Generation Nothing *A Fabulous Killjoy Tale*

I Believe We're The Enemy

And that's it. I don't know what my face looks like, but Kid does. He sighs, and closes his eyes. Kid reaches out and grabs my hand. As he reaches out, he shifts something in his other hand. I know very well what it is.

I have no words to say, but I imagine I mumble something that sounds like, "Why?"

"You know I love you. I love you so much. But you also know that this war needs to end, and they need help. I would have had to fight anyway, eventually. You too. No one is spared in this backwards world." He smiles softly. I feel the tears in my eyes. Not the kind of tears when I fell out of the top of an oak tree, or when I was grazed by a Draculoid bullet during a wind fight. No, these were the kind of tears I cried when I saw the ashes of my home, all those years ago. I don't cry, through. I can't. This is too big of a deal to give in.

Kid squeezes my hand. "What do you do now?" I whisper.

"I wait for Dr. Death Defying. Until then, I'm here, unless they assign me for a special mission." He states, as if he was reciting from a manual. Kid lowers his voice, "But what are the odds of that? I'm nineteen, still technically underage."

That makes me feel a bit better. Kid gives me a small smile, and I return it.

Meanwhile, people were now staking out. Some brave souls are now scouting out for some Logos. In a matter of minutes, there is a collective whisper of one being drawn on a stone. Maple Spade's. We all know she was killed just weeks ago. In a clap with an Exterminator. Now her only legacy is her tale and her Logo. I shiver at the thought.

After we know it's safe, everyone sneaks through the back entrance. Upon reaching the warehouse door, Kid and I exchange looks of excitement, like little children on holiday. While the haul wasn't large, there were quite a few full shelves.

As soon as Neon Cola gives us the silent signal, we run into the main halls of the Station. Within a minute or two, we have gathered the standard amount to keep ourselves alive for the next thirty days. The Station is now almost completely empty. But the best part is yet. There is enough for all of us, but now we have free reign over the extra things, besides the Cans. Items such as dried fruit, canteens of electrolytes, and even biscuits littered the backs of the shelves.

After we ravage the rest of the supplies, the Runners and I sit around the center of the building to ration out what we found.

I immediately find Kid, with his long arms full of bottles, boxes, and Cans. Holding onto my haul, I walk over to him. We exchange smiles, and he winks at me. I imagine he got a hold of some good stuff.

Our combined stockpile consists of a couple hundred Cans, enough water with some to spare, and Kid surprises me with a package of fig cookies. They are easily expired by a month or so, but man has it been long since we've had such a luxury. Kid beams at me when he sees my astonished face. "How the hell did you get a hold of these?" I say, examining the package.

We sit together, among our resources, I lean on him in mock fatigue, and he sighs happily. While the people assigned to look out for our trail back to the tracks, Kid and I sit quietly, watching the other Runners. Some Killjoys, some not. Some alone, some with others. There are no families out here on the railways. They were all either separated, or killed. Maybe that's why no one ever speaks to Kid and I. Because we are the closest bunch out here. We have each other, which is something nobody else really has. The funny thing is, we don't know much about each other, through the whole five years of our friendship. We don't know about each other's lives pre-railways, our families, our homes, even our names. Names don't matter out here until you have your real names. Your Killjoy name. The day I met him, he approached me, a fourteen year old to a nine year old, everyone ahead of us called him "Kid". Because he didn't have a name. So now he is Kid, and always will be, at least to me.

My melancholy thoughts were interrupted by the Kid shifting his arm under my head. He sighs again. I look up. I catch him gazing into nothingness.

"What's wrong?" I tug at his shirt, snapping him back into reality.

Kid immediately goes back into normal mode. "Nothing you need to worry about, twerp."

He only calls me a twerp when he's treating me like a child. "I don't need to worry about anything. I just want you to talk to me." I reply. He smiles at me, "Too clever."

We sit in silence. The questions I want to ask burn in the back of my head. I have to let one go, just this once.

"So what does it look like?" I ask quietly.

"I don't think I'm supposed show anyone yet. Until I have to leave, that is." Kid says in mock seriousness, but then we both smirk. He pulls something small out of his pocket. A patch.

Kid's official Logo as a Killjoy. It's a red circle, and in that lies a small insignia of a snake with an open mouth. I am awestruck. We exchange silent looks of confirmation. This is real.

"Kobra Kid." He whispers.

(A/N So Yeah, The Legacy Begins. Vote, Comment, and Do Whatever, my Rock and Rollers.)