"I've heard of you. You're that damn journalist. The one who keeps chasing after the Dreadnoks. I've read some of your stuff. You wrote the piece on the Dollar Debs. I ain't telling' you shit. No way man…
You need to get on out of here…
I don't care if you can pay…
Wait, those real DDDs?
How much?
What do you want to know?"
____________________
That's generally how each interview starts. Some jackass full of himself, thinking he knows shit about the 'Noks. Half these guys act like they are 'Noks. I bet they'd all piss themselves if they ever met one of the brothers.
I never ran with them, I'm not a 'Nok. I'm a reporter. A photojournalist. I've been compared to some character in a pre-shit comic about a war-torn New York. I guess I'm like that kid, except this was my assignment. Follow the 'Noks. I guess the PR firm and lawyers they hired thought it would be good publicity, they obviously didn't know their clients.
I've been following them since before the dead started walking. I've seen just about every kind of criminal act committed by these guys; murder, rape, sodomy, grand theft, larceny, you name it. One thing even these guys will never do though is hurt a kid. They may beat their "old ladies" but if any touches a kid, even their own kid, well, it's not a pretty sight.
If those dudes up in NYC are 1%ers, the 'Noks are 1% of them. The worst of the worst. At the beginning of the shit, the 'Noks, like so many criminals and gangs, fell off the radar. We had a more important enemy. Hell, the reports coming in were that the Dreadnoks were helping rid the streets of THEM. As THEY spread and time wore on, rumors started popping up of 'Nok serfdoms. Local chapter presidents taking upon themselves to rule over people in their areas. I've been following these leads. Found most of them are bullshit. Most have been 'Nok wannabes. I have found a few of the real deal. Found one of the founding members, Torch. He had another guy, Ripper, on a god damn dog pole, you know the kind that dog catchers used to use to catch crazy mutts. Only this was all modified with chains. Ripper had turned. Become one of THEM. But ol' Torch, he just couldn't let his buddy go, so he kept him at arm's length.
So what brings me out here? Out to No Man's Land? I'm looking for the leader. The real leader. Zartan. Stories, rumors, and reports, all say he's somewhere out here and that something big is happening. I intend to find out what. It's what I do. It's in my blood. Who am I? You can call me Hatch.
I'll find him. I'll record whatever happens, for the future. If we have a future.
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