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Nighthawks: Chapter 1

What was the saying that everyone like to mention? The bigger they are, the harder they fall? Yeah, sure; it worked, but it didn't fit the best. For mankind, it wasn't a matter of how big it was, that affected the fall, it was how high it had jumped before tumbling back down to the dirt and the mud. An inevitability more than anything else, and one that was ignored at such a cost. Perhaps everyone had thought that if the jump reached high enough, they could defy the gravity of fate itself. How foolish. Down here, back in the filth of the ground, it didn't matter what their goals were, all that mattered was the outcome. David hated the outcome, he hated it more than anything. All that the people of the past had left its descendents was death and ruin; a rotting world and a constant state of anarchy. Most of the Earth now consisted of inhospitable wastes of toxic radioactivity, or clouds of self-sustaining nano-viruses. It was ironic how the places that once brimmed with life and innovation the most, those vast centers of progress, were now the most inhumane of environments; the biggest targets for arsenal upon arsenal of doomsday weapons. Formerly isolated areas, like where David resided, were the only places where life could continue.

Speaking of irony, it was funny how David only went off on these elaborate tangents when his head hurt the most. Between his negative cascade of thoughts, and his grueling hangover, he didn't even have the attention to appreciate the brilliant view of the sun peaking over the mountains to the east. His tangled mass of limbs sprawled over the ratty looking couch as the window behind him let in a radiant orange sunbeam that illuminated the messy looking room. His vision instead, was focused on the lazily rotating fan above. Around him, bottles of moonshine were scattered about, and some still leaked out trickles of the putrid liquid from within. A standing lamp was knocked over and leaning on a red leather chair to his left, and the low sitting coffee table in front of him was still littered with plates of thoroughly cleaned chicken bones. David gave a heavy groan as he tried to pull himself up off the couch, which itself creaked and moaned trying to balance out his considerable weight. It wasn't that David was fat, he was just thickset and covered in muscle; a human built like a walking brick wall. Not without much stumbling, he finally hefted himself off the sofa, before promptly tripping over the coffee table and landing on the floor with an earthshaking thud. Literally, the entire house shook from the impact, with a book even rattling itself off a shelf in comical fashion.

From somewhere to his left, behind a closed door, a series of curses and exclamations suddenly cried out as the shockwave reverberated from one end of the house to the other. After a minute or two, with David still lying in a daze over the table that was now split in half, a hurriedly dressed figure burst through the door with a pistol in hand. A reptilian, red scaled anthropomorph scanned the room with fury in her eyes, eventually finding nothing but David wallowing in his own whirlwind of destruction. With an air of disappointed realization, she casually holstered the gun and put her clawed hands on her hips, just shaking her head at the sorry sight in front of her. David turned his head to meet her eyes, grinning sarcastically and waving a hand.

“What's up?"

“What the hell are you doing!?" she asked pointedly, gesturing to the mess surrounding his prone form.

“Uhhh… waking up. Obviously." He said, all pretense of innocence gone.

The lizard threw her hands up in the air in frustration before bringing them down to rub at her eyes. Behind her, the keratin rattle on her tail started flicking back and forth, letting off its distinct noise.

“You know what? I don't even have the energy right now. I'm going back to sleep, and hoping that this is all just some bad dream."

With that, she stormed back off from where she came, closing the door behind her rather hard. David just grunted, not seeming to give much thought to her outburst. That was his roommate and business partner, Liz. Stupid name in his opinion, it would be the equivilant to a human calling himself “Chimp", but to each their own he guessed. Obviously, she herself wasn't human, but a serpent like species called a Vertrilian. Nobody really knew where they came from, or why they were here. Some said they had always existed alongside people, others said they mutated out of a nuclear hot zone, and still others said that they were aliens that got stuck here. Proof that humanity had jumped high enough to touch the stars. It was a load of shit that somehow had a significant following to those who even cared enough in the first place, including Liz. She lived in some delusional fantasy that one day her brothers and sisters from outer space would swoop down and carry her off the wretched earth. Of course, she would always get mad when David let her know how stupid he thought that was. Odd how someone who considered herself the brains of their little operation had so many seemingly stupid qualities.

Pushing himself off the floor, and Liz out of his head, David weaved through the room to his side of the house, directly opposite of where Liz's was. He stopped at the bathroom door and considered cleaning himself up.

“Nah," he thought to himself, “not in the mood."

Instead, he turned back to the common room, where the kitchen was also located. Deciding to fix himself a cup of coffee, he filled up a kettle of water and set it on a burner. He sat and waited, holding his throbbing head, while the water was heating up on the stove. The shadows cast by the rising sun gradually shifted until steam shot out the funnel with a high pitched whine, and had moved considerably by the time he was done pouring and stirring the brown liquid. As he was taking his first sips of the harsh tasting coffee, the door to Liz's room opened once again. She came striding out on her lithe legs, looking better rested before, but with a grumpy face upon seeing the mess that still littered the living area. Her scaly tail wished from side to side unpleasantly as she approached David, the loose tank top she wore clearly demonstrating her kind's lack of mammaries.

“Coffee?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Sure." she grumbled, still eyeing the mess.

“I don't suppose you mind telling me what this is all about?" she asked as David silently moved to get her a cup.

“Just a little celebration. I won a bet with that smug bastard Donovan on the death fight between Ramirez and Skull. That dull idiot thought Skull's size alone would carry the match. Cost him a hefty sum, so I splurged a little with some of the earnings."

“You bet money on that?" She asked incredulously, “I don't know how you can support those sorts of punishments. Let alone throw your hard earned debtas at it."

“Look," he said, handing her a steaming cup, “both of those assholes were murdering pricks, they deserved to die anyways. At least this way one of them gets a chance to live longer, and liven up the mood around here while they're at it."

“You muder people." Liz pointed out.

“Only when it's necessary," David corrected, “and at your discretion and paycheck."

"Please, I think we both know I'm not your boss anymore."

"The point still stands. You lead, I shoot. Simple as that. I don't go after innocents for the fun of it, unlike those sick fucks."

"I still think it's barbaric."

"After what we've seen out in the wastes? Really now? Besides, your thinking aside, I know it's a good way to get some debtas."

"What I know is that one day your gambling is going to get you in trouble. Well, more than it already has…" she trailed off, again looking at the mess; particularly the broken coffee table.

"Look, I'll clean it up okay?"

"No. You'd just about wear a skirt before you'd do a halfway decent job at cleaning. I'll fix up all this shit. You can go refill our stock of alcohol, using your money, it looks like you cleaned out the cabinet. Besides, I don't like taking to those moonshine brothers, they always stare at me weird."

"Probably 'cause you look like one of those gators they're always cooking for dinner."

"Shut up." She exclaimed, smiling slightly as she punched him playfully on the shoulder.

“But I hear you. I'll get on it as soon as I finish this." he said, raising his cup.

True to his word, once David had slurped down the last of his coffee, he donned his black leather trench coat and headed down the stairwell that sat off to the side of the common area. He descended into a small storefront filled with assorted nicknacks collected over time, before exiting through the front door and locking it behind him. The sun had risen high enough to where the sky was blue at this point, and dew hung on the grass around the beaten trail he walked on. Here, deep in the mountains, where the birds still chirped and the blowing wind was clean, you could almost forget that the world was in shambles. One could never let their guard down though, so making sure he had his magnetic handgun strapped to him, David continued into the gently rustling trees. The area that Liz and him lived couldn't really be considered a proper town, but more just a loose collection of people that abided by a simple set of rules and would aid each other in protection when necessary. There was a central market area about a thirty minute walk from where he was, but thankfully the destination he had for today was a bit closer.

The Gilligan brothers as they were known, provided moonshine to the local populace, since old world alcohol was exceedingly rare and even more so expensive. They were a little… off… but then again, who wasn't these days? With his head slowly clearing out the fog that last night had put on him, David made his way to the brother's shack at a casual pace. After a few turns and a short hike uphill, he found what he was looking for. Strung between two trees there was a large wooden board that simply read 'Gilligan's Stead. Best liquor around.' Pfft, more like only liquor around; he was sure that if some competition happened to show up, and one that put just a little effort into their product, the Gilligan brothers would be fresh out of luck. Knowing they had a monopoly on the business, the two hardly tried for taste. A little ways behind the sign however, in a small clearing, an old and beat down wooden structure squatted on the ground. As David approached it, it became obvious that the brothers were already sitting on the porch, talking amongst themselves while wearing their trademark, matching plaid shirts. Their conversation stopped in its tracks when they saw him though, and one, Jackson Gilligan, stood up and waved him over.

“Ah, will ya look at who it is? David mah man, come to spend some a' dat prize money on our humble lil' operation?"

“Unfortunately." He answered, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, don't be like 'dat." Jackson pouted, feigning insult.

“Whatever. I'll take six bottles of the usual."

“Only six? Surely a man with you're kinda pockets would be a lil' more liberal in their spendin'."

“Did I stutter? I said six."

“Okay, okay, you're the boss here. No need to get so ornery. Jeb, go in the cooler and git six of the lead clubs, you know, the strong stuff."

With a grumble, the other man stood up and headed inside the wooden structure. He re-emerged a few minutes later carrying a box of glass bottles that clinked together with each step.

“Oh, and by tha way," Jackson said as David stepped up to pay Jeb, “I heard that there was some stranger in fancy slacks going 'round looking for you and scales. Sounded like tha persistent type."

“You worried or something?" he asked, taking the box under his arm.

“Just keep ya eyes open. Would hate to lose our biggest customer."

“Huh, well thanks."

“Anytime."

David promptly left after that, his mind now occupied by the notion of a strange man looking for him and Liz. His thoughts turned elsewhere though, when all of a sudden the sound of gunfire echoed through the trees. A bit startled at first, David turned his head to the direction of the commotion, straining his ears to find the source. The bark of traditional chemical propellant weapons called out again, though this time he was prepared. From what he could surmise, and through the experience of just living where he did, it sounded like the shots came from far off. Echoes that were bounced off the rocky sides of the mountains that surrounded him from great distances. Things such as this were not entirely uncommon, there were always roamers and wanderers fighting amongst each other throughout the world; just so long as they didn't bring it here, all was good.

Without anymore distracting calls of violence beckoning from afar, David made his way back home. The house he and Liz lived in was actually built near the edge of a cliff, and gave a magnificent view to the valley below. Liz was a bit of a neat freak, and because of this, the old structure was kept in relatively pristine condition. It was also probably the reason she was so upset at the mess he had caused this morning. However, there, standing in the front yard and obscuring his interest, was a man dressed in a black suit and tie; presumably the very man that Jackson had told him about. It seemed he had already knocked on the door, and drawn Liz out to talk to her. They appeared to be conversing in a serious tone, and Liz's spiked eyebrow plates were furrowed as her neck perched forward. David put the box of moonshine down, then approached with his hand on his gun, before calling out when he got close enough.

“Hey, what exactly is going on here!?"

The man in the suit spun around a little too fast for David's liking when he heard him, and on instinct, he pulled the gun and aimed it at his face within a fraction of a second.

“Hold on there fancy dan, don't make me paint that suit red." He said as the gun whined with electrical buildup.

“Wait, David no!" Liz yelled in outrage upon realizing what was happening, “This is a fucking customer you dolt!"

Looking between the two for a second in obvious confusion, his eyes settled on Liz, whose face was a mix between anger and anxiety.

“It is?" He asked, as the strange man held up his arms in surrender, “My mistake."

He flicked off the gun and spun it around on his finger as he re-holstered it. The man slowly lowered his hands, before turning his attention back to Liz.

“May I assume this is the partner you had been telling me about?" He asked in an out of place tone that matched his stony visage.

With a sigh a relief, Liz addressed him again.

“Yes, and as you can see, his instincts often outweigh his wits."

“Hey, I'm standing right here you know!"

“No, that's good. If you are to accept my offer, someone like him will surely be a valuable asset."

“Hmph, seeming more like a detriment at the moment."

“Stop talking about me like I'm not here goddamnit," David said storming up to them, “now what's all this about an offer?"

“Would you care to tell him? You're the one proposing it after all." Liz motioned to the stranger.

Nodding in confirmation, he turned to David before speaking.

“I'm here on behalf of my superior, who's instructed me to extend his offer to you in the absence of willing acceptors in his general vicinity."

“That still doesn't tell me what it is."

Cocking his head to the side for a brief second, the stranger continued.

“I'm getting to that. I've had it confirmed by your partner here that the two of you operate a business in which you either scavenge items of necessity for the rest of the people that live here, or find ones of high value to those who can pay an adequate fee. I want you to do the latter, with a proposed reward that I beleive far exceeds adequate compensation."

“What is it you would want us to retrieve? PNGs, an SSMR… what?"

“No, nothing like that. My superior is somewhat of a… historian, rather than a visionary. He desires a pre-fall artifact that he refers to simply as 'Nighthawk'."

“Well… a codename doesn't exactly give us a lot to go on. Do you know what it is exactly?" David asked, scratching his head.

“That's what I was asking him, before you 'interrupted' us." Liz said.

"Oh well excuse me for trying to-"

“To answer your mutual question," The stranger began before David and Liz could start arguing, “no, I don't know what it is. My superior can be very paranoid when it comes to these matters. What I can tell you in order to make this job easier, should you accept, is the location of the artifact. From what we've been able to gather, it's in a building of greco-roman design within the pre-fall city of Chicago. With your considerable reputation, such details should be more than enough."

Whatever petty squabbling David and Liz were about to take part in died right there, at the mention of the artifact's resting place.

“What did you say?" Liz asked as if in disbelief, “Chicago?"

“Chicago." The stranger mirrored back.

David watched on in partially stunned silence as Liz stared bug eyed at the suited man.

“Do you realize the ridiculousness of what your telling us?" she asked after an uncomfortably long silence, “Distance aside, the path we'd have to take up there would lead us through some of the most heavily impacted regions on the eastern seaboard, and everyone knows the stories about Chicago itself. I mean-"

“Fifty million standard debt absolvers." He cut her off suddenly.

Doing another double take, Liz blinked before opening her mouth.

“Come again?"

“We are offering you a reward of fifty million standard debt absolvers upon the safe retrieval of Nighthawk, with an additional bonus should you see it through."

He picked up a large briefcase that David had previously not noticed, and after inserting a key drawn from his breast pocket, carefully opened it. Inside, he and Liz could see row upon row of neatly stacked slips of quartz with fine engravings carved into the surface; debt absolvers, otherwise known as debtas. They were valuable ones at that, seeing how most ordinary ones were crafted from either plastic or wood. Neither of them had to be telepathic to know what the other was thinking; with this amount of money they could lead any type of life they wanted, and that meant any. After allowing them to stare at their potential prize for a solid minute, the stranger reclosed the case and locked it tight again.

“If you accept this offer, I can give you the case now, and the key upon your completion of the task. I'm hoping this stresses to you how serious we are, especially considering the risk I took in carrying this kind of money around. And before you get any ideas, this is a Knox case; there's no way you're getting inside without the key. Still, just by parting with this case we are placing an enormous amount of trust in you, should you accept. Just know, if you're in, you're in; no backing out."

After taking a minute to chew over his words, David and Liz looked at each other in silent consideration. The job would be exceptionally dangerous, no doubt, but the potential reward was beyond their wildest dreams. Liz arched her brow plates in a clear indication of 'yes' or 'no', to which David nodded positively.

“Alright," she agreed, breathing heavily and turning back to the stranger, “we accept your offer."

For the first time since David laid eyes on him, the suited man allowed a smile to creep onto his face.

“Terrific. On behalf of my superior, I say thank you. Since my assumption is that this task is effective immediately, I can hand over the case to you now."

In turn, he did just that, and gave it to Liz, who cautiously accepted in, before momentarily pitching forward at the sheer weight.

“Remember, it's in a building of greco-roman design. Big columns, grand staircase, the whole schtick. I'll be waiting for your return in the local stronghold atop Pilot Mountain. I wish you good luck."

The stranger extended his arm for a handshake, which Liz took slowly, as if the wrong demeanor might screw up this once in a lifetime opportunity. David on the other hand, back to being rather careless, gripped down hard enough for an audible pop to emanate from between them, and caused a slight grimace to split the other man's face. Afterwards, shaking the pins and needles off his appendage, the stranger turned and walked off down the trail with a courtesy wave back. The pair were left alone again, with nothing else but the rustling of the trees around them.

"You think this is worth it?" David asked once the man was out of sight.

"As long as we play it safe, and don't get ourselves killed, then definitely. I'm more worried about that weirdo going back on his word, though I'm fairly confident you could take him if it came down to that."

"Heh, let's hope it doesn't."

"Agreed. I am curious as to what this whole 'Nighthawk' thing is, to be worth all this trouble." She said, scratching the tip of her snake-like snout.

"Best not to think too hard on it. So long as it ain't a nuke or some shit, who the hell cares? This is fifty million debtas we're talking about here!"

"Yeah you don't have to tell me, it sure as shit feels like it." Liz exclaimed, readjusting the bulky case rather pointedly.

"Would you like some help with that?" David asked sarcastically, after staring at her struggling form for a minute.

"Could you?" Her arm shot out to give him the hefty weight.

"Sure." He replied, taking it up for her.

"Alright then, let's get this party started. Seems like we've got bigger things to do today than clean up your mess."

"Will you shut up about that already?"

"Oh don't get so worked up you big baby. C'mon."

Grumbling in agitation, David followed her into the house.

***

That night, as heavy wind caused a series of creaks and groans to echo through the house, David and Liz sat at the kitchen table with a map spread over its surface. The light from the dim hanging lamp above cast shadows deep and heavy across the room. The sprawling piece of paper had numerous routes highlighted in differentiating colors crisscrossing their way along America. In certain places, drawings of mutated creatures, various other unpleasant inhabitants, and strange landmarks (proudly drawn by Liz), littered the old thing. A wickedly clawed finger slowly traced along a blue line that wound its way in a roundabout manner from where they were to as close a spot the trail took them to Chicago.

"I'm telling you David, the blue route is our best option." Liz stated firmly.

"Are you sure? It takes us awfully close to the Orion Crater." He questioned.

"We'll skirt the edge sure, but it's not like we're going to be cutting through it. We'll be doing a similar thing with the rest of the hazard zones that we encounter, skirt but not cut. Except for the Cinnamon Shaker of course, but that's pretty much unavoidable for where we're going."

"I just want to make sure that we're good here."

"I know, and trust me, while it's truly breathtaking to see you actually taking an interest for once, I've got this. This is my specialty; you'll surely get your moment to shine when something needs killing."

David didn't reply for a few moments, instead just staring intently at the map, and then glancing over to the briefcase of debtas at the edge of the table.

“Where do you think that guy was from?" Liz asked, gesturing to it.

“I don't know. Like I said earlier, it's best not to think too hard on it. Wherever it is, it's some place stable enough for him to earn billions of debtas to throw around like nothing."

“Or unstable enough to steal it."

“See, that right there is why you don't overthink these things. Again, so long as it isn't a WMD or a crate full of slaves, I couldn't care less about who he is and why he wants what he does. This is too much money on the line to let complex morality get in the way."

“Are we even sure that this is fifty million debtas though?"

“Heh, trust me, I already tried opening it. The guy wasn't lying when he said we wouldn't be getting in there without the key. Damn near snapped the crowbar in half earlier."

“Hmph, figures. ...You got your weapons and ammo ready to go?"

“Yeah. What about you, got everything we need?"

“Sure do. I was just putting the last of the canned food into the Peter Pan before we started mapping. Speaking of which, how's the old thing holding up mechanically?"

“The pan?" he asked rhetorically, “It's fine. The new titanium plating should hold out through just about anything, and the weld job on the projector's armor is still solid."

“How's the SSMR engines? No malfunctioning?"

“Nah, I gave it a short test drive while you were at the market. Glided like a kite."

“That's good," Liz nodded, “in that case we should be ready to leave by tomorrow afternoon. Truth be told, I've been itching to get out this dump since our last expedition."

“Oh you'll be missing this place after the first day, you always do."

“Don't put your own homesickness on me, I'll be just peachy." she shot back with a smirk.

“Yeah, we'll see about that." David smiled back.

"Really now, you're that confident? Well then, how about this bettin' man: if I make it the whole way without complaining about missing home, you've got to fork over five million debtas from your half of the reward."

"Now why would I do that? Even if you do get homesick, like I know you will, all you've gotta do is keep quiet about it. That's a fool's bet."

"Mhm, sure. Excuses excuses." She said smugly.

"Wow, you're one to talk about confidence. Fine, how 'bout this. I'll take the bet, but only if you agree to fork over ten million should you lose."

"Fine, deal."

"Yeah, fine."

"Fine."

"Shake on it then." He exclaimed, holding out a hand.

"Oh, I am so going to enjoy this extra money." Liz grinned, her arm extending.

Her taloned hand was engulfed in David's mammoth palm, and he shook a little fiercely as the two smiled mockingly at each other.

"Believe me," he started, "I'm going to enjoy your cut even more."

The two broke the handshake with mutual laughter, before collecting their things and heading off in opposite directions to bed for the night. It would be their last one spent here for a while, and even though their proposed games lifted their spirits, secretly, they couldn't shake the pressure of the task ahead. Tomorrow awaited, veiled behind the hazy landscape of the wastes, beckoning with it's promise of riches.

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