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", "count": "9", "submission_left_submission_id": "63721", "submission_left_file_name": "441229_Shryke_dangerous_games_part_1.rtf", "submission_right_submission_id": "248389", "submission_right_file_name": "441237_Shryke_dangerous_games_part_3.rtf" } ], "description": "Here is part 2 of Dangerous Games, a story about the friendship that forms between 2 foxes over a rather shady backdrop. \n\nIn Part 2, Jack and Angelo have some down time, and get to know each other better. No, not that way. \n\nThere is no sex in this story. (Listens for all those \"back\" buttons being clicked). There may be some dialog regarding past events, but nothing particularly explicit. There is, or will be in future parts, violence, drug use, crime, bloodshed, guns, knives, injury, and even death, so these will be tagged Adult or Mature depending on the chapter. \n\nLastly, as several writers have observed, the auto-parser above does not respect the formatting of the original document. I put this one up as RTF because that seems to have the least problems, but bolding and italics have been lost in the preview. I use italics for \"inner monologue\", though that should be obvious from the context even without them. \n\n(Minor updates and copy edits - 23 Dec 2012)", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Here is part 2 of Dangerous Games, a story about the friendship that forms between 2 foxes over a rather shady backdrop.

In Part 2, Jack and Angelo have some down time, and get to know each other better. No, not that way.

There is no sex in this story. (Listens for all those "back" buttons being clicked). There may be some dialog regarding past events, but nothing particularly explicit. There is, or will be in future parts, violence, drug use, crime, bloodshed, guns, knives, injury, and even death, so these will be tagged Adult or Mature depending on the chapter.

Lastly, as several writers have observed, the auto-parser above does not respect the formatting of the original document. I put this one up as RTF because that seems to have the least problems, but bolding and italics have been lost in the preview. I use italics for "inner monologue", though that should be obvious from the context even without them.

(Minor updates and copy edits - 23 Dec 2012)", "writing": "Disclaimer: This story is part of a series, entitled “Dangerous Games”. The series contains non-human anthropomorphic animal (“Furry”) characters of varying ages, adult and cub. While there are no overt sexual acts depicted in this series, the stories will contain adult themes, topics, and situations, which may not be legal in some jurisdictions. These include: frank discussions of sexual acts and character sexuality, alcohol and drug use, criminal acts, violence, adult language, weapons including guns and knives, bloodshed, grievous bodily harm, death, and events which depict underage characters in peril. \n\nIt is up to the reader to be aware of the laws regarding depictions of such material in their place of residence. If you are not allowed to read such material, due to age, religion, place of residence, or any other factor, do not continue.\n\nThis story and all characters are copyright Shryke. This is a work of fiction. All events and persons depicted are fictional, and any similarities with actual events or persons is purely coincidental. \n\n\n\nDANGEROUS GAMES\nby Shryke\nPart 2\n\n The car's engine roared, and with a surge the vehicle smashed through the railroad crossing arm and flew across the tracks, missing being broadsided by the oncoming train by less than fifty feet. The sound of the train's horn blaring still rang in Jack's ears as he raced down the road. The police officer who had been behind them was taken by surprise and had not been able to get back into his car before the train had thoroughly blocked the street. It would probably be five minutes before the whole thing had passed through and re-opened the road. \n “Yeeeeessss!” Angelo screamed, punching the car's roof, as they sped clear of the tracks. \n “Holy shit...” Jack panted. He was nearly hyperventilating at the adrenaline rush. “Holy SHIT, we made it!” he shouted, watching the train slowly rolling in his rear view mirror. Looking ahead, he could see the road signs indicating the freeway was less than a mile ahead. “We actually made it!”\n “Not yet! Turn there past that gas station,” Angelo ordered, rapid-fire. “There! There!” he said, pointing excitedly.\n “What?” Jack inquired. The interstate on-ramp was nearly in view. \n “DO IT,” the younger fox commanded loudly, “Turn right! There!” \n Jack hesitated for a moment, then hit the brakes hard and nearly spun the car turning it onto the commanded side-street. As soon as the car was stable again he sped back up and headed down the side street. This was a small two-lane road with many turns and curves. \n “The freeway was right there,” Jack barked accusingly, “What the hell are we doing here, we need to get away from that cop before the train passes.”\n “No!” Angelo barked back. “That's where the rest of them will be waiting for you. Turn left right there!” he said, pointing to another smaller side-street. “We need to get this car hidden fast, before they get a helicopter up.”\n Jack pondered this, and it did make sense. He had seen the officer on the radio, so doubtless there were dozens of police now looking for them. \n “Also, slow down,” Angelo said, quieter now. “Nobody's following us, so its time to look normal now.”\n Jack nodded and slowed the car down to an inconspicuous speed. He kept nervously checking his mirrors, but there was nobody behind him within sight. “So where are we going?” \n “I used to live up this way, before... well, before,” he replied. “There's a good spot where I used to hang out sometimes. It's an old abandoned mine entrance. We should be able to ditch the car there. Just watch for cops. And helicopters. Turn right at that stop sign.”\n Jack noted that the little grey-furred fox was still rather agitated, which was apparent from his clipped speech and jumpiness. The combination of the coke he had inhaled at the last drop-off, and the adrenaline from playing chicken with a freight train, must have had him ready to jump out of his skin, Jack thought. \n The road curved around to the right some, and Jack figured they were now heading back in the general direction of the train tracks, though a mile or so off of the main road they had been on. He had his window rolled down now, to listen for sirens or a helicopter, but so far at least, they were still in the clear. \n “Left turn here,” Angelo said, his head checking all directions as well. \n Jack turned the car accordingly. This road was nearly a one-lane service road, with no houses or cars in sight. To the left was a forest, and to the right was a hill that followed the road, as if it had been built to separate the road from whatever was on the other side. The continued down the road for a minute or so. \n “Turn right, there at that little driveway-looking thing, then stop,” Angelo said, pointing to a point ahead where the hill dropped to almost street level, as if a driveway were there, though it appeared to be just more grass. As they got closer, Jack could see an overgrown dirt road that went up through the low point in the hill. There were two concrete posts with a chain across them to block access. He slowed the car and turned up the dirt road, again checking for any vehicles in sight, then stopped at the chain. \n Angelo hopped out of the car and ran up to the chain and un-hooked it from one of the posts. With a wave he beckoned Jack to drive the car through the opening, then ran around behind and re-hooked the chain before climbing back into the car. \n “Ok, go slow now, this is all dirt. Don't want to kick up too much dust,” the young fox instructed. “Follow it all the way around 'till you have to drive up on the tracks,” he concluded nonchalantly. \n “Drive... on the railroad tracks?” Jack asked incredulously. \n Angelo laughed. “Don't worry, it's not the main tracks. It's an old side-track that led to this old mine.”\n Jack followed the dirt road slowly along. The car was now hidden from view between the hill on the left and a smaller one of similar construction on the right. Jack figured the main tracks were now just over the hill to the right. \n After a minute or so of driving on the little dirt road, it sloped up to the level of the right-side hill, and the railroad siding came into view. They were heavily rusted, in striking contrast to the active main tracks a few yards further away. \n “Ok now, time to get blenderized,” Angelo said with a grin. “Go left on the tracks 'till you get to the mine.”\n Jack turned onto the rusted old tracks and slowly bounced the car along them as they curved to the left, heading away from the main tracks. Several times the car's underside scraped against the rails or the ties with a violent crash. Jack wasn't concerned, as he knew they would likely not need to preserve this car much longer. He chuckled at the irony, as he had just gotten the car fixed the previous day, and had only gotten half of one day's use out of it. \n Ahead, as the track continued to curve, Jack could see old piles of garbage, debris, and old rails and ties begin to come into view. An old rusting metal canopy stood over a fifty-foot section of the track, with what looked to be the mine entrance just beyond it. The place looked like it had been abandoned for decades. \n Jack needed no prodding to pull the car under the protection of the metal canopy. It would be well hidden from view from the air. He bounced the car the last few feet along until they were safely under the middle of it, and shut the car off. \n Angelo opened his door and listened for a moment before stepping out onto the gravel of the rail bed. Jack put his head back against the seat back and took several deep breaths, the adrenaline rush only just beginning to fade as they were now relatively safe. He closed his eyes and chuckled, almost giggled to himself, partly in relief and partly at the near absurdity of the situation he was in. \n “Jack?” he heard Angelo ask. The boy had now come around to the driver's side and had obviously noticed the older fox's odd behavior. Jack opened his eyes and looked at the little grey-furred fox standing by the door. \n “Yup,” he said, “I'm good.” Jack took the hem of his shirt and began to wipe the steering wheel with it, trying to remove any paw-prints from it. He knew this would be a fruitless exercise, as his prints were all over the car, inside and out, from the work he had done on the gas tank. No doubt they were firmly enshrined in grease on the bottom of the car. \n “C'mon,” Angelo said, tugging at Jacks shirt. “Don't worry about that, I'll fix all this later. Right now we have to get away from here.”\n “Right,” replied Jack, not sure how the younger fox intended to “fix” this, but following along anyway. He got out of the car, and tossed the key on the seat, again wiping it off first. “I'll leave the key. Maybe we'll get lucky and someone will steal our stolen car,” he said with an ironic tone. \n Angelo laughed. “Yep, who knows,” he said with a grin. “Lets head for the woods. We'll wait there for a bit 'till the heat dies down some.” He indicated the dense forest that started immediately behind the entrance to the old mine, and seemed to go on for miles. Jack nodded, and Angelo took off running towards the forest. \n Jack followed at a jog, keeping the little fox ahead in sight but not trying to keep up with him as they travelled into the woods. It was a fairly dense forest, probably the result of hundreds of years of uninterrupted growth, if not more. In the height of summertime, the canopy overhead would make any aerial view impossible, so it was a good place to hide out. \n Angelo kept running, stopping and turning every so often to make sure Jack was still behind him, before taking off again. The two ran deeper into the woods for almost five minutes before Angelo slowed and stopped against a large tree, panting heavily. Jack caught up to him, winded himself in spite of the gentler pace he had taken. \n “Ok...” Angelo panted, “I think... we can stop here...” He bent at the waist, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees.\n Jack looked around. There was no sign of civilization in any direction. He took a mental bearing on the direction they had come from—he did not want to get lost here. “Do you know where we are?” he asked the boy. \n “Yeah, sure,” Angelo replied. He had now caught his breath and sat down on the ground. “I used to live in an apartment up thataway,” he said, pointing off in another direction, “It backed up to this same forest, and I'd ride my bike here all the time. I used to hang out at that mine and watch the trains. That was back...” he trailed off. \n Jack took note of this. It had clearly brought back memories of the kit's past. Jack changed the subject to the more pressing matter. “So how long do we need to wait here?”\n “Half hour,” Angelo replied quietly. “Maybe an hour. Depends on if we hear sirens or choppers or anything.” He leaned forward and idly drew circles in the dirt. \n Jack paced slowly, again taking mental inventory of his situation. “Half hour,” he said aloud, then laughed. Angelo looked up at him questioningly. “Jeez, I'm eighteen and I'm on the run from the cops. Not how I envisioned my summer going, I gotta be honest.”\n The kit stood up and brushed the dirt from his pants. “Well, its not like this is where I thought I'd be in my life either,” he said with a wry smile. “But the job's not always like this, I promise!” \n Jack chuckled. “You're what... ten? Eleven?” he asked. \n “Eleven,” the kit replied. “And a half!” \n “Oh, “and a half”, well, excuse me!” Jack said with a grin. Those six months were always so important to kits, he mused. His little sister was about the same age, and said the same thing. Angelo shrugged matter-of-factly. Jack reached a hand out to pat his head, but the kit instinctively backed away from the contact as if startled, before catching himself with a slightly embarrassed smile. He did not, however, go back into petting range. \n “So,” Jack began after a moment, “How did you come to be where you are, then?” he asked, once again trying not to sound like he was prying. There was a backstory to this kid, Jack thought, and he felt he needed to know how Angelo's life had unfolded so as to bring him to this spot in the woods.\n “How?” Angelo asked, head-tilting slightly. \n “Yeah,” Jack replied. “Victor gave me the Reader's Digest version, remember? And you were going to fill in the rest?” he said, referring back to the conversation in Victor's apartment. \n “Heh, I did say that, didn't I?” the kit replied. “It's kind of a... complex story, I guess. You sure you want to hear it?”\n “Well, we got plenty of time, right?” Jack said. “Are you sure that... you want to talk about it though?” he asked, remembering the sad tone in the boy's voice as he mentioned riding down to the mine in his past. \n Angelo chucked. “It's not that bad,” he said. “Where you want me to start?”\n “Well... Victor said your dad died a long time ago?” Jack figured that this would be easier to talk about, given the time passed, and the fact that Angelo would have been very young. \n The kit nodded. “Yeah. He left us when I was five or six. Got himself knifed in a bar fight a couple years later. Killed over a pitcher of beer. Nice guy, huh?” \n “He left you?” Jack inquired. \n “Yep, left my mom and me. She wanted to get a job to get some extra money coming in, and he wouldn't let her. She did anyway, so he took off.” \n “Whoa,” Jack said, shocked by this. “Just because she wanted a job?” \n “Mmm-hmm,” said the little fox. “They never had a lot of money, and when I was born it just made it worse. I guess he took it personally. Like her wanting to help meant he wasn't doing his job or something.” He shrugged, no trace of emotion in his face. \n “Wow, that sucks,” was all Jack could think to say. \n “Yeah, but whatever,” Angelo replied with another shrug. “I was “an accident” apparently, and he didn't have a problem reminding me of that fact. Often. We were better off without him. At least then we could get some state money to help.” \n The kit still showed no emotion as he spoke, but began to pace about again. Jack couldn't think of anything to say to that. He wanted to comfort the younger fox, but restrained himself, recalling his previous attempt at friendly contact. \n “So then your mom,” Jack continued, “How'd she die? You don't have to answer if...” \n “How?” Angelo interrupted, his voice slightly louder. “Ripped apart by some big horse-guy's cock, hopefully.” His voice had a tinge of anger to it now, as he continued to pace.\n Jack was taken aback by this outburst. It seemed a glaring non-sequitur when taken with everything Jack knew, or thought he knew at least, about this young kit. \n “Wait, wait,” Jack said, almost stammering, “You mean... she's not dead?”\n Angelo stopped his pacing and looked at Jack, his face again expressionless. “Today? I don't know. Don't care either.” He turned away and resumed pacing, slower than before. \n “No, no, wait,” Jack said, still trying to wrap his brain around this new revelation. “So... you did run away! But I thought... Victor said...”\n “You don't know how it was, Jack,” Angelo said, turning back towards the red fox. \n “Don't be so sure,” Jack replied, thinking back to his early teenage years when he similarly tried to escape his home-life. “I ran away a couple times when I was about your age,” he began.\n “Jack!” Angelo interrupted again, stepping closer, “I like you, Jack. I do. But you don't know what you're talking about here.” \n “I'm telling you, I've been there!” Jack retorted. “I know what it's like to want to get away from your parents. I know that you might think that running away is going to make things better, but...” \n “NO!” Angelo shouted, cutting off Jack in his tracks. “You don't GET it! I'M not the one who ran away!” he yelled angrily, pointing at his chest with his thumb for emphasis. He turned and walked several paces away, angrily kicking a rock as he did so.\n Jack stared for a moment, stunned by the revelation. He couldn't think of anything to say; indeed there was nothing that could be said. He just sat down where he stood, cross-legged, and stared at the ground at Angelo's feet. \n The grey-furred kit still had his back to Jack, and his paws were balled up into fists. After a moment, the fists relaxed and the kit half turned to look back at Jack. The older fox looked up from where he sat, his ears flat against his head with guilt. He wanted to say that he was sorry for forcing the issue, but still said nothing. \n Angelo turned fully back towards Jack, then slowly walked back over to where he sat, and sat down across from him. There was a faint hint of sadness to his face now. Neither spoke for several seconds. \n “You remember that bad fox-flu that was going around a few years ago?” Angelo finally said. His tone was casual and conversational—the way one would ask about the weather. So much so that Jack initially thought he was changing the subject abruptly. \n “Yeah,” Jack replied softly, still feeling bad, “I remember that.”\n Angelo nodded. “Well, I had a bad case of that. Really bad. I was puking every ten minutes, couldn't eat or drink anything... not fun.”\n “When was this?” Jack asked. \n The little fox thought for a moment. “Oh, right about when I turned ten, so... a year and a half ago?” \n Jack nodded. He now realized that Angelo was telling the story about his mother. \n The kit continued. “I had to go to the hospital, 'cause even a sip of water would make me puke. They hooked me up to all these IV bags of stuff. One full of saline, one with... potassium I think it was, and one that was nutrients. Liquid lunch, yummy. They said I would probably be there for a week. Maybe longer.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “Remember, we didn't have much money. We definitely didn't have any insurance. Me lying there being pumped full of saline for a week was going to cost a ton of money that we didn't have. You know what saline really is?”\n “It's like salt?” Jack offered. \n “Yeah, salt water,” Angelo said with audible annoyance. “How much were they going to charge us for ten bucks worth of salt water? Anyway,” he continued, his voice losing the annoyed tone, “she was there for the first couple of days, then said she had to go home to take care of some things, but would be back. You can guess what happened next.” \n “She never came back...” Jack said softly. \n “You got it. At first I figured it was because of a snowstorm that hit that day. But I called our number... no answer. Two days go by... three... still nothing. No answer on the phone and no sign of her at the hospital. Called her work number, and they said she hadn't been there since before I got sick.”\n “Did they ever find her?” Jack inquired, though he already knew the answer. \n “Cops went by the apartment looking for her. They got the manager to let them in. Everything was normal inside, except that a lot of her clothes were gone. Dresser drawers hanging open, empty. Closet mostly empty. She skipped town on me.” Angelo spoke this last part with a tinge of anger. “She skipped town while I'm lying there alone with needles and tubes in me.” \n “Jeez, Ange...” Jack began. \n The little fox resumed, before Jack could get any more out. “When the snow melted, they found her car at the downtown bus station. So she took off right after leaving the hospital.” \n “Maybe she just panicked?” Jack suggested. “Because of the hospital expenses?”\n “Oh she panicked all right,” Angelo replied. “Cops said they'd seen it before, and that the mother usually comes back in a few days, after getting her head straight. So once I was better, they put me in this short-term orphanage to wait and see if she came back.”\n “And she never did,” Jack said, finishing Angelo's sentence. \n “Nope,” the kit said. “You remember Vic called orphanages “prisons”? Well that's what this one felt like. One big room with twenty or so beds lined up against the wall. One big shower room that everyone used together. One big cafeteria where we all ate. And the staff that didn't care as long as the count of kits was right at the end of the day. I met this one lion there. He was sixteen, and had been in orphanages as long as he could remember. He gave me the scoop on what the system was all about. No way I was going to stay there for long after talking to him. \n “Anyway, after a month, the cops came back and said there was no sign of my mom anywhere, even checking with other states. So they officially listed her as “missing” and me as “abandoned” and said I would be moved to a permanent house soon. So I bailed. Ran away during the after-lunch recess.” \n “Wow,” Jack said, “That's...” \n “Fucked up?” Angelo said, now finishing Jack's sentence. “I agree fully, but there it is.” \n “So, how does Victor fit into all this?” Jack asked. \n “Victor, yes,” Angelo replied. “Well he lived in the same apartment complex as we did. The one past these woods. He got to know my mom. They would talk a lot, sometimes he'd come over for dinner. I think he probably just wanted to bone her, but whatever. Anyway, one time when he was over, he told stories about his time in orphanages, so I thought of him when I ran away. He had given her and me his cell phone number once, in case we ever needed anything. I remembered it because it spells out a word on the phone keys. So I called him and told him what was up. He came and got me and, well, you know the rest.” \n He fell silent and just looked at Jack. Jack found it hard to make eye contact as he dug for words—something, anything to soften the punch of Angelo's story. He just let out a sigh as he stared at the ground. \n “Your turn!” Angelo said brightly, breaking the silence after a moment. \n Jack looked up into the kit's blue eyes. “My turn?” he repeated. \n “Yep,” the young fox replied, “You heard my life story, so now it's your turn!”\n “Well,” Jack said, slowly. He suddenly felt self-conscious about talking about himself. “I really don't know where to begin. There's not much to tell really.”\n “Uh-huh,” Angelo replied, with an over-exaggerated tone of skepticism. “Well, how 'bout this: you said you ran away from home when you were my age. What was that all about?”\n “Hmm, right,” Jack said, nodding. “That's a bit of a long story too, I guess.”\n “I knew it!” the little fox replied enthusiastically, with a smile. “Go for it!”\n “Ok,” Jack began, again feeling tinges of self-consciousness creeping in. In retrospect, he mused, this story was rather embarrassing. Even now he could hardly believe that he had ever truly acted this way. “Well, I was what you might call... a spoiled brat when I was a kit.”\n Angelo giggled at this. “Oh really?” he asked, ears perking slightly. \n “Yeah,” Jack replied. “I was. My parents call themselves “new age hippies”, or at least they used to. They told themselves early on that when they had kids, they wouldn't ever use any kind of real discipline, but rather use “time-outs” and stern tones of voice when they needed to. That worked until I was maybe... four. I learned pretty quick that they were never going to do any more than that, so I pretty much did whatever I wanted to. So by the time I was your age...”\n “You were a brat,” Angelo said, completing the thought for Jack. “As in... really bad?”\n “Oh yes,” Jack confirmed with a nod. “I would...”. He trailed off. This part was particularly humiliating. “I would throw screaming tantrums all the time when I didn't get my way.” He chuckled slightly as he saw Angelo recoil slightly and tilt his head in surprise. “Yeah, I feel the same way about it now too,” Jack continued. “Didn't matter where, didn't matter why. If my breakfast cereal was even slightly mushy I'd go off.”\n “Wow...” said the younger fox, his voice a mixed tone of disbelief with a touch of disapproval. “And your folks did nothing?”\n “Nothing,” replied Jack, no longer making eye contact with the kit. “It got to the point where they'd just give in to my demands, and do whatever I wanted, just to avoid the inevitable temper tantrum. So I did just that. Whatever I wanted, I mean. They thought it was a phase, and I'd grow out of it.”\n “A six year phase?” the little grey-furred fox said sarcastically. “I assume that didn't happen, of course.”\n “Oh hell no,” said Jack. “By the time I was... oh, thirteen or so, I was hanging out with the pot-heads, skipping classes, and forget about homework. I had no concept of responsibility. None. One time...”, he paused with a laugh. “Once I left the front door wide open when I left for school. Just walked out and didn't even think to close it.” He laughed again, remembering. “Fortunately the neighbor across the street saw the door hanging open, otherwise that could have been a bad scene.”\n “But you still did go to school, then?” asked the kit. \n “Yeah, I did,” said Jack, “But only ever enough to just squeak by so I wouldn't fail. And the only reason I did that was so my friends wouldn't give me crap for getting held back. That was the only reason. I couldn't care less how it would affect my life beyond that.”\n Angelo nodded. “And your parents still didn't see the problem with this?” he asked. \n Jack shook his head. “I think at this point they'd given up on me,” he said with a touch of sadness. “By that time, my little sister was six or so, and they focused on her. I guess they wanted to try it all again on her. Meanwhile... I pretty much ran wild.”\n “That when you ran away?” inquired the little fox. \n “Nah,” said Jack, “I was king of my own world at that point. Why would I want to leave? No, what happened was that two years go by, and now my sister starts acting like I had when I was her age.” \n “Uh-oh,” said Angelo with a half-smile. \n “You got it,” Jack replied with a nod. “My folks finally got the message that their cub-rearing philosophy wasn't making it. So my dad turns to his dad for help.”\n “His dad?” \n “Yep, my granddad,” replied Jack. “He was pretty strict on my dad growing up. So much so that I think it was the reason that my dad decided to not be strict on us. But he knew first-hand how it was, and that he would never have been allowed to act the way I was... the way my sister was starting to as well.”\n “So, what happened?”, inquired the cub.\n “What happened,” Jack replied, “was change. Sudden, abrupt change. TV, Internet, video games... gone. They became rewards rather than rights. Curfews got imposed, under penalty of being grounded. And the “time outs”? They got replaced by being grabbed by the scruff of the neck and bodily thrown into my room.” He paused, another embarrassing part coming up. “I'd been getting my way for years, no questions asked. So naturally this all came as a bit of a shock.”\n “Heh, I bet,” said Angelo with a chuckle. “How'd you take it?”\n “I took it by...” he paused with an embarrassed chuckle again. “By... crying myself to sleep for a week.”\n “No!” exclaimed the younger fox with a shocked laugh, jumping to his feet. “You didn't!”\n Jack's ears went flat against his head. “Yeah... I really did. I threw some violent screaming tantrums, but this time... nothing. So I basically threw a fit till I passed out from exhaustion. I was like fourteen.” He stared at the ground as he spoke, too humiliated to look at his companion.\n “Holy schmoley,” said Angelo, with amazement in his voice. “So this is when you ran away?”\n “Yep pretty much,” Jack replied. “I figured that my friends would let me hang with them, so I grabbed some things and left.” He chuckled again, remembering. “Turns out, they all had their own rules that they had to live by too, and none of them were going to let me just move into their basements. So... I went back home. I realized then that I really had no idea how the real world worked”\n “What happened when you got home?”
 Jack laughed out loud at this. “I got grounded for missing my curfew! I didn't even make it one night away from home!” He looked up at Angelo and laughed again. “Man, I was a brat!”\n The older fox stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. “So anyway,” he continued, “I finally resigned myself to this new way of life, and had to play by their rules. By which I mean: I had to grow the hell up and stop being such a baby.” He mused for a moment. “I don't know when it happened, but at some point I finally “got it”. I got that my folks weren't doing this to be cruel, and that they really did love us. And I got what a little bastard I'd been all my life.” \n Angelo giggled at this. Jack noted that he had resumed nervously pacing slightly, and shuffling his feet when he stood still. \n Jack went on. “So, then came high school, and I actually got decent grades, got on the football team, got a job... the whole nine yards. Those restrictions at home got eased off as my sister and I started acting like regular furs instead of assholes. And this June, I graduated, which nobody would have seen coming four years ago. Then I moved out the next day.”\n This last sentence caught the younger fox off-guard. His ears perked and he tilted his head slightly. “Huh? The next day?”\n “Yep,” confirmed Jack. “Not because of anything that happened at home though. It's just that... after all that spoiled kit routine, I just... needed to prove that I was responsible now. That I could survive on my own without having to have them bail me out of trouble. I dunno... it's kind of hard to explain, really.”\n “I think I understand,” said Angelo soberly. “Your folks taught you to be a responsible fox, but the only way you could really show them how successful they were was by leaving them.”\n Jack looked the little grey fox in his blue eyes for a moment, then nodded. “That's it exactly. You're pretty smart.” \n Angelo grinned. “Vic says I'm too smart for my own good!” He laughed as he said this. Jack again resisted the urge to fuzzle the little fox's headfur, and just smiled back. \n “Jack?” said the kit after a pause. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the car being stolen.”\n Jack nodded with a smile. “That's ok. Just please be honest with me in the future? For both our sakes?” \n “Deal!” the little fox replied. “I promise I won't lie to you.” He held out his paw for a handshake, which Jack accepted. “Technically though,” the kit continued with a grin, “I never said the car wasn't stolen!” \n Jack laughed, and this time he did reach out and fuzzle Angelo's head. The young fox made no move to avoid it. \n\n “Let's head back towards the mine,” Angelo said after a moment. “Slowly, though.”\n “You think it's safe?” Jack asked, nervously.\n “Should be,” came the reply. “We'll get close and see if there's anything going on. We'll be coming from the other direction, so if they have found the car, they're not going to be expecting the driver to come back. If anyone asks, we're brothers out for a stroll to watch the trains.” \n “Ok, little bro, lead the way,” said Jack. He found he liked the way it sounded; indeed, he did always want a brother growing up. Angelo too, looked back and smiled for a second or so longer than expected, as if he was pondering speaking. \n In the end, though, all he said was “C'mon,” and started back in the direction of the mine. \n Jack walked next to the young fox, noting that he was walking at a brisker pace than his instructions of “Slowly though” would imply. He was also repeatedly balling up one fist, then shaking it out like a baseball pitcher limbering up. “You ok, bud?” Jack asked. \n “Yeah, yeah,” the boy replied rapidly. “I guess it's that stuff I snorted. Giving me the shakes now.”\n “But it was “just a little coke”, I thought,” Jack replied in a friendly jibe. He hoped the kit took it that way. \n Angelo looked over at him with a smirk, but said nothing. He looked back towards the ground in front of him. “So...” he began quietly, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice, “How long... does this stuff take to wear off?” He looked back up at Jack. \n Jack thought back to the anti-drug classes he had in school. “Well, usually it's a few hours or more.” Angelo's ears dropped at this. “He supposedly gave you a smaller dose, so maybe less than that, but you're smaller too, so hell, I dunno.” \n Angelo grumbled an incomprehensible something. Jack patted his shoulder, which caused the little fox to startle again, but he didn't pull away. He was clearly not used to friendly contact like this. \n “It will wear off though,” said Jack, as reassuringly as he could be. “Then, you'll be real tired, and you won't want to do anything. Maybe get depressed or sad too. That's where the addiction comes from: people will take another snort to get rid of the down feeling and to get back that high they had.”\n “Yeah, well no thanks,” said the boy. “That first rush was kind of cool, but the rest of this is just... annoying.”\n “Good to hear,” said Jack. Angelo looked at him with a brow cocked. “Good that you're not going to do it again, I mean. Not good that it's annoying!” he said, hurriedly and with a grin. \n After a few minutes, the hill separating the woods from the railroad tracks could be seen. There had been no sound of a helicopter, nor any sirens at all, since their initial encounter back at the rail crossing. The two vulpines continued closer. As they got within fifty yards, Angelo motioned to stop. \n “Ok, you wait here, I'll check out the mine,” the young fox said, “A lone kid showing up won't be suspicious. I'll wave from the hill when it's ok to come over. If you see me wave to someone at the mine... then it's not so safe!” He grinned as he spoke the last sentence. \n Jack nodded and the little fox dashed off ahead, towards the hill. As he began to approach the top, he slowed and, with every step, looked ahead over that part of the mine which came into view. At the top he stopped, then disappeared down the other side. Jack began to slowly walk towards the hill, all the while watching the crest for Angelo to return to view. \n After a minute, he did just that, and waved vigorously for Jack to approach. The red fox broke into a run to join his grey-furred compatriot at the top of the hill. At the crest, Jack looked down at the scene. It was as eerily vacant as it had been when they left some few minutes previously. Even the car parked under the old rusting metal canopy fit the scene perfectly, looking like it had been there for years when the last of civilization abandoned this small corner of the world. \n “Ok, now to cover our tracks,” Angelo said, and rand down the hill towards the car. Jack, still unsure of exactly what he had in mind, followed at a jog. \n As Jack reached the car, Angelo was leaning in the driver's door. He stood up, keys in paw. “Make sure you've got everything out,” the kit instructed, then walked to the back of the car. \n “Already done,” replied Jack, as he walked to the rear as well. “What do you have in mind? We can't take it back on the roads now.” By which he meant that he wouldn't take it back on the roads, if that was the boy's plan. \n “Nope, don't need to,” said Angelo. “I've got something else in mind.” He turned the key in the trunk lock. “Something a little... extreme!” At this he opened the trunk lid and looked at Jack with a smile. \n Jack looked into the trunk, and didn't see it at first. It was the same trunk he saw just the prior day when working on the car. A wide, rusty, and mostly empty space. Just the usual spare tire, and the two... 5-gallon gasoline cans that he had used to fill the new fuel tank. He looked back to Angelo, his own eyes now wide. “No...” was all Jack could say. \n “Yep!” confirmed Angelo with a broad grin. “Gimme a hand here.” He grabbed one of the cans' handles and began tugging it towards the trunk's opening. The obvious weight of the thing told Jack it was full; Victor must have re-filled them after Jack had returned the car to him. \n Jack grabbed the first can and lifted it out of the trunk, then repeated with the second. Both Jerrycans were full. “Are you serious?” he asked Angelo as he placed the second one on the ground. \n “It's the only way to get rid of the evidence,” Angelo said solemnly. “There's lots of paw-prints all over it, not to mention little bits of our fur. Got a better idea?” \n Jack thought for only a second before he realized that he didn't. This was indeed an extreme move, but it made sense. “No,” said Jack with a sigh. “What's Victor going to say?”\n “Vic? Oh, he'll be ten different kinds of mad!” replied Angelo with a laugh. Then, more somberly, “But this is the right thing to do, so I'm making the call myself.” \n Jack just nodded. Angelo motioned for him to pick up one of the cans. “Take that one and pour it all over the inside. Especially where we were sitting. It's ok if it runs out onto the ground.” \n The older fox took the can and began to douse the insides of the car with gasoline. Angelo, meanwhile, took his can and knocked it over on the ground under the car's gas tank, letting fuel pour out and pool beneath the tank. When a decent amount had flowed out, he righted the can and took it to the front of the car, repeating the process under the engine. \n Jack had thoroughly soaked the car's interior, front and back seats, with fuel, such that it pooled on the floorboards and seats. The fumes within began to get overpowering, so he stepped outside to get some fresh air, coughing as he did. \n Angelo stood up at the front of the car and brought his can over to Jack. Both cans were nearly empty. He began to pour the remainder of the gas onto the ground, leading away from the car in a trail. When his can ran out, he tossed it back under the car and continued to pour the fuse-trail from Jack's can. It too quickly ran out and joined its companion under the car. The trail was thirty or so feet long, Jack reckoned. The smell of gasoline was everywhere. \n The two foxes stood at the clear end of the gasoline trail that led back to the car. They stood there regarding the scene for a few seconds. “Ange,” Jack began, “Are you sure about this?” \n Angelo smiled at him, then produced a lighter from his jacket pocket. He winked at Jack, then lit the lighter and touched it to the gas trail on the ground. “Very sure,” he said, standing back up. \n The flame moved down the trail of gasoline somewhat slowly. In fact, Jack thought it would burn out before it reached the car at the rate it was going. Angelo must have been thinking the same, as he stood there watching it with paw on hip. \n After what seemed like minutes, but was in reality less than thirty seconds, the ground around the car erupted into flame. Neither fox had seen the fuse-trail actually meet the main pools, but it clearly had. Flames leaped high from the car, reaching to the metal canopy and surrounding it, as the gas inside the car ignited as well. In seconds, it was a raging inferno. \n “Let's go!” shouted Angelo, and took off running back towards the hill, in the direction of the forest from which they had just come. Jack followed, this time not at a leisurely jog as before, but more like he was trying out for the football team all over again. \n As he crested the hill, he looked back one last time at the car. The flames were now reaching twenty feet in the air, and seemed to swirl around the car like a vortex. The car itself was almost completely obscured from view by flame and the thick billowing clouds of black smoke which rose high into the sky. There would be no hiding the car now, Jack thought as he ran down the other side of the hill into the relative safety of the forest. \n\n The two foxes continued their run through the woods, slowing slightly when they began to get winded, but never fully stopping. Jack kept looking behind him, but the column of smoke from the burning car was soon obscured by the hill and the trees. At some point, he knew, the car's gas tank was going to explode, and he waited for that sound. \n They ran in a slightly different direction than they had the first time, and Jack was once again completely lost. He just followed the young grey-furred fox ahead of him, who seemed to know where he was going. \n After several more minutes, they came upon a narrow trail in the woods. It seemed to be no more than a bike path, but plainly stood out from the underbrush and flora of the ground surrounding it. Angelo stopped at the path, panting heavily, his face-fur matted with sweat. Jack stopped running as well, and bent forward to catch his breath. \n “Ok,” Angelo said after his panting slowed somewhat, “We should be ok here. This path...” He took a deep breath. “This goes to a shopping center. Lots of people ride bikes and jog here, so we won't be suspicious. We can call Vic when we get there.”\n “You should have a cell phone,” Jack suggested. \n “Yeah, tell me about it,” the kit replied. “Vic doesn't want me to have one for some reason. Maybe this will change his mind.” He started down one direction of the bike path, Jack walking next to him. \n The two walked in silence for a minute, before Jack struck up conversation again. “So, what's it like living with Victor?” he asked. \n Angelo looked over at him for a moment, then returned his gaze to the path in front of them. “It's ok... I guess. I don't really have much choice, you know?”\n “I mean, does he... you know, care for you and stuff?” Jack still found the idea of the boy sleeping in a closet, even a large one, to be concerning. \n “Well, sure. He gives me money for clothes and stuff when I need it.” He flicked at the three earrings in his left ear as he said this, as if indicating them as yet another thing Victor had paid for. “We eat the same food for dinner... you know... he doesn't go out to a fancy restaurant and leave me with frozen pizza. When he does eat out, I go with him. That the kind of thing you mean?” \n “Kind of,” Jack replied. He wasn't sure himself what he was really asking. “I mean, you live in a closet, right? That's a bit weird, isn't it?”\n Angelo shrugged. “I used to sleep on his couch when I first moved in. At least the closet is sort of like my room. Got a door I can close when I want. Those apartments aren't really made for... families.” \n Jack caught the pause in the kit's speech when he spoke of families. “Are you two... a family?” he asked. \n The young fox looked back at Jack, eyes narrowed slightly. “What are you really asking here Jack? Does he... love me?” he asked. Jack just looked back at the kit but didn't respond. Angelo sighed. “Look. Vic's not my dad, and he doesn't try to be. But he doesn't treat me like garbage either. We're... friends. Friends and business partners.”\n “Hey, it's cool bro',” Jack said. “I don't mean anything by it, I'm just... trying to understand you guys, is all. You have to admit, you're not the average American family.” \n “No, we're definitely not that,” replied Angelo with a slight smile.\n\n After a few more minutes walking the path, and occasionally dodging joggers and bicycles that passed them, the two vulpines emerged from the woods behind a shopping center. As they walked around to the storefront side, Jack looked for landmarks that he could recognize, but found none. Even the name of the shopping center was alien to him. \n The pair turned the corner around the end store in the row: a pizzeria. “You wait in here,” Angelo said, “I'll go down a few stores and see if they'll let me use their phone.”\n “Don't say too much over the phone,” Jack suggested, slightly uneasily. \n “Heh, no problem there,” replied the kit. “We have a code for this kind of thing. I just say that my bike's been stolen, and where I'm at. He'll come get us when he can.”\n “Ok,” acknowledged the older fox. “Might as well get some lunch while we're here.” \n “Get like... a pitcher of root beer too,” added the little fox, making a “big” gesture with his paws. “I'm dying here,” he said, wiping the sweat from his face. \n Jack nodded. Angelo turned and started down the row of shops, while Jack entered the restaurant. The waitress seated him in a booth, and Jack ordered the requested drinks. He looked out the window at the traffic in the street. He had not heard any sirens during their run, or the explosion he was expecting, for that matter. Everything in the mall and out in the street was normal. \n Barely three minutes later, Angelo came into the restaurant, located Jack in his booth, and sat down across from him. He eyed the pitcher of soda with a broad smile and immediately poured himself a glass, then drank it down in one long pour. Sighing happily, he began to refill his glass. \n “Whew, I needed that!” said the kit as he poured. His facial fur was still matted with sweat around the forehead and sides. \n “You should take off that jacket,” Jack said. He noted that the boy had been wearing it since they left Victor's apartment that morning. “It's got to be 90 degrees out!”\n “Mmm-mmm,” replied Angelo, through the cup as he drank, and shaking his head “no”. Then after he finished, “Too dangerous.”\n\n It was nearly an hour before Victor's black car pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. The two foxes got up from the booth they had been occupying and headed for the door. Jack had already paid the check in anticipation of Victor's arrival, figuring he would probably not be in a mood to be kept waiting. \n Angelo opened the passenger side door and flipped the seat forward to provide access to the car's back seat. Rather than climb back, however, he stood back up and motioned for Jack to get into the back. \n “Really?” Jack asked, half-sarcastically. The car was a sporty coupe, and the back seat looked horribly cramped. Jack had assumed that the boy would naturally take that spot. Then again, Jack was the outsider here still. \n Angelo shrugged with a half smile, then motioned again towards the back seat. Jack sighed and stooped forward to climb in. As he bent down, Angelo whispered in his ear, “Trust me...”. Jack stopped for a moment and looked at him. \n “Come on, guys!” Victor said, irritation evident in his voice. Jack quickly climbed into the back seat, and Angelo got in the front. The ferret threw the car in gear and pulled away rapidly from the restaurant's curb. \n “So what the fuck happened?” Victor asked almost immediately. \n Jack was about to answer when Angelo cut him off. “Cops made the car as stolen,” the young fox said. \n “What? How do you know that they knew?” the ferret replied, putting emphasis on “you”. It sounded almost accusatory to Jack. \n “Oh gee, let me think,” Angelo replied back sarcastically. “Driver, throw the keys out the window? That ain't gonna be a ticket for a busted light!”\n “Classic Felony Stop,” chimed in Jack from the back. \n Victor looked at him intently in the rear-view mirror for a second, before returning his attention to the younger fox. “So they pulled you over? What, were you driving like an asshole or something?” He again looked at Jack in the mirror, the accusation plain in the ferrets black eyes. \n “No, nothing like that,” the kit replied. “He was driving real careful. We got to a train crossing coming down, and I guess the cop was bored or something. Must have called in the plates.”\n “Fuck,” Victor said plainly, then fell silent for a minute. “How many deliveries did you make?” \n “Got all of the first run done. We were just heading home for the next batch,” Angelo replied, slightly uneasily, Jack thought. The bombshell was still to be dropped. \n “Ok,” Victor said calmly, ruminating. Then abruptly, “Wait... wait a fucking second here. If you got pulled over, and the cops knew about the car, then how come you're here and the car's not?” The agitation was back in his voice. \n Angelo giggled slightly, prompting an angry look from the ferret. “Oh, you'll love this part!” he said. “You want to tell him Jack?”\n “Tell me what?” Victor asked, now sounding curious. \n Jack sat forward in the seat. “Well,” he began, “he stopped us at the train crossing right as the gate came down. So I kinda... blasted through the gates right before the train came through.” It sounded unbelievable to Jack to say the words even now. \n Victor's mood changed abruptly. “NO! No you didn't!” he said excitedly. Jack nodded. The ferret looked to Angelo who also nodded. “Holy shit, I knew it! Didn't I tell you he had it in him?” he asked, elbowing the grey fox kit's arm. \n “Yep, you sure did!”\n Victor looked back at Jack in the mirror. “Damn, boy, I knew you were cut out for this business! I could tell!” Jack just smiled and said nothing. Victor continued. “Raced a train. Fuck me! Left that cop with his dick in his hand, didn't you?”\n Angelo giggled again at that. “You betcha! He didn't know what the fuck just happened!” he said brightly. \n Victor laughed then fell silent again. Jack sat back in the seat nervously. Still that bombshell coming. \n “Hey, you know what?” Victor said, again elbowing Angelo's arm. “How about tomorrow you do one of your school runs? Give ol' Jack here a little taste of that side of the business?”\n “Sure thing, Vic!” the boy replied. \n “So...” the ferret continued conversationally, “Where's the car?”\n Angelo said nothing this time. Victor looked at him, then at Jack in the mirror. “Umm, the car?” he asked them again. Jack cleared his throat. \n “Yeah,” began Angelo, again cutting off Jack. “Well, you remember that old mine by the railroad tracks, up by where we used to live?” \n “Uh-huh...”\n “Yep, we stashed it there.”\n “Nice,” Victor replied approvingly. “Good spot to hide it till the heat blows over.”\n “Yeah,” Angelo said uneasily. “Yeah... I torched it.” \n Silence.\n The ferret's paws tightened on the steering wheel. “What...” he said in a low icy voice, almost a growl. “Torched... the car...”\n “It was the right thing to do, Vic,” the little fox said. \n “You torched the car?” Victor asked again, his voice louder now, and tinged with disbelief. \n “Our paw prints and fur were all over it. Yours too,” Angelo explained. \n “He torched the car!” Victor said incredulously, to nobody in particular. \n “It was the right thing to do,” Angelo repeated, louder this time. \n Victor exploded. “The FUCK do you know?” he shouted at the boy. “It ain't for YOU to say what's right in MY business! How many FUCKING TIMES do I have to say this?” \n “It WAS right!” Angelo shouted back. “And you KNOW it was! We had to ditch the car, and couldn't ever use it again, so...”\n “That's NOT YOUR CALL!” Victor screamed now, cutting the young fox off in mid-sentence. “GRRAAAGGGHHHH!!!” the ferret screamed wordlessly, shaking the wheel as if trying to rip it off of the steering column. \n “He's right, Victor,” Jack said, trying to back up the little fox who was getting the brunt of this tirade. \n “Jack!” Victor interjected abruptly. “Shut the fuck up. This doesn't concern you.” \n “Vic,” Angelo started, before being cut off by the ferret again.\n “No!” he said, still shouting but not the screaming of moments before. “Not here! We'll talk about this back at the apartment.”\n Jack leaned forward again. Victor's eyes caught the motion and his whole head turned slightly to stare down the red fox in the mirror. Jack caught his reflected gaze which unmistakeably said “Don't say a fucking word”. He sat back heavily in the seat, resigned. \n The rest of the trip was silence. Victor would periodically grip the wheel tightly, and Jack could hear his breathing get worked up into an enraged panting before settling back into a more normal rhythm. Jack could tell the ferret was seething over their actions, probably having his discussion with Angelo in his mind before they got home. \n Jack's eyes moved to the young fox in the passenger seat. Angelo was staring out the side window, as if avoiding eye contact with Victor. His ears were set firmly forward though, in an aggressive rather than a guilty or submissive posture. \n A tinge of nervousness went through the older fox's belly. He started to feel worried for the kit, unsure of what was going to transpire when they got back to the apartments, and feeling a need to stand with him in solidarity. Or in protection? Victor's temper was clear, both in its intensity and unpredictability. If he were to take out his anger on the boy physically...\n Then what, Jack thought. Was he prepared to get into a physical altercation with this ferret? What would that lead to? For some reason, Jack expected Victor to carry a gun. If he tried to interfere with Victor's business, which he was clearly very protective of... then what? Jack's mind was racing, playing forward five scenarios at once, ranging from him calming Victor down to the ferret shooting him for interfering. Each scenario ending with the same thought: Then what?\n\n The car sped into the parking lot of the apartments, its driver paying no attention to any posted speed limits, or common sense. Victor whipped the car into the parking space in front of his house and shut it down. Angelo immediately opened his door and got out. \n Victor looked at him angrily as he did so, and opened his own door and stood abruptly. “You!” he snapped at the young grey-furred kit. “Inside.” \n The little fox started towards the door then stopped when Victor turned back towards Jack as he climbed out. \n “Jack,” Victor began, tersely but not angrily. “Tomorrow. Same routine. I wont be here.” He reached out and grabbed the red fox's paw and pressed a folded hundred-dollar bill into it, then paused for a second, thinking. “Can you use your car for a while? Gas will be on me.”\n “Yeah, sure,” Jack replied, “Look, I think I owe you a refund for the gas tank...” he began, offering the hundred back to the ferret. \n “Nope,” Victor replied, pushing Jack's paw back towards his chest. “You did the work, you take the fucking money.”\n “Vic...” Jack said, trying to find an opening to intervene on Angelo's behalf. The ferret cut him off again, his expression starting to go back towards the intensely withering gaze he had loosed in the car. \n “Jack. Tomorrow.” He nodded at Jack. The fox looked to Angelo. Victor caught his eyes and turned back towards the younger fox. “Inside!” he barked. \n Jack looked helplessly at Angelo. The boy gave him a wan smile and a small reassuring nod before turning back towards the apartment. \n Victor looked back to Jack. “Tomorrow,” he said dismissively, and stared at the red fox. Jack nodded and started back towards his own apartment. He looked back and saw Victor's apartment door wide open. Angelo had already unlocked it and gone inside. Victor walked purposefully inside after him and slammed the door. \n The parking lot seemed eerily silent to Jack, as he walked back to his own door. He stopped on the stoop and looked back towards the ferret's door for a moment before going into his apartment. \n Once inside, the teen fox opened the curtains on his window and stared across the parking lot at the closed curtains of Victor's and Angelo's place. Jack didn't know what he expected to happen, or what he would do if something did happen. But he stood there staring for a good five minutes, the air from the window air conditioner blowing onto his chest. \n The adrenaline from the days activities finally left him completely, now that he was safe in his own house, and a profound sense of tiredness suddenly crept over his frame. \n He turned away from the window and sat down heavily in his recliner. Thinking for a moment, the fox got up and pulled the chair forward and turned it towards his window, then fell back heavily into it. \n Jack sat there for some time staring across the parking lot before the fatigue got the better of him and he fell asleep. \n\nTo be continued...\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Disclaimer: This story is part of a series, entitled “Dangerous Games”. The series contains non-human anthropomorphic animal (“Furry”) characters of varying ages, adult and cub. While there are no overt sexual acts depicted in this series, the stories will contain adult themes, topics, and situations, which may not be legal in some jurisdictions. These include: frank discussions of sexual acts and character sexuality, alcohol and drug use, criminal acts, violence, adult language, weapons including guns and knives, bloodshed, grievous bodily harm, death, and events which depict underage characters in peril.  

It is up to the reader to be aware of the laws regarding depictions of such material in their place of residence. If you are not allowed to read such material, due to age, religion, place of residence, or any other factor, do not continue.

This story and all characters are copyright Shryke. This is a work of fiction. All events and persons depicted are fictional, and any similarities with actual events or persons is purely coincidental.



DANGEROUS GAMES
by Shryke
Part 2

          The car's engine roared, and with a surge the vehicle smashed through the railroad crossing arm and flew across the tracks, missing being broadsided by the oncoming train by less than fifty feet. The sound of the train's horn blaring still rang in Jack's ears as he raced down the road. The police officer who had been behind them was taken by surprise and had not been able to get back into his car before the train had thoroughly blocked the street. It would probably be five minutes before the whole thing had passed through and re-opened the road.
          “Yeeeeessss!” Angelo screamed, punching the car's roof, as they sped clear of the tracks.          
          “Holy shit...” Jack panted. He was nearly hyperventilating at the adrenaline rush. “Holy SHIT, we made it!” he shouted, watching the train slowly rolling in his rear view mirror. Looking ahead, he could see the road signs indicating the freeway was less than a mile ahead. “We actually made it!”
          “Not yet! Turn there past that gas station,” Angelo ordered, rapid-fire. “There! There!” he said, pointing excitedly.
          “What?” Jack inquired. The interstate on-ramp was nearly in view.
          “DO IT,” the younger fox commanded loudly, “Turn right! There!”          
          Jack hesitated for a moment, then hit the brakes hard and nearly spun the car turning it onto the commanded side-street. As soon as the car was stable again he sped back up and headed down the side street. This was a small two-lane road with many turns and curves.
          “The freeway was right there,” Jack barked accusingly, “What the hell are we doing here, we need to get away from that cop before the train passes.”
          “No!” Angelo barked back. “That's where the rest of them will be waiting for you. Turn left right there!” he said, pointing to another smaller side-street. “We need to get this car hidden fast, before they get a helicopter up.”
          Jack pondered this, and it did make sense. He had seen the officer on the radio, so doubtless there were dozens of police now looking for them.
          “Also, slow down,” Angelo said, quieter now. “Nobody's following us, so its time to look normal now.”
          Jack nodded and slowed the car down to an inconspicuous speed. He kept nervously checking his mirrors, but there was nobody behind him within sight. “So where are we going?”
          “I used to live up this way, before... well, before,” he replied. “There's a good spot where I used to hang out sometimes. It's an old abandoned mine entrance. We should be able to ditch the car there. Just watch for cops. And helicopters. Turn right at that stop sign.”
          Jack noted that the little grey-furred fox was still rather agitated, which was apparent from his clipped speech and jumpiness. The combination of the coke he had inhaled at the last drop-off, and the adrenaline from playing chicken with a freight train, must have had him ready to jump out of his skin, Jack thought.
          The road curved around to the right some, and Jack figured they were now heading back in the general direction of the train tracks, though a mile or so off of the main road they had been on. He had his window rolled down now, to listen for sirens or a helicopter, but so far at least, they were still in the clear.
          “Left turn here,” Angelo said, his head checking all directions as well.
          Jack turned the car accordingly. This road was nearly a one-lane service road, with no houses or cars in sight. To the left was a forest, and to the right was a hill that followed the road, as if it had been built to separate the road from whatever was on the other side. The continued down the road for a minute or so.
          “Turn right, there at that little driveway-looking thing, then stop,” Angelo said, pointing to a point ahead where the hill dropped to almost street level, as if a driveway were there, though it appeared to be just more grass. As they got closer, Jack could see an overgrown dirt road that went up through the low point in the hill. There were two concrete posts with a chain across them to block access. He slowed the car and turned up the dirt road, again checking for any vehicles in sight, then stopped at the chain.
          Angelo hopped out of the car and ran up to the chain and un-hooked it from one of the posts. With a wave he beckoned Jack to drive the car through the opening, then ran around behind and re-hooked the chain before climbing back into the car.
          “Ok, go slow now, this is all dirt. Don't want to kick up too much dust,” the young fox instructed. “Follow it all the way around 'till you have to drive up on the tracks,” he concluded nonchalantly.
          “Drive... on the railroad tracks?” Jack asked incredulously.
          Angelo laughed. “Don't worry, it's not the main tracks. It's an old side-track that led to this old mine.”
          Jack followed the dirt road slowly along. The car was now hidden from view between the hill on the left and a smaller one of similar construction on the right. Jack figured the main tracks were now just over the hill to the right.
          After a minute or so of driving on the little dirt road, it sloped up to the level of the right-side hill, and the railroad siding came into view. They were heavily rusted, in striking contrast to the active main tracks a few yards further away.
          “Ok now, time to get blenderized,” Angelo said with a grin. “Go left on the tracks 'till you get to the mine.”
          Jack turned onto the rusted old tracks and slowly bounced the car along them as they curved to the left, heading away from the main tracks. Several times the car's underside scraped against the rails or the ties with a violent crash. Jack wasn't concerned, as he knew they would likely not need to preserve this car much longer. He chuckled at the irony, as he had just gotten the car fixed the previous day, and had only gotten half of one day's use out of it.
          Ahead, as the track continued to curve, Jack could see old piles of garbage, debris, and old rails and ties begin to come into view. An old rusting metal canopy stood over a fifty-foot section of the track, with what looked to be the mine entrance just beyond it. The place looked like it had been abandoned for decades.
          Jack needed no prodding to pull the car under the protection of the metal canopy. It would be well hidden from view from the air. He bounced the car the last few feet along until they were safely under the middle of it, and shut the car off.
          Angelo opened his door and listened for a moment before stepping out onto the gravel of the rail bed. Jack put his head back against the seat back and took several deep breaths, the adrenaline rush only just beginning to fade as they were now relatively safe. He closed his eyes and chuckled, almost giggled to himself, partly in relief and partly at the near absurdity of the situation he was in.
          “Jack?” he heard Angelo ask. The boy had now come around to the driver's side and had obviously noticed the older fox's odd behavior. Jack opened his eyes and looked at the little grey-furred fox standing by the door.
          “Yup,” he said, “I'm good.” Jack took the hem of his shirt and began to wipe the steering wheel with it, trying to remove any paw-prints from it. He knew this would be a fruitless exercise, as his prints were all over the car, inside and out, from the work he had done on the gas tank. No doubt they were firmly enshrined in grease on the bottom of the car.
          “C'mon,” Angelo said, tugging at Jacks shirt. “Don't worry about that, I'll fix all this later. Right now we have to get away from here.”
          “Right,” replied Jack, not sure how the younger fox intended to “fix” this, but following along anyway. He got out of the car, and tossed the key on the seat, again wiping it off first. “I'll leave the key. Maybe we'll get lucky and someone will steal our stolen car,” he said with an ironic tone.
          Angelo laughed. “Yep, who knows,” he said with a grin. “Lets head for the woods. We'll wait there for a bit 'till the heat dies down some.” He indicated the dense forest that started immediately behind the entrance to the old mine, and seemed to go on for miles. Jack nodded, and Angelo took off running towards the forest.
          Jack followed at a jog, keeping the little fox ahead in sight but not trying to keep up with him as they travelled into the woods. It was a fairly dense forest, probably the result of hundreds of years of uninterrupted growth, if not more. In the height of summertime, the canopy overhead would make any aerial view impossible, so it was a good place to hide out.
          Angelo kept running, stopping and turning every so often to make sure Jack was still behind him, before taking off again. The two ran deeper into the woods for almost five minutes before Angelo slowed and stopped against a large tree, panting heavily. Jack caught up to him, winded himself in spite of the gentler pace he had taken.
          “Ok...” Angelo panted, “I think... we can stop here...” He bent at the waist, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees.
          Jack looked around. There was no sign of civilization in any direction. He took a mental bearing on the direction they had come from—he did not want to get lost here. “Do you know where we are?” he asked the boy.
          “Yeah, sure,” Angelo replied. He had now caught his breath and sat down on the ground. “I used to live in an apartment up thataway,” he said, pointing off in another direction, “It backed up to this same forest, and I'd ride my bike here all the time. I used to hang out at that mine and watch the trains. That was back...” he trailed off.
          Jack took note of this. It had clearly brought back memories of the kit's past. Jack changed the subject to the more pressing matter. “So how long do we need to wait here?”
          “Half hour,” Angelo replied quietly. “Maybe an hour. Depends on if we hear sirens or choppers or anything.” He leaned forward and idly drew circles in the dirt.
          Jack paced slowly, again taking mental inventory of his situation. “Half hour,” he said aloud, then laughed. Angelo looked up at him questioningly. “Jeez, I'm eighteen and I'm on the run from the cops. Not how I envisioned my summer going, I gotta be honest.”
          The kit stood up and brushed the dirt from his pants. “Well, its not like this is where I thought I'd be in my life either,” he said with a wry smile. “But the job's not always like this, I promise!”
          Jack chuckled. “You're what... ten? Eleven?” he asked.
          “Eleven,” the kit replied. “And a half!”
          “Oh, “and a half”, well, excuse me!” Jack said with a grin. Those six months were always so important to kits, he mused. His little sister was about the same age, and said the same thing. Angelo shrugged matter-of-factly. Jack reached a hand out to pat his head, but the kit instinctively backed away from the contact as if startled, before catching himself with a slightly embarrassed smile. He did not, however, go back into petting range.
          “So,” Jack began after a moment, “How did you come to be where you are, then?” he asked, once again trying not to sound like he was prying. There was a backstory to this kid, Jack thought, and he felt he needed to know how Angelo's life had unfolded so as to bring him to this spot in the woods.
          “How?” Angelo asked, head-tilting slightly.
          “Yeah,” Jack replied. “Victor gave me the Reader's Digest version, remember? And you were going to fill in the rest?” he said, referring back to the conversation in Victor's apartment.
          “Heh, I did say that, didn't I?” the kit replied. “It's kind of a... complex story, I guess. You sure you want to hear it?”
          “Well, we got plenty of time, right?” Jack said. “Are you sure that... you want to talk about it though?” he asked, remembering the sad tone in the boy's voice as he mentioned riding down to the mine in his past.
          Angelo chucked. “It's not that bad,” he said. “Where you want me to start?”
          “Well... Victor said your dad died a long time ago?” Jack figured that this would be easier to talk about, given the time passed, and the fact that Angelo would have been very young.
          The kit nodded. “Yeah. He left us when I was five or six. Got himself knifed in a bar fight a couple years later. Killed over a pitcher of beer. Nice guy, huh?”
          “He left you?” Jack inquired.
          “Yep, left my mom and me. She wanted to get a job to get some extra money coming in, and he wouldn't let her. She did anyway, so he took off.”
          “Whoa,” Jack said, shocked by this. “Just because she wanted a job?”
          “Mmm-hmm,” said the little fox. “They never had a lot of money, and when I was born it just made it worse. I guess he took it personally. Like her wanting to help meant he wasn't doing his job or something.” He shrugged, no trace of emotion in his face.
          “Wow, that sucks,” was all Jack could think to say.
          “Yeah, but whatever,” Angelo replied with another shrug. “I was “an accident” apparently, and he didn't have a problem reminding me of that fact. Often. We were better off without him. At least then we could get some state money to help.”          
          The kit still showed no emotion as he spoke, but began to pace about again. Jack couldn't think of anything to say to that. He wanted to comfort the younger fox, but restrained himself, recalling his previous attempt at friendly contact.
          “So then your mom,” Jack continued, “How'd she die? You don't have to answer if...”
          “How?” Angelo interrupted, his voice slightly louder. “Ripped apart by some big horse-guy's cock, hopefully.” His voice had a tinge of anger to it now, as he continued to pace.
          Jack was taken aback by this outburst. It seemed a glaring non-sequitur when taken with everything Jack knew, or thought he knew at least, about this young kit.
          “Wait, wait,” Jack said, almost stammering, “You mean... she's not dead?”
          Angelo stopped his pacing and looked at Jack, his face again expressionless. “Today? I don't know. Don't care either.” He turned away and resumed pacing, slower than before.
          “No, no, wait,” Jack said, still trying to wrap his brain around this new revelation. “So... you did run away! But I thought... Victor said...”
          “You don't know how it was, Jack,” Angelo said, turning back towards the red fox.
          “Don't be so sure,” Jack replied, thinking back to his early teenage years when he similarly tried to escape his home-life. “I ran away a couple times when I was about your age,” he began.
          “Jack!” Angelo interrupted again, stepping closer, “I like you, Jack. I do. But you don't know what you're talking about here.”
          “I'm telling you, I've been there!” Jack retorted. “I know what it's like to want to get away from your parents. I know that you might think that running away is going to make things better, but...”
          “NO!” Angelo shouted, cutting off Jack in his tracks. “You don't GET it! I'M not the one who ran away!” he yelled angrily, pointing at his chest with his thumb for emphasis. He turned and walked several paces away, angrily kicking a rock as he did so.
          Jack stared for a moment, stunned by the revelation. He couldn't think of anything to say; indeed there was nothing that could be said. He just sat down where he stood, cross-legged, and stared at the ground at Angelo's feet.
          The grey-furred kit still had his back to Jack, and his paws were balled up into fists. After a moment, the fists relaxed and the kit half turned to look back at Jack. The older fox looked up from where he sat, his ears flat against his head with guilt. He wanted to say that he was sorry for forcing the issue, but still said nothing.
          Angelo turned fully back towards Jack, then slowly walked back over to where he sat, and sat down across from him. There was a faint hint of sadness to his face now. Neither spoke for several seconds.
          “You remember that bad fox-flu that was going around a few years ago?” Angelo finally said. His tone was casual and conversational—the way one would ask about the weather. So much so that Jack initially thought he was changing the subject abruptly.
          “Yeah,” Jack replied softly, still feeling bad, “I remember that.”
          Angelo nodded. “Well, I had a bad case of that. Really bad. I was puking every ten minutes, couldn't eat or drink anything... not fun.”
          “When was this?” Jack asked.
          The little fox thought for a moment. “Oh, right about when I turned ten, so... a year and a half ago?”
          Jack nodded. He now realized that Angelo was telling the story about his mother.
          The kit continued. “I had to go to the hospital, 'cause even a sip of water would make me puke. They hooked me up to all these IV bags of stuff. One full of saline, one with... potassium I think it was, and one that was nutrients. Liquid lunch, yummy. They said I would probably be there for a week. Maybe longer.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “Remember, we didn't have much money. We definitely didn't have any insurance. Me lying there being pumped full of saline for a week was going to cost a ton of money that we didn't have. You know what saline really is?”
          “It's like salt?” Jack offered.
          “Yeah, salt water,” Angelo said with audible annoyance. “How much were they going to charge us for ten bucks worth of salt water? Anyway,” he continued, his voice losing the annoyed tone, “she was there for the first couple of days, then said she had to go home to take care of some things, but would be back. You can guess what happened next.”
          “She never came back...” Jack said softly.
          “You got it. At first I figured it was because of a snowstorm that hit that day. But I called our number... no answer. Two days go by... three... still nothing. No answer on the phone and no sign of her at the hospital. Called her work number, and they said she hadn't been there since before I got sick.”
          “Did they ever find her?” Jack inquired, though he already knew the answer.
          “Cops went by the apartment looking for her. They got the manager to let them in. Everything was normal inside, except that a lot of her clothes were gone. Dresser drawers hanging open, empty. Closet mostly empty. She skipped town on me.” Angelo spoke this last part with a tinge of anger. “She skipped town while I'm lying there alone with needles and tubes in me.”
          “Jeez, Ange...” Jack began.
          The little fox resumed, before Jack could get any more out. “When the snow melted, they found her car at the downtown bus station. So she took off right after leaving the hospital.”
          “Maybe she just panicked?” Jack suggested. “Because of the hospital expenses?”
          “Oh she panicked all right,” Angelo replied. “Cops said they'd seen it before, and that the mother usually comes back in a few days, after getting her head straight. So once I was better, they put me in this short-term orphanage to wait and see if she came back.”
          “And she never did,” Jack said, finishing Angelo's sentence.
          “Nope,” the kit said. “You remember Vic called orphanages “prisons”? Well that's what this one felt like. One big room with twenty or so beds lined up against the wall. One big shower room that everyone used together. One big cafeteria where we all ate. And the staff that didn't care as long as the count of kits was right at the end of the day. I met this one lion there. He was sixteen, and had been in orphanages as long as he could remember. He gave me the scoop on what the system was all about. No way I was going to stay there for long after talking to him.
          “Anyway, after a month, the cops came back and said there was no sign of my mom anywhere, even checking with other states. So they officially listed her as “missing” and me as “abandoned” and said I would be moved to a permanent house soon. So I bailed. Ran away during the after-lunch recess.”
          “Wow,” Jack said, “That's...”
          “Fucked up?” Angelo said, now finishing Jack's sentence. “I agree fully, but there it is.”
          “So, how does Victor fit into all this?” Jack asked.
          “Victor, yes,” Angelo replied. “Well he lived in the same apartment complex as we did. The one past these woods. He got to know my mom. They would talk a lot, sometimes he'd come over for dinner. I think he probably just wanted to bone her, but whatever. Anyway, one time when he was over, he told stories about his time in orphanages, so I thought of him when I ran away. He had given her and me his cell phone number once, in case we ever needed anything. I remembered it because it spells out a word on the phone keys. So I called him and told him what was up. He came and got me and, well, you know the rest.”
          He fell silent and just looked at Jack. Jack found it hard to make eye contact as he dug for words—something, anything to soften the punch of Angelo's story. He just let out a sigh as he stared at the ground.
          “Your turn!” Angelo said brightly, breaking the silence after a moment.
          Jack looked up into the kit's blue eyes. “My turn?” he repeated.
          “Yep,” the young fox replied, “You heard my life story, so now it's your turn!”
          “Well,” Jack said, slowly. He suddenly felt self-conscious about talking about himself. “I really don't know where to begin. There's not much to tell really.”
          “Uh-huh,” Angelo replied, with an over-exaggerated tone of skepticism. “Well, how 'bout this: you said you ran away from home when you were my age. What was that all about?”
          “Hmm, right,” Jack said, nodding. “That's a bit of a long story too, I guess.”
          “I knew it!” the little fox replied enthusiastically, with a smile. “Go for it!”
          “Ok,” Jack began, again feeling tinges of self-consciousness creeping in. In retrospect, he mused, this story was rather embarrassing. Even now he could hardly believe that he had ever truly acted this way. “Well, I was what you might call... a spoiled brat when I was a kit.”
          Angelo giggled at this. “Oh really?” he asked, ears perking slightly.
          “Yeah,” Jack replied. “I was. My parents call themselves “new age hippies”, or at least they used to. They told themselves early on that when they had kids, they wouldn't ever use any kind of real discipline, but rather use “time-outs” and stern tones of voice when they needed to. That worked until I was maybe... four. I learned pretty quick that they were never going to do any more than that, so I pretty much did whatever I wanted to. So by the time I was your age...”
          “You were a brat,” Angelo said, completing the thought for Jack. “As in... really bad?”
          “Oh yes,” Jack confirmed with a nod. “I would...”. He trailed off. This part was particularly humiliating. “I would throw screaming tantrums all the time when I didn't get my way.” He chuckled slightly as he saw Angelo recoil slightly and tilt his head in surprise. “Yeah, I feel the same way about it now too,” Jack continued. “Didn't matter where, didn't matter why. If my breakfast cereal was even slightly mushy I'd go off.”
          “Wow...” said the younger fox, his voice a mixed tone of disbelief with a touch of disapproval. “And your folks did nothing?”
          “Nothing,” replied Jack, no longer making eye contact with the kit. “It got to the point where they'd just give in to my demands, and do whatever I wanted, just to avoid the inevitable temper tantrum. So I did just that. Whatever I wanted, I mean. They thought it was a phase, and I'd grow out of it.”
          “A six year phase?” the little grey-furred fox said sarcastically. “I assume that didn't happen, of course.”
          “Oh hell no,” said Jack. “By the time I was... oh, thirteen or so, I was hanging out with the pot-heads, skipping classes, and forget about homework. I had no concept of responsibility. None. One time...”, he paused with a laugh. “Once I left the front door wide open when I left for school. Just walked out and didn't even think to close it.” He laughed again, remembering. “Fortunately the neighbor across the street saw the door hanging open, otherwise that could have been a bad scene.”
          “But you still did go to school, then?” asked the kit.
          “Yeah, I did,” said Jack, “But only ever enough to just squeak by so I wouldn't fail. And the only reason I did that was so my friends wouldn't give me crap for getting held back. That was the only reason. I couldn't care less how it would affect my life beyond that.”
          Angelo nodded. “And your parents still didn't see the problem with this?” he asked.
          Jack shook his head. “I think at this point they'd given up on me,”  he said with a touch of sadness. “By that time, my little sister was six or so, and they focused on her. I guess they wanted to try it all again on her. Meanwhile... I pretty much ran wild.”
          “That when you ran away?” inquired the little fox.
          “Nah,” said Jack, “I was king of my own world at that point. Why would I want to leave? No, what happened was that two years go by, and now my sister starts acting like I had when I was her age.”
          “Uh-oh,” said Angelo with a half-smile.
          “You got it,” Jack replied with a nod. “My folks finally got the message that their cub-rearing philosophy wasn't making it. So my dad turns to his dad for help.”
          “His dad?”
          “Yep, my granddad,” replied Jack. “He was pretty strict on my dad growing up. So much so that I think it was the reason that my dad decided to not be strict on us. But he knew first-hand how it was, and that he would never have been allowed to act the way I was... the way my sister was starting to as well.”
          “So, what happened?”, inquired the cub.
          “What happened,” Jack replied, “was change. Sudden, abrupt change. TV, Internet, video games... gone. They became rewards rather than rights. Curfews got imposed, under penalty of being grounded. And the “time outs”? They got replaced by being grabbed by the scruff of the neck and bodily thrown into my room.” He paused, another embarrassing part coming up. “I'd been getting my way for years, no questions asked. So naturally this all came as a bit of a shock.”
          “Heh, I bet,” said Angelo with a chuckle. “How'd you take it?”
          “I took it by...” he paused with an embarrassed chuckle again. “By... crying myself to sleep for a week.”
          “No!” exclaimed the younger fox with a shocked laugh, jumping to his feet. “You didn't!”
          Jack's ears went flat against his head. “Yeah... I really did. I threw some violent screaming tantrums, but this time... nothing. So I basically threw a fit till I passed out from exhaustion. I was like fourteen.” He stared at the ground as he spoke, too humiliated to look at his companion.
          “Holy schmoley,” said Angelo, with amazement in his voice. “So this is when you ran away?”
          “Yep pretty much,” Jack replied. “I figured that my friends would let me hang with them, so I grabbed some things and left.” He chuckled again, remembering. “Turns out, they all had their own rules that they had to live by too, and none of them were going to let me just move into their basements. So... I went back home. I realized then that I really had no idea how the real world worked”
          “What happened when you got home?”
          Jack laughed out loud at this. “I got grounded for missing my curfew! I didn't even make it one night away from home!” He looked up at Angelo and laughed again. “Man, I was a brat!”
          The older fox stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. “So anyway,” he continued, “I finally resigned myself to this new way of life, and had to play by their rules. By which I mean: I had to grow the hell up and stop being such a baby.” He mused for a moment. “I don't know when it happened, but at some point I finally “got it”. I got that my folks weren't doing this to be cruel, and that they really did love us. And I got what a little bastard I'd been all my life.”
          Angelo giggled at this. Jack noted that he had resumed nervously pacing slightly, and shuffling his feet when he stood still.
          Jack went on. “So, then came high school, and I actually got decent grades, got on the football team, got a job... the whole nine yards. Those restrictions at home got eased off as my sister and I started acting like regular furs instead of assholes. And this June, I graduated, which nobody would have seen coming four years ago. Then I moved out the next day.”
          This last sentence caught the younger fox off-guard. His ears perked and he tilted his head slightly. “Huh? The next day?”
          “Yep,” confirmed Jack. “Not because of anything that happened at home though. It's just that... after all that spoiled kit routine, I just... needed to prove that I was responsible now. That I could survive on my own without having to have them bail me out of trouble. I dunno... it's kind of hard to explain, really.”
          “I think I understand,” said Angelo soberly. “Your folks taught you to be a responsible fox, but the only way you could really show them how successful they were was by leaving them.”
          Jack looked the little grey fox in his blue eyes for a moment, then nodded. “That's it exactly. You're pretty smart.”
          Angelo grinned. “Vic says I'm too smart for my own good!” He laughed as he said this. Jack again resisted the urge to fuzzle the little fox's headfur, and just smiled back.
          “Jack?” said the kit after a pause. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the car being stolen.”
          Jack nodded with a smile. “That's ok. Just please be honest with me in the future? For both our sakes?”
          “Deal!” the little fox replied. “I promise I won't lie to you.” He held out his paw for a handshake, which Jack accepted. “Technically though,” the kit continued with a grin, “I never said the car wasn't stolen!”
          Jack laughed, and this time he did reach out and fuzzle Angelo's head. The young fox made no move to avoid it.

          “Let's head back towards the mine,” Angelo said after a moment. “Slowly, though.”
          “You think it's safe?” Jack asked, nervously.
          “Should be,” came the reply. “We'll get close and see if there's anything going on. We'll be coming from the other direction, so if they have found the car, they're not going to be expecting the driver to come back. If anyone asks, we're brothers out for a stroll to watch the trains.”
          “Ok, little bro, lead the way,” said Jack. He found he liked the way it sounded; indeed, he did always want a brother growing up. Angelo too, looked back and smiled for a second or so longer than expected, as if he was pondering speaking.
          In the end, though, all he said was “C'mon,” and started back in the direction of the mine.
          Jack walked next to the young fox, noting that he was walking at a brisker pace than his instructions of “Slowly though” would imply. He was also repeatedly balling up one fist, then shaking it out like a baseball pitcher limbering up. “You ok, bud?” Jack asked.
          “Yeah, yeah,” the boy replied rapidly. “I guess it's that stuff I snorted. Giving me the shakes now.”
          “But it was “just a little coke”, I thought,” Jack replied in a friendly jibe. He hoped the kit took it that way.
          Angelo looked over at him with a smirk, but said nothing. He looked back towards the ground in front of him. “So...” he began quietly, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice, “How long... does this stuff take to wear off?” He looked back up at Jack.
          Jack thought back to the anti-drug classes he had in school. “Well, usually it's a few hours or more.” Angelo's ears dropped at this. “He supposedly gave you a smaller dose, so maybe less than that, but you're smaller too, so hell, I dunno.”
          Angelo grumbled an incomprehensible something. Jack patted his shoulder, which caused the little fox to startle again, but he didn't pull away. He was clearly not used to friendly contact like this.
          “It will wear off though,” said Jack, as reassuringly as he could be. “Then, you'll be real tired, and you won't want to do anything. Maybe get depressed or sad too. That's where the addiction comes from: people will take another snort to get rid of the down feeling and to get back that high they had.”
          “Yeah, well no thanks,” said the boy. “That first rush was kind of cool, but the rest of this is just... annoying.”
          “Good to hear,” said Jack. Angelo looked at him with a brow cocked. “Good that you're not going to do it again, I mean. Not good that it's annoying!” he said, hurriedly and with a grin.
          After a few minutes, the hill separating the woods from the railroad tracks could be seen. There had been no sound of a helicopter, nor any sirens at all, since their initial encounter back at the rail crossing. The two vulpines continued closer. As they got within fifty yards, Angelo motioned to stop.
          “Ok, you wait here, I'll check out the mine,” the young fox said, “A lone kid showing up won't be suspicious. I'll wave from the hill when it's ok to come over. If you see me wave to someone at the mine... then it's not so safe!” He grinned as he spoke the last sentence.
          Jack nodded and the little fox dashed off ahead, towards the hill. As he began to approach the top, he slowed and, with every step, looked ahead over that part of the mine which came into view. At the top he stopped, then disappeared down the other side. Jack began to slowly walk towards the hill, all the while watching the crest for Angelo to return to view.
          After a minute, he did just that, and waved vigorously for Jack to approach. The red fox broke into a run to join his grey-furred compatriot at the top of the hill. At the crest, Jack looked down at the scene. It was as eerily vacant as it had been when they left some few minutes previously. Even the car parked under the old rusting metal canopy fit the scene perfectly, looking like it had been there for years when the last of civilization abandoned this small corner of the world.
          “Ok, now to cover our tracks,” Angelo said, and rand down the hill towards the car. Jack, still unsure of exactly what he had in mind, followed at a jog.
          As Jack reached the car, Angelo was leaning in the driver's door. He stood up, keys in paw. “Make sure you've got everything out,” the kit instructed, then walked to the back of the car.
          “Already done,” replied Jack, as he walked to the rear as well. “What do you have in mind? We can't take it back on the roads now.” By which he meant that he wouldn't take it back on the roads, if that was the boy's plan.
          “Nope, don't need to,” said Angelo. “I've got something else in mind.” He turned the key in the trunk lock. “Something a little... extreme!” At this he opened the trunk lid and looked at Jack with a smile.
          Jack looked into the trunk, and didn't see it at first. It was the same trunk he saw just the prior day when working on the car. A wide, rusty, and mostly empty space. Just the usual spare tire, and the two... 5-gallon gasoline cans that he had used to fill the new fuel tank. He looked back to Angelo, his own eyes now wide. “No...” was all Jack could say.
          “Yep!” confirmed Angelo with a broad grin. “Gimme a hand here.” He grabbed one of the cans' handles and began tugging it towards the trunk's opening. The obvious weight of the thing told Jack it was full; Victor must have re-filled them after Jack had returned the car to him.
          Jack grabbed the first can and lifted it out of the trunk, then repeated with the second. Both Jerrycans were full. “Are you serious?” he asked Angelo as he placed the second one on the ground.
          “It's the only way to get rid of the evidence,” Angelo said solemnly. “There's lots of paw-prints all over it, not to mention little bits of our fur. Got a better idea?”
          Jack thought for only a second before he realized that he didn't. This was indeed an extreme move, but it made sense. “No,” said Jack with a sigh. “What's Victor going to say?”
          “Vic? Oh, he'll be ten different kinds of mad!” replied Angelo with a laugh. Then, more somberly, “But this is the right thing to do, so I'm making the call myself.”
          Jack just nodded. Angelo motioned for him to pick up one of the cans. “Take that one and pour it all over the inside. Especially where we were sitting. It's ok if it runs out onto the ground.”
          The older fox took the can and began to douse the insides of the car with gasoline. Angelo, meanwhile, took his can and knocked it over on the ground under the car's gas tank, letting fuel pour out and pool beneath the tank. When a decent amount had flowed out, he righted the can and took it to the front of the car, repeating the process under the engine.
          Jack had thoroughly soaked the car's interior, front and back seats, with fuel, such that it pooled on the floorboards and seats. The fumes within began to get overpowering, so he stepped outside to get some fresh air, coughing as he did.          
          Angelo stood up at the front of the car and brought his can over to Jack. Both cans were nearly empty. He began to pour the remainder of the gas onto the ground, leading away from the car in a trail. When his can ran out, he tossed it back under the car and continued to pour the fuse-trail from Jack's can. It too quickly ran out and joined its companion under the car. The trail was thirty or so feet long, Jack reckoned. The smell of gasoline was everywhere.
          The two foxes stood at the clear end of the gasoline trail that led back to the car. They stood there regarding the scene for a few seconds. “Ange,” Jack began, “Are you sure about this?”
          Angelo smiled at him, then produced a lighter from his jacket pocket. He winked at Jack, then lit the lighter and touched it to the gas trail on the ground. “Very sure,” he said, standing back up.
          The flame moved down the trail of gasoline somewhat slowly. In fact, Jack thought it would burn out before it reached the car at the rate it was going. Angelo must have been thinking the same, as he stood there watching it with paw on hip.
          After what seemed like minutes, but was in reality less than thirty seconds, the ground around the car erupted into flame. Neither fox had seen the fuse-trail actually meet the main pools, but it clearly had. Flames leaped high from the car, reaching to the metal canopy and surrounding it, as the gas inside the car ignited as well. In seconds, it was a raging inferno.
          “Let's go!” shouted Angelo, and took off running back towards the hill, in the direction of the forest from which they had just come. Jack followed, this time not at a leisurely jog as before, but more like he was trying out for the football team all over again.
          As he crested the hill, he looked back one last time at the car. The flames were now reaching twenty feet in the air, and seemed to swirl around the car like a vortex. The car itself was almost completely obscured from view by flame and the thick billowing clouds of black smoke which rose high into the sky. There would be no hiding the car now, Jack thought as he ran down the other side of the hill into the relative safety of the forest.

          The two foxes continued their run through the woods, slowing slightly when they began to get winded, but never fully stopping. Jack kept looking behind him, but the column of smoke from the burning car was soon obscured by the hill and the trees. At some point, he knew, the car's gas tank was going to explode, and he waited for that sound.
          They ran in a slightly different direction than they had the first time, and Jack was once again completely lost. He just followed the young grey-furred fox ahead of him, who seemed to know where he was going.
          After several more minutes, they came upon a narrow trail in the woods. It seemed to be no more than a bike path, but plainly stood out from the underbrush and flora of the ground surrounding it. Angelo stopped at the path, panting heavily, his face-fur matted with sweat. Jack stopped running as well, and bent forward to catch his breath.
          “Ok,” Angelo said after his panting slowed somewhat, “We should be ok here. This path...” He took a deep breath. “This goes to a shopping center. Lots of people ride bikes and jog here, so we won't be suspicious. We can call Vic when we get there.”
          “You should have a cell phone,” Jack suggested.
          “Yeah, tell me about it,” the kit replied. “Vic doesn't want me to have one for some reason. Maybe this will change his mind.” He started down one direction of the bike path, Jack walking next to him.
          The two walked in silence for a minute, before Jack struck up conversation again. “So, what's it like living with Victor?” he asked.
          Angelo looked over at him for a moment, then returned his gaze to the path in front of them. “It's ok... I guess. I don't really have much choice, you know?”
          “I mean, does he... you know, care for you and stuff?” Jack still found the idea of the boy sleeping in a closet, even a large one, to be concerning.
          “Well, sure. He gives me money for clothes and stuff when I need it.” He flicked at the three earrings in his left ear as he said this, as if indicating them as yet another thing Victor had paid for. “We eat the same food for dinner... you know... he doesn't go out to a fancy restaurant and leave me with frozen pizza. When he does eat out, I go with him. That the kind of thing you mean?”
          “Kind of,” Jack replied. He wasn't sure himself what he was really asking. “I mean, you live in a closet, right? That's a bit weird, isn't it?”
          Angelo shrugged. “I used to sleep on his couch when I first moved in. At least the closet is sort of like my room. Got a door I can close when I want. Those apartments aren't really made for... families.”
          Jack caught the pause in the kit's speech when he spoke of families. “Are you two... a family?” he asked.
          The young fox looked back at Jack, eyes narrowed slightly. “What are you really asking here Jack? Does he... love me?” he asked. Jack just looked back at the kit but didn't respond. Angelo sighed. “Look. Vic's not my dad, and he doesn't try to be. But he doesn't treat me like garbage either. We're... friends. Friends and business partners.”
          “Hey, it's cool bro',” Jack said. “I don't mean anything by it, I'm just... trying to understand you guys, is all. You have to admit, you're not the average American family.”
          “No, we're definitely not that,” replied Angelo with a slight smile.

          After a few more minutes walking the path, and occasionally dodging joggers and bicycles that passed them, the two vulpines emerged from the woods behind a shopping center. As they walked around to the storefront side, Jack looked for landmarks that he could recognize, but found none. Even the name of the shopping center was alien to him.
          The pair turned the corner around the end store in the row: a pizzeria. “You wait in here,” Angelo said, “I'll go down a few stores and see if they'll let me use their phone.”
          “Don't say too much over the phone,” Jack suggested, slightly uneasily.
          “Heh, no problem there,” replied the kit. “We have a code for this kind of thing. I just say that my bike's been stolen, and where I'm at. He'll come get us when he can.”
          “Ok,” acknowledged the older fox. “Might as well get some lunch while we're here.”
          “Get like... a pitcher of root beer too,” added the little fox, making a “big” gesture with his paws. “I'm dying here,” he said, wiping the sweat from his face.
          Jack nodded. Angelo turned and started down the row of shops, while Jack entered the restaurant. The waitress seated him in a booth, and Jack ordered the requested drinks. He looked out the window at the traffic in the street. He had not heard any sirens during their run, or the explosion he was expecting, for that matter. Everything in the mall and out in the street was normal.
          Barely three minutes later, Angelo came into the restaurant, located Jack in his booth, and sat down across from him. He eyed the pitcher of soda with a broad smile and immediately poured himself a glass, then drank it down in one long pour. Sighing happily, he began to refill his glass.
          “Whew, I needed that!” said the kit as he poured. His facial fur was still matted with sweat around the forehead and sides.
          “You should take off that jacket,” Jack said. He noted that the boy had been wearing it since they left Victor's apartment that morning. “It's got to be 90 degrees out!”
          “Mmm-mmm,” replied Angelo, through the cup as he drank, and shaking his head “no”. Then after he finished, “Too dangerous.”

          It was nearly an hour before Victor's black car pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. The two foxes got up from the booth they had been occupying and headed for the door. Jack had already paid the check in anticipation of Victor's arrival, figuring he would probably not be in a mood to be kept waiting.
          Angelo opened the passenger side door and flipped the seat forward to provide access to the car's back seat. Rather than climb back, however, he stood back up and motioned for Jack to get into the back.
          “Really?” Jack asked, half-sarcastically. The car was a sporty coupe, and the back seat looked horribly cramped. Jack had assumed that the boy would naturally take that spot. Then again, Jack was the outsider here still.
          Angelo shrugged with a half smile, then motioned again towards the back seat. Jack sighed and stooped forward to climb in. As he bent down, Angelo whispered in his ear, “Trust me...”. Jack stopped for a moment and looked at him.
          “Come on, guys!” Victor said, irritation evident in his voice. Jack quickly climbed into the back seat, and Angelo got in the front. The ferret threw the car in gear and pulled away rapidly from the restaurant's curb.
          “So what the fuck happened?” Victor asked almost immediately.
          Jack was about to answer when Angelo cut him off. “Cops made the car as stolen,” the young fox said.
          “What? How do you know that they knew?” the ferret replied, putting emphasis on “you”. It sounded almost accusatory to Jack.
          “Oh gee, let me think,” Angelo replied back sarcastically. “Driver, throw the keys out the window? That ain't gonna be a ticket for a busted light!”
          “Classic Felony Stop,” chimed in Jack from the back.
          Victor looked at him intently in the rear-view mirror for a second, before returning his attention to the younger fox. “So they pulled you over? What, were you driving like an asshole or something?” He again looked at Jack in the mirror, the accusation plain in the ferrets black eyes.
          “No, nothing like that,” the kit replied. “He was driving real careful. We got to a train crossing coming down, and I guess the cop was bored or something. Must have called in the plates.”
          “Fuck,” Victor said plainly, then fell silent for a minute. “How many deliveries did you make?”
          “Got all of the first run done. We were just heading home for the next batch,” Angelo replied, slightly uneasily, Jack thought. The bombshell was still to be dropped.
          “Ok,” Victor said calmly, ruminating. Then abruptly, “Wait... wait a fucking second here. If you got pulled over, and the cops knew about the car, then how come you're here and the car's not?” The agitation was back in his voice.
          Angelo giggled slightly, prompting an angry look from the ferret. “Oh, you'll love this part!” he said. “You want to tell him Jack?”
          “Tell me what?” Victor asked, now sounding curious.
          Jack sat forward in the seat. “Well,” he began, “he stopped us at the train crossing right as the gate came down. So I kinda... blasted through the gates right before the train came through.” It  sounded unbelievable to Jack to say the words even now.
          Victor's mood changed abruptly. “NO! No you didn't!” he said excitedly. Jack nodded. The ferret looked to Angelo who also nodded. “Holy shit, I knew it! Didn't I tell you he had it in him?” he asked, elbowing the grey fox kit's arm.
          “Yep, you sure did!”
          Victor looked back at Jack in the mirror. “Damn, boy, I knew you were cut out for this business! I could tell!” Jack just smiled and said nothing. Victor continued. “Raced a train. Fuck me! Left that cop with his dick in his hand, didn't you?”
          Angelo giggled again at that. “You betcha! He didn't know what the fuck just happened!” he said brightly.
          Victor laughed then fell silent again. Jack sat back in the seat nervously. Still that bombshell coming.
          “Hey, you know what?” Victor said, again elbowing Angelo's arm. “How about tomorrow you do one of your school runs? Give ol' Jack here a little taste of that side of the business?”
          “Sure thing, Vic!” the boy replied.
          “So...” the ferret continued conversationally, “Where's the car?”
          Angelo said nothing this time. Victor looked at him, then at Jack in the mirror. “Umm, the car?” he asked them again. Jack cleared his throat.
          “Yeah,” began Angelo, again cutting off Jack. “Well, you remember that old mine by the railroad tracks, up by where we used to live?”
          “Uh-huh...”
          “Yep, we stashed it there.”
          “Nice,” Victor replied approvingly. “Good spot to hide it till the heat blows over.”
          “Yeah,” Angelo said uneasily. “Yeah... I torched it.”
          Silence.
          The ferret's paws tightened on the steering wheel. “What...” he said in a low icy voice, almost a growl. “Torched... the car...”
          “It was the right thing to do, Vic,” the little fox said.
          “You torched the car?” Victor asked again, his voice louder now, and tinged with disbelief.
          “Our paw prints and fur were all over it. Yours too,” Angelo explained.
          “He torched the car!” Victor said incredulously, to nobody in particular.
          “It was the right thing to do,” Angelo repeated, louder this time.
          Victor exploded. “The FUCK do you know?” he shouted at the boy. “It ain't for YOU to say what's right in MY business! How many FUCKING TIMES do I have to say this?”
          “It WAS right!” Angelo shouted back. “And you KNOW it was! We had to ditch the car, and couldn't ever use it again, so...”
          “That's NOT YOUR CALL!” Victor screamed now, cutting the young fox off in mid-sentence. “GRRAAAGGGHHHH!!!” the ferret screamed wordlessly, shaking the wheel as if trying to rip it off of the steering column.
          “He's right, Victor,” Jack said, trying to back up the little fox who was getting the brunt of this tirade.
          “Jack!” Victor interjected abruptly. “Shut the fuck up. This doesn't concern you.”
          “Vic,” Angelo started, before being cut off by the ferret again.
          “No!” he said, still shouting but not the screaming of moments before. “Not here! We'll talk about this back at the apartment.”
          Jack leaned forward again. Victor's eyes caught the motion and his whole head turned slightly to stare down the red fox in the mirror. Jack caught his reflected gaze which unmistakeably said “Don't say a fucking word”. He sat back heavily in the seat, resigned.
          The rest of the trip was silence. Victor would periodically grip the wheel tightly, and Jack could hear his breathing get worked up into an enraged panting before settling back into a more normal rhythm. Jack could tell the ferret was seething over their actions, probably having his discussion with Angelo in his mind before they got home.
          Jack's eyes moved to the young fox in the passenger seat. Angelo was staring out the side window, as if avoiding eye contact with Victor. His ears were set firmly forward though, in an aggressive rather than a guilty or submissive posture.
          A tinge of nervousness went through the older fox's belly. He started to feel worried for the kit, unsure of what was going to transpire when they got back to the apartments, and feeling a need to stand with him in solidarity. Or in protection? Victor's temper was clear, both in its intensity and unpredictability. If he were to take out his anger on the boy physically...
          Then what, Jack thought. Was he prepared to get into a physical altercation with this ferret? What would that lead to? For some reason, Jack expected Victor to carry a gun. If he tried to interfere with Victor's business, which he was clearly very protective of... then what? Jack's mind was racing, playing forward five scenarios at once, ranging from him calming Victor down to the ferret shooting him for interfering. Each scenario ending with the same thought: Then what?

          The car sped into the parking lot of the apartments, its driver paying no attention to any posted speed limits, or common sense. Victor whipped the car into the parking space in front of his house and shut it down. Angelo immediately opened his door and got out.
          Victor looked at him angrily as he did so, and opened his own door and stood abruptly. “You!” he snapped at the young grey-furred kit. “Inside.”
          The little fox started towards the door then stopped when Victor turned back towards Jack as he climbed out.
          “Jack,” Victor began, tersely but not angrily. “Tomorrow. Same routine. I wont be here.” He reached out and grabbed the red fox's paw and pressed a folded hundred-dollar bill into it, then paused for a second, thinking. “Can you use your car for a while? Gas will be on me.”
          “Yeah, sure,” Jack replied, “Look, I think I owe you a refund for the gas tank...” he began, offering the hundred back to the ferret.
          “Nope,” Victor replied, pushing Jack's paw back towards his chest. “You did the work, you take the fucking money.”
          “Vic...” Jack said, trying to find an opening to intervene on Angelo's behalf. The ferret cut him off again, his expression starting to go back towards the intensely withering gaze he had loosed in the car.
          “Jack. Tomorrow.” He nodded at Jack. The fox looked to Angelo. Victor caught his eyes and turned back towards the younger fox. “Inside!” he barked.
          Jack looked helplessly at Angelo. The boy gave him a wan smile and a small reassuring nod before turning back towards the apartment.
          Victor looked back to Jack. “Tomorrow,” he said dismissively, and stared at the red fox. Jack nodded and started back towards his own apartment. He looked back and saw Victor's apartment door wide open. Angelo had already unlocked it and gone inside. Victor walked purposefully inside after him and slammed the door.
          The parking lot seemed eerily silent to Jack, as he walked back to his own door. He stopped on the stoop and looked back towards the ferret's door for a moment before going into his apartment.
          Once inside, the teen fox opened the curtains on his window and stared across the parking lot at the closed curtains of Victor's and Angelo's place. Jack didn't know what he expected to happen, or what he would do if something did happen. But he stood there staring for a good five minutes, the air from the window air conditioner blowing onto his chest.
          The adrenaline from the days activities finally left him completely, now that he was safe in his own house, and a profound sense of tiredness suddenly crept over his frame.
          He turned away from the window and sat down heavily in his recliner. Thinking for a moment, the fox got up and pulled the chair forward and turned it towards his window, then fell back heavily into it.
          Jack sat there for some time staring across the parking lot before the fatigue got the better of him and he fell asleep.

To be continued...
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