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No Chance Chapter 22 copyright 2017 comidacomida

All of the fury, anger, and rage that had been welling up in Daryl disappeared the moment he finally registered that David had been reduced to a smear along the rooftop. What was left was not the kind of empty void he'd heard often accompanied the resolution of such a grudge, rather, he was stuck in a limbo of indecision, caught between action and inaction and 'do' or 'do not'. David was gone, but his affect on his life with Courtney couldn't have been more alive and pertinent.

The Panther turned his gaze to his fiancé only to encounter her stare coming right back at him; it was evident that she was just as struck as he. Courtney spoke first. "Did he really just give us the password to stop this?"

Daryl nodded mutely, his mind still awash in the turmoil in his moral crisis; he knew the right thing was to turn off the transmission and save millions (if not billions) of people from having their genetic code altered. There was a much more pragmatic, self-serving part of his mind that clung to the thought that a few dozen animal people were monsters but a few dozen percent of the population being animal people were a (possibly protected) minority group. It was a stretch, he knew, but when he thought about his future, and the future of his child, it was a leap of faith that he was unable to stop considering. "I guess we can take a look, at least..."

Courtney followed him over to the console and both blocked the glare on the monitor with their bodies. Courtney pulled the keyboard out of it's slot beneath the monitor and Daryl watched her hit the space key several times; the cursor moved in response to the input. She looked to him for guidance. "It's not locked."

The Panther's whiskers twitched in frustration; David wouldn't make it so easy-- it was a trick of some kind. A trap? Did the conniving traitor really leave the choice up to them? Would he have done something so fatalistic to risk it all after working toward on the singular end goal? Daryl had always prided himself on being honest with Courtney, even when it meant revealing all of his shortcomings, vulnerabilities, and flaws. "I-- God, C-nee... I don't know what to do."

She spoke quietly, eyes never leaving the monitor, and the numbers counting down; they reached 1:02 by the time she'd said her piece. "I'm worried, Daryl... what will the world become if we do this? What'll happen to all of us if we don't?"

He saw the way her hand rubbed her abdomen when she spoke and, in that moment, his decision was almost made-- almost. "We don't know if-- I mean-- th-the baby might be human..."

Her eyes finally migrated to meet his and he saw the hesitance in her gaze. "And if we have a... a.... not-human?"

Daryl reached out and rested his paw against the back of her hand. "If we stop this then we can hide. We'll do whatever we need to. As long as we're together."

Courtney freed her hand from his grasp and brought both of them up to rest on either side of her head. "This can't be our choice... it's NOT our choice. If we let this happen then we'd be making the decision for everyone out there. That would make us just like David. We CAN'T do something like that!"

He realized she was right, and he didn't need to second-guess that feeling. He slid his arm around the small of her back as he reached up to the keyboard; the monitor read '0:36'. "Even if the world is against us as long as I have you I'm complete."

Daryl felt her tense up as he moved forward and typed in the password. It was ironic that the password 'Future For Us' was so open ended when their decision created so many roadblocks for them. He carefully pressed each key and looked at the countdown, which reached '0:16' once 'futur34us' appeared on the screen. The Panther looked to the woman by his side and, nodding to one another, they each placed a finger on the ENTER key and, together, they pressed it. The countdown stopped and the screen went blank.

Letting out a deep sigh, Daryl's breath got caught in his chest as a video replaced the blackness on the monitor. He immediately recognized it as the interior of the office David had appropriated for his own during their stay at the installation. The Ferret entered view of the camera, taking a seat at his desk. Daryl exchanged a glance with Courtney and both looked back to the monitor and David raised a paw in a casual wave and offered a plastic smile. "Daryl and/or Courtney, I'm so glad you decided to input the password I provided. Without it you never would have seen this message."

Courtney fidgeted. "So... we stopped the countdown, and Davi--"

The Ferret continued speaking, heedless of her words. "So, you will note that the countdown is no longer active, and for that I commend you on your selfless-but-misguided view; you're both true martyrs... unless one of you chose to use the password and you weren't in agreement-- something like that can end even a strong relationship."

Daryl felt his claws unsheath and, despite David not actually being there, the Panther still growled "Fuck you, weasel..."

David's recording continued. "I suppose that it is time I elaborate on the situation... you see, this message is to provide reassurance that you did everything you could do to stop me so you do not have to feel any shame or self-reproach when you find out that you failed."

The statement hit Daryl like a ton of bricks, and, at first he wondered if he'd misheard the recording. Courtney's response was much more direct. "We stopped the countdown! What does he mean we--?"

The recording of David speaking rambled on despite the objection. "I promised that inputting the password would stop the timer-- which it did. That is why this recording is being played. What it didn't do was stop the disbursement."

"What?!?"

Daryl honestly wasn't sure whether his roar or Courtney's scream was louder, but the recording paid them no mind. "The moment I activated the release protocol the procedure began... all the countdown did was identify when the atmospheric discoloration of the seeding would be visible. You should be able to see it if you look up at about 5'o'clock... go ahead... I'll give you a few moments to take it all in."

The fur on the back of the Panther's neck started to raise; he turned around slowly, finding it difficult to leave his back to the monitor. He lifted his eyes skyward and saw exactly what David meant: the mostly cloudless sky was marred in one area with a greenish tinge-- a slight discoloration like a red wine stain on a dark colored carpet. Courtney moved one hand to her abdomen again as the other one sought out his paw and gave it a squeeze. The recording continued from behind them. "You should be proud that you were willing to sacrifice your future for people who would never appreciate it. Please take comfort in knowing that you did absolutely all you could do."

Courtney turned around with a wordless, emotional scream, slammed her fist into the monitor. The picture distorted as the screen cracked and a section of the video went out, the rest coming in unclear and through static; Daryl was more concerned with the smear of blood left on the glass and he quickly interceded, wrapping his arms around his fiancé. She fought him, but only for a moment, burying her face into his chest as she cried.

Her words were muffled but, despite that, their common language meant that he understood her meaning clearly: she was angry and felt violated that David had played them for fools not once or twice, but three times. He understood completely; they'd been used in so many ways by the sociopathic Ferret. It only got worse after Courtney fell silent and the final words of David's recording announced "Given time, I am sure you two will be fine. I wish you luck in your new life, and I hope to see you at your wedding."

Daryl had to grab hold of Courtney again as she made to lunge at the monitor, but it was Fred's grunting statement that calmed her down. "Guess he wasn't that much of a psychic after all. No wedding invitation for Agent Roadkill."

Snapped out of her obsession with the recording by Fred's interjection, Courtney immediately about-faced. Daryl let her go so she could run to the Bear's aid. "Oh my god, Fred..."

The bear snorted. "Yeah... I got shot. I'm a big target."

Daryl moved to join them, hazarding one more glance back toward the monitor in time to see the Ferret extending an arm toward what the Panther assumed was the off-button on the recording camera. His focus returned to Courtney and Fred when the Bear roared out in pain. "DAMN! That's my SHOULDER, woman!"

Courtney had immediately taken control of the situation; Daryl found himself smiling when he realized that she was keeping herself calm by managing what she could. "Stop moving-- right now it's more a fur sponge full of blood than it is a shoulder."

Fred grunted in response. "It's not that serious. Relax."

She didn't relent. "I don't think flesh wounds bleed this much."

Daryl approached the situation physically as well as verbally, offering Courtney a fresh piece of cloth as he spoke. "Well, to Fred Bear's credit he has a lot of flesh so the wounds probably look worse than they are."

The Bear snorted. "Yeah-- Fred Bear-- cute. I thought we got past that, black-guy, who's also a Black Panther."

The humor helped diffuse the situation-- a little at least. Courtney simply sighed, shaking her head at their verbal jousts as she tried to bandage the numerous holes. Daryl was confident that Fred would be alright; the small arms fire from the clones were all weak weapons and it would take a lot more than that to stop a bear. He was more concerned with what had happened one floor down. "Courtney-- is Abe alright?"

She sighed helplessly, having little luck in making the right kind of bandage and instead settled for balling up some cloth and pressing it against two close-together bullet holes, then tied it off with a longer bandage. "Abe is okay... he's with Rex."

Daryl was careful in how he asked the follow up question. "He's... taking it hard?"

Courtney shook her head. "No. Rex is alive. Abe brought him back."

The Fox's voice called from the ladder. "I just restarted his heart is all... he's recovering okay."

Abe was covered in blood up to his elbows with several splotches on his face; for a moment it reminded Daryl of a nature documentary. Courtney, wasn't given nearly as much pause. "Abe-- Fred's hurt."

The bear snorted anew, rolling his eyes. "I've just been shot is all."

She pressed the issue, even as the teenage Fox pulled himself over the lip of the torn roof and trotted over. "Yeah... like... twenty times, Fred!"

Abe knelt down and accepted a pawful of bandages from Courtney. "well, it doesn't look that bad really. Rex is downstairs recovering too-- we really should see about getting everyone back there so I can-- where's David? What happened up here? The stairs are blocked so I--"

Fred interjected, motioning casually with his muzzle "David's over there, and spread out all along there."

Daryl seized his chance to speak up and get in a more important bit of information. "Abe... David set off some kind of disbursement device to spread the mutagen over a third of the earth. Do you think something like that'll actually work?"

The Fox spoke even as he bandaged the bear. "Well, if it's the same stuff that affected us it's hard to tell-- I mean, if it--" He fell silent when everyone's eyes settled on him. "-- I-if David went this far then I'd have to assume that it would... yeah."

Courtney got back to her feet and made her way to the ladder. "Then we really SHOULD get back inside. We don't need anyone changing anymore than we already have."

Abe rose and stepped back from Fred, who, grunting, stood up. Rather than following Courtney to the ladder he proceeded toward the satellite console. "All signs point to the mutagenic properties only working once-- we should all be immune. Besides, we need to send a message to the FDA, right? We should tell them you're all okay and warn em about what David did."

Daryl gazed over the horizon to the south where the green haze continued to spread across the sky. "We might be too late to send out a warning..."

Abe glanced up from the console and looked in the same direction. "I... think that's right around Los Angeles."

Fred snorted, limping toward the destroyed stairwell. "Well, we should get the word out anyway... warn people."

Daryl moved to join Courtney and helped stabilize the damaged ladder for her. "It's probably too late to help, but I agree. Think you can figure out transmitting something there, Abe?"

Abe nodded, paws flying across the keyboard. "Well, other than some damage to the monitor everything looks okay. It's not really made to transmit in that way but I'm sure I can figure out something in Morse."

Daryl looked down to Courtney, who was just stretching out a leg toward the open window. "Close yourself up inside just in case. I'll be down in a minute."

Once he saw that his fiancé was secure, the Panther went to assist Fred, who was working to free up enough of the stairs to pick his way through the rubble and get off the roof. They finished just as Abe came back to join them. "Alright-- I have a message on repeat. No telling if anyone's monitoring the local SHF channels but if they are and know Morse Code then we should catch someone's notice."

After saying his piece, Abe moved to the side, circling the rubble once, then again. He rubbed the side of his face in thought and came to a stop, one arm wrapped around his body with his vertical arm's elbow perched on it as he held up his muzzle "I think there may be a snag down where the stairs turn at the first landing."

Fred hefted with both forelegs, moving a large piece of collapsed concrete and Daryl stepped in to hook his paws underneath it, adding his strength to move it. He grunted as he spoke. "Anything-- ngh-- you can do about it?"

Abe nodded. "Foxes are natural tunnelers..."

No sooner were the words spoken than the teen scrambled between two hunks of rubble. His legs kicked a few times, claws scratching against the scree as his tail wriggled back and forth and, in the span of a few seconds Abe had squeezed into the small opening and systematically worked his way out of view. Fred growled, heaving again, and the large piece of concrete flipped over and off of the stairwell; the underside had a huge smear of bloody flesh and fur still clinging to it. The bear either didn't notice or didn't seem to care. "Whadda you think some little Fox'll be able to--"

Fred didn't get a chance to finish his question as all of the remaining rubble suddenly began rumbling and then, with no further warning, began to drain down into the stairwell like grain falling down a funnel. Dust rose up out of the opening and, as he waved the particles out of his face, Daryl saw Abe clinging to the corner of the stairway out of the path of the descending rubble; the Fox held a single piece of dented rebar. Once they locked eyes the teen held it up. "See? It was just like one big game of KerPlunk."

Rather than wait around to carry on a conversation, Fred made his way slowly down the stairs, carefully picking his path. Daryl followed him down, admiring how far the bear had come since his transformation; Fred had horrible trouble at first with stairs. Once the two passed Abe the Fox stepped in line behind the Panther. Daryl glanced back at the intern. "I didn't figure you'd know that game. How do YOU know about KerPlunk? I played it when I was a kid-- it came out before MY time."

The Fox shrugged. "They still make it. My folks got me all sorts of games and stuff-- educational perception stuff like that and Jenga and Mahjong."

From ahead of them the bear let out a gruff 'ha'. "Mahjong... haven't heard that bein' played in AGES."

Abe puffed up, brushing off concrete dust from his fur as he continued along with the group. "Oh-- it's really popular all along the coast-- LA, San Fran... usually in China Town areas, but still, it's a good game if you like that sort of--"

Fred cut the conversation short. "I don't."

Daryl exchanged a glance with the Fox, summing up the situation clearly "He was shot... probably not in the game-playing mood, Abe."

From up ahead Courtney called, cutting the discussion short. "Abe? Rex's still bleeding through his bandages!"

Rather than push past everyone, the Fox nimbly sidestepped Daryl and then, at a running sprint, folded his front leg down and under himself as he fell back onto his side, literally sliding beneath the trotting bear, offering nothing more than a simple "Scuse me." as he did so. Abe went from a slide back up and onto all fours, turning toward the door from which the call came even as he slid along the linoleum of the hallway and seamlessly changed direction at what Daryl probably would have called a four-legged jog. Fred came to a stop and looked back at him. "Between the digging through rubble and the whole acrobatic thing, kid's getting good with his new body, eh?"

Daryl shrugged, following after the bear to the door Abe had entered; the Panther closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath when he realized that his heart was still beating rapidly and his claws were still extended. He envied Abe's ability to adjust so well. Exhaling, Daryl entered into the room. Courtney was standing next to a cot; it was occupied by Rex-- the four legged Rex. Abe was already by their side inspecting the bandages wrapped around the dog's chest and shoulders. Walking slowly to join them, Daryl asked the simplest question out of the dozens going through his mind. "How is he?"

The dog's tail began beating against the cot and, before Abe could answer, Rex did. "Daryl? Hi, Daryl. Daryl smells a lot more like Daryl now that Rex can smell right again, Daryl."

The Panther blinked, stunned that he could understand the dog. Fred spoke up from behind him. "Hmm... he can still talk."

The wagging intensified. "Yes, Fred! Rex can still talk and can understand Fred too, Fred!"

The levity and the excitement in Rex's tone was evident in all ways; Daryl wondered how he was able to be so upbeat after being shot but, he reminded himself, Rex was Rex, and little more needed to be said. Dogs, he remembered hearing had the capacity to be far more upbeat than the average person. "I'm just glad you're okay, Rex."

The wagging slowed, and a faint whimper emerged from the Dog. "Rex hurts. Rex is happy Courtney and Daryl are not hurt, Daryl."

Abe looked back to Daryl and Fred. "From what I can figure, Rex still has all of his mental faculties, but there's a breakdown in translation for pronouns, so if it sounds like he's talking weird--"

Rex's tail started up again. "Rex does not talk weird, Abe-- Rex talks like Rex always talks, Abe."

Courtney giggled faintly and Daryl saw that there were tears in her eyes. She stroked the dog's head gently. "I'm just so sorry you got shot, Rex... you shouldn't have been hurt. I'm so sorry that it happened to you at all."

Rex whined softly, raising his head so he could lick at her hand. "Courtney, don't be sad Courtney. Courtney is not hurt and Rex is a dog again. It is good to be a dog again, Courtney. Being human is really hard, Courtney, but Rex likes being a dog, Courtney."

Fred grunted. "He sure uses names a lot."

Abe shrugged in response. "From what I can tell it's another side effect of the universal language-- I think our brains are delineating the subject of his directed statements and also referencing his--"

Rex's ears perked as he rotated his head toward Abe. "Abe, did Abe get shot too Abe? Abe is talking funny now, Abe."

Despite himself, Daryl ended up laughing. He wasn't the only one either; the entire room broke out in a fit. Rex didn't seem to mind; his tail continued wagging the whole time. Abe checked on Rex, then focused his attention on Fred, who remained a grouchy bear, but let his wounds get tended with only minimal objection; the banter continued regardless. It was the most pleasant moment of the day and, as everyone quieted down, Daryl hoped that there would be more opportunities for the same. There were some, but an hour later the FDA arrived.

* * * * *

The metal chair that the agents from the FDA had provided for Daryl while he waited in the interrogation room was one of the folding kind that had a large opening in the back; the fact that his tail was not cramped up against his spine was the only thing not uncomfortable about it. He was waiting to be debriefed, that much he knew, and, despite the handcuffs around his wrists and the muzzle strapped to his head he continued to try and convince himself of that. It had helped that the first person the extraction team encountered was Courtney; she was able to keep them from being TOO aggressive.

Courtney-- Daryl hadn't seen her since they had been separated by the heavily armed agents who rushed the base. Fred, who had already been injured from the gunfight with David and the Thomas Grants had been 'deescalated' by several of the extraction team's tranquilizer rifles. While Daryl wasn't too familiar with field ops he knew that most assault groups preferred non-lethal weaponry and that, fortunately worked to the bear's benefit. Abe had been walked out in restraints along with Daryl but he lost track of the teen as they were sent to separate areas in the field office for 'processing'.

The Panther hadn't heard what happened with Rex or the veritable zoo of Division Six (and Five) employees from the lower levels but he assumed that the Federal Drug Administration's task force had spent ample time clearing the base. Of course, he didn't know precisely how much time had passed because the room had no clock-- or windows-- or any news about what was happening out in the 'real world'. The last point changed however when Agent Jeremy Rhodes walked in; Jeremy was the first Agent that Daryl recognized.

The tall, red-haired man set a file down on the table across from Daryl and, adjusting his neck tie, opened it up. "You claim to be Daryl Rodgers?"

Daryl nodded, fighting the raising of the fur on the back of his neck. "I already said. Yes. Daryl Rodgers, Agent #446232 from the Sacramento Office. My desk is in your division-- third row and two from the right."

Jeremy flipped to the next page, nodding as if distracted. "So you said, yeah. That kind of information could be available to--"

The Panther worked hard to keep the growl out of his voice. "Your wife's named Katy. The two of you had a wedding in Napa three years ago. You couldn't stop saying how much you hated the color she chose for her brides maids' dresses."

The statement got the first real reaction out of Jeremy that Daryl had seen. The man looked up from the file folder, closing it as he slowly took a seat. "Shit, Daryl... it really IS you, isn't it? Everyone back at home office said your entire squad got pulled."

Daryl scoffed; 'pulled' was an agency term for field teams that didn't make it back alive. The Panther gave a jingle to the cuffs chaining him to the table. "Nah... just holed up in a compromised Division Six installation, and now locked up here. Didn't that last agent give you my debrief?"

Jeremy let out a sigh, loosening the tie he'd just tightened. He leaned forward, his expression turning to complete 'no-bullshit'. "To tell you the truth, Rodgers, everything's sorta fucked up back at Central."

Mimicking the sigh, Daryl likewise leaned forward. "How many changed?"

The question caught the senior agent off-guard in a way that was visibly obvious. He tried several times to provide a counter-statement, but, in the end, all he managed was an unconvincing "What do you mean, Daryl?"

It was another twenty minutes of debriefing before Jeremy finally provided the Panther with the keys to his restraints; Daryl took notice that the man hadn't volunteered to get close enough to open them himself. Once he was released, the Panther motioned toward the door with his muzzle, after removing his muzzle. "So... am I free to go, or what?"

Jeremy took a step back, possibly to get out of attack range, and stated "We need to keep you here for monitoring for a few days, but you can go anywhere on the floor, sure."

Daryl's next question was more important to him than objecting. "Is Courtney here?"

The red haired man nodded, firming up his tie again. "She's in the lobby. Out the door then to the right. I hope you understand why we had to keep you separated while we--"

The Panther pushed his way past with a curt "Yeah. Sure. Water under the bridge."

Daryl went out the door and took an immediate turn to the right. He padded down the hall until he saw a set of double doors propped open; beyond them were the scents of various easy-to-fix, greasy foods but, more importantly, the scent of Courtney. Back before everything began they had been about to get married but, thanks to a convoluted plan by a rebel agent and a world-altering agenda by a twisted organization they had no change to exchange their vows.

They had moved from being sequestered in a secret installation to being in 'quarantine' of a sorts. Daryl didn't know what was coming next but seeing the smile on her face as she looked up and saw him made it all okay. Whatever had happened before meant nothing. The world in chaos meant nothing. They were safe, and that meant everything.