Alaska (2)

Story by Gruffy on SoFurry

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#2 of Alaska (Thriller)

On a romantic trip to Alaska, Glenn and Neil are forced to face obstacles much larger than the need to rekindle some fire in their long-term relationships. A Gruffy adventure continues!


Alaska (2)

*


Hello and brrr, everyone!

Your comments have been very encouraging and numerous -wow! I'm so glad that so many of you enjoy a story with an actual plot in it, not that I diss my sexy writing, but still, it's especially nice to see so many of you taking the effort to read this, and you're not afraid of the topic matter or to leave me comments about the story - I am really happy! And perhaps that's why I was so keen to get this continuation out so quickly, too - do tell me how you liked it!

Have an interesting read!

*

"Take his clothes," Ivan said.

"What?" the jaguar on the ground yelped. He was looking at the polar bear with a grimace over his muzzle. The cougar in her expansive white fur coat just stared at the lake. The Rottweiler with the flashlight looked curious. The seated wolf's ears were flat. The fox was looking at the stern polar bear.

"Take the guy's clothes," the polar bear repeated, "you...whatever you're called."

"Are you talking to Neil?" the wolf spoke in his soft voice, looking at the bear curiously "That's Neil."

"Take them," the polar bear said. "You're not wearing a coat and there doesn't seem to be any spares around are there? You're gonna need it. You better take them right away."

"But that's...that's Casey..." the cougar said. "He needs them."

"He ain't needing anything anymore, lady," the bear grunted, "and we need clothes if we can survive this shit."

"The helicopters will come soon," the cougar said.

"I don't think they can come soon enough," the fox said. He knelt back by the otter and began the ghastly task of stripping him of his clothing, while the others looked on.

"Remember to check the pockets for drugs, if you find any," the jaguar snorted while he watched the fox's macabre dealings of trying to remove shirt sleeves from arms that no longer answered to any physical commands, "I wouldn't mind something right now to get the edge off."

"Shut up!" the cougar hissed. "He's dead! Don't speak bad of the dead!"

True enough, the fox stopped.

"Was he a drug addict?" he asked.

The jaguar snorted.

"He was a manager, I suppose they all are," he said. "Didn't see him take any, though."

Neil nodded and began to pat down the otter's pockets. The body was still warm underneath his fingers, and gave him an uncomfortable feeling.

"You're not seriously looking for some are you?" the bear asked incredulously.

The jaguar listed his paw.

"I claim first dibs, my leg is killing me," he grunted.

"Did you hit your head too or are you just a stupid fuck?" the bear grunted.

The Jaguar hissed and cursed in Spanish.

Neil put his paw into a pockets and pulled out items which he put down to the ground.

"Found cigarettes, and a cigarette lighter," he said, "that's a start."

Another pocket yielded an iPhone with its screen cracked. Paper napkins and a card from a New York hotel with a phone number scribbled onto it. A few bills and a folded boarding pass for a flight to Anchorage.

"Better not loose those," David said, "that's some good stuff."

Neil put them into his pockets and continued undressing the otter.

"I think that's enough for us."

"No coke for the pain," the jaguar shook his head.

"I'd suggest heroin for that, but... he doesn't have trackmarks so..." the fox breathed, "unless je injected between the toes or under the tongue..."

"Jesus Christ," the bear snorted. "You cut up junkies for a living or something?"

"I'm a vascular surgeon," the fox said, "My patients are usually fat, old and sick."

"What is a vascular surgeon?" the jaguar huffed.

"Someone who makes more money than you do," the fox replied.

The jaguar's ears flattened and his sneer deepened.

"You don't know much money I make!"

"You aren't exactly Mario Testino, I think."

"Now - "

"It's a quote from my favorite movie, The Fugitive, because that's the only movie with a vascular surgeon as a main character," the fox replied mildly.

"Harrison Ford's cute," the cougar said.

"Why the hell are we talking about Harrison Ford here?" the bear grunted. "I'm going to go and search the cockpit for anything we could use."

The bear began to lumber away while the fox finished removing the otter's pants, shirt and jacket. He wasted no time in putting them on, too.

"He really looks dead now," the cougar whispered.

"Shouldn't...shouldn't he be covered or something?" the Rottweiler asked.

"We don't really have anything, do we?" the fox replied. "Unless someone wants to volunteer something. I wouldn't recommend losing any pieces of clothing, though. This cold, with no shelter..."

"DON'T KEEP ACTIVE, YOU'RE DEAD IN AN HOUR!" the bear yelled from about fifty yards away.

"Is that true?" the Rottweiler questioned.

"I just know that it's fucking cold," the jaguar grunted.

"Let's see it, then," the fox replied, "I'm going to check you up again."

"Why?" the jaguar snorted.

"Because previously I only made sure you weren't choking or bleeding to death from massive cuts on your body," the fox said as he settled onto the cold ground by the jaguar, "I'm going to have to take this coat away for that."

"It's keeping me warm," the jaguar complained.

"You might have bigger problems than keeping warm if I don't check you."

"And if you find something and I'll go like Casey did?" the jaguar glanced accusingly at the body of the otter only a few yards away.

"Then at least I'll know I tried," the fox said.

He pulled the coat off the jaguar without a further permission. He hissed, and put his arms around himself to keep warm. It was immediately clear to anyone why he seemed to be in such discomfort. One sneakered foot seemed obviously twisted into an un comfortable angle. His tail wouldn't stay still, but instead kept bouncing around on the ground.

"I'll check you from head to toe," Neil told him as he put his paws onto the jaguar's crown," checking for fractures and bruises..."

"I know I've hit my head," the jaguar growled, "my cheek hurts like after being punched."

"Speaking from experience?" the fox asked mildly while he moved his thumbs over the jaguar's face. A touch on the left cheek brought a hiss and bared teeth.

"It's very tender."

"Fuck it, it hurts."

"I'm not sure if it's broken. Can you open your maw?"

The jaguar did so, briefly, to show an almost perfect row of teeth. One of them was obviously missing.

"Did you swallow the tooth or did you see it anywhere?" the fox asked.

"I can't remember."

"Bite your teeth back together."

The jaguar did so, though looking suspicious. Neil placed his palm against the jaguar's chin.

"Try opening your maw, I'll resist."

The jaguar did as much, and growled again. Neil soon let go. The jaguar drew a deep breath.

"That hurt!" he complained.

"You could do it, though, I could feel your jaw tense up, it means it's not broken," he said.

"Could've told you that."

"You're in shock, sometimes the pain is masked by that."

"I don't need to be told which parts of me hurt," the jaguar snorted.

"Just let him do it," the Rottweiler snapped. "Obviously he knows what he's doing!"

Neil put his paws onto the jaguar's shirt collar.

"I'll have to open your shirt to see if you have any bruises."

"Sorry, dude, I only let pretty girls feel me up," the cat grunted.

"You're an asshole, Ramon!" the cougar snapped.

"At least I'm alive, unlike your buddy Casey!"

The cougar started to cry.

"He was going to make me into a star..."

"When I get out of here, I'm only gonna be shooting Sears catalogues from now on," the jaguar huffed. "No more Alaska. I'll make exception for the Bahamas, perhaps, but nothing with snow...or ice..."

"Alright," Neil said, "like you said, I'd probably be unable to anything, either, if you did show signs of internal injuries."

He put his paws over the jaguar's chest. He grunted, and tensed.

"Ouch! Fuck!"

"Tenderness on the right side...possible broken ribs...though no flail chest, I think not..."

"Only my tail's flailing..." the cougar grunted.

The fox's paws moved, feeling the belly and the hips. Then they went down each leg, slowly, all the way along the left until they reached the end of the pants leg and the twisted ankle.

"I'm going to have to touch it," Neil said.

"I know it's broken, man."

"I don't see any blood...but I have to see it."

Neil pushed fingers into the pants leg. The jaguar's tail swiped him.

"Getoff..."

"LET HIM DO IT!" the cougar yelled to the jaguar.

Neil withdrew his paw.

"IVAN!" he shouted, using paws against his muzzle as a megaphone.

They looked towards the mangled wreck of the nose of the plane, out of which the bear suddenly emerged.

"WHAT?!"

"WE NEED YOUR KNIFE AGAIN!"

"Nooo nooo noo, you're not cutting anything!" the jaguar yelped.

"Just the pants," the fox said, "they have to go. HURRY, IVAN!"

"What's wrong with my pants?" the jaguar complained.

"I couldn't feel a pulse," Neil said, "I have to see if the circulation has been compromised."

"What does that mean?" the Rottweiler asked.

"The broken bones could be stopping the bloodflow into his leg," the fox said, "I have to see if that's the case and for that I have to get more access to the leg and the pants have to go."

The polar bear walked briskly across the treacherous landscape to bring himself over to the gathered crowd.

"You needed this?" the bear asked.

"Please," Neil extended his paw.

The polar bear seemed reticent to share his prized and by now, vital, multitool, but he placed it onto the fox's palm.

"I don't like the sight of that," the jaguar said.

"What's your name?" Neil asked, suddenly.

"Ramon," the jaguar grunted.

"Okay, Ramon, I'm going to cut the pants to see if there's any bones poking through your leg."

"Oh, God..." the cougar sniffled, "is Ramon going to die, too?"

"No," Neil said, "not if I can help it."

"You didn't help C-casey either..."

The fox pushed the blade of the knife under the pants and cut into the denim. It resisted, and the tugging on the fabric was obviously painful to the jaguar, but he was allowing it for now.

"I'll try to be really careful, you know," he said, "I've done this hundreds of times. I get called to cases like this all the time."

"If you're just telling that to...shit...calm me down, I'll sue you for malpractice," Ramon said.

"I think this situation is covered by the Good Samaritan Law," the fox replied, "but don't ask me more about that now...I can't find your tibial pulse. You've got a dislocated fracture of the ankle."

"I...I told you it's broken," the jaguar said, "couldn't walk out of the plane."

"Do you have to splint it or something?" Ivan asked.

"Yes," Neil replied. "But first it has to be reduced."

"What does that mean?" the polar bear questioned.

"I'll need help," Neil said, "David, Ivan...miss...Diane?"

"What the fuck are you planning?" Ramon yelled to the fox, looking wildly around the concerned furs around him.

"Your footpaw has lots circulation," Neil said, "it's cold and not getting any oxygen."

"I'm cold all over," the jaguar snorted.

"Well, if this goes on for much longer, your foot will be deprived of oxygen for so long that it'll turn black and start to rot while still attached to your body. I don't think you want to experience that."

Ivan stepped closer.

"What do you need?"

The fox glanced up to him.

"Besides Versed, fentanyl, a vascular Doppler, an X-ray machine and an orthopedic surgical consultation?" he muttered. "I need all your paws. And as for you, Ramon...do you have a wallet?"

The jaguar gave the fox an ugly look.

"What?" the cat hissed.

The others around them looked as surprised as he was.

"Do you have your wallet?" the fox repeated.

"You expect me to pay you now or something?" the jaguar's eyes narrowed.

"No, but I need your wallet," the fox said, "Or shall I take the otter's?"

"O-okay..:" the jaguar snarled, but did push his paw into a pocket to produce a brown leather wallet. It still felt warm against Neil's pads when he took it.

"Good," he said, "now, Diana...Diane?"

"D-Diane.."

"Can you sit down by his head and hold it on your lap?" the fox sounded almost soft.

"W-why?"

"It's just something we need to do to help him," Neil replied. "We have to do this. You too, David, Ivan."

The Rottweiler and the cougar stepped closer, looking unsure.

"Ivan, sit down on his right leg and take a hold of the injured like this," Neil said and gestured how he wanted the polar bear's paws to be, below the jaguar's knee."

The polar bear moved without questioning.

"And David, would you put the coat back on Ramon and make sure he's comfortable?"

"Okay..."

The three were soon settled, the jaguar cocooned in the warmth of the polar bear's coat and the sudden appearance of six paws on his body. The cougar's tear-streaked eyes looked down to the cougar's wild ones.

"I don't...I don't like this," he said.

"What're you doing?" Glenn asked.

"I'm helping Ramon," the fox told the wolf sitting nearby, "this'll be a while."

"Can I help?" the wolf asked.

"You just sit there," the fox smiled quickly to the wolf before he turned to look at the cougar again. "Now...right...the wallet."

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Open your muzzle," Neil said.

"Why - "

The fox stuffed the leather wallet into the cougar's open muzzle.

"Hold him!" he yelled.

The jaguar was too stunned to move, with the heavy polar bear on him, the Rottweiler leaning onto him, while the relatively small fox grabbed his ankle.

"And now, sorry, Ramon, this will be the worst pain you've ever felt."

"GMHMHMRHRHRHHH!"

He pulled, and for a while the muffled scream was the only noise that existed in the cold landscape. A few birds found it shocking enough to make them scamper from their treetop homes and onto the sky.

"...yes...keep him...!"

The jaguar squirmed madly, sent into a world of pain -

"UUUEH!"

"He's going to throw up!" Neil yelled, suddenly, "turn him, everyone, to the right!"

They moved clumsily while the cougar, his eyes rolling back to his head, retched, spat the wallet away and then suddenly vomited a brownish liquid that splattered onto the rocks by him.

"F--FUUUUCK!"

"Hit his back, David!" Neil yelled, crawling forward.

The jaguar threw up again, onto the ground, coughed, jerked, and then began to breathe steadily.

"Ff-fuck..." he panted, "fuck..."

"Keep him sitting up," Neil told him, "I'll check the leg."

"What the...ff-fuck did you do..." the jaguar grunted, spitting noisily.

"Saved your leg, I hope," Neil said. He'd moved back to where the jaguar's legs now laid still, once the polar bear had moved away from sitting on top of them. The cat's left sneaker laid on the ground nearby as well, having been removed by Neil during the moment of blinding pain he had inflicted onto the jaguar. His paws moved almost tenderly now. "And I can feel a pulse...and the pads are warming up. I think we're in the clear for now."

"G-gee, thanks," the jaguar growled.

"You're welcome," the fox said.

"Maybe I won't sue you now," he said.

"I've heard worse thanks," Neil commented.

"Is he gonna be okay?" the cougar asked.

"The leg will," Neil mused as he stood up, "we need to get out of open ground, though. The wind could pick up at any moment."

"It'll kill us in minutes if it does, especially if it snows," Ivan said, "heard it happen. Seen it almost happen, too."

"What do you do, exactly?" Neil asked.

"Diesel generator repairs on the oil fields," the polar bear said, "been up north a lot."

"I...I work in oil administration," the Rottweiler said.

"My condolences," Ivan rumbled.

"We can all sit around a camp fire and trade tales of the real life later," Neil said. "We need a fire now."

"I...I was in girl scouts..." Diane said.

"That's probably better than I could do, then," Neil said, "I'll give you the lighter."

"I've got a lighter too," David said.

"Don't waste the gas!" Ivan yelled, sounding horrified when he saw the Rottweiler flick up a powerful flame from the lighter in his paw.

"Sorry," the Rottweiler's ears flattened.

"We're not getting anywhere just sitting here," Neil said, "need to go back to doing what we were meant to do...before..."

They tried not to look at the otter, still lying there on the cold ground.

"I'll check the tail," the Rottweiler said.

"I'm going back to the cockpit," Ivan said.

"I'll...watch over Ramon," Diane said.

Neil rubbed his dirty paws onto the otter's pants that now were on his own legs.

"And I'll go give my boyfriend a hug."

*

Thank you for reading! See you soon for more exciting times in the cold depths...how will they survive?