Ice in the Desert Chunk 2

Viney has just been captured by a mysterious group of kids. What will become of her now?

 After the trio gets over the shock of finding me, they don't let me go. Just the opposite really.

“Hey! Back off! What're ya doin?! Let go of me!” I mumble, not too loud, as it was still night and I didn't need to attract unwanted attention. One person grabs my shoulders and holds me down with strong arms and a tight grip, and the other binds my wrists behind my back. The last takes my bandanna to press against their wound.

“You injured one of us, we're not lettin' you off so easily.” breathes the kid that was shocked just moments before and was now binding my wrists with fabric. I think I would fight them more if I wasn't outnumbered, and if I wasn't so relieved at the thought of them not being Vampires. Plus, they could even be protection from them. The one with the gruff voice was holding me down. He spoke up.

“What d'ya got with you?” he demands. He lets go of me, and I kick his hands away from my pockets, laden with the cookies and sandwiches.

“Back off! It's mine!” I grunt, and they all give a little laugh.

“It's ours now, not your choice ta make. Right Malice?” snickers the boy who bound my wrists. What kind of name is Malice? Did he make that up for himself?

“Yeah kid, don't make this hard on yourself.” says the boy called Malice, who uses one strong hand to push my feet away, and the other to pull out the food. “Score!” he says, a delighted whisper. “Look at this, guys!” the others congratulate Malice on the find, and I roll my eyes in the dark. A whole evening of work gone to waste, just like that. I tell myself that it could be better, I could be dead at the hands of Vampires right now.

“Right, Straight-Shot, we ought to be headin' back to everyone else.” says the girl, holding the bloody cloth to her shoulder in obvious distress. Where do they get these ridiculous nicknames? I look up at Straight-Shot and see him nod, and he pulls me to my feet, one hand tightly gripping my elbow. They quietly begin leading me through the desert, swerving off in a different direction than the Dust Bunny, heading instead in the direction of the rocky part of the desert. Remembering the Dust Bunny is making me think of Coulgant again. I bet he's given up hope. I wonder if I'll be able to see him again. The thought of never seeing the kid I've been with for many years ever again makes me tear up a little.

It doesn't take long for the little group to find the place they were looking for, a large rock overhang. The girl mutters, “Finally.” to herself as we head climb down a little ditch. I'm led underneath the rock slab, and Malice surprises me when he swings his fist down, a dark streak in the night, onto what I thought was a rock. Instead of the hard sound of a stone, however, a clang resonated through the rock. At first, nothing happened, and I opened my mouth to say something smart-alecky when I hear a rock start moving. Something, a hand, pushes a rock off the top of it, nudging it to one side. I stared at the well-lit hole leading down to a mess of voices. Straight-Shot goes first, climbing down a ladder that I couldn't see.

 The girl went next, wincing with each movement. Malice then looked into the hole, checked to make sure the girl was out of the way, then just shoved me in.

I fell a few feet down, banged my knee on a ladder rung, hit my head on the other wall, and hit the ground with a thud, landing on my back. I curse under my breath at the pain in the back of my skull and my knee, then very loudly at Malice, the one who pushed me down into the pain in the first place.

“Sorry. Had to getcha down somehow, and your hands ain't exactly much use to ya right now.” he says with a slight chuckle as he starts to pick his way carefully down the ladder, pulling the rock back over the top before climbing all the way down. He helps me up, and pushes me through a short corridor to an open concrete room, with other hallways branching off of it, decorated with old rugs and filthy furniture. Rebels are all over the place, and I've never seen a group this big before. They had to have been a gang; there was no other explanation for the amount of people.

I get a few sidelong glances, but for the most part I'm ignored. For the most part, it looks like everyone is occupied with sleeping, eating, and talking. I'm quickly walked through this room and into a hallway with a white star drawn over it with chalk. Down this hallway, there's a door. Malice steps in front of me, and I can see him clearly for the first time.

Black, shiny, straight shoulder-length hair was pushed behind is ears, and his eyes were an odd golden color. I'd never seen anything like it before; it wasn't exactly a normal color. His eyes also something similar but not quite like the coldness that Coulgant's had, that same hard stare. It didn't look quite so steely, however. His skin was surprisingly pale for a rebel, like he didn't get enough sun. I don't see how he couldn't have, there's more than enough sun out in this blasted desert. He also had broad shoulders, and looked plenty strong. He must've stood a good head taller than me, and I assumed he was two or three years older. He had a black hoodie and sweatpants on, good night clothes.

He knocks on the door. “You in there?” he shouts.

“Yes, just one moment, please.” replies a slightly muffled voice. We wait for a few moments, and the door pulls open, revealing a rather strange looking man behind it. “Come in, come in. Malice, is it? Yes, I believe it is. However,” he says curiously, looking at me. “I don't believe I've met you.” He gestures for us to enter the room, and I follow Malice inside. The strange, confident guy shuts the door, and takes a seat at a makeshift table built out of old planks of wood, a chalkboard, and a few other assorted objects to hold it together. “Sit down, Malice.” he says, and Malice takes a seat across from him, and I just stand there stupidly, not sure of what to do. The guy doesn't invite me to sit, and tunes me out altogether for a few moments.

“So, you all made it back rather late. Who was with you? Straight-Shot, and... Sand Demon, I believe.” Malice nods, confirming his statement. “Good, it seems I'm getting better with the names.” the guy grins briefly, and continues. “You're all lucky you made it back in one piece. Not only that, but you seemed to have had some pretty good luck.” his gaze flicks to me, and back to Malice.

He responds as best as he can. “Well, sir, you see... Sand Demon, she... She got shot in the shoulder. By her! She came outta nowhere, and just nailed her! We thought she was a Vamp at first!” he points to me, and the guy's eyes widen a little bit with interest, and he fixes me in his gaze.

He looks to be an adult, not old though, mid-twenties or early thirties. It's shocking, as it's the first adult I've ever seen out of Battery City that isn't an Exterminator or Vampire. His eyes are a light hazel, almost gray, and filled with life and humor, marking him as someone that obviously enjoyed his life. His hair was most unusual, bright and unnatural red, obviously dyed, long and glossy. His face was sharp, and his skin held the proper amount of sunburn for a desert-goer. He had an unusual white star on his cheek made of chalk. He had a bandanna similar to mine, except it was bright green with white spots. Bandannas were common equipment out here. He wore a bright red shirt under a blue jacket, with faded jeans. Around his neck hangs a yellow mask, with blue diamonds painted rhythmically around it, shining plasticly. I took in the strange sight, not sure what to make of this man.

“You shot one of my patrolling people?” he says, suddenly very serious. I squirm a little in the unwavering gaze, nervous as to what he might do when I reply.

“You see,” I start, thinking of my answer, “I thought they were all Vamps out 'n the dark. I was scared and tryin' to get home.” I say, considering adding and my partner at the end of it, but in the end I decide against it. I don't want to think of him right now, I needed to keep my mind clear.

“So you shot one.” he deadpans.

“Y-yeah.” I say, feeling uncomfortable under that silver stare.

“Well, I can't just let that go, you know. I have to try and find someone to cover for her now because she's injured. Get what I'm saying?” he says, raising one eyebrow, waiting for my reply. I stare back at him for a second, confused. Then I understand.

“You want me to fill in for her?” I say, shocked. No, I can't do that, I have to get back to Coulgant and the Dust Bunny! Unfortunately, my worst fears are confirmed when he nods, giving me a humorous grin.

“Now you understand! Consider yourself lucky, do you even know who we are?” he says confidently.

Maurice breaks in, looking at me. “What did ya think we'd bring you in for?” he says, rolling his eyes. “We weren't gonna kill ya.” he acts like this should come as no surprise. If I should have seen it coming, then I had a legitimate reason for not realizing it; I was being dragged through the desert in the night after recovering from the fact that I wasn't going to be killed by Vampires.

The guy with the white star on his cheek speaks up again. “We're only the best gang of wild rebels around, the ones who stir up trouble for the benefit of all the nobodies!” he says, building up the suspense.

“Welcome to the Killjoys, led by the one-and-only Party Poison! Nice name, eh? Came up with it myself.” he says, eyes narrowed evilly while he grinned.

Author's Note

Typo check, the normal thing.