Sweet Vendetta //Danger Days//

16. Giving Her Back

     "Cola, pass me another Neptune Pop. That sun is making my body feel like a jungle today." Dr. D asked the man sitting next to him on a plastic lawn chair. The old man wiped the sweat off of his brow.

"Something's wrong, D. I can feel it." Cola tossed the war veteran a purple can of soda.

"I'm sure you're just overreacting again. You've had a lot on your plate these past few weeks." Dr. D brushed the younger man's concern's away.

"It's in the airwaves, I just know it." Cola muttered.

Missile was standing a few feet away from the two men, attempting to shoot down a row of empty soda cans.

"Stupid gun!" She hissed, missing yet another makeshift target. A few more shots later, she gave up.

"Okay, that's enough target practice for today." She huffed, walking back over to Cola and Dr. D.

"You know, don't let that Ghoster get the best of you." The radio host pointed towards the gun.

"If you want to make it dance, this guy over here know's a thing or two about the two-step." Dr. D motioned to Cola, who was folding up his lawn chair.

"Now, I've got to go get ready for my broadcast, while there's still something to say." The old man grunted, powering on his motorized wheelchair.

"Thanks, D. See you later, right?" Missile asked.

"You sure will, sunshine." Dr. D gave the little girl one last wave before turning into the radio station.

"You wanna know what made me such a good shot?" Cola looked down at the girl, who was staring at the failed targets with disappointment.

"What?" She tilted her head.

"I didn't look at my enemy, I looked around them." The man crouched down to Missiles height.

"That makes no sense? How can you shoot something without looking at it?" She challenged.

"It's what you don't see. The auras. The waves and frequencies. Everything and everyone has one, but you have to find them."

Missile narrowed her eyes at the can, trying to find these 'auras'.

"These cans don't own you. You own them." Cola instructed. 

The cans slowly began to move in different different, becoming a blur of bright colours. Missile hesitantly pulled the trigger, finally knocking a neon green can to the ground.

"Yes!" Cola cheered, patting the kid on the back. 

"About time!" She exhaled proudly.

"I knew you could do it." The poet smiled down at the girl, who was staring down at the white pistol in her hands in shock.

"This is so cool." She grinned, sticking the gun in her belt.

"I'll give you a lift back to the nest. It's about time you headed home." Cola offered.

"Thanks for teaching me to shoot, by the way." Missile began to skip towards the car.

"No problem, kid." He quickened his pace, keeping up with the energetic child.

---

       Korse sat in the passenger seat of a bulky silver garbage truck as his Scarecrow counterpart drove through the slums of Battery City.

"We'll pull over here. Throw any bots away that you think are suitable for recycling." The man at the wheel told him. Korse absolutely despised taking orders, as he was usually the one who gave them, but he nodded anyway, not in the mood to protest. He hopped out of the truck doors, scouting the area for dying androids.