Stray Bullets

By Bill Kieffer



Harold Romano was a Canine with broad beige shoulders and long blonde arms that ended in huge paws that might have marked him as a Wolf if not for the distinctive coloration that marked him as a Shepherd. He looked every inch like the beefy security guard he was, his motley coat cut so close that Zhu could see the ripped musculature his paper bag brown uniform usually hid.

So surprised to see him when she looked up from the paperwork on her desk, her mind failed to register his presence properly. Instead, her eyes crawled up the furry mountain that had suddenly sprung into existence where her view of the lobby should have been. No, not a mountain, a work of art representing the Olympian ideal of the classic Canine male.

Without conscious thought, a purr of appreciation slid from deep inside of her into the real world without. The work of art broke into a happily embarrassed smile that startled Zhu into realizing she was not quite day- dreaming about her friend; that, in fact, Harold was standing in front of her desk.

"Uhrrr," she said, feeling dainty and small as she always did when he was standing next to her. Then she blushed beneath her creamsicle coat so intensely that she was sure her short fur would curl. Her tail waved bolding in greeting as she covered her face politely, as if to hold down the giggle fit.

Harold barked with laughter, in that way he had that never made Zhu jump at the sudden noise, the way Xing's screeching laughter made her jump with a tail suddenly as thick as her torso. Xing always made her feel awkward and ungraceful, like a cow, although she knew such was not his intent. Xing was nothing, if not polite and well-mannered.

A more scornful woman might even call him effeminate.

"Harold!" she said happily, "I did not see you standing there."

His tail wagged with the openness she'd come to expect from Americans and his words were no less direct, but his voice was friendly, filled with teasing promises. "You seemed to look hard enough, Zu-Zu."

She suffered another attack on embarrassed heat. Somehow, she found this an affirmation that all was right in the world. Had she been a typical American female, she might have leaned forward boldly and called his bluff boldly by saying something along the lines of, "Oh, Harry... are you? Are you hard enough?"

Instead, she tittered like a little girl, while Harold watched her with bright happy eyes, his jowls tight with a smile almost two big for his muzzle. "Give me a few minutes to organize this mess, Harold." Zhu gave him a warning look that said you must be careful here. He returned the look with a wink as his tail wilted falsely from the silent rebuke.

Zhu could only smile and shake her head as she signed off on a few documents and sorted a few others in a fashion did hardly seemed rush at all, unless one knew of her usually meticulous nature. The unrepentant flirt was not above sitting on her desk blotter if ignored too long. Xing would be scandalized to have his future wife treated so rudely in her place of employment, and with so many children in the lobby today.

Perhaps this was why Zhu considered slowing her pace for a moment, but then she thought better of it. Such a display might prove difficult for both of them, since they were both employees of the United Species Bank. She was a loan officer and, while he was technically employed by Hooka Security, this USB branch was his steady assignment. Professional behavior was called for on both their behalves; yet, Zhu was convinced that Harold would throw himself in front of a train if it would make her smile.

It was all very flattering, really, even though it was just quite impossible for them to be together. Quite impossible.

Within minutes she was done, or at least, everything was in order. If she should get hit by a bus or abducted by aliens while on her lunch break, she was certain even the dimmest replacement USB put behind her desk would be able to pick up where she left off. She stopped for a moment as it occurred to her that that had been a rather odd thought for her to have. Just another tidbit to give her and her mother to discus over tea. Her mother was rather obsessed with dreams and premonitions and she pounced on anything that might be an omen.

"I'm ready," she announced, grabbing her handbag. But Harold did not seem ready. Instead, he leaned on a nearby pillar almost casually. His tail was motionless and she noticed his eyes were anything but casual. They were sharp and moving slyly across the lobby of the bank. "Is something wrong, Harold?" Her own voice, softer but not whispering, carried more curiosity than concern.

"I don't know," he admitted after a moment. He seemed to want to turn away, but his body only twitched and his eyes met hers for just a moment before they slid away back to the lobby. He jerked his muzzle almost imperceptibly towards the door. "See those two guards?"

There was more curiosity than concern in his voice, but she found her hackles responding as if he'd just told her there was a bomb threat called in to the branch. She looked and saw two guards by the front doors as there always were in this high rent district. "Yes," she answered, softly. Their brown rent-a-cop uniforms made their green skin seem darker still and the shadows fell on their faces so that she could not tell from their beaks which sex they were. She was too far away to see how their shirts were buttoned over their shells, but she would have guessed male if pressed. Harold's boss was a noted chauvinist, after all. "Why? What's wrong with them?"

A snarl played on his face for a moment, but then it was gone. He stepped back, putting the pillar between him and them. "They're Repts."

"Harold! What a speciest thing to say," she chided him. "Especially, not since..." she let the words hang, not quite willing to bring past intimacies they had shared against him.

He shook his head. "Not me. Archie." The Canine pulled thoughtfully at his scruff as he thought about his boss. "We wouldn't have any Reptiles in the agency if Archie and his lawyers weren't worried about a lawsuit or something. He might send one but not two. 'Too slow,' he'd say and who could argue with him? Never mind that having someone slow on the draw might keep things from escalating out of control." Harold's ears fell back a bit. "He'd never let me have today off if all he had were Repts to cover this USB branch. "Standing at the vault post, there's a 'Gator."

Trying not to show her nervousness, Zhu glanced as casually as she possibly could. "He's a Crocodile, I believe. They have fast reflexes, don't they?"

"Archie wouldn't believe that." Concern was beginning to win over mere curiosity. "Who's posted at the corner post by the tellers' row?"

Zhu's golden eyes looked towards a tall green and brown creature with huge bulging eyes hanging outside his head like some sort of nightmarish creature. She cursed her own revulsion, knowing that it was rude and unforgivable. "There's a Gecko there. I don't know him."

"Neither do I," Harold admitted, quickly. "I don't know any of these men. Not a single one."

"It's a big agency."

"Yes, it is."

Zhu looked at the phone on her desk and then at the crowd of furs in the lobby. It was "Bring Your Daughter to Work Day" and the children of the employees had gotten bored with following their parents around. Most of the girls were playing "I, Spy" behind the office barricade on the other side of the lobby. The rest were drawing, reading, or listening to CDs. All told, there were a dozen little girls of different species and coloration. "Maybe you should call Archie and ease your mind," she suggested, although there might have been a tiny trace of pleading in her voice as well.

Harold had the phone in his hands before she was even done speaking. Then his ears went up and back down in an instant. He poked at a few buttons and played with the receiver for half a second. Then he straightened up as he put the phone down. His face was perfectly composed when he looked at her again. "Back door."

"I'm sorry?" she asked, as if not understanding or afraid that she understood all too well.

He took her by the shoulders and began to steer her towards the break room. "The phone's dead, Zu-Zu. You're getting out of here."

"The girls," she said, trying to look back, but Harold held her tightly, almost dragging her off her feet across the office area.

"I'll stay, you have to call the police."

There was no chance for Zhu to protest before the terrifying sounds of gunfire caused Harold to throw them both to the floor.