FIELD TRIP ONE:

Children…don’t stop dancing

Believe you can fly

Away…..

- Creed

The wind rattled against the window-panes and the two figures huddled on the floor of the ramshackle excuse for a home could barely keep their teeth from chattering from the cold. Drops of water from a hole in the roof, fell into a rusty old basin that lay on the floor. Another rat scurried across the rickety wooden floorboards, but not before stopping to nibble lightly on the crusty piece of stale bread that had been there for God knows how long.

There was really nothing to brag about in the tiny home, which consisted of mainly one large room filled with nothing more than a mattress that had holes in it. It was barely covered with a floral print bed sheet, which must have been a million years old, for the prints were now faded and yellow with age. A large bookshelf that looked as if it were bound to fall down at any minute stood in the corner. Filled with books that were hardly read and pictures of former occupants that were now either dead or nowhere to be found, they stood silently in their places, now covered with layers of dust.

The kitchen…at least what was supposed to be a kitchen, was made up of a small circular wooden table with two similar chairs that flanked it’s sides. The former pristine white cabinets were now dark with age, some had even lost their hinges and were practically about to fall off. It didn’t help that the wind had begun to gust even harder and so the creaking sounds of the doors swinging back and forth was bound to set anyone’s teeth on edge. The sink was filled with dishes that would never be washed and used. Cockroaches and rats had long made the area their humble abode and no human dared approach it. What filled the cupboards, you might ask? Nothing worth mentioning. Perhaps an empty cereal box or some crackers, or maybe some tins of unopened soup that would have expired by now.

There was no microwave. They had had no need for a fridge. They barely had enough light, as the only source either came from the lone light bulb that swung dangerously off its sockets or from natural sunlight during the day.

It was midnight and the lights were out.

The older boy tightened his grip around the smaller trembling form. The brown, threadbare blanket could barely cover them both and finally giving up, he settled for wrapping up the other completely in it.

Wide and almost frightened dark eyes turned to face the determined ones above them. “Oniichan…aren’t you going to need it? It’s cold and…”

“Shssh…not a sound, Yamcha.” Came the soft reprimand, as a steady finger was pressed against the cold lips. “Listen…can you hear them coming?”

Sure enough, the sounds of hooves from the powerful horses could be heard in the distance. Any minute now, they would be separated from each other. It was only a matter of time before they would be caught. They couldn’t run away forever.

The one named Yamcha whimpered softly and clung to the older boy in complete terror. “Kak…Kakkarrot…I am scared…”

The older boy nodded slowly and tightened his grip, not wanting to let go, but knowing that it was inevitable. The neighs from the horses were outside the home now and Kakkarrot could only grit his teeth in frustration. He could hear their voices. Men with wicked eyes and hungry leers, ready and waiting for them.

“Make them go away, Kakkarrot. Please, make them go away.”

The young boy could only squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head quickly, the pain and agony of losing his companion for the rest of his life too much for him to take. “I will come back for you, Yamcha. I promise…”

A thunderous voice, suddenly bellowed out mockingly. “COME OUT NOW, BOYS! I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE! DON’T MAKE THIS ANY HARDER ON ALL OF US, OKAY?”

Kakkarrot swallowed tightly and almost winced at how hard Yamcha, who had now risen to his feet, was now squeezing his forearm. “Go, Yamcha. Please…just go with them…”

“Never!!! I won’t leave you alone!!” Tears of frustration spilled out of Yamcha’s eyes and he tugged on Kakkarrot’s arm roughly. “Let’s run away again!! They won’t catch us this time!!”

‘COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE…’

Kakkarrot smiled sadly, not budging from his position. “We have been running for a long time Yamcha and you know that we are surrounded. There is no escape this time.”

The fifteen-old Yamcha stared at his ‘older brother’ in disbelief. “You swore you would protect me, Kakkarrot!! How can you give up so easily?!!”

“Because I am tired, Yamcha!! I just want to be free again and the only way I can do that is by giving you up!!”

Yamcha staggered backwards weakly and sucked in a harsh breath. It wasn’t true. His own ‘brother’ wasn’t going to give him away in exchange for his freedom. The thought alone would not register in his brain. “You…you are…making me an exchange?” he gasped out weakly. “How…how….how could you?!”

“WE ARE COUNTING TO TEN AND THEN WE ARE COMING IN. I THINK WE HAVE GIVEN YOU TWO ENOUGH TIME FOR YOUR GOODBYES. ONE…TWO…”

“Kakkarrot!! Answer me!! Why would you give me away?!”

The taller boy could only lower his head to the ground in self-pity. He couldn’t bear to look into the accusing eyes any longer.

~ I am not who you think I am… ~

‘…SIX…SEVEN….’

“I thought…I thought you loved me…” Yamcha muttered out weakly.

The sounds of guns clicking and getting ready to be fired filled the uncomfortable silence. Another rat scurried by, simply oblivious to everything around it.

“They will kill us if you don’t go, Yamcha.” Kakkarrot finally whispered out harshly. “Do you want to die?”

“I would gladly die with you! You know that!”

‘….EIGHT…NINE….’

Suddenly, the older boy rose to his feet and flashed angry midnight black eyes on the pale visage of the younger. “Get the hell out of here, before I hit you myself!! You keep talking of stupid things! I DON’T WANT TO DIE! YOU HEAR ME? NOW GET THE HELL OUT!!”

And with a violent tug on the startled boy’s arm, Kakkarrot began to drag him out of the room. Yamcha screamed and struggled, arms and legs failing and making contact with the stronger body before him. “Let me go!! Let me go!! I hate you!! Let me GOOOOOOO!!”

The door was kicked open and Kakkarrot tossed the screaming boy onto the muddy earth. The rain was beginning to fall in light drizzles now as Yamcha coughed and sobbed helplessly. The burly men dressed in the familiar dark green uniforms came into view and Kakkarrot grit his teeth and clenched his fists at his side.

“I have him here as requested.” He bit out coldly. “He was a bit hard to convince, but I managed just fine.”

“Very good job, Kakkarrot.” The heavy-set man, who simply went by the name of General Tien walked out of the group and to the forefront. He eyed the sniffling boy on the ground and nudged him gently with his booted feet, only to yelp as he felt sharp canines sink into them. “Curses!! You found us a wild one, Kakkarrot!!”

Yamcha’s reward was a swift kick to the ribs and Kakkarrot struggled to keep his composure. “Could I have my money, please?”

“Impatient little bugger, aren’t you?” Tien sneered lightly. “Muraki! Give the boy his money.”

A small black purse was tossed and Kakkarrot caught it neatly. On any other day, he would have accepted the money with a giddy sense of satisfaction…but not today. Maybe never. He watched as two men lifted the now limp figure of Yamcha into the military-like truck where other boys like him would be awaiting their impending fates.

And Kakkarrot was responsible for most of that.

A strong hand slapped itself upon his shoulder and he winced, barely able to control his flinch.

“Good job, Kakkarrot. You are getting quite good at this. In no time, you might be bringing us ten boys a week.” Tien lit up a cigar and puffed it gently. “So…you gonna go home now? Or are you going to bring us the next one?”

Kakkarrot held out his hand. “Give me the details.”

Tien laughed softly. “Man oh man. Once you get them started, there is no giving up, eh? Here you go. His name is Vegeta. The poor kid lives in a rich little home up in the hills. Someone like him is just dying for an adventure, ne? Oh, and I heard he does all those racecar things. Good luck on this one, Kakky-chan!”

“It’s Kakkarrot.” Came the cold reply. “I will have him in by Friday.”

“Hmm…that confident, are you? That’s just two days away.”

Kakkarrot snorted and turned on his heels, already beginning to make his way into the darkness of the forests that had surrounded the home. “I said I will have him by Friday and this time, I want my money doubled.”

The trees swallowed him up and Tien could only frown after him. There was no doubt that Kakkarrot had become an invaluable asset to the organization, but he was beginning to fear that his success was going to go to his head quickly. Kakkarrot was becoming more insolent as the years went by and before long, Tien knew that his job might even come into jeopardy.

A soldier walked up to him and saluted smartly. “We are ready to go now, sir.”

Tien only gave a low ‘hn’ before tossing his cigar to the ground and crushing it beneath his feet. “Let’s go to the lab and drop this bunch off. We should have some to pick up tomorrow from the West.”

He glanced at the forest again and shivered lightly. He hated to admit it, but Kakkarrot scared him. The boy was a damn fine actor and could turn on the charm when needed, but the cold, empty shell that showed up after each conquest was what filled Tien with dread.

~ Hn…just getting paranoid, that’s all. He wouldn’t dare try to take my job away from me. ~

And satisfied at that little self-pep talk, Tien got back on his horse and followed the truck that had the words…

‘CAMP SUNNYSIDE: Where good boys are bred to lead.’

…written on its sides.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The young redhead smiled at the cameras and shuffled her papers into a neat pile.

“Good evening. I am Linda Stone and welcome to Twenty-Four, your nightly news program that deals with the tough issues. Our special guest tonight is Lord Bardock, the founder and owner of Camp Sunnyside. This wealthy billionaire opened up this organization five years ago to help in the education of young men in our nation. With a success rate of over ninety percent, it is no small wonder that many seek to join this group.”

She turned to face the handsome man that sat across from her, barely controlling the blush that came to her face at the small wink that was thrown in her direction. Bardock oozed charm from every pore and the expensive black suit he wore did little to hide the power and strength beneath it.

“Welcome to the show, Lord Bardock…”

“Please…” came the low, husky reply. “Call me Bardock.”

The woman was clearly flustered and being the professional she was, she quickly composed herself again.

“Yes…Bardock. Now, you have been the owner of Camp Sunnyside for Boys for the past few years and have had some very positive reviews over the way you have run that organization. Why would a man like you want to open up such a place?”

“Well, my dear, Miss. Stone, it is quite simple. Our nation is lacking in strong, capable men that could become the future leaders of tomorrow. At Camp Sunnyside, we are out to make sure that no one is left behind. We will groom these young men and make them into better humans for the good of society.”

“Quite admirable, Mr…Bardock…but you will have to admit that your organization seems to be coming under a lot of fire lately…why is that?”

The dark-haired man seemed to think this question through for a moment, before placing the charming smile on his visage again. “Well, you must realize that in this business there are a lot of competition out there. It is only natural that people would want to…put down our organization as nothing more than another sham, but as you can plainly see, our success rate is incredible. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But there have been some people who say that you run a secret military-like operation behind the scenes. Is there any truth to the rumor?”

Bardock laughed softly. “A military-like operation? Oh, please. Such stuff is for only those who still believe in stupid fairy tales. I run no such organization and my record can speak for itself. I have been compliant with the government’s wishes and have turned in all documents requested, so there really is no need for any one to be suspicious of my activities.”

Linda was willing to believe anything, it seemed. “Fantastic, Mr….Bardock. Haha…I just can’t seem to get myself around to actually calling you by your name. Thank you for spending some time with us this evening. And remember everyone, registration for the Fall season is coming up and applications are going fast. So do send your son to Camp Sunnyside. You will be glad you did. This is Linda Stone for Twenty-four and until next week, have a goodnight.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Good evening, Mr. Bardock. Please follow me this way. The limousine is waiting for you.”

Bardock nodded absentmindedly at the announcement, his face furrowed in thought as he walked down the flight of stairs flanked by his bodyguards. He glanced at his watch and cursed beneath his breath.

“Mr. Bardock! Mr. Bardock, sir! A quick picture for the Times newspaper!”

Being the professional, Bardock gave an automatic smile at the excited camera man and waved to the ogling group of onlookers as he walked out of the building. Slipping into the black vehicle quickly, he sighed and closed his eyes in bliss, enjoying the welcome quiet. He sensed his assistant making himself comfortable beside him and not bothering to open up his eyes, he asked.

“Did you manage to shut those bastards up?”

The green-skinned man nodded and stared out the window, before replying gruffly. “They were paid as you requested, sir. But that won’t stop the rumors from growing.”

“Fuck! I went to the goddamn interview, didn’t I? What else do they want from me?”

Not tearing his eyes away from the passing scene, as the limousine began to move, Piccolo, Lord Bardock’s personal assistant for over a decade, replied. “Some of our ‘volunteers’ are becoming careless. Last week alone, we lost two children and they must have reported the incident. We cannot afford to let these cracks slip, sir.”

Bardock scowled and faced the other window. “What about my son?” He finally asked. “Have we heard from him yet?”

Piccolo nodded. “Hai. Tien gave us a report this morning. He got the boy for us, but his next task might not be so easy.”

“My son can do anything.” Bardock stated proudly. “No task is too hard for him.”

Piccolo held back a retort. “He has not returned to the estate, however…”

“Damn bastard. He thinks he can just take off whenever he likes…”

“… we did get an email from him. We couldn’t trace back the location though. He is being quite discreet about his whereabouts.”

Bardock stole a quick glance at the impassive face with a raised eyebrow. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that Piccolo had sounded…resentful? He shrugged and reached for the bottle of bourbon that was kept in the mini-bar. Filling a small glass quickly, he gulped it down. “Whatever my son does in his spare time is no concern of mine. Just as long as he brings me what I need at the end of the day, I am just fine.”

He closed his eyes and leaned back to rest against the leather seats, successfully declaring the conversation over.

Piccolo hardly suppressed an exasperated sigh as he watched his boss go to ‘sleep’. Of course he was resentful, angry even. He had been working for Bardock for such a long time and yet, the billionaire insisted on treating him like he was just another mere appendage. He clenched his hands into fists on his lap and glared out of the window. Things would have to start changing around here. And he for one would see to it that the organization would be run his way and on his terms. The only problem was…

He was nursing a serious crush on his boss's teenage son.

~*~*~*~*~

Camp Sunnyside was a legitimate organization to the curious onlooker. The large Victorian house looked homely and comfortable. Surrounded by a beautiful lake and a forest that could be used countless times for exploring, everyone who had visited the home could only say good things about it. Parents had willingly sent their children to the home during summer vacations and had gushed and given nothing but rave reviews over how wonderful their children had turned out to be in the end.

However, beneath the homely structure, lay the most complicated and extensive network of laboratories ever seen. Within the steel walls, scientists under the special employment of Lord Bardock, worked day and night, preparing drugs that could help in forming the ‘perfect’ boy. Rare chemicals were mixed daily and sent to the home’s cafeteria where it was varied with the boys’ meals or drinks. The effects were not noticeable immediately.

The positive effects were the first to become evident. The boys’ IQS increased dramatically. Their capacity for learning and absorbing information increased ten-fold and physical strength was greatly improved as well. Unfortunately, the side effects were prone to show up much, much later. Many of the boys would eventually end up with mild symptoms of the flu, which would escalate gradually. Bodies became dehydrated and the end result would inevitably be death.

The funny thing was…these occurred months or even years after the boys ‘graduated’ from Sunnyside. Many of the parents had not thought of placing the blame on the camp, since their boys had seemed to perform better than ever before. But as the years had passed, many had become suspicious and the word had begun to spread that Camp Sunnyside might not be all that it appeared to be.

Registration had dropped and the need for more boys to use as lab rats was becoming a pressing issue. And so they had gone to their second option…pick up the homeless boys from the streets. When that plan had gone awry, thanks to their lack of really good workers, the scientists’ demands had caused Bardock to do something rather desperate.

Enlisting Kakkarrot’s help was something he had been loathe to do but the entrepreneur had had no choice. He had expected more of a fight from his boy, but he had lied to Kakkarrot, had convinced him that he was helping the camp’s cause and Bardock was sure that his son had fallen for the tale completely.

Kakkarrot was to play the lost, lonely boy who would make friends with the boys that he met. Once trust was gained, the soldiers would ‘chase’ Kakkarrot forcing them to flee to the ramshackle home in the woods. There the ‘exchange’ would be made and then it was on to the next. So far, there had been no flaws to this plan and Kakkarrot had been doing quite well.

But Bardock couldn’t help wondering…how long was the honeymoon to last?

~*~*~*~*~

Kakkarrot cut the tape with his teeth and pressed it firmly against his wrist. The makeshift bandage would have to do for now. Thanks to Yamcha’s kicking, he now had a broken wrist and several bruises on his torso. Cursing the boy in every language he knew, he slowly began to rub the ointment he had bought from a nearby store on the wounds. Hopefully, they would be cleared up by tomorrow and he could get back to business.

Kakkarrot had turned eighteen last month and to celebrate the milestone, he had run away from home…again. His new ‘home’ was a simple one-room apartment that he had rented from an old lady in the filthiest part of town. A place where he knew his father and cronies would not bother to search. It contained only a small bed and a closet for his clothes, a table that was rarely used…except to place anything he might have bought and two chairs. He had no use for a kitchen, since he bought a lot of his food outside…well, he had to have a microwave and one stood in the corner, looking rather melancholy. The tiny bathroom completed the picture and compared to his lavish upbringing, the apartment was a certified dump.

But he loved it.

His only means of communication to the outside world were through his laptop and his cell phone. For two long years, he had been one of the key players in his father’s dealings. It had been no choice of his at first, but as the years had gone by, he had fallen into the role of senior ‘brother’ to many of his conquests quite easily enough.

The job was simple. Recruit as many boys as you can. And he had done so. Did he have any regrets? Kakkarrot wasn’t even sure about that himself. He had developed the cold persona after dealing with countless nights of dreams haunted with the voices of the many boys that he had betrayed.

The shrill sound of his cell phone ringing jerked him alert and picking it up, he answered coolly. “Anything?”

He listened attentively to the voice at the other end, fingers typing furiously on the laptop as information was reeled off to him at breakneck speed. “Gotcha. I will be there tomorrow by five.” He dropped the phone and watched as the new screen came up with what he needed to see.

“Vegeta…age…seventeen…come on…gimme a picture…” He tapped well-manicured fingers on the table as the image of the boy he was supposed to recruit finally showed up. He chuckled softly at the scowling visage, but couldn’t deny that the boy did look handsome. Dark eyes that gleamed with seeming malicious intent glared back at him, complete with the perfect-shaped nose and the slightly pouty full lips that just begged to be…

Kakkarrot coughed and growled. “Focus your attention on his stats.” He muttered to himself.

Vegeta’s stats weren’t that impressive. If anything, they were downright horrible. The boy came from a rich home. He was an only child. He had had more run-ins with the police than ever thought possible and was not that smart in school either.

“What the hell? I am going after a monster…”

But challenges were good. Hell, challenges were very good for Kakkarrot. It had been a long time since he had had any real trouble. Yamcha had been too trusting from the onset, but he had a feeling that this Vegeta person might turn out to be quite different.

He reached for the phone again and dialed the number quickly. “Hey…yeah, I know I said for us to meet at five tomorrow, but could we change that? Uh huh…I see this Vegeta guy likes to hang out at the tracks…yeah…there is a race tonight…he should be there…we ought to make our move soon, I mean the earlier the better, right? Cool. See you in an hour.”

He closed the tiny device and leapt to his feet and making his way to his closet, he smirked lightly and reached for a black leather jacket.

Let the games begin…