FSE

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This Forsaken World

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Nine: Howdy, Neighbor

“Hey, April?"

“Yes?" She glances back, from her wagon.

“When did you want to make camp?" He asks.

“Soon. You'll go down the line when we're ready to stop."

“Oh... Okay..."

“You don't have to sound so nervous." She giggles.

“I'm sorry, April. I'm not used to this."

“You're doing fine, Tyson. I'll let you know when it's time." She assures him.

Tyson nods, slowing his pace and stepping back from April's wagon. After the night Rodge Rock attempted to kiss her, she promptly demoted Rodge from second in command to a mere underling. It was only yesterday that Tyson was chosen at random as his permanent replacement; she'd avoided promoting anyone Rodge was close to. It's one of several changes that took place after that night. Augustine, plagued by nightmares of being murdered by Rodge, moved into April's tent. Believing her daughter's dreams to be a sign of some kind, April has done her best to keep Rodge away from them, even appointing a series of guards to watch over her tent during the night, guards who don't and won't answer to Rodge.

Aside from these changes, April also announced their final destination to her people, declaring Searchlight to be the last home they'd ever need. A beacon of pre-collapse civilization, Searchlight was a small but budding city, which hopefully contains enough leftovers and standing structures to facilitate their growth. With a light at the end of the tunnel, and nearer to it than they'd thought, her caravan's morale was boosted, along with their walking speed. For the past few days, they've managed to hike several more miles in each, making more progress in this week than any other.

Several hours pass and the caravan grows weary. They've been moving all day, and it's about that time once again. By chance, a small town in the distance appears unclaimed; the buildings are empty and the streets are deserted, providing them with plenty of room to make camp. Turning back in her seat, April's gaze lands on Tyson. The nervous red fox Voeldahn's amber eyes grow wide and his back straightens. April can't help but smirk at his visible anxiety. With a single head nod as his only cue, he clears his throat, takes a breath, and turns around.

“Close!" He shouts to each driver as he walks alongside the convoy.

As she watches her new second moving down the line, his anxiety seems to dissipate, his voice becoming stronger and his tone more stern as he progresses. He'd seen the raider slayings that April had ordered first-hand. Tyson was once one of the raiders, the youngest and meekest of four brothers. He never wanted to become a raider and lurk the roads, nor was he happy with the lifestyle they'd forced upon him as a teenager; he enjoyed life in their small, quiet town. While he mourns the loss of his family, he credits April with saving his life and taking him from the streets; he has no intention of disappointing her, or squandering the chance she's given him.

“Close!" Tyson orders the last wagon.

Passing by a group of men he doesn't recognize, one of them glares. Brushing it off, Tyson dashes away, returning to his leader at the head of the caravan.

“Look at that fuckin' guy... I can't believe April picked that little bitch." Kane grumbles.

“I wasn't looking." Rodge sighs.

Lying in the back of the wagon, his legs dangling over the edge, he sits up and looks toward Kane. With his short cut hair to accent his canine features, Kane, the black wolf Voeldahn furls his brow, staring at the human with fiery eyes.

“You should've been. He's nothing like you, man."

“Who here is?" Rodge smirks.

“You know what I mean. He's a scrawny little thing, and he's got soft features, like a kid. Not a commanding presence at all. In fact, I'd bet he's only ever read books about guns and never used one!"

“At least he can read."

“Fuck you, man..."

“Hey, it's alright! He can read, and you can bench press him; we've all got our talents." Rodge retorts.

“Oh yeah? What's yours?" Kane raises a brow.

“Keeping you dogs in line." Rodge laughs.

“You know I could whoop your ass." Kane smirks, flexing a muscular bicep. “But I like you too much. You're my favorite pet."

“Then why don't we cuddle more?" Rodge teases.

“Eat a dick." Kane snickers.

Entering the center of the small, one stoplight town, April and her tribe quickly block the roads with their wagons. Unhooking the animals from their harnesses, they corral them in what once was a gas station's fueling area. By late evening they've settled in, their tents and camp furniture strategically placed and several fires built in the few streets. Sitting with her daughter and eating their dinner of recently killed alligator, April looks over a map. Her sapphire eyes scan the parchment as she rather slowly eats a piece of charred alligator meat that's speared onto her fixed-blade knife.

“Looking at the pictures again?" Augustine asks her mother.

“Mhm."

“Are we nearly there?" Tyson interjects.

“Yeah. One more day, two at the most." April replies.

“Good. We've been traveling for a long time." Augustin sighs.

“How long?" Tyson looks to the girl.

“I keep forgetting you're new. Hm..." Augustine rests a clawed finger against her chin. “Weeks, I guess."

“Not quite three months." April corrects her, her gaze unshaken.

“Wow, that is a long time! ... How'd you ever find out about this place?"

April lowers the map, her eyes shifting from the it and turning toward the curious, young, red fox Voeldahn. Augustine turns her head toward her mother. She knows all too well that Searchlight has only recently become their target destination.

“I mean, if you've been traveling that long, how did you learn of a place so far away? Did you meet Travelers or something?" He continues.

April turns her eyes toward Havana, the mouse Voeldahn who sits nearby. The voluptuous, albino mouse woman with flowing, platinum blonde hair also knows the truth, as one of the first of many to be assimilated by the traveling caravan.

“Yeah... Something like that." She murmurs.

“I see... So, what do you think we'll find when we-"

“How many questions are you going to ask?" April impatiently interrupts him.

“I'm sorry... I just haven't been on the road for very long; only about as long as you've known me." Tyson somewhat meekly remarks.

“Well, hopefully that'll end very soon. You'll have plenty of time to learn about Searchlight when we get there." April grumbles.

Lifting her map, the white tigress continues her reading. Augustine's gaze is all the apology he'll ever receive from his leader, and he knows it. With nothing else to do but sit in an awkward silence, Tyson quietly excuses himself to take a walk around the camp. Sitting by a campfire, Rodge Rock spends time with his inner circle. While Damian sits with his girlfriend, and a few scouts sharpen their knives and machetes, Kane uses a small paintbrush and a make-up case full of yellow paint pigments. Spitting into the lid of the case, he moistens a crushed cylinder of dandelion yellow paint, dipping the tip of the brush into it before painting a crescent moon and a few stars onto the fur of his bicep.

“Why do you do that?" Rodge suddenly asks.

“I don't know... I just like it. Black and yellow are my colors." Kane replies.

“I thought it was black and pink?" Damian quips.

“You watching me when I'm getting laid?" Kane smirks.

“Hell no. It's just my favorite color combo." Damian answers with a sly grin, slipping an arm around his girlfriend Katie's waist.

“Babe." She giggles.

“It's mine too, when I'm balls deep in her." Kane quips, eying Katie.

“Babe!" Katie yells expectantly at Damian.

“Hey, watch how you talk about my girl, asshole."

“Don't tell me what to do, little rabbit. I can break you over my leg like a toothpick!" Kane rises to his feet.

“As slow as you are, you'd never be able to catch me before I wear you out and slit your throat!" Damian growls, also rising to his feet.

“You don't have the reach..." Kane grins, a hand grabbing his crotch. “Not like I do! Remember that, Katie."

“You dumb mother fu-"

“If you two don't shut up, I'll kill you both and take Katie for myself." Rodge suddenly and loudly interjects.

The men turn toward the dark-skinned, dreadlocked human. On his dominant hand, he twirls his loaded Hi-Power pistol. While Rodge smirks as though he were joking, both men know better than to challenge him; if push came to shove, he'd almost certainly do exactly as he said.

“Whatever..." Kane murmurs, taking a seat.

“No thanks. I'll keep her for myself." Damian sits beside Katie.

Though she looks slighted by his failure to defend her honor to her liking, she also knows how dangerous the human is. Katie knows better than to force the matter, silently scowling at her boyfriend.

“You wouldn't really shoot us, would you?" Kane suddenly asks.

“Without a second thought. I can get new pets!" Rodge grins.

“That's cold man..." Damian mutters.

“Then, I'd turn your hides into a blanket to cover Katie and me."

“That's why you're 'Rock'. A heart of fucking stone!" Kane chuckles. “Hey, check it out. There's the guy who took your place."

Glancing over his shoulder, Rodge looks back at the red fox Voeldahn who walks nearby and alone. He eyes the young male, who is about his height but with an even thinner build; whereas Rodge is quite athletic, even somewhat muscular, Tyson's form fitting clothes reveal a sleek but unimpressive body. Like Kane, he also cuts his hair very short, revealing the full, animalistic shape of his head; he only grows out a streak of hair between his pointy ears, forming auburn bangs that hang just above his brow. He wears a brown leather gun belt and a pistol, the black frame and a silver slide of the weapon peeking out of the holster that sits at his right hip.

Walking by himself, Rodge and the others witness Tyson kicking a few small rocks with his shoes, his pawlike feet making little noise as he steps on the old concrete slabs of the sidewalk. With his hands in his pockets and a little smile on his face, he seems lost in thought.

“He's kind of cute." Katie suddenly remarks.

“What?!" Damian gasps.

“I mean! ... In an innocent sort of way." She shrugs her shoulders.

“He's like a little boy." Kane snickers.

“Let's say 'hi'." Rodge rises to his feet.

Only Kane follows the human; Damian remains behind with his girlfriend, whom he quickly and jealously interrogates. Swiftly approaching April's new right-hand, Rodge moves in such a manner that he appears angry and ready for violence. Imitating his best friend, Kane matches the bounce and sway of the human. To their mutual surprise, Tyson sees them, takes a hand from his pocket and waves.

“Oh, hello!" He chirps.

Rodge stops in his tracks.

“You're Tyson, right? April's new second?"

“I am!" The fox nods.

“I'm Rodge... You took my place."

“Yeah... I kind of figured. You're the only human in the camp." Tyson remarks, nervously scratching the back of his head.

“And you were just going to let us walk up on you like that?!" Kane asks.

“Huh?" Tyson's brow furls in confusion.

“... How old are you?" Rodge steps closer.

“Eighteen."

“Well, you look twelve... If you're going to be April's second, you could use some tutoring. But first, tell me about yourself, Tye!"

Approaching Tyson, Rodge drapes an arm over his shoulders. Leading him toward the outskirts of the camp and speaking politely, Kane is at first perplexed by Rodge Rock's unusual behavior. However, it soon dawns on him that he's trying to befriend and impress Tyson, probably as a way of staying close to April. They approach an abandoned house near a far corner of the camp.

“And that's when my brothers got us in with a small gang of raiders." Tyson continues.

“Raider's huh... I remember those guys." Rodge smirks, drawing his pistol.

“Yeah..." Tyson sighs.

“Did they ever teach you how to clear a house?"

“Well... No."

“Consider this your first lesson!" Rodge chirps.

“Okay!"

“... Draw your pistol..."

“Oh! Sorry." Tyson clumsily draws his handgun. “Now what?"

“Watch us."

Turning the knob, Rodge finds the house unlocked. Speaking in a whisper, he explains that remaining quiet is a better approach than kicking in the door, if you want to subdue your targets; a loud, violent entrance is a good scare tactic, but armed inhabitants will be quick to shoot. Slipping inside, Rodge uses a compact flashlight held in one hand, his Hi-Power in the other. He sweeps the first room, the beam of light clearing the corner furthest him and scanning the seats before focusing on a nearby door. Entering behind him, Kane sweeps his pistol and flashlight in the opposite direction; both men keep their eyes peeled. Tyson watches in awe.

“Clear! ... See? Not that hard!" Rodge lowers his pistol.

“Okay!" Tyson chirps.

“You try. Clear that room." Rodge points to a door with the beam of his flashlight.

“Sure! ... I don't have a flashlight."

“Here." Kane tosses him a pen light. “Use that."

Taking a deep breath, the nervous Tyson takes his position near the door. He tries the handle, finding it unlocked. Kane presses up behind him, as he did for Rodge. Swinging the door open and racing inside, Tyson looks into the far corner. Kane follows behind, looking into the opposite corner. The amber glow of Tyson's diminutive penlight reflects as he swiftly scans the room. Turning back to the glint of light, he jumps back, his heart racing.

“Hey! Who's there?!" He calls out.

Kane turns his attention, while Rodge steps into the room. Taking aim, the men are stunned to find a teenage Voeldahn girl hiding behind the arm of a futon couch in the darkened room. With black fur, rounded ears and a bushy tail, the squirrel Voeldahn cowers at the sight of the intruders. Her slender legs, pleasant figure and small but perky breasts are clad in a pink and yellow dress decorated with flowers, though her digitigrade feet are bare. The men lower their weapons as Tyson suddenly takes a step closer.

“Hi." He speaks softly. “I'm uh... I'm Tyson. We're not here to-"

“FREEZE!" A voice yells.

Spinning around, Rodge raises his gun and aims his flashlight, only to find himself looking down both barrels of a shotgun. The Voeldahn man who holds the shotgun bears a striking resemblance to the teenage girl, who huddles beside the couch.

“Get'tcher ass outta my house..." The man growls.

“Easy now..." Rodge warns the man.

“Look, we don't mean you any harm." Tyson holds up his hands, his pistol pointed at the ceiling.

“Yeah, right... I seen yer camp, so'z why don't you go 'an join it!"

“That's fine!" Tyson replies. “We'll just walk slowly to the door. No harm done."

“Put down that shotgun!" Kane suddenly yells.

“DADDY!"

“You let her go!" The man turns his weapon.

Spinning around, Tyson and Rodge watch as Kane grabs the young woman by the neck, locking her in a choke hold with his pistol pressed against her temple.

“God damnit, Kane!" Rodge growls.

“Daddy! Help me!" She cries out.

“Y-you let her go! I'mma blast you! I mean it!" The man steps into the room.

Seeing an opportunity, Rodge grabs the barrels of the shotgun with one hand, pushing the barrels away from everyone in the room as he elbows the girl's father in the face. Losing his grip, Rodge steals the shotgun and strikes the man with it, dropping him to the ground.

“What the fuck!" Tyson exclaims.

“Don't ever pull a gun on me like that, you son of a bitch!" Rodge snarls. “Do you know who the fuck I am?!"

“Please, don't!" The girl whimpers.

“Shut up, bitch." Kane pulls harder.

Turning back, Tyson sees Kane holding the girl with a muscular arm, now drawn around her midsection. One of his hands appears to fondle a breast through her dress. Looking at the lone human, Rodge seems ready to execute the man in front of his own daughter.

“Stop!" Another voice yells.

Turning their attention to the stranger, they see yet another Voeldahn. With a similar appearance as the father and daughter, the young man is most likely the girl's older brother. He holds a pistol on Rodge and Tyson, only for two more of his family to join him.

“Are you fucking serious?!" Kane gasps.

“WAIT!" Tyson yells.

Holstering his pistol, he approaches Rodge and quickly pushes the shotgun away from the father, who lay defenseless on the floor.

“This was all a big misunderstanding!" He begins.

“Yer damn right it was!" A brother retorts.

“We thought this house was empty. They were just showing me how to clear one. If we knew you were here, we wouldn't have ever come in." Tyson explains.

“I don't know, man. This one's kind of feisty." Kane quips.

“Shut up!" Rodge barks.

“We'll leave, okay? Let's just all put the guns down."

With a sudden yank, Tyson steals the shotgun from Rodge, handing it over to the brothers, to everyone's shock. As their father rises from the floor, Tyson approaches Kane. Quickly pulling the girl from his grasp, she races toward her family, who embrace her and return the shotgun to their father. The man grimaces at Rodge and Kane. Turning his gaze toward Tyson, however, his expression softens and he nods his head.

“Get goin', 'fore I change my mind."

“Of course!" Tyson chirps.

Moving out of their way, the family watch as Tyson leads the two men out of the room and toward the front door. Emerging from the home, several of their tribe have noticed the shouting from within. Many are stunned to find people living in a house in the town, which they thought was abandoned. Standing on their front porch as Tyson, Kane and Rodge walk away, Tyson turns back.

“Look, I'm really sorry about all of this."

“What's going on here?!" April suddenly asks.

The growing crowd turn to see her wading through them, making her way to the front of the line.

“These yer boys?!" The father asks.

“I'm April, and they're all with me."

“You need to keep an eye on 'em! They came bustin' through my house like they'z owned it!" He growls.

“I'm sorry. They probably thought it was empty; no one was here when we showed up."

“Yeah, 'cause we'z all at a' meetin'!" The man retorts.

“... All?" April raises a brow.

Taking a hand away from his shotgun, he curls his middle and ring finger, inserting two into his mouth and blowing a loud whistle. Responding to the signal, the windows of several nearby houses slide open and people who've been watching in the darkness lean out. All are armed, pointing their weapons into the sky.

“This is our town, and there's a few a' us."

“I can see that..." April murmurs.

“Well, there's even more of us!" Rodge interjects.

“You ain't that big, boy." The man smirks.

“You want to bet?" He steps closer.

“Rodge, shut your fucking mouth!" April shouts.

“See? Boys like that need some discipline!"

“Don't worry about them; they won't act out unless I tell them too, and I won't help them if they ever do." She replies, glaring at Rodge.

“Y'all should prolly go..." The teen daughter remarks.

“But it's dark!" Kane remarks.

“Aww, you scared a' the dark?" The girl's brother teases him.

“You little-"

“Look!" April grabs Kane's forearm. “We don't plan on staying here; we're headed somewhere else. If we keep to ourselves, can we at least stay for the night? It's dangerous, traveling in darkness."

“Well... Alright! But if yer boys come anywhere near my house again, I'mma shoot 'em dead!" The father says, holding up his shotgun.

“And I wouldn't blame you." April nods. “Let's go."

“But April!" Rodge turns to her.

“NOW!!!" She screams.

“That's right... Run along." The father grins.

Storming away from the family and back to their camp, April wades through nearly the entirety of her tribe. Tyson happily follows behind, while Rodge and Kane keep their heads down, embarrassed by her rescue and their public domination. Nearing a relatively deserted portion in the center of their camp, April suddenly turns around. She glares at the trio, her focus shifting to Rodge.

“Whose idea was it... Tyson?"

“It was Rodge... But it was an honest mistake!" He quickly defends them.

April holds up a hand to silence him. Pointing a finger, she motions for him to follow her, before pointing at Kane and Rodge and then at the ground. Walking away and behind a tent, April turns to Tyson.

“Start talking, and don't you dare cover for them..."

Tyson explains their actions, keeping no secrets from his leader. He admits being guilty of an honest mistake, but also reveals Rodge and Kane's swiftness to violence, as well as Kane's apparent interest in the teenage girl. Satisfied that he's told her the truth, April releases Tyson with a simple warning: avoid Rodge and his friends. Emerging from behind the tent, Tyson walks away and doesn't look back, while April storms up to them, drawing her Micro Uzi.

“Stay away from that family and every house in this whole fucking town." She growls, pointing her gun at them.

“April, we-"

“Shut up!" She interrupts. “We're leaving tomorrow morning, so try not to fuck this up. The last thing I need is for you two retards to get us all killed picking a fight with a bunch of swamp people... Now get out of my sight."

Having avoided conflict by the skin of their teeth, she sends away her men, who reluctantly obey. Once they've gone, April holsters her machine pistol. Rodge and his friends are becoming more difficult to deal with. Normally, she'd have murdered them a long time ago, but in her effort to change for Grey, she's trying her best to control them and herself. Returning to her guarded tent, she finds April already asleep in her cot, which sits across from hers. Stripping out of all but her underclothes, April watches her daughter for a moment. Hopefully, they'll reach Searchlight soon, and when they do, they'll have a place to call their own. With any luck, Grey will already be there.

Climbing into her cot, she stares at Grey's pistol, her thoughts dwelling on the human, as they often do. No sooner than she falls asleep, she's plagued by the same nightmares, awakening to damp fur and a racing heart. Sitting up in her cot, Augustine is nowhere to be found. The sun penetrates the gap beneath the flap of her tent, a warm glow radiating through the canvas walls. Looking to her nearby clock, it's 9:41 in the morning. Climbing out of bed, April uses a rag to dry her fur; this has become a morning routine for her. Squeezing into her beloved bodysuit, she slips on the matching gloves, stuffs her pawlike feet into her boots and mounts her shoulder rig.

“April!" Tyson suddenly calls out to her.

Hearing the urgency in his voice, she swiftly checks her trademark weapon before darting outside. Standing beside her second is Augustine and a group consisting of many of her original clan.

“What's going on?!" She asks.

“Come quick!" Tyson pleads.

Following the group, they race for the northern end of the small town. Others soon join them, checking the readiness of their weapons. Many of her boys are already armed, leaning against and lying beneath wagons that block the road. Many of the women and teenage children of April's tribe climb into the wagons, getting a better position as they point their weapons. Motioning for Augustine to stay back, April follows Tyson and several others as they move between two closely parked wagons.

Standing on the other side, roughly ten meters away, is the family of squirrel Voeldahn and those who were with them last night. Accompanying them are many hundreds of filthy, poorly dressed swamp people. Not one of the uncouth yokels is unarmed, a few even wielding unusual choices such as twenty-two rifles, top-break shotguns and single action revolvers. Why have they come here? They know that April and her crew are leaving.

“So... This is April..." A frail voice speaks from the crowd.

“Yeah, mama! This the one!" A man points.

“Well... Ain't she a sight for sore eyes!"

Emerging from the massive group is an old Voeldahn woman. With canine features and a coat like an Alaskan Malamute, her icy blue eyes, even colder than April's, focus on the white tigress through spectacles that sit upon her snout. The old woman is even shorter than the five-foot-three April. The black in her thick coat of fur is streaked with grey, and she walks slowly, with the aid of a cane. Wearing a humble black dress with white ruffles, she has the appearance of a nineteenth century granny. Only the ebony rod she walks with, capped with a solid silver human skull, betrays her innocent appearance.

“Thanks, miss?"

“Fiona, but most folks call me 'Mama Fi'."

“Well... You have me at a disadvantage, Mama Fi." April extends a gloved hand.

“That's how I like it, April..." Mama Fi narrows her eyes, unmoved by the gesture.

“Me too." April lowers her hand. “But for once it's not necessary."

“Oh?"

“I promised your people that we were just passing through." April explains.

“Well, my people ain't me, April. I'm in charge a' the 'Coalition of Families', and this here's our land. I hear-tell that maybe yer thinking a' layin' claim to some."

“Uh..." April hesitates.

“I won't beat around the bush. I respect ya' girl; not many women can hold together a clan yer size, but if'n you think you can come here 'an act like you own the place. Well... we'll kill ya' dead." Mama Fi speaks in an eerie monotone. “And I'm getting' too old for all this here killin'!" She suddenly smiles.

April blinks, her brow raising. She can't help but find some amusement in the old woman who threatens her so casually. In many ways, Mama Fi reminds April of herself.

“So, April... Are ya' jus' passin' through?" Mama Fi leans closer.

“Well..." April rests her hands on her hips. “We do want to settle..."

“Uh-huh..." Mama Fi narrows her eyes.

“We're looking for a town called 'Searchlight'." April continues.

“Oh?!" Mama Fi's expression changes. “What'cha want with Searchlight?!"

“To settle there." April chuckles.

“What for?! Don't'cha know?!" Mama Fi suddenly rolls her eyes. “'Course you don't... Y'all prolly been walkin' fer miles and y'all don't remember life 'fore the television and internet stopped. Y'all don't want Searchlight. Searchlight's cursed!"

“So?"

“So cursed towns ain't a good place to settle." Mama Fi snickers.

“What makes it cursed?" April cocks her head.

“Back when the mines was open, they had a lotta deaths. The city didn't fare all too well either; buildings sinkin' into the swamp and whatnot. They say it took 'em four tries to build the tower lofts 'fore they finally stayed up! One time they even burned down and fell over 'fore it sank."

“That must be the strongest tower in the land." April interjects.

“The whole place is supposed to be haunted like hell, and who you gonna call for that?" Mama Fi smirks.

“Maybe we'll just kill them?" April smirks.

“Heh... Killin' ghosts... I knew I'd like you, girl!" Mama Fi grins.

Stepping forward, she rests a hand on April's arm, her grip soft and genteel as she clutches a bicep. Mama Fi's Coalition all lower their weapons, as do the members of April's tribe.

“Alright! If it don't bother you none, y'all can have Searchlight!"

“Thank you, Mama Fi." April nods.

“We'll keep to our own, and you do the same! We'll be neighbors!" Mama Fi's grip suddenly tightens, startling April with her remarkable strength. “And let's hope we don't have any more 'misunderstandings'..." She says with a sinister glare.

“We won't." April growls, flexing the muscles in her arm.

Looking down at her bicep, Mama Fi takes her hand away. She turns her cold eyes toward April, a grin spreading across her lips.

“Well, alright then! Y'all have a safe trip, neighbors!"