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I awoke from my dream, only to be thrown into the cold, dark reality of the way the world was now. It's been years since I've seen the sun. I can't tell you what day it is, or even what year it is for that matter. Since the bombs fell, the only measurement of time was day, and night. Days blend together. Weeks become months, and months become years. It was just me and my wife, and our new home, in an old subway station. It's mind boggling to think that thousands of people used to commute through here. Now, you would be lucky to see a rat run bye. I shifted my gaze over to the vixen that lay next to me. She was the only refuge I had left in this new, twisted demented world we now called our own. As long as she was still breathing, that world didn't seem so dark, and hopeless. I watched her chest rise and fall, with each breath. I wondered what she was dreaming about. Probably about the days before the nuclear fire, as I had just dreamed of. I don't believe things will ever be the same, but fantasies are all you have left sometimes. I gently ran my paw across her forehead, moving her hair away from her face. Her coat and hair was grimy and dirty like mine, yet she was still just as beautiful. "I'll find something better for us, I promise." I whispered to her. An old piece of cloth was draped over her. I had found it in an old house, a few months ago. She was so happy when I brought it back. We would be a little less cold from now on. You have to learn to enjoy the little things, because the little things are all you get. Men would kill for the things that the people of the old world took for granted. I kept a colt anaconda next to the make shift bed, just in case a marauder stumbled upon out refuge. So far, nobody has discovered the old subway station. I never actually had to use the gun, and I couldn't afford to, unless it absolutely was necessary. The only ammunition I had, was the six rounds in the cylinder. We had left the old apartment in a hurry, so I never bothered to grab extra ammo. If I had known the world was about to end, I probably would have. I picked up the revolver, and holstered it inside my jacket pocket. "Mel?" I said quietly and put my paw on her shoulder. One of her eyes opened slightly. "Scout?" I smiled. "I'll be outside for a few minutes, gonna check the weather." She sat up, and rubbed her eyes. "Don't be too long." I stood up and headed toward the stairs. "No more five minutes, I promise." I walked up the stairs onto the street. It was raining out, so the visibility was low. The city used be jam packed with tall buildings and high rises. Now their twisted metal skeletons were all that was left of them. It was raining, so I couldn't go out to look for food just yet. The sounds of the occasional burst of gunshots in the distance, mixed with the sound of the trickling rain, was perversely beautiful. I considered collecting the rain to drink, but it was probably irradiated to hell. I would have to find a way to filter it before that was an option. I scanned the area, nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied, I walked back down the stairs.

Melony was sitting in front of the oil stove, with her hands up. She looked up at me. "Any luck?" She asked. "Nope, still pouring rain." I sat down next to her, and put my hands up to the stove. "Three days in a row? I feel bad for the folks that are stuck outside." Mel said. "If they're not dead by now." I responded. We sat in silence in front of the stove for a good ten seconds. "This is the last can of oil." Mel said looking at me. "We'd better hope the rain lets up soon, so we can go look for more." I

looked back at the stove. "To think I actually used to like the cold." The rest of the day was spent in utter bordom. Mel and I talked about times before the war, and our plans for the future. I occasionally checked the oil level of the stove, and wrote in my journal. At the rate the oil was burning, I figured we had about 30 hours left, enough for tonight, and part of tomorrow. If the weather was fine tomorrow, or if the rain let up a bit, I could go look for more oil and food. That night, I fell asleep holding Mel.

The tunnel was dark, and quiet. There's no other sound like complete silence. Silence was broken by the occasional patter of dripping water. The oil lamp in my hand was my only source of light, which barely lit up thirty feet in front of me. I had to find Mel. I couldn't lose her. "Mel!" I called out into the darkness. The only reply I got was my own echo. I called out again. This time I got a reply, but it wasn't Mel. In fact it wasn't even a person at all. It was a low bassy tone that made the rails vibrate. It came from in front of me, and it was about a hundred yards away. There was nothing too menacing about the sound, but it scared me to death, for reasons unknown. I pulled the anaconda out of my pocket, and pulled back the hammer. The clicking sounds echoed as well. I had to keep pushing forward, toward the sound. I knew Mel was in that direction, she had to be. Again, that same sound, but louder this time. It was getting nearer. The fur on the back of my neck went rigid, and my ears folded backward. Everything in me rebelled against moving toward the source of the sound, but my love for Mel kept me from stopping. "Scout, are you okay?" It was Mel's voice. It was faint. Did it come from in front of me? "Mel, where are you?" I said, keeping a steady pace toward the sound. It was louder, and much closer now, 30 yards at the most. Movement, just at the edge of the darkness. "Mel is that you?" I said to the shape, raising the revolver. No, it was too large to be her. Way too large. The large figure stopped, just at the edge of the lamp light. The lamp went out, and the ambiance of the cave stopped. I screamed, and pulled the trigger, but only herd the clicking of an empty gun. "Scout wake up."

I snapped awake to Melony sitting over me. "It was only a dream Hun, calm down." I sat up and hugged her. "Shit, I'm glad you woke me up when you did. I was about to die." I said. "You were batting at the air." I smiled. "It was kinda cute actually." Mel said. I laughed and hugged her. The dream shook me up pretty bad. My paws were still shaking. It was not an irrational fear. Many Manglers roamed the subway tunnels. Manglers were mutants; People (I use that term very loosely) unlucky enough to be in the path of nuclear fallout. They were very large, about 9 feet tall, muscular, and fur less. The ugliest thing you will ever see (If you see it at all). They all were blind. Since they stayed underground, where it was dark they had no need for working eyes. Because they were blind, certainly didn't mean they were any less deadly. They have adapted to blindness, and therefor their sense of smell and hearing is far better then a normal man. Not to mention they just get mad if you shoot at them, unless you hit them in the head. I have crossed paths with a couple. I managed to run away. People tend to mistake their size for sluggishness, a fatal mistake. The only reason I didn't get maimed (and probably devoured.) is because I have one advantage over them; size. I could easily get into places they couldn't. They weren't stupid, not by a long shot. The last one that came after me was wielding a parking meter. God only knows what a parking meter was doing in a subway tunnel. The flame from the stove was much lower then it was last night. Unfortunately, rain or not, I was gonna have to go out to look for more. There was an old outdoor supply store that had cans of oil a few blocks away. I took the oil stove from the same place. I was surprised that the store hadn't been ransacked like the rest of them. Maybe because people had less of a need for outdoor supplies, being in a large city. Most of the refugees spent their time underground anyway. The people that spent their time above ground were probably nomads, and the occasional wandering merchant. I only went above ground to travel and look for food. The route through the tunnels was way to dangerous, as that is where the Manglers dwell. I checked the weather again, and saw the rain had let up. It was only a mellow drizzle now. Saying goodbye was always hard. Even though I was only planning to be gone an hour or two, there was still a chance that I might never see Mel again, and we both knew that. "Just be careful Scout. If you see any Marauders, stay away from them. I don't wanna lose you over some tough guy bullshit." I picked up my pack, and swung it over my shoulder. "You know me well Mel." I said to her with a grin. "I do, and that's what scares me." I stuffed the revolver into the jacket, and slipped on my grey beanie. "Don't worry, I'll be careful. After all, where would you be without me?" I put my combat knife into the holster on my leg. "You'd probably still be trying to figure out how to turn the stove on." We both laughed. I held onto her for a few seconds "I'll be back later I promise." I walked toward the stairs and turned around. "Besides, marines aren't aloud to die without permission." I winked. "Love you, Mel." I started up the steps. "Love you, Scout." I felt Mel's eyes follow me up the stairs into the rubble ridden street.

The trek from here to the store would not have been that tedious before the war. Hell, I even remember passing the outdoor shop on my way to work a few times. The route there was blocked by rubble, so I had to walk ten blocks east out of the way, ten blocks uptown, then another ten blocks back west just to get around it. I walked uptown until I reached the rubble in road, and made the first turn around the corner. There was a landmark that always let me know I was going in the right direction. It was just as disturbing as it was the first time I passed it. It was a scorched sedan, the driver and their passenger never made it out. Now they were two skeletons, one holding the other in a protective manner. One was the father, and the other was his son I guessed. The father, holding onto the son he would never see again, and Vise Versa. I promised myself I would never bring I child into this world, for a number of reasons. It was hard enough looking after Mel and I, without a cub to worry about. Don't get me wrong, I wanted children, but I would have to wait till things got better (If they ever did).

It took me about an hour to reach the old store. It was the same way I had left it last time I went out for oil. I used a brick to prop open the door, in case I needed to make a quick exit. The oil was in a storage room at the back. I checked my corners as I moved through the building, out of habit. I moved to the back of the building and found the storage room. I opened it up. The metal door creaked open loudly. There was little light in the room. I could make out the silhouettes of the shelves in the corner. I flicked my zippo lighter open. The tiny flame was enough to illuminate the room. I looked on the shelf in the spot the cans of oil usually were. There was one can left. There were plenty here when restocked a few months ago. Someone must have discovered this place and looted it. At least the assholes had the decency to leave me one can, I thought to myself. I stuffed it in the bag angrily. Enough to last another two days at best. Once the oil ran out, I would have to start burning wood. Wood wasn't the easiest thing to come by either, it also created too much smoke. If that smoke drifted down the tunnels there was a chance that the Manglers would smell-- "Sir?" Startled, I swung around and pointed my revolver in the direction of the sound, and came face to face with a mangy looking coyote. He eyed the gun and raised his hands slowly. "Easy, I don't want no trouble." the coyote said. "What's your business here? Why do you have to sneak up on me like that. There are easier ways to get yourself killed you know." The yote nodded in agreement. "Sorry for the scare sir, yer' the first person I've seen around these parts in a while." He had a thick southern accent. "You armed?" I asked the coyote. "Only teeth n' claws." He said, grinning and presenting his claws. His teeth were dark yellow, almost brown. I raised an eyebrow. His smile faded. I holstered the revolver, still keeping a paw on the handle, just in case. "Gordon." the coyote said, and extended a grimy paw. "Gordon McCormick." Reluctantly I eased my grip off the gun and shook his paw. "My name is Scout, and this is where we part ways." I said, and walked past him. "Aw, c'mon. You're the only guy that hasn't try to mug me, and I can't hold a conversation with ya fer more then ten seconds?" I kept on walking. I turned back after walking a hundred yards or so, and he was gone.

I rounded the last corner, and saw the subway station. At least I made it back alright. I reached the top of the steps and heard commotion inside. Some deep voices. God damn it, I thought. I shouldn't have left Mel alone. I pulled out the revolver and cocked back the hammer slowly. I moved down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. "You'll make this easier on yourself if ya quit fussin'" A masculine voice said angrily. If they lay one paw on Mel I'd-- "Get off of me you creep" She yelped. "Ow, my finger, you little bitch!" A different voice called. The second one was deeper than the first, with a thick Russian accent. "Don't even bother with this one Sevastyan. She's more trouble than she's worth." The first voice said. Mel yelped again. The thought of Mel being hurt made me ignore my training, and rush right into the line of sight. Two men, a coyote, and a jackal. The jackal was half a foot shorter than the coyote, and lankier. I guessed he was the brains of the two, while the coyote was the muscle. The coyote, was more of a beast than a man. Very muscular and tall. I assumed he was the one with the deep voice and the accent, based on his size. I wasn't sure if they were marauders or slavers. "Bullshit, after all the trouble this little slut's been, I'm not leaving without her." I pointed the revolver at the coyote. They still hadn't noticed me yet. "Too bad her husband isn't here, he would probably be worth a lot more." So they were slavers. If they were marauders, Mel would already be a crumpled mess on the floor. I shook that thought out of my head. I whistled. The coyote and the jackal, turned away from Mel, and toward me. Simultaneously, I lined up the sights with coyote, and pulled the trigger. The blast from the magnum was amplified by the acoustics of the station. The coyote jerked backwards and fell onto the platform. I moved my sites toward the jackal, but he was holding my Melony, with a gun pressed against her head. "Ah ah ah." What kind of man uses a woman as a shield, I thought. "Take your grimy paws of of her!" The jackal smiled jaggedly. "You're in quite the position to be making demands friend." I tried to make my voice less threatening. "You let her go, and I'll let you walk. You have my word." I told the jackal. "Hah!" He nodded his head. "Well, that sounds like a pretty good deal." The jackal looked at Mel. "But I got a better one. I shoot you, then walk off with your wife, hows that sound?" A raging inferno built up inside of me, being fueled by each of the jackals comments. I saw Mel tear up. "Just listen to him Scout, please?" I'll tear the jackal's heart out when I get my hands on him, I thought. "Yeah Scout, just listen to her." he said, putting emphasis on my name. I started to get angrier. Mel started sobbing. I hated seeing her like this, and the worse part about it was not being able to comfort her. "See what'cha did Scout? You made her cry." That was when I snapped. I saw an opportunity and aimed at the jackal. An incredible, but familiar pain hit me in the chest like a ton of bricks. "Scout!" Mel yelped. I tried to get up, but found myself paralysed, my vision slowly fading along with my hearing, and that unmistakable searing pain of a gunshot wound. Mel screamed. It sounded like I was in a swimming pool, and she was at the surface. My vision was like a tunnel, slowly closing up with each breath. I heard a muffled "I hate shooting women, but I'll make an exception for you." from the jackal. All background sounds had faded now, and the only sounds that remained were my beating hard, and labored breathing. The tunnel closed, and the ominous sounds of bodily functions was replaced by peaceful silence.

***

Dreams--dreams of Melony, of us. In a field with tall grass, blowing in the wind. Everything was gray, even the grass. At the end of a field stood a tall tree, and Melony; my only gem in this decrepit wasteland, penetrating through the sickly grey, like a lighthouse guiding fatigued sailors back into port. I called to her, and waved. She did not respond, or even acknowledge my presence. The smile quickly faded from my face. I began walking in her direction. I felt like my weight doubled, as I walked. I called for her again, and the same response as last time--none. She appeared to be looking down at something in her paws. She was crying. What if she's hurt? I ran, ignoring the burning sensation in my legs. The gap between me and her closed, and I put my hands on her shoulders. "Mel, it's okay. I'm here now, whats wrong?" I asked her, caressing her shoulders. Still no response. She did not even react to my touch. "Mel, are you okay?" I shook her shoulders. "For god's sake Mel, please say something." She kept on weeping, unfazed by my words. I smelled flowers I looked down at her paws--a blood red rose. It was the only thing with colour in sight, besides Mel. I gently plucked the rose from her paws, and held it in front of my muzzle. I sniffed it. It smelled beautiful, unlike most smells of the new world. It was satisfying to smell something other then death, decay, and ashes. I caressed its delicate peddles with my fingers. It's colour faded slowly, and it began to wither. It shrivelled up in my hands. Was I the cause of it's death? I looked back up at Mel, only to find that she was no more. I looked around, with desperation, searching for my beloved mate. "Mel!" I screamed, running away from the tree. This field seemed endless, and stretched on as far as I could see. No, I can't lose you. Not after all we've been through.

I opened my eyes, and looked dizzily at my surroundings. The room was small, and dimly lit by a chain. I was laying down, covered by a blanket made yellow by the light. I looked to my right, and saw an IV stand. I looked down at my arm, and saw it was hooked up to me. "The hell." I grabbed onto the syringe and slowly pulled it out, wincing a bit as it slid out of my veins. Blood oozed out of the small puncture in my forearm, staining the fur surrounding it with red. I stood up, and stretched, before realising that I was naked. I quickly covered myself with the blanket. There was another patient, a red fox, sleeping in the bed next to mine. The door opened and I swung around. "Ah, you're awake!" I recognised the man in the doorway. He was the coyote that I had seen in the streets. "We got off to a bad start. My name's Gordon. I'm the guy that saved you life." The coyote grinned broadly, showing some broken teeth. "I'm Scout. What is this place, and where the hell are my clothes?"