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start of week four.
Chapter 42. Wild Packs of Family Dogs
by Zula
What a rush! Zula was still laughing uproariously as they fled through the streets of Evnara. Behind them, the building that served as the Felldoh's Heirs' prison had erupted into flames. Suffocating dark smoke billowed into the twilit sky.
This was, without a doubt, the most impressive fire she'd ever started.
When they felt they were a safe enough distance away, Brull halted them, plunking Zula back on her footpaws while the rest of the escapees caught their breath. The vixen's giggles trailed off at a rather stern look from the rat.
"What were you thinking, Zula? You could've killed us all!"
"Iz not a thing t' laugh at," Rekkua agreed, scaly arms folded across her tattooed chest.
The vixen shrugged, grinning. "Worked, didn't it?"
Brull had to concede her that. "Well, yes, it worked extremely well, much more'n any plan I'd thought up. But...but that's not the point!"
"Y' mean my whelp did that?" Nelda Higgins cried, pushing her way rudely to the front of the group.
The smile died on Zula's lips. The young fox stared at her grimy footpaws; she found it was much easier than looking her mother in the eye when she was this livid. If only she could figure out a way not to have to hear Nelda's shrieks as well.
"Zula Higgins, what did ye do?" Nelda demanded.
"Lit s'm barrels in th' cellar," the vixen mumbled.
Nelda's eyes bulged apoplectically; she raised a paw and opened her mouth to unleash what was certain to be a tirade like never before, but Rekkua cut in, "Pleaze! Not zafe here. Muzt keep moving! Be angry later!"
"C'mon, everybeast, the Oasis is this way," said Zula, but she flinched at Nelda's snarl of disgust.
"I am not goin' t' that hellhole."
"Then stay here an' rot!" Brull growled.
What was Mr. Sheriff doing? Zula wondered. Nobeast talked to her mother that way and got away with it. Sure enough, Nelda stalked forward, her nose inches from the rat's. Brull looked rather surprised at the vixen's aggression but stood his ground, his beady eyes narrowed fiercely.
"If you think I'm about to go crawlin' to that disgustin' place," Nelda said tersely, "you've got another thing comin'. Y' don't understand, sir, I hate that vixen with every scrap o' me. If word got out I'd set so much as a claw in that place..."
"It's like I said," Brull insisted. "If you don't like it, stay here an' rot. We don't have time for your stupid rivalry. Come on!"
The group carried on down the street. Zula gave her mother an apologetic glance. Nelda glowered at her, but followed her daughter as she trotted to catch up with the rest of the escapees.
~
Though the former prisoners had split off into three different groups after their initial escape, it appeared that Brull's group was the first to arrive at the Oasis. Zula had never been allowed to set foot in the place, of course, but she couldn't help but notice how nice it looked. It was a big stone house with steps leading up to the front door. It just looked...nice. Zula couldn't think of a better word for it. None of the flashy, lurid décor like the Golden Brush. No beasts made to stand outside and lure males inside. Zula sighed at the thought. But then, of course, that could just be because nobeast was home. Still, it did not make any attempts to stand out from the other buildings around it, unlike the Golden Brush, whose flaunting colors attracted beasts to it like the proverbial peacock.
Zula heard her mother give a disgusted snort. Clearly she was not a fan of the peahen motif.
Brull and Rekkua made their way up the stairs first. The former tried the door, but it was, as Zula had suspected, locked up tight. Rekkua tapped the rat's back with a claw and motioned for him to step back. Bracing herself, the big lizard slammed her shoulder into the door. At first, it shuddered but stood firm, but on the monitor's second try it burst open, revealing a glimpse of the dark interior.
The escapees trudged up the steps and into the Oasis, whilst a few beasts scurried about to getting the lamps lit. Before long a golden glow revealed that they were in a sizable entrance hall, though there were several rooms and a set of stairs leading to a second floor.
"What do we do now?" a ferret asked.
"For now we sit tight," Brull answered. "Wait for the other groups t' get here. Er, make yourselves at home, I guess?"
Zula felt her stomach give a massive rumble, and it was only then that she remembered she hadn't eaten since breakfast at Sarkleyet's. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten to be hungry in all of today's excitement. As far as her priorities went, food was a matter of deepest importance.
Slipping away from the group, Zula soon located the kitchen. She poked her head into the pantry, which wasn't terribly well stocked, but it looked like there would be enough to keep them going for a while. Filling her arms with as many vegetables and herbs as she could carry, Zula plunked them down on the counter and began chopping them. Dumping them into a big pan filled with water, she made a couple more trips back to the pantry until the pot was full. Taking her flint and tinder from her vest pocket—and grinning at the thought that this was the second time they had come in handy today—she lit a fire beneath the stove and soon had a hearty stew simmering.
By the time she came back out to the main room, the other two groups had arrived, but Brull and Rekkua looked worried.
"And you're sure you never saw her?" Brull asked a weasel from one of the other groups.
"Nope."
"Er." Zula cleared her throat. "Soup's on!"
Brull looked up from his conversation, surprised. "Soup?"
"Aye," the vixen said. "I made us some soup, Mr. Sheriff, Sir! I only 'ope there's enough t' go round."
Rekkua chuckled. "Zo t'at iz where you went."
As beasts filed into the kitchen for their supper, Zula hung back with Rekkua and Brull.
"What's wrong?" she asked them. "Is it Miz Pearl?"
"Well, that," said Brull, "but we sort of knew she wasn't gonna be with us right away. It's Pearl's kit, Sandy. We've searched and asked around but nobeast's seen her."
Zula patted the rat's arm encouragingly. "Ah, don't worry, Mr. Sheriff, Sir. Sure an' I bet Miz Pearl's on 'er way here right now with Sandy!"
The rat gave her the faintest of smiles. "She'll be fine," he said, but it looked as though he was trying to convince himself more than anything.
He started for the kitchen but paused. "Oh and, er, thanks for dinner. I didn't know you could cook."
"'Twas m' pleasure, t' be sure," Zula said, grinning. "Me mam an' the others kept themselves busy all th' time so sometimes I 'ad t' cook fer all of us."
The stew turned out to be quite a hit, and afterwards the escapees settled in for the evening, relaxing and discussing their narrow escape earlier and the state of things at Evnakt. Zula had gathered up all the bowls, mugs, cups, and whatever random receptacles beasts had found to eat their soup out of, and was just tottering into the kitchen with the first lot of them when she noticed she wasn't alone.
Nelda stood at the sink, gazing out the window. Every so often she swigged something from a bottle. Zula didn't know what was in those types of bottles, as she was forbidden to drink from them, but all she knew was that she never wanted to find out. Whatever it was, it made beasts act strangely. It made her mother angry. And still she drank it. How could somebeast keep drinking something that made them so mad? Zula never understood it.
Zula set the bowls on the counter next to the sink, and Nelda jumped, finally noticing her daughter's presence. The older vixen's amber eyes were slightly unfocused, her brow furrowed.
"What d'ye want?" she growled.
Zula took a careful step backward, twisting the hem of her patched skirt nervously. "Nothin', Mam."
"This's all yer idea, wasn't it?" Nelda slurred. "You were th' one that decided we should come 'ere. T' this dump."
"Mam, it ain't a dump," Zula mumbled. "It's ni—"
"It is not nice!" Nelda barked, slamming the bottle down on the counter. "How many times 'ave I told ye? We don' associate ourselves with th' Oasis whores, ever."
"But why, Mam? Miz Pearl is nice. If it weren't f'r her we couldn't 'ave saved ye. Y' should get t' know 'er."
As she said the words, Zula felt a rather unpleasant twinge somewhere in the realm of her stomach. She had not even expected to find her mother there, waiting to be rescued with all the rest. Part of her almost wished she hadn't been there at all.
A part which grew exponentially when her mother's pretty face twisted into a rather ugly scowl.
"I will not get t' know 'er," she growled. "She's an amateur, a has-been, a disgusting little tart." Nelda snatched up the bottle, tilting it back to drain the last of it.
Zula frowned defiantly at her mother. "I think she's nice."
The vixen jumped as her mother threw the bottle to the floor and it shattered all around their footpaws.
"Zula Higgins, if y' so much as talk back t' me again I'll give y' the tannin' o' yer life! Upstart little wretch!"
"Everything okay in here?"
The foxes turned. Brull had poked his head in the doorway and was eyeing the shattered glass curiously.
"Everythin's fine," Nelda barked. "I was just 'avin' a word with m' daughter b'fore y' interrupted. I'd keep yer nose out o' me business if'n y' know what's good fer ye."
Brull glared daggers at her but obviously could not think of a reason to overstay his welcome. He retreated, muttering, "Next time I'll just save half of 'em," and shut the door behind him with a snap.
Zula watched her mother resentfully as she rummaged around in the cupboards, looking for more to drink. At last she emerged with another bottle. She yanked the cork out and guzzled a good amount, swaying slightly on her footpaws. She set the bottle down, and only then she seemed to notice Zula hadn't gone.
"Look at ye," she sneered. "Daughter o' Evnara's finest courtesan, with big fat glasses an' all covered in rags. Am I s'posed t' be proud o' that? Why do y' even wear that thing?" she asked, jabbing a claw at her faded green vest.
Zula's face flushed with heat. "Mam..." she whimpered. "How can y' even say that? It's...it's his."
"Oh?" Nelda cackled. "An' I s'pose y' reckon y' can bring 'im back with it?"
The words stung Zula so badly she put a paw to her mouth. Nelda's callous, drunken sneer was more than the young vixen could handle.
"No, Mam," she said slowly, hot tears springing to her eyes. "I know 'twon't bring Pa back. Y' made sure o' that."
Zula heard the smack before she felt the pain. Her mother's claws had scored deep into her cheek. She staggered backward, treading painfully on a glass shard. Rubbing at the blood trickling down her face, she stared up at her mother, eyes wide with agonized horror as Nelda grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.
"Yer a filthy liar!" she shrieked.
"B-but Mam," Zula sobbed, tears pouring from her eyes. "I saw y' do it. I know 'twas you."
"Liar! Worthless child! Get out o' my sight!"
Nelda flung her in the general direction of the door. Zula stumbled out, shutting the door behind her. Perhaps she was just hearing things, but she could've sworn she heard the faint sound of sobs coming from the other side of the door.
"Zula? What is it?"
Brull hurried over, looking alarmed at the blood on her face. Zula quickly wiped it with a sleeve, wiped her eyes with the other, and put on what she hoped was a convincing smile.
"N-nothin', Mr. Sheriff, Sir. Just tripped, that's all."
"She hit you?"
Zula limped to the nearest sofa and flung herself down on it. "Please, Mr. Sheriff, Sir. Just drop it. It ain't worth it."
Brull looked angry. "Want me to hit her back?"
Zula looked up at the rat, pleading quietly, "Drop it. Please."
Brull did not look at all comfortable about the matter, but he sighed. "Okay."
Zula wiped away a stray tear before it could escape her eye and fixed a smile on her stinging face. "R-right, so. What's our next move, then, Mr. Sheriff, Sir?"