Part 1: Alabama

I hate to say it, but I’ve always been one of those people who’s haunted by guilt.

I sat on the edge of the 4th floor of the bombed out apartment building we’d been hiding out in for the past few years as the sun rose slowly over the wasted landscape of crumbling buildings and rubble. The side of the building facing the east had no wall, so I could let my feet dangle as I gazed on the eternally bright lights of Battery City becoming overwhelmed by the only thing brighter than them in our new world. Nowadays, only the sun outshone Battery City, seeing as how the rest of the world was either still flaming, turned into rubble, or sunken into the ocean.

I was usually up early, but not this early. The dreams that had been plaguing me recently were coming back more frequently, making sleep more and more unattainable. My mother’s voice still rang in my head. We’re going to play a game, honey. You hide in here and don’t make a sound. I’d sat in the bottom of the linen closet as she’d packed me in with towels and sheets, making me invisible. No matter what, don’t come out. Not even if Daddy or I call you. I could see through the slats in the closet as she’d opened the door to the men, who’d forced their way in and torn the house apart, loudly questioning my mother. She’d stayed calm, though I could plainly see when she’d packed me into the closet that she was terrified. I’d stayed quiet, barely daring to breathe, when the men in white suits came up to my mother and grabbed her by the arm, holding her still as a white suit had taken out a raygun and put it up to her temple. I’d seen those before in my father’s sock drawer, but was told not to touch them.

The man’s voice had dropped to almost a whisper as he said something to my mother, her squirming away from the man holding her. He said something threatening, causing my mother to stare him down before spitting right in his face. He recoiled but recovered quickly, pulling the trigger that changed my life. My mother collapsed to the ground, a stunned expression still on her face. The men in white suits hadn’t even reacted, just standing over her for a moment before dragging her body further into the house and continuing their search. It was almost an hour before they’d opened the linen closet and found me. I’d kicked and squirmed, tears running down my face as they dragged me out of the closet, past the body of my dead mother and out into the lawn. They’d been walking towards a car they’d had waiting, me in tow, when one collapsed, the other one right behind him. I’d wiggled out of their grasp and run away from them and back towards the house, when I realized it was burning, so hot it hurt my face. I was scooped up by someone else as I continued crying, my will to fight completely diminished. I’d looked up to see G.I. Geronimo, what I called him now, staring down at me as he’d hustled me away from the flaming house. I was tucked into his jacket to keep me warm, my white sundress not nearly enough outdoors.

We’re going to play a game. I ran through it in my head again and again as the sun rose, warming my face. Don’t make a sound.

“Hey.” My best friend, Disco Destroya, sat down next to me on the ledge, snapping me out of my terrifying daydream. He wiped away tears I hadn’t even realized were there, leaking out of my eyes. I breathed deeply, calming myself.

“Dreams again?” He asked softly, wiping my eyes. I merely nodded, not speaking for fear my voice would crack and wake the others. My gang slept behind me on mattresses, blankets, pieces of carpet, whatever we could find. I turned forward again, silently observing the sunrise as Disco’s presence calmed me. I was most self-destructive when I was alone.

We sat watching the rising sun for another few minutes before rising to wake the others. Disco knew about the dreams and my hatred of discussing them, as with most of my feelings. I was tough, a fortress of unmoving stone, not some soft, girly twat who needed to be cuddled and caressed. He was the only one who knew, however, and I knew I could talk to him if I needed to. I just convinced myself I didn’t need to.

I started the cooking fire we used every day as Disco opened a can of dog mush to eat with a loaf of stale bread we’d traded a neighboring gang for. I took out our prized skillet and flopped the bread-and-dog mush sandwiches Disco prepared into it. Frying them made them easier to down.

Once the smell of food drifted through the room, the rest of the gang began to stir. G.I. was up first, being the leader, and walked over to me, motioning for me to let him take over. I did so and stood to wake the others.

I walked over to the small mattress I shared with Mighty Mouse and Blastzone Babydoll, kneeling down to wake them when I noticed a pair of eyes staring at me from under the threadbare quilt. Babydoll then burst out of the covers, leaping at me. I acted terrified, as if she actually scared me, not needing words, considering Babydoll was deaf. We’d devised signs to help her communicate over the years, considering the explosion Mighty Mouse had found her after had also left her mute. She was only about six months old when we found her after a bomb went off nearby. In the early days, the Dracs had bombed the Zones continuously, trying to kill off as many as possible who wouldn’t conform. We lost most of the older gang members that way, except for G.I, our fearless leader.

I mimed eating to Babydoll, who nodded enthusiastically and skipped over to where G.I. was frying mush sandwiches. I then walked around the mattress to where Mighty Mouse slept, chewing her lips as usual.

“Mighty Mouse…” I sang softly, shaking her shoulder gently. “Time to get up…”

“Wha…” She blinked her eyes open to look at me, her dark, curly hair swirling around her pale face.

“Come on, kiddo, get up.” I rubbed her shoulder gently. She sat up and stretched, a huge yawn escaping her lips.

“Go eat, okay, we need to get moving soon.” She stood with me and wandered over to the smell of food as I moved on to the next mattress.

“Guys, get up.” I shook the twins roughly, knowing they could sleep through a hurricane should they want to. Lightning Laserstrike sat up to look at me first.

“Morning, Alabama.” He smiled sleepily at me, his long hair blocking most of his face. I pushed it out of the way as he sat up, rolling off the mattress towards the smell of food.

“I’m gonna chop all that hair off you one day.” I chuckled. And then I observed the still-sleeping form of his twin brother, Raging Radiohead.

“Get up, sleepy.” I kicked the mattress, eliciting a moan from the blob on the mattress.

“How about you come down here, beautiful?” Rage grabbed my wrist and pulled me down onto the mattress with him, engulfing me in a hug.

“Get off me before I kick your ass all the way to Zone 6.” I tried to shove him off me, but his grip was too tight.

“Get off her now, Rage, before I come over there and kick your ass all the way to Zone 6.” G.I. called from across the room. Everyone else started laughing as he finally released me, laying belly-up on his mattress.

“Ugh, you guys are no fun.” He yelped as I stepped on his stomach on my way over to the cooking fire. G.I. handed me a mush sandwich as I sat next to Disco around the fire, taking a sip of the crushed canteen we all shared. Drinking water was a precious resource in Zone 2 especially, since every other rain shower ended up with acid in it. Bathing could be done in that water, since the acid content out here was relatively low, but drinking it could kill you.

We ate quickly and split up, preparing for battle. We each had a white raygun, considering they littered the Zones still, as well as whatever else we could find.

“Mighty Mouse, come here.” I beckoned the girl to me. She was only 12, so I still held some sway over her.

“Yeah, Alabama?” I motioned for her to sit between my knees as I loosed her wild dark brown hair and began to rebraid it, tucking away all of her loose ends. I finished off by tying her precious pink cloth at the end, one of the few pieces of color she still had. Her old white dress was stained and torn, barely coming to an inch above her knees. We’d need to find her a new one soon, I noted.

I finished up and tapped her gently. “Go on, kiddo.” She got up and went over to Babydoll, straightening her dress and fixing her hair. I stood up and pushed up the sleeves of the leather jacket I’d found, pulling on my old combat boots and gently handling my Wolverine knives. I strapped the knife blades sewn into a leather strip to my hands, looking like the X-Men character’s girlfriend. I’d inherited them from an old gang member who’d died years ago, taking them off her body along with the shirt and jeans I wore now before the Dracs came for her. We needed all the resources we could find, never wasting anything.

Disco stashed the few things we kept here behind some loose bricks and leaned the mattresses against the wall over them, not risking anything being stolen. We had too few of anything for it to be stolen.

After surveying the place, G.I. nodded, satisfied. “Let’s scram.”