FA+
Shop
361
Views
Views
0
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / General Furry Art
Species Vulpine (Other)
Size 50 x 50
File Size 41.5 kB
Report this content
More from wrathofautumn
Chapters:
1)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3296822
2)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3311879/
3)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3331352/
4)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3376285/
5)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3417877/
6)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3496265/
7)
8)
9)
The story continues! :D
Emma manages to find Moroni and gets a better idea of what's happening
Edit: Edited the spelling and grammar of the story! ^^
======================================================
"Silent Echoes"
Chapter Two
Finding the Gas Station wouldn't be so hard. After Emma left Sanpete Hospital (Yes, she did check the name of it as she ventured off onto the freeway) she went off instinct and clouded memories of the gas station that the so called Moroni used to work at. She had remembered brief glimpses of what looked like a large red dinosaur on a sign of white rimmed with shamrock green. Though she still couldn't remember the exact street address it was at the local town, she might not have had to. Using a map she had found on the side of the road, she could see that all the local businesses were lined up on the main road with residential homes on the surrounding edges. Also the town worked on a grid system, so everything was found using directions north and south or east and west. It made her wonder how the locals could survive in a not so orderly city.
She passed the city limit and checked the sign. "Welcome to Mt. Pleasant: A friendly Community." She checked the map once again. The map confirmed the name of the town. Folding the map back in her jacket's pocket, careful not to get it to destroyed, she headed north on South State Street, staying on the right side of the cracked road.
Seeing the town's current condition, however, made her quicken the pace a little. There were bodies just like at Sanpete Hospital, but there were not as many. Mt. Pleasant's Plaza was largely barren and empty, but like a ghost town, you could still seen the aftermath and ruin from something terrible blowing through. Most of the buildings were boarded in from the inside. Curious, the foxtauress placed her head against the barricaded doors. There were televisions running and some indistinct chatting and creaking floorboards. People! She nearly took the chance of trying to greet them, but a gun cock made her back away quickly. Not that she was upset, though; after all, they were obviously trying to protect themselves from someone or something. Bandits, no doubt; and what kind of an amnesiac would want to be mistaken for a bandit?
It was probably a good thing that these "Survivors" were able to protect their goods. Any of the pioneering, 19th century structures that weren't occupied had busted windows with smashed merchandise everywhere, most of it either too damaged or of little use to her. She did pass a gunsmith shop, but the place had already been emptied out long before she arrived. There were bullet holes in the brick walls and traces of fires as piles of debris and rubble were all that remained of what she could only presume where quaint and cozy shops. Across the plaza, she could see faint traces of smoke. It was as if the town had experienced a miniature riot.
There was a blaring in the distance. It was quiet at first, but as she got closer to what she assumed was west Main Street, it grew more distinct. It was a car horn and most definitely not about two blocks north from where she was. Since when was she able to hear so well? Ah, no matter now; risking a sprinting, nails clicking against the asphalt, Emma pumped her arms like pistons hoping to find the source of the sound. Pinpointing it in an alley wait just off second south to her right she skidded to an alleyway.
It was a local police car, crashed into a dead end of concrete; the front end of it compacted to a scrunched wreck. The tires and sirens on top had been stripped off as well as the armored doors. It looked like someone had tried to pry open the trunk but couldn't manage to do it. As she drew closer, she could see a couple dead bodies in the car, both strangely human. One of the cops was sprawled out on the ground, his clothes removed long ago. There was a pool of dried blood and flies buzzing around his gut and face, most of the body tissue missing, including a hand and half a leg. The skin was shredded so violently it was as if something had tried to eat him but didn't like the taste of it.
Putting a handpaw to her muzzle, Emma forced down a pool of bile. The stench was so awful, but she'd bear it. She had a look at the other cop. His body was also partly eaten and his uniform taken along with any possible weapons he could've been holding onto. His body was still strapped down with a seatbelt and his face buried into the steering wheel. What drove them into hitting a wall, killing the both of them in the process? Looking at the traces of strangely colored fluid still oozing on the dead end of the alley, Emma got the feeling that there was something else here than simply dead bodies, bandits, and Survivors. Could it be monsters?
Somewhat terrified and disappointed of not being able to salvage a gun off the wreck, Emma made it to the main street and had a look around from the four way intersection. Looking towards the west, she managed to find what had been in her memories: a red dinosaur on a white sign rimmed with green. The label on it said "Sinclair". Hurrying to a run, not caring that the lights were still trying to perform traffic control, she jay walked across the road onto West Main Street, walking around a mutilated corpse, her face stretched out into an equines screech of terror. Stopping in front of the drive way, she couldn't help but feel her bushy tail wag from behind her.
It was a fairly medium sized Gas station, with six individual tanks for a lot of business. Looking closely at the monitor's on them, Emma took note that they were still functioning. If Moroni could help her, maybe she could be able to refill the tank of the car. Where she would go after that, she didn't quite know yet. Past the Overhang was the convenience store, paired up with a Wendy's inside. Having faint memories of their square burgers, Emma licked her chops. The town may have been abandoned, but there was still power, for some reason. Maybe she could fix up something inside.
First though it looked like she'd have to see if someone was inside. The windows had been previous broken and someone had them boarded up, same with the door. There was no other way in except for the garage, but the door must've been reinforced by now. Padding her way to the entrance, she innocently started knocking on the door. Already she could hear a gun cocking as she heard someone shouting at the door. She would've moved away except she knew that voice. Memories of a kindly boss with a good sense of humor came to mind, attending some gathering with brilliant colors and a cake with fire on it. Moroni?
The door flew open and there standing with a twelve gauge shotgun in his hands was an old man in his forties. His hazel eyes were bloodshot and sunken in and his face weathered; his dark hair which might have been finely combed at one point was now turning white, sporadic bald spots darting all across his scalp, as if he'd torn his own hair out. He wore nothing but an under shirt, stained with mustard and a navy blue pair of sweat pants. His feet shifted on green flip flops as the gun shook in his calloused hands.
"I've already told your kind I ain't got nothing of value here." He pulled the gun closer to Emma's Chest. "Now get off my property on the count of three. One...two..." He paused on pulling the trigger when the foxtauress pulled out the card. Moroni blinked and snatched the card from her handpaw and looked at it carefully, studying it. Then he looked back at her, squinting his eyes as if to put something together, then back at the card and then her once more. "Emma?"
Emma nodded with a canine grin. She unzipped her jacket to show the shirt she was wearing. Moroni really didn't recognize her much for obvious reasons, but this should have been proof enough this was who she is. Dropping the gun, Moroni embraced her, laughing loudly. Why was that tail of Emma's wagging again? "Oh, it's good to see you Emma! Come on inside, we can talk more in there."
Padding into the store, a little bell ringing, Emma had a look around. The store was full of dried goods like potato and corn chips, peanuts and a lot of other food and supplies. They were still stocked on chili, soup, bread and all kinds of liquids in cold storage, including 20 gallons of milk all still fresh thanks to the refrigeration. There was also a shelf with tools and medication near the wall, and over at the counter, fresh hot dogs were still being rolled to hot perfection. Moroni had been doing his best to take care of himself, looks like. Granted that some of the food had already been eaten or taken by what she'd assumed to be previous Survivors. However, there were about a dozen or so more boxes of food supplies still needing to be unloaded. All of this was enough to last a person a good five months if they rationed it right.
As Moroni locked up the store again, he strode up in front of Emma, his eyes sparkling with a familiar amusement. "So you're feeling better from the accident. Eh? Did the hospital treat you okay?" She mouthed a few words, placing a handpaw to her bandaged throat.
Moroni's face flashed with comprehension. "You can't talk? I have just the thing." Rushing over to one of the shelves, opening a bag of ballpoint pens, he handed to Emma a blue inked pen and a note book. "There you go, now tell me. Did the hospital treat you all right?"
Finally, a means of communication! Emma was actually more surprised at how easily Moroni had already accepted her as a foxtauress. It took her a while to figure out how to clutch a pen with her new handpaws, but she eventually was able to grasp it comfortably enough to write a couple of sentences. She handed the notebook to Moroni.
"'I don't remember anything. What's happened to me, Moroni?'" The old man handed back to her the notebook and went to the hot dog machine. Silently offering her one, she gave an approving nod. Putting ketchup and mustard over hers with some onions and relish and simply ketchup and sauerkraut on his, he handed her a really thick hot dog. Slowly, she nibbled on it, aware that her jaws were new and she was not used to eating without cheeks.
"Just the way you always liked it. Well," He took a seat on a table near an icebox. Emma sat on her hind legs, careful not to sit on her tail. "I'm not exactly sure myself about what's going on. It all started about a week ago with what people thought was just a flu pandemic. A few people moving in from California to escape the fires came down with it in Salt Lake City, and then it slowly spread down to hear. I even got a phone call from you saying that you caught it. I knew I wasn't your boss any more since you went back to Snow College for the fall/winter semester, so I paid no mind to it."
"I worked for you before?" Emma wrote.
"That's right, Emma. You worked for me full time during the spring and summer. As a friend of the family, I offered to help take care of you when you decided to take a break from schooling. Don't you remember?" Emma looked at the ground, shifting her eyes, trying to remember something. Her ears flattened as she shook her head. "Hmmm, it might have been that car that hit you. Jostled your memory and all that."
Emma felt the bandages under her jacket. "Is that why I was in the hospital?"
Moroni nodded. "From what your boss down at the Turkey Farms told me, yeah. That virus you came down with, though, that made it even worse. You fell into a coma, and that's all the doctors would tell me. Heck, they wouldn't even let me see you, calling you highly contagious and all that! Well, I made them promise to drop off some balloons, a card and some change on the side for you. After that, I went to work."
His face turned grim. "Around the second day, that's when the virus started doing its dirty work. Left and right, people began to crumple onto the ground, sprouting fur and their teeth falling out. Most of them died mid way, thank the Lord. Those few misshapen that were unfortunate to live, however, they went mad and started ravaging the town. They began forming gangs and started raiding homes after homes for food and supplies. Some gangsters looking like you even tried to intimidate me into giving up my store. That's why I had that misunderstanding with you earlier, and I do apologize for that again. There were also a few others who had survived the changes while retaining their sanity. Those that did never leave their homes anymore, unless they have to. It was bedlam the first few days but it's started to quiet down now. Business isn't quite what it used to be."
Emma tilted her head. "Why aren't you changed into something like me?" She wrote.
"I honestly can't say, Emma. I actually did come down with something like everyone else. I continued running the store cause I had to. After the first couple of days, though, I started feeling better. It was just another flu virus to me. Maybe the Lord saw my faith in him and blessed me with immunity to the virus. I can't say. People up in Utah County would know a lot more of what's happening than down here in the valley."
After finishing her hot dog, Emma then felt her chest ache. She had to know the one question that's been bothering her since she woke up. "Who am I, Moroni? What am I?"
Moroni held her handpaws tenderly, his eyes looking down at them funny, and then back into Emma's. "I don't know if anything good will come out of this, and I can't answer for you what you are. You're a family friend to me so all I can say is this: Emma, you're Emma Eukariah. You're a sophomore at Snow College working for her degree in nursing. You were born in the Utah Valley Hospital twenty years ago from your mother and father, Jacob and Rebecca. You have one younger brother, Alma, and a golden retriever, Lucy. I was your father's best friend since we went to high school together, and you used to call me 'Uncle' because of it. Your favorite pastimes were reading mysteries, playing adventure games and watching House MD."
A few muddled images of an aged man and woman and an obnoxious looking little brother came to mind, along with a very friendly dog always bumping her nose against her thighs, begging for scraps. If only she could see their faces again, maybe she could find out more about herself and the situation. "They live in Provo, right?"
Moroni's eyes widened. "You're not actually thinking of going there?"
Emma nodded.
"Oh, no, Emma! You mustn't go there. If you thought that Mount Pleasant looked bad, you haven't seen what Provo's probably like. Panic and mayhem will have no doubt torn the streets apart, dead bodies everywhere. And there's more than bandits roaming the countryside now. The animals, they've..." Moroni's hands were trembling, his gun shaking violently. Was he talking about something like whatever those cops had hit?
Emma put an assuring handpaw on his shoulder. She expressed strong resolve towards him, and it was something that didn't require her notepad for. It's not that she didn't believe what he was saying or that she cared less if it was dangerous. Yes, there was a good chance that her family was dead from the pandemic, making him tell who she really was almost pointless. There was even a chance she wouldn't find any answers at all to what was happening, or she could even be killed along the way. It made no sense why she was leaving when Moroni here could very well take care of her. None of that mattered, though. She was going to leave for Provo because this was something she had to do.
Moroni sighed, scratching his head. Even he knew there was no way he would be able to dissuade her. "Do you have a car?" Emma nodded. "How about a gun?" Emma shook her head. "Well, last I checked, your boss had dropped your car off at the hospital while you were in that coma. Meet me outside. I'll get my tow truck out so we can get it somewhere safe. The Lord help us if we're caught wandering outside when the sun sets."
1)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3296822
2)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3311879/
3)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3331352/
4)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3376285/
5)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3417877/
6)http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3496265/
7)
8)
9)
The story continues! :D
Emma manages to find Moroni and gets a better idea of what's happening
Edit: Edited the spelling and grammar of the story! ^^
======================================================
"Silent Echoes"
Chapter Two
Finding the Gas Station wouldn't be so hard. After Emma left Sanpete Hospital (Yes, she did check the name of it as she ventured off onto the freeway) she went off instinct and clouded memories of the gas station that the so called Moroni used to work at. She had remembered brief glimpses of what looked like a large red dinosaur on a sign of white rimmed with shamrock green. Though she still couldn't remember the exact street address it was at the local town, she might not have had to. Using a map she had found on the side of the road, she could see that all the local businesses were lined up on the main road with residential homes on the surrounding edges. Also the town worked on a grid system, so everything was found using directions north and south or east and west. It made her wonder how the locals could survive in a not so orderly city.
She passed the city limit and checked the sign. "Welcome to Mt. Pleasant: A friendly Community." She checked the map once again. The map confirmed the name of the town. Folding the map back in her jacket's pocket, careful not to get it to destroyed, she headed north on South State Street, staying on the right side of the cracked road.
Seeing the town's current condition, however, made her quicken the pace a little. There were bodies just like at Sanpete Hospital, but there were not as many. Mt. Pleasant's Plaza was largely barren and empty, but like a ghost town, you could still seen the aftermath and ruin from something terrible blowing through. Most of the buildings were boarded in from the inside. Curious, the foxtauress placed her head against the barricaded doors. There were televisions running and some indistinct chatting and creaking floorboards. People! She nearly took the chance of trying to greet them, but a gun cock made her back away quickly. Not that she was upset, though; after all, they were obviously trying to protect themselves from someone or something. Bandits, no doubt; and what kind of an amnesiac would want to be mistaken for a bandit?
It was probably a good thing that these "Survivors" were able to protect their goods. Any of the pioneering, 19th century structures that weren't occupied had busted windows with smashed merchandise everywhere, most of it either too damaged or of little use to her. She did pass a gunsmith shop, but the place had already been emptied out long before she arrived. There were bullet holes in the brick walls and traces of fires as piles of debris and rubble were all that remained of what she could only presume where quaint and cozy shops. Across the plaza, she could see faint traces of smoke. It was as if the town had experienced a miniature riot.
There was a blaring in the distance. It was quiet at first, but as she got closer to what she assumed was west Main Street, it grew more distinct. It was a car horn and most definitely not about two blocks north from where she was. Since when was she able to hear so well? Ah, no matter now; risking a sprinting, nails clicking against the asphalt, Emma pumped her arms like pistons hoping to find the source of the sound. Pinpointing it in an alley wait just off second south to her right she skidded to an alleyway.
It was a local police car, crashed into a dead end of concrete; the front end of it compacted to a scrunched wreck. The tires and sirens on top had been stripped off as well as the armored doors. It looked like someone had tried to pry open the trunk but couldn't manage to do it. As she drew closer, she could see a couple dead bodies in the car, both strangely human. One of the cops was sprawled out on the ground, his clothes removed long ago. There was a pool of dried blood and flies buzzing around his gut and face, most of the body tissue missing, including a hand and half a leg. The skin was shredded so violently it was as if something had tried to eat him but didn't like the taste of it.
Putting a handpaw to her muzzle, Emma forced down a pool of bile. The stench was so awful, but she'd bear it. She had a look at the other cop. His body was also partly eaten and his uniform taken along with any possible weapons he could've been holding onto. His body was still strapped down with a seatbelt and his face buried into the steering wheel. What drove them into hitting a wall, killing the both of them in the process? Looking at the traces of strangely colored fluid still oozing on the dead end of the alley, Emma got the feeling that there was something else here than simply dead bodies, bandits, and Survivors. Could it be monsters?
Somewhat terrified and disappointed of not being able to salvage a gun off the wreck, Emma made it to the main street and had a look around from the four way intersection. Looking towards the west, she managed to find what had been in her memories: a red dinosaur on a white sign rimmed with green. The label on it said "Sinclair". Hurrying to a run, not caring that the lights were still trying to perform traffic control, she jay walked across the road onto West Main Street, walking around a mutilated corpse, her face stretched out into an equines screech of terror. Stopping in front of the drive way, she couldn't help but feel her bushy tail wag from behind her.
It was a fairly medium sized Gas station, with six individual tanks for a lot of business. Looking closely at the monitor's on them, Emma took note that they were still functioning. If Moroni could help her, maybe she could be able to refill the tank of the car. Where she would go after that, she didn't quite know yet. Past the Overhang was the convenience store, paired up with a Wendy's inside. Having faint memories of their square burgers, Emma licked her chops. The town may have been abandoned, but there was still power, for some reason. Maybe she could fix up something inside.
First though it looked like she'd have to see if someone was inside. The windows had been previous broken and someone had them boarded up, same with the door. There was no other way in except for the garage, but the door must've been reinforced by now. Padding her way to the entrance, she innocently started knocking on the door. Already she could hear a gun cocking as she heard someone shouting at the door. She would've moved away except she knew that voice. Memories of a kindly boss with a good sense of humor came to mind, attending some gathering with brilliant colors and a cake with fire on it. Moroni?
The door flew open and there standing with a twelve gauge shotgun in his hands was an old man in his forties. His hazel eyes were bloodshot and sunken in and his face weathered; his dark hair which might have been finely combed at one point was now turning white, sporadic bald spots darting all across his scalp, as if he'd torn his own hair out. He wore nothing but an under shirt, stained with mustard and a navy blue pair of sweat pants. His feet shifted on green flip flops as the gun shook in his calloused hands.
"I've already told your kind I ain't got nothing of value here." He pulled the gun closer to Emma's Chest. "Now get off my property on the count of three. One...two..." He paused on pulling the trigger when the foxtauress pulled out the card. Moroni blinked and snatched the card from her handpaw and looked at it carefully, studying it. Then he looked back at her, squinting his eyes as if to put something together, then back at the card and then her once more. "Emma?"
Emma nodded with a canine grin. She unzipped her jacket to show the shirt she was wearing. Moroni really didn't recognize her much for obvious reasons, but this should have been proof enough this was who she is. Dropping the gun, Moroni embraced her, laughing loudly. Why was that tail of Emma's wagging again? "Oh, it's good to see you Emma! Come on inside, we can talk more in there."
Padding into the store, a little bell ringing, Emma had a look around. The store was full of dried goods like potato and corn chips, peanuts and a lot of other food and supplies. They were still stocked on chili, soup, bread and all kinds of liquids in cold storage, including 20 gallons of milk all still fresh thanks to the refrigeration. There was also a shelf with tools and medication near the wall, and over at the counter, fresh hot dogs were still being rolled to hot perfection. Moroni had been doing his best to take care of himself, looks like. Granted that some of the food had already been eaten or taken by what she'd assumed to be previous Survivors. However, there were about a dozen or so more boxes of food supplies still needing to be unloaded. All of this was enough to last a person a good five months if they rationed it right.
As Moroni locked up the store again, he strode up in front of Emma, his eyes sparkling with a familiar amusement. "So you're feeling better from the accident. Eh? Did the hospital treat you okay?" She mouthed a few words, placing a handpaw to her bandaged throat.
Moroni's face flashed with comprehension. "You can't talk? I have just the thing." Rushing over to one of the shelves, opening a bag of ballpoint pens, he handed to Emma a blue inked pen and a note book. "There you go, now tell me. Did the hospital treat you all right?"
Finally, a means of communication! Emma was actually more surprised at how easily Moroni had already accepted her as a foxtauress. It took her a while to figure out how to clutch a pen with her new handpaws, but she eventually was able to grasp it comfortably enough to write a couple of sentences. She handed the notebook to Moroni.
"'I don't remember anything. What's happened to me, Moroni?'" The old man handed back to her the notebook and went to the hot dog machine. Silently offering her one, she gave an approving nod. Putting ketchup and mustard over hers with some onions and relish and simply ketchup and sauerkraut on his, he handed her a really thick hot dog. Slowly, she nibbled on it, aware that her jaws were new and she was not used to eating without cheeks.
"Just the way you always liked it. Well," He took a seat on a table near an icebox. Emma sat on her hind legs, careful not to sit on her tail. "I'm not exactly sure myself about what's going on. It all started about a week ago with what people thought was just a flu pandemic. A few people moving in from California to escape the fires came down with it in Salt Lake City, and then it slowly spread down to hear. I even got a phone call from you saying that you caught it. I knew I wasn't your boss any more since you went back to Snow College for the fall/winter semester, so I paid no mind to it."
"I worked for you before?" Emma wrote.
"That's right, Emma. You worked for me full time during the spring and summer. As a friend of the family, I offered to help take care of you when you decided to take a break from schooling. Don't you remember?" Emma looked at the ground, shifting her eyes, trying to remember something. Her ears flattened as she shook her head. "Hmmm, it might have been that car that hit you. Jostled your memory and all that."
Emma felt the bandages under her jacket. "Is that why I was in the hospital?"
Moroni nodded. "From what your boss down at the Turkey Farms told me, yeah. That virus you came down with, though, that made it even worse. You fell into a coma, and that's all the doctors would tell me. Heck, they wouldn't even let me see you, calling you highly contagious and all that! Well, I made them promise to drop off some balloons, a card and some change on the side for you. After that, I went to work."
His face turned grim. "Around the second day, that's when the virus started doing its dirty work. Left and right, people began to crumple onto the ground, sprouting fur and their teeth falling out. Most of them died mid way, thank the Lord. Those few misshapen that were unfortunate to live, however, they went mad and started ravaging the town. They began forming gangs and started raiding homes after homes for food and supplies. Some gangsters looking like you even tried to intimidate me into giving up my store. That's why I had that misunderstanding with you earlier, and I do apologize for that again. There were also a few others who had survived the changes while retaining their sanity. Those that did never leave their homes anymore, unless they have to. It was bedlam the first few days but it's started to quiet down now. Business isn't quite what it used to be."
Emma tilted her head. "Why aren't you changed into something like me?" She wrote.
"I honestly can't say, Emma. I actually did come down with something like everyone else. I continued running the store cause I had to. After the first couple of days, though, I started feeling better. It was just another flu virus to me. Maybe the Lord saw my faith in him and blessed me with immunity to the virus. I can't say. People up in Utah County would know a lot more of what's happening than down here in the valley."
After finishing her hot dog, Emma then felt her chest ache. She had to know the one question that's been bothering her since she woke up. "Who am I, Moroni? What am I?"
Moroni held her handpaws tenderly, his eyes looking down at them funny, and then back into Emma's. "I don't know if anything good will come out of this, and I can't answer for you what you are. You're a family friend to me so all I can say is this: Emma, you're Emma Eukariah. You're a sophomore at Snow College working for her degree in nursing. You were born in the Utah Valley Hospital twenty years ago from your mother and father, Jacob and Rebecca. You have one younger brother, Alma, and a golden retriever, Lucy. I was your father's best friend since we went to high school together, and you used to call me 'Uncle' because of it. Your favorite pastimes were reading mysteries, playing adventure games and watching House MD."
A few muddled images of an aged man and woman and an obnoxious looking little brother came to mind, along with a very friendly dog always bumping her nose against her thighs, begging for scraps. If only she could see their faces again, maybe she could find out more about herself and the situation. "They live in Provo, right?"
Moroni's eyes widened. "You're not actually thinking of going there?"
Emma nodded.
"Oh, no, Emma! You mustn't go there. If you thought that Mount Pleasant looked bad, you haven't seen what Provo's probably like. Panic and mayhem will have no doubt torn the streets apart, dead bodies everywhere. And there's more than bandits roaming the countryside now. The animals, they've..." Moroni's hands were trembling, his gun shaking violently. Was he talking about something like whatever those cops had hit?
Emma put an assuring handpaw on his shoulder. She expressed strong resolve towards him, and it was something that didn't require her notepad for. It's not that she didn't believe what he was saying or that she cared less if it was dangerous. Yes, there was a good chance that her family was dead from the pandemic, making him tell who she really was almost pointless. There was even a chance she wouldn't find any answers at all to what was happening, or she could even be killed along the way. It made no sense why she was leaving when Moroni here could very well take care of her. None of that mattered, though. She was going to leave for Provo because this was something she had to do.
Moroni sighed, scratching his head. Even he knew there was no way he would be able to dissuade her. "Do you have a car?" Emma nodded. "How about a gun?" Emma shook her head. "Well, last I checked, your boss had dropped your car off at the hospital while you were in that coma. Meet me outside. I'll get my tow truck out so we can get it somewhere safe. The Lord help us if we're caught wandering outside when the sun sets."
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Vulpine (Other)
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 41.5 kB
Hehe, may be a bad example, but I had the thought of Charles Heston or Will Smith walking lifeless or abandoned cities while surviving from mutated monsters due to a viral outbreak. Only in this case the viral outbreak also produced furry/scaly/feathery people and animals (of course its only hinted that there are monsters roaming in the world).
Comments