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Nile was running.
She ran fast, and she ran hard. Pushing past the people at the edge of town, she threw a glance over her shoulder to try and spot the draculoids that had been chasing her down. For a moment, no such luck (though, perhaps it would have been luck to not see them), but sure as shit, they round the corner fifteen paces behind her.
Losing these fuckers was proving to be the most interesting part of her day.
“I’m not going back!” she shouted as she shoved her elbow into a vending machine.
The glass shattered onto her thick sleeve, and she pushed her hand inside to pull out a blaster and take her aim. The blood from her knuckles was already starting to stain the white of the gun, but it did not hold her attention for long enough to distract her. No, she fired two shots at the dracs that were chasing her, watching one beam skim over a shoulder while the other beam planted itself into the draculoid’s skull.
She kept the gun when she turned on her heels and continued to bolt.
She had served in Analog Wars, taking after her father who had served in the Helium Wars. She was lucky to come back intact, and look at her now! Reduced to being chased by dracs because she refused to work for Better Living and that sleazebag Merrick. God, just looking at him made her skin crawl, and when he’d put his hand on her back and his thin lips twisted into a cruel smile to ask her “please,” Battery City had lost every redeeming quality it had once had.
Tailing it around a building, she was recognizing the shadow that covered the slums of the city as the wall that separated the inside from the outside.
She stopped in front of a storm grate, glancing back to the road that would have draculoids pouring through it at any minute. Outside meant dealing with killjoys, the same people she had spent her service trying to kill. It meant never knowing when another good meal was going to greet her, when she would see her brother again, when she would be able to sleep through the night without worrying for her safety.
But that sounded better than the brainwashing corporate shit that they would force her into here. Then being forced into a job that’d work her blind and dead, where the only source of joy would be a twice-weekly visit to see a pornodroid and her “work friends” would be reduced to people she could stand being in the same space with.
Nile jumped towards the grate, heaving it open and beginning to run once more towards the light at the end of the tunnel.
Outside, it was bright.
Brighter than Battery City, at least, even if the sun was beginning to set.
She had to stop once she was standing in the desert, looking around at her surroundings and trying to take it all in. The air was clear out here, and while it was significantly warmer, it was bearable.
Footsteps echoing behind Nile reminded her she needed to get moving again.
Taking the steps out towards the wide-open highway that was near the grate, Nile began to follow it away from the city. God only knew where it would take her.
—
“We’ve got a new one,” Booker told them, pulling away from the piece of junk he usually attempted to operate. Even though it looked next to useless, it did manage to keep tabs on Bat City cams like a dream.
Andy’s eyebrow raised. “What’s he lookin’ like?”
“She,” Booker corrected, “looks like she escaped the city in a bloody mess. Dracs got off her tail an hour ago. Following Route Guano now.”
Nicky’s fingers tapped the table he was sitting at, lips tilted downwards into a frown. “Well, can we help her?”
“If she’s still in Zone One–”
“She’s trying to escape the city, no?” Nicky inquired, glancing at Joe across the table from him. Joe nodded, though remained silent while Nicky continued. “If she killed dracs, I think we can trust her. Who else is going to help?”
“We can’t afford another mouth to feed,” Andy replied simply, glancing out the window towards the darkening skies.
Nicky scoffed. “She’s probably confused, especially if she’s just left for the first time. Do you remember what it was like when you first came out to the Zones?”
“...I do.”
“Then you remember how terrifying it was, your first night alone.”
Andy shook her head and bit her lip. She spent a minute pondering, thinking over the situation before she swore and turned to pick up the car keys. “Book, let’s go. Joe, Nicky, hold down the fort. See if we have any extra bedrolls. Fuck. Doctor D better still be broadcasting, I need music.”
—
Sunset turned to night quickly, and it was dark out in the Zones. The draculoids stopped after what she thought was a quarter mile, and she could slow to a walk as she continued to follow the road. At one point, she had to stop and look up at the night sky–it was beautiful, she had to admit. She hadn’t seen stars like that since...well, maybe ever.
She was dead on her feet by the time she reached the sign that told her she’d made it to Zone Two. Somehow, it wasn’t reassuring.
Part of her was tempted to get off the road, find a place to spend the night. Yet, on the other hand, something about that just sounded wrong. The creatures that lurked in the desert in the night were things to be afraid of, and definitely reason for her to hold her gun a little tighter.
Perhaps, even more reason to do so, was when she could hear the faint sounds of an engine in the distance. It was darker than her eyes were used to, but if she squinted, she was sure she could see something beginning to get close…
Nile ducked off of the road, pulling the hand with her gun to her chest but finding that it still hurt. She swore internally, looking down at the bloody mess (albeit dried) and picking out a single piece of glass. It wasn’t the only one, she knew, but she didn’t have the time or the light resources to look and pry out each individual shard. Especially not when the engine just kept getting closer.
Nile’s spot was behind a Joshua tree, somewhat in a ditch a few feet off the side of the road.
The headlights turned on, a bright light that made her want to squint even if she wasn’t looking directly at it. Her heart was pounding in her throat as the car audibly slowed down, beginning to roll along just in her peripheral.
The voice that was coming from the car was quiet, but when Nile shot the glance over, she could see it was a blond man with a bandana pulled down to his neck. He must’ve been wearing it like a mask before.
“Hello? Kid? Are you out here?”
Kid? Me?
Nile could suppose she looked young, but kid was a bit of an exaggeration.
The voice continued to quietly call, even as it continued along the road. Nile couldn’t force her limbs to move, but even if she could have, she didn’t think it would be a smart idea to run where it was so flat.
The car continued forward, but Nile wasn’t convinced that she was in the clear. If they were looking behind, she’d be an easy target to spot, and who knew what their intentions were.
Nile had waited what she imagined was twenty minutes before she was shifting to get into a different position behind the tree when the headlights beamed up again. Except, while granted they were on the other side of the road, still illuminated her in perfect light.
She was to her feet almost instantly, backing towards the empty desert behind her. The man from before appeared out of the shotgun window, hanging onto the top of the car with his hand outreached towards her.
“Hey-! Hey, we’re not trying to hurt you, we’re trying to help you,” he promised.
Sounded like a fake promise to Nile.
The driver’s door opened, and a woman in all black appeared. Nile could get a good glimpse of her thanks to the headlights–the woman was tall, looking to have already washed off face paint for the evening. The jacket that she pulled on, however, was intensely colorful, and she slipped a painted blaster into the holster at her thigh.
She began to approach slowly, but for every step she took forward, Nile took one back.
“Kid, we’re just trying to help you. Maybe Book’s not the one to tell you, but I can assure you, that–”
Nile raised the gun and took a shot for the woman. “I’m sorry, I just don’t trust you.”
Except the shot missed . As soon as Nile had raised the gun, the woman was moving quickly and fluidly, an elegant pattern that dodged the beam almost perfectly. The woman’s draw was quick, her finger flicking the settings on the gun as she aimed for Nile’s head.
“I’m Scythia,” she told Nile, “and I like you already.”
The beam smacked into Nile’s forehead, and the already dark night faded completely into black.
—
When Nile woke up, she was still on the ground, except there was a roof over her head now. A dinghy roof at that, but still a roof. Pushing herself upright, she winced initially at the feeling of pins and needles in her hand, but looking down at it, she was surprised to see that the shard-ridden hand was now bandaged up completely.
A small pile of clothes was seemingly waiting for her next to the door, but her gun was nowhere in sight.
Yet, as she stood, she could take in more of the room. It was low-light, but she could still make out everything that was there, save for the nitty gritty details. Several other bedrolls were laid out, though none of them were inhabited, but the walls were coated in paint. Nile approached the closest one to get a better look. It was a mix of styles, recognizably graffiti mixed with something more classically beautiful. Nile hadn’t seen art in years –last time she’d had to study it, it was for sake of identifying different kinds of graffiti to be able to pinpoint what Killjoy groups had been in the area. But this? This was different, and it was beautiful.
She went to another wall to see if it was the same, only to find that it was the same sort of mesh of styles. It...had to be more than one artist. Maybe the graffiti came after? No, some of the traditional is still lying over it...no, this was a collaboration. What the hell?
The door creaked open and Nile jumped in her skin, preparing herself to fight if needed with her fists held out in front of her.
The woman from earlier was back, and she shut the door behind her. In the dim light, Nile could see her features a bit more clearly; her hair was cropped short and dark, her face sharp and her eyes a steely blue-gray. Her frame was rectangular, but Nile could tell she had muscle on her bones.
“I thought you’d be awake by now,” Scythia, Nile supposed, remarked. “I know you’ve gotta have questions.”
“Yeah. Like, why the hell did you shoot me?” Nile snapped, not relaxing her stance at all, just waiting for Scythia to get closer so she could clock her in the nose. “Where even am I? Why did you fucking kidnap me?”
Scythia shook her head. “I told you, we’re trying to help,” she said calmly. “As in, make sure you don’t get ghosted by ‘crows before the sun comes up tomorrow morning. You’re free to leave us after tonight if you like, but you’re on your own after that, and good luck learning the Zones without a mentor.”
“Oh, right, because you’d be great at that.”
Scythia scoffed. “I was the first, so I like to think I would be great at that. I remember the Helium Wars, kid, I was there for them. I fought in the Analog Wars and watched my friends die. Those sons of bitches in there? They’re all I have left, and I like to think I’ve taught them how to handle themselves pretty damn well.”
Nile blinked once. Twice. Then stepped back. “There’s no way you were the first…”
“There’s always a need for revolution, kid. Sometimes you just gotta be the first brick thrown.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“What?”
“Kid. I’m not a kid. I served in the Analog Wars, too.”
Scythia’s face went blank, her lip prepared to curl back into a snarl that didn’t come. “Then what’s your name?”
“Nile.”
“You’ll need a new name. BLI holds more power over you if they know your real name.”
Nile laughed quietly. “Oh, sure, right. What are they going to do if they know it?”
“Kill whatever family you have left.”
Nile’s smile fell instantly.
“I thought so,” Scythia remarked. “Now, are you going to stay for the night, or are you going to go? I won’t stop you if you want to go.”
She hated the situation. She hated it with every fiber of her being, but she didn’t have it in her to argue against care for the night. Maybe it would be sufferable–these people did bandage her hand, after all.
“Fine, I’ll stay. Just for tonight, though.”
Scythia points to the pile of clothes that had been left by the bedroll. “Those are for you. I suggest changing out of that shit soon.” A pause as Scythia stood by the door, preparing to close it on her way out. “You can call me Andy, if you like that better.”
Andy. Nile liked it marginally better, but she still hated it.
She put on the clothes as quickly as she could. They fit her surprisingly well, and once she’d checked that her hand was okay, she opened the door and poked her head out into the main room.
This was an old house, she gathered quickly. Something small and rundown, but a house nonetheless. More art covered the walls, but it was more organized out here. A wall of the traditional style, looking like a mural, whereas other walls had little bits of graffiti to cover up cracks and shit.
Nile stepped out to see three men sitting at a table, with Scythia–Andy sitting with them. She gestured for Nile to come over, pointing to a plate that had been presumably set out for her.
“You must be Nile,” one of them said. He was a man with darker skin and curled hair, a short beard (that had to be a bitch to clean out here) looking to be the product of a couple of days without shaving rather than something intentional. “Andy said you tried to shoot her.”
“...I did, yeah.”
He actually laughed. It was warm and inviting, not patronizing like Nile had initially thought it would be.
“I like you already, Nile,” he remarked. “I’m Yusuf, but you can call me Joe if you like.”
Her eyebrows furrowed together for a moment. “...which do you prefer?”
“Joe’s fine.”
“Okay. Joe.” Nile found the seat that had been designated for her and sat down, her shoulders still tense as she poked a little at the plate that had been set out. She didn’t eat at first, and instead looked to the man across from Joe. “Were you the one with Andy who came to get me?”
A faint smile crossed his lips, but he shook his head. “No, that was Booker,” he told her, gesturing to the other white guy next to him. As soon as he spoke, Nile knew it definitely wasn’t the same guy–no, this one definitely had a strong accent. “I’m Nicky.”
“Nicky,” Nile repeated, trying to stick that name to that face as quickly as possible. “Got it.”
Nicky seemed to be slim-built with broad shoulders, his hair short and his eyes similar to Andy's. His jaw seemed to carry a lot of tension. Booker was clearly tall and beefy, his hair slicked back but a piece had fallen into his eyes. She wondered if he would look any better cleaned up.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Nicky continued, already seemingly the chatty one even if his voice was low and mellow, “why did you come out to the Zones? Now of all times?”
Nile paused, her eyebrows furrowing together as she thought it over and put down her fork. “I...was being recruited by BLI. I served in the Analog Wars–” Andy visibly stiffened, and Joe notably gave her a look that she nodded at, “–and they were hoping to get me to come in and run a defensive division or work as an exterminator. I didn’t really like the company, and the main guy hiring me was giving me the worst sort of vibes. I mean, sleazy and creepy to the umpteenth degree, and I...I mean, I knew I could either work there and be miserable or leave. I couldn’t stay in Battery City without working with them, and that just...sounded awful, I guess. God, I really just left, didn’t I?”
The last part was definitely more to herself, but Nicky still nodded.
Surprisingly, he didn’t chastise her when he spoke again. “If it makes you feel better, that is how it would’ve gone. You would have been given pills and treatment to ensure you wanted to work for them.”
Nile swallowed hard, though she couldn’t look away from him.
“Breaking out after that is hard. Doable, but...hard.”
“Taking lives isn’t easy, either,” Booker mumbled into a flask.
Nicky gave him a nudge, seemingly playful, then shrugged. “You made a good choice, Nile. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
Nile looked back to her plate and poked at it again. As she became more awake, she quickly realized she was hungry, and ultimately her hunger trumped out her distrust of these people. The food was the worst kind of consistency, but it had some flavor.
"Which one of you is the artist?" Nile asked, rather abruptly, but she felt it was a safe topic. "Or...artists, I suppose. Assuming you guys did the stuff in there."
She wasn't sure why she was surprised when Joe answered. "Booker and I...get bored, sometimes. When we can find paint, it's a nice pastime." Joe smiled a bit, then shook his head. "He also does a lot of the art on the guns, I did our jackets."
Nile hadn't gotten to see Andy's jacket, but she kind of wished she had. "It's really good," she assured him, cracking a little smile that didn't quite feel real.
"If you'd like, I could make something for you," Joe offered. "Of course, you can say no, but if you'd like."
She was a little taken aback, there was no lie there. "Oh! Uhm, I mean, sure, if..." She trailed off. If I stay. She really didn't think she was going to stay, but then again, these people weren't so bad, and they did seem to be somewhat kind at face value.
“Do you think you’ll stay here, or go elsewhere?” Booker asked her, even if he didn’t make eye contact. Strange, but he seemed to catch her drift.
“I don’t exactly have a plan yet. I mean, I left the city...probably five hours ago, I don’t know how long I’ve been here.” Nile shook her head. “ Fuck. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Andy grinned, leaning back in her chair. “Welcome to being a Killjoy. None of us know what the fuck we’re doing.”
Strangely enough, Nile could get behind that.