FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter Two-Pivotal Mistakes

A week had passed since the attacks on Manhattan now. The United States was still in utter shock over what had befallen the country, countless funeral and memorial services held for those who were killed in the attacks and those who died in the aftermath, whether civilians or the authorities. Widespread panic had flown through nearly everyone in the nation, though now that the President had made his statements and all was said and done, things were beginning to calm back down just the slightest bit.

Rudy had been going through his normal routine during that week. Mostly it consisted of school, homework, games and tuning his cars, and of course, sleep. Generally the shepherd led a fairly regular life, but at times, mostly to make money for himself besides doing odd jobs, he would go out to the local street scene and race others. Lately he'd been using his Civic, as it was the car that had less heat on it. Well, in theory it did, because the cops were more on the lookout for his 240SX and not the Honda. Of course, since the police were keeping him on raps right now he'd only been using the car to commute back and forth to school and to friend's houses.

Today hadn't really been much different from the rest of the week, other than he hadn't had much to do at school; in fact, he'd left after only three hours. He'd mostly just spent the day hanging out at Quentin's house playing some video games and a little bit of basketball, and everything seemed alright.

"Shit!" Rudy cursed as Quentin made another shot; the two were shirtless in the driveway, playing basketball outside at the moment.

"Haha, 19-18, my favor," the raccoon said, smirking as he panted a bit, slightly out of breath. "I gotcha this game, dickhead."

"All I gotta do is make a three and I still win," Rudy responded as he retrieved the ball, dribbling it as he walked back to where the set spot was to start the ball. "Check it." The shepherd bounced the ball to his friend, who passed it back to him, and the final part of the game began. Rudy started by dribbling with his left, and crossed over to his right as he faked left and went right with the ball, going in a few steps before Quentin caught up to him and tried to steal the ball. Rudy kept it by dribbling it back between his legs, stepping back behind the set three point line and taking the jump shot.

The ball passed through the hoop with a solid snap of the net, not even grazing the rim. Quentin just shook his head as Rudy pulled a victory fist. "Whoo! Fuck yeah, I gotcha again, coony boy!" the canine taunted, pointing at his friend and laughing. "Can't beat that clutch three pointer, man, I've gotten you every time with it."

"Man, how come you can't make that shit in a real game?" Quentin asked, looking at the hoop with a frustrated look on his face.

"Dunno," Rudy responded, still smirking. He then walked over to his shirt and picked it up along with his cell phone that was sitting atop it, which he checked the time on. "Oh, fuck! Shit, Quentin, I gotta go, I'm gonna be late for dinner if I don't go right now." The dog quickly slipped on his shirt and pocketed the phone, pulling his keys from his other pocket and running over to his car.

"Go go go, man!" Quentin called after him as Rudy got into the car and started it up. "I'll see you around!" The car then revved up and peeled away from the curb, accelerating down the street and heading around the corner towards Rudy's house. The raccoon walked over to his yard where his shirt lay, and as he picked it up he looked towards the curb again.

Something was glistening on the blacktop of the street. A bit confused and curious, Quentin walked over to it, bent down and examined the substance. It was a fluid for sure, and after the scent of it hit the raccoon's sensitive nose he knew that it was oil, and Rudy's car had been parked there just a few minutes earlier. It wasn't a huge puddle, but it was enough to be concerning for sure. He stood and put his shirt back on, heading back into his house.

By this time, Rudy had already made it back to his house, parking the Honda on the street outside the house like normal and getting out, heading into his home. The smell of his mother's cooking filled the dining room, making his stomach growl as he sniffed the air; there was a hint of spice to it, as well as something oven roasted. Whatever it was, he immediately couldn't wait to eat it, heading into the kitchen. His mother was in front of the stove, stirring something at the moment.

"Hey," Rudy said, making her look up from her cooking. "I'm home."

"Hey," she responded; even though the immediate crisis from the attacks was over, he could still tell that his mom was definitely under a lot of strain from having dealt with everything actively on base. Her voice was the easiest way to tell.

"Need any help with anything?" he asked her, walking a little closer.

"No, I've got everything under control," she responded, turning back to the stove to tend to her cooking again. "Thanks though."

"Welcome," her son responded. "I'm gonna go grab a shower real quick, I'll be back down in a few-" He was cut off as the phone rang, and he looked over to it. "I got it." He walked to the ringing handset and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Rudy?" Quentin's voice came from the other end. "It's Quentin."

"Hey man, what's up?" Rudy asked, leaning against the wall. "Did I forget something at your house again?"

"Nah, that's not why I'm callin'," Quentin replied. "Somethin's wrong with your ride. You left a pretty good puddle of oil in the street."

"What?" Rudy stood upright, a little surprised. "There's no way..."

"There is a way, and I know there is because I saw it on the ground dude," his friend responded. "You need to check it out, see what's wrong. I know taking the 240 out is a risky move but if the Honda's got something horribly wrong you're gonna wanna park it for a while."

"Yeah, I know, Q," the shepherd said, sounding annoyed. "I know cars, man, you don't need to tell me that. Listen, thanks for tellin' me, I'll check it out right now. Later." He hung the phone up, sighing in frustration. "Dammit..."

"What's wrong, honey?" Noelle called to her son.

"Fuckin' Honda's leaking oil apparently," Rudy said, opening the door to the garage and then the garage door itself. "Gonna check this out and see if Quentin's tellin' the truth." He went into the garage, shutting the door behind him and grabbing his low-pro hydraulic jack, heading outside to his car. He slid the jack underneath the car with a tad bit of difficulty as always, since the car was so low to the ground, and jacked it up as high off the ground as he could, leaving it like that for the moment as he went back into the garage to grab two jack stands and a flashlight. He walked back to his Civic and slid one of the stands under the car and made sure it was in place before he went over to the other side and jacked it up as well, repeating his actions with the other jack stand. "Fuckin' piece of shit..." Rudy muttered as he crawled under the car, turning on the flashlight and taking a little look around the bottom of the motor. "Huh..." He looked to the ground, where indeed there was a small puddle of oil of some sort. "Okay, he wasn't lying... now where's it leaking from..." The shepherd looked back up at the underside of the motor and transmission, and that's when he saw that his transmission casing had a crack in it, which was leaking out his gear and transmission oil in a steady drip. "...Fucking hell..." He slowly crawled out from under his car, tossing his flashlight on the lawn and stamping his foot on the ground in anger. "Fucking tranny leaking oil... where the fuck am I gonna get another one of these, huh?!"

"What's wrong, Rudy?" Rudy's dad's voice came from the garage door. Rudy turned around as his father walked out towards the car.

"Fuckin' thing has a crack in the transmission," Rudy responded, looking back at his Honda. "If I'm lucky I can weld it for now and then see if that'll hold it, but I'm still gonna see if I can get a new tranny for it now. If it's cracked, it's bound to happen again." The shepherd sighed again before throwing a fist at the air, away from his dad, who was now right beside him. "FUCK!"

"Damn... I'm sorry, bud," Baylor said, looking over the car; even he looked a little disappointed. "Well, you can fix it up after dinner, right?"

"If I've got enough wire for the welder, then yeah, I can, but even if I fix it tonight I've gotta let it sit until I get more tranny oil, and after that I gotta be careful until I get the new one," Rudy responded, sighing a little more. "Ugh, the life of owning a race car..."

"Heh, well, c'mon back inside, dinner's ready anyway," Baylor said, putting his paw on Rudy's shoulder. "It's only a minor setback. Granted it'll probably put a dent in that bank account, heheh." Again, Rudy sighed as he walked back into the house with his dad, leaving the car up on the jack stands; he was going to have to come back later anyway.

About a half an hour later, the canine was back outside, having gotten his welder out onto the street and taken the wheels off of his car so as to have a bit more room to see and move freely. He had a couple of lights set up to illuminate the underside of the car. He was actively welding the crack shut, taking his time and making sure that the weld was as good as he could possibly get it. All was going smoothly, and just as he finished up he heard someone call his name.

"Yeah?" he called out in response, not having heard much from the voice as he crawled out from under the car, taking off his welding mask.

"I said you've got a phone call," Noelle called to him again. "It sounds like one of your car friends. Should I tell them you'll call them back?"

"Nah, I just finished up anyway," Rudy said, turning off the welder. "Tell them I'll be there in a sec, I gotta put this away at least." His mother went back inside as Rudy took the welder and carried it back into the garage before heading into his house, picking up the phone that was off of the set already and resting on the table. "Yeah, this is Rudy."

"Hey Rude, it's Jason, what's up?" the voice came on the other end.

"Oh hey, Jason," Rudy said, leaning against the wall. "Not much, was just workin' on something."

"Nice, nice," Jason said. "Listen, there's a car meet going on later down at the pharmacy, you down to come? No racing tonight, just hanging out, chillin', shit like that."

"Yeah, I'm down," Rudy said, studying his paw for a moment to see if he'd gotten any weld burns of any sort. "When's it happening?"

"Meet starts at 10, bro," Jason responded. "Bring the Civic if you can; I haven't seen that thing but I've always heard talk about it." Rudy sighed.

"Can't bring it tonight," Rudy told him. "Got home today and got a call from a friend about oil on the road; I checked it and the tranny had a crack in the casing that was leaking transmission oil. I just welded it shut but I don't wanna take the risk of fucking it up any more. I'm gonna get a new tranny for it here in a few days."

"Ah, shit dude, sorry," Jason said, sounding a bit disappointed. "Well, 240SX it is for you, I guess. How's that RB swap doin' for ya?"

"Not too bad, honestly. Just been messing with the turbo setup and whatnot. I'm hitting about 10 or 12 pounds of boost right now fully romped."

"Damn dude, not bad. Anyways, I gotta get outta here now, see if I can get the Mazda to even start today for the meet. Later."

"'Right, see you around man." Rudy then hung up the phone, heading for the stairs. "Hey, Mom? I'm gonna head out around 9:45 for a car meet, alright?"

"Okay honey," Noelle answered him as he began to ascend the stairs to his room. "Should we wait up for you?"

"Nah, it'll probably be late by the time I get back," Rudy responded. "Don't bother, just head to bed, I'll be home later."

"Alrighty," Noelle said. "Hope you have a good time down there!"

"Thanks, I will," Rudy called as he opened the door to his room. "I'm gonna play some video games for now." He then went into his room and shut the door, the startup sound of his Playstation being able to be heard through the door.

A couple of hours later the young shepherd had shut off his games and bounded down the stairs, heading out into the garage to get in his 240SX. He knew he was taking a bit of a risk, taking the Nissan out while the cops were watching his moves closely, but he didn't really pay it much mind at this current moment; after all, it was a late night meet, and no street races. It was just going to be some good times with his friends in the street scene, time to see some nice cars and get modding ideas for his car. He got in and started it up, backing it out of the open garage door and onto the street before heading towards the pharmacy, which wasn't much more than a fifteen minute drive from his house. He pulled into the rather large parking lot for such a small shop and parked his car in a space between a Nissan 300ZX and an Acura Legend, getting out and bumping his fist against the owner of the Acura's in respect before doing the same to the owner of the other vehicle.

"Yo, Rudy!" he heard a voice call; it was Jason. He looked over in the direction where the voice had come from and saw the buffed-up jaguar waving him over. He raised his hand in the air before heading over and bumping fists with him.

"'Sup, dude?" Rudy said, leaning up against the fender of Jason's Mazda MX-6. "Got this big ol' bitch started, huh?"

"Yeah, finally," Jason responded, slicking his hair back a little. "Shit's still stalling out all the time though; don't know what's wrong with it. Probably the idle and shit is fucked up, but hey, when it runs, it runs fucking mint."

"I guess, man," Rudy said, looking over the MX-6 he was leaned against. "It definitely looks pretty nice. Still got the factory V6 in it?"

"Well yeah, still the original motor, but it ain't factory anymore, trust me," Jason said with a smirk as he walked over to the hood and tapped on it. "Fully built internals and full turbo kit, hitting 17 Psi with aftermarket boost controller and wastegate."

"Sure you didn't cheap out on that shit too?" Rudy said, smirking a bit as Jason turned around and looked at him with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Dammit Rudy, you know I can't afford that expensive shit you get," Jason said, shaking his head a little. "You've got the money to get that kind of shit... which reminds me, how the hell do you even get all that money?"

"Street races, odd jobs for neighbors, making bets with friends at school, that kind of thing," Rudy responded, looking at his paw for a few moments. "It's not that hard to make money if you know how to do it, dude. And also, how did you not know how I made money? You've seen me racing before."

"Eh, I knew you made some money there, but I didn't know you made enough to mod the absolute fuck out of all your cars," Jason responded, looking over to the entrance to the lot as a couple more cars rolled in and parked. "Looks like shit's livening up a bit here. Let's do some revs and shit."

"I'm not gonna do anything right now, dude," Rudy said, standing upright now. "I'd rather not get busted tonight."

"Aw, c'mon, since when are you afraid to do some revving and shit?" Jason said, poking Rudy's chest. "Is someone scared of the cops all of a sudden?"

"Since one came to my house and told me not to do stupid shit or else I'd get busted, yeah," the canine responded. Jason looked at him with a bit of a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"You're tellin' me that a cop literally came to your house, and told you not to do stupid shit, and yet you still came here where stupid shit is bound to happen?"

"Yeah."

"...You give absolutely no fucks, don't you?"

"Pretty much. Tell you what, I'll give it a few little 4k braps and that's it for tonight, alright? Just to say I did something, at least."

"Alright, fire that bitch up and get her in the middle of the lot!" Jason smacked his paws together in excitement, and Rudy just shook his head with a smirk on his face as he walked over to his car, starting it up and pulling it to the middle of the parking lot like Jason had said. "Yo! Rudy's rippin' the 240 out here tonight!" Rudy heard Jason yell, as his window was rolled down. Some of the others at the meet turned their attention to the shepherd, and he immediately began revving up his car, going up to only 4,000 RPM before letting off the throttle and rapidly two-stepping it. Even though it was at a relatively average RPM, the decibel rating that the exhaust was at was almost deafening, and may furs clapped and cheered for him as he then chirped his tires, letting a little squeal come from them as he jumped forward a bit, letting his car die back down to idle and pulling it over next to Jason's MX-6.

"There, I did it," Rudy said as he stepped out of his car, shutting the door behind him. "That's my dumb shit for the night."

"Your shit is so fuckin' loud, dude!" Jason said, jumping up and down a bit; he did this a lot when he was excited. "I'm surprised it didn't spit flames!"

"It does when I bounce it off rev limiter," Rudy responded. He then heard some other loud revving and looked over to the source of the sound, where a Mazda MX-5 Miata was revving up to redline and bouncing off rev limiter; it was definitely loud, but not as loud as Rudy's car. "Not bad for a Miata."

"That kid's new around here actually," Jason commented. "I talked with him earlier and he's had that Miata for 4 years. It's turbo, the 1.6 motor."

"Not bad at all for a Miata, then," Rudy said, leaning up against his car's fender. "What's his name, anyway?"

"I think it's like... Orion or some shit, can't remember," Jason replied. Another car started revving up, and both looked over to where the sound was coming from again. "Jesus, you sparked some good stuff here. Doesn't actually sound like a total ricebox piece of shit, considering that's an Accord."

"Christ...," Rudy muttered, looking at his watch for a moment; 10:15. "Man, I don't know how much longer I'mma stick around. Don't wanna be home too late and I don't wanna stick around for the cops either."

"C'mon, dude, don't be such a puss," Jason said, slugging Rudy on the shoulder playfully. "Ain't no cops gonna be comin' down here. We aren't doin' anything wrong, they've got no reason to come down here."

"Eh... true enough." The shepherd shrugged and opened up the door of his car, sitting down on the edge of the seat and putting the key in the ignition, giving it a turn but not starting the car. His stereo came on, and the CD in the stereo began to play at a moderate volume.

"Hey, what band is that?" Jason asked, listening to the opening of the song that was playing.

"They're new," Rudy responded. "Good Charlotte's what they're called. This is their first album, pretty much brand new, came out about a year ago I think."

"Hm, they don't sound half bad," Jason commented as he listened to the guitars and drums of the song, as well as the vocals from the lead singer. "You're still into all that punk and alternative rock shit, huh?"

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"Ah, nothin' man, music is music. Pretty much all of it is good."

"True that." The young shepherd looked around at the lot for a moment; it was definitely a lively night. There were a lot of familiar faces and cars to go along with them sitting in the parking lot, and some new ones thrown into the mix as well. All of the cars were tastefully customized, whether with full street racing parts resembling "The Fast and The Furious" type builds or simple, cheaper modifications, such as rims and lowering springs to make the car look good, like Rudy's own. Of course, some of the cars that had the full body kits and such had little to no modification under the hood, but generally those who applied to that case knew it and didn't boast about how fast their car was, just how it looked.

After a few minutes of listening to his music, Rudy decided to get up and walk around a bit, check out some of the other cars on scene, maybe talk to a new driver or two. Standing from his car seat, he shut the door behind him and walked around the parking lot a bit, taking in the sights of the other cars; some had their hoods open, showing their performance modifications, others had their hoods closed to simply display the car itself and not the internals. The young shepherd came to a Honda Prelude, which had the hood open, showing a full turbo build and shined exhaust manifold, valve cover and even motor block. He admired the work for a few moments before he heard someone walk up next to him.

"Pretty good, ain't she?" the fur beside Rudy said; he was a lynx.

"Definitely not bad," Rudy replied. "What you runnin'?"

"Factory H22A4, build head. The turbo is a basic T3, hitting around eight pounds of boost on a constant basis. I'm trying to build it up for a T4 so I can get a better boost out of it, but it's gonna take a while to get it that way, know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I gotcha. You could probably run some bigger injectors than what you have right now, whatcha got?"

"Got some 500cc injectors in it right now."

"Try some 550's, those might help with that." Squealing tires were heard at that moment, which made Rudy and the lynx turn around to see one of the other cars was doing a burnout, and a pretty big one at that. The smoke from the burning tires was pluming up into the air, which, for a brief moment, reminded Rudy of the attacks that had happened only a week before. That thought was gone from his mind in an instant though as he looked around, trying to make sure there wasn't a cop anywhere nearby. He saw none and sighed a little in relief.

"Definitely not a bad burnout," the lynx commented. "Anyway... you're Rudy, right? The guy with that 240 from earlier?"

"Yeah," Rudy replied. "You're wondering what I got in there, right?"

"Hell yeah I am dude, that shit sounds mean!" the lynx said. "That definitely ain't a KA like stock, gotta be swapped to some crazy shit."

"It's not that crazy, just an RB20DET with a massive straightpipe," the young dog responded. "A few other mods too, of course."

"Well I wouldn't doubt it," the lynx said. "Next time you're out dude, we should race, see whose car is faster."

"Yours would probably get the jump since it's front wheel drive, but I'd pull on you in second and third gear," Rudy said. "Hondas aren't really known for the amount of torque they have, they're best known for reliability and the variety of parts you can fit on them and in them."

"Definitely man. Hey, I don't think I actually introduced myself. Max."

"Good to meet you man. You new around here?"

"Yeah, pretty new. Moved down here two weeks ago to be with my fiancée. She always loved Cali so she came here and I made it down as soon as I could. Surprised we're still together despite the distance, honestly... guess it shows dedication."

"Definitely man, glad it's working out for you." Rudy took a moment to think of his own girlfriend before turning to Max. "Hey, since you're new, let's get you familiarized with the street scene around here. It's not much compared to L.A. or San Francisco, but it's not a bad little scene down here."

"Hey, thanks man!"

"No problem, heh. Kind of a courtesy among car guys, y'know?" With that, the two started going around to the other cars and drivers, checking each vehicle out and seeing every unique build that they all had going on.

There was a pretty good turnout for the meet that night; plenty of drivers had brought their cars, whether they were stock and just there to hang, a brand new car, full race build or full visual show car build, there were a lot of furs at the meet. Of course, the usual idiotic things that would happen at a car meet happened; burnouts, revving, trash talking, and other general mayhem. It was putting Rudy on edge, however, and he was constantly on the lookout for police as the minutes went by. Eventually, he checked his watch, seeing it was about 10:35. It wasn't that late, but if things continued the way they were going he knew that someone was going to attract attention from the cops if they hadn't already, and he decided to head out and lay low somewhere for a while.

"Yo, you good?" Max asked, breaking Rudy from his thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Rudy replied. "Just thinking about getting out of here and hanging with a friend for a little while. Things have been kind of hot lately between me and the cops and I don't really feel like getting busted tonight."

"Ah yeah, I get that feel," Max said. "I had the cops watching me at one point because they caught me doing burnouts and I got let off with a misdemeanor, thank God."

"Yeah. Well hey, you have a good time at the rest of the meet, right? And don't let anyone trash talk you without you throwing it right back, man, it's the way we do it around here. We're all friends but we throw that kind of shit at each other all the time."

"Haha, I gotcha man. Thanks for showin' me around, hope to see you again sometime dude."

"Same to you bro." The two bumped fists before going their separate ways, Rudy heading back over to his car and getting in. He took his phone out of the center console and dialed a few numbers before putting it up to his ear, putting the keys in the ignition.

"Hello?" the voice came on the other end.

"Hey, Quentin, it's Rudy," Rudy said as he turned the key, starting up the car and then making sure it was in neutral. "Mind if I come over for a bit? I'm in the 240 right now at a car meet and shit's getting a little too sketch for me right now. Lots of noise and burnouts down here and I don't want to get busted tonight."

"Right man, you come on over here," Quentin said. "I gotcha. See you in a bit."

"Alright. Later." Rudy ended the call and began to pull away from his parking spot when someone tapped on the window. He rolled it down, and as he had suspected, it was Jason.

"Yo man, where you headed?" Jason asked him.

"Gonna dip before things get more heated," Rudy responded. "I'll see you around." With that he pulled away, not waiting for an answer as he pulled his car to the dip where he would be leaving, and just as he pulled onto the road he saw them.

Red and blue lights.

Instantly the young dog panicked, clutch kicking the car and peeling out, accelerating away from the police cruiser that was following him. "Fuck, I should've left sooner!" he yelled as he shifted to second gear, chirping the tires a bit as he kept going, letting off of the gas for a moment as he took a corner, ripping the steering wheel hard to the left and then countersteering back to the right while flooring it, going into a smooth drift as the cop lights behind him disappeared for a moment, but reappeared a few seconds later as he sped down the streets.

He knew that he wasn't getting away this time. Surely that cop had already called for backup and they would be joining the chase soon. But he kept going; something was telling him that he was going to get away, that he was going to make it home. But he knew in the back of his mind that it wouldn't do him any good. The cops knew where he lived, they knew his plate numbers. With all of that, they could find him easily enough. He took another corner in a drift, his car's motor absolutely screaming as he smashed it off redline in the drift, speeding away, but still not evading the cop behind him.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Rudy thought to himself as he threw his car into a higher gear, pulling away from the police cruiser a bit. "There's no way I'm gonna be able to get away from these fuckers, they've gotta have a fuckin-" "Holy shit!!" Rudy's thoughts were interrupted by his own speech as another police car narrowly missed him as it barreled past him while going through an intersection. He saw it stop nearly on a dime and pull back around, joining the first cruiser in pursuit of him. "Fucking shit!" The chase continued, Rudy's skills behind the wheel really showing now as he sped through the city, engine roaring, turbocharger spooling to its maximum, the vehicle hitting nearly 100 miles per hour now.

The young canine slowed his car down a bit as he thought he was losing the police behind him, letting off the throttle and looking over his shoulder as he downshifted. He breathed a sigh of relief and drifted around another corner, going slower now but still hitting a pretty high speed of about 60 now. Unfortunately for the dog, what awaited him around the corner was a nasty surprise.

The roadblock seemed to appear out of nowhere, and Rudy had little time to react. He slammed his foot down on the brake pedal and ripped the steering wheel all the way to the left, the car pulling in that direction as he also ripped his E-brake all the way up, but he was too late. The car smashed into the police SUV's that were blocking the road, coming to a complete stop almost instantly, Rudy being jolted about in his seat but his five point harnessing seatbelt kept him relatively in place. The car was still running, but he knew it was futile to even try and run anymore; he could hear fluids pouring out of the engine bay and splashing onto the ground. He heard footsteps running up to the door of the car and before the flashlight was even pointed at him his hands were in the air, off the steering wheel, his facial expression a mix of anger and sadness. He undid the harnesses that strapped him into the car and let the officer open the door of his car, stepping out on his own accord and letting the officer put him in handcuffs; he knew resisting was futile. It would just land him in more trouble than he already was in. He knew he was being briefed on his rights but he didn't care. He was too focused on the fact that he'd failed to get away, and now he was being arrested. He was forcefully pushed into the back of a police cruiser, bumping his head on the top of the door frame. The pain didn't even register. He felt the vehicle start to move and could hear the two cops in the front talking to him, asking him questions, but he remained silent, unmoving.

"Hey, kid?" Rudy finally comprehended, looking up from the floor of the car. "What, you get a concussion or some shit from hitting that roadblock? You need medical attention?"

"...No," was the only thing the canine said in response.

"You sure?" the officer asked. "You look really out of it, and we have to give you medical attention if you ask for it or need it."

"I don't need anything," Rudy said. "Just... do whatever it is you do. I don't give a fuck."

"...Oookay," the cop responded, shrugging a bit. The drive continued in silence. Rudy hung his head back down towards the floor, a single tear trailing from his eye, down his muzzle and dripping off onto the floorboards of the car.