The man had approached them straight out a crowd, interrupting a flight of fancy about black market gadgetry and the uses thereof as they were touring the midday market. Funny, Jackie found it, how nomads always seemed to be able to find one another like that and would strike up a conversation like they knew each other.
“Who do you ride with?”
This one was blunt and to the point. He was older than either of them, or maybe his life had simply been rough and the beard didn’t make him look any younger. A radiation scar that cut across his cheek and he moved with a heavy limp, speaking to the latter.
But if it were too blunt a question, V didn’t so much as bat an eyelash.
“Bakkers,” she replied with a shrug. “Used to.” With a cant of her head, she turned the question back on him. “You?”
“Oh, thank goodness,” the man said softly, in a rush of breath. “I ride with the Monaghan family. I need your help – a friend of mine is in trouble, I barely made it here myself, I’d almost lost hope of finding someone who could go back and get him.”
“I-...” V glanced at Jackie. “Um.”
He merely blinked at her unspoken question, and shrugged back. Like he was the expert, when it came to nomad business – all he knew was that if he didn’t agree with whatever the Monaghan guy was pitching, odds were, she’d run off without him anyway.
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “I’m listening.”
~*~
The sun was going down by the time they reached the coordinates. The crack in the ground was about ten feet deep, maybe half again as wide, and twice as long. The floor was jagged in places, claws or teeth of stone twisting out of the sand that had been swept into the gap over the years, and a smooth slab of rock jutted out of the ground amid them. A darkened hollow cut into the wall at one end, the opening of a narrow cave or crevasse leading deeper into the earth.
It was easy to see how someone could get trapped. And how someone had. The form of a man was crumpled on the bed of rock in the middle, gravely still.
“Looks like we might be too late,” Jackie said, as they crouched at the edge of the pit.
Beside him, V frowned, no doubt having come to the same conclusion. Still, she swung out over the stone wall and made her was down the rope, and Jackie followed her down.
No harm in being thorough.
Jackie loomed over her shoulder as she checked him over. But quickly enough, her shoulders slumped in defeat, and V rolled him over onto his back.
No bioscan, no pulse...
...no decay.
The light was growing dimmer, making it difficult to see, but Jackie nonetheless squinted at the man’s face, tracing the radiation scar that marked his left cheek above the line of his beard.
“Hey, V...? Is this or is this not the very same guy that asked us to come all the way out here to find his buddy?”
“Maybe... he came out here alone, after all...?”
Going by the tone of voice, let alone the expression on her face, V didn’t believe it either.
“And he somehow beat us out here?” Jackie asked.
She blinked at him. He glanced around them, further wondering aloud, “...and if he’s here, where’s this friend of his?”
There was a wrongness to this place, settling over them.
The sun was gone, and the sky was dark. The air around them felt heavy and unnaturally still. Stagnant.
His gaze was drawn to the hole in the wall; a wound in the rock, that seemed to be bleeding a darkened emptiness.
“Jack...?”
There was a quiet uneasiness in her voice, and the sheer silence itself seemed to shiver with the same frequency as the icy chill that went up his spine.
“I’m thinkin’ we should delta.”
“Shouldn’t we bring him with us...?” V glanced over, to the man on the outcropping, “I....”
A draft of warm air poured up from the cave, and pooled like water along the floor of the pit.
Jackie grabbed her arm, dragging her along with him.
“¡Vamos! Now, por favor.”
V twisted out of his grip, and he shouted after her as she bolted back to the dead man. She made quick work of peeling off the jacket he wore and shrugging it on.
“Great,” Jackie told her, as she rejoined him at the wall. “Very fashionable. Now up up up,” he stooped to give her a boost to the top. “Go.”
She scrambled up, and he wasted no time to drag himself up the rope until he could reach the top. Glancing over his shoulder, he nearly lost his grip, and only caught himself as he felt V trying to help haul him up. With a heavy kick against the wall beneath his foot, he made it over the ledge.
He made a blind grab for her hand, and dragged her along behind him to the car. He shoved her towards the driver’s seat, and scrambled straight over the hood to the passenger’s side. He slid into the seat, and pulled the door closed after him.
V opened her mouth-....
“Drive,” he told her, before she could say a word. “Gracias y por favor.”
Without further argument, she started the engine, and the car jolted into motion.
Darkness closed in about them like a sandstorm.
They sped through the desert practically blind, a dreadful silence hanging between them as the radio spit static. Miles and miles of static later, and a song burst through noise.
The car slowed, and rolled to a stop a mile or two after.
V opened the door, leaning out to peer up at the star-filled sky over a wide-open desert, then fell heavily back into her seat. She looked back the way they had driven, best that maybe could be figured, through the rear window. And finally at Jackie.
“What... the fuck just happened?” she asked.
Jackie scoffed. “Yeah, you’re guess is as good as mine. I’m just gonna be thankful we got out of there in one piece.”
V stared at him, a blank incomprehension on her face, and it dawned on him.
“You didn’t see that thing, did you...? Hijo del diablo. And twice as ugly.”
V glanced back again, sharper this time. Jackie reached for her hand, and squeezed her fingers.
“I don’t fuckin’ know, and right now I’m not askin’ any questions. Alright?”
V swallowed, but nodded.
Jackie sighed.
“Good.”
~*~
She caught up with him in Vik’s alley, late the next day. Later than they had agreed, but at least she’d left him a message beforehand.
“I had a word with Dakota,” V told him.
“And?”
“And I asked her about the Monaghan family.”
“And...?” Jackie ventured, “No, let me guess, they don’t even exist.”
“Close.” V scratched the back of her neck, before explaining tentatively, “More like, no one’s heard from them in fifty years.”
Jackie stared at her as she smoothed her fingers over the family design on the shoulder of the jacket.
“Alright, that’s it – not another word.” He snatched the jacket from her hand, giving it a second harsh tug to free it when she didn’t think to let go.
“C’mon, Jackie – shouldn’t we at least try to-...”
“Try to what?” he asked, turning it over in his hands and wondering how well it would burn. The thing made his skin crawl. “Fuck with somethin’ shouldn’t be fucked with?”
“It’s probably just someone’s old jumpscare. Shouldn’t we at least try to... I don’t know, find a way to turn it off?”
Eyes narrowing, Jackie scowled at her.
“Promise me you won’t go out there again.”
V blinked at him, and her mouth curled into a pout.
“Promise me,” Jackie told her, in no uncertain terms.
V held out for half a moment longer, then shrugged.
“I promise.”
“Yeah, you promise; you promise what?”
“I promise I will not go back to the weird creepy hole in the ground, okay?”
“Alright,” Jackie agreed, rolling his shoulders as he felt some of the weight lift off.
“Besides, I already did,” V confessed. “Or... tried to.”
“What?”
“Thing is, I couldn’t find the place again.”
“...you what? Without me? Are you out of your-...?”
There was an aggravated sound in his throat, as he stumbled over his words. But the absurdity of what V was saying sunk in – a nomad scout unable to find what ought to have been a landmark in the badlands, if it hadn’t been so weird – and he grabbed her by the shoulder.
The jacket went into a burning barrel, and Jackie steered her towards the Esoterica’s back door.
~*~
The door to the stockroom slid open, and Misty blinked at them as Jackie pulled V inside.
“Hey Jackie,” she greeted them cheerfully, “Hey V.”
V shrugged him off, and Misty asked, “Is... everything okay?”
“Yes,” V answered.
“No,” Jackie told her.
“So... Maybe?” Misty suggested.
“Mira,” Jackie asked, “Do you think you could run like, a full spiritual scan?”
“A scan?”
“Mhhm. Shake out V’s aura, see if anything’s wonky?” he elaborated. “Maybe... a little preventative exorcism...? Just in case?”
V shrugged.
Misty glanced between them.
“I’m... sure I can do something,” she promised, with a bemused smile. With a little nod in that direction, she started towards her sitting space, and asked over her shoulder, “You wanna tell me what this is about?”
“Is this necessary?” V asked him, under her breath.
“Si. Es bueno para tu alma.”
Jackie tried to drag her forward. Only V didn’t budge. He sighed, deeply, and glanced down at her. “For my peace of mind, how about?”
V stared at him a moment longer. Then she closed her eyes, and squeezed his hand. And finally, she stepped past him to where Misty was waiting.
The woman brushed past her with a glamorous smile, and V’s attention was drawn from the elaborate makeup adorning her face to the luxurious red velvet of her dress as it swirled with each step.
V turned back towards the tent. Seated at the table under its shade, Jackie was rinsing an assortment brushes. He glanced up, and V came up short.
She blinked.
The skull he wore was darker than any she’d seen so far; less colorful, but no less masterfully painted. The bleakness of it chilled her to the marrow, if mitigated by the warmth of behind his eyes.
“Am... I still tripping balls,” V asked outright, “or is everything all... festive?”
“Maybe both,” Jackie ventured with a smirk. “But you’re not seein’ things.”
“Oh.” V nodded thoughtfully. She sank down on the bench across from him and leaned into her arms folded loosely upon the table, entranced in how the makeup twisted his wry expression further, making it something fierce.
“What?” he asked, “You don’t like it?”
“I’m not sure,” she stated.
The smile turned wistful, softening his expression, and Jackie cut a hand in front of his face, all encompassing.
“It’s for my grandfather,” he explained. “Well, for both-... all of ‘em, and... everyone, but... I been thinkin’ of him.” Absently, he scratched the back of his neck. “Taught me a lot. More than my father ever did, that’s for sure. Tough old son of a gun. Made it up past sixty, even... I should be so lucky.”
He went quiet for a moment, then fixed his eye on V and his smile returned, full-force. “You’d’ve liked him I think.”
V tried to imagine someone like Jackie, but older and more grizzled.
Her eyebrows knit together, and she glanced down at the table, at a loss.
“I never knew my grandfather,” she realized out loud.
“...gone before your time, huh?”
“No.” She looked up at him. Jackie’s confusion may have mirrored hers, and V elaborated, “Maybe. I’m not sure. I... never knew... anything about him. No one ever talked about him, not that I can remember.” She worked it out, out loud, “There was my father, my grandmother and my mother... I never knew her side of the family, either, but I knew they were out there, somewhere.”
V shook her head. Strange, now that she thought about it. “Total mystery.”
“Could ask, you know,” Jackie suggested. “The next time you see ‘em.”
“Never gonna happen.”
“Never know.”
“I...”
V leaned back, arms folded across her chest. She wasn’t going to argue – she didn’t know – but any conditions that put her back in contact with the clan weren’t likely to fall under favorable circumstances.
Jackie regarded her quietly. When no further argument proved forthcoming, he flicked his gaze around the tent, then back to her.
“C’mere,” he told her, drawing her out of her thoughts.
“...huh?”
“Come sit your ass down, over here,” Jackie elaborated, with a toss of his head. “C’mon.”
She did as he told her, settling back down in front of him. Up close, she could see the finer detail, the dots and swirls and the brushstrokes that went into the mask painted on his face. Underneath it, she could see Jackie, and the strange apprehension that had gripped her melted fully away.
She scoffed as he scrubbed her face with a soft, clean cloth.
“What... are you...?”
Jackie shushed her, and tossed the rag aside.
“Got inspired,” he told her. “You’ll see.”
V fidgeted, and stilled as his fingers came up under her chin. An uncertain smile faded from her lips as he got to work, and she watched his eyes, and the subtle variation in his expression, as he applied the makeup to her face, first in broad swathes followed by minute details, all with a single-mindedly focus.
Eventually, the time between brushstrokes began to stretch, and at long last Jackie made a lingering production of turning her head this way and that, as though double-checking his handiwork. He leaned back, and reached to slide a mirror that had been set aside across the table towards her.
V reached for it, dragging it closer before picking it up.
With a fleeting, self-satisfied smirk, Jackie retreated, and peered at her from behind his arms folded on the table.
V’s echoing smile grew pensive as she lifted the mirror, eyes meeting those of her reflection.
It was similar at least in its most basic design to the other skulls she had seen so far, only embellished with colors evoking a rich sunset over the desert, and bleeding into a dark, starlit night.
“In loving memory of the V whose life had to end so that this V’s life here in Night City could begin.”
There was a twinge in her chest. A pinprick in her heart, threatening to overflow.
V steadied the hitch in her breathing, taking it slow.
“It’s beautiful.”
Jackie shrugged, and put in, “If you want my opinion, it’s got next to nothing compared to the girl wearin’ it.”
“Yeah, well... I’d’ve figured you’d just write gonk on my forehead and be done with it.”
He snickered, and the warmth of it fluttered in her chest. She sobered again, quickly enough.
“I feel like it’s... like I’m gonna smudge it...”
“Hey, if you don’t,” Jackie remarked, almost under his breath, “I probably will by the end of the night.”
V’s eyebrows raised, and she tore her eyes away from the mirror to glance his way; before she could drum up a retort, he cleared his throat, straightening up again, and offered her his hand.
“You, uh... wanna come be festive with me for a while?” he asked, nodding out towards the street. “It’ll be fun. We can get smashed, and... and I can introduce you to all the family ghosts.”
V reached for his outstretched hand. Curling his fingers tight around hers, he raised her knuckles to his lips, and the smile that graced her own was almost shy.
If he noticed, he didn’t so much as tease her about it. Jackie merely swung his legs out over the bench to stand, and tugged her after him to her feet, and his arm settled comfortably over her shoulder as they stepped out into the street.
feel the need to say this tonight but you’re still a real writer even if you never finish your projects, if you only write for fun, if you change WIPs every week or only ever have one that you work on. the simple act of putting words on paper, of having an idea and fleshing it out to whatever extent is fun for YOU is what makes you a writer.
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