Black Tipped Gold Chapter 1

I slid the rifle through the open basement window, resting the suppressor on the sill. The ladder I stood on was not necessarily comfortable for shooting but it worked as I got the scope on my target. Prepping to engage the target, the scope picking out my target's face amongst the escort detail bringing my finger to the trigger, I froze. The target was a kid. I could not believe it. 300 black-tipped bullets for this kid, Whoever wanted the kid dead did not care about the ethics of this contract. What else bit at me at that moment was that my contract dealer who set me up with this job and who got the files sent me this job the 2 seconds spent on this quiet self-argument allowed the target to be moved behind a crate.

"Dammit," I muttered to myself, As wrong as this felt the pay from this job would pay enough to live for a year. I had to think fast as I heard the dealer in my earpiece, "Tapes rolling." Meaning the scope was sending video-feed to show the kill, I aimed for the guard I saw duck down behind and squeezed the trigger. Feeling the kick and hearing the sharp crack that my .308 rounds emitted when the round exited the barrel I watched the red mist explode behind the crate, "Got it all Viz?" I asked into the microphone. "Perfect. Come on back," he responded very proudly. I dropped down from my position as the gunfire hosed the house.

I held down under the stairs which were in line with the side door of the house rifle aimed at the landing anyone entering would need to in case I heard that door open and needed to make 2 holes in someone. After 30 minutes and no action, the sun hanging low in the sky I moved up the stairs and out of the house under cover of dusk. The hike back to the safe zone was the usual long, aching walk, It always was. Finding the storm drain by the zone I climbed in and went to my small closet that was my house.

Setting the rifle in the storage rack I sat down next to the tin of ammo left on my bunk, This was my pay. Each of these bullets could buy you food and water for months. This amount set me up for a year. Pulling the lid open I took one from the stash tucking it in my pocket. Their calibers ranged from 5.56 to 7.76. They were of any caliber but their armor piercing was their main draw to mercenaries in this new brave world. About 30 years back there was an EMP that fired off which for 10 years killed everything but soon we got everything working. The first 5 years were something Amish but soon it started making it hard to feed a world population so resource shortages gave way to collapse as man turned on man. This heavy reflection had me hungry as I entered Dram's restaurant built into a storage container sitting on the northwest end of the settlement. I dropped the black tip on her bench, "I need your beef stew."

Meat canned or otherwise was something of a rarity in this part of the country which was in the interior. Dram looked at me, my mask lowered showing the clear lack of sleep or days spent on the trail. "Well, aren't you mister high roller!" She laughed at me as she picked up the 5.56 armor-piercing round. "Came over here with a no doubt ill-gotten black tip." She had an accent that would place her as southern but we were halfway between formerly Indiana and Michigan. She opened the can of beef stew and poured it into a pot stirring as she chuckled to herself, "You know? I used to cook for a kindergarten. Had kids lined up for my venison stew. Now, you scavengers come to me for this slop." I didn't have much to reply with besides, "What if I bring you some deer or fish from the lakes up north?" I hunted when I was younger so it made sense.

"You bring me fish that isn't contaminated and I'll fry it for you. Or any deer meat for that matter, Hard to find some not hunted or in someone's private collection." She sat the bowl in front of me and I greedily laid into it, scarfing it since it was some of the first food I'd had for a bit. Well, I say that but the actual solid food, When I went 'hunting' as I called it now I carried a protein paste that gave me energy but wasn't food food as one would think of it.

I nodded to her as she slid 2 smaller caliber black tips back as a form of 'change'. Walking back to my little hovel tucked down in the storm drains, I locked the door and stripped off my kit stepping into the inwall shower. Letting the water wash off the grime as it was cold, it was always cold. I remembered when showers were hot. That was nice. Stepping from the shower after my cold splash I opened my 'savings' which was a box of assorted black tips and threw in Dram's "change" and the 299 black tips left from the payment. I'd counted before I left. This made 322 black tips which set me for a while. Maybe I'd go towards the coast where people had established larger colonies and were somewhat back to normal, use these to buy my way in if they use them as payment. Who knows? I thought to myself and that made me smile, how long had I been working on instinct? How long was I without food or safety and here it is, Payment into a better life. I'd decided this would be my way out. I'd use some to buy food and water for the road and head out in the morning. Falling into my cot this dream took me off to dreamland, that stupid smile stuck to my lips.