FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Thunk-thunk. Thunk-thunk. Thunk-thunk.

The sound echoed throughout the concrete caverns as a ball bounced from wall to floor to owner over and over. The hand throwing the ball was a glowing ice blue that continued all the way up its arm and across its shoulder. There a mirror of the blue met the first field and raced down the thrower's back. Partway down, an ovoid field of a glowing, neon purple split the blue river into two streams that met again just above the base of a long, bushy tail. The tail became less and less blue until it became whiter than snow in sunlight. The blue continued down the fox's legs before ceasing at the ends of his hindpaws. Across his front, from under the muzzle to the place where the legs began, was the same bright white as the tip of his tail, only broken by three evenly spaced bands of neon purple. His head started as the ice blue at his shoulders but started fading into a midnight blue that ended at his muzzle. Down the bridge of his snout and across his eyes were two final strips of glowing purple that formed a cross. His ears faded from midnight blue to an ominous black at their tips and his eyes were the grey of an icy wind.

The Arctic fox was clearly not an average fox. Nobody in the farm could claim that title. He was one of the many EvoFurs that filled the thousands of cubes lining the walls of this pit. About one hundred years ago, in the year 2413, the Evos had just suddenly started being born, marked only by extremely odd and often glowing colorations of their fur. Nobody really knew what that meant until they started turning ten and older, when they began to be called Evos. At that age, they began taking on at least one new physical evolution, sometimes as simple as being able to control surface body temperature or gaining night vision their species does not have naturally, sometimes as complex as growing extra tails or being able to breathe fire. Norms got scared and started attacking Evos as they grew older, leading to massacres on both sides. This became a war that lasted until about fifty years ago, when a strange explosion in the sky wiped out eighty percent of all furs on Earth. The remaining government came up with a video of an Evo who'd exploded and burst a fusion core drive in the planetary shield, causing the whole catastrophe. From then on, all Evos were forced to live at the hellish Evo Containment Facility, more commonly known as the Cube Farm.

Not that it had been billed as a hellscape when Lee, the fox bouncing the ball against his outer wall, was twelve and had finally been caught. His parents had helped him paint and dye white until he could shift his fur color at ten. He'd begged to go to summer camp with his friends two years later, a mistake that cost him his family and his freedom when he didn't get up before the camp counselor. He hadn't been able to shift his fur white or brown when the covers were yanked off, exposing him as a monster and an abomination to the world before being driven home by police. When they'd pitched it to him and his family that night, it had sounded like a place where he didn't have to hide anymore, a place where he could be free from judgement because he could live amongst furs just like him. He'd be left in peace, make friends, even contribute to the progression of society as he grew to be an adult. He'd even get to see his family once a month!

It had all been bullshit and lies. After thirteen years, Lee had learned how to translate the brochure. Come down to the Cube Farm! Hiding isn't even possible here because our heavily armed, highly trained staff will just track you down and beat the shit out of you for your efforts. You'll be underfed to prevent your health, crammed in a bathroom sized cell and stripped mostly naked to get rid of that pesky decency, and branded with a number id to alleviate you of that burdensome individuality. Don't worry about forgetting what you are, the guards will make sure you know just how much of a freak you are every day! You won't see other furs outside of a cell more than two hours in a week, but you'll have their agonized screams to keep you company all night long! And let's not forget how you'll be going through constant experiments, job details, torture, and even obscene death games all to help contribute to the public without them having to see how things really happen down here! You will get to see your parents once a month, but if there's even a hint that they know more than what we tell them, we'll have them killed and start sending you fake letters like you can't tell the fucking difference! Last but not least, if you so much as say the word escape, we'll send you to the lower levels, and nobody's ever come back from there! Have fun waiting for the sweet embrace of death to take you. Fun place really.

Lee's parents already knew and had been sneaking him little pieces of contraband to give him some kind of escape plan, but they didn't really know enough to send much of any real help without little notes encoded in his letters out. They never seemed able to tell him what was going on topside, but he'd stopped caring after his eighteenth. He just wanted out, and by any means necessary.

Today was going to help with that some. It was rec day, the one day a month most Evos were allowed out into the courtyards for whatever activities they could do before the guards got bored and started beating them. Lee had woken up in anticipation of the ordeal, finding himself quite restless. Hence the ball-throwing.

He didn't have to wait terribly long before he heard the heavy clumping of boots coming from down the hall and quickly hid the ball in his mattress before moving to stand in the designated zones for Evo/guard interactions. Once there he laced his fingers together behind his head, bowed his head and dropped to his knees. His tail swished idly and his ears twitched when the clumping boots stopped in front of his cell door. The door opened with a hiss and two large furs clad in body armor stepped in. Lee gave a sniff and identified them as a Rottweiler and a timber wolf. The smell of hay and cheap beer told him they were from the country and the wolf's cologne gave him the final clue. Lee almost smirked at how handy hyper senses had proven to be. He opted not to, though, as the hicks in question would have beaten him for it.

"Rise and shine, six-two-nine," twanged out the Rottweiler.

"Yeah, ya wouldn't wanna miss yer precious yard time, woodja," agreed the gruffer sounding wolf.

"Come now, why don't we all attempt to be civilized and use each other's names! What do you say, Clovis? Red?" Lee paused as he began to smell the anger coming from the large canines before him. "Oh don't tell me you've forgotten my name! How embarrassing! It's Lee Sanders! That's L-e-e S-a-"

"Ya don't have a name anymore, filth," grunted the dog known as Clovis as he socked the butt of his rifle into Lee's abdomen, resulting in a grunt from the fox.

"Now gitcher ass back in position, six-two-nine," growled Red as he did the same.

Lee quickly and silently resumed his prisoner's pose and remained silent as the two cuffed him and stood him up. He was smiling in his head despite the beating. He'd played the grunts like fiddles and stolen all of their ammunition into his shorts before jamming their primaries. The idiots that had locked him away for so long still had no idea he had been using fur shifting to hide his other two prehensile tails, even after thirteen god damned years. They deserved everything that happened today, and then an extra serving for each scar on his body. He had to calm himself so the two morons wouldn't catch on at all. The trio made their way down to the courtyards with the inbreds occasionally knocking Lee to the ground for going too slow or too fast or stepping too loudly etcetera. Lee could have easily beaten them as his standard exercise was practicing different martial arts and building up hidden muscles beneath his mystifying fur, but the plan required him to reach the yard first. Besides, the more they underestimated him now, the easier it would be to topple them later.

Eventually they'd snaked through enough of the metal and concrete tunnels to arrive at the bulletproof glass door that served as the gate to the rec yard. Clovis knocked Lee down to his knees before buzzing for the brute on yard duty to take the freak off their hands so they could drink and play some more cards. The guard that met them at the gate before buzzing the gate open was an enormous golden-brown lion with a fiery mane named Sampson. The two canids backed away from Lee and let the large feline take him through the gate with a watchful eye. He shoved the fox through the door for good measure, sending him sprawling before being pinned to the ground spread eagle. The two hicks smiled and wheeled around to leave and shoot the shit.

Sampson watched the two leave before picking Lee up and dusting him off. Lee smiled as he felt the handcuffs being removed from his wrists. A large hand ushered him to the yard.

"Sorry about that, Lee, those two don't leave unless they see pain," came the lion's deep voice.

"I know, big guy, don't worry about it. Is everything else in order?"

"Should be, Russo is expecting you and the tower watchmen are unarmed."

Lee gave the giant a grin before steeling his face for show. The lion had appeared in many ways to be a wet dream for guard recruiters. He was huge, strong, and had ten years experience as a special operative for PlanDef on top of a decorated career as a police officer. He'd graduated top of his class at a conservative university and came from a fairly anti-Evo town and so on. What none of the background checks had shown was that his college girlfriend had been executed for fighting back when she was discovered to be an Evo. He had proposed to her the night before and called her Picasso for the blue flecks across her back. Needless to say, he was happy to aid every last prisoner in a mass escape.

He shoved Lee a few more times for show before depositing him inside the concrete yard. As the lion sauntered off, Lee made his way to the center of the yard and looked around expectantly. He was so busy searching for a familiar fur's face that he jumped a bit when a paw tapped him on the shoulder. Smoothing his fur back down, Lee placed one hindpaw behind the other to turn himself around and face the offending fur. He quickly relaxed upon seeing the face of a strange looking canid.

The fur was Horatio Russo, a tanuki from Spain who had been a first year in high school when he was pulled in. This had happened about two months before Lee had been brought in from the States, and they'd ended up befriending each other as the only two around the same age. He was two years older than Lee but was approximately the same height at six foot. His canine face was only distracted from by the coon-like mask around his eyes. He had a pretty standard outer pelt of fluffy browns and whites with a long undercoat of greys and blacks in meshed and mashed streaks and patches. Nothing about him really seemed out of the ordinary other than the random green swirls that glowed brightly through his coat, including the jade mask across his golden eyes.... that is, not until his tail. Where most other tanukis had a one-foot long, kind of bushy tail, Horatio had a tail that rivaled his own body in length. The thing was about five-and-a-half feet long and a glowing jade color. It was bushy as hell in the winter, but since the warm days of summer had arrived it looked more like a fuzzy length of thick rope, especially due to the man's habit of coiling it around his waist to keep it out of the way.

Lee smiled at the sight of the curious looking fur, only stopping when a guard eyed him.

"Buenos días , zorro," said the older canine.

"Morning, Ray," Lee replied.

"En Español, por favor," Ray said.

"Buenos días, perro mapache," Lee said with a sarcastic sigh.

"Good, now we need to talk quickly," Ray whispered while looking over his shoulder, presumably at one of the guards watching from the central block. He rushed Lee over to one of the weight racks on the farthest wall of the yard, a sort of deaf spot where there were no mics, no guards, and no way to read your lips for a five minute block while the center block was busy watching victims and the cameras were going through a full sweep. This would occur in another three..... two...... one..... bingo.

"So is everyone ready, Ray?"

"They've all been doing like you said, steal ammo and jam the primary."

"Good, that's the only gun most of them practice on and they won't be able to reload the pistol, so all we have to do is keep them from an armory and we can have a mostly clean break from here."

"Gage has been planting his distractions in as many places as he can."

"With enough luck some of them got confiscated to the quarters and their gadget rooms. That'll help clear the paths some while they try to get out."

"Amber has been conserving energy and the twins are meditating over in the corner."

"Fantastic, we'll need the extra weapons when they pull out the golems. Plus we'll probably need Amber to punch a hole out for us."

"Sam and Timmy have been running sabotage duty on the posts and Luke has been stuffing inventory in convenient places."

"Map?"

"Already slipped it into your shorts while one of the bastardos was coughing."

"Great, we might even have an edge then, but let's not jinx it."

"Michelle is..... well suffice it to say he is ready and on edge."

"He won't have to wait very much longer, we do it on my signal at the gates."

"Preacher is praying, of course."

"Can't hurt our odds, now can it."

"Garret won't be coming, says he will help us to the walls, but he cannot leave all the other poor furs trapped here."

"That's fine, he's said as much before, I've planned accordingly."

"Everyone else is standing by."

"Good, any new players?"

"One. Our side. You're not going to quite believe it either."

"Don't keep me waiting, damn it, I hate suspense."

"He's a dire wolf."

"There's a Reco down here?"

"His name's Roger and he's heading this way to meet you."

As if on cue, a large paw that looked as though covered in paint splatters descended upon Lee's shoulder to shuffle him over. Lee looked at him and indeed there was a member of an extinct species of canines with an extremely unexpected fur coloring. He was close to seven feet tall and built like a wall. His left ear had a bite mark in it and the right was pierced with seven rough metal ringlets. He had a scar over his left eye that would have left most furs blind, but the blood red of his piercing eyes proved this was not the case. He was clearly the North American variant, looking more like a puffed out wolf then a strange dog. He would have been extremely intimidating if not for his fur. This was a snowy white overall, but the rest was random smatterings of technicolor that made the poor thing look like a splatter painting. The end result was an odd mix of strength and softness that made Lee more unnerved than anything.

Recos, short for reconstructed species, were an extremely rare breed. They had started off just an idea, a concept of reconstructing the DNA of ancient fur species that had died out. Then there had come funding and results. All of a sudden, once dead species were walking around and repopulating like it was a normal occurrence. It should have been, but the same hatred that afflicted Evos also victimized Recos, resulting in them siding with Evos during the Shattered War, as the whole ordeal had come to be known. They weren't hated nearly as much as Evos after the video and the Evo laws came out, but they weren't welcomed either. Lee had had a Smilodon for a friend before being carted off to the farm and the poor girl was constantly abused. He wondered where she might be now, without Lee looking out for her. The one before him must have had it even worse being both.

The behemoth surreptitiously slipped him a paw and Lee shook it, snapping out of his slight funk.

"Lee Sanders."

"Roger Lemon," the dire answered in a deep yet quiet voice.

"Good, the both of you are acquainted!"

"Right," said Lee. "I don't know what you can do, but I do hope it's useful if they brought you in this late."

"Let's just say there's a very good reason he keeps silencio," Ray said with a wink. Roger simply nodded before walking off, presumably to his assigned post for the plan. Lee registered the series of gestures for understanding and turned back to Ray.

"Alright, two more minutes before we have to split up, anything else I should know?"

Ray rattled off a series of facts about weather conditions, guard schedules, and other pertinent details before the two nodded and separated. Lee made his way to the chess board and began playing a game with a rather wizened panda. He spent the rest of the three hours he had in the yard in this manner, occasionally looking over his shoulder to check for the guards who would take him back to his cell. The last check yielded the sight of the two hillbillies smiling at the prospect of 'escorting' him again after he'd embarrassed them that morning. They would never get their revenge, though, as Lee gave a high-pitched whistle picked up only by other canids. When he saw Ray nod, he stood up, thanking the old man for his game, and walked over to the gate to be let out by Sampson. After shoving Lee through, Sampson went to be relieved by the next guard to babysit before heading to his post. Lee, now in restraints, looked up at his new prey with conviction before walking himself between them. They knocked him to his knees for good measure and he smiled, the keys to his restraints now in his paws.

"What're yew smahlin' 'bout, fuckface?" It was the gruffer voice of Red.

"Yeah, six-two-nine, yer not s'posed tah smahl down 'ere, ordja fergeht?"

"That's not my name," Lee growled.

"The hell'd yew just say, six-two-nine?" Clovis questioned before turning to sock his victim in the stomach and missing.

"I said," growled Lee as his restraints clicked off and fell to the floor, "that's not my name." He was now in a fighting stance before his shocked captors, all three of his tails now visible. The two growled and raised their weapons too late as Lee flew across the gap with a High kick and smashed Clovis' gun straight into his muzzle, smashing a few of his teeth and sending him to the ground dazed but not unconscious. Before Red had a chance to respond by pulling the trigger, Lee planted his left hindpaw on the ground before swinging his right into the wolf's left temple in a roundhouse. The sickening crunch told Lee he'd broken the fur's neck and likely killed him. He walked over and took the wolf's sidearms and closed the body's distant eyes with two fingers before strolling to the sniveling Rottweiler hunched against the wall. He pulled the slide back on the matte black X-91 Gatlin pistol and lowered it to his side. When the dog raised his primary, Lee grabbed it and kicked against the dog's braced arms, snapping them like twigs. He pulled a homemade silencer from his shorts and screwed it to the end of the pistol's barrel before pressing the cold tip beneath the whimpering dog's muzzle. His face screwed up with disgust for the bastard's puplike whimpering before relaxing into a cold stare. He removed the second fur's sidearm before screwing another silencer to it with one of his tails. This gun simply slunk down over Lee's knee as he knelt down to face the dog eye to eye.

"What's my name, pissant?" Lee asked with no emotion, cooly pressing the muzzle further into the fur's muzzle.

"L-L-Lee Sanders," whimpered the pathetic mutt.

"Good, don't forget it," Lee said. He then flipped the pistol and cocked the dog in the side of the head, knocking him out cold.

The fox took a minute to steal a few clothes from the still bodies before mounting the map holo Ray had snuck him onto his wrist. Now donning a black shirt, tight tan cargo pants and a black bulletproof vest with Security written on it in yellow block letters, the fox began making his way through the halls to the rendezvous site. Along the way he did his best to avoid guards, relieving the few he did meet of consciousness along the way. If everything was going to plan, Garret would be sneaking the children into the vents and the others would be making their way to checkpoint alpha while the three guards on their side were causing chaos in the system. They'd then race out to meet their compatriots at checkpoint bravo and would help other Evos as they came along. At checkpoint charlie they would pick up the kids from Garret who would return to help others escape after they released all the victims. Last would be checkpoint delta where they obtained transportation and finally exited the facility.

Lee kept going over the plans and contingencies as he made his way to a stash left by Luca. He stopped to pop open the appropriate metal grate and found it led to a standing closet with a cache. He took the time to change into a blue and gold Synthsuit that would match his abilities and provide light armor without restricting his movements. He gave a few test kicks in front of him before clicking on a holster harness and sliping his pistols and ammo in bandolier style. He found an old blue cap that sported a logo for the St. Louis Blues and smiled. He'd been wearing it when he was stripped down upon entering the farm, having been a gift from his father who came from a long line of loyal fans and he needing some home comforts at the time, and he knew that Luca had meant this cache for him. He made a mental note to thank the kodiak later and slipped the cap on backwards before grabbing a Remy C692 Thermal Shotgun from the back of the cache and heading back into the halls. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a click behind his head.

"Don't move, asshole," said the, based on the smell, Clydesdale behind him.

Lee smiled and squeezed the trigger of the pistol his assailant hadn't noticed, running as he heard the equine's muzzle explode. He shifted his fur for hyper camo and stuffed his hat under the chest of his suit to avoid responding guards. When he heard footsteps around a nearby corner, he jumped to the ceiling and climbed past the patrol on the pipes above.

Once past, he dropped down and donned his cap, returning to visibility for the sake of his companions he hoped would be arriving around the same time. He sprinted as alarms sounded, keeping careful track of guard scents as he did so. Soon he arrived at checkpoint alpha and was greeted by the barrel of a ZT-9 Pulse Rifle.

"Jesus, Ray it's me," he whispered loudly at the sight of a paw with green swirls holding the trigger. The gun lowered and Lee did a quick head count. There were twenty-five in all, most prominent a red fox vixen, a skunk, two teenage red pandas, an albino mouse, a badger, and a dire wolf aside from Ray himself. He turned to adress each in turn by name.

"Amber, you, Josh and Jemma are going to be floating near the front and sides to make sure we survive an open attack." The vixen, fur glowing like fire, grabbed the identical blue pandas and positioned them accordingly.

"Gage, wait for my signal to set off your traps, hang close behind me to make sure you hear it." The purple skunk nodded and punched a few keys on his holopad.

"Preacher, you're in charge of the weaker furs, protect them as best you can. Michelle, hang in the middle with him until you hear a call for support, then go nuts." The badger flexed his chest muscles, causing the cross around his neck to sway, and gripped his sunny yellow paws together to crack his knuckles. The glowing mouse simply nodded and drew swords from seemingly nowhere.

"Roger, you're in rear with any other furs who can hold their own in case of a firefight." The dire nodded and waved a buff otter with glistening ruby eyes, a black jackal with golden bands around his limbs, and a lithe snow bunny with purple streaks in her head fur to join him.

"Ray," Lee said, addressing the canid now wearing an emerald Synthsuit of his own, "you're on point with me."

"I'll take long, you take short," he replied, joining his friend at the front. Lee nodded and the pack of furs moved out to take checkpoint bravo. This was an important step, meeting Sampson, Timothy and Luca at the largest armory. If they didn't take it, the opposing guards would be able to resupply a full army, and even the combatant furs they had would not be able to stand against that. They were already going to have enough trouble when the golems came into play. Lee made a point to mention this to Ray who made a comment about hoping it didn't come to that.

"What's a golem?" Roger whispered loudly.

"GOLM, Guard Operated Light Mech," Ray responded.

"They use them to restrain the bigger guys that come here, guys like you," Lee chimed in.

The dire nodded and resumed his watch. A couple of guards swept in from the front left and Lee dove in between two, raising his shottie and obliterating them while Ray popped two pulse rounds in the remaining third's skull.

In response a platoon of eight guards rounded back to the pack's rear. Lee clicked his tongue twice and Gage pressed a few keys, causing the ceiling to collapse over them. The pack snaked through near endless tunnels, heading topside as much as possible. Occasionally a lone guard would attempt to blindside them and Preacher would hurl a chunk of wall into them or Michelle would deftly slice them to ribbons. The rear crew would shoot up stragglers and the floaters would prevent ambushes. Things were going smoothly until a heavy gunner stoppedin the middle of the hall. Lee shouted for everyone to dive into the halls before the large tiger squeezed off a few hundred gatling rounds. He noticed one fur get up when the shooting stopped.

"Roger!" Lee shouted but the dire shushed him before planting himself in the hallway. He breathed in heavy, solidifying his stance. The tiger laughed and raised his minigun for another burst but never got the chance. It clicked for Lee who signaled for everyone to cover their ears a split second before Roger let out a high, intense screech that shook the foundations of the walls and shredded the sadistic fur. When the sound stopped he walked over and easily shouldered the former fur's weapon and turnied to Lee.

"Let's go," he whispered in that intense voice of his.

The rest of the journey to checkpoint bravo went by relatively smoothly compared to that incident. They finally reached the centeal armory halfway up the farm where they were ushered in by a familiar lion. Inside they were also met by Timothy, a brown dingo who served as a shock trooper, Luca, a Russian kodiak with grey streaks in his chocolate fur and a grenade launcher in his paws, and a surprise fourth guard.

"Who's this?" Lee inquired staring down the thick black jaguar with two old school sawed-offs in his paws and four more clipped onto his bandoleros of black powder shells. The jaguar stared back with garnet eyes.

"This is Semket," said Sampson. "He saved our ass when a few commandos dropped in on us, blew their heads clean off. He's cool, Lee."

Lee smiled and shook the broad feline's paw.

"Welcome aboard, Semket, you make thirty. Listen up everybody! This is our last chance to weapon up before we hit topside, so if you can shoot, grab a gun and as much ammo as you can carry. Otherwise, grab supplies and a pack. You'll need to carefully consider every ounce, so prioritize food and medicine over clothes. Clothe yourselves, though, we have a forty minute window while Gage takes over the cameras and slows down the guards. Don't take too long, but personal effects are here, so if you have time you can grab a piece or two. Load up!"

The pack scrambled around grabbing mostly generic items and weapons, though Lee did notice a few noteworthy pickups. The otter dropped his autogun in favor of a lightwieght flame pack and several canisters of fuel before digging through effects and emerging with dog tags and a red bandana he wrapped around his forehead. The jackal started hoarding energy cells and picked up a laser rifle before slipping a charm Lee hadn't seen him grab around his neck. The snow bunny grabbed a set of chakrams from the wall before loading up on more ammunition. Roger grabbed another minigun and thousands of rounds before heading to personal effects and returning with a strange collar around his neck.

Satisfied, Lee popped a hatch forty minutes later and began ushering the pack out. The next point was checkpoint charlie, the air duct release point. The childen were safe in the ventwork while the pack was causing mayhem, but they would be extremely vulnerable upon exit into the fields above, especially with golems running amok to contain the situation. Roger came up beside Lee, bringing him to the present with a paw on his shoulder.

"You okay?" He asked in a staticy tone at normal volume, chuckling when Lee appeared shocked. He gestured vaguely at his collar. "Sonic regulator, controls by turning the dial in front, allowing me to weaponise myself by choice."

Lee nodded understanding.

"I'll be fine, big guy. Gage! Release the hounds, up to the level below us then add each floor we pass."

The skunk nodded and clacked away again, opening the doors to every cell beneath them.

Satisfied, Lee raced the group ahead through increasingly dangerous fights until they reached a landing ten floors below the surface. Here he paused long enough to let some minor wounds be tended to before racing through the final ten floors. He was about to pop the hatch and release them into the light and fresh air above when-

"Golem!!!!!!!!"

It was Ray who shouted. Lee ordered all but the combatants to hide above the hatch but was cut short by a loud sniper shot cracking into the mech's windscreen. He turned around to see a fifteen year old wolf with pitch black fur and electric blue streaks. The boy was hanging upside down through the hatch with a large rifle in his paws. The mech's operator was bleeding to death in his seat.

"Well don't just stand there," the boy said, "do somethin' with it and climb up!"

Luca pulled the dead weasel out of the mech and a crimson streaked mink woman took it's place before the pack clambered theough the open hatch behind the young wolf.

"Well done, Kiba," said Garret, a ferret with an unnusually elastic body. He looked over to Lee and nodded before taking his leave to assist more furs out of the tunnels, leaving Kiba in charge of the ten children the pack absorbed into thier ranks. The young wolf barked a few orders before climbing atop Roger's shoulders and took up sniping position across the dire's neck. Roger didn't seem to mind so Lee ordered a full run to the vehicle depot. Amber and the twins blasted away a few more golems in explosions of electricity and heat and Roger and Kiba dispatched several heavy gunners to the hereafter on their way.

There they loaded into a giant humvee and sped along to the concrete barrier. Amber got out and placed a paw on the concrete monstrosity and watched as it heated up and exploded out before climbing back into the covered truck as it was speeding away. Luca sent grenades flying into the motorcade that followed as Roger sent several hundred rounds down wind. Ray wove the monstrous vehicle through trees as they entered the nearby forest as Lee leaned out and destroyed the engine block of an encroaching Nuke Jeep, sending it flying into a tight group of three behind it. A few wrecks later the pack had left the forest without a hint of the guards who had followed them.

Lee let out a whoop and pumped his fist in the air like one of the cheesy movies his dad used to show him. He was free, finally free! He had Ray keep driving until the truck ran out of gas and the pack of forty had to walk. Where they went now, no one cared. They simply went.

*************

The metallic room began slowly filling with smoke as the large, obese rat at the head of the long central table lit up another cigar in silence. There were several smaller furs trembling around the table while staring at the fat rat in the forest green suit. They were all too afraid to ask why this figure had called them there, all of them too sick with worry that it could cost them their jobs or even their lives. The rat kept them waiting longer and longer as though he knew how much he was making them squirm. He stared at a document on the holo before him as he shook some excess ash from the glowing tip of his Cuban.

"Does anyone," he rasped, cancerous voice echoing across the metal chamber, "care to explain how this happened?"

The furs, many sheep or dogs or squirrels, confusedly looked amongst each other for some kind of answer. What had happened? Whose fault would it be? Were they safe? The rat chuckled with a sickening crunching sound escaping his throat.

"Of course! I only pay you far too much money to tell me everything about my facility and none of you have even heard about the mass escape that I just received word of from a radio!"

There was a collective swallowing of throats as each of the furs stuck at this table felt the hangman's noose gripping tighter and tighter around his or her throat.

"Well, now that you know, can anyone tell me why my inescapeable facility designed to make the drones left on this planet feel good about themselves has just had its security ripped to shreds and over two hundred Evos escaped? Anyone?"

As the rat bellowed the last few words, most furs were trying to avoid eye contact. Suddenly, one of them, a grey tabby cat with large black glasses and a clean lab coat, cleared his throat, causing the whole room to look at him.

"For one thing, your hiring practices need an update, four guards were clearly helping prisoners escape."

The rat stared at him, amused by the analytic coolness the cat was applying to this rather bold gesture of directly answering him.

"Go on," he rasped.

"For another thing, it appears that there was no actual cataloguing of the Evos' abilities or activities, as the footage shows a fox taking down two very armed guards and killing one simply by catching them unaware with appearing tails and then using martial arts he clearly taught himself while in prison. Not to mention all of the walls are made of heat expansion weak concrete when there was a different fox able to transfer massive amounts of heat through her paws."

The cat paused to clean his glasses, the rat smiling at him as he did before gesturing for more information.

"None of the guards knew that an otter who used to be a Howling Commando for the EDF and a mink from the Corps of Combat Engineers were under their watch, not to mention the child genius who came back to collapse ceilings on their heads or the national junior stunt shooting champion who exploded their faces. Worst of all, they became complacent in a prison filled to the brim with extremely dangerous Evos who could have killed thousands of them if not for the restraint in killing several of them showed. And when the fox who orchestrated all of this was caught on camera with contraband such as rubber balls and occasionally stolen tools, he was only punished by further beating."

The cat had the fat rat beaming as he sighed deeply to prepare himself for the final statement in his assessment.

"Really the reason this occurred was due to an assumption that your facility is inescapable when next to none of the extra research necessary went into making it so. Therefore I'd have to say that the person responsible for this is yourself, Chairman Greenehertz."

The room was deathly silent as Greenehertz took one last long drag of his cigar and put it out in an ashtray. The drones all jumped when this same imposing figure rolled over in an oozing, bubbling belly laugh.

"What's your name son?"

The tabby cleaned his glasses once more before answering.

"Dr. Romulus P. Gladstone."

"Well Dr. Gladstone," Greenehertz said, pausing for another momentary fit of laughter, "you're absolutely fucking right! I grew complacent and relied on the incompetent drones you sit amongst to keep the farm coasting. However, if you noticed this, why was none of this information brought to me?"

"New hire to the team, Chairman, I had just arranged my office and started data mining when this meeting was called. I brought the little findings I do have with me to share as I assumed there would be some amount of call and response to the proceedings, though I'm embarrassed on behalf of my coworkers that they are far less prepared than I am."

"Gladstone, I think you and I are going to do some beautiful things together. But first, what do we do about the escapees?"

"Why do anything? The loss has been contained, and they likely have little real chance of long term survival out in the Deadlands. The only concerns are if they attempt to rescue their former prison mates, which is remedied by addressing the numerous unchecked security concerns, and if they attempt to go public with any stolen information, which can only occur in a city they will likely be shot for even setting foot in. Therefore, a simple risk assessment shows there is no real reward for hunting them down and potentially millions of dollars to lose. Instead, make it the government's fault so we can increase funding for the necessary improvements without cutting profits, they become responsible for the capture of the furs, if any attempt comes of it, and you come out unscathed so that stock value doesn't crash."

"Like I said, Gladstone, you and I are going to do some truly beautiful things together."

****************

After several hours of hiking the pack came across and raided an old Pre-Federacy store called a Walmart. There were enough survival supplies for them to camp somewhat comfortably for a while, and though Lee could tell some of the materials would not last very long, that was a worry he could allay later on. After the war, there had been many such stores left to the elements when all the furs started moving into the safety of the Capitals and garrisons. There were settlements that had sprung up not to far from these as population started rising again, plus the Reclamation cities, but that still left more than sixty percent of the world's former cities and towns uninhabited. There would be another chance to take supplies as long as they avoided scavvers and Evo hunters.

The crew couldn't walk anymore due to some of the elderly and children in the party, so they decided to camp out in the husk of the store for a time as they regained some energy. The otter with ruby eyes started a fire in a particularly barren patch of store while the others set up two-fur to four-fur tents for the night. Soon the thirty-six Evos and four sympathetics were gathered around the pile of burning furniture, huddling for warmth as the icy night wind swept through the missing chunks of concrete and steel rebar. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Roger drew out a pencil and a large leatherbound notebook from his pack.

"What's that for?"

Roger turned his head to see that it was the skunk who had been collapsing ceilings with a standard holo who had addressed him.

"Well, I think it's best that we inventory while we're stopped for the night," came the tinny response from Roger's regulator. "Now I know you like your holos and gadgets, but a good old-fashioned journal can't be hacked." Gage nodded approvingly and Roger continued. "I think everyone's too tired to do an itemary inventory, but I think we should keep track of who we are. I know it sounds wierd, but I used to live in a nomad pack, and writing down who you are, even if just as a reminder to yourself, can keep you from going feral or worse."

"I agree," Lee joined in. "Making it official gives us definition, and that's something we're going to need when the us-or-them instincts kick in."

Roger nodded.

"Precisely, it makes us a community, not a pack of lone furs."

"What do you propose we write down exactly?" Preacher pounded out in a thick Scottish brough.

"Everything," Roger responded flatly. "Everything about who we were before the day we were taken from our homes. Our names, our stories, our hopes, our dreams, our accomplishments. If you don't share it here, at the very least I reccommend that you write your own account of it all. I also reccommend a continuing account of the experience, a diary or journal if you will."

"That's a good idea," the ruby-eyed otter agreed. "The psych officers used to maje the guys in danger of PTSD do that during rough tours. Saved my cranium more than a few times. Didn't really matter what you wrote about, neither. Some would write prayers, some body counts, some even kept note of flora and fauna, so long as they wrote some account of the day they were fine."

"Right, it's not something anyone will read, just you," Roger continued. "I took the liberty of putting some notebooks and pencils on your packs so you can partake if you wish. For now, though, I'd like to make a record of everyone present, children included. Who'd like to start?"

Silence rang out amongst the group, only penetrated by the crackling fire before them and the sounds of fur shifting. Roger looked from fur to fur to see if anyone would venture to begin, finding no takers until he looked at Lee who gave a resigned sigh.

"I guess I will. Most of you already know me, but I definitely don't recognize more than a few of you," he started, wringing his paws some as he spoke. "I'm Lee Sanders, an arctic fox from Timberline. That's one of the reclaimed cities up near northern New York. I haven't got much family, most of them didn't exactly make it through the process of reclaiming the city. There's my mom and dad, of course, James and Mary Sanders, and my brother, Sam, plus a few cousins. They were all hiding me together back then. Mom was doing that long before me, and Sam was also hiding his girlfriend, who I've heard he married and had two kits with in the past five years. I was twelve and at a summer camp when I was discovered. Usually the hyperthought, hyper senses and fur shifting would have let me hide my tails and my patterns before someone noticed, but I was mostly asleep and there were a number of furs clogging my sense of smell. I'm 25 now, turn 26 on August 7th. That's in a few months, if you lost track of time inside. I never had a job, per sé, but I did always step in for furs who I felt had to struggle with hatred. I wanted to somehow make that my job, make myself someone who could protect a smilodon girl or a fox with three tails or a boy with a boyfriend or a so-called weaker fur from the assholes out there who just hate their existence. Moreso I wanted to make myself someone they could come to if they felt no hope. I think that's really everything."

Roger, who was quickly scribbling notes, looked up at this.

"I actually have another question," he said. "Other than combat, what are your major survival skills or expertises?"

"I used to go out with my brother on salvage runs once I was old enough to do so, probably seven, but I'm not too certain," Lee began. "Before I could go I had to learn everything my dad could think to ask me about the Deadlands and show him I could do it. During the summers I'd even go a month in the Deadlands, and I think it's safe to assume I didn't get rusty from having to survive the farm"

"General survivalist," Roger said to himself while nodding. "Alright, who's next?"

One at a time, the different furs revealed their former lives.

The ruby-eyed otter, who's name was Matthias Pfelt, was a former Howling Commando. He had served seven years attached to the Earth Defense Force before anyone had thought to order him to take off his rose-quartz glasses inside. He had hoped his good buddy would'nt report him, especially since strength and speed were all he got out of being born an Evo, but that had been asking too much. He had left behind a boyfriend back in Stafford, but the letters had started coming in last year, so he didn't hold out much hope there. He was 32 this year, his ex would have been 31. He had no other family having been disowned before he graduated high school. He was marked under general survival as well.

Gage Collins revealed that he had been a very successful hacker back when he had a life. He did the math and decided he was 29 as of two weeks ago. Five years prior he had been shutting down businesses that had... disagreeable moral stances on things pertaining to him. Then the police had knocked down his door in Celex and, upon seeing his fur pattern, shipped off to the farm. There wasn't even a family to miss him.

Preacher, actually a priest named Father Deacon Hagan, relayed his time as the vicar of the Curch of St. Dismas that he had built after Edinborough became a wanderer's settlement, a ruined city anyone could take haven in on the way to somewhere else. If they felt like it, the passers could and would stay, adding their own ramshackle abodes and makeshift storefronts to the ruins of a former metropolis. Preacher had been a priest during the war, but had been stripped from the church when Scarsbrough was raided. Afterwards he fled to Edinborough to shepherd a flock of wayward or hiding lambs, people the church would have condemned for one reason or another. The hunters had done a sweep of the shanties the year he turned 45 and he'd been in the pit for thirty years. He was good at building, aided by the fact that he could shoulder a redwood and level ground with his fists, but he was also talented at handcrafting most anything. He had been married to a lovely badger female back when he was younger, but she had died during the war. It was a tragic story he refused to tell.

Amber Wilder, the fiery-colored vixen whose touch caused things to violently break apart, had been a runaway turned scavver in the woods outside what used to be Seattle. She had been caught when her luck and so-called friends had run out on her, leaving her stuck in the pit until her twenty-second last month, around the time Lee had approached her to join the plan.

The Lao twins, the blue-furred red pandas with electric fingertips, had fled the Bamboo Hills in China when the Triad killed their parents. They survived in different cities on the east coast by stealing and making "mystical artifacts" for some time, even changing their names to be more American so furs would readily trust them. Unfortunately, you can only pass electric blue fur as an aura for so long, and for them it had been shortly after they turned fourteen. They had only been in for a year, but that had been plenty long enough.

Michelle Bernard was a fourth-generation freedom fighter back in the French countryside. His father had taught him the art of swordplay from an early age and he had used it to slice open hunters and destroy those who wished to continue oppressing Evos. He had sacrificed his freedom ten years ago when he saw that not all of his brothers could escape otherwise, using his extreme agility in an attempt at a final stand. Instead, the, at the time, 25 year-old albino had been detained somewhat skillfully, but his brothers had already left.

So the circle went, familiar furs, to Lee anyways, introducing themselves and spilling their stories before arriving at the new faces and children. The jackal was a thirty year-old Egyptian Prince named Set Assaf, though he looked like old world depictions of Anubis. He and the mink, a 32 year-old former member of the Corps of Engineers named Mary Manning, claimed a great deal of skill with mechanical and agricultural pursuits. The snow bunny revealed herself to be a college-aged punker named Lola Bree who could really only fight and play music. Most of the guards gave a short introduction as to why they had sided with them, though Semket remained mostly quiet and gave almost no personal information, opting instead for a list of his skills. Finally, it came time for Kiba to introduce himself.

"Hi, I'm Kiba!" The small wolf's body shook as he waved happily around the circle, his voice a squeaky sort of drawl that made the more maternal furs sigh and daw at the boy. "I don't have a last name, really, my folks were Tribals without a pack. We were living on this nice man's farm or ranch or something, I don't really know what it was, but it was back out in Texas! Lotsa places to go huntin' out there. That's what I'm really good at, Daddy taught me how to clean it and stuff when you bag one. I learned how to shoot real good cause Mister Rain, that's the nice man we was staying with, he taught me how to shoot a rifle. I thought trapping little hares was good eatin', and fishin' was just bonus gravy really, but I couldn't believe how much we picked offa that first buck! Then another an' another an' another, 'til Mister Rain, bein' he was such a nice man, started me in contests fer shootin' an' such! It was awesome! I'd git trophies just fer doin' somethin' I loved doin'! Only 'ception was I hadda cover my fur in pitch or somethin', Daddy said it was cause some people don't take kindly to folks with different fur." The boy's face turned down at this and his previous enthusiasm evaporated from him.

"I didn't know what he meant, I just thought he was talkin' 'bout the jerks who tried to pick on me cause I'm so darn small." To emphasize his point he waved his paws across his body, mostly exposed save for a pair of shorts keeping his dignity.

"I already never paid 'em no never mind, seein' how they was just jealous I can shoot better an' I can run faster an' whatnot, so I just didn't think it mattered, but Daddy said it was important so I did it. I took a shower after one of my matches, even though Daddy says I'm s'posed to wait 'till we get back to the ranch, cause my fur felt too darn sticky to walk, what between the pitch an' the sweat an' the darn musk from the adrenaline. I did it quick, an' I was gonna put more on, but there was a pit bull came in an' started shoutin' at me." Small lines appeared in Kiba's cheek fur as he noiselessly cried a tear at a time. Nobody dared to interrupt the poor thing, knowing there were only a handful of things he could say next and that none of them were easy.

"He's shoutin' about how it's bull that I'm winnin' cause I'm a dirty Evo..... b-b-bitch," the word leaves his lips screwed up like he has a bad taste in his mouth. "He's gettin' angrier an' angrier an' starts chuckin' stuff around. I'm scramblin' to a corner tryin' to find a way outta here, but he's just gettin' closer an' angrier." He sniffles as his paws start stroking his own arms, like he's trying to give himself a hug.

"Then he picks me up an' pins me to the wall, still call in' me a... an' then he starts swingin'. I heard a few ribs crack an' I could barely breath. Then he...... he.... he ripped off my clothes an just threw 'em aside, still swingin' at my face. Then I hear 'im droppin' his drawers an' his belt an'.... an' he says he's gonna make an honest b-b-b-b-..... BITCH outta me." The circle is silent save for a few tears being shed. Lee's right paw clenches in furious anticipation of the small wolf's next words. "Then he.... he....."

"He raped you," Lee finished with a growl, sensing the boy didn't have the strength to say it. He balled his fist tighter when the boy nodded.

"Daddy found 'im an' beat hell outta him for it, but they was already comin' to take me away. Daddy got 'em to least take me to the hospital, but soon as I was better I was wakin' up in a cell. I ain't seen Daddy since then, even though it's only been two years, an' I can't help it but worry." He sat in silence for a long time before Mrs. Everton, a kindly old beaver took his paw in hers.

"It'll all work out now, dearie, you'll see," she crooned, giving the boy the boost and distraction he needed. He snuggled into her and started drifting off to sleep like the other cubs, each one oblivious to Kiba's story.

The many furs began to separate, each streaming off to their own tents, unsure of how to handle Kiba's or really anyone else's pasts. Soon only Lee, Ray, Matthias and Roger remained.

"I don't really have a tent partner yet," Roger said, "and I'm assuming none of you three has thought it through either.

"Not even a bit," grunted Matthias. Lee and Ray just nodded their agreement.

"Well I'm not picky," Roger continued, "so whoever doesn't mind me taking up most of the tent, and most likely snuggling you like a teddy bear in my sleep, and yes it's because I used to have one, offer away."

"Sounds fun," Matthias chuckled under his breath so that only himself and Lee heard it. He gave Lee a quick wink when their eyes met, then turned back to address Roger. "I'll take you up on that, Rog, but if you snore I'm muting you until morning."

"Deal," chuckled Roger, and the odd pair slowly made off to their tent.

"They look like a giant kidnapped a dwarf," Lee said.

"¿De qué estás hablando?"

"Ray, I know you speak perfectly good English."

"What are you talking about?"

"Roger and Matt."

"I assumed as much, zorro, but I do not understand the reason for comparing them in such a manner."

"Matthias plans on claiming the gentle giant."

"What?!"

"Mhmmm, he said as much but I was the only one who heard it."

"Interesante...."

"Come on, tanuki, let's head in."

The two exchanged nods and glances before retiring to their tent and drifting off into dreamland