Untitled NaNoWriMo Novel (Unfinished/WIP)

Story by Artide on SoFurry

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Unfinished NaNoWriMo Horror Story about anthros who turn feral.


A/N: This was the start of a novel that I was working on for NaNoWriMo that I never finished. I'm uploading a lot of weird bits and ends so I can get feedback and potentially re-visit it in the future.

Untitled NaNoWriMo Novel

Connor was fast. He knew this, and yet as his heart pounded in his ears, the very real fear of not being fast enough was beginning to weigh on him.

He moved through the dense forest bush as fast as his legs could carry him, ignore the wet feel of the rainwashed foliage around him, or the strong smell of water and wood in his nose. He 11sneezed to clear out the smell, but was dismayed with the scent was replaced by the reek of blood, and the stench of wolf. And it was getting stronger.

Connor dared not look behind him for the fear of what he might see. Instead, he focused on the brush ahead of him, making sure that he didn't trip over an impending obstacle. He leapt over fallen trees and between tall pines that blotted out the dying sunlight overhead. His tail lashed behind him, steering him between the narrow passage offered by two trees, and then right when the brush began to get too thick for him to manuever comfortably.

He winced when a wrong turn sent him whipping by a branch that cut along his arm and cheek. The pain stung, but not anymore than he was used to, and certainly not enough to slow him down. He knew he was bleeding, but that knowledge meant very little to him. Adrenaline was making sure he stayed alive. Adrenaline was urging him on even as he heard the raggard snorts and huffs of the beast on his tail.

As Connor moved through the trees, he skidded to a halt as the trees suddenly sloped downward. Ahead of him, he caught sight of a bank that steeped downward towards a pond. Another few feet and Connor would have been flung off the edge.

He pushed himself back into a running position, and rounded around a copse of trees he didn't trust. Instead, he bounded left and finally, ahead of him, he saw the opening through a line of trees. Yellow-red sunlight beamed through it. For the first time in the last few minutes, hope began to rise in the bottom of his chest. He wiped the blood off of his cheek and started to dart for that gap.

Ahead of him the sunlight was suddenly blocked off by a hulking black form. Connor skidded to a halt, and slipped on the wet ground. He scrambled back up and went away from the gap of trees, head through the forest a little deeper. He barely knew the woods, but knew that there was a stream or something nearby that he might be able to lose his scent in, and escape. He craned his ears forward, blocking out the sounds of his own heavy breathing and the snarls not too far behind him. He was looking, searching for the sound of the stream that could potentially hold his escape.

As he bounded forward, he tumbled off the edge of the bank he had tried to avoid. With a strangled cry of surprise, he fell down the wet bank, curling himself into the smallest target possible and narrowly avoided smashing his head against a rock. He landed with a mundane finality, gasping heavily as the wind was knocked out of him.

Around him, he could hear howls and snarls and whimpered in pain. Something was bleeding or twisted, or possibly broken, and as he lay back in the wet earth, he closed his eyes.

***

The sound of an alarm made Connor dart up in his bed. He was panting heavily, sweat making his bed sheets stick to his body uncomfortably. He got out of bed, roaming his paws over his runner-built body, fingers brushing past brown-spotted golden fur. The cheetah sighed as he tried to blink himself into wakefulness. Usually he was a morning person, but nightmares made it hard to feel rested.

He washed out the sweat from his fur in the bathroom, and looked warily into the mirror.

"You've seen better days," he noted to his reflection, rubbing a finger at the bags under his eyes. The cheetah sighed and got dressed, wearing a simple t-shirt and pants outfit. He didn't have much in the ways of clothes, and even these ones were starting to look ratty and worn. Overlooking it for the most part, he opened the door of his room and out into a long corridor.

Others were waking up around this time as well -- at least those who had the morning shift like he did. The cheetah passed others milling about in the sparse daylight, nodding in acknowledgement to those going to bed now or early risers like himself. He milled about for a moment before leaving his building and out into the light gray of early morning.

Outside, Connor let out a jaw-popping yawn and smacked his lips sleepily. He was outside one of the buildings that used to be a college, but was now repurposed into housing. The building was tall and brown, modeled with gothic spires and complete with the ivy snaking its way along the sides. In another life, it would be something impressive, something that he could write his mom and tell her -- look, I'm living in a building like this.

He shook the thought from his head and headed into a building across from him.

This was the armory. Rows of military gear and weapons lined the walls. Connor walked briskly down the rows until he found his own armor and put it on: a helmet, a simple vest, and a few leather pouches. He grabbed a nearby gun and cocked it. Still running. His paws traced over the metal and plastic before he placed it in a holder and grabbed the rest of his supplies.

The cheetah trudged through the grass to the courtyard, he reached a large concrete wall that rose along his entire field of vision. The wall was a standard gray, but because it was built very quickly, inconsistencies dotted the entire structure. Eve as he watched, there were people lined up along the wall, working on fixing the cracks and breaks that were forming. It was an intensive, back breaking job, and Connor was lucky that he wasn't assigned to do any kind of that work.

He walked along the line of the wall for a little bit before reaching a ladder that rose up the length to the top. He scaled the ladder, wincing at the added weight of his armor and the gun pressing insistently to his hip. Once he reached the top he scrambled up and cracking his back, wincing at the sound but enjoying the relief.

Around him, there were others dressed in armor, looking bored and either staring off into the distance, talking amongst each other, or playing card games with each other. They barely looked up with Connor approached, only to wave a paw in acknowledgement or mutter a greeting. One of the group, a gray wolf, stood up from his position and wandered over to the cheetah.

"Hey Connor," said the wolf, reaching out to bump fists with the cheetah.

"Hi James," said Connor. "How was your shift?"

"Ain't nothing going on around here, you know that." said James, rubbing the side of his muzzle as he grinned.

"Doesn't mean that today has to be different," replied Connor. Together they walked over to the edge of the wall and sat down, legs swinging over the edge. Below them, the forest spread out in a web of lush green that spread towards the horizon. Beyond that, mountains rose and eventually faded from sight. The sun barely peaked from between these mountains, bathing the whole area in red-yellow pith-light, the whole forest aglow in the soft diffuse.

"This is beautiful," remarked Connor, eyes sparkling as he took in the sunrise.

"Aye," replied James, smirking his wolf-smirk with a stretched muzzle and shiny eyes. "Two of my favorite sights."

"Two?" Connor asked.

"Well, the sunrise...and a cheetah."

Connor blushed and looked ahead, not daring to look back at the wolf. "You're such a ham," he muttered, obviously pleased with the praise.

"That may be true," said the wolf, "but you love me for it all the same."

"I guess that's true," Connor said. The sun was starting to rise and bathe everything in a brighter, yellow glow. He stood up and looked down at James. "I'm taking over for you now, so why don't you head back to bed and get rested? I'll be there as soon as my shift's over."

"Sounds like a reasonable request," replied James. He stood up as well and leaned in towards the cheetah, smiling before their lips met. Connor closed his eyes and embraced the wolf, sighing happily when they broke apart.

"Something to remember me by," he said, winking. Connor pushed him away and smiled, watching as he said goodbye to the rest of the group and hoisted himself down the ladder. As soon as he was out of earshot, the others looked at Connor, all starting to laugh, holler, and cat call.

"Don't you guys start," snapped Connor, although he was still happy. He watched James head back along the courtyard, taking the same path Connor did back to their bed. When the wolf was finally out of sight, his eyes scanned the rest of the compound.

There were numerous buildings that were in his enclosed area. All of them held that gothic feel, with the high-rise spirals and flying buttresses and all of the other architectural terms that Connor had barely learned about in school. The buildings were pleasing to look at, and some times it was all he did on these long shifts with hardly anything to do. There were about a dozen buildings in total, each housing a different function. Most of them were just housing the large amount of people that lived here, but others were used for everything from hospice care to the lunchall to the armory.

As he watched, people milled about with their daily lives. Everyone had something to do, from maintaining the wall to growing the crops that they ate to guard duty. And sometimes...Connor looked back to the view of the trees and the unknown that lurked there. Sometimes they went into the woods.

There was a scouting mission that was scheduled in a few days that Connor was roped into attending for the mere fact that he was a cheetah. As he complained about that being somewhat racist, he had to admit they had a point in making him attend. He was the fastest in the whole camp, and if something were to go awry he had the best chance to flee from danger.

In another life, he was a track star, well on his way to head to the Olympics.

He shook the thought from his head and continued to stare out among the trees. He sometimes wondered why they had so many posted here, especially when they hadn't seen anything beyond the walls in several months. It was as he was completing this thought that he saw a flicker of movement in the shadows of a large tree.

The cheetah rubbed the corners of his eyes, and looked back at the spot for several minutes. Nothing moved or seemed out of the ordinary. He sat back down and rubbed his eyes some more, cursing that he didn't get enough sleep the night before. Stupid nightmares, he reasoned, making him see things that weren't there.

Eventually he turned back to the group playing cards, and decided to relax. He was in for another long, boring shift, and needed something to keep his mind off of bad sleep and tricks of the light, and thought of his wolf sleeping in his bed.

***

"Connor?!" barked a voice in his ear. The cheetah merped in surprise and looked up at a stern-looking bull terrier eyeing him down. He was wearing the armor they were supplied over a simple gray outfit. Streaks of gray peppered his fur, and wrinkles lined his face, especially around the eyes.

"Yes, Commander?" answered the cheetah, a little irritably. He sat up straighter on the crate he had been leaning on in the armory, staring at nothing in particular. His thoughts were somewhere else, either James on lookout, or something to forget what he had been selected to do.

"I had asked you if you had heard everything, private." the bull terrier stressed almost insultingly. Connor sighed, and nodded in confirmation.

"Yes, I heard everything. If I spot something, I am to immediately alert you. If someone else spots something, I'm to immediately head to their position. If it is a threat, neutralize it. If I cannpt neutralize it, I am to run away as fast as possible."

"You are to retreat," the commander stressed, a bit of spittle flying from his muzzle and landing on Connor's goggles. "Is that clear?"

"Yes," said the cheetah, wiping off his goggles with a paw, looking disdainful. "You know this would be a lot less troubling if I had chosen to head out beyond the borders."

"For once, I agree with you. Maybe then you wouldn't complain so often."

Connor made a sour face. The commander never liked him, ever since he had been drafted into these missions that the bull terrier had been leading. The trouble is, Connor was a terrible soldier. He had good reflexes, but an unsteady trigger finger, and a horrible right hook, but he could run faster than anyone else in the compound. His species were known for being quick runners, and stereotypically that's how he had turned out. Sometimes he wished he was fat and squishy like Tyler, one of the crew that was constantly on lookout.

He looked around him at the others that had been drafted into this crazy mission, spotting a husky with brown and white colors, a tabby in the corner playing with the straps of her armor, a wolf with black fur that looked as bored and uninterested as Connor did, and a red fox that was chatting up a surly tiger. What a crew, thought Connor. He had been on one of these missions before, when something was spotted along the edge of the gate. It turned into a several hour wild goose chase, and had frustrated everyone involved. Especially Connor, who, after his self-preservation, had missed out on a date with James. Dates nowadays usually just consisted of a walk around the compound and a deep, passionate romp in the sack. The cheetah shook his head to distract himself from thoughts like that.

The bull terrier spoke up again, pointing towards a map on the wall behind him.

"This is our mission: we will proceed several meters north of the facility." He produced a pointer and slapped it a few inches north of the map of the compound. "Once we secure that there is zero activity in this range we begin sweeping--" at this, he made a large circle with his pointer around the camp. "--around the perimeter. Then we will enter back through the north gate. Any questions?"

There was a hush over the group. Connor scowled a little. Another perimeter sweep. Why couldn't he be up in the perch, or better yet, asleep? Nobody else had any issues with the commanders plan so they got the rest of their gear and made sure everything was in working order. Connor made sure his gun was full of ammo and stopped down at a knife. He took it and felt along the edge, confident it was sharp, and placed it in a holster in his boot. Hopefully he would never need it.

They met up at the north gate. Connor knew that a few dozen feet above him, James sat watching over the wall. Probably playing cards with Tyler and the rest of them. The cheetah sighed. Lucky...

The rest of the crew met up at the gate, the commander making sure everyone was there. When he was sastisfied, he turned to Connor. "Son, you're taking point." Connor blanched a little at this.

"Sir...I...."

"Did I fucking stutter?" he asked.

"Jesus..." Connor muttered. "It's not like I have a choice, now do I?" The commander said nothing in response, and Connor knew he was right. While he hated it, it made sense that the person who can run the fastest would be the first to encounter any issues.

The gates were something that were built a lot more sturdier than the wall. While the concrete needed heavy maintenance almost every single day, the heavy iron gate required nothing of the sort, but were rarely used often. An aging tabby near the top of the wall bellowed something and the heavy clinking of a chain started to sound in the space. The iron gate started to rise higher and higher until it opened with a final thundering boom. The scout party, with Connor at the helm, moved forward into the unknown.

As much as the cheetah kept trying to convince himself that this was just troublesome, he couldn't stop the nervous twitching of his tail, nor the slight tremble of his fingers as he fingered the rifle he had gotten from the armory. There was no telling what was in this woods. Or, he reminded himself, who.

They walked forward along the path towards the dark forest. Around them, there were no sounds. Connor craned his ears forward, his toupe ears desperate to catch something, anything, in order to wash out the sounds of his blood thundering in his ears, or the slow rise and fall of not only his own breath, but that of his companions around him.

They moved in a V formation, with Connor at the point. Each member of the troop, save for the commander seemed just as nervous as Connor. The bull terrier had been military, fought in some wars, and was much more wary than nervous. He knew the pains of war, and of murder, and scouting was nothing new to him. As much as Connor disliked him, and as sure he was that the feeling was mutual, he was glad that in a time like this, he had someone experienced on his side.

They moved slowly through the trees, the forest started to grow denser and denser. Connor smelt the wood and must of the forest as he approached forward. It was a scent that he had been familiar with growing up, but now it seemed almost alien to him. Like a phantom, as if it were a scent from someone else's past, someone else's life, and not his own.

They moved slowly through the underbrush, making sure to be as quiet as possible. They had been walking for about an hour or so when the commander whispered a hushed "halt!" and they stopped immediately. Connor breathed a sigh of relief and loosened his grip on his rifle. The others seemed equally relieved, the fox even taking a seat on a large rock nearby.

The commander was fiddling with a map that he had brought with them, scribbling on it for a few minutes before looking up at the party.

"Alright," he said quietly. "Now we head due east."

The party took off in that direction. Connor stopped walking and looked back, relieved that they didn't have to go any deeper. As he did he gasped, as in the gap between the woods, in the darkness, were a gleaming pair of red eyes. He was about to yelp in surprise but before he did, the gleaming was gone. It was no mystery that something was in these woods. They had all seen it. They all knew why they were here. Why they were living in a converted college with hastily built walls. Why most of them no longer had a family.

"Sir," Connor hissed. "I thought I saw something, on our six." The bull terrier immediately turned around towards the spot they had rested for a moment, heading swiftly towards the area.

"What did you see?" he asked, his voice brief and clipped. Connor was partly relieved and terrified to hear some of his own fear relayed in that question.

"Maybe nothing...but I thought I saw a pair of red eyes."

At this, the other party members looked equally nervous, each of them fiddled with their weapons in a way. The black wolf, who was already hard to see in the dense forest, raised his rifle up to his face to see out of the scope.

"Nothing's showing on infared," he reported.

"It was probably nothing," Connor said.

The bull terrier stood still, glaring into the darkness between the trees before conceding.

"Alright, let's head forward. Just be extra careful."

As he said this, the large hulking form of a dark-furred beast sprung out from the darkness and swiped at the husky, who felt down screaming. The wolf quickly raised his rifle and sent off several shots that pierced the hide of the beast. With a yelp of pain it leapt back and howled savagely. Connor got a good look at it. It had the look of any other wolf he had seen, except it walked on all fours. Its fur was matted and dirty, streams of blood fell from its mouth along with specks of foam and spittle. This thing was monstrous and rabid.

The wolf fired a few more shots into the beast before it leapt back into the darkness.

The husky lay on the ground, goaning in pain as he clutched his arm. The beast's claws had dug deep and rendered the flesh apart through his armor. It was gruesome and twisted. The fox quickly brought out some bandages and wrapped the husky's arm.

"Alright, troops," said the commander, eyes craning into the darkness to see if he could spot anyone else. "We fall back, now." Without any complaint from anyone else they headed south through the forest until it opened back up again and the gates were in view.

"Open the gates!" bellowed the bull terrier, and the gates opened slowly.

"Get him into the infirmary," said the commander to the fox and wolf, who both nodded and hoisted the husky up. The bull terrier turned to Connor.

"As much as I hate to admit this... good work, private."

"Thank you," said Connor. He was not looking at the bull terrier, but back through the gaps in the gate, towards the woods, towards that horrible monster and what else lurked in the dark.

***

Connor always hated the infirmary. It was too clean and clinical and there was a smell he could not get out of his nose no matter how hard he sneezed. That...clinical smell, like a combination of drugs and lysol overmasking the scent of sickness and death. Connor picked at his claws as he sat in an uncomfortable chair lined against the wall. His tail was restless, tucked partially underneath him as he sat, twitching this way and that in his anxiety.

His eyes flickered from a horrible motivational poster framed in between two health information poster. One urging everyone to be vacinnated, and the other an info pamphlet on the common cold. Illnesses that were the last of his worries.

His seat was in a small waiting room outside of a crowded infirmary. There were other chairs around him, equally as uncomfortable, and some of them filled -- a brown bear he had only seen in passing was picking at his claws at much the same way Connor had been. The bear flicked his gaze toward the cheetah and snorted, looking elsewhere but still playing with his claws.

The fox from his troop -- whose name Connor knew but could not remember -- was a few seats down from him, thumbing through a magazine that depicted people from another life. Connor would have gone over to talk to him, but thought better of it and remained in his seat. Nothing could be heard in the room save for the clicking of the brown bear's claws and the flipping of pages from the fox's magazine. The silence was eerie, almost unnatural, before the door opposite them opened a slender doe wearing a blue jacket, sweatpants, and running shoes appeared through the door.

"Mr. --oh," Connor stood up before she had started talking. He knew he was next -- he had been waiting for quite some time and he would be damned if the people that came after him got helped before. The doe looked down at her chart and blinked.

"You're here for your post-mission checkup?" she asked. She wore a "Hello My Name Is" sticker on her chest that had "Beth" scribbled on it in vaguely feminine handwriting. Connor nodded, ears folded back a little. The doe said nothing but motioned for him to follow, and they disappeared through the door together, leaving the fox and bear behind.

The hallway had a very hospital feel to it -- white washed walls with glass viewing panels. This place had been a training center for medical students before being converted into an actual hospital of sorts. Most of the rooms around Connor were empty with the blinds opened, but one room was closed and the blinds drawn. From behind it, Connor could hear yelling. He stopped for a second to see if he could make out the voices. They were muffled and hard to hear.

Beth had noticed he had stopped walking and turned back for him. "Come on," she said, ushering him past the door. One they reached the end of the hallway she turned right into a second corridor that mirrored the first, and led him into one of the rooms.

"Alright," Beth said, taking a clipboard from a tray by the door and scribbling some information down. "It's been a few days since you had went past the gate. Do you have any unusual symptoms?"

Connor shook his head. None besides the nightmares, he thought, with a touch of dry humor.

"No swelling, itching, burning sensations anywhere?" Connor shook his head. This line of questions always made him uncomfortable. He understood that they were necessary, and even as he shook his head in response to every question, he couldn't shake the thought of what would happen if said yes to any of these things. It's not like this place could help him, he thought. And he knew that if something had come up, that this facility wasn't really here to help me, but rather detain him and quarantine him.

"Any trouble sleeping?" Beth asked. Connor paused for a moment.

"No more than usual." Beth looked at him in sympathy. She made a few notes on her clipboard before moving to the physical tests -- eye checks, ear checks, things that the doctor had no time and patience for. There were only a handful of doctors to the large population that lived here, and most of them had to deal with serious cases. Especially in a tight-knit group like this, if one person got sick, it meant trouble for everyone else.

When it got time for the blood tests, Connor froze up. He hated needles. Beth sensed his discomfort and held the needle above the point where she needed to stab. With her other finger she snapped in the air near his ear. This caused him to whip his head in surprise and stare at her fingers while the needle shoved in. It was a little crude, but altogether effective method of distracting Connor.

"You're pretty good at this," the cheetah admitted. Having his blood drawn always made him a little woozy. He tried not to look at his arm or the blood draining out of it, or else he knew he would throw up.

She smirked. "I used to be a medical student here. I was a few months away from graduating."

Connor nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be," she said. "I'm still doing things I would have if I graduated...still helping people that need it."

"Well, I don't think I need it," replied the cheetah.

"It doesn't hurt to find out," said Beth, capping the capsule of blood and throwing the needle in the trash.

"Tell that to my anxiety...and my arm," complained the cheetah, rubbing at his sore arm. Beth smiled and grabbed her clipboard. Unfortunately I'm gonna have to run your blood test by myself, and it'll take a couple of hours. Are you fine running back into the lobby while I run it?"

"I think so," Connor said, eager to get out of the room. Beth nodded and left him there to collect his things and head back into the waiting room.

As he walked, he hoped that he was headed in the right direction. The hallways blended together in a maze. He chanced a left and saw the entrance to the waiting room ahead of him. As he headed down, the room that he had heard shouting in was open. Curiosity compelled him to walk towards it. There was no one nearby. The cheetah stuck his head into the room.

What he saw horrified him.

The husky, the one that had gotten attacked back in the woods, lay on the bed. Thick leather straps held him in place. Except, Connor noticed, something was wrong. His legs bent at weird angles, his fur was missing in places. His eyes were blank, searching without seeing the contours of the room. His muzzle hung open wide and his teeth were sharper than an average husky. Every so often he would click his jaws in what Connor knew was hunger. The scent of blood permeated the room. Connor knew what this was, and he couldn't help but utter a cry of sorrow. The husky -- or what had been the husky -- snapped up at this and thrashed in his bed, pulling against the straps. He snarled savagely in the direction of the cheetah, razor-sharp claws scrambling in the air.

Connor backed away numbly, his eyes wide with shock. Even as he backed away he heard snapping of bones and muscle as the husky's body contorted and convulsed, lengthening in places and shortening in others. The husky howled in pain and hunger as he thrashed against his restraints. The cheetah backed up more before he was knocked into by a rushing tiger wearing a white coat. Another doctor followed him in, closing the door behind him.

Connor kept backing up until he hit the back of the hallway, and slid down it partway. The blank face, unseeing except for prey, was a face he was familiar with. The face everyone at this camp was familiar with. The feral, gnashing teeth and foaming maw would haunt everyone's dreams for the rest of their lives.

Connor curled up into a ball and rocked himself, trying not to relive memories that were best forgotten. For the first time in a while, tears beaded in his eyes and he wept, alone on the cold floor of the hospital ward.

On the other side of the door, a gunshot rang out.

***

Connor watched as the smoke rose lazily from the cigarette between James' fingers. The wolf twirled the cigarette between his fingers before blowing a sigh of relief as well as some smoke.

Cigarettes were hard to come by here, no one grew tobacco so it was impossible to make more. There was still a sizable stash of them here brought over with supplies, but they were guarded and rationed carefully. Connor tried to get one whenever he could for the wolf, it was his little gesture of affection that he knew went apprecicated.

He shivered in the cold air. he could see his breath coming out in short gasps around him, the cooler air making it look like he was blowing his own smoke clouds.

It wasn't very often that he had landed a shift with James, and it was less-often that he was on such a quiet shift. They were doing a graveyard shift with the wolf in Connor's troop and an orange tabby Connor had never met before.

No one was saying a word. James and Connor shared meaningful looks towards each other every so often, and the wolf and cat were sitting on opposite corners. The black wolf tok his job very seriously and was looking out to the forest through a pair of night vision goggles from the armory. Connor watched him with interest as he placed the goggles to his face, scanned for what felt like forever, moving slowly along the horizon in tight sweeps before sighing in disappointment and putting the goggles down. He would repeat this cycle every few minutes. Connor wondered if he really wanted to find something. He didn't understand why.

The tabby cat was doing nothing in particular, picking att a loose thread in his shift and not paying tention to much else. Connor couldn't blame him, there wasn't much in the ways of entertainment on shifts like this, especially graveyard ones. Nothing was going to be awake at this time, let alone active. He was finshing this thought when the black wolf barked in surprise and then cleared his throught.

"Got something movi g here. One o'clock."

James, Connor, and the tabby looked up in surprise. They each groped for the night vision goggles that they were supplied and held it to their eyes. In the bright green layout of the screen, they watched the point the wolf had pointed out. A few meters north of the compound there was a rustling in the trees. Connor shivered, remembering his recent foray into the trees and his experiences there.

They waited with bated breath as the rustling continued, and then from the brush a red furred snout appeared, followed slowly by the body of what Connor could only say was a red fox. Seeing these creatures always made him feel like what he was saying was wrong. Their feet bent at unnatural angles, their legs were too skinny to support their weight, and their arms looked brittle. They stood on four feet. The fox was sniffing around the ground and then looked directly up at the group, eyes glinting with what Connor could only describe as malice. For a moment he wondered if the fox could see them, but it was much more likely that it could smell them. The thought made goosebumps form under his fur.

The group watched the fox mill about for a moment. Usually if they spooted something, it would poke around for a little bit and then disappear in a different direction once it understood that its next meal wouldn't be here. This time, however, the re fox stood in place, perfectly still, as it stared up at the group, and they stared back.

After a moment of its unnatural gaze, Connor had to place his goggles down.

"I should call this in," he said, obviously shaken. James went to reach for him, to comfort him, but Connor didn't want to be touched now. He wanted to get far away and put as many barriers as he could from that beast below.

The cheetah fumbled for the radio he kept clasped to the strap on his chest.

"Base, this is North Sentry," he intoned into the walkie. North Sentry, a rather generic name given to the north post. There were four in total, North, South, East, and West. Sometimes he worked in one of the other posts, but usually he was in the North one.

"North Sentry, this is Base. What seems to be the issue?" came the static-laced reply.

"Reporting activity as of 1:13 AM. Down below, one was spotted."

"Copy that, we will be sending someone to confirm," came the reply, and then they were silent.

Connor sighed and reached for a canteen by the spot he was sitting at. He took a swig and then laid it down when he heard James' voice, the wolf usually steady voice laced with worry.

"Connor," he said urgently.

"What?" asked Connor, moving over to the wolf. He raised his goggles to where the fox had been staring at them, and all of a sudden understand James' panic.

There were now two foxes.

***

"I don't get it," said the orange tabby. Connor thought his name was Steven. Or possibly Larry. Or maybe Ted. "Why are they just standing there?"

"I don't know," the black wolf admitted. "Not much is known about them."

Connor nodded. When the attacks started, everyone laughed it off as a lame zombie joke. Everyone had seen the countless zombie movies and everyone joked about having a plan when the apocalypse stuck. Connor, he was gonna run as fast away as possible and find shelter.

It's one thing to joke about the end of the world, it's another to experience it.

"What I don't get," said James, speaking up for the first time in a while. "Is that they're supposed to be mindless, right? Why are they not attacking each other?"

"Maybe they're not as mindless as we like to think," said the black wolf.

"I don't like that idea," said the tabby. "I liked them much better when they were the monsters under the bed but something far away outside of the walls."

"We all did," Connor said quietly. Everyone remembered the day that they were ushered into this tiny space by a panicked and dwindling government. Everyone remembered the death of their family.

James' voice broke Connor's reverie as he pointed back into the forest.

"We got another one," he said grimly.

Connor looked back through his goggles to see the foilage near the foxes shift and shake more, and from its depths stepped a buck, quadrapedal and with lifeless, blank eyes. He too looked straight at Connor. The foxes had never broken their gaze.

"What is going on?" asked the tabby. Even as he spoke, a third fox appeared. Each of these feral animals appeared ravenous and each were foaming, dribbling spittle on the ground below, but as they panted in hunger and insanity, they still stared silently up at the group.

Connor nestled into James, the sight making him uneasy and frightened.

"Where is our backup?" wondered the black wolf, fiddling with his radio. He spoke into it, asking for the base command.

"Hello? Is anynoe there?" he asked. There was nothing but static for a few minutes before a rushed anaswer responded to them.

"Yes, North Sentry, if this is about those sightings, all the other lookouts have spotted something similar."

Connor's blood ran cold.

"Is this an organized attack or something?" he asked. The black wolf shrugged and repeated the question into the radio, the base took a minute, then responded.

"We're not sure if they re organized," was the response. "We're not sure of much about them," they admitted.

"What's the plan?" the black wolg asked, very seriously.

"Standby," came the response, and the line went dead. The wolf angrily ripped the radio off of his vest and threw it on the ground. It bounced and rolled a few feet away.

"What's going on?" he asked no one in particular.

"I don't know," James said, and no one else had anything useful to say. Instead they watched as the three foxes and buck stared back silently. It was a chance for them to get to see the beasts uninterrupted, which hadn't really been something they could do during the initial mass hysteria of their arrival.

Connor looked away from them and back towards the compound. Lights were on all over the place, and he could see the scrambling of figured illuminated in the moonlight. It seemed everyone was in full panic mode with this new development. Before, there were only one or two of these creatures milling about. Everyone knew that they were out there, somewhere, in the darkness.Beyond the walls they maintained and guarded and looked over every day. But no one expected this.

Over the course of the next hour, more and more of these creatures came out of the forest. Among the foxes, more deer, wolves, a tiger, a leopard...a list of animals that looked like monstrous, rabid versions of the more civilized people. Connor watched the compound more intently, it was less upsetting than the other side of the wall, where these creatures were lined up and all staring at one point. They definitely knew that the group was there.

Connor's only peace of mind was that he knew they couldn't breach the wall, and that people were safe. Still, he was more than worried. He was frightened, and James could sense it. There was nothing, he knew, that the wolf could say to make him feel bette.r All they had to do was wait.

Besides the appearance of these monsters, everything else was absurdly quiet, but COnnor knew the silence was a calm before the storm. He felt nervous and electrified, as if his body was gearing for something that his brain wasn't quite aware of. And then it sparked. He was getting ready for a fight. It only made sense, with the creatures below lining up. They were challanging this place.

"I think we should get down," Connor said suddenly. James, the wolf, and the cat looked up at him in surprise.

"Why? Don't we have the advantage up here?" the cat asked, but the black wolf shook his head.

"We could get a few lucky shots off from up here, but we'd run out of ammo before they ran out of bodies. Connor's right...we should go check in with home base and see if everyone's okay.Get our new orders."

They got their stuff and slid down the ladder. As soon as Connor's feet touched the ground a mighty quake rattled him, and he fell to his knees. There was a noise, the sound of a heavy object meeting a heavier object, and the resulting boom was someething he did not expect.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I don't know," said James. He looked back at the wall and shook his head.

The boom sounded again.

Suddenly along the wall, a thin crack appeared through the new layer of plaster added that day. It spread and branched out, starting very small and then running along the height of it.

"We need to get inside," James said suddenly, very seriously. Connor nodded and together they took off toward the armory, hoping to find some shelter.

From behind them, the cracks started to deepen. Another boom rang out through the night.

***

Connor grumbled as he crawled out of bed. The cheetah rubbed at himself, smoothing at his yellow and black fur and rubbing the sleep away. He had only gotten a couple of hours of sleep last night, most of which he blamed the act that a new video game had come out the night before and he couldn't help but be awake to play it. It was the game's fault.

He fumbled through his morning routine, groping blindly for the blinders before drawing then open. Outside was overcast and muggy, a perfect day. Connor's ears folded backward. If there was anything he hated more than anything, it was rain. It was too noisy and made his fur damp and heavy and was impossible to dry off.

Well, he thought, at least I don't have much to do today.

This was the day that Connor discovered the world had ended.

The cheetah turned on his phone, running a gentle claw over the screen's surface. As it booted up he checked out his fangs and his face in the reflection. No service, he noted the X on the top of the display. That was odd...he paid his bill just last week, he should have service. Shrugging, he placed his phone into the pocket of his jeans and threw on a hoody.

***

"Do you hate me?" Connor asked in a small voice. He refused to look James in the eye for the fear of what he might find on the wolf's face. Contempt, anger, despise, disappointment?...it was too much for him to even think about, let alone experience.

"Hate you?" James repeated. "For what?" He sounded confused.

"For running away," said the cheetah. "For not staying and fighting and trying to help people."

The wolf was silent for a while. Each second weighed heavily on the cheetah's chest; he was beginning to feel a coldness claw at his stomach. He unconsciously raised a paw to it.

"No," said James, finally. This forced the cheetah to look at him. Instead of disappointment or anger, he just seemed lost in thought. "Everyone has a fight or flight response," he said. "Yours is just weighed to flight. As much as I care for the people here, and how I wanted to protect them...you are my priority."

"I don't understand why," Connor grumbled. "I'm just good at running away."

"Ah," said the wolf, with that snarky lupine grin stretched across his muzzle. "But I would follow you wherever you ran."

Connor blushed and slid his paw into the wolf's larger one. Their fingers entwined. In this time of panic, he was glad that he still had someone to love him.

***

"What's going on?" the orange tabby cried out. They were huddled in the armor, pressed next to a set of old lockers that once belonged to the swim team's locker room. The whole place reeked of chlorine and fear. Other people who had heard the commotion and knew better than the risk being outside had come in with them, and they sealed off the area by moving a bench next to the doors and making sure the ones that could lock were locked. The noise outside was horrible:

the sound of roars and cries rang out through the night. Everyone knew what was happening -- it called back to a time none of them wanted to remember, the time when they had all been ushered out of their own lives and into this one.

Connor was squeezed against James, but none of them could talk. The cheetah couldn't find the words in his own throat, he didn't know what he could voice that would make things better or make more sense. James was the same way, and everyone in the armory held their breath, not wanting to make a sound that could attract any attention to where they are.

They were mostly silent. Connor's heart was racing. There was a loud metallic clang and a crash, and the rest of them looked over to a small fox, who couldn't have been more than 12, look horrified as a rack of guns fell crashing to the floor. None of them were loaded, but the sound echoed throughout the place. The silence that followed was even quieter and deadening.

Suddenly the sound of scratching could be heard on the other side of the doors that lead outside. It was slow, more curious than determined, as if whatever was scratching was just casually checking out the room. They could hear grunts and sniffs. In the window of the door that could barely make out the outside. A large orange tiger appeared in the vision, pressing a glassy eye to the window. It roved over them, and Connor knew that it could see them all huddled against the concrete and each other. So did the rest of them.

The tiger roared and suddenly the claws and taps against the door didn't seem so random or exploratory. He was definitely trying to get in.

Everyone huddled close together, afraid of what would happen. James hugged Connor closely. No one was prepared for this. With a loud scraping noise, the door was knocked off their hinges and the tiger leapt into the room. Under the terror, Connor was grudgingly impressed that it was still as graceful as a feline even when hobbling on all fours.

The tiger moved towards the closest person, growling loudly. With each step it took, it left behind a bloody pawprint. This is how we die, Connor thought, until he heard a gunshot echo in the room behind them. The tiger jumped back and hissed in pain. Connor could see the bullet wound in its shoulder, bubbling out thick blood onto the ground below. This only shook the tiger for a few moments before it got back up and changed its target to the wolf. It took a step before he raised his rifle back up and fired another shot into its leg. The tiger's face twisted in pain.

It did not get a chance to recover this time as the next bullet passed right before its eyes. With another howl of surprise, the tiger slumped down and twitched its body before flopping down in a mundane finality. The black wolf did not lower his weapon, but instead came closer, still locked on to the tiger. He moved closer, slowly, until he was standing at the tiger's feet. Without waiting, the wolf fired too more shots into its body, and was satisfied when no noise sounded from the creature.

Connor looked in awe at the wolf.

"So they can be killed," said James. He stood up and looked at the black wolf.

"Seems that way," he responded. The others in the room were silent.

"Look," James said to the others huddled around them. "If you want to live, you are going to have to fight. We are in the best place to defend ourselves, but you're going to have to pick up a weapon if you want to survive. If for some reason you can't fire a gun, stick to someone who can."

Connor looked down at the gun in his hands. He had never actually shot anyone before. Could he? Would he be able to shoot? Shoot to kill? He took a step back and lowered the gun. James was helping the preteen fox from earlier load his weapon and showing him how to use it when he looked over at the cheetah and frowned.

"Everything alright?" he asked. The cheetah frowned, moving over to the bench of the locker room and sat on it, sighing wearily.

"I don't know if I can do this," he said. The wolf moved from the fox and draped his arms over the cheetah. "I don't know if I can pull the trigger." James thought for a moment.

"You remember when these things first appeared? Everyone lost someone. Families were ripped apart. Tons of people died. I think about that every day. I think about Aly constantly." Connor said nothing but looked down at the gun in his paws. Aly was James' sister, and he had watched her be torn apart. "I don't want anything like that to happen again, to anyone."

"You're right," said Connor. "But I'm not the hero in some big epic. I'm good at running away. That's what I'm good for."

"Running away is fine too," said James gently. "As long as you have the strength to carry the things you cherish as you run." Connor looked up at the wolf, surprised by the sudden depth and insight. James offered him a small smile, and it warmed the cheetah's heart for a moment before fear gripped it again.

The black wolf was stationed at the entrance to the locker rooms, the same ones that the tiger had broken open. So far, he could not see anyone in the darkness, and nothing had come to approach them. Once everyone was ready they gathered at the door. Connor was still fidgeting with the gun at his side, but took a deep breath. James was right, he liked living here and needed to protect it, no matter how frightened he was.

"Where do we go?" asked the young fox.

"We need to head to the nearest building. See how many people we can save and then get out of here."

"Out of here?" asked James, frowning. "We can't just kill everything and rebuild the walls?" The black wolf turned around to James.

"We built those walls at the very beginning of the outbreak, when there still wasn't very many of these things and it was a relatively hidden area. The infection got in, and it came with several dozen -- probably hundred -- friends. Even if we had enough ammo, which we don't, do you really think this place is salvageable?"

"I'm willing to try," James said fiercely. "I'm not going to let these people die without fighting with everything I've got."

"What is your plan, then," the black wolf asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Well," James said, uncertain. Connor watched the back and forth but didn't know who to side with. On one hand, it killed him that everything they built was crashing down around him, but he had to admit that the black wolf had a point. There was no use saving something that was already destroyed.

"I thought so," the black wolf said. "I'm getting out of here, and finding a place better fortified than this."

"I would have thought that someone like you wasn't someone that ran away," James challanged. The black wolf growled under his breath, but stopped himself.

"Maybe not," he replied. "But I intend to stay alive. If I can save someone, great, but I come first and foremost."

James said nothing, but cocked his gun and muttered that they should leave. Together the group moved towards the dormitory. In the distance, Connor could see the ruins of the wall, the piled rubble almost like a physical ache to him. If he had been up there when it came down, he'd be dead. There probably were scouts still on it when it collapsed. He shivered. How awful...

The build was quiet. There were no sounds from of the feral creatures nor sentient life at all. Connor was worried at the lack of sound. Shouldn't there be something? Anything at all? He voiced his concerns to the rest of them, and they nodded in agreement, promising to move more slowly and cautiously. The black wolf took the helm while James took the rear, making sure that nothing snuck up on them.

The power was out. The generators that had been powering the building since its conversion were shut off, possibly destroyed in the chaos. Connor had managed to find a working flashlight and waved it around the area, the thin beam of the torch the only light they had to go by.

They moved past the rooms. It seemed like everyone was gone. Or worse, Connor thought, probably carried away into the woods.

Everyone else thought it was weeird that they had not encocuntered anyone since they entered the dorm. No one had a good answer, but they kept moving forward all the same. Perhaps there was something hiding in a bedroom.

They came to the first door past the lobby. It was locked. James approached it first, rapping on the chipped wood with a knuckle. "Is anyone in there?" he asked. There was no reply. He gave it a minute and tried again. "We won't hurt you."

After there wass slence for so long, James decided to move back and then lunge at the door with a well timed kick. The door buckled inward before the wood snapped., sending splinters flying everywhere. The party toook a step back and looked around nervously to see if any of the feral creatures on the grounds were alerted, but there was nothing. Silence.

The room was too small for everyone to move through, so James and Connor decided to head in. The room was sparsely decorated, just like everyone elses. There were two cots in the room that had some random blankets, three or four pairs of clothes hanging in the open closet, but apart from that, they had nothing else to find here. The bathroom was still a ways down the hall.

On a hunch, Connor decided to check under the bed. He moved closer as slowly and as quietly as he could, making sure not to startle anyone that might possible be hiding under there. He lowered his paw, grasped the skirt of the bed, and then lifted it up.

There was nothing.

Disappointed, he lowered the skirt again and shook his head to James.

They checked the next few dorm rooms in much the same way, dismayed when their exploration led to nothing but silence. It was almost eerie.

The last room at the end of the hallway was the dorm bathroom. They opened the door slowly, and gasped at the scenery.

Blood sprayed all over the walls, going so high as to splatter against the ceiling. It almost looked like somebody exploded and painted everywhere. The fox gagged and turned around to throw up at the smell and sight.

The party walked into the bathroom and looked around. Shower curtains were torn apart and tattered. Amongst the tatters of the shower cutain and the blood strained walls hunched a small female squirrel, no older than the fox that they had in their midsts. COnnor knelt down and placed a paw on her shoulder and she yelped in surprise, inching back along the gore-slicened tiles and as far into the stalll as she could. Her brown fur was damp with fresh blood and her eeyes were wide and afraid. Connor tried to smile reassuringly.

"We aren't going to hurt you," je promised. "Honest." When she didn't respond, he backed up and frowned at James.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked.

"She's in shock," James said. "She must have seen what went on down here."

The black wolf clicked his tongue impatiently. "The same might happen again soon if we don't hurry up and get her out of here."

"Where are we supposed to take her?" asked Connor. The squirrel was fidgeting and toying with her tail, the fur was matted with blood as well. "And look at her," he said. "She's filthy."

"Do they showers still work?" James asked, reaching over to fondle one of the knobs. The squirrel pulled back at his action, and shrunk further against the tiles. After a few slow seconds of trying to show her without words that he really did mean no harm, James turned on the shower head. It sprung to life and water splashed onto the ground below, mixing with the blood and causing red streaks to form on the tile. Connor watched with a twinge of sadness as the blood circled down the drain.

"Alright," said James, turning off the faucet. The water stopped. The squirrel did not move.

"I think," said the fox in the back, recovered from his shock at seeing the room and standing worryingly at the back of the party. "I think we might need to approach her one at a time," he said. "I think she's kinda freaked out, you know? I dunno...maybe I can talk to her." Connor, James, and the black wolf looked at each other and nodded in agreement. They did a quick sweep of the baths to make sure that nothing else was in here before standing in the doorway. There were no other sounds in the room.

The red fox knelt down to the squirrel and held out a paw. The squirrel looked at him. The fox smiled, trying to be as comforting as possible. He's be freaked out too if he was in her situation.

"It's cool," he said, in what he hoped was his comforting voice. "We're not gonna hurt you."

The squirrel took a pause and then looked down at his paw. After a few seconds and another awkward smile from the fox, the squirrel took his paw and stood up shakily, nearly slipping on the blood. Without warning she crushed against him, sobbing uncontrollably. Connor and the rest of them watched from the hallway as the fox tried to help her clean up as best as possible.

The fox came back with the squirrel hugging closely behind him.

"Did you ask her if she could tell us what happened here?" asked the black wolf.

"I tried, but she just kinda shut down again. I think it'll take her a while before she's ready," replied the fox. The black wolf snorted and moved out of the room. Connor rolled his eyes at his gruff response but followed suit with Jason in tow.

***

"Connor! Get down!" James yelled, pushing the cheetah out of the way as a massive tiger came barrelling down the hallway and knocked into the wolf. They struggled for a moment before James and the tiger fell against the banner. The wood buckled and snapped before splintering completely, shards of wood flying everyone. James fell backward, the tiger clamping and clawing at the wolf.

"James!" Connor screamed out, watching as the two entwined bounced off the stairs and crashed onto the floor.

***

"James?" Connor croaked out, feeling the wolf's damp fur. His hands came back red and stained. "James!" he called again. "No no no," he repeated, nonsensical. James did not move, nor did he say anything. Connor pawed desperately at his brownish fur. "James! You bastard! Please!" His tiny hands balled into fists as he angrily hit the wolf's chest. "Don't you dare...don't you dare leave me alone here!" He beat on James' chest for a few more minutes before the wolf below him suddenly coughed, a mouth full of blood splattered on the floor.

"James?" Connor asked happily, looking down at the brown wolf, whose eyes were barely open.

"Hey there sweetheart," said the wolf weakly. Through the tears, the cheetah laughed. James struggled into a sitting position, wincing when his wounds were rubbed against. Fresh blood leaked out of them. He turned to the cheetah, who was still kneeling down next to him. "What happened?" he asked, and then turned down to the body of the fox. "Did you...?"

"I had to," said the cheetah. "He would have killed you."

"Are you..." the wolf struggled to maintain enough energy to focus. "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me you goofball," said the cheetah. "We need to get you to the infirmary. We need bandages."

"I think I'm too banged up," the wolf said. "You'll have to go there without me."

"But..." the cheetah said.

"Don't worry," James replied, struggling through the pain to place a reassuring paw on the cheetah's back. "You can do it, I believe in you."

"But..." the cheetah started. He looked at the condition of James and had to begrudgingly agree: even if they managed to get him mobile, Connor wouldn't be able to support him or move them fast enough.

"I have faith in your speed," said the wolf. "If anyone can outruns these demons, you can."

***

The hospital was dead quiet. Connor's ears folded at the lack of sound. It went against everything he knew. The silence was almost deafening in its intensity and sent shivers up his shine. He surveyed the damage done to the medical ward. Bloodstains coated the walls, the windows, and the doors. The ferals had attacked everything. Vaguely, Connor numbly wondered how many people had died, right here, only hours ago. The smell of blood was fresh, and his feet almost slid on the blood spilt on the floor. It was enough to turn his stomach, empty as it was.

He walked careful around the lobby, making sure not to announce his prescence to anything lurking in the dark. He didn't think that his scent could be told apart from the overwhelming prescece of blood, but these creatures spent so much time bathd in it that they might be able to tell the difference. He didn't want to find out.

He moved down the hallway, looking for the nearest supply closet so that he could get what he came there for and then leave immediately. Each step echoed horribly around him, surely much louder than what they had to be. He was hyper sensitive to everything, to each footfall, to each shuffle his shoes made on the ground or each yelp of surprise as he slid in a puddle of blood. This was agonizing moving down the hallway, moving anywhere, actually.

***

Connor pushed Beth back down. She slipped with a gasp of surprise. The doe opened her mouth to complain when Connor placed a paw around her muzzle and held it shut. Her eyes widened and she glared at the cheetah, but he held a finger to his lips and suddenly she understood and nodded. He let her muzzle go and they crouched beneath the glass.

They sat there hushed for quite some time. Just outside they could hear the snuffling of the dog in the hallway, scratching and sniffing around. Connor could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. Beth looked just as horrified as him, and he found that he could hear her own heartbeat jackhammering. His eyes grew wider. If he could hear her heartbeat, then...

Suddenly the dog snarled and clawed at the window. Each swipe of its paws weighed heavily on the glass. Cracks started to form in the material, spider webbing along the frame. Beth and Connor got up and backed against the wall.

"What do we do?" Beth asked, fear in her voice. Connor shook his head, looking around for anything that might help. In the room, there was only a bed, and some medical equipment around.

In front of them, the glass was cracking more.

"Scalpel!" said Beth suddenly, turning towards one of the drawers in the room and fished out a small metal scalpel. Connor frowned.

"Will that be enough?" he asked. Beth shook her head.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know if the anatomy of these beasts is the same as ours. It could be I go for the jugular and miss."

"There's no time to decide," said Connor, as the glass buckled under the weight of the dog and it leapt through the space between the broken shards of glass.

Beth screamed in surprise and shrunk back against the cabinets as plexiglass showered the room. Connor shrank back to make himself as little a target as possible so the beast would go after Beth instead.

The dog sniffed and growled, opening its mouth in hunger. Rivulets of spit and foam splattered over the floor. Beth aimed at where she thought its throat would be and lunged forward, bringing the scalpel up in a neat arc. The dog spluttered and stepped back, rearing back and raking its claws at Beth. The doe stumbled down quick enough for the claws to only scratch the material of her coat.

Connor looked at the dog and Beth, frozen. If she died, he would be next. And worse, she wouldn't be able to help James.

As the dog readied another swipe, Connor jumped and grabbed a large chunk of glass from where it had fallen on the ground. He clutched it in his paw, wincing as the jagged edge cut into him. His hand shook as he stood up and ran towards the dog. With a strangled cry that he was surprise to hear bellowing from himself, he leapt and swung his arm down, embedding the shard of glass into the feral's skull. With a surprise yelp of pain, the dog turned around, but suddenly lost its balance and fell over, bringing Connor with it. It fell to the ground, dead.

Beth watched with wide eyes. Connor rolled up and looked down at the feral dog. He was surprised at his own actions.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice seemed smaller to him.

Beth nodded.

"Good," he offered a paw and she grabbed it gratefully, but winced when she noticed blood.

"Here," she said. "Let me clean you up."

***

They walked along the beach in silence for a little bit. The smell of salt water still plugging up his senses.

"The sunset looks gorgeous," commented Connor, watching the yellow and red hues shine over the water. James grunted in agreement.