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"...and then w-when I came out he was just sitting there, t-talking to himself. There is no w-way he can't at least suspect something. He's g-got to know."

Drew squatted next to Jeff and took the cigarette, the last in their pack. He took a drag as he thought over Jeff's story, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the brick wall. Next to them anthros were lining for The Warehouse and handing money to a bouncer. The opening act belted out a cover of a metal track Drew didn't recognize with the vocals drowned out by the music. He really should talk to the sound guy. Opening his eyes he blew out a cloud of smoke and looked over at Jeff trying to figure when his little brother had grown up.

Where Drew was a short, chubby, mouse type - he preferred the term husky - Jeff was lanky and stretched out, too thin for his height and awkward with half a head on Drew. They shared their mother's dark eyes and brown hair along with their absent dad's dark gray fur. Jeff kept his hair somewhat short and stuffed under a ballcap while Drew tucked his lanky, half formed dreads under a dark rasta cap. Still, the family resemblance was there.

An hour ago Jeff came racing to the club from Jodi's place and spilled the sob story: asking Mason months ago for advice with Jodi, Mason hooking up with her the next day, how Jodi found Jeff's love note today, and what had happened after. That he fucked Jodi. Jodi: Drew's friend, Mason's girlfriend, and Jeff's biggest crush. This was going to get messy. Exhaling and handing the cigarette back he weighed his next words with care. We all have to grow up sometime.

"Aiight, that's a fucking downer. Maybe Mason won't figure it out. Even if he does, I got you, broseph. I don't get why he did you dirty," Drew said. Shaking his head he continued. "Still, this is Mason, right? Mason doesn't catch feelings."

Jeff took a drag nodding along. Passing the cigarette back, he gave a nervous twitch. "Yeah b-but...Mason gets angry. Like, really angry. Y-you've seen him. Usually he picks a fight with bigger guys...I-I can't fight him. He gets scary when he's like that."

Mason was short even for a water deer and looked like a pushover. Drew figured he was just too damn cute. But Mason's temper and antlers could do damage; some guys found out the hard way. Drew knew Jeff wasn't in any condition to deal with Mason and he was strung out from more than worry. Reaching over he gave Jeff a friendly shove. "Yeah, but we've known Mason for years, bro. He wouldn't hurt you, even over this. We've had each other's backs. We're friends. It's whatever. Chances are he'll get pissed, write some super bad poetry he thinks he's good at, and get high. He'll bounce for a few days then come back bragging about whoever he hooks up with. Mason always lands on his feet."

Jeff picked at the patchwork on the knee of his jeans; mom obviously hadn't been able to buy him anything new so dumpster diving it was. Cast offs and hand-me-downs but at least they were clean. Drew was thankful his brother snuck a few of his things into the washer while mom wasn't looking. Clean underwear was a blessing when you bounced place to place. Jeff glanced up at the crowd filing into the warehouse and his eyes went wide, his breath coming quick. Tearing his eyes away he went back to toying with the patchwork.

Doing his best to ignore the crowd Jeff smiled. "Y-yeah, remember when he broke up with...what was it...M-Machelle? Said he was g-going to write a whole album. I think he w-wrote about half a page before he was too high to see straight and fell into bed with that Jason g-guy. Bet you he doesn't even remember M-Machelle. Right?"

"Word. I don't know why he cockblocked you with Jodi but whatever. Mason'll be over this in a week and move on. Maybe that's why he's late, he already found someone."

Jeff laughed and seemed to relax. Reaching behind his back he took out the wrapped block of hash Mason passed off earlier. He turned it over looking at the cheap newspaper wrapping. "I don't know h-how we're going to sell this without him. He got it f-from Freedom so who knows what it r-really is. Could be oregano or could be r-real stuff or could be mixed with who knows what. I don't trust that d-dog."

Drew rubbed his chin, giving a shrug. "Come on, Freedom is pretty chill. Just a dude trying to get by, score where he can. I mean, he's letting Mason crash with him, right? That's pretty legit."

Jeff rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Y-Yeah, and I think we b-both know how Mason pays the rent." He gave a jerk off motion, tongue pressing the side of his mouth. Jeff narrowed his eyes, shoulders hunching, "F-Freedom wants you high so he c-can try to screw you. Free love isn't free. And I k-know he laces his pot, tries to pass off s-skunk shit."

Drew took the package from Jeff and turned it over, sniffing at it, trying to guess what was really in there. Freedom wasn't exactly honest with what he sold. The mutt didn't tell the truth but he didn't lie. It was more telling someone what they wanted to hear. Just a wink and nod if they asked "will this fuck me up"? Drew had never seen hash more than a handful of times so there was no telling what it was. He handed it back as Jeff motioned for it, his brother continuing.

"Guy gives me the c-creeps. Old guy like that hanging out with us? Can't just keep his hands to himself, always p-pushing. One more drink, one more joint. And this? If he k-keeps fucking around someone is going to get pissed. It's all k-karma," Jeff said his voice hardening. "I bet he sold Jitters that bad batch."

"Bro! Chill out man! Don't say that!"

Rubbing his arm, Jeff shrugged, staring at the ground in front of him, eyes distant. His next words came out choked. "I-I can't keep doing this Drew. After J-Jitters, all I can think is that I'm next. I got that batch last year, remember? It could have been me. I'm...I'm thinking about taking mom up on her offer. D-different program this time. I'll try it, for real. I dunno, do some job training. I'll install air c-conditioners, do welding, something. I just can't end up like her."

Jeff scrubbed at his hair and the sleeve of his hoodie fell back. Drew saw the track marks with a few still looking fresh. Jeff couldn't stop once he got going. First booze, then pot, and then back to heroin with a spiral right after.

Drew tried to be comforting. He reached over putting a paw on Jeff's shoulder and said, "You don't want to go back to that, bro. I know you're scared but-"

Jeff shot to his feet, angry, shaking, looking down. There were tears in the corners of his eyes as he said, "But what? But what, D-Drew? Keep living like this? Peddling shit d-drugs for another score, hoping that the n-next hit doesn't fucking kill me? I saw Jitters when they wheeled her out of the h-house. Eyes rolled up, foaming at the mouth, thrashing around. I'm n-not going out like that. Not like t-that."

Taken aback Drew stared at a loss for words. Finishing the cigarette and stubbing it out, he stood up. "Ok, ok I got you bro. I got your back. You want to go back into the program, we'll get you in. But you got to hold it together for tonight and we got to sell whatever Freedom pushed on us. I want to eat today you know. You good?"

Nodding, Jeff took a few breaths, giving his brother a hug. As he held him close, shaking, he said, "I'm not d-dying like that, Drew. I'm n-not."

They stood in silence waiting on Mason. He was running late, as usual, and Drew glanced into the venue. Shit, they were going on stage soon. Where was that fucking guy? He couldn't leave Jeff alone to sell this shit. Just like Mason to hand you a problem to deal with.

Finally they saw him come stomping up with the telltale antlers and bright purple hair poking up from the crowd. The lithe deer managed to cut his way through shoving guys twice his size out of the way or at least getting them stagger aside. Drew saw the anger in his eyes, the snarl on his lips, and knew he was in a mood. It was going to ride him. Taking a breath and steeling himself, Drew waved, getting his attention. He kept his voice calm and playful as he said, "Yo Tusky! Glad you could make it! Dangle was looking for you and I gotta get my phat butt on stage!"

Jeff wilted under Mason's glare, trying to compose himself and failing miserably. "H-hey man, I've never smoked hash, like...anything I should know or say? How much should I..."

Mason marched up to Jeff getting in his personal space. The water deer had stopped growing in high school giving Jeff a full head on him. Balling his fists Mason looked him in the eyes. "Dude, you wanted to start selling, fucking start selling!"

Shit. Not now Mason, not fucking now. Drawing a shaky breath, Drew tried to intervene. "Whoa, chill bro..."

Mason snatched the bar from Jeff, breaking it in half. Shoving part of it back, he leaned in snarling. "Take your half I take mine, shut the fuck up and sell it and leave me alone."

Jeff glanced down, guilty, the nervous shake getting worse. He tried again, voice quivering "H-hey...are you ok...?"

"I broke up with Jodi."

"Oh...um...why..." Jeff looked away, scuffing at the sidewalk with his foot.

"You know why. Fuck off."

Just like that Mason was swallowed up into the crowd, gone as quick as he'd appeared. Drew thought it went alright; at least Mason hadn't thrown a punch. Looking at the half of the hash they still had Drew smiled, giving a shrug and looking at Jeff. "Check it. Pissed but he's dealing with it. He's gonna sell his part, get fucked up, and we'll see him tomorrow. Mason will work through this in his own way, aiight? Mason always lands on his feet." The opening act started to wind down, the lead's microphone giving a wave of feedback. Damn that sound guy. Drew hesitated, looking at Jeff. "I got to head backstage. You think you can sell whatever this shit is? By yourself?"

Jeff nodded once, then again firmly. Drawing himself up to his full, lanky height Jeff gave a nervous smile. " I c-can do this, bro. Trust m-me, ok? I'm not a little k-kid anymore."

Drew clapped a paw on Jeff's shoulder, returning the smile. "Hey, you got laid once, aiight? Don't let it go to your head. Meet me backstage when it's over. Hey, you wanna do Jerkin Pizza tonight? Like old times?"

"Y-Yeah. Maybe Mason will have cooled down by t-then. He can k-kick your ass at Mortal Kombat, just like old t-times."

Drew gave Jeff a final hug and Jeff tucked the 'hash' under his hoodie. They parted ways with Drew heading backstage while Jeff entered through the front. The bouncer let him in - guests of the talent get in for free - and Jeff made his way out back. Rusty barbed wire topped a fence around an old parking lot with a few derelict, stripped out trucks scattered around. Old oil barrels burned with cast off wood and anthros huddled around in small groups drinking, smoking, and talking. Jeff's lungs burned from the smoke, a mix of wood and whatever drugs were scrounged up. The Warehouse wasn't just a venue for local bands. It was the best, and cheapest, place to get fucked up.

Jeff slunk toward what they called the bar: a collection of buckets filled with ice and bottles and few burly guys making sure everyone paid. Small-time sellers worked the crowd showing their wares with outstretched hands flashing baggies and bottles and pills as anthros walked by. Jeff joined in trying to drum up business.

It was hard not to slouch and Jeff constantly checked his posture to make sure his spine stayed straight. Even after what happened with Jodi - the thought bringing a blush to his cheeks - he was still the kid brother. Scoring big tonight would show them. Show Drew he wasn't just a little brother. Make Mason take him seriously, for once. Show Jodi he could take care of her. Jeff rehearsed his pitch under his breath and tried to work past the stutters. Hard to take a stuttering drug dealer seriously.

His eyes darted among the groups around the lot. He started toward one, stopped, hesitated, and then toward another. Swallowing hard and fighting down panic he quashed his doubts. He could do this. Jeff relaxed his shoulders and put a swagger in his step as he stepped into the circle of light. "Hey guys. I got some good s-stuff here. Imported, brought over from the Middle East and shit. Q-quality, you know?"

A jacked up panther looked over at him, giving a shrug. "Yeah? What you got there lil mousy? Something you swiped from your mom's medicine cabinet?"

Jeff flushed as the others laughed at the joke. He looked too damn young. Pulling the wrapped bar out, he gestured with it. "No, it's hash. Super sticky, super potent, it'll knock you outta your boots if you're wearing 'em. Trust m-me this is some good shit. Got it from my guy this morning."

One of the group, a short sheep, grabbed it out of Jeff's paws, sniffing at it. He tossed it back and said, "I don't know dude. Lot of people fake hash, you know what I mean? How do we know it's legit?"

Jeff foundered. How did you tell if hash was good or not? Fucking Mason. Fucking Freedom. He was reaching. "I smoked some when I got it from my g-guy. Laid me out for a couple hours, swear to gods. This is the good stuff."

The panther shrugged. Reaching into his pocket he said, "Eh, why not. Got nothing else to do tonight. How much?"

Jeff grinned and his heart raced. He could do this. "How about t-ten a gram? I could sell you the whole block but you can try it out. Sounds good?"

Ten bucks was a steal but Jeff figured the block was fake as shit. No way Freedom had cash for real stuff. The anthros dug into their pockets as Jeff used his pocket knife to cut off chunks of the block, passing it out and said, "It'll be super sticky when you put it in a pipe. Mix in just a p-pinch of your own pot, kinda help thin it out. You're in for a trip dudes."

And like that he'd made a hundred bucks. Jeff went from group to group, his sales pitch getting smoother, the block getting smaller, and his wad getting bigger. He didn't have to correct his posture as much and his stutter tapered off. This was a lot easier than the guys made it sound. Jeff didn't have to fake his swagger as he headed for the exit. He'd heard the announcement for Demon Web and figured he might be able to catch the end of their show. Then a large paw fell on his shoulder, holding him back.

Attached to that paw was the biggest, thickest, meanest looking rhino he'd ever laid eyes on. The white rhino was decked out in biker leathers showing off arms thicker than Jeff's legs. Jeff felt his legs buckle under him when the rhino broke into a wide grin.

"Hey there. You the guy with the hash? Heard it was good shit. And pretty cheap too. How much for the rest of the block?"

"Oh the entire b-block huh?" Jeff swallowed. "Well, I c-could do like a h-hundred for the rest. How's that s-sound? Last minute d-discount?"

The rhino gave a slow, wide smile. Keeping his paw on Jeff's shoulder he pulled the mouse away from the door. Leading them toward a gate the rhino pushed it open and pulled Jeff into a side alley. With a grin he said, "Oh yeah I'm sure it's the best stuff. Let's see what you have."

Jeff hesitated for a second but the rhino pulled him along. He just hoped Drew was having a better time than he was.

With Jeff doing his best to hustle in the old lot, Drew hurried to make it backstage in time. The tiger posted by the door nodded in recognition to Drew, tossing in wink. Drew grinned as he trotted by and glanced at the large feline. The boy was cute, had to give the tiger that. Maybe he'd be up for a little something after the show? Always hard to guess who was going to let you blow them and who was going to kick your ass for trying. Or let you blow them and then kick your ass.

The opening act had wrapped up and the guys were already pulling equipment on stage. Drew walked over to his drum kit and sat down to check the setup. He made some minor adjustments to the cymbals and drum height making sure everything was just right. His heart raced as he breathed in deep, inhaling and drinking down the sights and sounds. Behind the curtain the crowd was still going, the roar washing over him. This was the good shit.

As he got settled in David, the big rottweiler, looked at him. David left his guitar propped up on an amp and walked over, leaning on Drew's kit as he said, "Hey asshole, thanks for leaving us to do the heavy lifting. Your shit weighs a ton. Got something else better to do?"

Drew gave a shrug as he said, "Hey, sorry bro. You know I pull my own weight most of the time, aiight? I just had to see my little bro off."

David grabbed Mark, the pink dyed Ram lead singer, as he walked by. David always had to have an audience. "Oh? Had to take care of D-D-D-Dangle? H-h-how is t-t-the little g-g-g-guy?"

Drew was around the kit and face to face - well face to chest - with David in a flash. Holding the tip of a drum stick to the canine's throat he said, "What the fuck did you say? Mind running that by me again, broseph?"

David snarled and bared his teeth before Mark stepped between the two forcing them apart. A stage hand looked over at the noise before Mark gave them a wave and a smile. The ram looked at Drew and David, speaking loud enough to be heard over the crowd. "Look assholes, we are about to go on. We nail this and we get to come back and play again. And for a bigger cut of the door. Yeah? Real money? So cut the bullshit and get your heads in the game."

"Yeah, I love playing in the same band as this homo," David said, shooting daggers at Drew.

"Don't be jealous that I get more ass than you, bro. Bet I suck dick better than your girlfriend."

"Fuckin' knock if off you two," Mark said as he gave a thumbs up to the sound guy. Drew noticed that at least it wasn't the same dude as before, thank gods. Giving them a shove Mark pushed the two apart. "Get to your places. Drew, give us a good count. Ok?"

David gave Drew the finger as he grabbed his guitar. Drew called out, saying, "Thought you didn't like having a homo in the band. Fuck me yourself, coward."

Drew smiled as the doberman turned away in a huff. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The curtain went up and they were on. Drew gave the count and they broke into their opening song, a cover of Danzig. Nothing special, nothing challenging. Gods he wanted to play something original. Nayomi, the crow running the place, listened to their demo before letting them perform and told them to stick to covers. Harsh but fair. Demon Web was rough and that was being generous. Give the people what they want. The pit going, the crowd losing it, and Drew lost in the music. He was alive.

Drew sweated in the cool air, heart beating, grin plastering his face. He wasn't a metal guy but it didn't matter. Metal, punk, jazz, ska, classical; what mattered was the music. It flowed through him like electricity. Too bad the band with Mason and the guys from high school didn't work out. Mason liked guitar, he just didn't want to practice. It was the same with other guys who just wanted to find gigs and get famous. Drew didn't get here because he was born being a dummer; he got here because he worked his ass off.

Wrapped in the music Drew lost track of time. Before he knew it Mark was giving their final shout out. The crowd went wild, screaming and calling for an encore. Drew stood with a smile on his face. Fuck, this was better than drugs, better than sex. Well, almost as good as sex. A close second. Riding high he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off the stage ignoring David. Let the asshole pack up the drum kit.

Hustling down the back steps Drew hoped to catch sight of the tiger. Damn, looked like he left for the night. Well, if Mason had just broken up with Jodi maybe he'd be looking for a comforting shoulder to cry on. Mason might be an asshole, he might be a moody little fucker, he might be trash at the guitar and have no idea how to write lyrics, but he was a good guy.

Drew slowed pausing mid step. Was he still crushing on Mason? It was a high school thing, years ago, and the deer made it clear he wasn't interested. Well, not interested in dating. They'd fallen into bed off and on through the years but that was it. Was he sort of happy Mason was single again? Well as single as Mason could be. Raking his fingers through his dreads Drew shook his head and stomped away from the stage.

Drew went around to the front of The Warehouse to find Jeff. Fuck he wanted pizza so damn bad, his empty stomach growling. Jerkin' Pizza was alright and they were open late. As the crowd emptied out Drew stood on tiptoe to catch sight of Jeff. He should be here by now. Where was he? The minutes dragged by as he waited and still didn't see his brother. Don't panic. Maybe he went around.

He doubled back and found the band loading their stuff in the van. Drew walked over to Mark and said, "Yo man, you seen Dangles? My brother? He was supposed to be here. I hope I didn't miss him."

The ram shook his head and another guy looked over and nodded. The wolf, his fur dyed a deep purple, said, "Yeah, guy with the broken tail, right? Looked like the bouncers caught him. The white rhino dude that polices up the bar downstairs. Might have been in trouble, I dunno."

Drew's mouth went dry. Jeff. Oh fuck. Every bit of post show high dropped away as sprinted back to the front and ran through the crowd searching. He'd left his little brother, he'd left Jeff who couldn't deal with people talking too loud, who couldn't handle ordering for himself at Trash Burger, to go out and sell drugs. What was he thinking? Stupid. Looking around he caught sight of the familiar dyed hair and antlers. Rushing over he caught up to Mason. In a rush he said, "Yo, Tusk. Where you been, broseph? Have you seen my brother?"

Mason didn't even turn around. He seemed lost, eyes unfocused, barely even bothering to reply. He simply said, "Nope."

Drew stood in shock at the sudden change in Mason. "You seem like you're in a better mood...what happened to your shirt?" Mason's shirt was ripped, the long sleeved, striped shirt torn. It was his favorite. Shaking his head he pushed the thought aside, quickening his pace to catch back up. "I saw him in the crowd getting hassled by a big rhino. We were supposed to meet up and walk back to Jodi's....um, Jitter's place together."

"Thinking about Dangle is a buzzkill," Mason said languidly, giving a lazy, dreamy shrug as he walked. "I'm sure he went back early to fuck Jodi more."

Drew's jaw just about dropped. Mason could be so dense. Sure, some rhino walks off with Jeff and disappears but of course he went back to Jodi's. It was like Mason was willfully ignorant.

"It's fine really, I'll get over it," Mason said as he walked off, continuing away from the concert and heading out toward the railroad tracks.

Mason and his damn moods. Drew let irritation slip into his voice as he said, "What's got you so 180 right now?

"You guys sounded great, I made some money, I met a cool guy. I had fun tonight," Mason said with a breezy grin.

Did he giggle? He had fun? Sarcasm dripped into Drew's voice. "Ooo, you met a boy?" he said, laying it on. "So, what's his name? Is he into threesomes, because I need to get laid."

Mason was, as usual, oblivious. He was lost, making vague motions with his hand. "Dude it's not like that...I actually don't know his name...shit. Tall bat, black hair, rocking a red leather jacket."

Drew's stomach dropped. "Wait, you mean Hex?! He and this crow Nayomi run that place. They booked us, paid us fifty bucks and everything. Wow, like, he's...a big shot." Something did not feel right. The only time he'd see Hex was when they'd booked the show with Nayomi and he didn't get a good vibe from the bat. It was those eyes.

"You saying I'm not a big shot?" Mason said coming back to earth. His focus returned and his smile looked genuine.

Why was it so hard to stay mad at him? Drew stomped down the feelings rising in his stomach and said, "No offence, dudemar, but you're a small shot at best."

They walked in silence with Mason elated at whatever fun he'd had and Drew lost in worry. They passed deserted warehouses, empty industrial parks, and overgrown railroad tracks, walking through the worst part of town. After long minutes of silence they came to a small, tucked away lot with a chain link fence still standing to protect whatever business used to be there.

Mason's shoulders sagged and his head dropped as they approached the van. He said, "Alright, dude. This is home."

Drew remembered Jeff's comments as he looked at the rundown vehicle. "Still? How long are you going to crash in Freedom's van?"

Mason gave a snort shoving his hands in his pockets. He kicked a rock, sending it flying off into the bushes, a dull clang as it bounced off something. "Dude, you're couch surfing too. Maybe if we can save up enough we can get an apartment together or something."

Drew wanted to laugh. An apartment? With what money and what credit? Still, the thought tickled. One of those lofts they were converting from the gutted industrial buildings with plenty of room for Drew's drum kit and Mason's canvases and paint. Drew could have the band over while Mason worked his crazy designs and graphics. And evenings alone. Pushing the thought aside he smiled and tried to stay positive. Keep the dream alive. Sometimes that's all you have. "That'd be awesome-sauce. But...Even with Dangle?"

Mason walked over to the van slowly pulling the door open. He looked down searching. "You guys have been my friends since we were kids. Your brother's an asshole. I'll get over it...but he's still an asshole."

Mason climbed in and quietly pulled the door closed. Drew smiled as he looked up at the stars. Yeah, Mason was going to be alright. He walked away and started back toward The Warehouse. Maybe he could crash as Jodi's or Mark's. At least Jeff still had a bed at mom's house. He just hoped Jeff made it home safe.

Jeff was trying to stay safe. He tried to wrap skinny arms around his torso but the heavy booted foot slammed into his side. Another kick to the ribs as the rhino leaned down and got in his face. The hash was in the gutter, soaking in the filth, ruined. The rhino grabbed his hair, yanking his head back, looking him in the eyes. Drew shook uncontrollably as tremors sank in. He wasn't foaming at the mouth - yet - but he could feel a seizure lurking. The rhino grunted and shoved him back on the ground. Time for the rhino's smoke break.

He'd been at this for, for how long Jeff thought. Hours? Fuck. He coughed, trying to sit up and failing. Jeff's ribs ached and his head rang. The same questions, again and again. Where did you get the hash? Who gave it to you and where is your friend? Why the fuck did the rhino care who his friend was? What did it matter? Just fucking kill me and get it over with.

This was karma. For selling fake drugs and ripping people off. And for fucking Jodi. It felt good to get some petty revenge on Mason, that smug fuck. Jeff loved Jodi and to Mason she was just another piece of ass. A notch on the belt. What did he care? He couldn't even remember her favorite color. It was blue. Mason wouldn't even remember Jodi in a month and Jeff would never forget her. But it was karma, paid back in spades.

The rhino finished his cigarette and went back to work. The beating went on and Jeff lost track of time. Between his dad and public school he was used to taking an ass kicking but this was a whole different level. Protect your head with your arms, tuck your chin, trying to curl up. Can't protect your kidneys though. Hopefully he wouldn't piss blood. It was a blur of pain.

When the rhino took another break Jeff tried to raise his head. The sun was rising. Fuck, he'd been here all night. Maybe the rhino would let him go. Hearing the heavy footsteps coming back he curled up ready for a blow that never came. Instead he heard the sound of metal scraping leather, the rhino squatting down, the tip of a blade in his face. The rhino was calm, far calmer than he'd been before. Yanking Jeff's head up by the hair, the blade near his eye, the rhino said, "I'm done, punk. I'll gut you and leave you to bleed out. I don't give a shit. Now...where the fuck is your god damned friend."

Jeff tried to back away as the blade got closer to his eye but the rhino had a deathgrip on his head. Fuck. Please no. He could feel the blade getting closer and something finally snapped. "T-train tracks. He's down in the r-railyard. Van, in a van. Don't hurt him. I sold you the shit. Hurt me. Please."

Sheathing the blade the rhino stood up, yanking Jeff to his feet and held onto his hoodie. Pulling him along, half dragging the mouse, the rhino said, "Lead the way shithead."

The rhino yanked Jeff pulling him along. He could barely see out of one eye; it was almost swollen shut. Had he lost a tooth? Jeff ached. He felt like he was going in and out of consciousness as he stumbled along. They came to the spot. Jeff looked around, shaking. "Y-you're not going to hurt him, are you? He didn't do anything. I did it. Please don't hurt him. He's a good guy. He didn't do anything. I did it. Please-"

The rhino punched him in the gut. "Get him out here."

Jeff hesitated, earning another backhand from the rhino. Turning his head, he spit, blood hitting the ground. "M-Mason? A-are you there...H-hey man it's me...can we talk? P-Please...it's important."

Don't answer Mason, please don't be in there. Don't answer, please don't be in there. Jeff almost cried when the door opened with a pissed off Mason stepping into the morning light. The deer pulled his pants up, looking around angrily. The rhino dropped Jeff as he crossed the distance and grabbed Mason. The rhino pulled the deer away from the van and tossed him to the ground. "This the guy who gave you that fake shit you sold?"

Jeff nodded on the verge of tears. Fuck Mason, I tried. I wasn't strong enough. He looked on in horror as the rhino laid into Mason. "W-wait. You said you were just going to talk to him!"

Mason looked up from the ground, betrayal in his eyes. "You sold me out man?"

That's right Mason. I'm the piece of shit that fucked Jodi and brought this guy here. I'm the mother fucker that shit on our friendship. Looking on in horror Jeff felt himself die on the inside. It should be him on the ground. It should be him. It was his karma.

As the rhino started to kick the shit out of Mason, Jeff tried to back away. He should run. Get help. His legs felt rooted in place leaving him to stand in horror.

There was a call, a shout, and Freedom stepped out of the van, nude. Of course. The puzzle pieces weren't hard to click together. Freedom nude, Mason tugging his pants up. And Mason had the balls to whine about Jodi cheating. Hypocrite. They all were. They all deserved this. Karma.

The older canine was lean, all sinew and muscle, not an ounce of fat on his body, his black fur streaked with patches of silver. Freedom said something, the words slipping away from Jeff. He advanced on the rhino, hands raised, and slugged it out with the big anthro.

He was good, trading blow for blow. The rhino had size and Freedom had speed. Jeff watched, the smell of smoke filling his nostrils. What was burning? It smelled like burnt bread. Oh no. Not now. Please not now. His legs seized up. Press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Tuck your chin down. Brace for impact. Spots filled his vision and he felt weightless.

He was on the ground now. At least that one was quick. His muscles were frozen but he could still watch, trapped in his body, eyes glued to the fight.

For a moment, Jeff almost thought Freedom could pull it off and he might just win. He delivered a solid punch sending the rhino stumbling. And then the dog got cocky. He turned, shouting something to Mason, and the rhino lunged. The knife wasn't just for threats. It sunk into Freedom's chest, dropping the canine to his knees, blood pouring from the wound. Karma. Mason crawled over to help, but how could he help?

The rhino wasn't looking and Jeff felt his legs unlock. Mason sat cradling Freedom's body. The canine wasn't moving. He stopped shaking. He was running. Drew. The police. Fuck, anyone. Anyone that can help Mason. Help Freedom. Help me.