Subject Nightingale 1: Birth and Death

by Tim Cody

  “Could we find out?”

  Elise shook her head. “Nah, not likely... The Outlands are completely uninhabitable thanks to the miasma.”

  “And because of the monsters!” Whisper suddenly chimed in, looking up from her comic books.

  “The monsters?” Nightingale looked at Whisper, startled.

  “Yeah, the miasma made monsters, too! Animals like your bird that mutated, and grew really big! They grew huge, razor sharp teeth, and they could gobble you up with a single bite!”

  Nightingale's face took on a worried expression and she looked at Elise for confirmation—to tell her that Whisper was just being over-imaginative again.

  But instead, she just shrugged. “Maybe. Nobody really knows what's out there, you know? It was so long ago, there aren't even any pictures of the Outlands—and you never hear about anyone ever trying to get out of Bastion.”

  “Can people get out?” Nightingale asked.

  “Not unless you want the cops coming after you,” Elise said. “It's illegal—if someone tried going outside, they might let the miasma in. I don't even think the tunnels go down that far.”

  “Or they'll let the monsters in!” Whisper continued. “And they'll start eating everyone and everything in sight! And they'll—”

  “Alright, Whisper,” Elise interrupted. “I think it's time we get to bed. You're gonna give yourself nightmares if you keep talking like that.”

  “Aw, but I haven't finished reading yet!” she protested.

  “You can finish in the morning. It's late.” She stood and brushed herself off, and Whisper did the same. “We'll show you where you're sleeping, Nightingale. There's not a ton of space, but it keeps us dry and mostly warm.”

  “Mostly warm?” Nightingale asked as she stood. It was plenty warm by the fire, but it was dwindling.

  “Don't worry,” Whisper said, “once we move into one of those shacks, we're gonna build a fireplace!”

  “How do you build a fireplace?” she asked as the girls led her into the hut. Elise held the front of the tarp aside and Nightingale followed Whisper in. She had to duck to step in, but Whisper could stand upright.

  “A fireplace is just a tube sticking out of a box,” Whisper explained. “We just gotta find a tube, a box, and then cut a hole in the roof. Right?”

  Nightingale thought about Whisper's explanation for a moment, and then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess that sounds about right.” She didn't know a thing about fireplace construction, but it sounded accurate.

  She knelt once she was inside the hut, and looked around at the small space. It looked like there would be just enough room for the three of them to lie down. The pavement was covered by a number of thick, colorful blankets, most of which had been torn and stitched back together, but were actually pretty soft. Pillows lined the borders of the blankets, and there were two sleeping bags rolled out.

  “Sorry we don't have a spare sleeping bag,” Elise said as she adjusted the tarp to keep most of the wind out. She secured it with a couple heavy bricks. Once she did, the light of the fire was completely blocked out and her eyes had to adjust to the darkness. “We'll have to keep an eye out for one. There's a blanket you can use in the meantime.”

  Whisper crawled onto her sleeping bag against the wall and tucked her comics into a shoebox she kept right beside her head. She fit the lid onto it and then shimmied into her sleeping bag. “Hey, where's your bird?” she asked.

  “She went off to find some food,” Nightingale answered as she found a thick blanket folded against the wall.

  “Well that's good, 'cause I don't think I've ever seen any bird food while we were out looking for supplies.”

  “Birds eat bugs,” Elise said as she slipped into her sleeping bag beside her sister.

  “Yuck,” Whisper said. “Birds are gross.”

  Nightingale laid beside Elise, and wrapped herself in the blanket. It was pretty warm, and when combined with the layer of her leather jacket, she didn't suspect she would have any trouble with the cold. She placed her head on one of the soft pillows that surrounded the space, and her eyelids grew heavy all at once.

  “We'll go through the rest of the clothes we found tomorrow,” Elise said through a quiet yawn. She was beginning to doze off. “We've got some hats...gloves...”

  “I think I saw a scarf...” Whisper practically fell asleep mid-sentence.

  Nightingale yawned as well, and shut her eyes. She heard her bird flutter into the hut a moment later, and then it flew back out—only to return shortly thereafter, leave, and repeat the process several times. She was too tired to concern herself with what it was doing, though; she fell asleep shortly after the sisters.

  Chapter 16

  Bad Dreams

  The familiar sound of gunfire roused Nightingale violently from an otherwise peaceful sleep. She gasped and sat up sharply, eyes wide and suddenly panicked as she looked all around for the source. Did an ECHO squad find her? It sounded like she had woken up in another war zone.

  She needed to run. She didn't want Whisper or Elise to get caught in the crossfire.

  Nightingale groped through the darkness for her medical kit, and slung it around her shoulder once she found it. She grabbed the edge of the tarp and tugged it open, glancing over her shoulder to call to her bird on her way out. “Come on, we've gotta go,” she said, and then bounded from the hut.

  She took off in a sprint toward the open end of the alley, not stopping to look either way for the source of the gunfire. She was already thinking, Don't see me! in preparation for having to run past any soldiers—she suspected that's what did the trick before.

  She only ran a few steps, though, before slowing to a stop. Mister and Misses Grant's barrel near the street was still burning, and everything looked as peaceful and calm as it had when she went to bed. Nightingale's bird landed on her shoulder, and she grabbed her head as she looked around for the ECHO squad.

  “What... What's going on, where are they?” she asked between panted breaths. She could still hear the sounds of battle. An explosion made her jump, but it didn't seem to affect the surrounding area at all. The street looked empty—she imagined that if a raid was taking place, there would be quite a few more panicked civilians running around.

  Look out behind you, Mister Coffin! Whisper called out.

  “Mister Coffin?” Nightingale frowned and shut her eyes.

  Suddenly she saw Mister Coffin swinging his coffin through hordes of machine gun toting henchmen, and Whisper was right beside him—dual-wielding pistols and picking off henchmen like a professional.

  “It's her dream,” Nightingale said with a quiet, relieved chuckle. She opened her eyes and added, “That kid has some violent dreams, though...” She became dizzy at the sudden and unintended telekinetic link, and her vision blurred once she regained her own. She shook her head and crept back into the hut, and took a moment to look over the girls.

  They both appeared just fine, and to be sleeping soundly. Whisper was sprawled out, her sleeping bag a tangled mess thanks to her overactive dreams, and Elise was cozied up by her side. Nightingale sighed and shook her head, placed her medical kit beside her pillow, and coiled herself back up in her blanket.

  How am I gonna block this out? she thought. Her bird fluttered back to wherever it had been sleeping, and she wrapped her blanket around the back of her head for warmth. She shut her eyes and thought, Stop hearing Whisper's dreams. The sounds of violence that rung in Nightingale's head dampened, and she repeated the thought several times. Eventually the volume turned down low, but she couldn't seem to block out Whisper's adventures with Mister Coffin entirely. That girl dreams too loud.

  My Valkyrie, she heard next, and she gasped and opened her eyes wide. It wasn't Whisper's voice, and it didn't sound like Mister Coffin. The voice was soft spoken and a little high-pitched, and sounded excited. You're near. I can feel you.

  She shook her head and shut her eyes again. It must be someone else nearby—there were millions of people
in this city, right? She could be hearing any one of their dreams, so she concentrated harder on blocking them out. Eventually, she drifted off again.

  Chapter 17

  Making Plans

  Nightingale slept well despite Whisper's dreams. She awoke the next morning completely refreshed, and had managed to stay warm all night. She yawned and stretched her entire body, and then realized she was alone in the hut. She heard Whisper and Elise chatting quietly outside as she sat up, rubbing her eyes groggily. Her bird began to chirp and it caught her attention, so she looked up toward the corner of the hut.

  During the night, it had constructed a small nest out of thin artificial twigs. It was nestled in the crook of two planks, and looked like the perfect little bed for the bird.

  “Well I'm glad you found yourself a nice little home, too,” Nightingale said as her bird flitted to her shoulder. She crawled out of the hut and stood, yawning and stretching her limbs once she was outside, and squinted in the daylight.

  “You're up!” Whisper said. “We've been waiting to look through the rest of the winter clothes.”

  She and Elise were knelt beside the steel drum; a fire was burning beneath a frying pan that held what looked like a couple of eggs. Elise kept one eye on breakfast as she combed Whisper's long hair with a salvaged brush. Its wooden handle was split and it was missing half its teeth, but it got the job done just fine.

  “Did you sleep well?” Elise asked.

  “Yeah, I slept alright,” Nightingale answered as she hugged her jacket around herself, fending off a sudden chilly breeze. “You kept me up, though,” she said to Whisper as she approached the two, “you dream way too loud.”

  The girls laughed, writing the comment off as a joke, but then Whisper suddenly launched into her dream. “Oh man, it was so awesome, I dreamt I was Mister Coffin's sidekick!”

  “Oh, did you now?” Elise said as she worked the tangles out of her sister's hair.

  “Yeah, I had two guns, and we were surrounded! But I was like, 'Look out, Mister Coffin!' And then I— Ouch, Elise!”

  Elise had given her hair a sudden tug when she began to animate. “You've gotta sit still so I can finish.”

  Whisper crossed her arms with a bit of a huff and resolved to sitting still.

  Elise continued combing, and smiled up at Nightingale. “Were you warm enough?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Nightingale answered, chuckling quietly at the scene Whisper had caused. “It was perfect.” She frowned, then, and dropped her gaze to the ground in thought. “But, did either of you dream of a Valkyrie?” She considered how weird of a question it was, but she was curious.

  Elise's eyes rose toward the sky in thought, then she shook her head. “No, not that I can remember...”

  “What's a Valkyrie?” Whisper asked.

  “It's sort of like a battle angel,” Elise answered.

  “That sounds awesome! Did you dream of one, Nightingale? I bet it was a cool dream.”

  Nightingale smiled nervously. “It was a little scary, actually...”

  “Alright, you're all done,” Elise announced as she tightened the last short red ribbon, securing Whisper's hair in two ponytails.

  “Thanks!” Whisper said, and then took the brush from her sister. She motioned for Nightingale to sit in front of her. “Come on, Nightingale, let me comb your hair next!”

  “Oh, um...” Nightingale grabbed her long red hair and immediately felt several knots. She nodded and knelt with her back to Whisper. “Sure, if you want.”

  Elise, meanwhile, grabbed her and Whisper's backpacks from the hut and placed them on the cardboard. After that she grabbed half of a spatula and the dishes, and began serving up the eggs.

  “Your hair's a pretty color,” Whisper said as she worked the comb through Nightingale's hair. She had a lot of experience untangling knots, so the process was mostly painless.

  “Thanks,” Nightingale said somewhat awkwardly. She couldn't remember ever being complimented before. “I like yours, too; the stripes go nice with your socks.”

  “Thanks!” Whisper replied. “I can dye yours, if you want.”

  “I don't know,” Nightingale said, frowning thoughtfully. “I like it red, I don't think it would look good with purple in it...”

  “I can dye it any color you want, it doesn't have to be purple. I could make it black, or yellow, or even just a darker red.” She was getting excited again.

  “Well...” Nightingale thought for a moment, and then shrugged. It's just a hair color, right? She didn't want to disappoint or upset Whisper by rejecting her offer. “I guess a darker red wouldn't be bad... How dark is it?”

  Whisper shook her head. “I only have purple hair dye, but I'll find some red for you. If you look hard enough, you can find anything you want.”

  “Alright, you two,” Elise interrupted, “breakfast is ready.” She had set their places on the cardboard, each dish with scrambled eggs.

  They sat at their spots, and after a brief pause, began eating. The nightingale flew off to find its own breakfast once they dug in.

  “This is the last of our eggs,” Elise said as they ate. “We've got a few dollars left, though, so do you wanna go to the corner store and pick some more up, Whisper?”

  “Sure thing!” Whisper nodded.

  “I'm gonna take my book to the bookstore to see if they wanna buy it for a few dollars, so maybe we can break even today.” Elise looked at Nightingale after that. “What do you wanna do today? You're welcome to join me or Whisper.”

  “Actually, I wanted to check out the pit if that's alright,” Nightingale answered.

  “Of course,” Elise said. “It's filled overnight, so you can look around during the day without worrying about being crushed by all the junk. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

  Nightingale hadn't even considered the possibility of being crushed. She paled at the thought, then shook her head. “No, not really... I just wanna try to find something useful to help out.” Secretly, she was looking for someplace private to figure out exactly what she was capable of. She can do things, that much was abundantly clear, so now she wanted to understand what.

  She wanted to figure this out partly because she was curious, but also, she wanted to use her powers to protect people—people she suddenly found herself caring about, like Whisper and Elise. Waking up to gunfire, even though it turned out to just be Whisper's dream, worried her. If someone—the Council, an ECHO squad, anyone—actually did find her, she wanted to be able to protect these girls in some manner other than just running away. She wanted to be ready to eliminate the threat, to ensure that Whisper and Elise would continue to be safe.

  She wanted to be the good guy.

  I think Whisper's comics are starting to rub off on me, she thought, and rubbed her head as she pulled herself from her own mind.

  “Well let's split the winter stuff, then we can get on our ways,” Elise said once they had all finished eating.

  She and Whisper grabbed their backpacks, and began emptying the contents.

  “Alright,” Elise started as she sorted through the items, “we've got a hat, who wants a hat?”

  “I do!” Whisper raised her hand and Elise tossed her a gray ski cap, which she pulled onto her head.

  “And another hat.” She held up a black and purple horizontally striped ski cap next.

  “Oh, me!” Whisper jumped up and down and waved her arms frantically. “I'll finally match!” She pulled her gray hat off and tossed it to Nightingale, and caught the new one. “Yeah!” She pulled it over her black and purple hair, and grinned up at Nightingale. “How do I look?”

  The hat was a little big, but she rolled it up to her ears. “It looks good on you.” Nightingale smiled and put her new hat on.

  “Next we've got socks and shoes for Nightingale.” Elise tossed a pair of plain white socks and red canvas shoes to her.

  She slipped out of her white Lab-issued shoes, and into her new socks and sneakers. “All this s
tuff was really in that bag?” she asked as she laced up.

  “Yep!” Whisper answered. “Like I said: if you look hard enough, you'll find everything you could ever want!”

  “A hat for me,” Elise said next, and pulled a dark blue ski cap onto her head, “and then we're left with two pairs of gloves and a scarf.”

  “Which do you want?” Whisper asked Nightingale.

  “Oh, I don't know...” Nightingale shook her head slowly in response. Suddenly she didn't feel comfortable, now that she had to make a decision that would actually affect the group.

  “Well I don't need a scarf,” Elise said as she flipped the tall collar of her oversized peacoat up. It came up to her nose, and made Whisper laugh when she peered at her over it. “So I'll take a pair of gloves.” Her voice was a bit muffled.

  “Do you want the scarf?” Whisper asked Nightingale when she noticed it was dark red, the same color as her jacket.

  “Sure.” Nightingale caught it when Elise tossed it to her, and she wrapped it around her neck.

  Whisper put on her purple one-size-fits-all gloves and clapped her hands together. “Man, I'm wearing so many clothes right now!” She couldn't help but smile. “I feel like a rich person, Elise!”

  “Yeah, if only you owned more clothes than you're wearing right now!” Elise teased.

  “Aw, I own two shirts, you know, and a pair of suspenders!”

  “Which I've never seen you use,” Elise commented as she put her own gloves on.

  “I'm gonna put them on right now just to prove you wrong!” Whisper darted into the hut.

  Elise just chuckled and shook her head. “It's gonna take her a little while to figure out how to put suspenders on, so why don't you go ahead and get going.”

  “Yeah, alright,” Nightingale said, her voice a little muffled by her scarf. It was long enough for her to cover up to her nose—it, along with her hat, kept her entire head warm, she loved it. “Do you know what time it is? I don't wanna get swallowed.”