Danger Days--Part 29

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Danger Days--Part 29

We actually get along for the next couple of days, Show and Jen aren’t fighting anymore now that we have the radio to entertain us, but after I heard that MCR song, I had Jen dig out the CDs from the back and we’ve been listening to those. Another reason they haven’t killed each other is that Jen’s figured out how to be patient on the car rides, so we’ve actually made some good distance now without all the stopping. It’s also nice that Jen’s gotten better with driving, but she still has me pull the car over whenever we have to stop…yeah, she still has to work on slowing down.
“Alright, not that your CDs are bad or anything,” Show says as the sun’s peaking over the horizon in a misty sunrise, maybe a good ten days after I woke up. “But I really need to hear something other than those two artists,” he says moving to switch the radio back to the Killjoy station, “Besides, you kids can hear your gramps at work.”
“Fine,” I say, checking the gas gage, last time we stopped maybe two days ago, and we’re only down to half a tank, probably won’t have to stop for another day or two. “What kind of music does he play anyway?—and don’t be vague and say he plays the banned stuff,” I say looking over at him with a warning look.
“A lot of rock, both modern and classic, a few good 80’s songs, but never any of that crappy sugar-coated pop stuff,” he says waving his hands around in explanation, learned to know that he does that a lot when he explains things.
“Sounds like my kinda music,” I say as I turn the radio up louder to Queen’s ‘Under Pressure’. We listen to the rest of the song, which is followed after by some Motly Crew, then it cuts to the radio host.
“Look alive sunshine,” it sounds a little crackly due to bad signal, but the voice is oddly familiar. “1-o-9 in the sky but the pigs won’t quit/ you’re here with me, Dr. Death Defying/ I’ll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter / pumping out the slaughter-matic sounds to keep you alive/ a system failure for the masses/ empty matter for the master plan/ louder than God’s revolver and twice as shiny/ this one’s for all you rock’n’rollers/ all you crash queens and motor babies/ Listen up!”
“This here is your grandpa kids,” Show says just before the commentary goes on.
Then I realize that this is the same commentary that’s on the MCR CD, “The future is bulletproof/ the aftermath is secondary/ it’s time to do it now and do it loud/ Killjoys, make some noise!” Then grandpa’s words flow right into the My Chemical Romance song they’re originally a part of, but he adds something to let us know he’s actually on the radio, “This here my Killjoys is our very own My Chemical Romance’s ‘Na, Na, Na,’.”
I can’t really speak at first, it’s the first time I’ve heard Grandpa D since I was I little kid, and I had to hear him over a stupid radio.
“Specter, are you okay?” Jen whispers, I glance to my right and see Jen right next to me.
“Yeah I’m fine,” I say back, then I smile, “You want me to sing?”
“Yes!” she squeals jumping back into her seat.
“Alright,” I say starting to pick-up on the song.
So that’s how we pass the next couple of days, listening to the radio, singing to a lot of the music, getting familiar with Grandpa D’s radio personality, and stopping every now and again to pick up some food and fill up the tank. One time though, there were some Draculoids searching one of the gas stations we stopped at. Luckily we backed out before they spotted us. But there were only three so it didn’t take long to get rid of them, only bad part though was Show insisting that we drag their bodies to the rocks out back. Jen and I kept arguing that we’d be scared beyond help if we did that, but then Show said that horse was already shot in the face considering we’d been living the rough Killjoy life for awhile now. So finally I told Jen to wait in the car while Show and I dragged the cadavers out the back door, where she wouldn’t see us. Other than that little mishap, we got all the way back to the middle of Zone 4, on the Killjoy side, without a hitch.
“Well at this rate we should be at the station in another two or three days,” Show says as we pull out from our most recent stop at an old abandoned diner, which is a little bit barren—even for a Killjoy stop.
“Doesn’t sound too bad,” I say as I turn the car out to the right, heading south. “So does that mean we’ll be outta Zone 4 soon, or is Grandpa D’s station just really close to the Zone boarder?” I say getting the car up to a decent 70 mph cruise.
“First one,” Show replies, “Alright artist or song?” he asks, starting up the music game we developed about a week ago.
Someone asks you if you want to guess the song or the artist, and you have to guess which ever one you chose with the snippet of lyrics you’re given. It’s also optional if you want to give the name of the category you didn’t chose, won’t boost your points or anything, except if you’re in the final round and you tie, then the first one to cover the open category gets the point.
“Song,” I say quickly, I’m way better at guessing song rather than artist, songs sometimes are sung by more than one artist or band as tributes or something along those lines, so I usually pick song unless Jen makes me go with artist.
“Well I woke up this morning/ on the wrong side of the bed/ and how I got to thinking/ about all those things you said—” Show doesn’t really sing the lyrics but more so speaks them in a rather monotone voice, like someone reading off a bad joke.
But I cut in before he can go on with his bad reciting, “‘Eat the Rich’ by Aerosmith.”
“Correct,” He sighs, I smile because he gets all sulky every time I interrupt him like that.
“Okay, now you, song or artist?” I say back looking out over the road.
“A car!” Jen shouts from the back.
“I don’t think you can pick that,” Show quips. I glare at him and look out the review mirror, and I see a car, but it’s not the plain black of a Drac car, it’s not even a car but really a big hulking van. It’s coming up fast to us for a van that size, but then again we’re only going at 70, and that things probably pushing 80 trying to catch up to us.
“Hey, I know who’s van that is!” Show says twisting in his seat to get a better look at the van. “Only Cherri would drive the most insensible vehicle in the tackiest shade of blue out in these Zones,” he says laughing, laughing, that’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh since we’ve met him.
“That’s Cherri Cola’s car?” Jen says a little skeptical that any Killjoy would be driving a car with such low speed and aerodynamics.
“Yes, she picks her cars based on how much of her stuff they can carry, trust me she needs a moving van to move all her equipment from hideout to hideout,” Show remarks. “She probably doesn’t even realize that this is Soul’s car yet,” he says to himself, probably grinning to himself too.
“Well this car hasn’t been seen around the Zones for quite awhile has it?” I say looking back to the van struggling to catch up to us.
“Oh yeah,” Show remarks, “Hey pull back some, there’s no way that hunk-a-junk is gonna catch up to us.”
“Fine, but if that’s some Drac driving undercover, I’m gonna be ticked,” I say as I take off the cruise. After I’ve turned off the cruise, I ease up on the gas, slowing down and giving the van a chance to catch up to us. When we’re just ahead of the van, Jen looks back and tries to see through the windows of the van.
“Well it’s definitely no Draculoid,” Jen says, “It looks like a woman’s at the wheel, she’s wearing a black jacket and a pink helmet—”
“That’s Cherri, she never leaves her hideout without that pink helmet of hers,” Show cuts in.
“Like you never take your helmet off except to eat,” I retort laughing.
Show just gives me a nasty glare and turns to poke his head out the window, waving back to the driver with the pink helmet. I look back in the rearview mirror and see that she is definitely a Killjoy, no Draculoid would be smart enough or willing enough to dress like that for going undercover. When she sees Show stick out his head out the window, she looks a little shocked, but then she waves back, like she can’t believe that it’s actually him. Then she signals for us to pull over, Show nods back then brings his head back into the car.
“She says to—” Show starts to say before I cut him off.
“I know, I saw her, I’m pulling over,” I say as I start to slow the car down more and start pulling off to the left. The driver, who I’m assuming is Cherri Cola, follows behind us to park her car right behind ours.
Show gets out of the car first and the driver gets out of her van to meet him. She’s tall, and wearing black combat boots with black tie-dye jeans and a plain white T-shirt under her jacket, and of course there’s her pink biker helmet. Cherri’s also wearing ray bans and some of her hair’s sticking out from under the helmet, that’s when I notice that it’s blonde.
She meets Show by the back of the car and starts talking to him, pretty loud actually, and since the car doesn’t have any real windows, Jen and I can her loud and clear.
“Show, what the hell are you doing in this car?! I haven’t seen Soul’s Trans on these roads since she…” Cherri’s rants off, but she can’t really bring herself to say those last words, I guess she and my mom were close.
“Listen, Cherri—” Show says calmly, trying to get Cherri to listen to him.
“And I saw you in the passenger’s seat too,” Cherri cuts in before he can explain. “Who is driving that car, Dr. D said no one was suppose to go looking for that thing, he said he left for Soul to find if she ever came back, and obviously that’s not Soul ‘cause she would have stepped out by now!”
“Alright I’ve had enough of this,” I say to Jen as I unbuckle myself.
“What’re you gonna do Specter?” Jen whispers nervously, getting a little scared of Cherri most likely.
“Get Cherri to shut up,” I say standing up in the seat. When my head comes into view, Cherri looks up at me in awe, not believing that she’s seeing a kid dressed up like a Killjoy. That’s when I say something, “Sorry to interrupt, but I really think you should give Show a chance to explain all this Cherri.” When I finish I give her my most innocent grin, which is when Jen pops up her head from the backseat.
“Hi, I’m Dune Hunter!” she says sweetly, flashing her cutest smile, “Are you Cherri Cola? Are mom told us about you in her letter.”
Cherri can’t do anything but let her jaw drop to the ground, I gotta admit I got a bit of a laugh outta that.

Part 30: http://www.mychemicalromance.com/blog/zone-specter/danger-days-part-30