Chapter 3-Close Call
Atop the roof of a crumbling building, a black alligator sat watching the alley beneath him. A small creature lay huddled in a ball, a stiff square cloth wrapped around him like a blanket. Its clothes were in tatters and it appeared to have no one around it.
[i]Perfect[/i], the alligator thought.[i] He's alone. No one will miss him.[/i] The alligator made no noise as he crept toward the end of the roof, jumping down to the cracked pavement below. He sidled along the edge of the wall, peering around the corner to see the creature. He could see now that it was a green bear cub, with matted fur and barely any meat on its bones.
The alligator slid forward a bit more, preparing to strike. Suddenly, the bear jolted upwards, a laser pistol trained at the gator. The alligator's eyes widened in surprise and he backed up, his hands in the air.
"Yo man, sorry. I didn't know you had a gun," He started, not wanting to anger the bear.
"So basically you're saying if you had known, you wouldn't have tried to eat me?" The bear asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I-I guess so. Look, let's forget about this little incident, kay?" The alligator looked around, searching for some sort of weapon.
"I don't think I can. What's your name?"
"D-Del. Now put the gun down man," Del pleaded.
"Fine, I'll let you off easy this time," The bear replied, lowering the gun. "But don't you EVER try to eat me again."
"Sure thing man, never again. Now then, what do you say to helping me find some real food?"
"Well, I am quite famished," The bear remarked, rubbing his thin belly. He eyed the alligator suspiciously. "So long as you don't pull any stunts."
"Scout's honor," Del replied, placing his hand across his chest.
"I don't see the harm in going," The bear concluded, tucking his gun at his side.
"Then what are ya waitin' for let's go!" Del reached for the bear's arm, pulling him to his feet. "What's yer name?"
"Murphy. Now, what exactly did you have in mind?"
"There's a square up the way with lotsa food stands. Only them richie 'trols shop there though." Del smirked.
"Trolls? What? Those are mythical creatures," Murphy responded, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"Nah man, I'm talkin' bout The Patrol. Us street folk, we call 'em 'trols. It's our little inside joke," Del chuckled.
"Oh I get it. Clever!" Murphy grinned, the first time he could remember in ages when he was actually having fun.
"So, what say you? Shall we go mug 'em? Now that I've got a man with a gun on my side, should be a piece o' cake. Come on let's go you slow poke!" Del exclaimed, dragging Murphy out of the alley. He led him around the corner of the building, through a tiny, abandoned business district. The dark clouds and smog overhead made the large steel buildings look even gloomier than they were. Sirens went off in the distance, and animals patrolled the streets looking for criminals or suspicious people.
After passing through the dark area, they came to a small square dotted with carts selling food. A heavyset raccoon manned the nearest one, and he was busy sorting a stack of bells on the counter. Del gestured toward that cart with a nod. Murphy gave a stiff nod as well, signaling that he understood the plan. Murphy approached the stand from the front side, trying to get the vendor's attention. Behind the vendor, Del searched the area for any Patrol men. He didn't see any at the moment, but they'd be flocking any minute now. He inched towards the stand, waiting for Murphy to make his move.
Murphy hit his paw against the surface of the cart, startling the raccoon. He fixed Murphy with an angry look, wondering how anyone would dare interrupt his bell counting. After sizing up what appeared to be a street kid, he returned to counting.
"Give me your food," Murphy growled in the deepest voice he could muster. The raccoon cracked a smile, looking skeptically at the cub.
"You serious? What are you, a tiny little street punk, going to do to me?" The raccoon could barely contain his laughter.
"This," Murphy replied, pulling his laser from the holster that Lolly had given him. The raccoon's eyes widened in fear and he began to frantically stack food onto the counter.
"Look I-I'm sorry I didn't l-listen to you earlier," The raccoon stammered.
"You better be," came a deep voice from behind the raccoon. The raccoon jumped, whirling around to see who was behind him. A large black alligator loomed over him, and he backed completely away from the stand, frightened.
"ACK! P-Please, just don't take my stand! I need it!" The raccoon shrieked. "Or my bells!" Del reached his paw up to the counter and swiped a handful of bells, shoving them into the ratty backpack slung over his shoulder. He moved around the front, stuffing the food in as well.
"I think we're done here, don't you?" Del asked Murphy.
"I think so. Let's jet because here come the 'trols!" Murphy pointed over his shoulder toward the green chicken and the fat dog in blue uniforms running towards them. Del and Murphy bolted towards a narrow pathway nearby, darting behind a large steel box. The two Patrol men ran past, the chubby one huffing and panting.
"I don't see 'em," The chicken shouted from the far end of the alley.
"I guess they got away…I think." The dog replied, a stupefied look on his face.
"Are you ever sure of anything, you dummy?" The chicken asked, coming towards the dog.
"Uhh…I dunno…I think..maybe." The dog clearly had no idea what he was doing.
"OH come on already, we have to look somewhere else! We can't let them get away!" The chicken shoved the dog forward, breaking into a run again. The two fugitives breathed a sigh of relief, narrowly avoiding an encounter with the Patrol.