When Kassur woke up that morning, nothing could have prepared him for the events of the day. He’d thought the worst thing he’d deal with was a late work order, or maybe some asshole trying to get a discount for repairs. Now, still reeling from the encounter with an Alpha, he let out a big breath and slumped down, not caring that his pants got drenched with the water still pouring from the drain pipes.
He came back to his senses slowly. Being shaken gently by Kev and another store owner from the stockyard.
“There’s people coming,” Kev whispered in his ear.
Behind him, he could hear some of the survivors trying to scramble away from the ramp. And then there was the thunderous steps of heavy steps coming down.
The DAIR enforcer team came down the ramp like a new type of storm.
Six of them in total. They were fully armored, armed, helmets with visors down.
They moved in formation, fanning out through the remains of the stockyard. Kassur blinked as the spotlight of a rifle fell on his face. He had Morty’s limp weight on his arms, both of them soaked to the bone. His knees hurt. His ankle was swollen from a bump he didn’t realize he had up until now. He clutched the cat a bit tighter. Not daring to let go. Not yet. Not until someone in authority took Morty from him and said he’s going to be fine.
“Back against the wall! Everyone” Barked the one that looked to be the lead officer. He still had his helmet on with visor down. “Keep your hands where I can see them! No sudden movements!”
“What the hells!” One of the butchers snapped.
“We are victims here” someone else shouted.
There were multiple sobs and some cries for help.
Another vendor, a woman with blood splattered across her apron, held her arms up and stepped forth, eyes wide.
“My daughter’s under one of the counters,” she shouted. “She’s not moving. Please!”
“You’ll all be seen by medics. But we clear the site first.” Snapped the leader guy. “No one moves until hostiles are accounted for.”
“She is… underwater…” the vendor sniffled and Kassur’s heart sank. He did electrify the water.
The leader sighed and reached up, finally opening his helmet, revealing himself to also be a jackal. Grey furred, with a broader snout and nose than kassur. Deep brown eyes.
“Simone, Lucas go check that,” he said, nodding to two enforcers. “Everyone else stays put.”
The two large officers peeled away and moved fast, lifting the collapsed counter with a grunt. The vendor let out a loud exclamation and started to heave and sob.
There were murmurs, groans of pain, and building resentment. The mood was like a keg of powder with a very short fuse. Fear giving way to frustration.
“We need help, not a goddamn lockdown!”
“I’m not staying here to be interrogated while people are bleeding out.”
The leader lifted his radio and loudly spoke into it: “Let the medic team come down. Also call for a mini bus”
While they waited for that, the DAIR officers held the perimeter with clinical detachment, eyes always scanning, guns half-raised. The risk hadn’t passed, and everyone in uniform acted like someone might still jump out of the smoke with a cleaver.
Within minutes, three medics arrived with bright green uniforms, white heart insignia on the chest, flanked by two more armored enforcers. They waded in immediately, triaging the wounded even while being shouted at from every direction.
“Keep your hands up. No funny movements” the grey-furred jackal leader barked.
He was tense. Too tense for the moment. Eyes sweeping the wreckage as if enemies were still waiting. The few still alive panicked animals shuffling around didn’t help.
Kassur swallowed hard. “He needs a doctor,” he managed, voice thick.
“You’ll both get one,” the other jackal replied, gesturing to two others moving behind him.
“He’s one of you.” Kassur added — a hint of disdain.
That got their attention.
A stocky mongoose medic holding a scanning tablet and a tall, tired-looking, zebra enforcer rushed to him. The mongoose waved the scanner over Morty, getting a loud ping and then fished out the badge the cat had put inside one of his coat’s pockets.
“That is one of ours, alright," she said.
The zebra enforcer behind her unclenched slightly, lowering his rifle as the mongoose kept checking on Morty.
"Pulse’s weak. Breathing unstable,” she muttered, opening one of Morty's eyelids and testing the pupils with a small flashlight. "He's crashing."
“Yeah… he, uh… used something,” Kassur began, then hesitated.
The mongoose snapped her fingers. “Get him tagged. He’s the one that activated the badge, that’s a DAIR protocol priority level four.”
The jackal enforcer glared at Kassur. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner.”
“Because you are waving a gun around,” Kev snapped before Kassur could stop him.
“You got a problem with that?” The question came from the zebra enforcer. The guy squeezed his rifle a bit tighter,
“No one likes to have guns pointed at them,” Kev replied.
“Kev. Shut up!” Kassur hissed.
Kassur watched as the mongoose pressed a stethoscope against Morty’s chest, then to his neck, checking his breathing. The other medics rushed to check on more people.
“Our guy here is still alive. But we will give him transport priority.” She said that putting a comforting hand on Kassur’s shoulder. Then she turned to the other jackal. “Louie! He sounds bad. Real bad.”
She fumbled with her medical kit, grabbed a plastic box, cracked it open, revealing a syringe filled with red liquid.
“This’ll try to stabilize the effects of the stimulant the guy used, until he gets treated at the hospital.”
“Morty,” Kassur mouthed.
“What?”
“His name is Morty.”
“Hun, there are lots of injured people here and I can spot a few dead. The names’ll slow me down.” She gave him another tap and a sympathetic smile before moving on to check up on more people.
Someone else came and talked to Louie. And he growled. A deep thing. “Alpha contact? Are you sure?”
“Yes. Some of the other people are confirming that Varro was here. He went down the tunnel.”
“Crap.”
Louie grabbed a radio from his belt and spoke through it, covering the base with his hand, so Kassur couldn’t understand what was being said. His expression soured, and he was actually ready to punch someone when he put the radio away.
“Listen up, folks!” He shouted. “Varro was here. We are gathering all the enforcers available and trying to go down the tunnel and see if we can trap him there or take him down.
You are going to get you and your men killed, Kassur thought, not daring to say it.
“Medical team, take everyone and evac. Other survivors, you’ll need to come for questioning.”
There were several people protesting and demanding to be let go.
“This is for your own safety and non-negotiable.”
=================================
Another team came in. Two wolves. One started marking survivors using blue bands. “You, over there. Sit down. Don’t move.”
“What’s going on?” Kev asked. “Are we safe?”
“You will be,” one of the wolves replied with calm detachment. “Just follow instructions.”
That’s when Kassur noticed. They weren’t just helping people. They were separating them.
Predators to one side. Regulars to another. Tagged. Scanned. Quiet questions asked. Notes taken. Eyes darting from one wounded body to the next.
The mongoose gestured toward Morty. “Don’t you worry. We will get your friend here to a hospital straight away.”
One of the newcomers brought a pile of stretchers, and the mongoose asked Kassur to bring Morty. She quickly strapped the black cat to one of them. Someone stepped in to carry Morty up.
Kassur clutched Morty’s coat tighter. “I’m going with him.”
The mongoose looked up. “You’re not injured enough for critical care.”
“I don’t care.”
One of the wolves stepped in, raising a hand. “Sir, we’re taking everyone in for questioning and decontamination. You'll have your turn.”
Kassur stepped back, eyes wide. “You’re treating us like prisoners.”
“Like survivors,” the wolf corrected coldly. “In a city that just had a possible alpha breach.”
Morty was carried up the ramp and Kassur felt the cold in his bones return.
They took Morty from his arms.
“Where are you taking him?” Kassur asked again, louder this time.
No one was paying attention to him anymore. They were already moving.
Kassur’s heartbeat began rising in his ears, louder than the boots on wet concrete, louder than the hiss of the static-laced DAIR comms.
Don’t separate us. Don’t leave me here.
A hand touched his shoulder. He flinched, but it was Kev, the weasel. His fur had darkened from smoke and water, snout crusted with dried blood.
“Easy, Kass,” Kev said softly. “You’re okay. They’re just taking him up for care.”
“He’s not okay,” Kassur whispered, throat raw. “And neither am I. They’re splitting us up. Why are they splitting us up?”
“They’re not splitting you,” Kev said. “You’re going too. Now let's go to that corner there before this guy here gets trigger happy with his finger.”
“Yeah, just go to your fucking corner.”
Just then Kassur noticed the zebra guy was still next to them, a hard expression on his face, nostrils flaring. He had been giving orders that the jackal hadn't been listening.
Some of the medical team trotted alongside the stretchers as they carried the injured up the ramp. One of them was no more than a kid, no older than eighteen. Blood-soaked shirt, a big slashing rip along his shoulder, and another on the leg.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Yeah, some people were having it worse.
“You’ll be reunited with your friend at the hospital,” the enforcer said flatly. “Priority goes to critical cases.”
“All right,” Kassur replied between gritted teeth.
He and Kev moved in with other survivors to a relatively clean part of the stockyard while the DAIR folk finished clearing the place. At one point he felt the weasel bump his side.
“Listen to me,” Kev said, bumping him again with surprising strength for such a wiry frame. “You kept your head. You stopped that hyena guy. You helped the cat. That’s why we’re alive.”
“Thanks Kev.”
“No. Thank you, Kass.”
Kassur’s jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached. His fists curled. But Kev wasn’t the only one watching him now.
Other vendors stood nearby, bloodied, bruised, shivering, but alive. A ram with a broken horn gave him a nod. A butcher wiped ash from his apron and met his gaze. A young leopardess, arm wrapped in torn cloth, whispered something to her partner and looked toward Kassur like he was something between a miracle and a mystery.
“You saved us,” one of them said. Quiet, yet firm.
“Dios… You really did,” muttered another.
Kassur’s throat tightened. He looked away, back toward the ramp where Morty had disappeared.
After a few minutes that seemed to stretch forever, a fox enforcer gestured to them. “This way. Secondary evac.”
They led him up the ramp with the others, the whole group climbing in slow, uneven steps like people waking from a nightmare. One of the wolves stayed behind, shouting coordinates into his headset. Another enforcer carried a riot shield ahead of them, eyes scanning for movement.
Kassur couldn’t stop himself from eyeing the uniformed figures they passed with suspicion. Were they leading them to a clinic? Or to a cell? Old fears and distrust bubbling up.
He didn’t know. And he was in no mood to question.
The first sublevel came into view as they climbed up the ramp. And on the streets there were temporary barriers keeping civilians away. Two small buses waited as well as a small contingent of enforcers putting on combat gear.
Those guys were going to go down, after the moose.
No ambulances. Probably already departed.
They were unceremoniously guided into one of the buses, and told to please remain calm.
Rather than being built for comfort, the bus was designed to haul squads of enforcers in and out of riot zones. Now it rattled with civilians. Vendors. Survivors. Bloodied, bandaged, half-soaked, and all of them exhausted. At one point Kassur sighed, thinking he would need to make his way back to grab his motorcycle.
The jackal sat stiffly on one of the steel bench seats that lined the interior walls, his back sore, shoulders locked. The space around him was packed elbow-to-elbow with a little over twenty people. They were a wall-to-wall blur of bruises, mud, bandages, and stunned expressions. The air was thick with sweat, and the rotten smell of dirty water and the iron tang of blood.
Somebody whimpered somewhere up front. Someone was coughing wetly by the back. The ram vendor who’d spoken to him earlier was now slumped forward, cradling his head with both hands. Nearby, a young looking husky with one arm fully wrapped in bandages was cursing and looked about to bolt, one leg propped up awkwardly over someone else’s bag.
“Is this a damn prisoner wagon or what?” the husky growled under his breath.
“Fucking right. I didn’t even tell my family that I’m alive. My mom’s going to go crazy worried” another replied, louder.
"Why the hell are we all together? Where’s the real ambulance?"
"Where are they taking us?"
The tension was building again. No longer the panic of immediate danger, but the angry, creeping suspicion of being treated like a problem to be dealt with instead of people. Kassur could feel it in the way bodies shifted, in the low murmurs spreading across the cabin like wildfire in dry brush.
Two DAIR officers stood near the entrance door, close to the driver, helmets still on, visors down. They said nothing. Just stood like statues, rifles resting in their hands. Watching.
Kassur hated how quiet they were. Hated how normal this seemed to them.
He rubbed his swollen ankle absently, eyes drifting to the passengers across from him — a young bat vendor gripping a bloodied cloth to her shoulder; an older hyena with one eye swollen shut, rocking gently as if in shock.
The drive wasn’t long. But it felt like it lasted hours. A slow crawl through a city that no longer felt safe.
Eventually, the bus slowed, the hum beneath their feet changing as they got from asphalt to concrete. Then came the soft hiss of hydraulic brakes.
They arrived.
The door opened, and for a moment, no one moved.
At least they did come to the hospital. A triage zone had been improvised near one of the ambulance bays. Civilian staff shouting directions that sounded like instructions, not orders. They climbed out and waited to be seen.
=================================
Kassur was guided into a tent and someone measured his temperature, heartbeat and blood pressure then a nurse technician guided him to a closed space and asked him to remove his clothing. He waited in his underwear for a couple minutes until a rat medic got in. She was fast cataloguing his injuries on a specialized hospital terminal.
“I don’t have insurance,” Kassur said, embarrassed as the doctor pulled a cart and started disinfecting a cut on his arm.
The rat chuckled.
“DAIR can be a bunch of troglodytes. But, because they forced you guys to come here, they cover the bill.”
“Oh. Thank you,” he said, sounding more relaxed. “Can I see my friend after this?”
“Sure. The rest of the guys that came on the bus are waiting in the main lobby. So you guys can talk to one another. But the DAIR wants to ask a couple questions.”
“My friend came before. In an ambulance. He was from DAIR as well.”
“I see. Well. You’re going to wait until they get your testimony then. Now, let's see that swollen ankle you got there.”
Kassur didn’t have a big life-force reserve. A few of his cuts had already healed. But the ankle and some other injuries would recover at a regular’s pace. He remembered that Morty bought him some eels. Those were lost back at the stockyard.
He couldn’t find it in himself to complain. It wasn’t his money and a lot of people lost so much more. He would buy something some other time.
He heard someone coughing. He would buy something tomorrow.
=================================
Kassur was one of the first to go through the interview after being released by the doctor.
His clothes were soaking wet, so the hospital gave him a sweater kit with their logo on it. They didn’t have one that was exactly Kassur’s size, so the one he was wearing was a bit baggy. He was also offered a blanket while he waited, but he refused.
The DAIR officer who questioned him looked just as tired as everyone else. An older fox regular with fur starting to turn grey. His voice was flat, methodical. He asked the same questions over and over but didn’t push when Kassur gave short, direct answers.
“What did you see in the tunnel? Did the suspect speak to you? What’s your connection to the DAIR agent? Were you aware of the presence of an Alpha? Why did you two go there?”
It lasted maybe twenty minutes. Then, a simple nod. “You’re cleared.”
He was sent to a waiting area — a long, narrow lounge near the secondary processing zone, filled with others who’d also been checked out by medics and grilled by DAIR. There were old plastic chairs, a water dispenser, and a cracked vid-screen in the corner looping news alerts about the stockyard incident.
They didn’t want to hear about that. Someone changed the channel and the other news feed was covering a raid action at the Water Treatment facility.
Kev was there. So were a few other familiar faces from the market. Even the ram with the broken horn. Everyone sat in tired silence. Three DAIR enforcers were standing by the door that gave access to the rest of the hospital.
Then came the shouting.
It was muffled at first, somewhere from where they had come through. The shouting rose quickly. Then came the crash of a chair. A shout. Boots pounding.
And then gunfire.
Three shots.
Sharp, sudden, and far too close.
Everyone in the waiting area froze. Someone ducked behind a chair. A nurse screamed down the hall.
Two of the DAIR officers sprinted past the open doorway, rifles up. The third remained and he kept his gun ready.
Kassur stood slowly. His heart was in his throat. Kev instinctively reached out, gripping his elbow to keep him from moving.
“What happened?” someone asked, voice trembling.
No one answered. Not for a while. The enforcer pointed the gun to Kassur.
“Sit down. No funny business.”
The jackal sat and around him everyone got agitated.
A few minutes later, another officer stepped into the room. Neither the one who questioned Kassur, nor the two that sped past.
“Everyone stay where you are. There was an incident. We have a suspect on the run. You're safe, but no one leaves until further notice.”
Whispers broke out. Someone cursed under their breath. Another person clutched their jacket tighter.
They never said who it was. So they had to wait.
An hour passed. Maybe more.
Eventually things settled, and the rest of the survivors were brought in one group at a time. Until everyone was triaged and questioned. The delay came from someone attacking a doctor during intake and trying to snatch an enforcer’s sidearm before fleeing. They were still unaccounted for.
By the time everyone from the market had been processed, two hours had crawled past. Evening had set in, and several of the vendors and civilians already had family waiting outside the hospital doors.
“Hey, Kass. I’m heading home. This ugly dude is my cousin, he drove the van. Do you need a ride?”
“I can just leave you here, Kevino,” Kev’s cousin, an otter, asked.
“Hey,” Kassur greeted him. “I could use a lift. Are you guys going to pass close to the Public Market?”
“Do you want to go there, mate?” Kev’s cousin asked. “Did you bash your head too hard?”
“Not really. But I left my bike there. So if you were to pass by, or close, I could pick it up and drive back here.”
“I can do that,” the otter said.
“Then yeah, I’d like a ride.”
“Why are you even coming back?” Kev asked.
“I want to know when they get news on Morty.”
“You and that guy are an item?” the weasel asked with a cheeky grin.
“What? No. I mean. I met him today.”
“So can I tell my sister she still has a chance?”
Kassur rolled his eyes and told one of the staff that he was heading out for a while and in case Morty — Agent Mortimer — woke up, he would be back soon.
“That’s okay, dear. He’s in intensive care anyway. I’ll tell him in case he wakes up before you arrive. Don’t worry. He’s in good hands.””
“Thanks. It won’t be long.”
=================================
The public market was surrounded. Several cruisers were near the entrance to the underground levels. But he managed to grab his motorcycle without any problems. He wasn’t parked that close to the entrance.
It was only when he finally sat down in the actual waiting room of the hospital, not just the place they put them before. He felt like he had been at it for a whole week. The day had taken its toll. He was tired. He was exhausted.
Kassur sat alone under the harsh glow of the waiting room’s recessed lights.
He understood when regulars gave him space. And, being honest, sometimes he enjoyed being left alone. His ankle throbbed, but nothing like before, the medication he took was doing its job. A nurse had told him there were no fractures, just a strain and shock.
He clutched a foam cup of lukewarm tea he’d got from a vending machine, barely tasting it. All the noise from the room seemed to come from very far away now, behind thick glass.
A badger in enforcer riot gear entered the waiting room.
He was muscular, but half a foot shorter than Kassur. The badger didn’t acknowledge the nurses. He scanned the room, then dropped onto the bench next to Kassur with a tired grunt.
Kassur blinked. “Huh… who are you?”
The badger opened one eye and looked at him with a tired expression. “Clem. Why do you want to know?”
“I mean, were you sent here to check on me? Is everything okay?”
Clem snorted. “Not everything’s about you, kid.”
Kassur bristled a little. “...Right.”
The badger leaned back, resting one boot on his knee. He was covered in dirt and grime and he smelled of old sweat.
“Got someone upstairs,” he pointed vaguely toward one of the elevators. “They can heal you, but she is not a predator. She won’t be getting that arm back. Probably gonna retire to a desk job”
“Sorry to hear about that.”
“Maybe it is for the best. Regular folk don’t bounce back as easily as us. She’s still alive.” There was a sadness there and it sounded that he was trying to convince himself more than anything.
Kassur just took another sip of tea. His stomach still felt like it was full of nails.
Clem watched him for a long beat.
“You staff?”
“What?”
Clem pointed to the logo of the hospital on Kassur’s clothing.
“Ah! Nope, I was at the Public Market stockyard when shit hit the fan this afternoon.”
Clem whistled impressed. “You fought then?”
Kassur hesitated. “I didn’t die.”
He didn’t say I electrocuted the enemy and probably some of the people that were in there as well as several dozen animals.
“That counts.”
Another silence. Then Clem shifted forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You saw it? The moose?”
Kassur swallowed. His voice came out tight. “Yeah.”
Clem tilted his head, studying him. “That thing isn’t just some big predator. I saw him at the docks last night. Nasty guy.”
“Tell me about it,” Kassur said quietly. “I almost pissed myself.”
They sat like that for a while. Not talking. Not needing to.
Just two people who’d stood too close to something that should’ve killed them, sitting in silence while their people tried to recover. Meanwhile, a few floors up, Morty awoke.
=================================
The world came back in pieces to Morty.
At first, it was just sound.
The steady beep of machines. The soft hiss of something regulating air. Distant voices, muffled and too far to matter.
Then came the light.
A faint blue blur that increased in intensity when he opened his eyes. It hung in the center of his vision. A small, sharp-edged square, hovering without surface, as if the universe itself had developed a glitch.
Morty felt dizzy and tried to grab it, only for his fingers to slip through. Was he hallucinating?
The blue square pulsed once and snapped into focus.
