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Could he do it? Could he shoot the cops to keep himself and John out of jail for a little longer? If he shot the cops, should he shoot to kill? If he didn't the cops certainly would shoot back with intent to kill as soon as Marcus opened fire. If he did shoot to kill, and succeed, then the police would be even more determined to capture them. If he did nothing, they'd be in jail within the next hour. At least they wouldn't be dead in jail. No, surviving jail was a long shot. The chance of them surviving jail when half of the inmates where Bores was slim to none. They'd get word to their incarcerated members, and Marcus and John would be dead before the day was over.

It was clear that they'd have to fight their way out of the hospital room. Marcus, as the more experienced, knew that he would have to lead the fight. He turned the handle, leaning his shoulder against the door. The cop stated kicking at the door, but Marcus held it firm. He looked back at John who had the same cold understanding in his eyes that Marcus had come to. At least he knew what was coming.

There were frantic and hurried footsteps stomping into the room outside of the bathroom all of a sudden, and the cop stopped his kicking.

"What the-" Marcus heard the cop saying. His voice was faint through the thick wooden door. "Drop your weapons!" he screamed at whoever had just entered. Gunshots rang out and a nurse started screaming.

We have to go, now. Marcus realized. Relying on John following him closely, Marcus burst through the door and instantly dashed to his left. He was behind two cops, both of them canine. In the doorway was an alligator and a jaguar. The cat was sidestepping and ducking behind a sickbed. The cop's bullets tore through it, and the feline. Marcus dove to the ground and slid across the slick floor. He skidded under his own sickbed. He heard one of the cops fall, and the other groan in pain, but the shots kept firing. The bathroom door slammed shut and there was a lull in the gunfire.

Marcus hated what he was about to do. He turned himself and pressed his feat against the wall between the two sickbeds. He pushed off the wall and slid out from between the beds. He rolled to his feat, and silently hurried over towards the door that led out into the hall. John was still between the beds, peaking up over one at Marcus. Marcus pointed to the bathroom door, and then pressed two fists together. John nodded, and crept over to the cop's door. He grabbed onto the handle and leaned back, watching Marcus over his shoulder.

Just as expected, the door to the hallway slowly started inching open. More and more it opened. Marcus pressed himself harder against the wall to keep from being seen. Stupidly, the gator pushed his entire wrist and pistol through the expanding crack as he started scanning the room. Marcus jammed his pistol through the hole and pulled the trigger. He watched as the top slide of the gun pulled back, and then stuck like that.

"Shit!" Both he and the gator cursed. It seemed that years under the sink had made the mechanisms sticky, and he hadn't oiled it as frequently as he should have. Marcus swung his right leg around and slammed it into the door. The door crushed the gator's wrist between its' heavy wooden edge and the metal doorframe. His gun fell from his hand. Marcus fell to his butt, dropping his own gun and catching the gator's as he fell. He pried the door back open with his left foot, and hit the ground firing. Three rounds hit the gator square in the gut. He fell backwards bleeding badly.

"Marcus." John called distressed. Marcus retrieved his own gun from the floor and stuffed it in his pants. He looked towards John, and saw the husky with both hands on the handle and one foot on the wall. Marcus flicked the safety onto the 9mm he'd just taken from the gator and slipped it into his pants with the jammed .45.

"What's going on out there? Johnson! Johnson!" The cop was shouting from behind the door. Marcus looked at the dead cop. It felt like an icicle was jabbing him in the heart. There lay a man dedicated to his job, to the ideal of justice. Dead because of those punk-ass Bores, firing off rounds because Marcus and John had inadvertently disrespected one of them. It was absolute insanity. The cop was pulling on the door in a 1-2-3 rhythm. Marcus held up his fingers, and in time with the cop's pulling he started counting down. First three, then at two he started running towards the door. At one John released the door. The cop tore it open and caught a flying wolf to his chest.

Marcus tumbled to the ground with the cop, and easily pinned the yellow lab to the ground. He held his hands to the hard floor and stared the cop in the eyes. To the lab's credit he returned the stare, not something everyone can do. To compound things for the cop his left arm was bleeding badly over the bathroom floor.

"I need you to listen to me. Carefully." Marcus explained. The cop said nothing, but kept matching Marcus' stair. "Last night we pissed of one of the Bores at a concert. It involved his girlfriend. He beat the crap out of her, and in her panic she came to our apartment, although she hardly knew us. He followed her and attacked us with two of his friends. In self defense I killed him, and injured one of his friends."

"You should have come to us." The lab said. Looking into his eyes as he was, Marcus could see the realization, surprise, and belief. They officially had a cop on their side.

Marcus shook his head. "After killing one of them we'd be killed in jail." The cop was silent. "So you understand why we've been running, and why we'll keep running. We're leaving the city, maybe even the country. We don't want anyone else to get hurt. Do what you can for us, would you?"

The cop gave him a sideways look. "It won't be much, I'm the rookie."

"I appreciate it. And I appreciate the understanding." Marcus looked over his shoulder to John who was watching both him and the door to the hall. "Your friend. Johnson you said."

"He's dead. I know." The lab turned his head to the side and rested it on the floor, closing his eyes. "I only called out because I had nothing else to reach for."

"Yeah well the Bores are dead too." Marcus paused. "Please forgive me." Marcus said as he rolled the lab over to his stomach. "We can't risk it. I'm gonna cuff you. I'm sure more cops'll be here soon to set you free."

"I do understand, and I do forgive you." The lab said, taking in a sharp breath as Marcus pulled his arms back and pinned them to his lower back. "I hope you can forgive me as well. If the chief commands me to go after you again, I will. Know that cops aren't bad people, but some of us aren't worth trusting. It looks like you know that already." The cuffs snapped into place with the lab's hands stuck behind his back. "My names Troy Bakley."

"You know mine." Marcus stood. "Thank you again." He left the bathroom and handed the 9mm to John. He showed him the safety. He pulled his own gun and started fiddling with it as he headed for the door. "More cops will be here any second. The staff must have called them by now."

"Yeah, he fucking shot me. Three times." Marcus heard from the hall as he stepped through the door. He looked to the ground on his right and saw the Bore who'd taken the three 9mm rounds. The gator's hide had kept the relatively small bullets from being fatal, and was on his cell phone. He had a small revolver in his hand, already pointed up at Marcus. The gator smiled a wicked toothy smile. "Bye bye." He said. Marcus had no where to go, no time to move, and no gun to counter with. A shot rang out and the gator's head snapped back as a 9mm round blasted between his teeth, through the roof of his mouth, and then into his tiny brain.

John slowly lowered the gun to his side. "Piece of shit." He spit. Marcus nearly hugged him.

"Marcus?" Troy called, worried.

"One of them was still up. He's down." Marcus said simply. "Let's go."

"Take the elevator." Troy said. "They'll take he stairs first sense they're more reliable. Go quick though before enough men get here to cover both." Without responding, Marcus and John sprinted down the hall towards the nearest elevator. Marcus' injuries stung like hell, but didn't hinder him too much. They hit the "down" button, and waited for a few years while the apparently ancient stone operated elevation system crawled up towards the third floor. In reality it was only about 7 seconds, but Marcus could have ripped every piece of fur from his body in frustration. The door opened and they rushed inside and mashed the first floor button. Marcus was fiddling with the .45 again, and soon it snapped back into place. He checked to be sure it wouldn't jam again, at least not right away, and he re-cocked it.

"How many are in the clip?" Marcus asked.

"I haven't touched it." John said.

"Good." They waited in the quiet cheesy elevator music. "If memory serves me right, there'll be a window down the hall to our right. Head straight for it. Shoot it until it breaks and we'll head out that way. Hopefully they won't have enough manpower to surround the entire hospital. When the door finally slid open they heard a series of disturbing noises. They could hear sirens, gunfire, and the automatic doors at the main entrance of the hospital sliding open. The doors where around a corner, and no more then ten yards away. "Run!" Marcus shouted.

They turned and sprinted madly down the hall. Marcus pointed his gun back, and started releasing a slow and steady flow of .45 rounds to keep whoever had come through the doors behind cover. John lifted his gun and fired off four rounds in quick succession before the window broke. They dove through it, and kept running without looking back. In front of them was a large and lush lawn that led to a minor street. Across the street was a cluster of residential homes.

After about ten seconds of sprinting across the lawn, Marcus heard "Freeze! Police!" From behind them. He looked back, there were four officers leveling weapons in their direction. A bullet whizzed past the cops from behind, and as one they turned. An explosion of gunfire from within the hospital and from the cops split the air. Marcus turned, unable to watch. He knew the cops would be massacred. There was no cover at the end of the hall, and there was likely at least as many Bores firing down the hall at them as there were cops being shot at.

He focused on sprinting forward as fast as his feet could carry him. Then, from an intersection down the road on Marcus' side squealed a little beat up car. It's doors and hood where all different colors, but as soon as the driver saw them, he veered off the road and headed across the lawn straight for Marcus and John.

"Give me your gun." John handed over his 9mm, and Marcus slowed to a walk. A badger leaned out of the Bore's passenger seat and opened fire. John crouched low to the ground covering his head. Marcus stood firm, walking towards the car, still out of comfortable range. He waited, and waited while the Bore fired off half of his clip. Finally a bullet hit within a few inches of his foot, and he decided it was time. He emptied the two, half full magazines within two seconds. His bullets shattered the front windshield, only a few of them went astray and reeked havoc with the engine. The driver was dead, and the passenger was doubled over.

The car kept it's course for the time being, straight for Marcus and John. Marcus shoved John away, and jumped an instant before the car would have slammed into his knees. He turned himself sideways in the air. His shirt slid across the top of the car, and the old antennae on the back of the car lashed his leg painfully. He landed roughly on his side, and watched as the car swerved and slid across the grass. It slammed straight into the hospital and took out a generous portion of the wall.

"This is crazy as hell." John groaned as he got to his feet. They resumed their sprint, heading for the homes across the street where they could hopefully disappear into someone's backyard. The morning sun lit the homes in what would have been a pleasant spectacle had there not been gunfire going off in the back round. They charged across the street without stopping, and reached the first chin link fence. He hurtled it as one and continued across the lawn. The other side of the chain link fence was pushed up against a large solid wooden fence. Marcus put the useless firearms in his pants, and again as one they each planted a foot on the top of the chain link fence and launched over the much larger wooden one.

There was a strange connection between them as they ran for their lives. It was probably the same connection they say soldiers and anyone who endures life threatening trials with a partner feel. There was a bond between them where they traded and synergized their energy, giving them strength of body and mind.

They fell about ten feet. Marcus rolled as he hit the dirt, and John crouched low enough to plant his hands and use them to help push him forward. A small, but feral dog came charging towards them from Marcus' side, barking and snarling. The wolf stared the dog straight in the eyes, and growled deeply. The dog backed away quickly. Their canine endurance was coming in handy, as neither of them felt the strain of their sprints and leaps too badly. They had to be sure they lost the Bores though, and so they kept running. Marcus slid up to the wooden fence before them, knowing that they couldn't hurtle it without the help of the chain-link fence.

He pushed his back up against it, and held his hands out for John. The husky was panting a bit, but could go for miles and miles more before he'd have to stop. He stepped up onto Marcus' hands, and between the two of them he easily cleared the fence. Marcus looked to his right and saw a shed. He headed for it. He jumped at the shed and planted his right foot against its' white wooden wall. He grabbed onto the edge of it's roof as well, then pushed off, and managed enough height to turn in the air and grab onto the top of the wooden fence. He quickly pulled himself up and over it. He caught his foot as he crested over it, and stumbled through the air and hit the ground harder than he'd intended.

John rushed over to him. "You alright?"

Marcus nodded. "Which way to Bill's?" They could still hear sporadic gunfire from the direction of the hospital.

"This way." John said, taking the lead, and guiding them on a course perpendicular to the one they had been on. They were heading south, cutting though yards and avoiding open streets as much as possible, always checking any street that they had to cross before they stepped into the open. It was still early enough that there was no one outside to see them trespassing. Soon the clouds covered the rising sun, and the world was cast into gloom. As the gunfire faded from hearing, the adrenaline faded from their blood. By the time they reached Bill's, a few miles south of the hospital, they where panting, sweating, and utterly exhausted. A constant state of adrenaline is rough on the body, and once the juicing hormone is absent, the body tends to crash. Marcus and John knew this all too well as Lisa let them into the warm little house. It was like something out of an entirely different city. From the inside, the walls looked like finished wood, much to cozy for the harsh industrial city. The front hall was hard wood, and there was a thick rug in the living room to their right. There was a TV on, set to the news.

"The gunfight rages on. It is believed that five Policemen have lost their lives. Once confirmed it will be an officer death toll record that this city didn't need broken." The reporter was saying.

"Yeah, no shit." Marcus said as he staggered into the hardwood hallway.

"What happened to you guys?" Lisa asked, worried. "How did this start up?"

Neither of them answered for a few moments as they caught their breath. "When I went to pick him up, the cops showed up. We locked up in the bathroom, and soon the Bores showed up, probably tipped off by whoever they've got working for them in the cop's department. There was a shoot out, and both sides ended up calling backup. We hardly made it out in the chaos."

"Did they follow you?" A grumbling gravelly voice came from no where, and Marcus nearly drew a pistol, but checked himself, they where useless anyway. He'd been expecting Bill to show up soon, and sure enough, the bear swaggered around the corner and into the front hall. You'd have had to cut him in half to consider him huge. He was tall, wide, and entirely massive. He wasn't overly fat, but he wasn't all that muscled either. He was far too big for the quaint little house.

"No. Absolutely not." Marcus spoke up, unfazed, just as John had predicted.

"You're sure?" He asked harshly.

"Absolutely." Marcus repeated. "You Bill?" The bear nodded slowly. Marcus walked towards him slowly. His stitches where killing him, throbbing now more then stinging. He reached the behemoth and looked squarely up at him, then held out his right hand. "Thank you."

The bear accepted, his hand enveloping the wolf's.

"Anything for my pup." He said, glancing over to Lisa. Marcus eyes fluttered a little, and his knees gave out. Bill swept a huge arm around the wolf's side and scooped him up before he hit the ground. John looked concerned as the unconscious Marcus was carefully slung over Bill's shoulder. "If the story you two told me is half true, I'm surprised he's stayed standing this long."

"He's a tough little bastard." John agreed.

"No question." Lisa said. "We owe him a lot." John and Bill both nodded.

"He kept you safe. He's as good as family here." Bill said. "Come on Jonny. I've got some cots set up downstairs. You two can rest down there. You can stay here today and tonight, then take my car tomorrow and get the hell out of here. Lisa will be sleeping upstairs with me." The last thing he said sharply, so sharp it worried John. He glanced back to Lisa, but she seemed unworried. Bill must have noticed.

"Don't worry yourself about that. She's more a daughter to me than anything else. I love her, but not like that." The big bear explained. John was satisfied with the response, and he followed Bill down the wooden steps into the basement. Each step warped and groaned as the huge bear, burdened with Marcus, stepped on them. Finally they made it to the cement floor. The stairs ended with about five feet between it's last step and the middle of the northern wall of the basement. Bill turned right, and started into the darkness.

"Hit the switch on your left." He said. John looked on the wall and saw two switches on the wall. He flipped them both, and faint lights flickered to life over the entire basement. Some odds and ends, some dusty old furniture, a workbench, and a giant chest of tools filled the left side of the basement. There was only some cardboard boxes, and two cots on the right side. On each cot was a pillow, and a comforter. They looked so enticing. John walked forward, almost hypnotized by the soft looking blankets. He hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, and every one of them had been full of terror and uncertainty.

Bill set Marcus down on one of the cots. "I'll go get him some new clothes. He's sweat through these already. I'll get some bandages too, and some clothes for you. You can change his clothes and bandages. I'm nice, but not that nice."

"You think he'll need new bandages?"

Bill nodded. "Those stitches are fresh and you guys just ran your hearts out. There's got to be some leaking, but don't worry too much. Just change the bandages and he'll be fine." John nodded. Bill headed upstairs, flipping the switch on the left, and leaving the left side of the basement in darkness. John, taking a lesson from Hollywood, pulled the 9mm and the .45 from Marcus' pants. He put the 9mm under his own pillow and the .45 under Marcus', not thinking that without ammo they where entirely useless. Marcus groaned and mumbled a bit when John lifted his pillow top place the gun under it, but he never opened his eyes. Bill came back down a few minutes later, with a pile of clothes, some bandages, and a box of .45 ammo.

"I saw your buddies guns." He explained. "I've got no 9mm, but I can give you these. You know how to load them?" John shook his head. "I'm sure he does." He said nodding towards Marcus. John nodded. "I'll let him show you then when he wakes up." He set his packages on John's cot next to him. Now they had two boxes of .45 ammo, but only one .45.

"Thank you for your help." John said. "We're in a hell of a mess."

Bill nodded. "Anything I can do, I will. I appreciate you not blaming all of this on Lisa, although you easily could and I'd hardly have ground to argue against it. She's got enough to worry about without thinking she's gotten you two killed."

John shook his head. "It's not really her fault. The Bores are messed up. They where gonna kill her and we were closest. I can't blame her."

Bill smiled for the first time sense John had met him. "You're the best guys she's ever brought home. Now rest up. Come upstairs for food whenever you want it." John thanked Bill again, and the bear departed, ducking a pipe hanging about five inches off of the ceiling. Half-way up the stairs, Bill stopped. "The Bores have already stopped in once, and probably will again. They know I'm connected to Lisa, so don't be surprised if they come looking for you. If you hear anything disturbing from upstairs, it'll mean I failed at keeping them out." John nodded his understanding, and Bill departed. Once he was gone, John quickly changed into the dry clothes, and hung his wet ones from the pipe Bill had ducked under. He slowly pulled Marcus' shirt up over his head. He half woke up.

"What's going on?" He asked drowsily.

"We're in Bill's basement." John explained softly. "He gave us another set of clothes. We've got to change you and your bandages."

"Mmmm" Marcus moaned, but he sat up and let John finish pulling his shirt off. He tried to stand, but stumbled back onto his bed. "So damn tired." He mumbled. He and John worked his pants off and tossed them aside. John had him lie on his stomach.

"I've got to change your bandages." He said. He could see the blood, red on the white bandages. Bill was right. He quickly pulled the bandages free from the back of Marcus' shoulder and thigh. Marcus hardly acknowledged the actions. John replaced the old bandages with new ones, then turned Marcus back over. He did the same for the bandages on Marcus' front, then struggled to get the exhausted Marcus' boxers off. John turned towards the pile of clothes and pulled some underwear, a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt from the pile. It fit Marcus' style, strangely enough. He turned and Marcus' head was lifted. He was working his eye-brows up and down, with his hips thrust a few extra inches off the bed.

John chuckled softly. "Not right now, bud." He said. "It's time for rest." The struggled the clean clothes onto Marcus. Within moments Marcus was back to sleep, and John covered him in the comforter Bill had provided. John lay down on his own cot, and just like Marcus, passed out within seconds.

Marcus woke up, dazed and confused. It was dark and cool, but he had a warm blanket around him. He sat up, and felt the cot bounce beneath him. His memory came back to him, and he smiled a little as he remembered how tender John had been with him. The basement was quiet. He looked over, and saw that John's cot was flat. His stomach was rumbling with hunger, and his bladder felt about ready to burst.

How long did I sleep? He wondered. He got out of the cot, and made his way upstairs. He opened the door at the top of the stairs. There was a room in darkness off to his left, but there was light from his right down the hall. He found a bathroom directly across from him. He counted it as a detour before he headed for the lit room, and used to toilet. When he exited, both Lisa and John where looking down the hall at him.

"Hey, you're up." Lisa said in a voice that seemed to sweet for her character. "Come get some food." John hurried into the lit room, a kitchen where John handed him a turkey sandwich.

"Lisa was just telling me about Bill and her dad." John said as Marcus swallowed chunks of the sandwich. "Jeez, slow down." John was smiling. It seemed out of place, like Lisa's voice. The whole house was dark save for the kitchen, and it gave them a 'safe and sound' kind of feel. Outside of the window over the sink was pitch black.

"Did I sleep through the whole day?" Marcus asked.

"Its' night isn't it?" Lisa said. "You must have been exhausted. I didn't get shot, and I just woke up about an hour ago."

"It's nice in here." Marcus said, looking around. "Quiet." He said with a sigh of relief.

"I love quiet."

"Quiet is nice." John said, and they all enjoyed the quiet for a minute.

"Anyway," Lisa said. "I'm like a daughter to Bill. He basically helped my father raise me after my mother died. My father, and Bill, where Bores at certain points. So was my mother. She was a whore for them." She spit out the word whore like it was bitter in her mouth. "She loved my dad though, and when she had his kid, the Bores killed her because no one wanted to have sex with her once her bodied taken the beating of childbirth. Not when they could get plump, undamaged girls for just as much. That's when my father and Bill both dropped out of the gang, and tried to disappear.

"We moved so many times I can't even count them. About two years ago, they caught up with us. They killed my father, and took me away. They let Bill live as long as he stayed away from me, and out of their business. I was determined not to end up like my mother. I kept putting off getting their mark; their tattoo. I was always planning on leaving, I was just waiting for a point when I could escape. Guess this wasn't a very good time to try it, but I had to get out of there." Her eyes looked sad, and tired, and much older than her body. "I can't really express how appreciative I am of you two, and how sorry I am that you're involved in all this."

"Their scum bags." Marcus said, placing a hand on Lisa's shoulder. "They deserve whatever we can give them. We've cost them a few guys already. Maybe they'll decide we're not worth it and call off this little hunt of theirs."

It looked like Lisa wanted to say something, but she held herself back. Instead she smiled sweetly. "Yeah. I'm sure they'll back off soon and we can all forget about this." They sat in silence again. Marcus started to make a second sandwich. "Well, believe it or not I'm still tired, so I'm going to head back to sleep now." As she left she looked back over her shoulders. "Thank you again guys. I can't say that enough. You don't know how much you've done for me." Marcus raised his sandwich and waved her goodnight. John just nodded and returned her smile.

Once she was gone, John said, "She's nice."

Marcus nodded as he chewed. "She's had a hard time, and it's not going to get better for a while. Did you see what she did?" John shook his head. "She was going to tell me that the Bores where more tenacious then that, that they wouldn't stop no matter how much blood they lost until they had my blood to make up for it. Then she didn't. She held back for my sake."

"Your blood?" John asked.

"I killed Jason."

"I killed that gator." John said evenly.

"And saved my ass." Marcus said. This time he did hug John.

"I can think of something else I'd do for your ass." John whispered in Marcus' ear.

"And I, yours." Marcus countered, his hands dropping to John's rear. "Let's head downstairs."

They cleaned up their mess in the kitchen, turned out the lights, and made their way down to the basement.

"So what is it you'd like to do to my ass, buddy?" Marcus asked, standing in front of his cot in the darkness.

"Well, I could tell you, but I think I'd rather show you." John said. Marcus was already pulling off his shirt, and heading for his cot. John slid his cot up directly next to Marcus' to give them more room. He took off his own shirt. Marcus was sitting up straight on the cots.

"So, what is it you're going to show me?" He asked. John reached out and pushed Marcus onto his back. He reached for the button of the wolf's pants and quickly unsnapped it. He pulled down the zipper and slid the pants down to Marcus' knees. He could see Marcus' sac quite well through the tight, white material of his borrowed underwear. Still he pulled the material away and pushed it down to join Marcus' jeans. He grabbed onto Marcus' swelling sheath with both hands and started rubbing it. He leaned down, laying on top of Marcus' legs, and took the wolf's left nut into his mouth. Marcus leaned his head back, and John felt Marcus' pink cock make it's debut.

He pulled himself up and quickly took the tip of Marcus' cock into his mouth. He continued working at the sheath with his hands while he licked and toyed with Marcus' growing erection with his mouth. Before long, the fertile wolf was fully erect and ready to go.

"My turn." Marcus said, sitting up, pushing, and crawling over to his stomach. He dropped his head into John's lap even before he got John's pants free. He reached up and undid John's pants, then reached through the hole in the front of the underwear and pulled John's sheath and balls free. His white fuzzy balls where a tight fit through the hole, but managed to get them out.

"I've never done this before." Marcus warned.

"Me neither," John said. "and I think I did a good enough job."

Marcus looked back at his still throbbing erection. "Yeah I'd say so." John's sheath was already sufficiently swollen and it only took a few seconds before Marcus was coaxing the huskies member from the white sheath. He pulled at it with his lips, and pushed his tongue over the tip over and over, all the while massaging John's soft balls. When the husky was fully erect, he took control again.

"Now I can show you part one." He said, pulling Marcus' bobbing head off of his cock. "On your back again." He said. Marcus obeyed, laying flat on his back. John stood up from the cots, and removed his pants entirely. Then he approached Marcus' legs, and pulled them up, still stuck together by the pants around his knees. He pushed his head in under Marcus so that his muzzle was up against the wolf's ass. John let Marcus legs rest on his back as he began probing with his tongue. This was all new to him, but not nearly as unpleasant as he had expected. He pushed his tongue in through Marcus' extremely tight tail hole and worked it around. Marcus' wasn't exactly the easiest man to penetrate. As a first timer he was tense, tight, and was clenching frequently, but as inexperienced as he was, John managed a descent rim job.

Soon he pulled up and away from Marcus. "You have got to try that." He said gasping a little.

"Maybe next time." John promised. "For right now, I want to show you what I meant to in the first place." He pushed Marcus' legs up father until they where resting on his shoulders, and his cock was lined up with Marcus wet tail hole. John put some spit in his hand and worked it on his shaft. He grabbed Marcus' good leg with his left hand, and grabbed onto the wolf's cock like a handle. "This is part two. Tell me if it's too much for you." Marcus nodded, and John proceeded.

He started slow, just sliding his tip into Marcus' virgin hole, but then he went harder. His saliva was doing a descent job of lubing, but Marcus was going through the same thing that John had last night. He was writhing and moaning, groaning and grunting as the husky rooted deeper and deeper. John paused.

"You alright?" He asked. Marcus just nodded, and John continued. He had to push harder then he'd expected, but soon he was pushed into Marcus right up to the top of his forming knot. He pumped on Marcus' cock slowly while he got used to the new pressure inside of him.

Breathing hard, Marcus said, "I never knew jabbing someone's prostate could make them fell so good."

John smiled. "Amazing isn't it?" Marcus nodded. John started to pull out, then push himself back in. Marcus was incredibly warm and smooth on the inside. He wrapped around John's cock absolutely, and there was a level of intimacy that neither of them had ever reached with anyone before.

"Do it." Marcus said, reaching down and grabbing onto John's legs and pulling him forward. He tossed his head back and moaned, his legs straightening and shaking in ecstasy as John re-filled him. John started fucking at a descent pace right off the line. Apparently Marcus was done adjusting, and now just needed his growing release to come. John pushed himself in and out of Marcus' tight ass fast and hard. The cot jumped up and down as he hit Marcus harder and harder. He was giving Marcus a hell of a hand job at the same time, working both hands on his shaft from base to tip. His knot was full now, and pushing Marcus farther and farther apart with each thrust.

"Finish it." Marcus called out. John thrust with all his strength and his knot popped into place, slamming his nuts up against Marcus' ass. Marcus clenched hard in surprise, and sent John over the edge. Marcus blew his load moments later and shot rope after rope across his chest and on John's hands. John leaned forward and laid on top of Marcus chest, holding him close. As soon as he was able to, he pulled out of Marcus' ass and slid up closer so that he could rest his chin on Marcus' shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time. Holding tight to each other, just enjoying each other at the basest level. They fell asleep like that, but the night didn't last long.

"Get out of my house!" The deep bodied voice of Bill woke John and Marcus from their slumber. They awoke side by side, not quite how they'd fallen asleep. They jumped out of bed, and slipped their pants on quickly. It sounded like there was a great struggle going on upstairs as bodies crashed around and slammed into things.

"My gun. Where's my gun?" Marcus asked, searching frantically. John reached under Marcus' pillow, and tossed him the .45. "Where's the ammo?" Marcus asked. John grabbed that too, and handed it over. His eyes where wide, alert, and ready. Marcus knew that John could now be trusted to handle the situation perfectly well. He went to the job of reloading the .45 as quickly as he could manage. There was running feet overhead, and the door to the basement was ripped open. Marcus pointed over to the stairs, and John silently hurried under them.

He looked back at Marcus as the wolf finished loading up the .45 clip and slowly slipped it into place. Marcus pointed at John, then pulled a finger across his throat in the death symbol. John shrugged. He didn't get it. Marcus looked around, but saw nothing to help him portray his message. He pointed at John again, then held the base of the .45 and stabbed it through the air like a knife. John nodded in understanding. He reached up to his pants on the pipe and pulled them off.

Apparently having been standing at the top of the stairs just listening, the Bore shouted back into the house as he heard John's pants flutter. "There's someone in the basement. Get down there and check it out." The struggle continued to rage on upstairs, but soon a pair of legs came into view as they hurried down the stairs. John looked at Marcus for guidance. Marcus nodded towards the descending fur. John's resolve hardened. He drew the knife from the pants in his hand and held it reversed in his right hand. He hesitated for just a second, then reached out between the wooden stairs, and jammed the blade into the fur's ankle.

The attacked fur let out a deafening scream, and John yanked back on the blade with all of his strength. The fur, revealed as a racoon, tumbled down the stairs, screeching more then screaming until he was silenced as his head slammed into the concrete. The Bore at the top of the stairs started firing down through the floor at John.

"Marcus!" John yelled as he stumbled backwards, covered in debris. Fear gripped Marcus as he raised the barrel of the .45 and opened fire. He slammed round after round up at the fur shooting through the ground. Quickly, the Bore stopped firing and simply took cover.

A look of thick concern covered his face as Marcus looked towards John. John gave him a shaky thumbs up as he shook dust from his fur. Marcus, relieved, started heading slowly towards the stairs. The struggle was still apparently still going with renewed intensity. Then there was a roar that shook the very foundation of the house. Marcus jumped out to the bottom of the stairs, and stood face to face with a dingo, staring down the stairs at him. Worry was evident in his eyes, then three shots went off, and there was one final great crash.

A smile spread across the dingo's face. "Fatty's down." Marcus stared hard at the dingo, not daring to twitch his eyes away for even a moment. Through his periferal vision he could see John looking exacerbated. Why didn't he shoot? Even if he put a .45 round straight through the dingo's brain stem, which would be extremely lucky at the range and angle of the shot, the dingo's dying action would be the little twitch required to fire down at Marcus. He didn't want to take that risk if he didn't have to.

They stood in a dead lock for a few seconds. Soon the dingo started to wonder if he'd celebrated early when his friend didn't come running in to aid him.

"Yo, Young?" He called to no response. He cursed to himself. Marcus slowly started to smile.

"Poor Young." He said harshly.

"Hey shut the f-" Lisa slid in from the side of the darkened room, and hit the dingo with the most beautiful hay maker that Marcus had ever seen. She let out a comical "Hiyah!" as she hit him as well. Marcus couldn't help but smile as he rushed up the stairs. He saw Lisa throw a follow-up kick, but the dingo had flown far out of sight so he couldn't see if it landed or not. Lisa followed the dingo out of his view. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Lisa and the dingo had disappeared into the kitchen. He hurried in after them, glancing to his right, but seeing nothing in the front hall. Lisa had the dingo pushed up against the counter, his gun pinned down beside him. He was slamming punch after punch down on her, which she took onto the side of her arm as she held it over the side of her head.

The dingo kicked out at her knees, but she held firm. He caught sight of the approaching Marcus, and started to panic. He flailed harder and harder, but Lisa's determination held him in place just long enough. Just when he broke free and tried to lift his gun, Marcus caught the dingo's gun hand in a tight grip with his left hand and slammed it onto the counter. He ducked the dingo's left hook, then drew back his .45, and slammed the base of the handle into the dingo's temple. There was a spot of blood that was quickly becoming a line dripping down the side of the dingo's head, even before he hit the ground.

"Where's Bill?" Marcus asked.

"Bret!" cried an unfamiliar voice. Marcus turned, and in the hall between the basement door and the kitchen stood another racoon, leveling a pistol in their direction. Marcus didn't even have time to worry before John slammed an open hand into the side of the racoon's head and crushed his skull into the wall. He was still standing afterwards, but hardly. John swung a hard left hook into the side of the rocked gangsters head, and after falling halfway to the ground, and slamming his head into the wall for a second time, the gangster decided it was time to sleep.

"He came from the family room." John explained simply. A grunt came from beside John, but out of sight of Marcus. Still Marcus raised his gun. John spun quickly, his hands raised. "Bill." He said, dropping his hands and rushing forward out of sight. Marcus gave his .45 to Lisa and rushed towards John. Lisa was close behind, her eyes scanning in all directions. She, like John, was handling things much better then the first time. It was amazing what a fur could learn in a day and a half if the need was great enough. Bill was crawling on the floor, badly injured with too many cuts and scrapes to count, as well as two bullet wounds to the gut.

"Don't go in there Lisa." He said when he saw the coyote rushing forward. "Just stay right there." He smiled again. "I'm glad your okay." He said.

She nodded, smiling sadly as she looked over him. "Now you have to be okay too, alright?"

Bill snorted. "Okay? I'll be up and running in a few minutes. I'm a bear sweetheart. This aint much to me." Marcus doubted the true weight of those words, but didn't say so. He leaned forward and looked around the corner into the living room. He had to work to keep from gasping. The gangster in there, a tiger, was torn up real bad. He was missing some sizeable chunks, but worst of all, his head was crushed from the side. Marcus pulled back.

"With your hands?" He asked. Bill apparently understood, and nodded.

Marcus stood under one arm, while John stood under the other. Together they helped Bill make it into the kitchen. "Just put me down on that chair." He said, referencing a stool opposite of the sink. John and Marcus struggled to drag the behemoth across the kitchen, but in the end managed to get him sitting on the bench. He leaned back against the wall behind him.

"You kids'r in deep, huh?" Bill said. "You know, I've been thinking of a way you can get out of this. It took a while but I think I've got the answer."

"What is it?" Marcus asked.

"Well..." Bill started. "You have to take down the Bores."

"Take down the Bores?" John asked.

"We can't do that." Marcus added.

"Bill. How can you just say that like it's so simple. We're three ordinary furs. We can't be a three man army. We're nothing compared to them."

Bill raised a hand and pointed to Lisa. "You are far from ordinary, and far above nothing."

He turned his hand towards Marcus. "You too are anything but normal." He turned towards John. He looked to the gangster John had KO'd. "You...your getting there quick. Besides," He said, lowering his hand, and leaning back harder. "I didn't say you'd do it alone." The three canines where silent.

"There's a gang that not a lot of the average people in the city know about." Bill said. "They're called the Payns. Cheesy unimaginative name, but as of right now they're the biggest threat to the Bores. They're more businesslike, less brutal. Their not moral by any means, but they don't kill pointlessly, or lightly. They are intent on taking down the Bores. You three, must join with them."

"Join a gang." Marcus said aloud, but more to himself. "How?" he asked.

John looked at him like he was crazy. "What are you talking about? We can't join a gang."

"Why not?" Lisa asked. "It sounds like our best bet to me."

"Because we're going to leave the city." John argued. "That's how we're going to get out of this."

"You think that'll be good enough?" Marcus said. "Do you think they'll just let us run away to our corner and hide after this? They'll follow us, and they'll find us. We have to take them out somehow, and if Bill says this is our best chance, I'm inclined to agree."

"Listen." Bill said, producing a piece of paper from within his pocket as well as a ring of keys. "Take my car, and get going. The cops will be here soon. I'll deal with them, I promise. There's information on that paper that'll tell you everything you need to know. You can discuss this once you're out of here." Then he held up a hand and beckoned Marcus closer. He looked from the wolf to John, then back to Marcus. "He mean's a lot to you, doesn't he?" Marcus nodded slowly. "These two, are your pack now." His eyes probed through every shield Marcus had ever built up.

"You've never had a pack." Bill said.

"Not in a long time." He confirmed.

"Well that'll make it even more vital to you." Bill said. "You must protect them with your life. You have a responsibility as the most able to do so. And, pup, if you don't keep her safe I swear on my life you'll regret it."

"If I don't keep her safe I'll already be dead." Marcus promised.

Bill nodded. "Good. Now get out of here, quick." John and Marcus headed out of the kitchen. Lisa gave Bill a quick hug and sad kiss on the cheek. "See ya soon pup." Bill said. "I'll come find you guys when I can." Lisa nodded and hurried out with the rest of her pack. "Keep her safe, pup..." Bill said to himself. He heard the front door close, and he finally obeyed his eyes closing them, and collapsed onto the kitchen floor in a cold motionless heap.