fun Ghoul," Poison said, pointing back at them.
"And I'm Grace," she said, walking up to him and sticking out her hand. "I love your show."
Doctor D.'s lips turned up into a smile. "Why thank you, little lady. It's a pleasure to meet you." He shook her hand vigorously.
"We're in need of a headlight," Poison said.
Doctor D. pointed to a corner, saying, "I've got a bunch of bulbs there. Serve yourself."
Poison beckoned Frank over to the box. Frank heard Kobra asking Doctor D. if he had any news before turning his attention to the stuff in front of him. The box was filled with light bulbs of all shapes and sizes. Some of them weren't even working anymore, Frank noticed, the filament burned out. He rummaged around for a bit before finding one that should work.
Poison accompanied him as he headed outside, and leaned back against the car as Frank popped the hood and got to work.
"You're pretty handy with cars," Poison commented casually.
"I worked as a mechanic in the Slums," Frank replied as he screwed in the bulb before pushing it back into place.
Poison hummed to show he'd heard. "Got any other hidden talents?"
Frank looked up, uncertain if he was imagining flirtatious meaning in Poison's words, but Poison just gazed back at him, eyes wide, projecting an air of innocence.
"Maybe," Frank answered cautiously. "Guess you'll find out eventually."
What kind of game was Poison playing? he wondered as he wiped his hands clean.
"-- runners say they're heading further out, and there are more of them," Doctor D. was saying as Frank walked back inside the shed.
"What's that?" Poison asked, from right behind Frank, startling him. Poison only grinned cheekily at him when Frank turned around, but didn't bother getting out of his space. Frank moved to stand by Grace.
"Dracs," Kobra said. "They're looking for something."
"Someone, more like," Doctor D. said. "You two made some waves when you went in the City." He sounded almost impressed, Frank thought.
The grin on Poison's face was a little bit scary, all teeth, and, "Good," he said firmly. "Let 'em come."
"They also got some higher-up involved now," Doctor D. said. "Don't know who he is yet, but he's got some sort of record. Bald guy, wears a big ol' coat."
Kobra turned to Poison, "You think ...?"
"Yeah," Poison answered sharply, but he didn't elaborate, and Frank got the feeling that he wouldn't even if asked.
"I really like Doctor D.," Grace said to Frank as they were getting in the car, ready to leave again.
Frank put his arm around her and gave her a half hug. "Me too, kiddo."
"Are we gonna see him again?" she asked.
Frank looked up to meet Poison's eye in the overhead mirror. Poison smiled.
"I'm sure we'll come back here," Frank replied, and Grace nodded, satisfied.
*
The sun was setting and the evening chill was starting to come in when they pulled up to an old, abandoned gas station. They hauled all their stuff out and brought it all in. The little store was almost bare, its aisles empty and dark. Kobra reached out to a switch, and the overhead lights slowly flickered on.
"This way," he said, and Frank followed him into a small back room, which turned out to be something like a pantry, with shelves upon shelves of cans of food and bags of what looked to be flour and sugar and coffee. Frank eyed them all eagerly.
"So is this your secret treasure stash or what?" he asked.
"Something like that," Kobra replied with a small smile.
"Fun Ghoul?" Frank turned around. Grace was standing in the doorway. "I'm gonna go explore outside."
"Go on then, kiddo, but not too far, okay?" he said.
Grace nodded and scampered away. Frank turned back to the shelves. He was looking into the bags of dry food, checking to see if any of them were still edible and which had gone rotten.
He was in the middle of tasting a bit of what appeared to be powdered milk he heard the scream. He dropped the bag, not caring whether its contents spilled as he rushed out into the store and pushed the door open.
"Grace!" he yelled as he stumbled outside, just barely avoiding tripping over an abandoned tire in his haste.
Grace was standing by one of the pumps, and Frank's stomach clenched with worry as he saw the masked figure next to her.
Both of them had turned toward him at his shout. Grace looked scared, her lower lip trembling.
"Fun Ghoul?" she asked, and the watery quality of her voice sent a spike of anger through him. He noticed the gun the Drac was holding, casually pointed Grace.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought. His gun was back inside with the rest of his things. He was aware of the other guys coming up behind him, but he didn't take his eyes of the Drac.
It seemed like an age passed as he stood frozen in place, thought it was likely only a few seconds. Grace was trembling, on the verge of crying, and Frank felt completely and utterly helpless. He hated it, and he hated the Drac for daring to point a gun at his kid.
He heard his name whispered, and he pulled his eyes away long enough to see the other guys behind him. Kobra and Poison both had their guns out, and something in his chest relaxe a bit. At least they weren't totally helpless.
Poison advanced toward the Drac slowly.
"Let her go," he said, and Frank was surprised at the controlled anger in his voice.
The Drac didn't say anything, only moved closer and pointed his gun at the back of Grace's head. Frank's breath caught in his throat, and he made to move forward, but was held back by an arm on his shoulder.
"Let me go," he growled.
The hand on his shoulder tightened, and Frank turned around, furious.
Kobra cut him off before he could say anything. "Keep calm. We can handle them," he said.
Frank opened his mouth to argue, but another voice called out from behind.
"We meet again, Killjoys."
The man that emerged from the shadows was the one Doctor D. must have been talking about earlier. He was bald, but he was one of those few who could actually pull it off. He was wearing a long white coat, with ruffles at the sleeve ends, and his grey pants were tucked into knee-length brown boots. He looked like he came from a different century.
"What are you doing here?" Poison spit out.
The man tsk-ed in response. "You've been causing trouble again. Starting a fight in the City? Not very smart of you."
Poison's jaw clenched. "Let the girl go."
The man gave the Drac a small nod, and he lowered the gun. Frank was flooded with relief as Grace ran to him. He knelt down and wrapped her in a fierce hug, whispering in her hair, "You're okay, baby. You're all right now." He pulled back to look her in the eyes, and reached up to wipe away the few tears that had slipped down her cheeks. "Just stand behind me, okay? I'll take care of you, kiddo."
Grace just nodded, and as he stood up, she hid behind him, her small hand wrapped tightly in the bottom of his shirt. Frank turned his attention back to the situation unraveling in front of him. The Drac had stepped back into the shadow as the strange man walked forward, stopping only a couple of feet in front of Poison.
"Now, now, Party Poison. Surely we can talk without these guns." His lips curled up disdainfully as he glanced down at the gun in Poison's hand. "After all, we're old friends, aren't we?"
"What the fuck," Frank said.
The man's attention didn't waver from Poison, but he'd definitely heard Frank. "You mean you didn't tell your new friends about me? I'm hurt," he said, with an exaggerated pout.
"Shut up," Poison ground out.
"G, your left!" Kobra called out suddenly. Frank only had a moment to wonder who he was talking to before a beam of light shot right through where Poison had been standing a second before.
In one brief moment, the tense atmosphere that surrounded all of them broke, and then both Kobra and Poison were shooting at Dracs. Frank was relieved to see that Jet Star had brought his gun as well, and seemed to be holding his own alongside the other two.
He quickly pushed Grace toward the entrance to the store, doing his best to stand between her and the shots being fired as he followed her in.
"Get down and stay there," he hissed, rummaging quickly through his things and pulling out his gun. He checked the gun: it was almost fully charged, as he'd had no reason to use it yet out here.
He stepped back out again to see that the Dracs had given up their guns and a couple of them where fighting fist to fist with Poison. He was holding his own, but only barely. His lips was bleeding, and he was holding one of his hands over his side, as if he'd been shot there. Jet and Kobra were standing next to each other, and shooting at the remaining Dracs to the left of the gas station.
Frank saw as Poison took out one of the Dracs with a well-aimed jab to the nose, but then the other Drac was on him, putting him in a headlock. As Poison struggled to get free, Frank took aim and fired. The shot hit the Drac straight in the back, and he crumpled.
Poison pulled himself away and retreated. "Thanks," he breathed. Frank nodded. The two Dracs -- the Poison had punched was helping the one Frank had shot -- were getting unsteadily to their feet and limping away, back into the Darkness.
The ones Jet and Kobra were battling with seemed to follow their lead, and soon Frank heard the revving of engines and the tell-tale crunch of dirt and rocks as they hurried away.
"Fuck," Poison said, and fell to his knees.
Kobra was at his side immediately. "You okay?" There was genuine concern in his eyes took in the lip and quickly moved down to where Poison was still clutching at his ribs.
"I'll be fine," Poison said, waving him off. "We have to leave, now."
Kobra nodded. "I know." He turned to Frank. "Grab everything."
Frank didn't question him. He walked back to the store, and over to where their stuff was still on the ground.
"Grace!" he called out.
She came out from behind some shelves.
"Everything's okay," he assured her, "but we have to hurry. Can you help me with this, please?"
She nodded, and between the two of them, they managed to get all the blankets, food, and other things out in under a minute.
Kobra was laying Poison gently in the passenger seat of the car. He turned to Frank. "Got everything? Good. Get in." He barely waited until Frank dumped the stuff in the trunk before he was revving the engine. Frank and Grace got in, and then Kobra hit the gas, and they were leaving the gas station behind.
*
It was late night before Kobra finally stopped the car. Frank didn't know how or why he'd chosen this place in particular, but he didn't care enough to ask. He just took out their things from the car and set up camp silently.
Kobra was wrapping a bandage around Poison's middle. Frank could see the dark bruise there, and winced in sympathy.
"You all right?" Jet Star's concerned voice came from his right.
"I'm fine," Frank said. "Not a scratch on me." He tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace than anything. "You?"
"Just some singed hair," Jet said ruefully.
Frank clapped his friend on the shoulder before heading over to where Kobra was finishing up with Poison.
"Everything okay here?"
Poison looked up at him, and smiled. Or at least, he tried to, but winced in pain as the gesture pulled at his split lip. "I'll be fine," he rasped out. Frank nodded, and turned to Kobra.
"I'm fine," Kobra said. "Just a graze on my leg."
Now that Frank knew to look, he could see where the tear on Kobra's pants was, and the raw skin underneath.
"Anything I can do?" he asked.
Kobra shook his head. He turned to look Poison over one more time, and then said, "I'm taking first watch. You rest." And with that he stood up and headed away from their circle, sitting down cross-legged a few yards away from the car.
Frank sat down next to Poison. He watched at Poison rummaged through he pockets and pulled out a rather misshapen cigarette.
"Got a light?" he asked.
As Poison blew out the smoke, Frank was suddenly reminded of their conversation the night before.
"So this is what you call a bad day, then?"
Poison's eyes slid over to him. "Pretty much," he said.
"You get a lot of them?"
"It happens," Poison said, almost casually. "Every now and then."
"And that guy?" Frank asked. "The one who said he knew you. Who was he?"
Poison didn't answer. Instead he looked over Frank shoulder, and lifted his chin to indicate. "I think you better talk to her," he said.
Frank didn't want to let the subject go that easily, but as he turned around, he saw Grace sitting about three feet away, huddled in on herself, her knees pulled up close to her chest. Frank sighed heavily.
"Hey, kid," he said softly, and Grace turned to look at him. Up close, he could see the tracks her tears had left on her cheeks. He gathered her close. "It's okay," he murmured. "You're fine. I'll take care of you, you know this. We'll be okay." He rubbed a hand up and down her back as she burrowed her face into his chest.
He held her close until he could hear her breath slowing into the rhythmical in and out that indicated sleep. Than he laid her gently down onto a sleeping bag and covered her with a blanket.
"You did the right thing," came Jet Star's words, some minutes later.
"Huh?" Frank looked up at his friend.
"Leaving the slums," Jet explained, as he sat down. "It was the right thing to do."
Frank swallowed bitterly. "How can you be so sure?" He couldn't get rid of the image of Grace with tears on her face and a gun pointed at her head.
"It's simple," Jet said. "Kobra Kid and Party Poison are good guys. The Dracs are evil. The enforcers are evil. Sooner or later, they would have come after me, and after you, and they would have taken Grace away. They don't like us, people like us. Those of us who lived in the Slums, or out here. They want control, and we were never going to give them that."
"Yeah, I guess," Frank acknowledged.
"You did the right thing," Jet said, and with that, he stood up, leaving Frank alone with his thoughts once more.
Jet was right, Frank knew this. He didn't want to think about it, but deep in his gut he knew it. He'd agreed to leave the Slums to keep Grace safe, after all. And if it was a fight the Dracs wanted, well. Frank wasn't exactly a stranger to fights.
"We'll get through this," he whispered down at the sleeping child, "I promise." And for a moment then, he let himself believe it would be true.