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She looked at the tire embedded upright in the ground and remembered.

The tire is all she has left of her family – of her past. It isn't from the actual Trans Am, which had been left behind with the bodies. She'd found a spare in the back of the diner, and Show Pony helped her set it up.

Four names were painted on it, the first time by a sobbing ten year old. They'd been repainted over and over throughout the years.

Because it had been many years. Little Motorbaby was all growed up and a Crashqueen in her own right now, but she'd never give up the name they called her. It was Poison who started it, and the name stuck. Usually in the Dustlanes, folk renamed themselves, for how could someone else read the depths of your soul and determine its name? But Motorbaby was an exception. Her family had given her the name, and she bore it proudly.

She laid her offering before the marker – a tumbleweed, of course, because who could find flowers out in the Dustlanes? After another moment of silence, Motorbaby grabbed her helmet (bright aqua with yellow flowers) and jammed it on. Show Pony had decorated the helmet for her birthday a few years back, and Show Pony had sadly watched her leave a few hours ago.

No one tried to stop her, though, because it was her right to leave. This day had been six years coming, and no one had the right to tell her to stop it. As Motorbaby gunned her bike (Kobra's originally, left behind at the diner when they came for her) and sped out onto Route Domino, she grinned savagely beneath her helmet.

Today she would take her justice.

Today her entire family received justice. Six years ago, Korse had come for her, for the supposed "cure" she carried in her blood. Six years ago he had tested her, discovered that her blood wasn't scrubbed, but held on to her anyway. And six years ago, her family had come to save her.

Motorbaby had been too young at the time to get revenge, but she had learned a lot in the last few years. Dr. Death-Defying and Show Pony had taken her in, been a surrogate family for her, and taught her anything the Killjoys hadn't had time to. She could ride, shoot, blow up, and hack with the best of the Zones now, and anyone who had known the Killjoys knew that she was one of them. She was a real Killjoy now, both in skill and in blood, and she had a plan to get to Korse.

Six years ago he thought she had the cure, and now he'd heard the rumors again. But this time, his cure would be the permanent sleep that her family already had. And once he was gone, maybe Motorbaby herself would be able to sleep again.