The Herochan sighed as she looked out at the rolling waves of the ocean. Beside her, Baby Blue did much the same.
“What happened to us?”
Neither answered the question, letting the silence hang between them.
“I remember those early days, back before it all got so out of hand,” Baby Blue said to her friend at last. “You weren’t even a Hero yet, and I was just an experiment. We were fueled by his dreams and his charm.”
The Herochan chuckled. “He is cute, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he is.” Baby Blue smiled at the thought and wiped a single tear from her own furred face. “Do you think he knows how much some of us love him? Not the Creator crap, but true honest love.”
“Do you?”
Baby Blue nodded. “I do. It’s why I continue, for him.”
“You realize how pathetic that sounds, don’t you?”
The silence between them spoke as loud as anything she could have said.
…
“If these things are as dangerous as you say, then we have to run.”
Rosalyn sighed, her frustration growing. “We can’t! The only one here who can teleport isn’t done healing, and we don’t even know where we could run!”
“The border is right there,” Benson countered. “There’s a small church just on the other side of the shallows we could run to.”
Margarita shook her head.
“We would never make it. That is an experienced hunting party. They already have at least one or two behind us to cut off any retreat.” She looked the elder human in the eyes. “If we move, they will catch us, they will kill us, and they will eat us.”
“So what do we do?” asked Timmy. “If we stay here, things won’t be any different.”
“He’s right,” Ignacio said. “At least out there one of us has a chance of getting away.”
“No,” disagreed Yolanda, “out there all of us would die. If we make a stand here, we’ll at least have a chance.”
Rosalyn nodded in agreement. “If we control the battlefield, we’ll control the fight.”
“What’s that mean,” asked Timmy.
Margarita smiled. “It means that we fight on our terms.”
“How?”
The three girls just looked at one another.
Ignacio sighed. “Well don’t you have any ideas? Do you even know how many there are? What weaknesses do they have? Their strengths? How smart are they? Can they tell one of us apart from the other? How will they react to certain death? What about mercy? Would torching the trees help? What about digging a tunnel? If we can’t run, then at least tell me you have a plan!”
“How long have you been holding that in?” asked Benson as he lit a cigar. “I like it.”
“What about her?” Timmy asked pointing to the bound and gagged Charmelons on the floor behind him. “Will she fight?”
“I don’t know,” Rosalyn told him honestly. “But now I think I have a few ideas of what we can do.”
…
She watched as they worked outside.
They flung dirt everywhere, like the worthless dogs they were, one shovel and a host of hands gouging into the dirt.
Her eye narrowed behind the field specs.
Something was wrong, and it didn’t make any sense.
Two were missing, one of the traitors and her prey.
The young soldier sighed and looked to her Commander.
It wasn’t time yet, but soon. Very soon.
…
“Fuckit all to hell!”
Ignacio threw the chunk of wood down and felt for the splinter lodged in his finger.
“This is just fucking great!” he shouted to his bound and gagged companion, sitting in the corner of the basement. “I hate this shit! The damned war, monsters trying to eat me, having to wear a fucking bandage to keep my head from suddenly dying, and now a goddamned splinter in my finger!” he punctuated by displaying the offended digit.
She said nothing behind the gag.
“Well maybe fate doesn’t want me to,” he growled at her, knowing what she wanted to say. “I sure as hell don’t want to anymore. It was… a good dream.”
He sat down on the earthen floor dust billowing around him with his collapse. Although the smell of musty basement was much stronger down here, the added support was needed as he began to work on his finger.
“At first it was the same nightmare.” He chuckled lightly. “I guess I never got over their deaths. But then she came to me, and slapped some sense into me. My own dog-faced angel of mercy.”
Although unable to see it, he could feel her eyes rolling.
“Let me ask you a question that won’t make much sense,” he resumed. “How can you accept social oppression, this weak state of mind, in our time?”
Without waiting for a response he continued. “Racism, sexism, prejudice, this war… later someone will say that that’s what this was all about, a showcase for those beliefs.”
He winced and pulled at his skin.
“Sometimes life hurts. But what do you have to gain in the end?” he asked. “Me, I fight to live. I can’t wallow in regret or I would drown in sorrow. I’ve got to my penance first. But what about you? What will you do? Once all of the humans are dead, what can you do? Eventually you will go wild and slaughter each other without end.
“Or will you set up camps of humans to be your slaves? But you can’t hold us too long, unhappiness and repression leads to anger and rebellion. So you have to kill someone, make an example out of them, and now you have a martyr. Hell, two-thousand years ago, the Jews killed one of their own for much the same reason ‘You are not the son of God,’ they said. ‘You can’t pretend to be so.’ Do you know what happened after that?”
Ignacio grunted and pulled the splinter from his skin.
“We won’t go away, and we won’t fade into the background.” He smiled and stood up. “We chose to struggle and live. You have to choose for yourselves what you want to do from here.”
…
Yolanda nestled the hardened rock into place.
Like many of the others, it probably wouldn’t do them any good. It did, however, make her feel a little easier to know that she was actually doing something instead of just waiting.
“Why haven’t they attacked yet?” Benson asked as he began packing dirt around the rock she had just placed.
Yolanda shrugged. “They’re foxes. Maybe they were hoping we would run.”
“Thrill of the chase?”
“Something like that,” Rosalyn said from the roof. “They also have a specific target in mind. They probably won’t attack until they know where he is.”
Benson frowned. “But they do know where he is.”
“She wants to see him,” Rosalyn explained. “She has to know.”
“Really?” Benson questioned the dog-girl as he finished packing the dirt.
“It’s just a matter of patience,” Rosalyn assured him.
…
The pack answered her growl with their own.
The Commander nodded to them.
They howled into the night as one pressed play to the tape deck strapped to the edge of the tank.
The cords of the song powered through the air, trumpeting the call to war.
…
Rosalyn nodded from her place in the trees as the tank tore through the woods, a black viscous liquid spraying everywhere it went from every nook and crevice in the vehicle.
She held on tight, watching and waiting.
…
“Ole!” shouted the driver as they jumped the pit.
The tank crashed down hard, burying itself in the soft dirt.
“Kill ‘em all!” came the cry.
Gouts of flame fired towards the cabin.
…
Margarita focused hard, summoning forth a wall of ice to crystallize before her.
At her side, her sister-daughter rose into the air, icy wings fully extended.
“You dare to challenge us?” she cried, launching forth a wave of fire and ice at the vulpine attackers.
…
The white light broke through the darkness, illuminating the faces of the three humans.
“Happy birthday assholes,” Benson said and dropped the flare on the trail of black liquid.
The three humans ran as the forest around them erupted into flames.
…
“I’m going to fucking kill you when this is over,” Margarita yelled at her sister-daughter as they dodged the flamethrower blasts. “This is why you don’t show off.”
“I didn’t think they’d take it so personally,” complained Yolanda as she rolled away from a short burst. “They’re playing with us you know.”
Margarita smiled. “That would make them foolish.”
“Slash and burn or sugar rush?”
“I’m thinking sugar rush,” Margarita shouted and dove to the side.
At that moment, the tank became nothing more than a metal fireball.
…
Timmy grabbed at a nearby tree, panting for breath.
“What’s wrong?” Ignacio asked as the kid let go of him.
Benson wiped the sweat from his brow and opened the action of the double-barreled shotgun. Satisfied it was still loaded, he snapped it shut.
“I can’t breathe,” Timmy finally managed.
“How far is it?” Ignacio asked Benson.
“Too far,” the older man said. “We gotta keep moving.”
As they ran off, she dropped from the trees, her crimson fur blending into the fiery night sky.
…
Margarita kissed the ground, letting it freeze beneath her touch as she avoided another fireball. “This is getting a little too close for me!” she shouted.
“Same here,” Yolanda answered from the sky. She dropped to the ground. “Let’s change it up.”
The icy wings fell to the ground as her body grew a deep red. Margarita smirked and fell into step behind her sister-daughter.
…
When the one called Typhonna arrived, she reshaped the lands on a whim. Although Africa was the first, the continent of North America was quick to follow.
Surging waters had cut through the earth and rock, dividing what was one. As she had made her way up through the land, the waters followed, creating an expanse that was several miles across. For now, the waters were shallow, but it would only be a matter of years before the tide wore deeper.
They were calm, almost placid, as Benson, Timmy and Ignacio burst from the tree line.
“This way,” Timmy told the blind kid as he marched into the water.
Ignacio waded in after him, holding tightly onto the youth’s shirt.
“I’ll spot you,” Benson shouted at them as he walked up to the shoreline.
There was a rustle in the trees and a squawk of a bird. He looked back, his eyes searching the darkness.
Nothing, not even a sound.
He pulled back one of the hammers to the shotgun, and raised it to his shoulder.
…
Margarita wiped the sweat from her brow. This heat was downright killing her.
One of the Tank Vixxens barked at her, almost as if it were a dog.
She stepped out from behind her sister-daughter and cupped her hands together. The Tank Vixxen went flying through the air as a stream of water shot out.
Yolanda laughed and brought her hands together. The flames of her body shot out, wrapping around one of her vulpine enemy.
…
‘BOOM!’
Ignacio felt his side shatter to pieces as he was thrown to into the water.
“What the hell?” Timmy twirled around to see Benson, gun smoke slow to fade into the air that surrounded him, the shotgun raised.
“Stand back Timmy,” he shouted, “I don’t wanna have to shoot you too.”
The waters around Timmy were turning murky red. He stood there, in complete shock.
Ignacio pulled himself up, holding onto the kid for support.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” he cried out.
“They want you,” Benson answered flatly. “I’m not gonna die like this.”
“So you’d just kill someone in cold blood?”
Benson’s eye grew narrow, piercing through the misty waves. “If that’s what it takes,” he said coldly. “I’ve done it before.”
He pulled back the second hammer to the shotgun.
“I’ll gladly do it again.”
…
The Commander picked herself up from the ground. Blood poured down her face, mixing with the dirt and grime.
How had things turned out like this? There were only two of them, and her family was dying around her.
A blast of water slammed into one of her sisters, throwing the youth into a flip that ended in the ditch. Another sister tried to block the flurry of blows from a girl who wielded a flaming blade. One arm hung from a tree above them, blood still dripping down.
It was obvious what had happened, they had been outfoxed.
She knew what she had to do. Vengeance would be hers.
The Commander hoped her sisters would understand.
…
Rosalyn sniffed the air.
It was strange. Only one of the pack had chased after the three humans.
In the distance, she could hear the sounds of fire and battle. She pushed them out of her mind and focused on the task at hand.
The lives of the humans depended on it.
She moved quickly, hoping she wouldn’t be too late.
…
Yolanda slashed her flame blade forward, the fires piercing through the one-armed fox-girl.
Bloody fingers grabbed her by the throat.
Dismissing the flame blade, she grabbed the vulpine wrist with one hand while taking grasp of a fox ear with the other.
A foaming muzzle snapped at her face, spittle and dirt splattering across her face.
She pivoted, swinging the Tank Vixxen down as hard as she could. The two slammed into the soft oily dirt.
Yolanda tore the hand from her throat.
She pinned down the fox, straddling it between her knees.
With a thought, fire erupted from her hand and she plunged the blade deep into the girl’s skull.
Yolanda threw back her head, and screamed into the night.
…
“Don’t make me shoot him,” Benson shouted at Ignacio.
Ignacio stepped closer to the catatonic youth at his side. “You’ve lost it! No one needs to die!”
“You don’t get it do you?” cried Benson. “It won’t end until you’re dead.” He blinked, the mist of the water starting to pool along the barrel of the firearm. “As long as you live, those things will keep chasing us. You have to die.”
“And when will you kill him so you can live?” Ignacio cried. The water wrapped around his waist like a cold vice. “Is this how you treat all of your friends?”
“The world grew up,” Benson told him. “You should too.”
Ignacio looked across the water at him. He reached up and removed the bandage from his head.
He stepped away from Timmy and spread his arms. “Fine then, take the shot.” He tapped his chest lightly. “Just remember, if the foxes don’t kill you then the girls will.”
Benson starred at him, his eye twitching slightly. The gun felt cold in his clammy hands.
“I hate this shit.”
He lowered the gun.
…
Yolanda grabbed the fox tail.
The Tank Vixxen fell face-first into the ground, throwing dirt everywhere.
“Just die,” she cried, ripping the hose from the base of the furry tail.
The vulpine woman screamed in pain as Yolanda climbed to her feet. She kicked the fox-girl in the face, blood spewing everywhere. She then stomped her foot down, smashing the girl’s nose.
“Just fucking die already!” she screamed, pounding the limp body repeatedly.
There was a soft crack, and the body moved no more.
Yolanda pulled her clumped grimy hair from her face. Around her the fires raged. The bodies of her enemies littered the soaked ground.
She was tired and ragged.
A stream of water sent another fox-girl flying into the flames.
Yolanda smiled at her sister-mother, just as covered in the oily dirt as her.
A gleam of metal shimmered in the smoke, and with a thought she moved.
…
“You poor stupid man,” she snarled, grabbing the gun barrel.
The metal grew cherry-red to her touch, while the man cried in pain as she grasped the back of his neck.
“You are all my prey,” she declared, ripping the gun from the man’s grasp. “All of you.”
Tossing the firearm aside, she threw the man into the water alongside his two companions.
“This hunt ends now,” she said. She raised her hands, a metal tube held tightly in her hands.
…
As soon as Yolanda disappeared from in front of her, Margarita heard her sister-daughter cry out.
She whirled around to face the sound, a pillar of flame in front of her.
“No!”
The fire fell to its knees. A burning hand reached out to her.
“This is how I chose to live,” whispered the charred flesh.
“No!”
Margarita grasped the hand in her own.
“Thank you,” gasped her sister-daughter, “for letting me be free.” Thick black tears streamed down her burning face.
The hand fell limp, and the body fell to the ground extinguishing itself.
“How sentimental,” spoke the killer of her flesh and blood. The fur was bright red and the flamethrower in the clawed hands was a tarnished black. The eyes were crystal blue, cold and deadly.
Margarita screamed, fury and rage enveloping her.
…
“Are you sure?” Baby Blue asked the psychic.
“Yes,” the Ka-D-Bra nodded. “We have them.”
The First Borne stripped off her robe. “Then show me,” she ordered the psychic.
The two disappeared in the night.