FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"You've got to be kidding me." All I could do was shake my head as I read Craig Theron's profile on my phone. I'd known he was an idiot ever since I skimmed his file on the chaser website--but reading it more thoroughly, while sitting in my van parked a block away from Theron's hideout, really drove the point home. Judging by his grades in school, employment history, and any number of other documents, the guy had the brainpower of a dried-up turd. There was no way he could've pulled off a jailbreak, yet here he was, holed up in a buddy's apartment above a titty bar.

I closed the file, wrapped my phone around my left wrist and locked it in place, and got out of the van. I stretched my wings, opening them to radiate a little excess heat. Like most draconids, I don't sweat.

I headed for the bar Theron had chosen as his hideout. He probably wasn't smart enough to know I was coming for him if he happened to look out a window and see me stepping out of my van and walking straight toward the place, but I didn't want to take any chances. This was my first fugitive-retrieval gig, so naturally I didn't want to fuck it up.

As usual, most of the pedestrians in my path took one look at me and moved aside quickly, their eyes almost popping out of their skulls. Humans had long since gotten used to bioengineered chimeras--or anthros, as we're sometimes called--but there aren't many my size around anymore, so I tend to make them nervous. Even the other anthros, being much smaller than I, acted awe-struck or afraid. That's good for the occasional ego boost, and intimidating the bad guys is always a plus, but you try walking through a doorway or finding clothes that fit when you're eight feet tall.

I did catch one human eyeing my tits. He wasn't my type, but he was kinda cute. Still, the way my luck ran, he was probably just wondering if they were real or not. I get that a lot because of my huge muscles, but it's genetic, so...eh, what can ya do?

I reached the bar and stopped to scope it out. It was one of the countless trendy bars and nightclubs scattered all over Neon City, this one populated by snotty douchebags who liked to rub their money in other people's faces. Theron had molested two little girls last month, then broke out of prison last night and headed straight here, of all places.

Yep, a real genius, that one. Instead of laying low or just lamming it right out of the city like anyone with two synapses to rub together, Theron had made a mad dash to a bar owned by one of his rich buddies. Throwing money around, humping it out with some hookers, all sorts of things that would only draw attention to him. It'd been only a matter of time before someone noticed him and tipped off the police.

The job of hunting him down had been turned over to the city's Fugitive Retrieval Agency, a government-sanctioned organization of bounty hunters. It had started off as a branch of the city police that was tested here in Neon City back in the 2040s, then was tried in several other major cities before going national. Its job is to lighten the workload on city police and agencies like the FBI by tracking down criminals, allowing everyone else to focus more on investigations and crime prevention. It hasn't helped them actually prevent crimes in the years since, but at least they have more resources for the "investigation" part.

And that's where I came in. I'd gotten my license that morning, and catching Theron the Molester seemed like a good way to start off my career. Not because it'd be an easy job, but to simply remove the scumbag from society as soon as possible. Theron might seem like small change to some people, but anyone who'd rape children should be locked up and left to rot. After a savage beating and toilet-plunger raping, just to show him what it feels like. So I signed up for it as soon as I saw his profile.

Before going into the club, I checked my pockets and utility belt one last time. I'm not in the habit of forgetting any of my gear, but as I said before, this was my first gig and I didn't want to let Theron slip away because of a stupid mistake. My fourteen-millimeter Glock was resting comfortably in my shoulder holster and I had plenty of extra clips on my belt, holding a variety of different ammo types that my gun can use--hollow points, explosive tips, beanbag slugs, armor piercing, even shatter rounds made for use in space stations and ships. I'd probably never get a chance to track down a runner in space, but there was no sense in not being prepared.

I also had a few other weapons and gear hidden on me. Shuriken--larger than normal ones, to fit my big hands--throwing spikes, manriki, a net launcher, a glaive that folded up and fit into my pocket, and a grapple launcher. And, of course, the cuffs I'd be slapping on Theron as soon as I could get my hands on him.

I was ready for this asshole.

I took one more look around before heading for the club's front door. It was just one of many businesses along the street, all of them bars, nightclubs, porn shops and the like, but I pretty much ignored all the others. Theron was staying in one of the rooms on the third floor, so this was the only building I had any interest in.

The line of people in front of the club stretched all the way to the alley between it and a store that sold and rented sexbots. Eww. If I were male, I sure as hell wouldn't rent one of those things; you don't know how well they're cleaned before being rented out again. Same goes for the male models. But I'd learned long ago, from stories my dad told about customers he'd dealt with when he was a pizza delivery boy, that too many people are just plain fucked up.

A glance into one of the windows made my tail twitch. Most of the sexbots on display were various chimera types--bipedal felines, canines, foxes, a couple of draconids, and one minotaur. The male models had huge dicks, of course, and most of the females had massive boobs and unnaturally narrow waists. Which irked the hell out of me. Chimeras tend to be athletic simply because we're designed that way, and in fact, the older ones like my moms have muscles that would scare the shit out of any bodybuilder. I'd inherited their physiques, and I'm also a foot taller than both of them, so I probably scared off a lot of potential lovers just by walking in their general direction.

I resumed my ignoring of the other businesses and strode past the line of people, heading straight for the front door. The bouncer, another anthro--a lion about the size of a tall human--stepped up to block me. I didn't stop until I was only a few inches from him, and just looked down at him and flexed my muscles. He started shaking and moved his left leg as if to take a step back, but then he pulled himself together and held his ground.

I just had to smirk at that. Being this big is damned inconvenient most of the time, but it does come in handy every now and then. Add to that the three long, sharp spikes on each elbow and knee, the spikes on the end of my tail, my claws, and my glowing red eyes, and anyone with half a brain would think twice about taking me on.

Or, at least, I used to think so. Not so much, anymore. In addition to being fucked up, far too many people are deeply, thoroughly, hopelessly stupid. But this guy was at least aware of what could happen to him and probably didn't want to start anything; he had to get in my way simply because it was his job. He wasn't some hotshot who wanted to pick a fight with the big dragon-girl to prove what a man he was. I could respect him for that.

Still, I had a job to do, as well. But since the lion probably didn't know who was hiding upstairs, I felt the need to go easy on him.

"You gotta wait in line like everybody else." His voice shook only slightly.

"I'm not here to party." I showed him my chaser license. "I'm a fugitive-retrieval agent. Just here to make a quick pick-up, then I'll be on my way."

"I don't care. You're not getting in unless you pay--after you wait your turn." He thrust his right hand under his jacket and pulled out a stun baton.

"Oh, shit," someone behind me blurted.

I raised a brow ridge at the lion. "It doesn't have to come to that. I don't want to hurt you. Or bring you in on obstruction of justice charges." Even though I intended to take it easy on this guy, I was already losing patience. The longer I had to dick around out here, the greater the chance that Theron might slip out the back door.

The bouncer dialed the baton to its highest setting. "I got no choice."

I shrugged, stepped around him, and continued on my way, keeping him in the corner of my left eye. Hoping he'd back down but waiting for him to make a move.

He jabbed the baton at me. Big mistake. I flicked my left hand out and grabbed his wrist, and just squeezed. He cried out and the baton slipped from his fingers. Then he reached under his jacket again--but before he could move another inch, I kicked him right in the crotch. He doubled over and I toppled him with a casual shove. Then I wrapped my wings around my shoulders to get them out of the way, opened the door and ducked through.

My eyes adjusted to the dim interior in a few seconds and I swept the crowd with my gaze. The main floor was filled with dancers gyrating to music thumping from speakers on the walls and ceiling, and the rest of the space was taken up by a few dozen tables and platforms on which strippers performed above the crowd. Most were human, though I spotted a few anthros here and there, including three of the strippers. A couple of them were kind of hot.

I shrugged it off and focused on my job. I closed my eyes and concentrated for a moment, trying to detect Theron's presence. For reasons no one had been able to explain yet, many children of human-chimera couples--or trios, in my parents' case--developed psi talents; mine, however, are faint and sporadic at best, and hardly ever kick in when I want them to. The most I'd ever been able to do was pick up a quick burst of emotion and maybe get a sense of what direction it was coming from, but it was never enough to rely on.

Just as well, though. At least that kept me from using it as a crutch. It's much more satisfying to track down the bad guys without cheating.

I gave up after a few seconds and circled the room, taking a quick look at the face of each person I passed by, just in case Theron had decided to do some partying downstairs. Then I made my way through the crowd, scoping out the tables before heading for the hallway leading to the back rooms and the elevator.

"That's far enough!"

I looked over my shoulder and found the lion and three other bouncers behind me. A Rottweiler, a panther and a draconid, all a bit larger than humans but they still had to crane their necks to make eye contact. The lion was hunched over and walking funny.

I held my hands up. "I'm not looking for trouble."

"Tough shit," the Rottie growled, "you've found it anyway. Get the fuck outta here right now, or we'll throw your scaly ass out--in pieces."

They never fucking learn.

I had to take a few deep breaths to reign in my temper. I didn't have time to teach these goons a lesson; stopping long enough to fight them would only give Theron another chance to find out that I was here and run like hell.

Once I'd calmed myself enough, I showed them my ID, then I took my phone off my wrist, unfolded it into a square sheet, and held it up so they could see it.

"I'm looking for this guy." I loaded Theron's mugshot. "I know he's upstairs. If any of you know which room he's in, it'd speed things up quite a bit."

"Don't know," the draconid said with an indifferent shrug. "Don't care."

I glared at him and said, "He's a child molester."

All four bouncers hesitated, exchanging glances and dropping their smug expressions in a heartbeat.

I kept going now that I had their attention. "The girls were only eleven years old." I moved closer and loaded another file for them. "Here's his record. He thought he could get away with it, but his DNA matched samples taken from his victims." I met each of their gazes and raised a brow ridge at them. "So, are you gonna cover a child rapist's ass?"

The draconid sagged a little and his wings drooped. "No. Jesus. I--we didn't know."

I shrugged, folded the phone into a strip, and put it back on my wrist. "Now, do any of you know what room he's in? Or should I just start kicking down doors until I find him?"

#

"The owner is the only one who can decide who gets to stay upstairs," the panther said as we stepped out of the elevator and onto the second floor. "He'll know where this guy is."

"Yeah, he's a buddy of Theron's. I figured I might need to talk to him." I let her take the lead. Couldn't help smiling as she escorted me to the owner's office; she was kinda cute, and had a nice ass under her tight denim shorts.

She stopped outside one of the doors and knocked softly. "Boss? I've got someone here who needs to talk to you about one of your guests."

"What?" a muffled voice snapped a moment later. "Why didn't you call me and ask if I wanted someone brought up here?"

Charming. Maybe he was in the middle of something important. Like tooting rails off a hooker's thigh.

The panther winced. "It's kind of urgent, Boss. She's a chaser."

We waited almost ten seconds, but there was no reply. I flicked a suspicious glance at her.

"Sir?" She raised her voice a bit. "She's here about a guy named Theron. Seems he's in serious trouble."

More silence. I let it stretch out for a few more seconds, then I leaned over and put my ear against the door. I heard frantic whispers muffled by the door. Couldn't make out what the guy was saying, but I did catch one phrase that was all I needed to hear: "You gotta get outta here right now_!"_

I opened the door and found a skeevy-looking guy with greasy black hair hanging over his face sitting at a desk in the corner, hissing into a phone.

He yelped and dropped the phone when he saw me. His face turned pale and he screeched, "Oh, shit!"

"Wait a minute!" The panther grabbed my arm.

I gave her a casual push that sent her stumbling into the hallway. I leaned over the guy at the desk and snarled in his face. He flinched and tried to sink farther down into his chair.

"You warned him!"

"I--I dunno what--"

"Bullshit! I already know you're one of Theron's friends. Which room is he in?"

"I d-don't know." He took a deep breath and tried desperately to regain control of the situation. "Hey, get outta here or I'll have you arrested!"

"Will you?" I sneered at him and even more color drained from his face. "You've been harboring a convicted sex offender--you even try to fuck with me and you might end up sharing Theron's cell. Now, are you gonna come clean?"

He moaned and slouched even farther. "Okay, okay! He's on the third floor, at the end of the hall on the left."

Yeah, if he hadn't bolted like a jackrabbit by this point. I ran back to the elevator and the bouncer followed me, squeezing between the doors just before they closed.

"Oh, man, I am so fired."

"I wouldn't worry about that. Once I turn Theron in and file my report, your boss is gonna have his own problems to deal with." I met her gaze and added, "If the cops don't go after him themselves, they'll let the chasers handle it, and I'll come back for him."

"That'll still give him plenty of time to fire my ass for bringing you up here. I've seen him fire people for less."

The doors parted and I strode down the hall toward Theron's room. "You're probably better off not working for a guy who tried to cover for a child molester."

"Yeah, but it's not that easy to just go out and find another job."

"I know." Okay, I felt bad about that. She was just trying to get by, and I might've screwed things up irreversibly for her. But I'd have to deal with that after taking care of Theron.

I stopped in front of the door and reached for the knob--and the door swung open before my hand got near it.

Craig Theron stood in the doorway, holding a duffel bag packed so hastily that it was unzipped and had all sorts of crap sticking out of it.

He took a step forward before he realized that his path was blocked. He craned his neck up to look at me and his face turned white.

"Oh, shit!" He stumbled back, dropping the bag, turned and ran to the window on the far side of the room. He slid it open and tried to dive through.

I crossed the room in two steps and grabbed his belt, hauled him away from the window and threw him to the floor. He rolled into the wall and grunted, shook his head and pushed himself upright. I drew my gun and pointed it at his empty head.

"On your knees. Hands on your head."

He glanced around as if looking for an escape route. I shook my head and took my cuffs out.

"I can put these on you whether you're conscious or not. You might as well start cooperating and avoid a lot of discomfort." My gun was loaded with beanbag slugs that would merely knock the wind out of him, but part of me wished that I'd loaded explosive rounds instead.

Theron glared at me--then he rolled over and got his feet under him. He scrambled for the hallway door, but I tackled him before he could get more than three steps. I wrenched his arms behind his back and snapped the cuffs onto him, stood and picked him up.

He stomped on my right foot.

"Ow!" I shoved him into the wall and punched him in the side. He slumped over, unable to breathe, and I dragged him out the door. "Try that again and you'll end up wearing your asshole around your neck."

"Great," the panther muttered. "Now get him out of here so I can lose my job in peace."

"If it comes to that, give me a call." I took one of my business cards out and handed it to her. "I could help you get started if you're interested in being a chaser."

"Eh, I dunno. I'll think about it." The bouncer cocked her head. "It's probably no worse than working in this place."

"Well, it's really satisfying to have a direct hand in getting scumbags like this guy off the street. You can set your own hours and the pay's not bad, either." I shrugged. "And if you'd rather get some other job, I have a few friends who might be able to hook you up with something."

"Ah. Well, thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

I nodded, turned and headed for the elevator. "Okay, Craigy, you're goin' for a ride."

#

"Stop struggling or I'll beat the shit outta you." I yanked Theron forward and dragged him up the stairs in front of the police station.

"Fuck you!" He tried to lunge away from me again, but I pulled him back, lifted him with one hand and shook him around like a doll.

"Is that the best you can come up with, you little bitch?" Christ. How did this idiot ever manage to get dressed by himself, much less break out of prison?

"Let me go, you goddamn freak!" He kicked at me and I blocked it with my free hand.

Freak, eh? Pot, meet kettle. I shook him again, and he screamed.

"I jus' bi' mah tongue!"

"Bummer. Now, shut up while you still have a tongue." I dragged him to the front doors and chuckled when I saw the expressions on the cops around me as they stopped to watch the spectacle. Some of them looked nervous about having an eight-foot-tall chimera in their midst, while others looked annoyed that someone was doing their job for them. Most of them appeared content to stand and watch Theron's antics and my reactions.

"Him, again," one of the cops behind me muttered. "I hope the bastard stays behind bars this time."

That made me grin. "Ah, they remember you. How sweet."

Theron groaned and spat blood on the pavement. I folded my wings around my shoulders as the doors parted. I hauled him through, going from hot afternoon sunlight to an almost dungeonesque chamber lit by flickering and buzzing fluorescent lights on the high ceiling. I headed for the front desk at the far end of the lobby.

Panicking now, Theron turned and lifted a knee into my gut. My skin is a lot tougher than a human's flesh, and my vest was designed to stop bullets, so the impact didn't do much except piss me off. I changed course slightly, heading for one of the large pillars that held the ceiling up. I grabbed the back of Theron's collar and shoved him face-first into the pillar. He staggered back after hitting it, howling as blood poured from his nose.

"Oops, how clumsy of me." I dragged him forward again. "You'll have to excuse me. My hand-eye coordination goes right down the toilet when I'm faced with such massive stupidity."

Several of the cops laughed.

"Eat shit, you bitch!" Theron shrieked. "Lemme go or I'll kick your ass!"

I angled toward another nearby pillar and Theron whimpered. The cops stopped to watch with huge grins. Theron cringed as I dragged him past the pillar, then he relaxed when I didn't slam him face-first into it.

Without warning, I whipped him sideways into the pillar. The back of his head struck it with a dull thud. He sank to his knees and cried like a baby.

"You finished kicking my ass? Let's get you into a nice, comfy cell before you really hurt me." I dragged him up to the counter, plopped him face-down and rested my hand on his head. My talons wrapped around the back of his skull and pinned him down. I held up my chaser license for the cop behind the desk to see, and smiled. "Beornia Hammer, fugitive-retrieval agent. I believe you've already met Craigy the Bitch?"

"Oh, yeah, I remember him. We're glad to have him back." The cop sneered at Theron and turned to his computer. "I'll process this right away. The money will be transferred into your account shortly."

"Thank you." I smiled and patted the back of Theron's head, being less than gentle about it. "There. See how smoothly things go when people cooperate?"

Theron mumbled something that sounded like, "Huck oo."

Oh, now you asked for it. I leaned on him, grinding his face into the counter.

"Ow! Ow!"

"Shut it," the cop snapped at him, then added under his breath, "Total waste of reproductive fluids."

I kept Theron pinned to the counter and took a look around while I waited. Most of the other officers had resumed their normal activities, but a few continued to watch me and Theron. From their expressions, I figured they were curious to see what would happen next, though I couldn't help noticing hints of suspicion and fear in the way a few of them looked at me.

I ignored it and looked around the room again. Behind the counter, separated from the lobby by a wall with bullet-resistant windows and metal detectors built into the doorways, plainclothes cops were taking statements in the squad room. Other people were sitting on benches lining the walls, waiting to be let in.

To pass the time, I picked out bits of conversations from the hum of voices in the background. A guy bitching about the money he'd lost on a bet. A pair of cops discussing an anthro they'd arrested for assaulting someone at a convention after the guy asked him to "yiff." Someone across the room apparently arguing with the voices in her head. A tiger chimera leaning against one of the pillars, grumbling to himself and alternating between glancing at his watch and reading a multimedia sheet.

An ad playing on the translucent sheet caught my eye--a company called BodMod offering the latest in mutagenic treatments to people who were unsatisfied with their bodies or simply wanted to alter themselves just for shits and giggles. Clients--the ones who could afford it, at least--could modify their skin, eye and hair color, or even change themselves into nonhuman creatures.

I wondered idly how many of those clients had been at that convention the two cops had mentioned. Then I dismissed the idea; hardly anyone could afford the procedure. And I couldn't help wondering what the hell was wrong with people who had that much money and wasted it on something so frivolous.

On the other hand, it might be cool to experience something like that temporarily. I'd want my own body back after a few hours, but the process is irreversible, so forget it. I wouldn't mind being normal sized, but as often as I bitch about it, overall I like my body just the way it is. And even if I didn't, I wouldn't mess around with it as much as some people do with theirs.

Eh. People are just bizarre. But whatever floats your boat, I guess.

The guy behind the counter cleared his throat. I turned and found him staring expectantly at me. Aw, crap, he'd said something and I was too distracted by shiny objects to hear it.

"Oh--uh, sorry, I was...um, what'd you say a moment ago?"

"What was your name again?" He tapped an icon on his screen and moved his hands back to the keyboard. "Bernie something-or-other?"

"Beornia Hammer." I tried not to wince as I spelled it for him. I've never liked that name, even though it means "battle-maid"--which is actually kinda cool; I guess I should be happy with that, but the name just sounds funny. Besides, too many people already mistake me for a male until they see my boobs, so the last thing I need is a name that sounds even remotely like Bernie. "I prefer to be called Boiler."

"Boiler?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Nickname."

"Ah." He typed my name and some other info into the computer. "How'd you get a nickname like that?"

"My temper." Remembering how it got started made me grin. "Back in high school, one of the bullies made the mistake of picking on my boyfriend. The son of a bitch was on the opposing team during a dodgeball game, so the first chance I got, I almost decapitated him with the ball. Got suspended for it, but it was worth it."

"Ah. Well, okay, then." The cop chuckled, but looked a bit nervous. He cleared his throat and got back to business. "Almost done, here. Just need your ID to complete the transaction."

"Sure." I took my license out of my wallet and handed it over.

He inserted it into one of the slots under his monitor, tapped a few icons on the screen and returned the card. "You're all set."

"Thanks."

"No problemo." He glanced at his screen again and cocked an eyebrow. "Looks like this is the first time we've ever dealt with you, Ms. Hammer. You new at the job?"

"Yeah, Theron's my first." I don't often pat myself on the back, but this time I allowed myself a moment of pride. "And I'm just gettin' warmed up."