FSE

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The rooflines blurred against the fading sunlight through the eight power scope. The small crack in the far lens distorting the image at the top. It was a very small town, probably less than one hundred people when it was still vibrant and alive. Main street was a complete wash with the tightly packed storefronts now only husks of burnt-out buildings. Budding around it like weeds, small and affordable single family dwellings grew up around roads that were laid out before the days of extensive city planning.

The crosshair stopped on one in particular. Through the slats of a hasty barricaded window, a faint light flickered. It was the only sign of life in the dead place. Large ears flicked and swiveled as they scanned for any sounds. The cacophony of crickets and cicadas was all they could detect.

Moving a paw off the grip and up to the bolt, it lifted and slid back as the fennec's thumb pressed against the round caught in the extractor. He moved off the cheek weld and looked down at the brass case. Under it in the internal magazine were two more, sitting and waiting their turn to slide up and into the breach.

With a sigh, the bolt moved forward and locked down. Three shots from a barrel longer than the creature himself wasn't a good prospect for approaching anything. Anyone out this far from the enclaves still surviving either had a lot of knowhow, a lot of firepower, and more likely a lot of both.

Distant thunder rolled behind the fennec and he sighed again. He recognized the large shelf in the clouds and had been running from the the better part of the day. It had left him hungry and tired, both points that hurt the chances of surviving an encounter with another out in the far wastes. But it was also the first decent shelter he had seen since waking up and seeing the storm on the horizon barreling toward him.

He eased up form his prone position on the rocky overcrop and began making his way down.

#

Johnathan ran toward the trio of landscaping boulders under the crabapple tree. The surplus store BDU blouse that was far too big for him flapped like a cloak as he made his dash to cover. His paws clutched the shoddy camouflaged paint wooden stock of the toy rifle. He pressed up against the rough concaved surface and peeked over the rock, pointing his orange tipped muzzle at the unseen advancing horde of enemy soldiers.

Daniel came up beside him in the nook and followed suite. With a discordant assortment of imitation gun noises, the fended off wave after wave of the pretend bad guys. It wasn't until Daniel climbed up on top of the boulder and stood in the open that Johnathan yelled out.

"They got a tank, Danny! Get down!"

Daniel laughed as he lined up shot after shot with perfect aim. Each 'pew' dropping another foe. The fearlessness was inspiring, so Jonathan moved over to another of the boulders and climbed atop it. Mimicking his friend, he took aim and fired. Again, and again, and again. That was when the unthinkable happened.

Daniel gripped his chest with a gasp and a long moaning exhale. He slumped down and fell over on top of the boulder with a groan.

"Danny," Jonathan yelled as he hopped from his boulder over to his friend. He knelt down and cradled the wolf in his arms. "Stay with me, Danny."

"Johny?" the wolf said as his eyes glanced around in an exaggerated pained tone. "They got me."

"I told you to stay down."

"I thought," he paused to cough a few times, "they would get you first. Those ears are so big. Like giant targets above your head."

"Jerk," Jonathan said before he dropped the wolf.

They both laughed as they tussled with one another, pushing and play fighting. It wasn't until there was a sharp crack and a low rumble that they stopped and looked toward the city. The blue sky of their summer vacation day was turning a mix of pinks, oranges, and violets.

Storm sirens all around their quiet suburb started to blare as they watched the mixed cloud of color obscure the distant skyline.

"What is that?" the wolf asked.

"I don't know."

"Johnny!" they heard from behind them.

They turned to see the fennec's mother running toward them.

"Mom?"

"Come one," she said frantically as she scooped Jonathan in her arms and grabbed Daniel's wrist. "We have to get inside."

#

The fennec stepped over the broken glass on the cracked sidewalk in front of one of the old shop facades. Burnt timbers and heat fractured bricks littered the path, but it was still the best way to approach the house unseen. Peering through one of the large windows and past the missing back wall. He pulled the rifle sling and swung the stock up into his grasp.

With a peek through the scope lens, he scanned the boarded window of the house. The faint light flickered through the slats, but was obstructed as a shadow moved across it before it came to life again. Someone was inside.

He slung his rifle and made his way around the building toward an alley. Hugging the wall, he came to a small set of chainlink fences that once denoted property lines of back yards. The small house at the end of the row on top of the hill was the one where the signs of life were. He moved in a crouching walk, stopping when the lighting flashes illuminated the area, then swiftly changing his position just in case whomever was there had a lookout posted.

When he was at the last fence on row, he stopped behind a burnt-out sedan that had flattened a section of the chainlink fabric. He pitched his ears up and listened in the direction of the window. Waiting for any sign of sound from within, he stayed there for minutes. His heart rate picked up as he remembered his last encounter with the living this deep into the wastes.

When all was quiet save for the bugs and rapidly approaching storm, he moved out and over the fence. The house had a back deck with stairs leading up to a rear door. The wood had not weathered well, and was probably in disrepair years before the end of time. He took a tentative step onto the deck and winced as the plank audibly moaned under his weight.

His eyes and ears went up to the window as he waited for any sign of movement. When none came, he took another step. The soles of his boots nearly worn flat pressed heel-to-toe as he moved as light as he could. When he was at the back door, he reached a paw to the knob and turned it softly.

The mechanism clicked and with a gentle push from his shoulder, the door opened. He looked in around the frame for any sort of tripwires that might set off a trap, but saw nothing. Risking a little more, he opened the door halfway. It was a dark kitchen with a door at the front of it leading off to the room with the soft light.

A quick glance told him that whatever of use was here had long since been scavenged. The cabinet doors stood open and shattered dishes and cookware littered the cheap vinyl flooring. With another tentative step, he was inside.

He moved along the floor as his night vision picked out the shattered plates and glasses to avoid. Creeping to the front of the kitchen, he pressed against the wall and peeked through the doorway. There was a single candle in the middle of the room, a worn sleeping bag along the far wall, and the rear quarter of some kind of animal that had been skinned with teeth marks along the raw tissue.

He took a breath and held it as he moved out from the wall and turned to go through the door. His next step echoed with a loud crack as the flooring under him gave way and he fell chest deep into the splintered wood.

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