FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The small town carnival was in full swing as the wolf stepped out of the woods. He laughed to himself softly as his eyes fell on a Buick Roadmaster sitting alone at the edge of the lot. Easy pickings. Hopping the fence and ducking down out of sight, he crept across the lot towards the vehicle. The noise from the festivities easily drowned out he sound of his fist smashing the window. He climbed in, sucking the small amount of blood that dripped from his knuckles. Clawing off the panel under the steering column was the easy part, recalling what to do next wasn't so easy. Racking his brains, and half guessing, he fiddled with the ignition and battery wires until the engine roared to life. He threw the car in reverse and slammed down on the gas, smashing the car behind him before peeling out of the parking lot. He only ever went one speed, and that speed was fast. The wolf sped down the motorway at his usual cruising speed of about 90, the transmission wouldn't shift into the next gear, so he redlined it for the next forty miles. By the time he rolled into the next town, smoke was pouring from the engine, covering the next four drivers in a dense, smelly fog. A red light up ahead forced him to stop. Beside him, sat a parked DMC-12, he looked at it and smiled. He had to have it. Granted, he drove his last DeLorean off a cliff, but he was sure to keep this one a little longer. He pulled his hood over his head, tugging it around his ears and patting it flat, before leaving the smoking Buick in the middle of the road. He looked through the window of the other car, the bag of cookies in the passenger side sold it for him. Smashing the small window and unlocking the door was pretty routine for him, he turned around to look but all he saw was smoke. The other car must have caught fire. He sat down in the driver side and ate a couple of the cookies before hot-wiring it and driving off. He was lost in his own mind, totally ignoring the other drivers on the road, he had his car, he had his cookies, nothing else mattered.

A few hours later, a vaguely familiar street sign pulled him into the parking lot of a bar.

The inside was pretty smokey, not as smokey as the road, but still hazy enough to where he couldn't see the back wall. He sat down and ordered a beer from the bartender, and sat sipping it for a few minutes. His ears perked up at the sound of someone calling his name. He moved the side of his hood away to listen better, and noticed a fox sitting in a booth across the room.

"Austin!" He called out.

The wolf pulled his hood over his face more and ignored the fox, but that only made him more persistent.

"Hey! How's it going?"

He looked over, the fox was sitting next to him now. "Who are you?"

"I'm Atlas, you know me," he said a bit confused.

"I don't think so."

"We've been best friends for like...twenty years!"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I feel like I would remember that."

"You were in an accident a while ago, you have difficulty remembering thigns."

Austin wanted to believe the fox, he vaguely recalled a large accident, but the holes in his memory caused him to doubt. He was about to take another drink when the fox stopped him.

"You don't do well when you drink."

"I do just fine," he told him, slamming the rest of the beer. The television played over the bar, news reports of auto-theft floated across the bottom of the screen.

"How many cars did you steal today?" The fox asked.

"I don't know, maybe four?"

"Austin! You know your not supposed to do that!"

"Why?"

The fox groaned, visibly flustered, "you can't take things that don't belong to you, it's just not polite."

"Oh," he struggled to recall whether or not he knew such of such a fact beforehand, but gave up. "What's your name?" He asked the fox.

"Atlas."

"Atlas? I think I remember you...we used to be roommates?" He asked slowly.

"Yep."

"Do you think I could stay with you tonight?"

"Sure, I'm leaving now, how about you come with."

The two of them got up, but Austin was called back to pay for the drink. He admitted to having no money, and Atlas covered the cost.

The ride to the motel was short, Austin was made to explain his motives for driving off a cliff a few weeks ago, to which he replied something about being upset. Atlas made some dinner for the two of them, and Austin wandered off to bed.

Atlas woke the next morning with a gun pointed at his face. Austin was standing in the door with an AK-47 staring him straight in the eye.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I'm your best friend, have been for about twenty years," he told him calmly.

"Prove it."

Proving his identity to someone with an inability to remember anything is a difficult task, but he knew there was one day the wolf would never forget. "I was there the night you decided to leave, I dropped you off at the bus station. You left your girl without telling her, you were worried that she'd dump you after your accident. You changed, you were afraid that she wouldn't accept you anymore because you became mentally incapacitated due to severe brain damage."

The point of the gun fell to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't worry, it used to happen all the time."

"Did you ever tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

"Why I left."

"You asked me not to, so I didn't, but she misses you, it's been quite a few years."

"I know."

"You should go back."

The wolf shrugged, "maybe."

"Let's go, where'd you get that gun?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean?" The fox stopped.

"All I remember is I was standing by the door with it."

"Alright, fine, leave it here."

"Why? It's pretty nice."

"People don't take to kindly to others who walk around with large weapons." The fox finished dressing and bent down to grab his bag, "what do you feel like doing today?"

"Eating?"