The year was 2021, Shiloh walked to school on a cracked, dusty road. The lack of maintenance lately reminded everyone that Lost Angels was a desert, a hot, barren desert. Smoke was coming from over the horizon, which everyone knew wouldn't be put out. The fire department, as well as other services, were too terrified of the gangs roaming the streets to interfere with the nature of the county. The tall buildings near the slums glistened in the burning sun as young, 9-year-old Shiloh walked to school. She had a black shirt and patched, grey pants as well as dark eye makeup to keep the shimmering bits of broken glass and metal from damaging her retinas. The majority of her anatomy consisted that of a fennec, but she had fangs of a gaboon viper, as well as the amber eyes with horizontal pupils. Her hair was simply black, constantly getting in her face.
Orion met her at the gates of the campus. He was a brown coyote who had the same color of hair which covered one eye. He had jean shorts that barely covered any more than his crotch and a tank top. His father chose this attire for him, considering he was Shiloh's age and lived alone with his father.
The cub waved happily at Shiloh, a small smile on his face. These small, simple moments made their days. They made the city just slightly more liveable and convinced them to push on. Shiloh looked at Orion with a straight face, waving to him. She had autism, which caused her to miss most social cues and made it difficult for her to figure out what kind of eye contact to make, and what expression to make. Everyone knew she was genuine because of this when she smiled. They knew that Shiloh always meant what she said, and meant it literally.
"Hey, Shi.", said, Orion. He had a stutter to his voice, also failing to pronounce R's and TH's when they came up. Most people thought it was his dialect, but people like Shiloh knew that he was actually incapable of pronouncing those sounds.
"Hey. Are we late?", she asked.
"No, we're early."
"Good.", she said. She followed Orion inside. The school gates were now topped with barbed wire and the windows had bars. There were no lights and only the students knew when the school would open. If the people could afford cars, they'd be driving their cubs to school. There was no concern for the children inside acting out. They were relatively well-behaved. The main concern was that people would break in to steal the children.
The two of them noticed how empty the school was, how there were no voices coming from other students. The school might have been small, but there were much more students than just Shiloh and Orion. The bell rang at eight and both followed, walking down a hallway nearby. The halls were covered by a relieving roof that connected each classroom. Every second of shade was a blessing even with their built-up tolerance for the heat.
The classroom was just as empty as the halls, only their teacher stood in the class. She was a canine wearing some simple jeans and a short-sleeve shirt. Her hair was cut short for convenience and she had one dye tattoo in her fur that simply said "hope".
"Okay, because no one else came, I'll make today pretty easy. Any work you have to catch up on, do it. If you don't have anything missing, you're pretty much clear for the day." Orion took out a test that he never finished from his backpack. Shiloh laid her head on her desk, closing her eyes to not disturb Orion. She knew that Orion was easily distracted, and made an effort to keep quiet for his sake. She knows Orion would probably start joking to her if she was the one with the unfinished test.
Orion was always a bit impulsive and jumpy. He would make fun of pretty much everyone, including Shiloh, but the way he'd make fun of people was different depending on his relationship with them. If he was talking with Shiloh, who was his best friend at the time, he'd make a few quick jokes about her when he felt them come up. If he truly didn't like someone, he'd start going off with insults and he wouldn't stop.
The bangs from various types of firearms were getting uncomfortably close. Shiloh had a number of problems with sensory. She ground her teeth and lowered her ears as the sounds grew closer. The sound of pencil, marker on paper, and chalk were extremely irritating. She got the same uncomfortable and surging feeling when she picked up pieces of paper or dry towels without having lotion on her paw pads. The best way to describe the feeling is like if you had grown out your fingernails, never put on lotion, and then put powdered chalk under them. A dry feeling of goosebumps that makes you tense up.
The teacher finally decided to take action. She locked the classroom door and checked each window. No one was outside from what she could see, but then she heard footsteps coming from the hallway. After a 12-gauge shotgun destroyed the lock on the door, they came through inside. These were the R9$, they run the slave trade and snuff film industry in most of North America. There were four members of the gang who broke in. Three had either a machete or baseball bat. Three shirtless attackers had pants which were worn and patched in multiple places and they also had strange masks. They were a stitched khaki color with zippers for the mouth and eyeholes. They were the grunts, usually used as expendables and new recruits. Usually they range from 9 to 17 years old. 85% of them will die and 15% will be promoted. The other fourth was a rank higher than the others. He had a black, baggy jacket covered in pockets for ammunition, zip-ties, and water if needed. His jeans were the same as the three around him, but his had knee pads. His face was covered with a single-respirator gas mask.
The one in the gasmask immediately shot the teacher in the stomach before signaling two of the grunts to grab Shiloh and Orion. One of the grunts came to the teacher who was laying on the floor.
"Tell me something. Do you believe in God?" She didn't answer, gagging on her own blood as bits of flesh fell from underneath her shirt. "Mh… I see you're wearing a cross. I'll assume you do and with that assumption, you're likely pretty convinced in God's existence and I don't want to tell you he isn't real, I just want to ask you a question. What if you're wrong? Sure, while you weren't face-to-face with death, you were sure, but now that you know that you are about to die, are you afraid. What if you finally die and you just lose everything. Your memories are gone, your life is gone, you can't think. All you have is permanent nothingness."
Shiloh and Orion evaded the two others, climbing into the air system. They looked at the one talking with the dying tutor.
"Johnathan, do you really have to get philosophical with everyone you kill?" The masked canine sighed, looking at the twitching body.
"She wasn't talking anyway…" He moved to the side of her and swung his machete using both hands, missing the neck and cutting off her upper head, leaving her lower jaw connected. She still moved briefly as blood spurted onto the floor before slowly losing her life.
Shiloh and Orion jumped into an empty classroom from the vent. The lights were turned off, but they could see clearly as the light from outside shined through. Shiloh broke down instantly, hyperventilating and hitting the floor as tears began to stream down her face.
"I wanna go home. I want my mom." Orion grabbed a chair with a blank look on his face and through the piece of plastic and metal against a window. It had a giant crack, but it wasn't quite broken. Shiloh blinked, looking in his direction. He grabbed the chair again, slamming it against the window, leaving most of the glass shattered. He took off his tank top, using it to brush away the remainder of the glass, then threw it on the ground for them to jump on.
"We're going home.", he said as he jumped onto his clothing. Shiloh jumped down with him and Orion grabbed his top before running across the court. The R9$ saw them and began to chase after them. The two ran to a fence and slide under it to get some distance between them and the killers. The barbed wire covering the fence was keeping the R9$ from climbing up. At this point, they had given up.
"I know their neighborhood.", said one. "We'll find at least one of them again."
