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Escaping the Storm

Part 1

"Come on, what in the gods is taking so long!?"

Erik spun to the gap in the dreary warehouse's towering racking, frozen to the spot by the nasally roar of his supervisor rising to the skylights above.

"The shelves will not stack themselves!"

He peered through the bars of his stock trolley to see the bulky wolverine stomping down the gangway towards him. "S-Sorry, Ivan."

"That is only the second cart!" Ivan stopped just short of the recoiling snow leopard, growling up at him from chest height. "There are three more for you to get through and already it is the afternoon! Do you think you are paid to stand around and relax?"

"No--"

"There are many people out there looking for a job who can come to do yours."

"I know, but--"

"Oh, you wish to answer back? You have a reason for why you do not work as fast as is needed?" He slapped a paw against the metal mesh comprising the tall cart's side, his face like thunder. "Everything here must be cleared and on the shop floor by the end of today, understood!? You are not hard to replace."

"Understood..." Erik fought to keep his tongue still, watching his superior march off to disappear into another gap in the vast wall of stock. "...You dick."

Without care for any co-worker that might have been within earshot, Erik slammed his paw to the grocery-laden trolley, violently heaving it from its space and off across the busy warehouse.

The cold, depressing storage area gave way to the bright bustle of the supermarket's shop floor via a set of double doors. Erik struggled to disguise his annoyance from the crowds of customers, but couldn't keep a scowl from his face.

"Hurry, Erik," he grumbled under his breath. "Do everything, because Ivan is too busy bossing people around to actually work. It doesn't matter that you've only been here a month, you must know where everything in the whole store is located..."

Erik slalomed his way through the store's aisles, only getting more irritated by the inattentive shoppers blocking his path with either their trolleys, or themselves. Thankfully, he resisted the urge to bundle anyone aside with his metal stock trolley, making it all the way to far end of the supermarket without issue.

Finally able to bring the heavy cart a halt, Erik allowed himself a moment to catch his breath beside shelving units filled with various kinds of canned produce. A happy smile began to spread across his white-furred muzzle; something that seldom happened away from this particular aisle of the store.

Ignoring the huge boxes full of tinned food on his trolley, Erik lowered himself to investigate something far more interesting. A gap in the stock arranged on the shelving allowed for a perfect view of what lied beyond it: the scaled-down version of a supermarket functioning beyond a protective pane of reinforced glass.

In this separate area sitting roughly waist-height, the smaller residents of the city of Kremensk, not much taller than the tin cans around him, could go about their business without the need to be mindful of their larger neighbours.

Time on the shop floor began to dissolve and fade away as Erik watched from his vantage, ever wary of keeping hidden from the Polcian shoppers milling about, oblivious to his presence. After all, not everyone here appreciated sharing their city, their country with these smaller people, even some of those close to Erik himself. With that in mind, he pulled away from the shelving slightly, not wishing to unnerve any Polcians that might prove less trusting of a native Velikan.

"It'd be better if this shelf wasn't here," he muttered near-silently, indifferent to occasional customer knocking his long, slender tail as they strode past behind him. "It's for the best though, I suppose, with all that's happened lately."

In that instant, one particular Polcian caught his attention, turning onto the small aisle running adjacent to the clear barrier between them. A brown-furred ferret tugged a paw-sized version of Erik's stock cart behind him, donning the same dark green polo shirt and black trousers that comprised the company uniform. Even the dour, disgruntled expression he seemingly held over working here matched that of his larger colleague's; an expression only emphasised by his sagging shoulders and scruffy fur.

"Poor guy." He watched on for a few more moments, focusing upon the slim ferret lugging case after miniaturised case off of his cart. At that point, he stepped back, realising that he should be doing the same. "I guess we're not so separate after all."

"By the stars," groaned Viktor, the big elk clattering open his locker. "What a day."

"You're telling me, 'Veek-tour'," Erik snickered from across the cramped, grimy locker room, mocking the strong accent his friend and colleague had brought with him from Velika's rural east. "My paws are killing me."

"Baby," Viktor snorted, tossing his work top straight into the smaller snow leopard's face.

"Hey, I used to be on my feet a lot back at my old job, but hauling these carts around all day is hard work!"

"Ah, you will get used to it. It has been what, a few weeks?" He slipped on a loose-fitting white shirt, proceeding to begin fastening its buttons. "It took me two, three months perhaps. Now, it is nothing."

"I look forward to that," Erik replied, hurling Viktor's work shirt back at him.

"Maybe then you will cheer up? Laugh and joke like when you started here?"

"I do that plenty."

Viktor finished buttoning, folding his thick arms with another snort. "Making fun of my accent does not count as this."

"Does it not?" Erik smirked back, leaning against the rows of lockers that housed his own. "In that case, I wouldn't count on it. Not unless by some miracle this job becomes enjoyable."

"I have doubts that this will ever become interesting."

"So much for that, then."

"Seriously, it is difficult to understand how a person can cope stacking shelves after training as a tradesman."

"It's easy. When there are no carpentry jobs out there, when hardly anybody is hiring and when I cannot afford not to work, it becomes not so much of a problem to cope with being here. Enjoying? That's a whole different question."

"You could not have gone to school instead? Finished your training there?"

"Like I said, I need to work. Studying at school wouldn't pay the bills like my apprenticeship did... and somebody has to." Erik grumbled loudly, pushing away from the lockers behind him. "After my friend lost his shop, and I_lost my job, I was stuck. I had nowhere to go... except to this shitty, joke of a job when it finally came up..." He looked to Viktor with widening green eyes. "Sorry, I don't mean to make _your job sound--"

"Do not worry!" the elk boomed, chuckling as he slammed his own locker closed. "I know only too well that this job is bad. After all, I have had more than a year stuck here to realise this."

"You really hate this place as much as me, huh?"

"Perhaps, but it is still better than staying back home in Arkatov, where all there is for work is to pick fruit or to plough fields. I am just hoping I can make supervisor, then perhaps department manager before I lose my mind."

"You'd make for a far better supervisor than Ivan, that's for sure... the pompous little prick. I get enough of being moaned at at home these days."

"It is good to have your vote of confidence." Viktor flashed a grin, stuffing his work clothes into a small duffel bag. "For now, it is Saturday, it is six and I am thirsty. Join me for a beer?"

"I'd like to... but I need to head home. Thanks anyway."

"No problem." He gave a short wave and started towards the door. "See you Monday, Erik."

"See you... 'Veek-tour'."

"Quiet, Spotty," Viktor grunted, antlers scraping the doorframe as he disappeared into the hallway beyond.

"Monday..." Erik sighed heavily, alone now in the depressingly tight, musty changing area. "Another day...week of... this."

Not wishing to linger at work a moment longer than necessary, Erik changed from his uniform in record time, shoving it into a backpack and charging away with just as much urgency. He marched down the corridor towards the staff exit, barged open its metal door and rushed straight out into the bitterly cold, blustery night that greeted him.

The alley at the rear of the supermarket sat drenched from that afternoon's lashing rainstorm, brickwork either side of it funneling the icy winter winds that cut straight through Erik's jacket.

"At least it's not snowing," he murmured, adjusting the bag on his back before shoving both paws into the relative warmth of his pockets. The glowing lights of the city shone through the gloom, their reflections shimmering in the puddles scattering the concrete underfoot. "Roll on, Spring." Erik started off down the alley, traversing the standing water on his way to the street and subway station beyond.

A sudden squeal carried through the air, small but certainly audible. It shocked Erik to a halt, the shallow skittering that followed pulling his eyeline downwards. He focused through the darkness, watching a tiny figure flash across his path and make a frantic beeline for the gap between two large, plastic waste units gathered against the supermarket's wall. 'A Polcian?'

He looked to the bustling lights of traffic a short distance ahead, shifting to continue along the alley. Curiosity stopped him though, tugging his attention back to the ground beside the big, blue receptacles.

"Hello?" Erik crept towards them, taking care not to step on anything, or anyone, that might rush unexpectedly from cover. "Is anybody there?" He peered into the opening, but found only blackness.

Another gust of harsh, teeth-chattering wind blasted through the alley, snatching Erik's breath away and prompting him to wrap his long tail around his midsection. Still, he couldn't bring himself to walk away. "To see a Polcian roaming around here... alone, on a night like this... This is weird."

Hoping for a better look, he paced cautiously to the end of the gathered waste units, carefully moving to get a glimpse into the narrow space hidden behind them.

Another terrified squeak rang in Erik's ears, imploring him not to get any closer. Cowering there, squeezed into a damp, dirty passage barely wide enough for him to fit, stood the same slender figure that had rushed by moments ago.

"Hey... I know you."