Fetch

by Hyper Atomic

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Human, Original Character, Adventure
Length: 8049

There are worse things than suddenly finding yourself as a Diamond Dog. Being stuck on a depopulated Earth is probably one of them.

"The truth is you don't know what is going to happen tomorrow. Life is a crazy ride, and nothing is guaranteed." -Eminem

That was never more evident than on the morning of May 23rd, the day everything changed. The day the Earth lost billions of humans. All of them, in fact, the few people left seem to be something entirely different now.

And I am no exception.

With human infrastructure failing and sapient life scattered across the planet, there's still a few things this old dog has to get.

[A Last Pony on Earth side story.]

Published 2015-06-23 04:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-09-25 01:36:00 UTC

Chapter 1: The Morning After

I never liked mornings.

Everything was far too upbeat than it had any right to be, whether it was the bright Texas sun, the saccharine demeanor intrinsic to anyone voluntarily up this early, or those insufferable birds! Every day they woke me up before my alarms ever got the chance, and that Saturday was no different. With how loud they were being, it was as if they had perched on the windowsill directly behind my bed solely to annoy me … like a bunch of feathery assholes.

Look, I don’t care if you think their songs are lyrical or soothing, but at that moment they only existed to deprive me of my Saturday morning.

I groaned, and the guttural cacophony that emerged surprised me. ‘Gods I sound terrible,’ my inner voice added, ‘I know I was up late but I sound like death. I better not be coming down with anything…’

A yawn stretched my jaw wide, not doing anything to alleviate my worry as I caught a whiff of unusually foul morning breath. That and my tongue and mouth just felt … wrong. I smacked my lips together trying to overwrite those last sensations but it only served to make them more alien.

For starters, my teeth weren’t meeting where they usually do, and I could have sworn my lower set were now jutting forward giving me an underbite. Exploring with my tongue only exacerbated the problem. Not only were their shapes bizarre, but my tongue curled and contorted in frankly unsettling ways.

My eyes snapped open, suddenly overcome by a mighty need for a mirror as I threw off the covers in a sweeping motion and swung my legs over the side. A move I regretted barely a half-second later while I tumbled to the floor with my shorts tangled up in my legs somewhere below the knees.

“Ouph!” I barked, landing face first on the carpet in an undignified heap. Wincing, I carefully lifted up my head and made to rub away the pain in my nose only to freeze when the whole room went dark. I gasped, quickly pulling my hand away in a panic as the light returned, leaving me staring at the culprit.

My hand.

It was massive, the palm was nearly the size of my face and capped with only four digits. Light blue fur was covering nearly every inch of it, trailing down my now massive forearm to the ends of my clawed fingertips.

My breath quickened as I continued to focus downward, eyes converging on the fuzzy blue mass capped with a black nose extending from my face. I could see the almost canine nostrils flare with every sharp intake of my lungs.

Blinking the floor back into focus I struggled to kick off my sleepwear, too afraid to look at what had become of my legs quite yet. The thunder in my chest could just have easily been a locomotive with how hard my heart was pounding.

With a final shake I finally managed to free my legs and promptly made a break for the adjoining bathroom in a rather embarrassing imitation of a crawl, but I didn’t care. I had to see.

The light scrape of claws on tile accompanied me as I grabbed hold of the counter. I steadied myself with the slowest breaths I could muster before shakily pulling myself into a standing position in front of the sink.

"This can’t be real," my reflection puppeted back at me. I looked like Popeye and Jon Talbain had spent a night together that neither science nor alcohol could fully explain. Two pointed ears sprouted up from the top of my head set amongst a tossle of dark blue-grey hair. The rest of me was covered in that same almost sky blue fur, save for small white accents here and there.

It was my eyes that startled me the most. There was nothing human about them anymore. The entire thing was a milky green without a hint of white anywhere surrounding a slitted pupil and a dark emerald iris.

The eyes of a beast.

I let out a weary chuckle as the corner of my muzzle turned up into a lopsided smile. “Good one, subconscious. I haven’t had a dream in years and you finally got me.”

The ape-dog in the mirror blinked back at me, content to smile along as I waited. Any minute he was going to look away and this would all be over.

It wasn’t me.

It couldn’t be me.

“I’m asleep in my bed, just waiting for my alarm to-”

Well, you know what they say, speak of the devil and he appears, or at least he’ll give you a call.

It had been so long since I had ever woken up to it that I forgot what it was. The grating tones of a warning klaxon filled the apartment as my phone began rattling violently atop the bedside table. My face paled further with every wail as the mirror was only too helpful to show.

In the same instant that my heart sank as it came to terms with how real this was, a new pit formed in my stomach. What if the neighbors came over to check on the noise? Was there any outcome there that didn’t result in facing animal control?

I swallowed hard, not waiting to even humor the idea as I spun around and leapt from the doorway towards the bed. Landing with a muffled thump, my upper torso scrambled for purchase on the bedsheets, tearing holes through the bedding as I pulled my way over to the source of the noise. It was almost unbearably loud now and I could feel my ears folding back, cowering, begging me to stop it.

With one final lunge, my paw swallowed the smartphone as I drew it close. Claws clacked against the touch screen as I fumbled with the pattern lock, but it was no use, even just swiping to silence it. My fingers were too big, my nails got in the way, and the fur wasn’t capacitive enough for the phone to register.

I glared down past my muzzle at the screaming Motorola. Technology was supposed to make life easier! Yet here I was, helpless, because I lacked proper fingers.

“They’re going to come, and they’re going to find me … like this,” I whispered, tightening my grip on the cellphone. “And then, that’ll be it for me …” I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands. This was it. The evening news was going to have a five minute segment on the mysterious mutant ape-dog found in an apartment complex north of Plano.

My ears didn’t even care that the phone was so quiet next to them. I was almost hoping it would make me go deaf just so I wouldn’t have to listen to all that silence coming from … from the...

I yanked the smartphone away, nose brushing against the screen causing two circles to register an incomplete pattern. Blinking, I slowly brought the device back up to my nose, shivering a bit at the touch. Carefully, I dragged it around in a star shape and the phone rewarded me with the soft click of a shutter as the home screen lit up.

10:02 A.M.

The clock widget continued keeping time as the adrenaline drained away through heavy breaths. However, I knew I wasn’t out of the woods just yet.

The soft flick of my new ears moving still wasn’t going to seem normal anytime soon, but I pushed the feelings aside as I held my breath. Waiting. Listening. I was afraid to move, afraid to breathe, afraid something was going to break the reverie.

Nothing.

The phone ticked over as the display registered it was now 10:13. I couldn’t hear anyone, even the birds had gone missing. The noise must have scared them off.

“Serves them right,” I growled, “Maybe next time they’ll let me sleep.” The fact didn’t escape me that for there to be a next time, I’d still need to get through this.

Turning the smartphone over in my now comically oversized hands I mulled over who I should call. The lab I worked at wasn’t active on the weekends, but I might have to call in sick if I can't figure this out by Monday.

‘Sick like a dog,’ I mentally quipped as my nose navigated through my contact list before it landed on Chris’ number. He’s been my buddy ever since college and believed in all kinds of freaky shit, even if I didn’t.

Well … I didn’t used to.

Holding it up high enough for my pointed ears was awkward, but not difficult. The phone rang six, seven, eight times before heading to voicemail.

“Hey, Chris,” I mumbled, trying to keep my voice from sounding unfamiliar, “I’ve got a bit of a situation, mind coming over to my place and lending me a hand? Give me a call, alright? … Thanks.” Ending the call with a quick tap, my tongue then reflexively wet my nose.

‘On the bright side, there’s a dare I won’t have any problems with anymore,’ I sighed before turning back to the phone.

After two more calls with no answers I was growing concerned, everybody kept their phones on them nowadays. After twenty more calls I was in disbelief. Something had to be wrong with my phone, but that nagging voice in the back of my head was reminding me I was still reaching their voicemail and therefore at least the phone network.

I called everyone in my address book. Businesses, family, acquaintances, numbers I knew that were wrong just to hopefully get somebody. Not a single soul answered.

“What,” the words tumbled out without thinking, “What’s going on?” Even my hands weren’t obeying me anymore, they just sat lifeless on my legs.

Yeah, sure, I still called them that. Unsurprisingly covered in the same light blue fur, they hooked around like those of a dog or other digitigrade animal. Clearly, I’d be walking on my toes for the time being. Finally, a cudgel like spiked tail capped the ensemble of my lower regions. Well, of the parts I was feeling well enough to examine.

There had to be something I was missing. I racked my brain trying to remember anything out of the ordinary from last night. I had cleaned up my workstation and desk as per usual on Fridays, then grabbed dinner and a beer at O’Reily’s before killing the rest of the evening on the computer. Except something felt missing. Something just on the tip of my tongue, either a name half forgotten, or a dream half remembered.

Something about … tunnels?

I shook away the lingering dregs of sleep. Whatever I had been dreaming about, it was gone now, not that it mattered. The bed remained in shambles beneath me. Scraps of blankets and torn sheets intermingled with ripped fluff and an almost comically exposed spring. My hands clenched as I tossed the phone aside. I had to go out. I didn’t care if anyone saw me, I needed to find someone.

Getting off the mattress was easier than the first time now that I wasn’t hogtied in useless clothing. I have to say moving about was easier than I thought it would be, but I would be lying if it wasn’t going to take some getting used to. The size of my new arms was enough that I could use them for support with only a slight forward hunch, almost like a gorilla. Almost, as my palms naturally flexed outward so that I could walk on them rather than use my knuckles.

It was possible to stand up straight and not use all fours, but took more effort to stay balanced now that I was without heels to rest on. My height had certainly taken a hit. Before, I was over six foot four, and now I would be lucky to still cross five, maybe five and a half if I was standing straight.

I was about to pull the front door open when it occurred to me that while I may be more or less ‘decent’ being covered from head to claw in fur, wearing something should at least help people see me as more than just an animal.

Unfortunately, with how huge my forearms were, the only article that fit was an old leather-brown button down vest I had gotten to complete a cowboy costume. It did, however, fit comfortably, have pockets, and almost looked … good on my new frame.

I shook the thoughts out of my head. I didn’t need to be worrying about looks or fit, just about finding someone to help me deal with this or get back to normal, because this certainly wasn’t.

With a heavy sigh I steeled myself, opened the door, and took my first tentative steps outside.

It was quiet, almost profoundly so. The entire apartment complex looked just as it always did, save the lack of residents. There wasn’t anyone washing their cars, visiting the pool, or cooking out on grill tops. The gates remained closed, not a single vehicle entering, leaving, or even moving within earshot.

Which was extremely unsettling, given that one of the main Texas highways ran just over a thousand feet away from me.

I had taken my apartment’s gate fob with me so I could get in and out. Once out on the street, the continued lack of cars and trucks set my skin on edge. Across the way I could see the plot owned by a local rancher. His cows were out grazing as usual, but there was no sign of his vehicle either.

The walk north to the overpass took longer than I had hoped as I was still acclimating to my new limbs, but walking on all fours was more comfortable than I had expected.

The freeway was empty, completely devoid of everything. I walked up the ramp and sat down in the center of the six lane roadway. A few scattered birds kept up the charade that everything was fine with their songs, but I knew better.

One of the busiest roads was sitting unused, nobody was answering the phone, and I was sure it wasn’t a dream.

Whatever happened to me might have also happened to everyone else, except shouldn’t I still have seen someone out here too?

Picking myself up, I left the freeway and took a detour through the nearby grocery store. The parking lot was empty minus one Ford, but I kept myself from getting hopeful.

Kroger’s sliding doors opened with their familiar squeak. Management never did get around to oiling them. The store was as vacant as I had ever seen it, only without the telltale clattering of cans or rustling of boxes being stocked. In fact, after wandering the whole store, the only thing out of place was a single stepladder next to a half empty pallet of toilet paper, the other half already on the shelves.

The rumble from within my fuzzy stomach reminded me it was probably near lunch and it was very upset that I skipped breakfast in order to freak out. I wasn’t one to steal, but I figured the universe owed me by this point, so I grabbed a package of beef jerky and one of the refrigerated sandwiches from the deli case and made my way home.

By the time I got back, I was done walking on concrete for the day. Shoes were already something I missed. I unloaded my spoils and unwrapped the sandwich before wolfing it down on the way to my desk.

“Okay,” I addressed myself through a mouthful of ham and cheese, “There still has to be someone out there because you’re still here. If it happened once, it can happen again, but how would I find them?” My computer purred softly in response, the dim blue glow of the suspended monitors giving me another option.

“Worth a shot,” I sighed, waking up my desktop with a nudge of the mouse. I was never fond of those who had to peck at the keyboard, but given the situation I didn’t have much of a choice. Not only were my digits over twice as big and capped with a serious point, but I was two fingers short of what I was used to typing with.

With long laborious keystrokes I eventually managed to log in and check my usual news sites. Nothing was out of the ordinary, no mention of nationwide pandemic, disappearances, or full on species shifts. There wasn’t even any new articles up for today, not ones that mattered at least.

Steam popped up, it must have just finished a system update. Rows upon rows of grey names littered my friends list.

All except two.

I scrambled into the chat room they were both in while simultaneously having a terrible time wrestling with my headphones. The best I could manage was a single earpiece canted over one side of my head before I managed to activate the voice chat. I only spent a moment dwelling on the coincidence that my own chat handle was Captain Wolf, in light of recent events.

"-figured they'd be white, and not … green," a soft voice continued as sound finally came online.

"Please tell me you're all real and not more of whatever Twilight Zone episode I've woken into." I interrupted them, holding my breath as I looked to see who I was talking to.

"Hey, Wolf. Yes, but hold on. Neon is being unhelpful.,” the voice belonging to the screenname Lightfox responded, “Neon, what the hell are you talking about? I'm gray." I wasn’t sure if it was the limited audio quality or what, but something was off in the way he sounded.

"No wonder dogs don't use headsets, Christ this is ... less than comfortable," I complained, more to myself than anything.

"Wait, what? Dog? You're a dog!?" Light sputtered, clearly surprised.

The first user finally spoke up again, "I'm lucky I managed to plug in my speakers because to hell with figuring out these headphones." Neon added, flatly.

"Okay, okay! One at a time.” Light entreated, “Neon, what the HELL are you?"

"... I am the last unicorn," Neon mumbled wistfully, " Or the first. Alpha and Omega … Something."

Something was definitely strange, and not what I expected. It sounded like each of them had ended up changed as well, but not into whatever I had become.

"Oh, sweet Jesus FINALLY!” a new small voice croaked, “I've spent all day running around town as some TINY-ASS LIZARD THING, but there's nobody here! Did I miss some sort of evacuation memo? Am I a horribly mutated radioactive freak? I'm going nuts here guys..."

"Hold up, so we are all seeing the same thing?” I asked, pulling up the window to see who had joined the conversation, “Aside from you guys I haven't found anyone ANYWHERE around here."

The new user’s handle was White, he continued in his unusually mousy tone, "I mean there's my cat and some dogs and like sheep or whatever but I mean bunkers can't really hold sheep."

"You know what I mean,” I growled, “People."

"Look, man, I don't even know what I am. I mean. Wait. Are you guys weird lizard things too?" He added quizzically.

"I'm, well, more like a ... dog ... ape ...thing?” My voice gradually became more unsure with each word.

Light clicked his tongue, "Nope, I'm some sort of bat-pony hybrid thing."

"... shit," I breathed. Things were sounding worse with each passing moment.

"I don't know if I can draw anymore like this." Neon chimed in, "I mean, I managed to use the computer, but-"

"Drawing?” I snapped, “I'm sorry to be the sledgehammer of realism at this point, but we all seem to be doing a bang-up job completely ignoring how royally screwed we are at this given moment, like ... CHRIST!" I slumped back in my chair, the weight of it was finally getting to me.

"I assure you I HAVE NOT BEEN IGNORING IT," squeaked White, voice climbing a couple octaves.

"Hey! It's not going to do us much good to panic. Panic can come later after I've finished backing stuff up," Light seemed to be maintaining an even keel at least, but who knows how long that was going to last.

“White, why is your voice so high-pitched?” Neon half whispered, “Mine feels … almost the same. What the heck?”

"I-... I don't know. I sound like a kid." He lapsed into a few seconds of contemplative silence. "... and I'm the same size as a kid..." Obviously, he didn't like where this train of thought was heading.

Light cut him off, “White, look, even if you are somehow younger, it just means you’ve had some more years added to your life. Don’t get all panicky just yet.”

"We need to focus, what we do know is we're still here, and obviously we're still US.” I added, or at least I hoped we were, “Has anyone else appeared on your contact lists? Mine are still dead as shit.”

“No, I've got nothing, and I’ve been here a while,” Light groaned, “The sun may as well be a brand on my eyes right now, so staring at my computer is at the upper limits of my usefulness at the moment.”

It was then that a fourth voice broke into the chat, "So, I took a walk, guys. Or I tried to. I'm not very good at it right now. You’d think it would be easier with four legs, but you would be wrong. So now I'm trying to discount all this as a dream. Because, frankly, if I keep having to use my mouth for everything and taste all the things our hands have touched, I'm filing a complaint with both reality and causality." Qesun had signed in.

"Oh thank god, Qesun! I was really starting to worry about you," Light continued, his demeanor had perked up considerably from when I first heard him, "As for it being a dream, have you ever been able to think this clearly in one? Anyway, if you do find reality's complaint department, please, please, please give me its address as well."

I rubbed my forehead as I let out a sigh, "That makes 5 of us, out of ... what? There are over a hundred or more greyed out on my contacts in steam, and you are the only ones I've gotten a hold of."

“Aside from you all, I’m not seeing anything…” Neon stated without any fanfare.

“Okay,” I began, drawing in a meaningful breath, “Assuming we ARE the last ones left of the people we know, what are we going to do about it?”

“Well first we get Neon off League,” Qesun joked, before continuing more seriously, “I don't know how many are missing, but I can't help but find the lack of noise from the airport or any of the roads a disturbing sign that the lack of people logged on is not just because it was a nice day to go outside. We've built a civilization for ourselves that requires a lot of support services that no longer have the staff necessary to maintain them.”

“Wait, this stuff can't support itself? ...That really sucks.” Neon brooded. He really could be oblivious sometimes.

"It can, Neon." Light corrected, "It just can't support itself for very long. The net will die within a three-day window, and the power grid will depend on location."

Qesun kept us on track, “We should pick a place to meet up before our communications fail. Getting there will be hard, but we'll have an easier time getting through this together.”

“Do you already have an idea for a meeting point? Also, if we were to meet up, what about White? He's over in the UK,” added Light. I had almost forgotten how far away some of them were … in light of recent events.

“... I don’t mind staying in the UK,” was White’s grudging response, “I mean I WAS supposed to catch a plane in a couple of days, but I mean, what am I gonna do, fly the damn thing myself?! I may as well just get used to being by myself instead of tormenting myself with the impossible."

"You want to speak of impossible? Look in the mirror." I grumbled, “This is impossible. The fact we still managed to contact each other should be, at best, improbable. As far as I'm concerned, impossible doesn't exist anymore."

“You’re … encouraging me to fly a jet. Completely untrained, and three feet tall.” White deadpanned.

“Yes,” Light replied quickly.

“You would rather sit on your aaaaa-butt and do nothing?” jabbed Qesun.

“No, White,” my voice rose, “I’m saying you’ll figure something out, though. The worst thing you could do is not try.”

“White, all my resources VANISHED,” resigned Light, “Any help that I could possibly be will be gone by this time tomorrow. This isn’t something that we can figure out. This one is on you.” I felt bad for him. Being stuck so far away with a much greater journey ahead of him was going to be rough, and not something I envied.

“... soooo, where are we going?” Neon reminded us.

We talked for quite a while after that, discussing where to go and what we should do. I don’t think anyone really wanted to stop. For a time it almost felt as if things were normal again, if it weren’t for the giant furred paws in front of me.

Through our conversation it became clear that we were not all in the same boat. While White and I had kept our manipulative appendages mostly intact, the other three weren’t so lucky. They described themselves mostly equine in appearance, though not without their own wild additions. Whatever had mixed up our genetics seemed to like crossing species together.

Most of the day was already gone by the time we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Honestly, there was no way to know if we’d ever really see each other again, but we had a plan, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to try.

They settled on Colorado Springs as our ultimate destination. It had more or less friendly weather, plenty of wilderness and rivers nearby, and something about a military base built into the mountains with all the communications equipment anyone could ever dream about.

The first step was to get there.

For my part, I was going to first head to Huntsville, Alabama and rendezvous with Qesun. I was an old hat at long distance travel and assuming the ride didn’t give me much trouble, it should only be around a ten hour drive. There, I’d help him out gathering whatever we needed for the rest of the trip up to Colorado.

I chewed my lip as I inspected my bag again. Balisong knife, jerky, cellphone, laptop, jerky, two bottles of soda, a flashlight, jerky, and a few extra pairs of shorts were all crammed into the black backpack. The thought of seeing people I actually knew might have given me a little more thought towards my appearance. Most of my clothes were still paradoxically both too large and too small to fit me, but I found a few pairs of shorts that I could cinch tight enough with a belt … after I made a few modifications to the backside for my tail.

The plan was to rest up and take off at first light, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about everything we had to do, and the shortening window of power we had left. My claws drummed against the the coffee table as I watched yet another television station’s programming run out. The grey and blue lettering, “Please Stand By” burned away on the screen in silence.

I tightened my grip on the pack before finally slinging it over my shoulder. There was no use in waiting. Everything was going to fail eventually, no reason to waste the services we’ve got left.

With one final pass through my apartment, I took stock of everything I was leaving behind. The furniture was inconsequential, as was the rest of the objects that littered what was soon to be yet another empty shell of civilization. It was the memories I regretted leaving.

That is, until a glint caught my eye as I was leaving the bedroom. Brushing aside the small pile of letters from family I had accumulated over the past month, I gently picked up the small straight jade pendant. It had been a gift from my parents for graduation, but I was never one for jewelry.

I wasn’t about to leave that behind, nor their memory.

The door slammed shut behind me as I left the apartment. I didn’t even bother locking the door. After all, if anyone else was left and they could make use of my stuff, they can have it. My paw momentarily held on to the pendant around my neck. I’ve already got what I needed.

The ride, however, was another problem.

My car was out of commission. I was supposed to pick it up on Monday from the mechanic, but by this point I was pretty sure he didn’t get a chance to work on it that day. It might have taken me a while to locate a replacement if I hadn’t remembered the lone pickup truck in the grocery parking lot.

Not sure exactly why I chose that one over the numerous cars and trucks still in my apartment complex, but on some level I think I wanted to leave that place as it was, as I remembered it.

In any case, the Ford Ranger was unlocked. It was an old truck, early nineties by the looks of it, with a bench seat and a cassette deck. Not only that, but the keys were just sitting there in the ignition. There was still a cup of cold coffee resting on the dashboard next to a half eaten donut.

It was as if someone was right there, and then …

I swallowed hard before tossing the coffee and donut out the window while sliding the seat forward enough for my feet to reach the pedals. “No time,” I growled, turning the keys to hear the rumble of the engine turning over. My huge paw completely engulfed the stick shift as I punched it into first gear, and I was off.

“It’s six hundred miles to Huntsville, I’ve got three quarters of a tank of gas, three bags of beef jerky, it’s getting dark, and I’m a canine.” I smirked, popping the tape into the cassette player.

“Hit it.”

Chapter 2: The Draft Horse

Texas is big.

That part shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, whether they live in the state or not. However, it’s one thing to say that Texas is big, it’s another thing entirely to know. With so much area, life tends to spread out. Huge swaths of country are set between cities and towns, not to mention the farms and ranches. By itself that’s not unnerving, but when you take those long stretches of highway and remove the one other source of human life, it becomes impossible to ignore. Without traffic, without any other moving vehicles keeping the roads alive with their lifeblood of headlights and internal combustion … it was eerie.

Rolling eastbound on I-20, I had never felt so alone. The rumble of the engine and the melodious voice of Bowie couldn’t keep the sense of loss from crawling up my spine, no matter how loud I cranked the stereo. I was the only one out there.

That wasn’t what I had planned for after graduation, but it’s not like anyone could have anticipated suddenly finding yourself as a new species while 99% of everyone you knew vanished in a single night.

Just … gone. All of them.

My left paw tightened around the wheel as I urged the pavement to fly faster underneath the Ranger. “No,” I whispered in argument to myself, “Not all.” My friends were still out there, in the same situation that I was.

The light from my smartphone momentarily illuminated the cab, reminding me that Shreveport was little more than 15 miles away. It was the first major city along my route, and the first one in Louisiana. It shouldn’t have hit me quite so hard as it did. After all, I had driven all over the midwest before, and even up north all the way to New York state.

However, as the sign passed by with its all too familiar script: ‘Now leaving Texas’, I couldn’t help but liken it to losing some small piece of myself. So much time was spent there, and I’d probably never see it again.

Never like it was.

An involuntary sniff caused me to blink, leaving a fuzzy haze over my left eye. I wiped it away with the back of my paw as I cleared my throat. There wasn’t time to reminisce, not when I had someplace to be, someone to get.

With a rolling motion I cranked the window down, savoring the highway breeze. I could feel my left ear flopping around in the wind, little bursts of sensation, twitching as it kept trying to right itself. Gradually, my whole head found its way outside the cab. The smells were overwhelming as the air tickled and buffeted the fur all along my face.

By the time I became aware what I was doing, my tongue was hanging out of the side of my mouth and Shreveport was visible on the horizon. My jaw snapped closed as I got my bearings, but for whatever reason I couldn’t bear to pull my head in. That beat just sitting inside a cab with my thoughts by a mile, no wonder dogs always seemed so happy when they did it.

The city was dead, just like all the little burgs I passed on the way. There were lights on, sure, but no activity.

No people, again.

There was a part of me that debated if I should look around the city for survivors as I pulled up to a dingy little 7-11. What if there was someone here? I mulled it over while hopping out of the Ranger. Surely there had to be others still out there, but what was I supposed to do? Knock on every door?

My brow furrowed as I huffed through my snout. Reaching back into the Ford I flipped the tape deck back on, cranking the volume up as much as I could. I figured if anyone could hear it, they’d come to me, but I had a schedule to keep.

The nozzle plugged into the fuel tank easily, and I only hesitated a moment before pressing the button to pay inside. In one night, money had lost all of its value. I absently wondered if we’d ever see it come back again, and then also if I would want it to. Lord knows it has caused its fair share of troubles.

“You’re getting a treat tonight!” I called over my shoulder, patting the truck on the wheel well. “Premium guzzoline, the highest octane money can’t buy anymore.” The handle clicked into position, filling the hungry tank without any further assistance.

A low gurgle brought my eyes back towards the artificial lighting behind the window glass. I was going to need more calories if I expected to drive all night. Calories and caffeine.

I stumbled forward, still growing accustomed to walking with forearm assistance. It was a funny mix of walking and crawling that wasn’t quite either, but it got the job done. Pulling the doors open, I stepped into the cavern of glass and electric fluorescence. The familiar hum of refrigeration and air conditioning permeated the space with a subtle accompaniment of motor whine from the roller grill.

Faint scratching from my claws followed each of my steps across the off-white floor, as if I needed more reminders of how different everything had become. A sigh followed, but I didn’t stop.

“Gas station hot dogs,” I licked my chops, “You’ll never change on me, right?” The heated racks continued to turn, oblivious to everything, which in itself was the answer I wanted. Their aroma carried a hint of char and grease, undoubtedly from spending the entire day rotating. I was reaching for the nearest one when I stepped on something soft.

Lifting my foot, I puzzled over the mushy mess beneath it. Leaning down I could see a hot dog resting on the floor near it only it was missing a bite.

My head shot up first, panning the room before returning to the discarded mouthful. Nostrils flared as I took in heavy breaths. I could smell the processed meat, the grimy floor covered in a thin veneer of cleaning product … and something else.

My nose was working overtime. What was that other smell? It didn’t belong, but other than that I couldn’t place it. Slowly, one paw in front of the other, I crawled around the racks following the invisible trail of the mystery scent.

Soon I was pushing my way through a partially opened door emblazoned with the now useless ‘employees only’ warning. The smell was stronger here, closer. Sure there were plenty of others too, but it was as if my nose could separate and keep track of them all independently. My fingers tapped their claws against the floor as I peered around, boxes and jars were stacked among shelving that had seen better days. The light was poorer here, but that didn’t affect me.

As I dropped back to the floor to resume searching, a loud bang yanked my ears to attention. Behind two rows of failing cardboard I caught a glimpse of the back exit swinging closed.

A short huff and my legs were responding before I knew what was happening. After quickly weaving through the aisles I slammed into the door’s push bar and slid outside. A soft rhythmic clattering drew me to the left as I followed after it.

“Hey!” I barked, “Wait!” Rounding the corner I found myself back in front of the station. The mystery scent had changed course as hurried clops echoed from the alley across the street, but something else had also changed.

I skidded to a stop and nearly fell over myself as my brain threw on the brakes. What was I doing? There was an acrid tinge to the smell that had grown stronger as I followed it, something primal, but it woke me up.

Blinking, I looked up at the alley again, footsteps growing more and more distant. My hands curled up around my muzzle like a megaphone, and I yelled the only thing that came to mind.

“I'm sorry! I-"

My ears drooped along with the rest of me as I faltered, "... I didn't mean to scare you."

Bowie had run out by the time I returned to the truck. Those cassettes didn’t hold that much music on them, after all. I had loaded up on snacks and soda, dumping them onto the passenger’s seat before climbing back into the cab. After that whole … incident, I wasn’t really keen on sticking around.

The steering wheel sat in leathered silence from between big furred paws as the events kept playing themselves over and over behind my eyes. Each time it was just a little bit different, exploring yet another ‘what if’ situation. My throat growled as I slammed my fist down onto the dashboard, but the empty heat of disappointment lingered in the back of my chest.

I turned the keys. There would be plenty of time for regret later, but not now.

There weren't any other eventful stops before I pulled into Huntsville. Not sure if that was because I subconsciously wanted to avoid a repeat performance or just my growing weariness as I relied more and more on caffeine and sugar to fuel my progress.

The worst of it was the morning sun. Day two of ape-dog-hood found me squinting into the breaking dawn as I barrelled eastward on the Alabama interstate. I don't know what it was, but that star was angry it was Monday.

Shielding my face with a paw while squeezing my eyes thin was just barely enough shade for me to make out the northbound exit amidst the radiant oppression. Mentally noting that night driving was far superior, I followed the last leg of my journey to my first compatriot.

Qesun

I had a vague idea of where he lived, street and house number were provided to me, but as usual the GPS got squiffy in certain residential areas. It was down to the old standard eyes, however unusual they may have been.

The door of the Ford pickup creaked as I leaned out the window, relishing the light breeze. I absently turned up the stereo, out of habit.

"Q!" I bellowed, scanning the surrounding homes for any sign of him. "Olly olly oxenfree!"

Sporadic yaps and barks issued from the area in response as I approached the end of the street. Nary a handful of houses were left. A small pit digging its way below my stomach wouldn't let go of the idea that I imagined the whole thing, that my brain made it up to avoid the concept of being truly alone.

"Quiet, you mutts!" My teeth clacked, growing impatient, "I'm trying to find ... Qesun!"

The last house on the row curled my face into a grin. It wasn't the garden, tastefully arranged, or the assertive barking whines coming from within it. No, it was the small purple horse-like friend sitting on his haunches in front of it.

As the truck rumbled to a stop he made his way down the yard towards me, but evidently he wasn't as used to his limbs either. The equine lost his balance to an unfortunately placed hoof and tumbled into a face first slide for the last five feet. It gave me a chance to look him over as I hopped out of the Ranger.

Purple and horse-like, the two attributes he mentioned about himself yesterday were undoubtedly true. His violet coat was a deep smooth hue, flowing seamlessly into the sleek cobalt blue mane and tail currently draped over his back and face. A yawn forced my eyes shut for a moment and they hesitated reopening.

By the time I had blinked them open, he was standing again. “Not exactly how we planned on meeting up.” he half mumbled, eyes trailing their way up to my face. “Hi, I am Qesun. I’m a horse right now. Please tell me you are actually Wolf and not just here to eat me.”

"Not unless you're into that," was what I tried to say, but as it came out around another pent up yawn it probably sounded more like a bear's mumble, teasing smirk lost among the caverns of my jaw. “But yes, Wolf, at your service."

I flourished my weighted arms out to the sides in a mock bow, earning a growing smile out of Qesun. His eyes were substantial, taking up a surprising amount of facial real estate. I would have commented how odd magenta was for an eye color, but given my own bizarre orbs his didn't even register. All in all, he was the picture of an adorable small horse, like you'd see in a cartoon, only real ... and soft ... and ...

I shook my head vigorously, I needed sleep. "Gods I’m beat," I swallowed, running a paw through my hair, ear twitching as I brushed against it, "I can’t believe how much MORE tiring driving is without everyone else on the road.”

“No idiots on the road to force you to pay attention." Qesun gestured towards the house with a tilt of his head, "I actually figured you were leaving in the morning. Not last night. I wasn’t expecting you until later.” His gait shifted as he walked back ahead of me. I could bumble along at an imitation of a crawl, but his leg structure was radically different from a biped now. He moved with care, acutely aware of each limb as he advanced toward the house.

“I got tired of just waiting for everything to fail, so I just took off. Night driving fueled by jerky and dew. Although-” my verbal train derailed as another substantial yawn pulled my jaws wide, tongue curling at the end as if my protruding muzzle wasn't canine enough.

“I may need to requisition your … sitting… thing.” My gravelly voice trailed off, doubly taken aback, both by how far I'd traveled up the yard and from having lost the word for the thing that goes in the living room with cushions on top ... that you sit on. The cogs ground to a halt inside my head, but my mouth finished the job. “... for unconscious time."

"I can help with that," Qesun nodded, reaching out for the doorknob with his mouth. That can't be fun, I mentally cringed, half imagining doing that myself. The yips, yaps, and barks exploded in volume as we crossed the threshold. “It’s right ove-” he struggled to be heard over the canine din. I'd long since learned how to deal with my parents dogs when they got rowdy. They just wanted to be acknowledged.

“Oh for the Love of Gog!" Qesun hollered, "Shut Up the lot of yo-”

"ROURF!" My throat bellowed, doing the best imitation of a 'woof' I could manage.

Sure enough, they all quieted down, even Qesun. I beamed a smile down at his curiously folded ears and paler face. "Dogs love me."

I let the backpack slip from my shoulder and onto the floor inside the entryway. Earthy scents danced at the tip of my senses, mingled with the waxy effluence of fabric, wood, and tile. The air was denser, like there was a weight to it but not at all oppressive. As tired as I was, I could tell this wasn't just a house. It was his home.

Was.

My nose twitched as the muzzle below it pulled into a short frown. How long had we spent making niches for ourselves in this world, places that carried more of us within their walls than we even realized? Leaving my apartment was nothing like this, like what we were asking him to do. My eyes followed Qesun, fuzzy patches welling up at the bottom of my vision.

“Yea, here, couches,” he stated, bringing me out of my reverie. Qesun waved a soft purple hoof at the large right angled sofa separating the living room from the rest of his house. “Sure you don’t want a bed? At this point, there are two spares open.”

I turned away, rubbing my face with a furry palm. "Nah, couch is the right prescription for now." My lids were like heavy shutters threatening to close as I took hunched steps over to the offered furniture. He waited next to me, head barely above my midsection. Somberly, I set my paw atop his head and gently felt his full mane for a moment.

"Thanks ..." was all I could coax out before falling forward onto the sofa, one arm trailing onto the floor. He muttered something in response, but the world was already fading. I’d pushed myself pretty hard to get here and there wasn’t anything left to keep me up.

“... Rest well.”

Author's Note

... I'm not dead, I swear.

Sorry for the loooong wait. I've had a huge personal change to adjust to. New job, new apartment, new state to live in, the list goes on. The original chapter was going to be longer, but I've truncated it so that I could publish something for you as I work on the rest.

With any luck, I'll be able to get back to regular writing soon! As always, thanks for reading!