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This is the full first chapter of my novel, Cora's Gambit. It doesn't contain Anthros or Pr0nz but I thought I would post it up all the same, check out my journal page for more information on this and other stuffage. Expect some more anthro focused stuff as soon as I get done with the polish draft of the book. :)

Chapter 1

Ether City, Georgia

July 16th 4:13 AM

Ridgeton Business District, Downtown

Cora hated field duty. Urban areas had always been too crowded, too dirty and too loud, and then there was the ugly symmetrical, utilitarian architecture and lack of open space. What had bothered her most was those very buildings. Most people didn't know what it was like to survey a building with an eye towards rear exits and spots where shadows were thickest, they had no reason to. Cora had learned, though, she had had no choice.

She could not help but question the usefulness of those skills now; police were easy to hide from. Zombies were another matter entirely.

It was scavenging runs like this that had almost gotten both of her companions killed on many occasions, yet without those runs there would be no food or water, clean clothes or toiletries. More importantly, Megan had made it clear that without Cora's participation, there would be no more immune system drugs for Jennifer.

All she had to do was play by Megan's rules and be careful. She could stick it out for a few more hours if it meant Jen would have another day, another chance for them to find a cure. Megan was a doctor, a military doctor at that, if anyone could help the girl it would have been her. Cora and Jen both needed to keep on her good side if they wanted to have any chance of Jen's recovery.

Cora zipped up her pack and edged away from the trunk of the car that had been crashed through the front of a law firm, turning towards the man and woman who were crouched in the shadow of the building's overhang."Just be smart about it." She assumed her position between Megan and Pat, whispering, "Nothing."

"Fuck," Megan muttered as she rose, peeked around the edge of the building and motioned them on. "We're running out of time. Two more places and we'll head back." She pushed her glasses up before leading them to the middle of the street at a brisk walk.

"What about the hospital?" Cora's stomach clenched. "You said we'd look for--"

"We get stuck down here after daybreak and we're fucked."

"But--"

Patrick stepped up beside Cora, stealing a glance over his shoulder. "You don't want to be on hospital grounds when the sun comes up. Place turns into a party and half the city's invited." His leather jacket crunched when he brushed against her. "For some reason mutants like to hang out there. . . Usually the scarier shit-- this one time we saw--"

"Pat," Megan snapped her fingers twice and pointed to an alley ahead of them. A splotch of dying street light cast an orange hue over a sign bolted to the wall that read _"Bert's Pawn"_with an arrow pointing to the alley. "Feel like shopping?"

He frowned. "Sarge. . . You sure?"

"Yeah. We hit it and get the fuck out of here. It's the South, there's gotta be some guns here."

"It's not guns we need, Megan." Cora said quietly. "Can't we just make a quick run by Saint Jude's? It can't be far from here."

The soldier cast a suspicious look at Cora, one she had seen many times in the woman's eyes. The kind of expression that told her if she knew what was good for her, she'd shut the hell up and follow orders.

Tonight wasn't going to be a good night for Jennifer.

"Megan. . ."

She turned abruptly and clamped her hand down on Cora's mouth, leaning in to whisper against her ear. "Less of this. Got it?"

"Mph-"

Megan's grip tightened. "You're gonna get us killed."

Cora nodded in resignation. "Jen, I'm sorry, baby."

Pat touched her shoulder with a sympathetic smile before he urged her on so he could take up the rear. They wandered down the alley in a loose column with Megan guiding the way behind her Beretta, around mounds of trash and pot holes filled with pools of highly caustic rain water, eventually coming to the storefront where Bert's had been. The main window was boarded up with a hole punched through the wood which looked as though someone blasted through it with a shotgun. The the single door that lead inside was also boarded up but hadn't been disturbed.

Cora was about to ask who would enter the building when both Megan and Pat took up positions on opposite sides of the door to cover the alley, neither saying a word. Probably something they had learned to do from spending so much time in the field, Cora decided. You had to get good at being quiet. If not, you didn't come home.

_"Guess that's me, huh?"_She took a deep breath of the stagnant air, hefted her piece of rebar and pushed gently against the door as she started to crouch down to minimize her exposure.

A sharp electronic_ding_belched through a door chime somewhere in the room. Her breath backed up in her throat and she froze, unsure of what to do. She almost risked a look at Megan for instruction but doing so would have torn her attention from the gloom ahead of her. If there was going to be an attack, it would have happened when they were inside and now who or _what_ever might have been inside knew to expect visitors.

Megan leaned back and nudged her without taking her eyes off the alley, "Go."

Cora frowned. Was she nuts? No, she was pragmatic. Cora knew enough about her to know that the woman was probably more suited to surviving this than either of her companions, an artifact of being a drug dealer in her youth. Somehow that wasn't as reassuring as it should have been. Did it mean she would sacrifice Cora if it meant _she_would survive?

"Stop being paranoid, if she wanted to kill you she's had plenty of opportunity. She's a Jesus freak anyway-- now go." Corapoked her head through the crack and sniffed the air. It was stale and dusty with a faint tang of rotting food. She tightened her grip on the rebar and her leather gloves creaked. It wasn't the wind that howled through the alley outside or even distant gun fire that bothered her any more. It was the eerie, pervasive silence that lingered in buildings like this; it was the stillness that waited to be broken by violence.

She pushed the door half way open, listened another beat and then glanced over her shoulder to her. "Seems clear."

"Got it." The red headed woman whispered before she touched Pat's shoulder. "We're up." She brushed passed Cora and kept a low profile, her pistol at the ready. Their heavy leather jackets creaked softly as they slipped by and into the dark of the shop, leaving Cora to take up watch of the door from inside.

A single spear of orange light pierced the darkness through the hole in the plywood and illuminated a small shop interior with a few display cases near the back of the store and a layer of dust over everything. Shards of glass reflected some of the light near the plywood making Cora think of a flashlight being shined on droplets of water. In another time and place the concept of taking comfort in such sights would have been absurd, a sign she was cracking, maybe. Here, though, it was a sign that whoever had occupied the shop was probably long gone or had passed on.

_"Dead. Nobody passes on any more. They die."_Cora slid her foot in between the door frame and door and took a deep breath, wondering when she had become so cynical. In the back of her mind she heard her mother preaching about how precious life was, even if reality had vastly different ideas. Cora's jaw tightened at the thought. Did she even have the right to think of her any more?

"Where're all the guns and shit?" Megan whispered as she pawed over one of the empty racks in the middle of the room.

"They probably got looted or they kept them in the back," Patrick, replied as he started toward the back room. Glass crunched under his boots, sending Cora's heart into her throat. She startled involuntarily and grabbed the door, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Megan grabbed her shoulder before she could move. "Shit," Pat whispered.

The three of them froze in place as the seconds ticked off like bombs.

One.

Two.

Three.

At once, Megan and Pat crouched and walked towards the display cases near the back of the shop, sliding around them quietly and coming to a door behind them. Pat raised a hand and signaled a sweeping gesture before pointing at his own chest and then at Megan, indicating she would be covering him, Cora figured. Megan ducked low and Pat stood up and at once they opened the door and crept around the frame and out of view.

Cora took another deep breath to calm her nerves, looking to the alley street through the front door. Strangely, most of the street lights in the south side were still getting power, it was a mixed blessing at the best of times; it left them exposed but it also meant they could see better and had just that much more time to react if they ran into something.

When the back door clicked shut Cora relaxed a bit. It meant there was nothing wrong, a safety precaution Cora had gotten used to but never quite understood the reason behind. It was probably for the best, there would come a time, probably soon, that the military would retake the city and there would be no need to know this stuff. In the meantime, they just had to make do with what they had available to them and adapt as best they could.

Hope was worth holding on to, especially in times like this. Some people, like her mother, would have hoped that some divine power would have saved them, others, like Cora, were more practical. The city wasn't completely lost and it had a national guard station on the outskirts, it was still worth saving. They had even tried evacuating people to it during night of the riots. Since then, a couple of attempts had been made, so long as the people with the tanks and machine guns didn't give up on them, the city would still stand.

As quietly as she could, Cora pulled out her note pad and pen, setting the heavy piece of rebar against the wall so she could write. She penned the word "Faith" across the top page in between some other words she couldn't make out. It was cathartic, perhaps a sign that she was loosing it but if anyone found her notepad they could speculate on her mental state until the cows came home. She'd probably be too dead for it to matter, anyway.

"Stop that. It's going to be fine, just--"

A sharp electronic bleat shattered the silence and caused Cora to jump to her feet. It was a cell phone chime. A split second passed and it was quiet again. She stood there, hand on the door. Panic shot up her back. What if it rang again?

It did.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit." She jerked her the door open by reflex and started forward. An image of Megan and Pat flashed in her mind. She couldn't abandon them. "Stop. Just stop." She pushed her weapon down into the crack between the door and wall, spinning on her heel towards the sound. It erupted once more from one of the display cases near the boarded up window. Dammit, no! She sprinted across the room, vaulted over the broken glass and slammed into the display case, banging her shin painfully.

A split second before she opened the display, the though of an alarm system struck her. If it was still functioning she would set it off and draw everything within several blocks to their location.

The phone chimed once more.

"Ngh, dammit." Cora gritted her teeth and yanked the case open. No alarm sounded but the pounding of her heart. She grabbed the phone and fumbled with it. Her thumb slipped smoothly from the back cover."Dammit! Come on!"

Cora pushed against it and again her fingers slipped off. She glanced toward the door through the case as the phone chimed again. She slammed it down and stomped on it with her heel. It emitted a strangled chirp and she brought her foot down even harder. _"Stop!"_It was going to kill them. Cora stomped on it once more and didn't stop until it went quiet.

Panting from the effort, she knelt down behind the counter and watched the door. If they were lucky she had gotten to it in time, if not, they were all screwed.

When nothing exploded Cora grabbed her notepad and pen, sighing. She started back towards the door, glancing at the mangled remains of the phone to make absolutely sure it was out of commission.

Another phone's speaker blasted through the din with a deep harmonic ring tone of some hip hop group. Cora tensed and dived around the display, snatching it. _"What is this, an Internet prank video?"_When she moved it the screen lit up showing the phone number in bright red text.

The area code was local and the number did not look particularly extraordinary or memorable. She turned it over and fingered the battery door. It wasn't completely unheard of for phones to ring even so long after the failure of most of the other services but it didn't mean anyone was actually dialing any more. Pat and Cora had speculated on it during their down time, coming up with all manner of explanations from 'ghosts in the network' to the more practical things like people trying to get a hold of loved ones. But someone making a call to a phone in a pawn shop more than a month after everything went to hell? That could have been random chance. Someone may have found a cell phone and was going through the contacts list, or they may have been punched in the numbers at random.

Cora pushed the battery compartment off and popped the battery out. Whatever the reason, she wasn't going to let it endanger them all. She stood up slowly and looked to the door once more.

This time one of the phones vibrated against the glass shelf with a soft_wrrr._

"Are you serious?" she whispered.

She set her notepad down on the counter and grabbed the phone. It was an ultra sleek touch screen model that fit her hand perfectly and felt solid. It was remarkably clean for something that had been sitting for so long. When she picked it up the screen came to life, displaying the exact same number as the other phone. Cora stared for a moment. "So much for random chance." She mused as she grabbed her pen and jotted the number down. Maybe it was an emergency number or something. Maybe someone had finally rigged up a way to notify everyone that help was coming. But why weren't the other phones ringing?

For that matter, why were they on at all? Cora took a sharp breath and fingered the screen, considering. The phone vibrated again. She swallowed and hit the answer button. "H- Hello?" she whispered.

The caller was quiet but she could hear the muffled sound of a violin playing, as though there was something between the speaker and the violin. Cora was careful to listen for other sounds that might help her identify the location that the caller was at. Some part of her expected, hoped, to hear military equipment of some sort. Instead, she heard stillness. A sharp voice cut in through the music.

It was tinny, electronically modulated to sound robotic yet slow and methodical. Each word was measured out for maximum effect. "Good evening, I trust I'm not interrupting?"

Cora blinked.

The voice waited.

"Uh-. . ." Cora looked to the door. "Kind of. W- Who is this?"

"I find names to be transitory things. Their meaning changes with time and is often shaped by those who hear them. For now, you may call me Sphinx." The violin trailed off to a long melancholy note. "I would like to offer you the answers you seek. . . Do I have your attention?"

An image flashed in her mind of Jennifer laid up in the ratty bed, bound in blankets and still shivering. Crying from the pain or babbling between fleeting moments of lucidity. The image stabbed Cora in the heart. No one so young should have had to endure that. "M-" Cora swallowed back on her words. "There's no cure."

"I disagree."

Cora's heart stopped. She stared at the wall.

Without prompting, the voice continued. "I've a riddle for you. Answer it and you will be rewarded." There was a small pause. Enough to ensure she was still paying attention. She looked to the phone. "Or you could hang up and we will never speak again."

She swallowed. "W- What k- kind of reward?"

"That is for me to know. I believe you will like it."

"A- And if I answer wrong?"

"Then we will never speak again. I am many things, but I am fair. . . You are under no obligation."

Did she really trust in this voice blindly? She should have known better. But if he had an answer. If he had the cure, how could she say no? Cora inhaled deeply to stop her swirling thoughts. "What if?" Without thinking about it, she nodded her agreement. "Yeah, all right. . ."

"Very well. Your riddle is as follows: What is it which builds things up, lays mountains low, dries up lakes and makes things grow? It cares not a whim about your passing and is like few other things because it is everlasting?" The violin continued to play in the background, it's haunting tune filling the silence between them as Cora stared straight ahead. "Good luck."

"Wind. Air." No, that wasn't right. Was there a time limit on this? What about Jennifer, was she okay? Cora sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and exhaled it, refocusing herself. Everlasting. That was the key. Air wasn't everlasting. The only thing that was eternal were diamonds and time. Time! She swallowed. "T-. . . That sounds like time."

"Does it?" The robotic voice hummed softly. "Is that your answer?"

"Yeah. Time. Time's the answer."

"That it is." The violin played another few bars, sliding into a deeper valley of sound. "Very good. Under the counter in front of you, behind the trash bags, you will find your reward."

"You're watching me?" Cora looked about the room feeling suddenly exposed.

"Unlike like life, I am quantifiable." The tinny electronic rasp of the speaker's voice responded almost instantly. Too fast. "You will find me fair in all things."

"_Are_you watching me?" The line went silent for so long Cora thought he'd hung up on her. She pulled the phone back and checked but it was still connected. "You don't like questions, do you?"

"You have other priorities to be concerned with. When you have found your reward, we will talk further."

She considered hanging up the phone right then and there but as she crouched down, the realization hit her full force. If he _was_watching her and decided to pull whatever he was planning to hurt her, she would have to keep up appearances to warn Pat and Megan. It wasn't the first time _they_had dealt with raiders. She just needed to play it cool. "This isn't a bomb, is it?" She whispered.

"I am not that impersonal." This monotone reply was instantaneous.

"Comforting thought." Cora licked her lips and rummaged around under the counter, using the light from the phone to see by. There were boxes of price tags, loan forms and other useless garbage right in front of the bags. It was apparent right away that the shoe box behind the stack of trash bags didn't belong, it was only because she knew what she was looking for that she realized it. To anyone else it, would have appeared as meaningless as the rest of the supplies. He had thought this out.

A paper band taped around the width of the box functioned as a tamper evident seal and gave smoothly as she lifted the heavy box out of its hiding place. The lid came off just as easily, revealing a tissue paper lining and a stack of three microwavable meals, a travel first aid kit for minor cuts and a couple of sealed rolls of gauze. Cora lifted the medical kit out to check the expiration date.

And then she saw it.

Underneath the meals, wrapped in a thin veil of tissue paper was a thick IV bag and a sealed tubing kit. It even had the needle and plastic drip chamber. Megan had been teaching her about basic first aid and through the treatments they'd been administering to Jennifer she had learned a bit about the equipment and what to look for, how to identify-- quickly-- what was needed. She lifted the bag out and squinted at the name. It looked like saline and the bag confirmed her estimation. Then she saw the real prize taped to the back. A small purple ampule with a white label and bright red letters which read:"TRIAL: READ DIRECTIONS BEFORE ADMINISTERING."

After a little adjusting to the light, Cora found the directions printed on the top of the glass vial right next to the purpose statement "For treatment of auto-immune deficiencies as a result of AIDS, Ebola, Chemotherapy or other critical immune system issues." It had some kind commercial markings from a company she didn't recognize and, despite her angle, she couldn't make out the rest of it. Jennifer's treatment was starting her in the face and yet the only thing she could come up with was a strangled whimper. Did she dare hope? Could it really have been that easy?

Megan had said that there was no known cure and that the virus was Ebola based with a one hundred percent mortality rate even with_prompt treatment. Jennifer had been surviving, though, she was lucid more often than not and she could even walk around for short periods of time. She was getting _better even if Megan didn't want to admit it. The homemade IV's she had cobbled together helped and now. . .

Now they had a real treatment.

"Ohmygod." Cora swallowed. "Y- Is this for real?"

"Do I have your attention now?" The Sphinx stopped playing his violin.

Her hand trembled as she hugged the IV to her chest. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. It wasn't a cure but it was the closest thing they could have hoped for given the circumstances. Oh, baby, just hold tight. We'll be back soon. Cora swallowed. "Yes." She whispered. "What's the catch?"

There was a grating electronic chuckle. "I am hosting a game of sorts. You under no obligation to play. You can hang up this phone right now and go on with your life, whatever may be left of it." When Cora didn't reply, he continued. "Would you like to know more?"

"Y- Yeah. . ."

"The rules are simple, and there are three of them. Rule one: use intelligence, cunning and knowledge or you will die. Rule two: you may involve anyone you choose, however ultimately there can be only one winner. Finally: I will give you a riddle which you will answer by moving to the location the answer alludes to. For example, if the answer was 'book', you would go to the library. For each successive failure, your reward will be diminished appropriately." He paused for a moment as though to ensure it all sunk in. "You or I may 'pause' the game at any point in between riddles but once you have accepted one, you will have to see it through. Do you understand?"

Cora looked to the IV weighing down her arm. "I understand. . . But I have a question."

Another short electronic rasp filled the speaker. "I like you already. Ask."

"You say you have the answer to the infection. . . How do I know you're not lying?"

"I am quantifiable. I will never lie to you nor put you in a no-win situation. Unlike life, I am nothing if not fair. Your failures will be those of your own doing just as your successes will be."

She fingered the IV bag once more, looking down at it. Jennifer's cure might have been at the end of a very dark road but this voice on the phone, this. . . person. . . had that cure. Didn't he? If she was going to save the girl, she might have been staring her only opportunity to do so in the proverbial eye. "And if I can't answer a riddle?"

"I have explained that."

"No, you said my reward would shrink. . . What happens if I _can't_answer them?"

"Actions have consequences, miss Whitehall. Trite but true, even now. The choice, is as ever, yours."

"How'd you know my name--"

"You have other things to concern yourself with. Shall we play?"

Cora swallowed. She stole a glance towards the back room, willing Megan and Pat to come back out so she could discuss it with them and get a second opinion. He knew he had her. How could she possibly say no to this man? She swallowed. "C- Can I call you back?"

To her surprise, the Sphinx didn't speak right away, a soft clatter of wood on wood echoed in the background. When he spoke again his voice was more deliberate than before. "Do you believe in redemption, miss Whitehall?"

Cora winced inwardly. "I. . . guess?"

"Under the cash register is a switch, use it to open the till."

She tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she wandered over to the register and lifted it, finding the switch. The till slid out and a glass vial clicked against the plastic tray. Curious, Cora lifted it out and edged closer to the light from hole in the plywood so she could read the label. Her heart stopped for a second when she saw it. Phenobarbital. Her hand trembled as she tried to eek out a breath. To speak. "How?"

"You must wonder what they would do if they knew," the Sphinx said softly. "We are not so dissimilar, miss Whitehall."

"How--" she croaked.

"Opportunity seldom knocks twice."

"I--, I--"

"I will give you twenty four hours."

She opened her mouth to reply, unsure of what would come out. The line clicked off.

Cora stood in numb silence, staring at the vial. Her heart hammered against her ribcage yet her breath refused to come. How, how did he know? She had been careful, she had gotten away from Detroit and she had hidden herself well. But he knew. Was he going to tell them?

The back door clicked. Cora spun to face Megan who was in the process of shouldering her pack when she saw the 'reward' spilled across the floor. She looked at Cora.

She was going to know, she was going to know and they would turn on her-- Cora clenched her gloved hand around the Phenobarbital and jammed both hands in her pockets. Megan eyed her for a moment and nodded to the supplied on the ground. "Any of this good?"

"Y- Yeah," she barely managed to choke out. "All-- all good."

Megan stepped between the counters and past Cora. "Pack it, then, we found some water. . . Looks like Jen's getting a bath tonight." She didn't sound at all thrilled.