FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Voyager: Chapter 2

I could tell by how the inside of my eyelids were becoming darker, night was approaching. Crane had said that he had a place close by and I didn't doubt him, the reason why it was taking us so long was that I was a blind bumbling idiot who had to go and get his face pounded in by a Picasso that was made of people and also managed to get his arm broken and into a sling. Crane had to help me every step of the way. A half destroyed mega city that was once home to fifty million people had a way of leaving lots of junk around to trip on. Cars, parts of buildings, clothes, just about anything, but the dead. The people who died during the initial attack or those who just fell from exposure and starvation during the following months were carted off. Occasionally you would find some mummified or rotting corpse of someone in a building where the aliens couldn't get them.

No one knew where the bodies were taken. When someone died, one of the lumbering brutes came by and took it. I was a curious man, always was. It was for that reason I was out on the streets. I was following one of them. I still don't know what to call them, I guess I'll call them collectors since that's what they do. I have yet to see them do anything else, but that or attempting to do that... collect us.

I spied a collector carrying a body on its back. This one was shaped like a soup bowl and had somehow gotten the body of some poor sap into the divet and was hauling him down towards the still smoldering commercial center of the city.

It seemed that the aliens didn't have a love for skyscrapers or anything over ten stories. The once kilometer high buildings that dominated the skyline and towered everything were quickly brought down to size. A lot of people died during the first hours of the attack. A falling building usually causes damage, but when hundreds of floors come crashing down, it flattens things for blocks.

I was home, near the more industrial side of town when the tallest building in the city, the Hawthorne Medical Terra Headquarters came down. I felt it come down, the entire city shook, hell the entire state of New York shook. At first I thought that it was an earthquake even though I had never heard of one hitting the east coast. I turned on the news to see what was going on and was met with the sight of a large black ship hovering in low orbit over the city. Then, more and more images came up of similar ships over other cities. Burning cities.

Fire rained from the belly of the ship into the heart of each of the cities and soon the power went out. There's not much to say after than that. I stayed home, hiding and ignoring the screaming that I could hear filtering outside of my apartment. I was lucky that when the ship made a sweep over my home, the low and sturdy profile of the brick building I lived in kept me alive. The entire foundation shook with each blast and I had taken cover under my bed. The walls cracked, my kitchen disappeared into the street below at some point and when it finally stopped, there was nothing but the sound of flames.

It wasn't long before the collectors came. It was only a few hours after the initial bombing that the screaming started up again. I looked out the hole where the kitchen was and there were thousands of them, scouring the streets below, flooding into buildings and pulling out anyone they could get, dead or alive, in bits or whole, it didn't matter as long as it was human. There was another interesting thing, they only went for the humans, us, not the birds or event he bipedal dogs that you would see every once in a while. Not that there were many of them to begin with.

They were more of curiosity to most normal people. The unlucky people who were caught in the initial release of the mutagen by Louis Josten five years ago in 2344 were turned and that was that. There were some psychological effect and rumors of super powers, but in reality, they mostly physically changed. Any damage to the person's mental state came afterwards. The news began to report how, even though there was a conscious effort by most people to help them integrate, it was estimated that as many as 30% committed suicide. That didn't leave many left.

Those who did stick around eventually found peace with their new lives. There were of course some racist movements, but those kinds of people were largely suppressed by people who were tired of all of the conflict, which was damn near everyone. This paved a way to equality in record time. I had even heard about one of them going up through the ranks in the newly formed Conglomeration of Earth, a government that was responsible for handling all disputes that took place in space and it took place of NATO which was pretty much nonexistent minus a few people here and there.

Makes me wonder where the CE was when the aliens came. They had a big fleet full of powerful warships and yet I don't ever remembering seeing them. They weren't there the day the cities of Earth burned, nor were they there when I decided to go following that one collector.

I slowly and quietly followed him, always staying behind the numerous amounts of debris that littered the streets. It didn't notice me, it was too busy just moseying along with what I could now tell was a half rotted corpse of a man. A red striped tie hung limply around his neck that was barely holding onto the head. A shiny wrist watch that glittered whenever the sun, was dangling around his wrist, it looked expensive. At one point he was a respectable man, probably had a good job and money, lot of good that money did him.

It was slow going. Every obstacle that would have been difficult for me to get over was pure agony for the collector. Due to its bow like shape, the arms that lined around the rim had a hard time grabbing onto anything to lift it over any hindrance. This forced it to circumnavigate any major road blocks, whether it be a fallen building or a pile of cars.

I don't know when, but at some point I was spotted. Should have figured that I would be spotted. The collectors were no longer filling the streets, but there were still enough for one of them to see me. The noise it makes when it sees a live person is surreal. It's like an elk trying to laugh at a bad joke. Anyway, it saw me, cried out and came at me.

Let me tell you, the one I was following couldn't get over a fallen stroller, but this one could run and run it did, right at me. I was stunned by the sight of a big, jiggling, fleshy bowling ball with arms coming at me. It was like a wreck, you shouldn't stare, but you can't help it. The way it used those hands as legs and all of those random appendages just... I don't know... they all just jut out of it at random intervals and angles.

That awe I was in didn't last long. I turned and ran. I ran and nearly died in the end. At least I was lucky enough to have Crane save my life. I couldn't see him, but how bad could he be? He loved to talk and didn't seem to mind that I was as hopeless as the bowl shaped collector at walking down the street.

"There's going to be stairs now." Crane warned. I didn't care. When you're blind and tripping over everything with a broken arm, the few hours that it took us to get to this point was an eternity.

"How many stairs?" The day of tall buildings were over, it couldn't have been very far up.

"Five flights." He said. "Don't worry, there aren't any banana peels for you trip on." He was making fun of me for slipping on what he said was a banana peel almost as soon as I stepped out of the convenience store. Banana peels had turned to dust some time ago so it was most likely a fresh pile of crap from some stray and he was just being nice.

I rested a hand on Crane's shoulder like I had been doing the entire way over. I noticed he wasn't that tall and that got me thinking about what kind of dog breed he took after. I didn't ask, it just felt rude. Like asking a woman her age.

We went up the stair rather fast. There wasn't much garbage so it was just a matter of marching straight up and turning whenever Crane told me we had reached the top of a flight.

"Here it is." He guided me over a few steps and opened up a creaky door. "Casa Del Crane. Since you can't see, I'll have to describe in great detail for you."

I walked in and was met with a rather pleasant odor of the lingering remains of actual cooked food. I had lived off of canned meats. All of my perishables were eaten first so they wouldn't go bad.

He led me to what I imagined were random spots around the area. "This is the living room. Do take note of the rare leather couches and the sliding glass door that leads to a balcony which has the most splendid view of the dumpsters below." He then turned me around, guiding me with paws on my shoulders. "And over here is the kitchen. All marble and mahogany of course with gas burners."

"Gas?" I asked. "Gas stoves along with most other things that used gas was outlawed decades ago." Something about an energy crisis that had struck the world when the last known natural gas reserve ran dry. Led to all kinds of mayhem and the governments of the world began to horde what they had left. Luckily some Swedish scientist discovered the secret to fusion energy. Although they were big and very expensive, in a few short years, the crisis was over.

"Yes gas." He exclaimed loudly. "Only the finest of foods can be made with the decomposed remains of prehistoric creatures. Speaking of food, I'm famished. You?"

My stomach growled at the idea of food and the smell didn't help either.

"I'll take that as a yes." He set me down on "leather" couch, which actually turned out to be leather.

"Holy shit, you weren't kidding." I felt the slightly bumpy surface of the couch. It was nothing like I had ever felt. Sure, cows were still used to make leather, except that all of it was bought up by the rich.

"I never lie. Except for the gas and the dumpsters. Ran out of gas a long time ago and the dumpsters were crushed on the first day by the building next door."

"How loaded were you?" I could only imagine what the rest of this place must look like. Fancy paintings, crystal chandelier and... What else did rich people have? Chocolate. Chocolate cost just as much as gold these days. None of the colonies had the right climate for it, so we still relied on South America for that.

"Not important." He said and opened up the fridge. I could hear the hum of it.

"You have power too?" Every second I was with this person, the more I wanted to stay. He seemed to have everything.

"Yep. Got a power generator set up in the other room. A micro nuclear reactor, good for another decade."

"Jesus." It was just too much to take in.

"The only thing that gets me out and about is the need to find food. That's actually how I found you in the first place. I was heading to that convenience store in the first place when I heard your girlish shrieks.

I reddened in embarrassment. "That wasn't girlish."

"Whatever, it sounded pretty girly to me." He began to chop up our dinner and put something in a pan. The sizzling of it was heavenly and the smell of frying meat filled my nose.

So." I said trying to change the subject. "Am I the first person you've come across?" Thought the city felt empty, I had seen others occasionally. Never tried to talk to anyone though, I was too afraid to talk to others. I would merely watch them go by as they went about their business.

"About two weeks ago I came across a nice couple. I had them over for the night and even invited them to stay. As you know, I've got guns and the means to survive for a long time. Though they refused politely and left. Said they were heading north to Canada to get out of the city. Other than that, no." His voice dropped at the end. I was the only person he had seen in nearly two weeks and judging by his behavior, he was the kind of person who thrived on social interaction.

"Hope they make it."

"Yeah I hope so too." Neither of us spoke after that. He finished cooking and I merely listened in anticipation for some real food.

"Hold out you hand." I did and a plate with a fork was put into it. He sat next to me. "So, what's your story Liam?"

"Um well." I cried inside at having to talk some more instead of eating. "I worked at a water sanitation plant in the industrial sector. Not a great job, but it paid the bills." I actually hated it. The smell alone was bad enough to make a grown man cry and I had seen plenty of newbies cry on their first day. No matter how many fans you put into a building, the smell was always there.

"How about family?" He asked. At least he wasn't getting any food into his belly by asking me these questions. The smell wafted up my nose and I was tempted to not even answer.

"Well, I'm a single child and both of my parents passed away a long time ago. A few years back I met..." I stopped at the thought of my wife. The image of her face flashed into my mind.

"Met who?" He pushed.

"No, nothing." I said and took a bit out of the food. The rich of flavor of beef and onions was diminished by the sour taste that was already in my mouth.

Crane got the message and stopped asking questions. We ate in silence. The hole where a tooth used to be was finally noticed. It would leave me ugly, but compared to the collectors, I was nowhere near the ugliest.

I felt bad, he took me in and fed me while and I was paying him back with one awkward moment after another. I needed to get the conversation started again.

"What kind of guns do you have?" I had seen the collector pretty much blow up and only something big, and probably illegal could do that to a body.

"My good man, have you ever heard of a .50 caliber rifle?" His normal, outgoing tone returned instantly.

It sounded familiar. "I think so. Isn't a caliber the size of the bullet?" Now days, ammunition was only described in millimeters.

"Yes." He quickly answered. "Long ago, the .50 caliber was the biggest gun that could be fielded by infantry. Only if you could see it."

"You'll have to show me once the swelling goes down." I suggested, not all that interested anymore, but said it anyway to keep the flow of the conversation going.

"Just you wait. It's deadly up to a mile away and with these straight streets and my impeccable aim, nothing is safe from me." He was gloating now. It was comical when he got like this. I just wish I could just see him, being blinded sucked.

Dinner was saved and we talked until both of us were barely awake. Crane, despite my protests, let me use his bed, while he slept on the couch. He literally lifted me off my feet and put me on the bed. I had no choice but to comply.

"You're injured and need rest." He scolded my like a child. "No more arguments." He walked out and shit the door behind him.

I got out and stripped down to my boxers. It was tricky with my arm, but eventually I got my shirt off. I wasn't about to soil what was most likely a feather pillow and blanket with my bloody clothes.

I slowly settled into the bed. I sunk into the mattress and my head was engulfed in pillows. This man, knew how to live the good life and if I stuck around and did my part once I was healed up, we would live through this. I was sure of it now, though the question was; how long was this going to last?

I fell asleep pondering that question.