FSE

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A quiet snick.

The rustle of fabric.

The clink of metal.

In utter silence, two furs packed bags full of survival equipment; knives, matches, and other sorts of things that they would need on their long and dangerous trip.

The female fur picked up a black pistol and slipped it into her belt holster, butt out so she could draw it with a cross body pull. She didn't bother fastening the clip, instead nestling extra clips of nine millimeter ammunition into little pouches on her other hip. She picked up a long black suppressor and considered it, glancing down at the Beretta on her hip before tucking it into her jacket pocket.

The last thing she picked up was a battered black Zippo lighter with an Air Force logo on the front. A tear trickled down her face as she clenched her paw tight around the lighter. As was her ritual, she flipped it open and struck the flint wheel. The wick burst into flames and she quickly flicked her wrist to close it.

She tucked the lighter into her front pants pocket, next to a package of cigarettes that had been almost impossible to get. A sympathetic gas station clerk had sold her a few packs, the rest of which had been stuffed into her backpack.

"I'm ready," she said in a halting voice. A paw landed on her shoulder and she tensed instinctively.

"Whoa, it's just me," came the reassuring voice of her male companion. His fur was a deep midnight black and his mocha eyes bored right through her. His name was Justin, and though she'd only known the male wolf for a few days, she already was convinced she would need him to survive.

Justin shouldered his pack, adjusting the straps to accommodate his bulky frame and its contents. He buckled the strap across his chest and carefully picked up the SOCOM M-14 rifle that he carried. She didn't know why he had such a weapon, but in circumstances like this, she really didn't care.

She relaxed marginally, still on edge from what they were about to do. She slipped into her jacket, making doubly sure that her weapon was concealed. It wouldn't do for anyone to see it.

The keys to the truck outside felt icy cold when she picked them up. For the first time, she took a good look at them. A metal and black plastic key and a matching fob on the key ring, accompanied by a single keychain of a paw print. The truck had been her sons, before he was brutally murdered by the humans.

They had broken into their home only a few miles away and shot him and her son a half dozen times. She'd managed to hide in the master bedroom closet, but there had been no time for her to get her mate or her son before. They'd both been downstairs when the attackers made their assault and their last cries had been the warning she needed.

When they had left, she had run downstairs to her family. Her mate was already gone, but she was able to speak with her son before he too died. He pressed the keys into her paw and told her to give them hell.

The police didn't give half a shit about the beings they perceived as freaks, so she hadn't bothered calling them. Instead, she bolted through the house, grabbing anything she thought she would need in the coming days.

That had been a week ago, and the pain of it was as fresh as ever.

Fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks as she thought of her beautiful son.

Justin noticed and wrapped an arm around her. She hadn't told him the story yet, but he could definitely tell that it was related to the hunk of plastic and metal clenched in her paw.

It took her a few moments to compose herself. She wiped her eyes with her jacket sleeve, leaving wet marks in the cloth. Two deep breaths later, she shouldered her own pack and gave her companion a look. A look of determination and pure hatred for those who had taken everything from her.

She kicked open the front door of the house they had broken into and stormed out. Justin followed right on her heels, not bothering to shut the door behind himself.

The little silver Ford Ranger stood at the curb, slick with early morning dew. The horn beeped as she unlocked it from the fob in her paw and she wrenched the drivers door open. Her pack went into the small backseat and she gathered up her long fluffy tail before climbing into the cloth seat.

The small pickup was a standard, which posed a slight problem, since she had never learned how to drive one until after her family's murders. But she would never let Justin drive it unless there was an absolute need to.

He opened the passenger door and threw his backpack into the back as well before joining her in the cab.

"You sure you wanna drive? You're not that great with manuals."

She glared at him until he averted his gaze to scan around them for potential threats.

Seeing nothing, he nodded to her.

She held down the clutch and turned the key, her paw going down to the gearshift when the four cylinder engine caught.

She shifted into first, the truck rumbling from the sudden load on it. The motor almost stalled, but fortunately, it didn't.

The two furs pulled away, keeping well within the boundaries of the law. They passed burned out house after burned out house. Furs had lived there.

A few minutes into the drive, the little truck passed up a cop car that was parked on the side of the road. With no hesitation, the police officer followed the Ranger, flashing the lights at them and blipping the siren once he was right on their bumper.

"Pull over that way," Justin said, pointing to a parking lot in front of an abandoned grocery store.

She did just that, her paws shaking on the steering wheel. Of all the luck to have, they'd gotten hit with the bad kind.

The truck pulled to a halt in a parking space close to the deserted building. She yanked up the hand brake and pulled the key out, tossing it on the dash and putting her gloved paws out the window. The officer stepped from his car, his hat perched on top of his human head.

She groaned audibly. The humans and the furs hadn't ever really gotten along, but the outbreak of fur massacres in the area had infected the blood of every human in Chicago. They were out for revenge. It wasn't just the Windy City either. All over the planet, the furs were rebelling against the human governments, killing many.

He stepped to the window.

"License and registration please." His voice was gruff and angry. Likely, one of his friends in the force had been a victim of a murder by the furs, but that really wasn't important. The important bit was that his big beefy hand was resting squarely on the holstered gun at his hip.

She trembled, handing over the documents he'd asked for.

"Here you are officer," she said softly. "What seems to be the problem?"

He ignored her, perusing the papers in his hands.

Beside her, Justin slowly reached for the M-14 in the floorboards. She made a waving gesture at him to stop.

"Step out of the vehicle please," ordered the police officer. He stepped back.

She pushed open the door and undid her seatbelt, climbing out and standing in the cold beside the truck. Justin made a move to get out as well, but the officer barked at him to stay there.

He stepped closer, looking her up and down. His eyes lingered on her breasts until she coughed. He looked her in the eyes, and in them, she could see pure hatred and, oddly enough, something that she thought was an attraction to her.

"You furry freaks have the same parts as us humans, correct?" he said gruffly.

"Except for our tails and muzzles, just about," she replied, attempting to appease him and get out of this with her wits intact.

"Good." With that one word, he reached for her throat. His meaty hand closed around it before her brain had time to react. She opened her muzzle to scream, but his hand clenched, cutting off her air.

Her paws scrambled at her captor's hand, struggling to loosen the death grip he had on her neck.

Justin saw what was happening and had almost managed to pull out his rifle when the cop leveled a Glock 19 at him.

"One move and I kill you both," the deranged officer snarled. "Throw the gun out here, butt first."

Justin growled at him without moving.

The cop fired a round through the passenger window, showering Justin's lap with broken glass.

Reluctantly, the male fur maneuvered the rifle around like he had been instructed and shoved it out through the open drivers door. It fell to the ground with a clack.

She shivered. There was no doubt in her fuzzy mind that he was going to rape her, possibly even kill them both.

The cop set his gun on the hood of the Ford, reaching down her body to her jeans. She wiggled, trying to free herself, but the human smacked her across the face hard enough to see stars. She went limp, falling back against the truck.

Her body fell to the ground, the officer keeping a tight hold on her neck. She struggled for even the tiniest breath of air, anything to banish the fuzziness from her mind.

The cop kept her pinned down with that hand, using the other to rip open her shirt. He didn't see the gun holstered at her hip, intent as he was on his prey.

Suddenly, he loosened his grip on her neck just enough to let her get a breath. She chose that moment to make her move.

Her right paw dove for the Beretta, drawing it from the holster and flicking off the ambidextrous safety. He kept his eyes right on her face even as she leveled the gun at his chest and pulled the trigger again and again.

Blood spattered all over her front as the nine millimeter Parabellum rounds tore through the demented human. He collapsed on top of her, all strength suddenly gone, pouring out of him through four holes in his chest. She recoiled as best she could, ripping his hand from her throat and shoving him aside. She lay there, gasping for breath as Justin got out of the pickup and raced around to get his rifle. He leveled the weapon at the dying cop.

"Janice, you alright?" he said, not taking his eyes off the human.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm fine."

An hour later, they were out of the city and on the highway. They hadn't bothered to stop and clean up, other than wiping the blood off of her face.

Janice's eyes constantly darted to the rear view mirror and back to the road. Murdering a cop, even in self defense, was a sure fire way to get herself either killed or arrested.

They drove in silence, not talking or listening to the radio. The only noises were that of the wind rushing past the car and the tires.

"We have to get some new plates," said Justin into the silence.

"Why?"

"Because our plates are gonna be on that cop cars dash cam."

She nodded. It was a good point. With new plates, they could avoid the danger of being stopped by cops looking for that truck.

"Pull off here. There's a cluster of businesses and someone's gotta have a copy of this thing."

Janice nodded again. She flicked on the blinker and looked behind them to check her blind spot before changing into the exit lane.

The light was red when they got to it, giving them the time to scan the cars they could see for an identical version of their truck.

It didn't take them long. Parked behind an office building was a silver Ford Ranger with Texas plates. It was alone, parked under an overhanging metal roof. Janice pulled into the empty space next to it and got out, leaving the engine running.

Justin pulled out an electric wrench and got out as well, going to work on removing the single license plate from the rear bumper. It took him only seconds.

He handed the plate to Janice and quickly went to work on taking off the plate they were going to steal.

A minute and a half later, the plates were in place and Janice backed out of the parking space and got got back on the highway.

"What we just did was illegal," said Janice.

"So was killing that cop," remarked Justin.

"He was trying to rape me. Just because he's a cop doesn't mean I'm not going to defend myself."

"Yeah, but look at it from a jury's point of view. You murdered a human. Us furs have no rights in this fucking country, so there's not a chance in hell that one of us would wind up on a jury. They'll be so driven for revenge that they'd look past what the law says about it and vote to convict. Admit it, you know that's what would happen." Justin looked over at her.

She knew he was right. Humans love getting revenge enough to ignore the law and common sense.

"That's not right," she said after a moment.

"No one ever said life is fair or right. I mean, look at what happened to me! My fiancée, who I was going to get married to in a week, was arrested for being in a club. She had her ID and everything, but they arrested her anyway."

"That's better than what happened to my family. At least yours is still alive," Janice muttered darkly.

He looked at her.

"What happened to yours?"

"I-" she paused, regaining control of her suddenly very fragile emotions. "I was in the shower at home. My son and my mate were downstairs, probably playing a video game or watching TV. I don't know exactly what happened, but I was getting out when I heard a crash from downstairs. That was a usual thing in our house so I didn't really question it. Then I heard my son, Nick, scream. I ran to the door and looked down the stairs, and I saw a pair of humans in all black. One of them was waving a gun around. Mine was downstairs in this little chest we had, so I couldn't get to it to defend them. I hate myself for this, I really do, but I ran and hid in the master bedroom closet.

"I heard gunshots, a lot of them, at least twelve. Jason and Nick screamed, and I knew that they had been shot. The shots were so loud... They had at least a .45... I waited a minute or two after the shots, so the guys could leave. Then I ran downstairs, still in a towel, mind you.

"They were on the floor in the living room. Both had been shot over and over. There was blood everywhere... I can't remember if I screamed or not, but I probably did. I ran to my mate, but he was already gone. My son was still alive at that point and he was looking up at me while I did my best to staunch the blood flow. He reached into his pockets and pressed his keys into my paw. The keys to this, actually. Then he said, 'Give them hell.' I-I gave him a kiss... He died a minute later. After that, I knew I couldn't stay there, so I ran upstairs and got dressed, then packed a few bags of stuff and threw them into this truck. I went back inside to say my last goodbyes and I took my mates lighter." She fished the Zippo out of her pocket to show Justin. "This was his grandfathers in World War Two. He took such good care of it. I..." Janice broke down crying before she could continue. This was the first time she had recounted that horrible day and her emotions took over.

It was a miracle that they didn't drive off the highway. Justin wrapped his arms around her in a hug while she held the truck as steady as she could. She sobbed, tears pouring down her face.

Justin couldn't think of any way to console her, much to his displeasure. Right now, Janice Carter was the only family he had.

"When was this?" he asked softly after a few minutes.

"A-a week a-ago..." she wailed.

"Sshh..." Justin said softly, rubbing her neck and shoulders tenderly.

It took her ten minutes to stop crying.

"God, I miss them so much. We'd heard about the riots and murders, but we never thought that we'd get caught up in it..."

Justin nodded. There was nothing he could say to that.

"Tell me about them," he asked. He knew that talking about things that were painful would help.

Janice took a deep shuddering breath.

"W-well, they were incredible. My mate, Jason, he was the sweetest guy in the world. He was always bringing me flowers, or little surprises. He'd bring me lunch every day, or take me out. He was about your height, maybe a little skinnier, but he was in the Air Force like his dad and grandfather had been and he could whoop anyone's ass. He was always smiling and joking. The only time he wasn't was when he was at work. He hated that job, but he got to come home to me.

"Nick was a little brat sometimes but I loved him more than my own life. He was a huge guitar player and really good at one of those racing video games for the Xbox. I can't remember the name. He loved cars and took care of them, hence why this thing looks brand new even though it's a decade old. I remember once, he wrote me a song for mothers day."

Justin smiled. They certainly sounded like a wonderful family. He never had any kids, and if his fiancée never got out of jail, he wouldn't.

"I'd have liked to meet them," he said softly, running Janice's paw. She looked down at his paw, then up into his eyes.

She smiled slightly. "They'd have loved you."

"Nah, I'm an ass sometimes," he joked.

"Doesn't seem like it to me."

"What's your favorite memory of them?"

She thought for a few long moments before responding. Her paw reached up and idly traced the leather collar around her neck.

"I'd have to say it was our wedding day," she said finally. "What a beautiful day that was."

Justin just watched her, silent.

"August twenty-third, nineteen ninety-seven. We got married after two years of knowing each other. We'd met at my work. I worked as a waitress at Hooters."

Justin laughed.

"I'd believe that. That may have been a while back, but I still think you look amazing."

Janice blushed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Anyway, we met there. He'd come in with a bunch of his buddies and I was their server. After they'd had a few drinks and watched the NASCAR race, he came up to me while I was waiting for an order for another table and we talked. He asked me out, and keep in mind that he was nicely buzzed at the time. At first, I was gonna say no, but he seemed really nice and I thought I'd give it a shot.

"To make a long story a bit shorter, we went out and it seemed to click. After sixteen months of us dating, he finally proposed. That was beautiful by itself, but nothing could compare to the wedding. When I saw him up there in that sexy tux, I knew that that shepherd was going to be the best thing that ever happened to me. We handwrote our vows."

"Do you still remember them?"

"Like it was yesterday. He said, 'Janice, you are my light, and my compass. I'll admit, I was a bit drunk when I asked you out, but I'm sincerely glad I did. Before I met you, I was a loner, a loser. But then you came into my life and showed me the way. When I'm with you, I think only of you. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to me and I wouldn't have it any other way.' Then he picked up the ring and said, 'With this ring, I make a promise to you. I promise to be there for you always, and to keep watch over you. I promise to never let my thoughts stray to any other, to hold you close through the best times and even closer in the worst. I promise, as everyone in here is my witness, that I will strive to be the best mate and husband possible to you, no matter what happens. You are the jewel of my life and I love you from the bottom of my heart.'"

Justin looked like he had watery eyes at the end of that little speech.

"Then I said, 'Jason, my life wasn't complete without you. I had been waiting for years to find that one special dog for me and in you, I have found him. You have always been there for me. I hope our life together brings us endless joy and happiness. With you by my side, nothing can go wrong. This is, and always shall be, the greatest day of our relationship.' At that point, I picked up his ring and went on. 'With this band, I make a solemn pledge, a pledge to stay by your side through thick and thin. We will always be together, and there will be not a single second that I regret it. I swear that my eyes will be for you and you alone. I love you.' And then I slipped the ring on his finger."

Justin didn't say anything for a moment. Janice heard a sniffle from him before he spoke.

"God damn... That's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

"It's all I have left now..."

"No it isn't."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean that you still have all those memories of you and him and your son. In your heart." He reached over and placed his paw on her shoulder. "Never forget that. And never forget them."

She nodded, unable to think of anything to say.

He looked back at the road ahead.

"Can you get my smokes out of my bag?" she asked a few minutes later.

"Sure. Where are they?"

"Front pocket."

The big wolf turned in his seat and reached behind the drivers seat for the large pack. He unzipped the front pocket and withdrew the pack of cigarettes and the lighter and zipped it back up.

"Here ya go."

She took the objects from him and flicked the pack open, closing her teeth around one of the last four remaining tobacco sticks in the pack. The flint sparked, catching the wick on fire as she lit the smoke and took a deep breath. She set the two items in the cup holder and buzzed down her window, blowing the toxic smoke out.

They camped out that night at a shitty motel on the outskirts of Indianapolis. Janice, being the one with money, went to grab the room key. She hid her tail in her shirt and made the transaction quickly with a minimum of words.

She stuck the key in the door and turned it. The lock rattled as the door opened, revealing a ratty pair of twin beds with a single nightstand in between them. There was a tarnished brass lamp on the little table, and a chest of drawers on the opposite wall. The bathroom was at the far end of the suite, though it was a stretch to call their accommodations that.

But at that particular moment, Janice gave exactly no fucks about the condition or quality of their room. She was merely happy that it was a place to stay the night.

The two of them simultaneously dropped their packs on the floor, landing with solid thumps.

Justin went over and sat on one of the beds, sending a cloud of dust into the already stagnant air. He sneezed, his muzzle jerking once.

"This place is a piece of shit," he said, looking once around the dingy room.

"Hey, but it's our piece of shit for the night," laughed Janice. It was the only time since last week that she'd even smiled, let alone smiled.

Justin opened his muzzle to say something, but was interrupted by a loud grumble coming from his stomach.

"Fuck, I haven't eaten all day."

Janice nodded. She hadn't either, having been occupied by a ton of other things.

"We passed a McDonald's and a Subway on our way here," she said, fingering the keys in her pocket.

"No way in hell you're going out tonight." Justin's tone was firm.

"Then how do you expect us to get food? Trust me, a good meal will make us feel a bit better. Rule number one of being in the military."

"Janice, in case you've forgotten, the Chicago police are out for blood. Not to mention, humans all hate us because we're different. It's not worth the risk."

"Come with me then. We'll take our stuff just in case we have to bolt. We'll be fine."

The look on her face discouraged any argument from the wolf. He knew she'd go anyway.

He grumbled about it for a moment, then agreed.

"Fine. But I'm going with you, and we're going in and right back out."

In response, Janice shouldered her pack and pulled the truck keys from her pocket.

With a sigh, Justin picked his up as well, following her out of the motel room and locking it securely with the key.

Twenty minutes later, the two furs were chowing down on some sandwiches from Subway. Janice had gotten the Italian B.M.T. and Justin had a BLT. They'd gotten the combos, chips and drinks.

Janice groaned around a mouthful of sliced deli meats. "Damn, this is just what I needed."

Justin nodded. He agreed, but that didn't mean he was happy about the risk.

"Janice."

She looked over at him.

"We need to talk."

"Okay," she said, putting what remained of her sub down. "What's up?"

"Look, I hope you know that what we just did was insanely dangerous."

"Justin..."

"Don't interrupt. That was dangerous, dangerous and foolish. Do you know what would have happened if we had gotten caught, or stopped? Our faces are all over the news by now! 'The two freaks who killed a cop.' We would have been arrested, Janice, and there's no way we would have been able to get out of it, especially since we ran from the scene of the crime. If we had stayed, there might have been some hope for us. But we ran."

"Justin, does it really matter? I don't even believe this so-called "safe place" even exists. I think it's just a legend for the naive and foolish."

He glowered at her. "I know this place is real. I've seen pictures one of my friends texted me. It's a real place, Janice, and at the moment it's out only hope."

"There is one other option." Janice looked down as she said this.

"What's that?" Justin demanded, not unkindly.

"We go out with a fight."

"Are you saying that we just stay here, wait for the cops to find us, and when they do, we take out as many of them as we can?"

Janice nodded.

"I think you're bat shit crazy."

"I know. I have nothing else to live for... With them gone..." She didn't finish that thought.

For Justin, instinct kicked in. He leaned forward and planted his muzzle against hers in a long passionate kiss.

She made to push him away, but didn't. It had been such a painful week since her last intimate contact. Her tongue had a mind of its own as it pushed its way out of her muzzle and into Justin's, battling with his for supremacy.

Her paws traced up his chest, feeling his muscular body.

A low needful moan escaped her. She could feel her tail start to wag wildly, sweeping across the comforter on her bed with increasing vigor.

BANG BANG BANG

The two of them jumped at the sudden loud banging on their door. In less than a second, Janice had her pistol leveled at the door as Justin unsheathed a wicked looking antique German SS dagger.

Keeping the gun up with the safety off, Janice warily approached the door. She glanced through the peephole and was somewhat startled to see a black-furred Labrador.

She indicated to Justin what she had seen and gripped the door handle tightly. The hinges shrieked as she yanked the door open with one hand, grabbing hold of the Labs shirt collar with the other and pulling him quickly into the room.

He stumbled and fell face first into the bed as she pushed the door shut and locked all three locks.

The Lab barely had time to stand up before he had a pistol barrel and a knife blade inches from his throat.

"Whoa whoa! Don't shoot!" he pleaded, throwing up his paws in surrender.

"We need reassurance," Janice said coldly. "Turn around and put your paws on the wall."

There was a look of pure terror on his lovable face as he complied.

With swift, practiced movements, Justin frisked the canine, recovering his wallet, a switchblade, and a Glock in the waistband of his jeans.

Janice holstered her weapon and examined the other's handgun, dropping the clip onto the bed and clearing the chamber before locking the slide back. The gun was fully loaded, fifteen nine millimeter bullets in the clip and one in the chamber.

Justin released him, but kept the old dagger in his paw as he sat down. He opened the wallet and pulled out a drivers license.

"Jonathan Gies, huh? That's an odd name," he remarked.

Even in such a situation, the Lab couldn't help but get defensive. His upper lip twitched.