Part 6: Alabama

I sat on the mattresses we'd stacked around the campfire in the grocery store. It was about 11 pm Battery City time, but I wasn't tired. Disco and that girl, who’s name was apparently Solar Crash, (that’s how she introduced herself to Disco anyway, while sticking out her chest and making goo-goo eyes) had taken first watch from the rooftop of the store. We’d found stairs after that kid Toxic Arizona, the one with the green hair, left with Wasp and the little girls.

I was sitting on the mattresses we’d stacked in twos around the fire, staring at the flames in which we were burning old cardboard boxes we’d found, gently cleaning my Wolverine claws with a rag I’d grabbed, even though I hadn’t even fought with them. I’d thought about it when that little bimbo Solar had looped her arm through Disco’s, but I didn’t. The Hispanic kid who’d been speaking Spanish to Rage and Lightning, plus Rage and Lightning themselves were sleeping now so they could take the graveyard watch at around 2:30 am until sunrise. Every swipe of the cloth on the dull silver knives made me feel a little better, yet so much worse. My chest ached as I stared into the fire, still seeing G.I.’s battered and bloody face in my mind’s eye. It was all my fault. I’d killed him. Why couldn’t I have just listened, just once? Why hadn’t I’d stayed put, like he told me?

“Hey.” The kid with the eraser hair and blue bandanna around his neck sat down on the mattress next to me.

“Hi.” I looked at him sideways, the fire glinting off of his eyes before I turned back to my Wolverine claws. This kid took my claws and rag, setting down the claws and using the rag to wipe away tears I didn’t know were running down my face. I bit my lip and looked away, embarrassed.

“What’s wrong? Your fearless leader?” He smiled sadly at me.

“Yeah. He saved my life so many times, and I killed him.” A sob escaped my lips, my cheeks thoroughly soaked.

“Did you shoot him?” The guy asked.

“No.”

“Then you didn’t kill him. The jag-offs in white suits and masks did.” He rubbed my arm. “You can’t blame yourself like that.”

“But it was my idea. If I hadn’t needed to so the right thing-“

“If you hadn’t done the right thing, the Dracs would’ve got us all.” He cut me off. “This is not your fault. Don’t fool yourself into thinking it was.”

I paused for a moment, my tears starting to dry up. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“No problem, thrill-killer.” He rubbed my back as I turned back towards the fire.

“What’s your name?” I asked him. “I didn’t catch the whole thing.”

“Zebra Kiss, the one and only.” He grinned. “You?”

“Alabama Napalm.” I nodded.

“That’s a sick name.”

“Thank you.”

“Where’d you get the claws?”

“My Wolverine’s? I took them with my husband-beater and jacket off of a chickie who got ghosted a few years back in my gang. She wouldn’t have wanted them to go to waste. She loved these things far too much.” I ran a finger along the dull edge, which faced my hands so I wouldn’t cut myself.

“Nice.” The kid nodded. “You could probably actually get some newer, cleaner clothes over by the racks, if you wanted to. I guess it’s been awhile since you had anything clean, huh?” Zebra nodded

“I haven’t taken a shower since the last acid rain 2 weeks ago, and even that doesn’t do much.” I shrugged.

“Yikes. There’s one of those old-fashioned bathrooms like we all had back in the day and the water still works for some weird reason. They probably had a reservoir underground. You can go change and stuff, I’ll cover for you.” Zebra suggested, settling into the mattress, watching the fire.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” I stood slowly, tucking the rag I’d found in my back pocket for later, but then realizing there were 20 more on the shelf next to me and tossed it on the floor next to my claws. I started moving away from the fire, but stopped short. “Thanks, by the way.” I said to Zebra over my shoulder.

“Don’t mention it.” He replied, getting more comfortable in the mattress. I picked up one of the flashlights we’d found earlier along with tons of batteries and used it to light my way in the dark to the first real cleaning I’d had in years.

I used a soap dispenser older than dirt and a rag I found on a shelf to clean away the layers of blood and grime covering my face and body. The ice cold water sharpened my senses and heightened my awareness, not to mention scrubbed away stuff that had been there for years. I scrubbed out my hair as well, braiding it down my back once I was done and wrapping a towel around my terribly skinny but surprisingly strong frame. I hadn’t felt so alive and clean in my entire memory before the war, and I was positive it was the best feeling ever.

I slipped out into the clothing department still in my towel, confident no one was around to see me, and found myself some tight regular jeans and an actual belt, not a piece of string like I was currently using to hold up my torn-up and bloodied knee-length cutoffs.

The next section I came to was just awkward; underwear. I put on some clean, blue boy shorts after scanning the place and grabbing the closest thing, not wanting to be within a hundred feet of the place. I found an old-fashioned torture device my mother used to use called a bra and grabbed a green polka-dotted one that fit my small chest and put it on, through much struggle and trial and error. These things were confusing, but having one on was almost somewhat comfortable. Next, I found a purple t-shirt with a skull on it and slipped it on, putting a green hooded sweatshirt on over it. I chose to keep the leather jacket, just because throwing out something I’d had for so long seemed sacrilegious, putting it on over the hoodie I’d found. I grabbed a pair of normal cotton shorts and a tank top, just to have something else to change into if need be.

Next up I wandered into the shoe section and stumbled upon some standard black high tops in my size, which I took along with some socks.

I found a black duffel bag in a nearby aisle and started putting things into it to use later, such as deodorant, a toothbrush and toothpaste and some actual soap. My dirty black combat boots were in the bottom, along with a handful of packages of socks I’d found in the shoe section. I also added another set of clothing, just in case, as well as a teddy bear for Babydoll and a little stuffed puppy for Mighty Mouse. Satisfied, I turned and headed back to camp.

“Hey.” I nodded to Zebra, tossing down my duffel and settling down for watch with him. Solar Crash and Disco returned later, all giggles and smiles.

“What’re you guys so happy about?” I remarked pointedly, seeing as how their faces were flushed.

“Well look who decided to grow up and be an actual girl. From what you looked like before, no wonder all of your guys were drooling over me.” Solar remarked cattily.

“Excuse me?” My eyebrows shot up to my hairline, staring at this girl.

“Did I stutter?” She said slowly, enunciating every syllable slowly. I stood up and walked over to her, standing awfully close.

“Come on guys, let’s not do this now.” Disco tried to cut in, but I refused to back off.

“I dare you to talk to me like that again.”

“Just ask your little boyfriend here. He didn’t mind it.” She smirked smugly. Well, at least she was smirking smugly before I put my fist in her nose. That tends to wipe the smile off somebody’s face.

She recoiled violently, but came back at me, pulling my hair and clawing at my eyes. She was an amateur compared to me, though. How many times had I wrestled two or three people for supplies? How often had I snapped a Drac’s neck after it got too close to my family? She was a distance shooter, like most Killjoys, and I was quickly sitting on top of her chest, pinning her arms with my knees and going to take a swing at her face one more time when Disco grabbed me from behind, dragging me off.

“Hey! What the fuck, I had her! You heard what she said, Disco, now Goddammit let me go!” I tried to worm out of his grasp, but he gripped my biceps too tightly. Zebra had Solar by the waist, and with her hair pulled back still, you could see the damage I’d inflicted. Her left  eye was puffy and swollen, while her nose was still streaming blood. I probably hadn’t broken it, I’d hit her hard but not that hard, but the eye would look hideous for awhile. I’d cut her cheekbone right under her right eye, which would look awful for a few days but would heal up eventually. I myself had merely a few nail marks in my face, nothing too horrible, although the girl did pretty well for herself.

“For the record, I shot her down, but when you punch first and ask questions later, that doesn’t always get communicated, does it?” Disco said harshly into my ear as the adrenaline and rage started to wear off and I stopped struggling quite so violently. He was really pissed, I could tell from the vice-like grip he had on my arms and the way he’d reprimanded me.

“Yeah yeah, I get it, violence isn’t the answer. That bitch had it coming, though, I hadn’t said two words to her and she starts insulting me.” I shook the stray hairs out of my face and stood proudly, my arms crossed as much as possible and my chin jutted forward, making me look tougher than she thought. Well, she knew not to mess with me or my own after this.

“Who the fuck do you think you are anyway, bitch?” I glared daggers at her. “I did nothing to you, and you walk in here and start insulting me. Was it because my BEST FRIEND shot you down?” Solar said nothing, only glared at me from the bear hug Zebra had her in. Her arms were pinned to her sides, but I could see her fists clenched. This wasn’t over to her, and who knows how many times I’d have to punch her face in again to get that through to her.

“Both of you, get some sleep. Wasp’s gonna hear of this in the morning, and then you’ll get your just desserts, that’s for sure.” Zebra tossed Solar onto a mattress across the fire, just as Disco tossed me.

“Hey, watch it.” I grumbled, but he ignored me, instead walking off with Zebra. I grumbled and stood, opening some blankets and grabbing a few nearby pillows before finally settling down to get some sleep. And then I heard some teenage boys whispering.

“Damn, your chica can fight.” The kid whose voice I didn’t recognize said quickly in Spanish.

“Well, you’re not the only three who speak Spanish here, so shut your mouth and go to bed before I kick your ass too.” I spoke in Spanish in response, prompting the mattresses over by where the boys were to get awfully quiet awfully fast. I chuckled to myself.

“Good night.” I called cheerfully in English before turning over and going to sleep.