Chapter Text
Two nights later, Deacon showed them a small hiding place in a sewer where they could sneak away while the guards made sure the prisoners were returned to their cells. Following his instructions they waited patiently until the boy came back for them.
“Bill” Missy whispered to him “What do you think?” She asked him, posing like a model.
Not having been able to retrieve their old clothes besides Bill's binder, Missy had managed to fashion herself out with two small, old, inactive missiles as an unrivaled bra, ripping her overalls into baggy pants, styling her outfit outstandingly.
“Your fashion sense is the most resplendent, Missy.” He replied sincerely, smiling at her.
Bill himself had cut his heinous Water & Power overall down to a pair of pants and a crop top, with his binder underneath it. His outfit was still monochromatic and not as triumphant as Missy's, but at least it was most un-excellent.
Missy smiled back, until suddenly a thought seemed to turn it into a grimace.
“Although they'd look better if I kept taking my estrogen, I've gone from a B to an A.” She commented saddened.
Bill twisted his face sympathetically. Himself hadn't started his hormone treatment yet, even though thanks to his father's shenanigans they were among the few people who might have had access to them (which was why Bill believed it was the reason Missy had married his father in the first place, though he couldn't blame her. Hidden motifs or not in her marriage she had always been kind and loving to them, after all), so he couldn't imagine what it was like to find himself in the odious situation of being forced to detransition like her stepmother was in.
“It's too bad we can't swap some parts, huh?” He tried to joke weakly to cheer her up.
Missy laughed, though Bill knew his comment hadn't been all that funny, looking at him fondly to feign shyness next.
“While I appreciated your noble intentions, Bill, there's not much you can trade in that area...” She quipped, letting a sly smile give her away.
“Hey!” Bill exclaimed with mock offense, holding his hand to his chest. “My tits are bodacious! It's egregious that any babe can't get them!”
He and Missy burst out laughing just as Deacon slid down the sewer looking uneasy.
“There's been a slight change of plans...” He communicated in a nervous voice. “My father must have changed the password to the security cameras after Ted eloped... Without being able to log in to disconnect it, I've had to rip it out.” He explained with the aforementioned camera still in his shaking hands. “We'd better hurry.” He whispered briskly until stopping at Missy's new outfit, blushing profusely and looking tempted to ask, before shaking his head sharply to himself.
Without further ado he quickly climbed back up the sewer, silently gesturing for them to follow him. Back on the surface Bill watched as the mine was almost silent for the night except for the lone prodding of some prisoner grounded in working overtime and the snorting of guards trying not to fall asleep on their watch. He and Missy followed in the careful footsteps of Deacon, who seemed to know every blind spot and crevice through which to move without arousing suspicion, until at last they reached the armament antechamber, replete with tanks and jets with which they could make their escape.
“This is the chamber I have disabled.” Deacon communicated to them in a whisper from where they were crouched in a corner. “That will give us time to steal a tank, although it is possible that they have also changed the code...” With obvious fear for such a possibility, he continued speaking trying to keep his composure. “In that case we'll have to break in, which will take longer. I assume I am the only one who has received military apprenticeship, so I will stay if necessary and give you as much extra time as I can on your escape.”
Bill looked at the boy in shock, with a strange mixture of gratitude and pity for what a child was willing to do for strangers like them.
“We don't abandon anyone here, honey.” Missy told him gently but firmly, cradling his cheek in a motherly way.
Bill supported her words by nodding enthusiastically.
“Exactly! Besides, we need you to find your sibling.”
Deacon returned their shocked gaze, replacing it with a touched expression and opening his mouth to presumably thank them when voices behind his back interrupted him.
They all turned to watch as a group of men clustered with tools around the jets and tanks on the site. Deacon cursed under his breath.
“They're not prisoners... but they're not guards either.” Missy observed quietly, repairing that they weren't wearing blue coveralls and weren't armed.
“No.” Deacon confirmed. “They're just paid workers for Water & Power. They're in charge of passing inventory, fixing weaponry, making deliveries...”
“What do we do now?” Bill asked uneasily, afraid to predict the boy's next words by the defeated tone he had taken.
“There's not much we can do... Looks like they're going to work all night, that leaves us-”
“Wait a minute, young man! You're saying you've disabled the security camera in this area, right?” Missy interrupted him.
“Uh... yes.” Deacon replied in confusion, with the aforementioned camera still in his hands.
“And that the workers are unarmed civilians.”
“Yes.”
“Which makes them no more dangerous than the average man.” Missy sentenced with a fierce smile. “You take care of getting a tank going and we'll take care of them.” With so much as a wink, Missy snatched the camera from his hands before Deacon could react to toss it to Bill, who could only follow her in stupefaction as she strode confidently toward the men and snapped her fingers behind her impatiently. “Hurry up, Ricky!”
The last exclamation caught the attention of the group of men, who turned to find Missy in her missile bra walking towards them haughtily and Bill following her out of inertia with a video camera in his hands very confused.
“Who are you?” A man with a huge nose inquired them.
Bill could only be silently grateful that their new looks didn't instantly give them away as prisoners. Meanwhile, Missy gave a loud indignant gasp.
“I'll let such an offense pass, for it is a charitable cause that has brought me here!” She exclaimed with great fuss. “I am Julie, the model who captured the cover of the eleventh edition of Playboy magazine's 2027, and you have been chosen as Water & Power's most desirable men to appear in their calendar.”
“We're going to be famous?!” A man who looked like a giant worm asked, excitedly.
“Of course you are, sweetie!” Missy assured him. “Now, why don't you guys stand with your backs to the tank? It looks very manly. Come on Ricky, we haven't got all night!”
It took Bill a moment to realize that Missy was addressing him, urging him to pretend to tape the men who were taking off their shirts under Missy's instructions, leaving the weaponry unattended. Bill could see out of the corner of his eye as Deacon slipped behind them toward one of the tanks.
After a few minutes he could see the boy re-emerge from inside, waving to let them know they were ready for their big escape.
“That's it! What muscles! What ferocity!”
“Mi-Julie...” Bill interrupted her from where she was still encouraging the men in making increasingly extravagant poses. “I think we should change the angle... Maybe it looks better from a higher point.” He explained, trying to communicate to her with his eyes to get on the tank.
“Great idea, Ricky! Keep it up guys, roll around on the ground a bit. Big men like you coated in dirt makes the temperature rise.” Missy waved goodbye with a wink and a chuckle, watching as the eager workers hurried to follow her orders.
From atop the tank Deacon gawked at them, unable to believe they were actually going to escape like this. Bill felt the same way as he hurried up with Missy. Once the three of them were inside, Deacon wasted no time in getting underway.
The workers finally noticed and raised the alarm, but even as the armed guards started in to block their exit Bill couldn't contain his excitement that he was already tasting their freedom again, feeling safe behind that metal fort.
“DEACON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!!” Captain Logan was heard shouting even over the sound of gunfire.
“YOU'RE A DICK, DAD!!!” Deacon climbed up the hatch to shout by way of farewell, pressing a button on a remote control.
When the rest of the tanks and jets they left behind exploded, their laughter of incredulous jubilation echoed in the cold desert night.