(Just to explain, since the little girl travelling with the killjoys is unnamed, or simply known as "little girl", I have decided therefore to refer to her as Grace, since I cannot imagine her as being called anything else. Please enjoy!)

Chapter One: Keep Running

"Just run sweetheart, run and don't ever look back." The woman told her daughter, staring into her soft blue eyes lovingly. The sadness in the older woman's eyes was overbearing, tears spilling from them uncontrollably.

"I love you, Mom…" Grace whispered, pulling her mother closer to her embrace. Tears we sliding down both of their cheeks, and the mother pulled her daughters' head forwards to kiss her softly.

There was a crash nearby that made them both jump, and the round of both feminine and masculine screams and shrieks that followed only forced the mother to urge her daughter to leave.

"I love you too darling. Now run, Grace. Please, just go." She kissed her daughter again, before lifting her to the broken window; the only escape out of the basement that they were hiding in. BLI would soon be upon them, and the tiny broken window was the only hope or escape.

Grace gave a small sob as she was pushed through the window, the sharp shards of the broken glass tugging at her skin, leaving bloody cuts. When she was through, she turned to clutch her mothers' hand desperately, without so much as a glance to check if the coast was clear for Draculoids, or worse.

"Come on, you can still make it!" Grace pleaded, giving her mothers hand a tug. Although tears were cascading down her cheeks, she gave her daughter a courageous smile and pulled her hand away.

"It's too late for me now baby. Save yourself, I'll hold them back." Her voice broke mid-sentence.

Grace shook her head desperately. It was a lot for a mother to expect their child to just run off and leave them to die, but Grace had grown up a rebel. Sacrifice and loss were things that had to be accepted in order to survive, but Grace didn't care about the corporation, or the fact that at that moment, she was knelt in the sand outside a rebel's house while Draculoids were forcing their way inside it. She didn't even care that one of them could creep up behind her right now, and kill her where she knelt.

"Please, I don't want to leave you…" She begged, "You can still fit through if you just-"

Her desperate attempt to convince her mother to clamber through the window were cut short as there was a deafening bang on the door to the dimly lit basement, shaking the room and causing dust to fall from above them.

"Now, Grace, you've got to go!" Her mother whispered desperately. Despite the fear, which was continuously building in her eyes, she gave her a comforting smile.

"Mom…" Grace sobbed in response. Her heart was telling her to stay, but her head was screaming at her to run.

And for once, despite what every single cell in her little body was screaming at her to do, Grace knew that her head was right. There was nothing she could do now, it was just the way the rebel's had learned to live; sacrifice. If someone was left behind, the instructions were to always run. Rebels couldn't afford to lose more of their kind in rescue missions. It was harsh and cruel, but that simply how things were. Rebels were growing increasingly scarce, and lives could not just be thrown away in suicide missions to save fallen rebels. Everyone hated it and it was unfair, but exposing what was really going on was a bigger issue. Of course, the rebels were just the ones who supported the killjoys. Killjoys were the ones who were supposed to sacrifice their lives for each other, not their supporters. They lived by their slogan, even to the end: "The aftermath is secondary."

"Go," Her mother urged her, and Grace did move away a little, staggering backwards.

"I love you." Grace whispered again, her heart breaking as she took another step backwards and away from the building.

"Keep running."

Those were the last words that Grace ever heard her mother speak.

Grace had kept running, just as her mother had said. Running and running. For hours… maybe even for days; it certainly felt like it.

She didn't even stop running as exhaustion finally gripped her and she collapsed on the floor. Somewhere inside her little body, she found the strength to get up and keep going.

Grace had been out in the desert for two days before The Killjoys found her, who took her in. From then on, Grace had been one of them; a killjoy. Grace remembered hearing about the infamous rebel killjoys that Better Living Industries were so keen on stopping, and for once, the rumours of their manic adventures against BLI were actually as good as the real thing. She adored them all, and they adored her in turn, but of course, caring for someone always meant that they were a weakness.

TWO YEARS LATER

The Killjoys were out where they always were: in the zones.

Grace twirled her fingers in her mass of frizzy brown hair, mindlessly wondering what the events of the day would hold. She leant against their beloved vehicle, tracing patterns in the sand with her fingers.

Kobra Kid was snoring heavily inside the Trans Am, along with Fun Ghoul, who was always a quiet sleeper. They killjoys took sleep shifts to keep watch over night, and it was Ghoul and Kobra's turn to get some sleep. Party Poison and Jet Star were trying to catch Dr Death Defying's signal on their radio, but the high-pitched whirring of the static left little hope that he was transmitting at the current time. With a resigned sigh, Party Poison flicked off the radio, leaving Jet Star to make breakfast: a tin can of baked beans that they had stolen on their way past an old grocery store. It was bland and boring, but it was the only food they had left. Party Poison knew he would have to go on another dangerous mission to get more food for the five of them. A tin of baked beans between them was a pathetic excuse for breakfast, but still, they had grown to learn that food and water were often scarce, and were used to living without both for many hours at a time.

The redheaded leader sat down next to the small girl, giving her a comforting nudge.

"Alright, Gracie?" He asked playfully, flashing an infectious smile that Grace mirrored.

"Just wondered what we'll be doing today, Party." She replied, smiling.

"Well, me and Fun Ghoul are gonna go and get some more food and water for us to drink, and then we'll be back out here in the zones, killing off more and more Dracs and Scarecrows when they come chasing after us, like we always do." He gave her a reassuring smile. He did patronise her an awful lot, but he couldn't help it. In the two years he had known her, she had grown up so much, yet he still treated her like the little eight year old he had picked up in the deserts' sand. It was hard to believe she was already ten years old.

Party Poison was the closest to Grace out of the other three killjoys. He wondered if it was because she reminded him of himself when he was that age: her determination, her energy, and her desire to stand up for what she believed in; he could relate to her so much. Whatever the reason, Grace seemed to confide in him more. He fondly recalled his childhood years, when there was no Better Living Industries, and the only deserts were far away.

The whole Earth was a desert now, and only the killjoys were always out in the desert.

Grace had even told him the story of how she had came to the Killjoys and about how her mother had sacrificed herself for her daughter – a story she had not shared with the others.

Party Poison had given Grace a hopeful smile when he had heard the story and a tight hug. He told her that her mother would be all right, and that BLI didn't like to kill innocent people. In truth, they didn't, they just preferred to keep them drugged up so they didn't feel anything anymore, but the leader of the killjoys knew the truth. Grace's mother was probably dead. In letting Grace escape, Grace's mother would have automatically signed her own death warrant. Not only was she a rebel; but also she had deliberately gone against the company by forcing her daughter to escape. Party Poison had since found out that her mother was passing information to Dr. Death Defying about Better Living Industries. According to him, the Draculoids had planned to take Grace and use her as a bargaining chip to ensure that her mother came quietly. Obviously, things did not work out how they had planned.

It wasn't often that Better Living Industries were denied what they wanted by rebels, and on the odd occasion that it happened, the corporation soon ensured that the rebels held responsible were "taken care of." This either meant that they were executed, or drugged up like BLI's corporate clones so that they would never put a toe out of line again.

Drugs.

Everyone seemed to be on Better Living Industry's drugs these days. The Draculoids were pumped full of them, giving them seemingly limitless energy. Of course, becoming a BLI representative was all very well, apart from the side affect: those who signed up for the job were 'upgraded' before they could start. This meant one thing; being 'reprogrammed'; the drones were nothing more than empty shells. Like robots, they could only follow orders; they were mindless. BLI kept their followers in check with their daily mind-controlling-hypnotic videos that brainwashed their robots. The rebels for a single reason knew the BLI operatives as Draculoids; because once they'd had the life and soul sucked from them, they captured every rebel they could find, so that the same could be done to them. The company would brainwash the victim, with its' mind controlling drugs or the hypnotic video's, there was always some way to keep their civilians in order. Of course, the corporation never advertised that in their advertising campaigns; "we can fix you", "building a better you", "everything is perfect" "love is a pill", their advertisements were just lies, lies, and more lies, attempting to turn sceptics into believers, and to lure out the killjoys and their supports.

The killjoys despised the propaganda that was everywhere these days. The spokeswoman for the Industry was well known among the killjoys, and it was often said that she was the leader of BLI herself. The killjoys simply called her 'NewsAGoGo", they thought it fitting since they saw her face everywhere. Then, the exterminators were another big problem for them. Deadly and ruthless, they all had their specialties. Most of them were not to be feared, for there was only one in charge of catching the Killjoys, who also had an army of disposable Dracs at his command: Korse. The bald headed maniac was the stuff nightmares were made of. His task to catch the killjoys seemed to dominate his life. Korse was the one who was responsible for their 'Wanted' posters in every city and town they ransacked. The Towner's there were all under BLI's drug induced spell; they couldn't see the truth from lies anymore.

Still, that was the killjoys were all about. Not everything was perfect like Better Living Industries had said it was. The drugged up civilians were blind to what the company was really trying to do. The killjoys were the survivalists, the ones trying to bring the truth, no matter how bad it was, thus destroying the notion that everything was perfect, as BLI portrayed it to be.

Once the Killjoys brought down Better Living Industries, Korse, NewsAGoGo and every single Draculoid-scum that dared to exist, they would be free. While they wouldn't live in a perfect world, at least they would live in a world that they were allowed to feel.

Fun Ghoul and Kobra Kid surfaced from their slumber soon enough, rising just in time for their miniscule portion of the beans.

"Ghoul," Party Poison spoke after wolfing down his pathetic excuse for breakfast, "Me and you have gotta make a food run today. We've got nothing left." He tossed the empty can he had been eating from aside, after making sure he'd gotten everything he could from it.

Fun Ghoul threw him a sarcastic look and raised his eyebrow in mock surprise.

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed!" He held up the empty container in his hands, which a few seconds ago had held the beans; there was not a scrap left. In fact, the thing looked clean.

"Alright, alright." Party Poison grumbled, turning to Jet Star and Kobra Kid commandingly. "You two can watch Gracie while we're in and out of there, right?"

The pair nodded, as the redheaded leader threw the child a comforting smile.

"You can drive, Jet. It'll make it quicker. Any trouble while you're outside, loop around and come back when the coast is clear." Party Poison continued, pacing slightly.

"We know, man." Jet Star responded calmly.

"Good, we'd better go now then…" Party Poison looked up at the sun in the sky, squinting as the harsh light pained his eyes. "I think if we get going now, we'll be clear of the place before midday. We don't want to be out in the midday sun if we can help it."

"That's when the sun is at its' hottest, isn't it?" Grace piped up knowledgably, pride in her eyes.

"That's right, Gracie." The youngest killjoy; Kobra Kid, tapped her nose fondly, giving her a smile. She beamed back at him.

At that, their leader began to pack up their belongings, taking care not to leave anything behind. It was important to cover their tracks; even leaving litter in the deserts sand could aid Korse in his never-ending quest to hunt them down.

The leader picked up the discarded rubbish, tossing it into a small plastic bag. They would have to dump it in a 'Better Living town' to avoid arousing the suspicion of those who lived there. That was what they called the towns where the inhabitants were pumped full of mind controlling drugs. It would be risky for them to go there, but of course, that was where the Killjoys were already headed. If they wanted food and water it was the only place they could go.

After the corporation had figured out the killjoys were using old houses, stores, and other facilities to harness their food and water, they had cut off all the water, and sent Draculoids to raid every home, taking all of the food they could find with them. They had even started removing their vending machines from the deserts to stop killjoys hacking into them. Anyone found living in the old houses was assumed a rebel, and more often than not, was taken back to the heart of Battery City and into the doors of Better Living Industries Incorporated - most of them didn't last long enough to walk back out of those doors.

So, naturally, the killjoys had to resort to other means of getting their basic needs: walking into a town full of people who would turn them in if they saw them.

It wasn't going to be easy.

Not only would getting inside without being noticed be difficult, they were likely to run into a Scarecrow or a few Dracs. The Scarecrows were much like the Draculoids, except they were higher standing. Some acted as the police, patrolling the edges of the Zones; mainly those closer to the outskirts of the cities - they had been deployed there after Korse had cut off all food and water to the killjoys, to stop the band of rebels from getting their essentials. Most Scarecrows were sat on their backsides all day inside the 'Scarecrow Unit', patrolling Battery City on their cameras – it wasn't like the civilians would do anything wrong. No, they were watching for rebels and killjoys, but obviously, unless that person had a death wish, no killjoy would walk into the heart of Battery City towards Better Living Industries.

"Being a Scarecrow must be the easiest job in the world." Party Poison muttered grimly as he stashed the rest of their belongings into their Trans Am.

The rest followed him shortly, clambering into their favoured vehicle. Party Poison and Fun Ghoul were poised along the right side of the car, so that they could hop out and allow the others to drive away quickly. They would stay in touch using their Communicators, and thus, would be able to alert each other to the situation.

Jet Star drove the Trans Am, speeding through the deserts sand in silence. While the pair on the mission readied themselves, Kobra Kid, Grace and Jet Star were exchanging worried looks.

"Can't we all go?" Grace asked through the quiet, looking hopefully at their leader.

"'Fraid not, Gracie. Party and me are gonna take this one. I guess someone has to be there to save his ass." He shot Party a playful wink and smiled at Grace, who didn't look convinced.

"Okay, who's gonna be there to save you?" She looked seriously at Ghoul, who rolled his eyes dramatically.

"I don't need someone to watch my ass. I can take care of myself."

At which, Party Poison seized the moment. He pulled his Communicator off the attachment on his belt, swung his arm around and felt the plastic device smack against Ghoul's skull, who swore loudly at the blow, rubbing the tender spot with his hand.

The car was soon filled with pleasant laughter, which even Ghoul joined, despite the fact that he was the butt of the joke.

"Alright, alright. I get it, I need you too, Poison." He chortled after the laughter died down.

"Mmhmm, that's what I thought." The leader muttered approvingly, smiling a smug little smile.

"Guys, we're reaching the edge of Zone Four, the nearest town is only a few more miles." Jet Star reported seriously, his eyes darting around the horizon for threats.

The car fell into silence for the rest of the journey, with only the wind whipping over their heads making noise, and it wasn't until the killjoys reached the tiny town that anyone spoke at all.

"Alright, we'll see you guys soon. Remember to loop arou-" Party Poison was cut off mid-sentence.

"We know, dude. Just get going before I push you out." Kobra Kid gave him a smile, peering out at their leader through the top of his sunglasses with his head lowered.

Then the vehicle fell silent again, all they all noticed the same thing: nothing. The town was too quiet. There was no one outside, or no sign of life at all. In fact, it didn't even look like this was a Better Living town. There were no Dracs, no civvies, and no signs of life at all.

"Jet, you sure we're in the right place?" Grace looked around as they passed the border of the town, the anxiety showing clearly on her face.

The others were all inwardly pleased that they were not the only ones to have noticed.

"Certain." He replied, reaching up to remove his sunglasses from his eyes. His driving had slowed considerably, almost to the point of not moving.

Fun Ghoul nodded with determination.

"Whatever. They're there somewhere. The towners' are probably getting their weekly update of drugs or something." He suggested, but Kobra Kid was the only one who acknowledged he had spoken at all.

Something was definitely fishy, but they had to do something. Party Poison caught Ghoul's stare, and nodded.

"Pull over, Jet, we've gotta at least try, otherwise we'll starve. This might just make it easier." Of course, he didn't believe what he had just said, but he at least had to pretend.

Their driver gave a small, resigned sigh. There was no point in arguing – he was the leader after all. He knew what was best. He pressed his foot against the brake, letting the car come to a stop. The town was eerily silent. It was also small; almost too small to be called a town. It was larger than other places they'd visited, but still, it looked more like a modern village than a town.

The two jumped from the car, darting into a dark alleyway immediately to avoid the scorching sunlight giving them away; after all, with the vibrant colours they wore, they weren't exactly hard to miss. Still, while wearing such eye-catching colours has its' risks, it was also like giving Better Living Industries an even bigger middle-finger. The killjoys were taunting them with it – the corporation still couldn't catch them, even when they stood against everything else.

The pair of rebels watched the others drive away, Grace waving from the top of the car. The two gave each other a nod, pulling their masks over their eyes.

"The aftermath is secondary." Party Poison repeated, taking a deep breath to brace himself. They both pulled their customised guns from their holsters, their fingers poised on the triggers.

Fun Ghoul eyed Poison nervously – it was unusual for their leader to look this terrified. Their job involved dangerous stunts on a daily basis, he had never shown any sign of fear before, why was now different?

"You okay?" He asked the redhead, his eyebrows rose with concern.

Party Poison's worried eyes met his, and he shook his head. "This is a trap or something, Ghoul. I just know it."

"You can't know that. Do I have to carry this thing?" Ghoul gave a groan as he slung the empty sack over his shoulder. They would fill it with whatever they could find when they found a source.

"What, you think all the towners just vanished? I'm not an idiot, and neither are you."

"Alright, so it's a bit quiet. This just makes it easier to get what we need and leave again."

"For someone so smart, you're so stupid at times." Party Poison shook his head, scooting along the wall, before poking his head out to check if the coast was clear.

"Pessimist…" Ghoul muttered. He was unable to tell if his friend had heard him, or was simply ignoring him, but either way, he did not react to it.

"Man," He looked around the dead town, his forehead creased with worry, "if this was a cartoon, there'd be tumbleweeds rolling around here somewhere."

Ghoul chuckled behind him, but his tone turned serious as he offered Poison a suggestion.

"Maybe they're all at some kind of mass meeting? You know, at Battery City? Probably NewsAGoGo is shoving more Better Living bullshit down their throats, or some shit like that. Who the fuck knows?"

"When has that ever happened before, Ghoul?" Poison snapped, turning to glare at him.

Fun Ghoul pretended not to notice his stare, and instead pointed to an old building across the street from them.

"Look, over there!"

His point forced Party Poisons' eyes to stare at the building across the street. Of course, it wasn't really a street, more like a dirt road. The building was what looked like some kind of food store. The glass windows gave the two a glimpse into the contents of the store – which was filled with BLI food products. Of course, they killjoys could only steal canned foods and bottled water, but that was all they needed to survive.

"Jackpot." Ghoul smirked proudly.

"I wouldn't be so sure…" Party Poison narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "I'll go first. If the coast is clear, I'll use the communicator. Stay here until you hear something. If you don't hear anything in ten minutes, call the others to pick you up. I'll meet you at another point if I make it out…"

"Look, if you're that worried, let me go in first?" Fun Ghoul offered, trying to show his confidence in the matter.

"Forget it!" Party Poison laughed a little, "You'll get lost or something!"

"It's a grocery store!" He grumbled in defence.

"Yeah, and you couldn't find your way out of a paper bag." He laughed again.

Before either of them could say another word, Party Poison dashed across the road. Ghoul saw him disappear into the store. He put his beloved ray gun into the holster on his belt, instead gripping his communicator. Fun Ghoul held it close to his face in preparation, breathing heavily, waiting for when the device would buzz, alerting Ghoul that Poison was trying to speak to him.

"I don't like this…" Kobra Kid admitted as he watched the town disappear in the wing mirror of the car.

"Me either, Kid, but we're not gonna last long without supplies. They know what they're doing. They'll be fine."

"Jet, you can't know that. You saw how quiet that place was. Poison was suspicious of it! I could tell from the look in his eyes…"

"Kid, calm down, alright? Party Poison knows what he's doing. If he was that scared, he wouldn't have gone through with it."

"He would have if he thought it was as good as we were gonna get…" Kobra grumbled from the back seat of the car. Grace shuffled over to comfort him, leaning against him. She hated it when Kobra Kid got nervous – it usually made everyone else worry too.

"Don't worry, Kobra." Grace gave him a soft smile, which she hoped looked genuine. "If I know Party Poison and Fun Ghoul, they're probably bickering about who has to go in first."

He nodded, "Yeah, you're probably right," but from the tone of his voice – it just sounded like he wanted Grace to be quiet. Grace let out a small sigh, leaning against her companion.

Jet Star didn't really know where he was driving. They were far enough away from the town now to be safe, since it was just a small spec on the horizon, but he didn't want to stop just yet.

Kobra Kid was right – Jet definitely felt that something was wrong now. Of course, it would most likely be Kobra's panic that had put him on edge, but still, being a Killjoy was a dangerous position. That sense of impending doom was looming ever closer, and Jet was beginning to worry. It had only been a few minutes, maybe now was the time to pull over and wait for the others to use their communicators to talk to them.

"I'm gonna pull over up here by that big rock, it'll give us some cover in case there's dracs around. We haven't seen any yet, which makes me wonder where the fuck they've gone. Hope they aren't having some kind of upgrade. That'd make life more difficult."

"Good idea, it's really hot today." Grace used her hand to cover her eyes as she looked up and the merciless sun, ignoring his comment about the Dracs. Jet Star shifted slightly to look at his blonde-haired companion in the mirror of the vehicle.

Kid nodded in agreement, catching his friends' gaze. A blank look passed between them, and Grace rested her head on Kid's chest.

"They'll be fine…" She repeated to herself softly.

Kobra Kid was pacing anxiously in front of Grace and Jet Star, his blonde head bowed low with a worried expression. He kept his right hand close to his face, almost tugging on his lower lip absent-mindedly. Kid was muttering to himself in a voice so low that Jet and Grace couldn't hear him. Not that they were paying attention.

"Mine has more volume though." Jet Star laughed and touched his frizzy mess of hair.

"Yeah, but it's only frizzy at the bottom, like a trapezium shape." Grace smiled mischievously, feeling exceptionally smart.

Jet Star grumbled, touching his hair in confusion, before rolling his eyes and chuckling. "We certainly taught you well Gracie." They were both leant against the side of their car, sitting in the dirt, quite content.

"Is it weird for a ten year old to know what a trapezium is?" She looked puzzled, a flicker of anxiety flashing across her face.

"I suppose not. After all, I guess anything is normal these days." Jet's smile seemed to fade a little then, as he thought back to the good times – before the fires of 2012, before Better Living Industries, before the whole fucking world had turned into a desert.

"Hey, Star," Grace nudged him, a smirk growing on her sweet face, "D'you know what this makes us?"

Jet Star shook his head.

"Afro-buddies." She smiled triumphantly, chuckling a little.

Jet joined in the merry laughter with her, whilst Kid found himself grinding his teeth angrily.

And then something happened that made them all freeze…

Jet Star's communicator was buzzing loudly on the holster on his belt, and a voice was screaming something through the static.

"Quick!" Kobra Kid cried, grabbing Stars arm and hoisting him to his feet in an instant. Jet did not react instantly, surprised by Kid's immediate action. He then proceeded to snatch the communicator from Jets belt, turning the dial on top of the device to turn up the volume to its' maximum. Grace sprang to her feet in horror also; leaving the three huddled around the thick, black and white device.

The voice was crackly and the signal was terrible, so much so that the three could only hear snippets of words. Panic shot through all three of them at the same time, and they soon found that their hearts were pounding furiously in their ears.

"Guys!" The voice screamed, so distorted by the lack of signal that it was hard to recognise it. Whatever was going on, on Poisons and Ghouls end of the line, it was certainly noisy. The bangs and crashes were deafening, meaning in addition to other factors, they would barely catch anything of what the person was saying.

"Part… right… whole store…" The voice cut out, and Kid took the opportunity to speak into the communicator.

"Party, Ghoul! Whoever that is, we can't hear you properly!" He yelled into the microphone, desperate for more information as to what the hell was going on.

"What?" Came the bellowed response of the unknown person.

"We can't hear you!" Grace yelled, quiet unexpectedly in response.

"It's Ghoul!" He screamed over the noise of another explosion in background. "We're in trouble… there's too… can't…off…Fuck! We…help…aw-" There was another round of noise that cut short their friend's speech.

The line went silent.

"Ghoul?" Jet Star's voice was almost pleading as he spoke into the microphone. Grace felt tears brimming in her eyes.

"Shit! So much smoke… POISON, LOOK OUT!"

The communicator went dead.

A blank look passed between all three of them. Neither of them needed to speak to know what they were doing. They were getting back in that vehicle and they would driving back to find out just exactly what had happened – if their friends were okay… or alive.

They jumped into the car wordlessly. Jet Star turned the key in the ignition, and the engine shuddered to life.

"Step on it, Jet." Kobra and Grace found themselves holding onto one another as tight as they could in the back seat.

Grace's heart was pounding furiously in her chest, and she kept her hand clamped firmly over her mouth to stop her sobs escaping. Tears were sliding down her cheeks, and she couldn't bare the thought of losing yet more parental figures to her.

Kid gave her a comforting squeeze as Jet slammed his foot down on the pedal, making the engine roar in protest.

The Trans Am sped along the desert, racing towards the town, but also, racing towards what they might find when they reached their dreaded destination.

(Please leave me a review. I don't care how long or short. I just really do appreciate them. Thank you!)