Wings of Fire: Nighthawk

Chapter 36: Escape

It was time. This was it. Mojave had come down to the dungeons. Lobster was still being as skeptical as he had been for the last few days. Nighthawk sat up eagerly, just wanting to get the hell out of this horrible place. Their cells were unlocked.

"Alright, let's get going. We need to be discreet, quiet. That sorta thing. I know you're familiar with that, Nighthawk."

"Of course I am. Can we go? Not exactly the most inviting place in the world."

"Yes yes. We must hurry, quickly." Mojave started to walk up the stairs. Nighthawk and Lobster followed closely behind. He had been skeptical himself, but there was a certain confidence he had for the sandwing. And this was his chance to get out, even if it was an enormous risk, it was one he was willing to take.

"Alright, in the wagon. Hide yourselves. I've put some dry hay in there to help mask your scents. It's not perfect, but it'll do." Mojave walked upstairs. The sandwing checked either side of the hall before gesturing them upstairs. Nighthawk went first. As he looked back to make sure Lobster was following, he could see a small shred of hope on his face. Once he was upstairs, he climbed into the wagon.

"Come on, mate, home stretch." Nighthawk said as he grabbed Lobster's arm and talon, helping him into the wagon. To his surprise, it was quite roomy for what it was. There led a box marked 'Nighthawk' on the other end. He could only assume those were his belongings. "Alright, bury yourself.." He whispered to Lobster.

"If.. we get out- thanks.. if not- I'm glad to have been your friend.." Lobster muttered. There was plenty of hay, so the red seawing was mostly well hidden. Despite the wagon being somewhat roomy, it was still uncomfortable. Never did he expect to be in such a situation, but he would do what was necessary for survival.

"Of course..now be quiet.." Nighthawk whispered. The sound of rolling wheels could be heard as Mojave pushed the wagon out of the palace. Nighthawk and Lobster stayed still and silent. Occasionally a sandwing guard or two would pass and greet Mojave. After the third stop, they came to a stop.

"Halt. What are you transporting?" A sandwing soldier asked. Nighthawk couldn't see him, for he was too well hidden.

"Just heading out to get some more supplies for the party. I have some camels I'm bringing to trade in exchange. I was granted permission from Burn."

"Camels ah? Alright bring em through."

"You're not going to check the cargo?" Another asked. It was a female. "What if he's trucking us?" It would be bad if they searched it. But if need be, he could certainly take two sandwing soldiers. He just stayed quiet and held still, playing by ear for the moment.

"It's Mojave." The first said.

"Exactly, he could be smuggling something."

"Oh don't be rude, if he's smuggling something Burn is probably ordering him to."

"Just let me check it-" She was cut off by Mojave clearing his throat. Nighthawk saw a talon on the cloth above him, and he tensed up a bit. "What?"

"With all due respect, I've got to get moving. Burn ordered me to deliver these, and if I'm not back in an hour my head would be on a spike. Can we move this along?"

"Oh- of course." The female said. "Alright, my apologies." She could be heard moving back from the wagon. A loud clanking noise could be heard, followed by the sound of stone grinding on stone. Nighthawk realized it must've been some kind of gate. The cart began to move again, and Mojave sighed with relief. They walked for about fifteen minutes, out of sight from the stronghold. Then the cover was removed.

"Alright, we're out. We should start flying." Mojave said calmly. The sandwing looked tense, but ready for whatever was to come next.

"Mate, that was bloody brilliant." Nighthawk said to him. "How the hell'd ya do that?" He asked, then grabbed his gear and quickly put everything on.

"I've got a bit of a silver tongue. This will buy us some time for sure, so let's get moving. They'll start looking soon, but we'll be long gone by then."

"Of course." Nighthawk helped Lobster up. "Lobster, we're free. We'll find you a river or lake so you can get water." His friend nodded and Mojave gave them something. It looked like food. "What's this?"

"Just eat it, it will give you some energy so we can make it home. Let's go." The sandwing looked hopeful and eager. Nighthawk knew it was because the sandwing wanted to be free.

"Right. Let's book it, don't wanna wait around for the search party." Nighthawk ate the supplement and spread his wings. He flapped into the air, soon being followed by the other two. "Mojave, thank you."

"Of course." The sandwing smiled. "Nice cloak by the way, never seen anything like that."

"Thank you, made it myself." He glanced at Lobster, who had a look of hope on his face. The escape was flawless. Flawless enough for Nighthawk to get a sickening feeling that something might go wrong. As the three flapped up into the sky, they began to head east.

"Of course, I wanted to get out, and so did you two. Worked for everyone."

"Aye, was about time we got out of that hellhole."

"Agreed.." Lobster sighed and flapped. "I'm gonna see my family.. Thank you for coming after me Nighthawk. I appreciate this.."

"'Course. What are friends for, ah?"

"Absolutely." Lobster said. "We won't be followed will we?"

"The chance is minimal but not zero, we should be careful."

"Correct. But I got my crossbow, so if need be I'm gonna take out whoever I have to." Nighthawk grumbled. They were leaving to safety. Mojave had proven to be a useful and skilled dragon as he suspected. Not only did he make a good ally, but a good friend as well.