Smoke itself is bad enough, blue smoke is worse, and what's worse is that it can only mean one thing… and, heh heh, I've got two predators in here with me, two predators who have direct ties to the last damn time that this happened, two predators with sharp teeth and claws that I'm sure have been filed to points and are even sharper…
Case in point, the way that both Jason and Chief Otterton are twitching isn't good- but hell, it's the Chief's that's really scaring me… I'm hiding in the back corner of the room now, and I've got my eye on either the door to the street (not a good idea, I hear those pops right outside) or the closet (which can't be locked from the inside, woo)... and even I'm feeling a little angry right now…
The smoke is swirling from the air vents, and Jason's shaking in the middle of the floor, clinging to a trembling otter, trying to hold her back- wait what?
He hasn't lost it, oh thank gods, oh thank gods-
But hell, he's not happy….
"Mary-," he manages to grit out, 'run. Now. Just do it…"
But what about you? I want to ask, but I know this isn't gonna end well if I don't listen, know that the door is locked but that there's a window there- at least my hooves are tough, and-
The growling behind me grows and grows and I'm smashing through a window and I can smell blood and that just means that both the mammals inside are going to probably be coming after me…
My arm is bleeding, I don't care, I need to run…
It's cold out here, and yeah, I hear pawsteps coming up behind me, that's not going to be good…
Bleeding… pain, ow, run, predator! my senses tell me.
I'm running, I'm running, I'm getting lightheaded, this isn't good, run, fear, run…
There's a van that's coming up behind me; I glance at it. White, unmarked. Soldiers at the wheel? No, thank goodness... but just because they're not soldiers doesn't mean that the gun they have aimed at my forehead isn't real…
"I- if it's money y- you want, um, I- I don't have my wallet," I stammer, hooves knocking together nervously…
"Oh, no, no, no, that's not what we want at all…, we want to know why Wolford let you live…"
"What?" I ask, feeling sweat pool everywhere. "I- I- I don't- I don't know what you're talking about…"
"Okay, so then let's make this easy, you come with us, alright, and then we explain." Not a question, a statement, a demand, but I don't give into demands. Life's already asked enough of me, and I'm not going to die here.
Taking a breath to calm my nerves, I remind myself what I'm doing here, cold air, savage officers, need to get help….
"I don't think I will," I say, finding a hoof going for my pistol. It may not have live ammo, but stun darns are gonna have to do- if it doesn't slip out of my hooves first, though…
"Who- who sent you-," I try to ask, but I feel stars all over, a searing pain in my jaw, and it takes me way too long to realize that I've just gotten socked, and pretty flocking darn hard, too.
Oh no they don't…
I try to calm myself down, deep breaths, Mary, deep breaths, don't need to be in the slammer like your parents. You can calm yourself down, yes ewe can…
And then the mother fluffer takes another swing at me, and that thought, the 'be calm and reasonable, plan your actions, remember your training' thought, it goes right out the window. Cut on my arm that's steadily bleeding be damned...
What happens next is a blur- I remember stunning a few of them, some more got hooves to the face (and if I survived this, I remember thinking, I was going to have so much paperwork to fill out), and the rest of them, well, for some reason, as a general rule, most goons have a place that's really easy to plant a knee in, a place that got kneepads to them…
And then I was left on the street alone, with a pounding headache to deal with and two mammals who, for all intents and purposes, had gone savage….
What a wonderful way to end the day… right?
Wrong….
I thought- I was thinking, I guess I mean to say- that today couldn't get any worse, I guess. First we get Howler-bombed and I'm the only mammal who manages to stay completely together and not frothing, and then I get beat up, and I have to haul myself back to the station and stay low, hope the gas'll have gone away, and then maybe, maybe I'll get to finally check out that apartment that Jason and I are gonna be sharing.
Except of course, problems tend to multiply. That's just a fact of life, it's a fact of being on the job like this, it's not just a fact but the reality of Happytown (yeah, I know I've said it, but this place sucks!)...
I'm really tired and irritated and scared, and I'm going to need to call an ambulance, which is what I should have done to begin with, but no, I was a coward and I ran…
Everything's going to be alright though, I know that, everything's going to be alright, right? I'm going to get back to the station and I can get help for my friends…
...and then reality works its way back into my mind…
...because when I get to the station, not only are all the lights off, all the windows smashed, and a little bit of blue haze still hanging around…
...and I can't tell if I'm afraid, terrified, or flipping the freak out, because there's noone to be found in the station, nowhere….
And there's a note on the floor, covered in dust and tile fragments…
"All the world's a stage, and all the foxes and ewes are merely players… what a fun game, right? To die, to sleep, to find your friends, ah there's the rub…"
There's no signature…
And with my luck, there's no hope, either...
