D
Draconias Galactica
Guest
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NOTE - The term for a Shadowland native is now Shadower. It was getting
too annoying to type out the word "Shadowlandian".
***
It was bad enough just to be stuck in the Shadowlands without a single
clue how to get out. But to also be stuck in a jail cell at the same
time was practically unbearable. Jake didn't seem to mind that, but
Hawks was having a hard time staying still.
"Just leave the escaping to me," Jake said, watching Hawks pace back
and forth. "Digging a hole with your feet isn't a good way to get out
of a second-floor jail cell."
"If you have a better idea, I'm waiting to hear it," Hawks muttered,
very annoyed at the situation.
"I'd tell you, but I'm sure the guard is only pretending to be sleeping
on the job!" Jake exclaimed, practically shouting the last part. The
guard for the floor, who had been sleeping at his desk outside the
cell, was awakened by Jake's outburst (as intended).
"Keep it down in there!" he shouted, angry at being woken up like that,
or at all.
"Don't worry, we'll be out of your hair in less than an hour," Jake
chuckled. The guard mumbled something under his breath and then went
back to sleep. Hawks, becoming tired of pacing, sat down on the floor.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"I've escaped from here before. I get thrown back in this very cell
just about every time I come to this city. Most of the other cells have
permanent residents in them."
"Oh...so we're _not_ here because they found the body Canine made.
We're here because of _you_."
"Sort of. I didn't do anything, this is just a way of getting me to
stay in one place long enough. There's always somebody with pull on
this sort of thing who wants to meet with me."
"I'm sure those cops you knocked out aren't going to cause us any
problems," Hawks muttered, displeased.
"Eh, minor offense. A small bri, er, _fine_ and it's forgotten."
"So why are we still here if you know how to get out? I have things to
do, like get out from under this damn cloud of yours."
"Why? Because it's not nighttime yet."
"What?"
"It's easier to escape at night." Hawks stared at Jake blankly for a
moment.
"How the hell can you tell that?!" he shouted incredulously, waking the
guard again.
"I said, _keep it down_!" the guard shouted, throwing a pencil at the
cell in frustration. It accomplished little. A moment later, the guard
laid back down on his desk. Jake walked over to Hawks, pointing to his
PipBoy.
"See those numbers?" Jake asked, pointing to the 24-hour clock. It was
an hour ahead of Hawks' for some reason. "That's how. Most of the
police are at home by 2200. I don't want to be caught again just when
we escaped."
"Good point, I suppose. I'm guessing we're not going to be able to hang
around this city much longer after we escape, right?"
"We'll have to stay clear of this place for awhile, yeah. Cops have a
short-term memory, but they do have _some_ memory. But before we run
off, we're going to need those horses. I'm in no mood to keep hiding in
caves from those raiders. I couldn't find anything that paid big
enough. Did Gray say anything about a job?"
"He said to send you his way. I don't know if he has anything worth
$5000, though. Maybe we should both take a job, combine the pay, and
then get the horses?"
"Nah, that wouldn't work. There's not two jobs I found that, combined,
would pay enough for two horses. Besides, I doubt you could handle
yourself in this place on your own yet."
"In combat, maybe, but I'd be fine in anything else."
"Not that it matters, but there wasn't an 'anything else' job. Most of
them were assassinations. There were a few offers to shovel crap,
though, if you want to prove your point."
"Nobody could pay me enough to do that," muttered Hawks. "So what do we
do if Gray's job doesn’t pay enough? Those horse things looked a bit
too big to steal."
"Theft definitely isn't an option. The horse and brahmin merchants are
like one big family under this 'damn cloud of mine'. If we piss of one
merchant, we piss of _all_ the merchants. And they tend to hire guards
with big, sharp swords."
"Damn." Hawks started pacing again, this time against the window. After
a few rounds, he noticed a dog on the ground below. Looking down, he
was almost certain it was Canine. "Hey, does that look like my dog to
you?" Jake didn't bother coming over to see.
"A dog's a dog."
"A dog's a dog, a bird's a bird. One day, you'll just say an animal's
an animal and we'll ride _rats_ instead of horses." Jake didn't respond
to that. Hawks turned around and found out why - four guards and a
woman had just entered the room. The woman - at least 30 years older
than Hawks and well dressed - was in charge of the guards, judging by
the way the guards stood.
"Hello Jaccob," the woman said. Jake walked over to the window by which
Hawks stood, his back to the woman.
"Ah hell...I didn't expect it to be _her_," he muttered.
"You know her?" Hawks asked.
"Yeah, sort of. Technically, she's my mother. By the way, take this,"
Jake said, taking out a shiv from what looked like thin air to hawks.
He grabbed the bars of the window, leaning the shiv along the bar
discreetly.
"What for? You want me to cut out the bars?"
"No, so I don't slit her throat with it. The cops _really_ don't like
murderers around here, they actually remember you if you do that."
"Jaccob, can't you even greet me?" asked his mother. Jake, not turning
around, made an obscene gesture with his hands. Meanwhile, Hawks
carefully took the shiv, making sure to not be noticed doing it. "I
want you to come home Jaccob. This rebellion of yours has gone on for
long enough. We've missed you."
"Go to hell," Jake said, still refusing to turn around and face her.
"It's not safe in the wastes," she continued, completely blocking out
what Jake said. It wasn't in the speech she had practiced. "You could
get hurt out there."
"Really? Maybe that's why I carry a really sharp sword." Again, his
mother ignored that part, since she hadn't rehearsed it.
"Your father would be disappointed in you. Running around out there
with no purpose - it's dangerous. Please, come back home."
"Again, go to hell." He turned to face Hawks. "Now, she turns around,
says something to the guard, and walks out."
"This happen to you often?" Hawks asked, as Jake's mother turned
around.
"Please, go easy on him," she said to the guard, ignoring the fact he
was asleep. She then walked out, the guards she brought with her
following after.
"Often enough. She always says the same thing. It's probably just to
make her feel better. Or it's because she's an idiot." Hawks checked
his PipBoy - there was about 15 minutes until they could escape. That
left him with only two options - pace, or ask an obvious question.
"So, what's your deal with her?"
"You probably don't want to know, it's simple but long."
"I don't really have anything better to do than annoy that guard."
"Good point, unfortunately. Anyways, it all started back about...I
don't remember, but it was aat least a decade ago. Me, my dad, and her
were all living here. My dad decided to go out on a walk, and I came
along with him. Have I lost you yet?"
"Like you said, it's simple."
"Damn, then I can't just stop, now can I? Oh well. So we headed out
westward, without any real destination in mind. It started getting
late, and he wasn't stopping to turn back. So we made camp, about
midway between the border and Crater Town. When morning came - don't
ask how he knew it was morning, he just did - we started back out
towards the west. After a few hours, we were just a few hundred feet
away from the border.
"I don't know why, then at least, but he was really pissed about
something. He started shouting at the barrier. I just stood back and
watched, I didn't have a clue what he was doing anyways. After about a
minute of that, he picked up a rock and started running towards the
barrier. When he was only about one hundred feet away, he threw the
rock. He had a terrific throwing arm, that's where I got mine from. And
I swear, in this crappy lighting, he hit one of those turrets with that
rock dead center between its guns."
"So what happened?"
"I told you the turrets attack people that get too close, didn't I?"
"Yeah, somewhere."
"Well, they also attack anybody who attacks them. The turret he hit
fired half a second later, and hit _him_ dead center in the
forehead. Its aim was even better than my dad's, apparently."
"That's, um, that's too bad."
"You don't have to tell me that, I was there. I dragged his body all
the way back to Crater Town before I realized what had happened." Jake
paused for a moment, catching his breath more than anything else. "Of
course, that doesn't really tell you what my deal is with her, now does
it?"
"Not really, you only mentioned her once so far."
"Okay, part two then. A few days later, I found out why my dad was
pissed. Mommy there had started screwing a politician, some guy
named Fredricks. Screwing anybody else was bad enough, but this
guy...ugh! A few years earlier, he had been called 'champion of the
lower class' or something like that because he had helped out those who
didn't make any money. It was some sort of program to give them food,
or money. I don't remember, I was a kid and I didn't pay much attention
to politics. Then, when re-election time came, he threatend to cancel
his program that was accomplishing that unless he was re-elected. He
made it sound less like a threat the way he said it, though."
"Sounds like a lot of outsiders I know," Hawks muttered. "Especially in
Vault City."
"Naturally, he got re-elected. He used that threat every time he needed
re-elected, and he only carried out the program a few months before he
was elected, and during campaign time. My dad was a really moral
person, and adultery with some leach like him was a bit too much for
him to take, I guess. The way I saw it, if my mom could dump my dad for
somw worthless shit like Fredricks, then she never really cared about
my dad. And she was a complete bitch."
"Ouch. She sounds like a lot of outsiders I know too."
"So that's why you're such a gloomy person," Jake said, jokingly. "Like
I said, I found out about they were screwing each other, so I left. I
just grabbed my things and ran off into the wastes. I left a note
behind for her first - I traced my hand with the middle finger up on a
sheet of paper for her and wrote underneath 'fuck you'."
"Nice touch."
"Yeah, I thought so too. Apparently, she thinks this is some kind of
rebellion. Idiot. Almost every time I come back here, she finds out and
uses her leach to get the cops to arrest me." Jake starred out the
window, down at the dog Hawks thought was Canine. After a moment, he
turned back to Hawks. "Anyways, don't say I didn't warn you that it was
long and boring."
"You never said anything about it being boring."
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you it was long. Luckily," said Jake,
looking down at his PipBoy, "it's time to go. Enough of this angsty
crap, let's get moving."
"Fine by me. Now how do we escape?"
"_We_? You mean, how do _I_ escape with you following behind, right?,"
chuckled Jake. He walked up to the door of bars at the front of the
cell. Taking a deep breath, he raised his leg and smashed his foot into
one of the bottom bars. It went flying out, though the noise still
didn't wake the guard. "They use cheap metal here," Jake shrugged.
"They sort of just glue them back in place every time I leave."
"Convenient," Hawks muttered. Jake turned back around and kicked out a
few more of the bars on the bottom of the door. After a minute or two,
there was a gap large enough to crawl through, which the two did.
"Stay with the guard. If he wakes up, change it."
"Gotcha." Hawks walked up to behind the guard and Jake ran down the
hall to a locker. Inside the locker, which wasn't even locked, were
most of the two's possessions.
"Hey Hawks, get down here. I got our stuff." The Chosen One left the
guard and ran down the hall to Jake. "Take your pick, there's plenty of
goods inside." Hawks took only his riffle, ammo, spear, and back-up
knife from inside. There wasn't anything else that looked like it would
be of any use to him.
Jake, on the other hand, took out a good deal of equipment. First, he
took out his jacket the police had confiscated and put it back on.
Then, he took out a collection of about nine knives and placed them in
his jacket, in his boots, and in straps on his leather armor (which
he wore under his jacket). Then, he took out two shurikens and placed
them in shoulder straps on his jacket. Finally, he took out his sword,
sheave, and belt, and put them back on.
"Sheesh, how many weapons do you carry?"
"I like being prepared," Jake shrugged, dismissing the question.
"What for, fighting twenty people at once? Where's the exit?"
"Follow me." Hawks did just that, and in a moment the two were outside
of the jail. No cops had seen them, and there didn't appear to be any
around. Most likely, they had all gone home for the night.
"Hey Jake, where was that alley Canine was in?" Hawks could see the
windows to multiple jail cells, but he couldn't tell which one was to
the cell he was just in. Without that as a reference points, he
couldn't figure out where the alley was.
"The dog ran off, forget him. We need to get to Gray's and get a job."
Before Hawks could object, Canine came running out of the alley he had
been in and to Hawks' feet.
"Hey, there you are. Pretty smart dog, don't you think?"
"How do you figure?"
"He ran off when there was danger and he knew he couldn't win."
"That's also the basic definition of a coward. What happened to that
vicious dog you were talking about?"
"Give him a chance. He's probably waiting for the right momment." Hawks
turned around and headed in the opposite direction the police had taken
them a while ago. Jake and Canine followed after him.
***
About twenty minutes later, the three of them were back at Gray's door.
The bar was still very busy - apparently the rat fights were popular.
"Jake, come on over here!" Gray shouted, when he saw the Shadower enter
the room.
"C'mon, he sounds like he has something big." Hawks nodded and the two
of them walked over to the bar. Canine walked over to a corner and lied
down.
"Hey old timer, what do you want?" Jake asked as he sat down on a
stool. The Chosen One followed suit.
"What was that whole bit with the cops last night about? You scared
away some good customers."
"Don't blame me, blame my reputation. Somebody always wants to have a
chat with me. Got any of the real stuff left?"
"Sure do," Gray said as he ducked down beneath the bar. He came back up
with two bottles of whiskey and gave one to Jake. The other, he drank
down himself.
"So what's this special job I hear you've been saving for us?"
"Ah, that. Ever hear of the Grim Reaper?"
"Yeah, some freaky skeleton with a sickle."
"Not that one, the guy by the same name who's been running around these
parts."
"Nah, never heard of that one."
"Well, apparently he's some sort of assassin for hire. And now a big
businessman up in the north part of town has somehow figured out he's
being targeted by this guy. Probably by the competition, or an ex."
"So we get the Reaper before he gets the businessman?"
"Exactly."
"And the pay?" Hawks asked, getting tired of just listening.
"This guy's desperate, apparently. Eight thousand if it’s done by
Friday."
"So where do we find this Reaper?" Jake inquired.
"Don't know. Rumor has it he's on the outside of town, near the east
gate. Some people have seen some freaky guy out there in a robe. That's
what he usually wears, acording to the rumors."
"Sounds good. Hawks, get the rest of our stuff from the room. I'll be
waiting outside."
"Yeah, sure." Hawks turned to the stairs and headed for room seven.
Jake finished off his drink quickly and walked out the door.
"Hawks," Gray said as the Chosen One came down. "A small warning, one I
_know_ Jake won't listen to. Nobody's stopped the Reaper so far, and
I've sent a lot of guys his way. Just remember, you can always back off
if you need to."
"Right," Hawks nodded. "We'll be back later for our pay." The Chosen
One headed out the door.
***
It didn't take long to reach the old western gate, only a few hours. It
was a never-finished wall that was originally "supposed to keep out
some raiders who were attacking that way," Jake explained as they
neared the gate.
"Why didn't they finish it?" Hawks asked.
"I think they ran out of money, or the Shadow Raiders moved on to Dry
Run River. Hey, does that look like him to you?" Jake pointed to a
figure he was past the incomplete gate.
"I don't see anything. What's he look like?"
"I can't tell that from this far away, I can just see a figure. Get
your weapon ready anyways." Hawks unstrapped his spear, and made sure
he still had his back-up knife ready. Jake made no move for his
weapons, nor did Canine for obvious reasons.
"I'll go around and try to get him from behind," Hawks said, not
waiting for Jake to agree. "You can distract him."
"Oh goody. Try to stay unnoticed. I'll tell you if it's him." Hawks
took off, stopping behind buildings as he went. A few seconds later,
Jake walked towards the Grim Reaper. Canine sat down and began
scratching himself.
Jake stopped about five feet away from the Reaper. The man was
completely hidden away in a large robe, and feeding a fire with some
twigs. Trees were uncommon in the Shadowlands, but they did exist in
some places. Many people carried around firewood with them. The Reaper
didn't have any visible weapons, and Jake could only guess what was
under that robe.
"Are you the Reaper?" he asked, laying his hand down on his sword's
hilt.
"What do you want Twilighter?" the robe asked. It was a low and raspy
voice. _Wonder how he can see me from under there_. There wasn't any
openings for eyes, as far as Jake could see.
"I want to know if you're the Reaper," Jake replied, this time grabbing
his sword. All he did was unsheave it and hold it by his side. The
Reaper stood up, still not showing any sign of a body underneath his
robe.
"If you have a job offer, wait till Friday. I'm in the middle of one
right now."
"I know. I'm here to cancel it. By words or by sword, it's your
choice."
"A little worm like _you_? Ridiculous."
"Wasn't really in a talking mood anyways," Jake muttered, nodding his
head. Behind the Reaper, Hawks aimed his spear and thrust it into the
robed one's heart from behind. The Reaper let out a small noise of
surprise as Hawks pulled the spear back out.
"You were gonna try to talk him out of it?" Hawks asked. "Next time,
tell me that! I probably could have pulled it off, and I wouldn't have
to clean my spear."
"It was just seemed like a dramatic line to say." Jake then noticed
something about Hawks' spear, which was soiled with the Reaper's blood.
"Hey Hawks," he said, pointing to the spear.
"What?" asked Hawks as he looked to where Jake pointed. He noticed what
Jake had almost immediately - the blood on the spear was _green_. "Um,
is that normal around here?"
"Only for a few critters, none of them human. What the hell's under
that cloak anyways?" Before Jake could remove it to find that out,
whatever was under the robe stood back up, to Hawks' and Jake's
surprise.
"You're both going to die," declared the Reaper in a cold, even voice.
"Sheesh, how am I supposed to aim for his heart with all those robes
covering him?" Hawks muttered, raising his spear again. The Reaper
turned around, presumably to face Hawks, and threw his robes off.
Underneath was a hairless man, not too tall and unnaturally thin. He
was wearing nothing but a pair of pants, and had no visible weapons.
Green blood was flowing down his chest and back from a wound where his
heart should be.
"How can he still be alive?" Jake asked, rhetorically.
"You have no idea with what you're dealing with," muttered the Reaper.
Hawks, who could see the Reaper's face, noticed his mouth didn't seem
move when he spoke. He shrugged it off and charged the Grim Reaper with
his spear. The steel head of the weapon never connected, as the Reaper
grabbed the rod of the weapon right before it pierced him. Hawks tried
to pull it back, but the frail-looking arms of his opponent were
surprisingly strong, even stronger than his own.
Jake silently raised his sword, and swung it at the Reaper's neck.
Somehow noticing this, the Reaper yanked Hawks spear out of the Chosen
One's hands and slammed the tail end of it across Jake's face. The
Shadower was knocked to the ground. After his spear was taken from him,
Hawks took out his back-up knife from its holster on his leg and tried
to stab the Reaper. The target blocked the knife by holding the spear
upright and slamming it into the ground. The knife lodged itself into
the staff of the weapon.
Not wasting any time, the Reaper flipped the spear up, hitting Hawks in
the gut with the tail end. As the Chosen One toppled over, the Reaper
broke the spear in half over his knee and threw the halves in opposite
directions. "Fall back," muttered Jake, getting back up. He and Hawks
quickly turned tail and ran back to the wall ruins. The Reaper slowly
walked after them, not seeming to be capable of any speed faster than
a walk.
"Damnit," Hawks gasped, catching his breath. "He's tougher than I
thought he'd be."
"Am I bleeding?" Jake asked, slamming his back to the wall.
"Just your nose."
"Good, then I'm fine. Listen, you stay here. I'm gonna try and take him
on by myself and I don't want to have to worry about you getting in the
way."
"How are you gonna beat him on your own? I'm coming with you."
"You don't even have a weapon anymore, remember?"
"Hell...well, you've got about 50 knives underneath that jacket. Can't
you spare two?" Jake muttered something nasty under his breath, and
then pulled two knives out of his jacket.
"If you're coming along, wait till I back off. You're likely to get
your head chopped off if you get too close."
"If you can knock him down and then back off, I can probably get off a
few shots at him," Hawks said, nodding his head to the riffle strapped
on his back. "Just get him to stay still long enough for me to aim."
"That probably won't happen. If you can pull it off though, go for it.
Let's go." The two ran out from behind the cover of the wall and up to
the Grim Reaper, who was still only midway between where he started and
the wall. Hawks backed up a bit as Jake took out his sword.
Before the Shadower could attack, though, the Reaper let out a gigantic
yell that stopped Jake dead in his tracks. This yell lasted for about
ten seconds. When he was done, the Reaper seemed to be glowing green.
"This is one weird day," Hawks muttered.
"Radiated freak," said Jake as he resumed his charge against the Grim
Reaper. He swung his sword at the Grim Reaper's shoulder, but it never
struck its target. By the time Jake swung his sword, the Reaper had
already leapt back and the sword hit thin air. Jake brought his sword
back up and thrust it at the Reaper's bleeding chest, figuring another
wound there would hopefully make the Reaper bleed to death sooner. Once
again, the Grim Reaper leapt back before Jake could reach him.
Seeing his need for greater range, Jake threw one of the shurikens on
his shoulder at the Reaper. In the split second he had to react, the
Reaper leapt high into the air. The shuriken passed harmlessly
underneath him. "Go!" Jake yelled, unfazed by the titanic leap.
Hawks was already a step ahead - he had taken out his riffle the moment
Jake switched to thrown weapons. It was easy to aim at the glowing
target at the nigh-hovering apex of his jump - at which he was about 12
feet off the ground. Hawks fired twice, and both bullets hit the Reaper
in the chest.
As the force of impact send the Reaper flying backwards to the ground,
Jake ran up with his sword in hand. The moment the Grim Reaper hit the
ground, Jake raised and then plunged his sword into the chest of the
creature. Hawks walked up to him. "Tough guy, huh?" the Chosen One
asked.
"Yeah. Must have been some sort of mutation. Maybe he doesn't need
blood or feel pain or something." Before Jake could speculate further,
the Reaper opened his eyes and stood back up.
"Shit, doesn't this guy die?" Hawks asked, barely able to believe what
he was seeing. Jake yanked his sword out of his enemy's chest and
slashed ferociously at any of the Reaper's body parts he could aim at.
Hawks wisely backed off quickly, barely staying clear of Jake's rapidly
flying sword. The Shadower hit the Reaper several times, cutting into
his flesh each time. Blood began flowing like a waterfall from his
chest, and several strips of flesh were torn off & went flying. After
about fifteen seconds of this rapid attack, the Reaper regained his
composure and landed a solid punch on Jake's face, sending him tumbling
back a few feet.
"Shit, huh? That seems like a good word right now," Jake muttered,
picking himself back up.
"Retreat!" Hawks yelled, already halfway back to the wall. Jake turned
tail and ran as well a moment later, stopping only to grab his sword he
had lost during his fall. The Reaper slowly began following after the
two, in no hurry and seeming to be neither affected by the massive
blood loss or feeling any pain.
Hawks slammed his back to the wall and reloaded his riffle. Jake knelt
down and started brushing his face off. "You two look like hell," a
voice said. Hawks turned around and saw Canine sitting and staring at
the two.
"Did he just talk?" Hawks asked Jake. "I swear, I just heard him talk."
"Unbelievable."
"That he can talk? Or that that Reaper guy is still standing?"
"No, unbelievable that I have a partner more concerned over whether or
not a dog is talking than about the unkillable mutant that's probably
going to take his time killing us! Just unbelievable."
"Shut up. We need a plan."
"I tried mine already, but 'kill the bastard' doesn't seem to work.
First time that plan's ever failed." Hawks thought for a few seconds,
reviewing their options. Unfortunatly, the only two he could see at
this rate were stay there and die, or...
"We run then. He doesn't look too fast, and we're not gonna get paid if
we're dead. If he isn't dead from all that damage, I don't know what
can kill him."
"Let me ask you something - if you had your chest cut open and lost
almost all of your blood, would you just let whoever did that go? He
might not be running now, but that doesn't mean he can't. The way this
day's going, he can fly too." Almost on cue, the Reaper let out a yell.
Glancing over the wall, Hawks and Jake could see that the Reaper was
now hovering a few feet above the ground.
"_Now_ I'm impressed," Hawks said, whistling in amazement. A second
later, the Reaper let out another yell, but this time it sounded
painful. He threw his hands over his ears, and fell back down to the
dirt.
"Think not having any blood's catching up to him?" Jake asked, not sure
what to make of what just happened.
"This is probably a stupid idea, but what the hell?" Hawks asked
rhetorically, right before starting to whistle. The Reaper continued to
scream in pain and try to block out the noise that was causing it.
After about half a minute of whistling, the Reaper stopped glowing. The
blood that was flowing from his chest also began to change color, from
green to red.
"Well I'll be damned," Jake muttered, very suprised at what he was
seeing.
"Go!" Hawks shouted, stopping briefly to get Jake into action before
whistling again. Jake nodded his head and rushed off towards the
Reaper.
Below him, the Reaper screamed in agony, rolling over several times.
Jake raised his sword, and brought it down in the only weak spot that
wasn't already bleeding - the Reaper's head. The sword penetrated his
skull, and the Reaper fell silent. Hawks and Canine walked up a moment
later, the former with his riffle drawn and aimed.
"Think he's dead?" Hawks asked, keeping his riffle aimed at the
Reaper's head.
"I think I know a way to make sure," Jake said, pulling his sword back
out of the head. He dragged the body of the Reaper over to a nearby
stone, and laid the possibly dead one's head down on the stone. With
one quick swing of the sword, the Reaper was beheaded. Jake waited a
minute before nudging the body with his foot. There was no response.
"Yeah, he's dead. You can put a few more bullet's in him if you want to
make sure."
"Nah, I gotta save my ammo. My spear's wrecked," Hawks admitted, not
even sure where the two halves of his broken spear were. "I don't have
any other weapon now."
"And because of that, you can drag the corpse back. You have less to
carry, you can handle it."
"We're bringing this with us?"
"Our employer probably wants proof this guy's dead. We've got an ass-
load of proof right here. You might want to wrap in back up in that
robe of his, people tend to look at you funny if you drag a corpse
behind you around here."
"I'm not touching that thing," Hawks said.
"You won the fight, and the winner gets to drag the corpse. Those are
the rules."
"If by drag you mean _loot_, then yeah."
"Just shut up and get the corpse. You owe me one, I got you out of
jail." Hawks sighed and began looking around for the robes. Jake
started off for Gray's bar.
"Hey, you got me _into_ jail in the first place!"
"C'mon, we're burning nightlight! We gotta get moving." Hawks muttered
something nasty under his breath and placed the corpse in the robes.
***
"What the hell is that smell?" Gray asked the moment Hawks and Jake
walked in the door.
"Interested in buying some more meat Gray?" Jake asked, walking over to
the bar. Hawks sat down at a nearby table, exhausted from dragging the
Reaper for so long. He laid the robed corpse down on the floor.
"Is that...the Reaper?"
"Spiced in his own blood, just like you like your meat."
"I can't believe you pulled that off. Hang on, I'll get that
businessman."
"He's here?"
"He's been hiding out on the rat-fight floor. Watch the bar for me."
Gray walked over to a door behind the bar that led to the second floor,
and headed down the stairs. Hawks dragged his feet over to the bar and
took a bottle of whisky off the shelf.
"That's the watered-down stuff," Jake pointed out.
"I know, and I don't care," Hawks stated, drinking the bottle down. "I
could use some water anyways." He took another drink. "There's got to
be an easier way to make money."
"There is, but it involves either fighting rats or getting naked and
screwing some ugly rich women. The first one isn't so bad, but the
second one...take it from me, _never_ do that for money.
It's...unpleasant."
"That's a pleasent image. Now I need some of the real stuff. How can
you tell the difference between them?"
"Simple, if you can get it without picking a lock, it's the watered-
down stuff."
"Great." Gray came back up a moment later, along with a man in dirty-
clothes who smelled like he had been among rats too long.
"This is your employer boys."
"I want to thank you for killing the Grim Reaper," he said, extending
his hand. Neither Hawks or Jake shook it, as it was covered in rat hair
and what looked disturbingly like rat crap. The businessman looked down
at his hand. "Oh," he whispered as he put his hand back in his pocket.
"Sorry, I haven't gotten out of that floor lately."
"Yeah, we guessed that," Jake muttered. "Now, about that eight
thousand."
"Of course. I'll need to see some proof first." Hawks sighed, finished
off the bottle, and walked over to the robe holding the corpse, which
he had left at his table. The other three walked over. Hawks opened the
robe up, revealing the barely recognizable form of the Reaper.
"Holy shit," Gray muttered, seeing the amount of blood on the Reaper's
chest. "What happened?"
"He didn't want to die," Jake shrugged. "It's kind of hard to tell
underneath all that stuff, but that's him."
"What's that green stuff on his chest?" the businessman asked.
"That's his blood," Hawks said. "So's the red stuff. It's, um, kind of
hard to explain."
"And you're sure he's dead?" Hawks, slightly intoxicated, picked up the
decapitated head of the Reaper.
"If you're alive, say something!" he shouted at the head. Surprisingly,
everyone went silent just to make sure the Reaper didn't say anything.
"He's dead."
"Or a convincing liar," Jake added. "So is that worth eight thousand to
you?"
"Definitely," the businessman said, digging into his pocket with his
semi-clean hand. He pulled out a bag. "That's eight thousand, more or
less. It's too cumbersome to count it out to get an exact number."
"Yeah, I know. Pleasure doing business with you. Gray, how long do we
have left on our room?"
"About four or five days," the bartender said, still staring at the
corpse.
"Okay, then I'm getting some sleep. You coming Hawks? I want to get out
of this town first thing tomorrow."
"Yeah." Hawks and Jake went up to their room, followed by Canine.
***
"This doesn't look very fast," Hawks said, looking over his horse. The
two had just bought their horses, which ran them about $6000 total, a
few hours ago. It had taken about three hours for Jake to teach Hawks
how to ride one.
"Trust me, they are."
"How am I supposed to get my dog on this?" he asked.
"Your problem, not mine. I told you I wasn't going to take care of
him." Hawks sighed and turned to face Canine. After about fifteen
minutes of struggling, he managed to get the dog to sit/stand in his
backpack. It took him almost as long to get onto himself onto his
horse.
"It's about time," Jake muttered.
"So where we heading now?"
"I want to stop by the Great Archives before we head to Dry Run River.
They got people over there who might be able to figure out what the
hell that _thing_ was," he said, motioning to the robed-corpse of the
Grim Reaper, tied onto his horse. He had decided to keep the body,
until he could find out what the creature had been.
"Fine by me. Maybe they know how to get out of this place."
"I doubt it. They don't mind living here. C'mon, let's get moving." The
three rode off out of Crater Town, bound northeast for the Great
Archives.
**** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ****
[P ALIGN=right]-Draconias Galactica
-http://upperpage.tripod.com
NOTE - The term for a Shadowland native is now Shadower. It was getting
too annoying to type out the word "Shadowlandian".
***
It was bad enough just to be stuck in the Shadowlands without a single
clue how to get out. But to also be stuck in a jail cell at the same
time was practically unbearable. Jake didn't seem to mind that, but
Hawks was having a hard time staying still.
"Just leave the escaping to me," Jake said, watching Hawks pace back
and forth. "Digging a hole with your feet isn't a good way to get out
of a second-floor jail cell."
"If you have a better idea, I'm waiting to hear it," Hawks muttered,
very annoyed at the situation.
"I'd tell you, but I'm sure the guard is only pretending to be sleeping
on the job!" Jake exclaimed, practically shouting the last part. The
guard for the floor, who had been sleeping at his desk outside the
cell, was awakened by Jake's outburst (as intended).
"Keep it down in there!" he shouted, angry at being woken up like that,
or at all.
"Don't worry, we'll be out of your hair in less than an hour," Jake
chuckled. The guard mumbled something under his breath and then went
back to sleep. Hawks, becoming tired of pacing, sat down on the floor.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"I've escaped from here before. I get thrown back in this very cell
just about every time I come to this city. Most of the other cells have
permanent residents in them."
"Oh...so we're _not_ here because they found the body Canine made.
We're here because of _you_."
"Sort of. I didn't do anything, this is just a way of getting me to
stay in one place long enough. There's always somebody with pull on
this sort of thing who wants to meet with me."
"I'm sure those cops you knocked out aren't going to cause us any
problems," Hawks muttered, displeased.
"Eh, minor offense. A small bri, er, _fine_ and it's forgotten."
"So why are we still here if you know how to get out? I have things to
do, like get out from under this damn cloud of yours."
"Why? Because it's not nighttime yet."
"What?"
"It's easier to escape at night." Hawks stared at Jake blankly for a
moment.
"How the hell can you tell that?!" he shouted incredulously, waking the
guard again.
"I said, _keep it down_!" the guard shouted, throwing a pencil at the
cell in frustration. It accomplished little. A moment later, the guard
laid back down on his desk. Jake walked over to Hawks, pointing to his
PipBoy.
"See those numbers?" Jake asked, pointing to the 24-hour clock. It was
an hour ahead of Hawks' for some reason. "That's how. Most of the
police are at home by 2200. I don't want to be caught again just when
we escaped."
"Good point, I suppose. I'm guessing we're not going to be able to hang
around this city much longer after we escape, right?"
"We'll have to stay clear of this place for awhile, yeah. Cops have a
short-term memory, but they do have _some_ memory. But before we run
off, we're going to need those horses. I'm in no mood to keep hiding in
caves from those raiders. I couldn't find anything that paid big
enough. Did Gray say anything about a job?"
"He said to send you his way. I don't know if he has anything worth
$5000, though. Maybe we should both take a job, combine the pay, and
then get the horses?"
"Nah, that wouldn't work. There's not two jobs I found that, combined,
would pay enough for two horses. Besides, I doubt you could handle
yourself in this place on your own yet."
"In combat, maybe, but I'd be fine in anything else."
"Not that it matters, but there wasn't an 'anything else' job. Most of
them were assassinations. There were a few offers to shovel crap,
though, if you want to prove your point."
"Nobody could pay me enough to do that," muttered Hawks. "So what do we
do if Gray's job doesn’t pay enough? Those horse things looked a bit
too big to steal."
"Theft definitely isn't an option. The horse and brahmin merchants are
like one big family under this 'damn cloud of mine'. If we piss of one
merchant, we piss of _all_ the merchants. And they tend to hire guards
with big, sharp swords."
"Damn." Hawks started pacing again, this time against the window. After
a few rounds, he noticed a dog on the ground below. Looking down, he
was almost certain it was Canine. "Hey, does that look like my dog to
you?" Jake didn't bother coming over to see.
"A dog's a dog."
"A dog's a dog, a bird's a bird. One day, you'll just say an animal's
an animal and we'll ride _rats_ instead of horses." Jake didn't respond
to that. Hawks turned around and found out why - four guards and a
woman had just entered the room. The woman - at least 30 years older
than Hawks and well dressed - was in charge of the guards, judging by
the way the guards stood.
"Hello Jaccob," the woman said. Jake walked over to the window by which
Hawks stood, his back to the woman.
"Ah hell...I didn't expect it to be _her_," he muttered.
"You know her?" Hawks asked.
"Yeah, sort of. Technically, she's my mother. By the way, take this,"
Jake said, taking out a shiv from what looked like thin air to hawks.
He grabbed the bars of the window, leaning the shiv along the bar
discreetly.
"What for? You want me to cut out the bars?"
"No, so I don't slit her throat with it. The cops _really_ don't like
murderers around here, they actually remember you if you do that."
"Jaccob, can't you even greet me?" asked his mother. Jake, not turning
around, made an obscene gesture with his hands. Meanwhile, Hawks
carefully took the shiv, making sure to not be noticed doing it. "I
want you to come home Jaccob. This rebellion of yours has gone on for
long enough. We've missed you."
"Go to hell," Jake said, still refusing to turn around and face her.
"It's not safe in the wastes," she continued, completely blocking out
what Jake said. It wasn't in the speech she had practiced. "You could
get hurt out there."
"Really? Maybe that's why I carry a really sharp sword." Again, his
mother ignored that part, since she hadn't rehearsed it.
"Your father would be disappointed in you. Running around out there
with no purpose - it's dangerous. Please, come back home."
"Again, go to hell." He turned to face Hawks. "Now, she turns around,
says something to the guard, and walks out."
"This happen to you often?" Hawks asked, as Jake's mother turned
around.
"Please, go easy on him," she said to the guard, ignoring the fact he
was asleep. She then walked out, the guards she brought with her
following after.
"Often enough. She always says the same thing. It's probably just to
make her feel better. Or it's because she's an idiot." Hawks checked
his PipBoy - there was about 15 minutes until they could escape. That
left him with only two options - pace, or ask an obvious question.
"So, what's your deal with her?"
"You probably don't want to know, it's simple but long."
"I don't really have anything better to do than annoy that guard."
"Good point, unfortunately. Anyways, it all started back about...I
don't remember, but it was aat least a decade ago. Me, my dad, and her
were all living here. My dad decided to go out on a walk, and I came
along with him. Have I lost you yet?"
"Like you said, it's simple."
"Damn, then I can't just stop, now can I? Oh well. So we headed out
westward, without any real destination in mind. It started getting
late, and he wasn't stopping to turn back. So we made camp, about
midway between the border and Crater Town. When morning came - don't
ask how he knew it was morning, he just did - we started back out
towards the west. After a few hours, we were just a few hundred feet
away from the border.
"I don't know why, then at least, but he was really pissed about
something. He started shouting at the barrier. I just stood back and
watched, I didn't have a clue what he was doing anyways. After about a
minute of that, he picked up a rock and started running towards the
barrier. When he was only about one hundred feet away, he threw the
rock. He had a terrific throwing arm, that's where I got mine from. And
I swear, in this crappy lighting, he hit one of those turrets with that
rock dead center between its guns."
"So what happened?"
"I told you the turrets attack people that get too close, didn't I?"
"Yeah, somewhere."
"Well, they also attack anybody who attacks them. The turret he hit
fired half a second later, and hit _him_ dead center in the
forehead. Its aim was even better than my dad's, apparently."
"That's, um, that's too bad."
"You don't have to tell me that, I was there. I dragged his body all
the way back to Crater Town before I realized what had happened." Jake
paused for a moment, catching his breath more than anything else. "Of
course, that doesn't really tell you what my deal is with her, now does
it?"
"Not really, you only mentioned her once so far."
"Okay, part two then. A few days later, I found out why my dad was
pissed. Mommy there had started screwing a politician, some guy
named Fredricks. Screwing anybody else was bad enough, but this
guy...ugh! A few years earlier, he had been called 'champion of the
lower class' or something like that because he had helped out those who
didn't make any money. It was some sort of program to give them food,
or money. I don't remember, I was a kid and I didn't pay much attention
to politics. Then, when re-election time came, he threatend to cancel
his program that was accomplishing that unless he was re-elected. He
made it sound less like a threat the way he said it, though."
"Sounds like a lot of outsiders I know," Hawks muttered. "Especially in
Vault City."
"Naturally, he got re-elected. He used that threat every time he needed
re-elected, and he only carried out the program a few months before he
was elected, and during campaign time. My dad was a really moral
person, and adultery with some leach like him was a bit too much for
him to take, I guess. The way I saw it, if my mom could dump my dad for
somw worthless shit like Fredricks, then she never really cared about
my dad. And she was a complete bitch."
"Ouch. She sounds like a lot of outsiders I know too."
"So that's why you're such a gloomy person," Jake said, jokingly. "Like
I said, I found out about they were screwing each other, so I left. I
just grabbed my things and ran off into the wastes. I left a note
behind for her first - I traced my hand with the middle finger up on a
sheet of paper for her and wrote underneath 'fuck you'."
"Nice touch."
"Yeah, I thought so too. Apparently, she thinks this is some kind of
rebellion. Idiot. Almost every time I come back here, she finds out and
uses her leach to get the cops to arrest me." Jake starred out the
window, down at the dog Hawks thought was Canine. After a moment, he
turned back to Hawks. "Anyways, don't say I didn't warn you that it was
long and boring."
"You never said anything about it being boring."
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you it was long. Luckily," said Jake,
looking down at his PipBoy, "it's time to go. Enough of this angsty
crap, let's get moving."
"Fine by me. Now how do we escape?"
"_We_? You mean, how do _I_ escape with you following behind, right?,"
chuckled Jake. He walked up to the door of bars at the front of the
cell. Taking a deep breath, he raised his leg and smashed his foot into
one of the bottom bars. It went flying out, though the noise still
didn't wake the guard. "They use cheap metal here," Jake shrugged.
"They sort of just glue them back in place every time I leave."
"Convenient," Hawks muttered. Jake turned back around and kicked out a
few more of the bars on the bottom of the door. After a minute or two,
there was a gap large enough to crawl through, which the two did.
"Stay with the guard. If he wakes up, change it."
"Gotcha." Hawks walked up to behind the guard and Jake ran down the
hall to a locker. Inside the locker, which wasn't even locked, were
most of the two's possessions.
"Hey Hawks, get down here. I got our stuff." The Chosen One left the
guard and ran down the hall to Jake. "Take your pick, there's plenty of
goods inside." Hawks took only his riffle, ammo, spear, and back-up
knife from inside. There wasn't anything else that looked like it would
be of any use to him.
Jake, on the other hand, took out a good deal of equipment. First, he
took out his jacket the police had confiscated and put it back on.
Then, he took out a collection of about nine knives and placed them in
his jacket, in his boots, and in straps on his leather armor (which
he wore under his jacket). Then, he took out two shurikens and placed
them in shoulder straps on his jacket. Finally, he took out his sword,
sheave, and belt, and put them back on.
"Sheesh, how many weapons do you carry?"
"I like being prepared," Jake shrugged, dismissing the question.
"What for, fighting twenty people at once? Where's the exit?"
"Follow me." Hawks did just that, and in a moment the two were outside
of the jail. No cops had seen them, and there didn't appear to be any
around. Most likely, they had all gone home for the night.
"Hey Jake, where was that alley Canine was in?" Hawks could see the
windows to multiple jail cells, but he couldn't tell which one was to
the cell he was just in. Without that as a reference points, he
couldn't figure out where the alley was.
"The dog ran off, forget him. We need to get to Gray's and get a job."
Before Hawks could object, Canine came running out of the alley he had
been in and to Hawks' feet.
"Hey, there you are. Pretty smart dog, don't you think?"
"How do you figure?"
"He ran off when there was danger and he knew he couldn't win."
"That's also the basic definition of a coward. What happened to that
vicious dog you were talking about?"
"Give him a chance. He's probably waiting for the right momment." Hawks
turned around and headed in the opposite direction the police had taken
them a while ago. Jake and Canine followed after him.
***
About twenty minutes later, the three of them were back at Gray's door.
The bar was still very busy - apparently the rat fights were popular.
"Jake, come on over here!" Gray shouted, when he saw the Shadower enter
the room.
"C'mon, he sounds like he has something big." Hawks nodded and the two
of them walked over to the bar. Canine walked over to a corner and lied
down.
"Hey old timer, what do you want?" Jake asked as he sat down on a
stool. The Chosen One followed suit.
"What was that whole bit with the cops last night about? You scared
away some good customers."
"Don't blame me, blame my reputation. Somebody always wants to have a
chat with me. Got any of the real stuff left?"
"Sure do," Gray said as he ducked down beneath the bar. He came back up
with two bottles of whiskey and gave one to Jake. The other, he drank
down himself.
"So what's this special job I hear you've been saving for us?"
"Ah, that. Ever hear of the Grim Reaper?"
"Yeah, some freaky skeleton with a sickle."
"Not that one, the guy by the same name who's been running around these
parts."
"Nah, never heard of that one."
"Well, apparently he's some sort of assassin for hire. And now a big
businessman up in the north part of town has somehow figured out he's
being targeted by this guy. Probably by the competition, or an ex."
"So we get the Reaper before he gets the businessman?"
"Exactly."
"And the pay?" Hawks asked, getting tired of just listening.
"This guy's desperate, apparently. Eight thousand if it’s done by
Friday."
"So where do we find this Reaper?" Jake inquired.
"Don't know. Rumor has it he's on the outside of town, near the east
gate. Some people have seen some freaky guy out there in a robe. That's
what he usually wears, acording to the rumors."
"Sounds good. Hawks, get the rest of our stuff from the room. I'll be
waiting outside."
"Yeah, sure." Hawks turned to the stairs and headed for room seven.
Jake finished off his drink quickly and walked out the door.
"Hawks," Gray said as the Chosen One came down. "A small warning, one I
_know_ Jake won't listen to. Nobody's stopped the Reaper so far, and
I've sent a lot of guys his way. Just remember, you can always back off
if you need to."
"Right," Hawks nodded. "We'll be back later for our pay." The Chosen
One headed out the door.
***
It didn't take long to reach the old western gate, only a few hours. It
was a never-finished wall that was originally "supposed to keep out
some raiders who were attacking that way," Jake explained as they
neared the gate.
"Why didn't they finish it?" Hawks asked.
"I think they ran out of money, or the Shadow Raiders moved on to Dry
Run River. Hey, does that look like him to you?" Jake pointed to a
figure he was past the incomplete gate.
"I don't see anything. What's he look like?"
"I can't tell that from this far away, I can just see a figure. Get
your weapon ready anyways." Hawks unstrapped his spear, and made sure
he still had his back-up knife ready. Jake made no move for his
weapons, nor did Canine for obvious reasons.
"I'll go around and try to get him from behind," Hawks said, not
waiting for Jake to agree. "You can distract him."
"Oh goody. Try to stay unnoticed. I'll tell you if it's him." Hawks
took off, stopping behind buildings as he went. A few seconds later,
Jake walked towards the Grim Reaper. Canine sat down and began
scratching himself.
Jake stopped about five feet away from the Reaper. The man was
completely hidden away in a large robe, and feeding a fire with some
twigs. Trees were uncommon in the Shadowlands, but they did exist in
some places. Many people carried around firewood with them. The Reaper
didn't have any visible weapons, and Jake could only guess what was
under that robe.
"Are you the Reaper?" he asked, laying his hand down on his sword's
hilt.
"What do you want Twilighter?" the robe asked. It was a low and raspy
voice. _Wonder how he can see me from under there_. There wasn't any
openings for eyes, as far as Jake could see.
"I want to know if you're the Reaper," Jake replied, this time grabbing
his sword. All he did was unsheave it and hold it by his side. The
Reaper stood up, still not showing any sign of a body underneath his
robe.
"If you have a job offer, wait till Friday. I'm in the middle of one
right now."
"I know. I'm here to cancel it. By words or by sword, it's your
choice."
"A little worm like _you_? Ridiculous."
"Wasn't really in a talking mood anyways," Jake muttered, nodding his
head. Behind the Reaper, Hawks aimed his spear and thrust it into the
robed one's heart from behind. The Reaper let out a small noise of
surprise as Hawks pulled the spear back out.
"You were gonna try to talk him out of it?" Hawks asked. "Next time,
tell me that! I probably could have pulled it off, and I wouldn't have
to clean my spear."
"It was just seemed like a dramatic line to say." Jake then noticed
something about Hawks' spear, which was soiled with the Reaper's blood.
"Hey Hawks," he said, pointing to the spear.
"What?" asked Hawks as he looked to where Jake pointed. He noticed what
Jake had almost immediately - the blood on the spear was _green_. "Um,
is that normal around here?"
"Only for a few critters, none of them human. What the hell's under
that cloak anyways?" Before Jake could remove it to find that out,
whatever was under the robe stood back up, to Hawks' and Jake's
surprise.
"You're both going to die," declared the Reaper in a cold, even voice.
"Sheesh, how am I supposed to aim for his heart with all those robes
covering him?" Hawks muttered, raising his spear again. The Reaper
turned around, presumably to face Hawks, and threw his robes off.
Underneath was a hairless man, not too tall and unnaturally thin. He
was wearing nothing but a pair of pants, and had no visible weapons.
Green blood was flowing down his chest and back from a wound where his
heart should be.
"How can he still be alive?" Jake asked, rhetorically.
"You have no idea with what you're dealing with," muttered the Reaper.
Hawks, who could see the Reaper's face, noticed his mouth didn't seem
move when he spoke. He shrugged it off and charged the Grim Reaper with
his spear. The steel head of the weapon never connected, as the Reaper
grabbed the rod of the weapon right before it pierced him. Hawks tried
to pull it back, but the frail-looking arms of his opponent were
surprisingly strong, even stronger than his own.
Jake silently raised his sword, and swung it at the Reaper's neck.
Somehow noticing this, the Reaper yanked Hawks spear out of the Chosen
One's hands and slammed the tail end of it across Jake's face. The
Shadower was knocked to the ground. After his spear was taken from him,
Hawks took out his back-up knife from its holster on his leg and tried
to stab the Reaper. The target blocked the knife by holding the spear
upright and slamming it into the ground. The knife lodged itself into
the staff of the weapon.
Not wasting any time, the Reaper flipped the spear up, hitting Hawks in
the gut with the tail end. As the Chosen One toppled over, the Reaper
broke the spear in half over his knee and threw the halves in opposite
directions. "Fall back," muttered Jake, getting back up. He and Hawks
quickly turned tail and ran back to the wall ruins. The Reaper slowly
walked after them, not seeming to be capable of any speed faster than
a walk.
"Damnit," Hawks gasped, catching his breath. "He's tougher than I
thought he'd be."
"Am I bleeding?" Jake asked, slamming his back to the wall.
"Just your nose."
"Good, then I'm fine. Listen, you stay here. I'm gonna try and take him
on by myself and I don't want to have to worry about you getting in the
way."
"How are you gonna beat him on your own? I'm coming with you."
"You don't even have a weapon anymore, remember?"
"Hell...well, you've got about 50 knives underneath that jacket. Can't
you spare two?" Jake muttered something nasty under his breath, and
then pulled two knives out of his jacket.
"If you're coming along, wait till I back off. You're likely to get
your head chopped off if you get too close."
"If you can knock him down and then back off, I can probably get off a
few shots at him," Hawks said, nodding his head to the riffle strapped
on his back. "Just get him to stay still long enough for me to aim."
"That probably won't happen. If you can pull it off though, go for it.
Let's go." The two ran out from behind the cover of the wall and up to
the Grim Reaper, who was still only midway between where he started and
the wall. Hawks backed up a bit as Jake took out his sword.
Before the Shadower could attack, though, the Reaper let out a gigantic
yell that stopped Jake dead in his tracks. This yell lasted for about
ten seconds. When he was done, the Reaper seemed to be glowing green.
"This is one weird day," Hawks muttered.
"Radiated freak," said Jake as he resumed his charge against the Grim
Reaper. He swung his sword at the Grim Reaper's shoulder, but it never
struck its target. By the time Jake swung his sword, the Reaper had
already leapt back and the sword hit thin air. Jake brought his sword
back up and thrust it at the Reaper's bleeding chest, figuring another
wound there would hopefully make the Reaper bleed to death sooner. Once
again, the Grim Reaper leapt back before Jake could reach him.
Seeing his need for greater range, Jake threw one of the shurikens on
his shoulder at the Reaper. In the split second he had to react, the
Reaper leapt high into the air. The shuriken passed harmlessly
underneath him. "Go!" Jake yelled, unfazed by the titanic leap.
Hawks was already a step ahead - he had taken out his riffle the moment
Jake switched to thrown weapons. It was easy to aim at the glowing
target at the nigh-hovering apex of his jump - at which he was about 12
feet off the ground. Hawks fired twice, and both bullets hit the Reaper
in the chest.
As the force of impact send the Reaper flying backwards to the ground,
Jake ran up with his sword in hand. The moment the Grim Reaper hit the
ground, Jake raised and then plunged his sword into the chest of the
creature. Hawks walked up to him. "Tough guy, huh?" the Chosen One
asked.
"Yeah. Must have been some sort of mutation. Maybe he doesn't need
blood or feel pain or something." Before Jake could speculate further,
the Reaper opened his eyes and stood back up.
"Shit, doesn't this guy die?" Hawks asked, barely able to believe what
he was seeing. Jake yanked his sword out of his enemy's chest and
slashed ferociously at any of the Reaper's body parts he could aim at.
Hawks wisely backed off quickly, barely staying clear of Jake's rapidly
flying sword. The Shadower hit the Reaper several times, cutting into
his flesh each time. Blood began flowing like a waterfall from his
chest, and several strips of flesh were torn off & went flying. After
about fifteen seconds of this rapid attack, the Reaper regained his
composure and landed a solid punch on Jake's face, sending him tumbling
back a few feet.
"Shit, huh? That seems like a good word right now," Jake muttered,
picking himself back up.
"Retreat!" Hawks yelled, already halfway back to the wall. Jake turned
tail and ran as well a moment later, stopping only to grab his sword he
had lost during his fall. The Reaper slowly began following after the
two, in no hurry and seeming to be neither affected by the massive
blood loss or feeling any pain.
Hawks slammed his back to the wall and reloaded his riffle. Jake knelt
down and started brushing his face off. "You two look like hell," a
voice said. Hawks turned around and saw Canine sitting and staring at
the two.
"Did he just talk?" Hawks asked Jake. "I swear, I just heard him talk."
"Unbelievable."
"That he can talk? Or that that Reaper guy is still standing?"
"No, unbelievable that I have a partner more concerned over whether or
not a dog is talking than about the unkillable mutant that's probably
going to take his time killing us! Just unbelievable."
"Shut up. We need a plan."
"I tried mine already, but 'kill the bastard' doesn't seem to work.
First time that plan's ever failed." Hawks thought for a few seconds,
reviewing their options. Unfortunatly, the only two he could see at
this rate were stay there and die, or...
"We run then. He doesn't look too fast, and we're not gonna get paid if
we're dead. If he isn't dead from all that damage, I don't know what
can kill him."
"Let me ask you something - if you had your chest cut open and lost
almost all of your blood, would you just let whoever did that go? He
might not be running now, but that doesn't mean he can't. The way this
day's going, he can fly too." Almost on cue, the Reaper let out a yell.
Glancing over the wall, Hawks and Jake could see that the Reaper was
now hovering a few feet above the ground.
"_Now_ I'm impressed," Hawks said, whistling in amazement. A second
later, the Reaper let out another yell, but this time it sounded
painful. He threw his hands over his ears, and fell back down to the
dirt.
"Think not having any blood's catching up to him?" Jake asked, not sure
what to make of what just happened.
"This is probably a stupid idea, but what the hell?" Hawks asked
rhetorically, right before starting to whistle. The Reaper continued to
scream in pain and try to block out the noise that was causing it.
After about half a minute of whistling, the Reaper stopped glowing. The
blood that was flowing from his chest also began to change color, from
green to red.
"Well I'll be damned," Jake muttered, very suprised at what he was
seeing.
"Go!" Hawks shouted, stopping briefly to get Jake into action before
whistling again. Jake nodded his head and rushed off towards the
Reaper.
Below him, the Reaper screamed in agony, rolling over several times.
Jake raised his sword, and brought it down in the only weak spot that
wasn't already bleeding - the Reaper's head. The sword penetrated his
skull, and the Reaper fell silent. Hawks and Canine walked up a moment
later, the former with his riffle drawn and aimed.
"Think he's dead?" Hawks asked, keeping his riffle aimed at the
Reaper's head.
"I think I know a way to make sure," Jake said, pulling his sword back
out of the head. He dragged the body of the Reaper over to a nearby
stone, and laid the possibly dead one's head down on the stone. With
one quick swing of the sword, the Reaper was beheaded. Jake waited a
minute before nudging the body with his foot. There was no response.
"Yeah, he's dead. You can put a few more bullet's in him if you want to
make sure."
"Nah, I gotta save my ammo. My spear's wrecked," Hawks admitted, not
even sure where the two halves of his broken spear were. "I don't have
any other weapon now."
"And because of that, you can drag the corpse back. You have less to
carry, you can handle it."
"We're bringing this with us?"
"Our employer probably wants proof this guy's dead. We've got an ass-
load of proof right here. You might want to wrap in back up in that
robe of his, people tend to look at you funny if you drag a corpse
behind you around here."
"I'm not touching that thing," Hawks said.
"You won the fight, and the winner gets to drag the corpse. Those are
the rules."
"If by drag you mean _loot_, then yeah."
"Just shut up and get the corpse. You owe me one, I got you out of
jail." Hawks sighed and began looking around for the robes. Jake
started off for Gray's bar.
"Hey, you got me _into_ jail in the first place!"
"C'mon, we're burning nightlight! We gotta get moving." Hawks muttered
something nasty under his breath and placed the corpse in the robes.
***
"What the hell is that smell?" Gray asked the moment Hawks and Jake
walked in the door.
"Interested in buying some more meat Gray?" Jake asked, walking over to
the bar. Hawks sat down at a nearby table, exhausted from dragging the
Reaper for so long. He laid the robed corpse down on the floor.
"Is that...the Reaper?"
"Spiced in his own blood, just like you like your meat."
"I can't believe you pulled that off. Hang on, I'll get that
businessman."
"He's here?"
"He's been hiding out on the rat-fight floor. Watch the bar for me."
Gray walked over to a door behind the bar that led to the second floor,
and headed down the stairs. Hawks dragged his feet over to the bar and
took a bottle of whisky off the shelf.
"That's the watered-down stuff," Jake pointed out.
"I know, and I don't care," Hawks stated, drinking the bottle down. "I
could use some water anyways." He took another drink. "There's got to
be an easier way to make money."
"There is, but it involves either fighting rats or getting naked and
screwing some ugly rich women. The first one isn't so bad, but the
second one...take it from me, _never_ do that for money.
It's...unpleasant."
"That's a pleasent image. Now I need some of the real stuff. How can
you tell the difference between them?"
"Simple, if you can get it without picking a lock, it's the watered-
down stuff."
"Great." Gray came back up a moment later, along with a man in dirty-
clothes who smelled like he had been among rats too long.
"This is your employer boys."
"I want to thank you for killing the Grim Reaper," he said, extending
his hand. Neither Hawks or Jake shook it, as it was covered in rat hair
and what looked disturbingly like rat crap. The businessman looked down
at his hand. "Oh," he whispered as he put his hand back in his pocket.
"Sorry, I haven't gotten out of that floor lately."
"Yeah, we guessed that," Jake muttered. "Now, about that eight
thousand."
"Of course. I'll need to see some proof first." Hawks sighed, finished
off the bottle, and walked over to the robe holding the corpse, which
he had left at his table. The other three walked over. Hawks opened the
robe up, revealing the barely recognizable form of the Reaper.
"Holy shit," Gray muttered, seeing the amount of blood on the Reaper's
chest. "What happened?"
"He didn't want to die," Jake shrugged. "It's kind of hard to tell
underneath all that stuff, but that's him."
"What's that green stuff on his chest?" the businessman asked.
"That's his blood," Hawks said. "So's the red stuff. It's, um, kind of
hard to explain."
"And you're sure he's dead?" Hawks, slightly intoxicated, picked up the
decapitated head of the Reaper.
"If you're alive, say something!" he shouted at the head. Surprisingly,
everyone went silent just to make sure the Reaper didn't say anything.
"He's dead."
"Or a convincing liar," Jake added. "So is that worth eight thousand to
you?"
"Definitely," the businessman said, digging into his pocket with his
semi-clean hand. He pulled out a bag. "That's eight thousand, more or
less. It's too cumbersome to count it out to get an exact number."
"Yeah, I know. Pleasure doing business with you. Gray, how long do we
have left on our room?"
"About four or five days," the bartender said, still staring at the
corpse.
"Okay, then I'm getting some sleep. You coming Hawks? I want to get out
of this town first thing tomorrow."
"Yeah." Hawks and Jake went up to their room, followed by Canine.
***
"This doesn't look very fast," Hawks said, looking over his horse. The
two had just bought their horses, which ran them about $6000 total, a
few hours ago. It had taken about three hours for Jake to teach Hawks
how to ride one.
"Trust me, they are."
"How am I supposed to get my dog on this?" he asked.
"Your problem, not mine. I told you I wasn't going to take care of
him." Hawks sighed and turned to face Canine. After about fifteen
minutes of struggling, he managed to get the dog to sit/stand in his
backpack. It took him almost as long to get onto himself onto his
horse.
"It's about time," Jake muttered.
"So where we heading now?"
"I want to stop by the Great Archives before we head to Dry Run River.
They got people over there who might be able to figure out what the
hell that _thing_ was," he said, motioning to the robed-corpse of the
Grim Reaper, tied onto his horse. He had decided to keep the body,
until he could find out what the creature had been.
"Fine by me. Maybe they know how to get out of this place."
"I doubt it. They don't mind living here. C'mon, let's get moving." The
three rode off out of Crater Town, bound northeast for the Great
Archives.
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[P ALIGN=right]-Draconias Galactica
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