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Pitch Black is the second arc of The Underground series

Chapter 4 of 22

Black Listed

Alias's boot met the flimsy wooden door with great force, nearly snapping it from it's hinges. Pistol already drawn, the black fox aimed his gun at the unknown, ready to unload his nine-millimeter. They had almost made it to the door when both he and Jenna heard Abby scream. Feeling the effects of the buzzkill, Alias sobered up immediately and dashed to where the sound had come from. He had expected to find Abby in a chokehold, with a wolf, perhaps a bobcat holding a pistol to her temple; mistaking Abby for Jenna. If that was the case, Alias would have to be fast and accurate. He would have to aim, and put a lead slug through this other asshole's skull before he could use her as a meat shield. Alias wasn't stupid. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone tracked them down. There was surely enough money on Alias's head to make it worthwhile.

But Alias wasn't found by whom he would have expected... especially in the condition he was. He didn't find Abby in the predicament he expected either. He actually found quite the opposite of what he expected. Holstering his pistol, Alias ran over to Abby, who was on her knees, paws to her mouth in shock, beside a pitiful mess of wet, matted, brown fur. It was a mink, one Alias knew.

"What happened?" Alias asked quickly, grabbing the mink by his shoulder and rolling him over.

Abby raised her paws in defense. "I swear to God, I didn't do anything! He just grabs me from the bathroom, I screamed, and he hit the floor!" She replied frantically.

"Aw, Christ..." Alias sighed. Alias had seen this individual when he wasn't doing so well... but never like this. His face was puffy and swollen from contusions; one eye was practically swollen shut. The clothes he wore were merely rags; prisoners were dressed better and dried blood stained them. Alias had always remembered the mink with baby fat still about him, his whole body, especially his face, was now thin and sickly looking.

The fox moved his paw to the mink's muzzle, gently shaking him. "Mick..." Alias called out to the unconscious mink. Using his index and middle fingers, Alias checked his pulse. The first thing he noticed was how cold Mick's body was. He was freezing and wet. Arcadia's cold weather had already set in, and there were chances Mick was suffering from hypothermia. Alias held two fingers to Mick's throat, waiting for a sign of life. He waited a second, feeling for a pulse. Alias felt a fear growing inside of him as he waited for the veins in Mick's neck to move. Finally, he felt the familiar feeling of a heartbeat.

"Is he alive?" Abby asked, looking freaked out.

"Yeah." Alias replied, letting out a small sigh of relief. "Just barely though." Alias looked up "Abby," he commanded, his tone firm but calm, "go turn on one of your showers, all the way on hot. Then get towels, blankets, whatever you've got and bring them back here."

Abby nodded, her eyes wide with concern, and went to work. Jenna presently rounded the corner and knelt down beside Alias who was examining the pathetic mink. Her paw unconsciously went to her mouth in horror, however, she said nothing of her concerns.

"What do you need from me?" She asked quietly, as the pitter-patter of the shower echoed through the dressing room.

Alias was quiet for a second as he processed her question. "I'm not sure..." Alias replied, moving Mick's right arm, exposing the underside. "He's in rough shape, Jenna..." Alias's eyes scanned Mick's arm, noting the numerous circular patches where no fur grew.

Track marks.

"Jesus... He had more needles in him than a pin cushion..."

Alias reached behind him, and pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed it over to Jenna. "There's a head shop a block down the street."

Jenna nodded. "Right, Natural Herb."

"They sell a detox; you won't be able to find it on the shelves." He explained. "It's supposed to flush your system of anything that doesn't belong there. It's called Item Forty-Nine. You have to ask for it."

"Got it." Jenna nodded, straightening back up and walking toward the door.

"Jenna." Alias called after her, turning around.

She stopped and faced the fox, who held one of his pistols out, the handle toward her. "Be careful out there. You see anything you don't like, come straight back."

Jenna nodded, and accepted Alias's weapon brushing her neck-length indigo hair behind her ears and left.

Alias went back to his inspection of Mick, who's head had rolled to the other side, and away from him. The black fox then saw more missing fur along the back of his neck. Only this time, he could tell it had been burned away. Slowly, and gently lifting Mick's head up so he could get a better view, Alias's eyes took in all the atrocities that were revealed. Mick's back was pockmarked, and in some cases even long strips of flesh were exposed, all of the wounds revealing burn marks, some that could be second degree. Alias would know; he had treated himself enough.

Abby scurried back into the room with towels in her arms.

"This is all I had." She explained franticly, dropping her load next to Mick.

"That'll work great." Alias replied. "But we need to move him to the shower. Warm air will bring his core temperature up."

Between the two of them, Mick wasn't too hard to move. Alias knew he ran the risk of sending him into shock, but he couldn't think of another alternative. Placing one of the towels behind his head, they set Mick next to the shower, where waves of white steam flowed over him. Alias stood up, looking down at the mink through narrow eyes. He was knocking on death's door as they spoke. Had he been outside for another hour, two hours, he'd be dead.

"You got a syringe?" Alias asked the feline.

She nodded. "First aid kit..." She replied, turning to leave.

There was no doubt in Alias's mind who had done this, and there was no doubt in Alias's mind why. The son of a bitch was after Alias, why would he target Mick who was just his arms dealer? Alias crouched back down thinking. He had a thousand connections in a thousand cities across the globe, why pick this one? They had brutalized Mick something awful. From what he could only guess was medical interrogation, to beatings, they had no sympathy on him. Alias felt his gut twist as he knew that somehow this was his fault. Why else would someone do this to Mick?

Alias, lost in thought, didn't notice the mink beginning to stir. Shooting up like a rocket, his paws latched onto the collar of Alias's black shirt. Alias's paw snapped to Mick's head, however, he repressed the instinct to twist in a brutal fashion; breaking Mick's neck.

Mick's eyes were wild and dilated. They darted around the room looking for anything familiar however in a perpetual state of terror. His grip tightened, as Alias tried to calm the mink down and lead him out of his trance.

"For God's sake! They're coming for us! It's him! You can't stop him! He'll kill us all!" Mick's voice was like Alias had never heard it. He was screaming like he was in a state of panic. "Don't you get it? Don't you understand?" Mick screamed at Alias at the top of his lungs. Alias was wrong. Mick wasn't in a state of panic, but rather in something far beyond panic. His paws clawed at Alias, although he wasn't sure if Mick was intending to hurt him or cling onto him.

"Mick!" Alias called out, trying to get him back to reality. "Mick, relax! It's me, it's Alias!"

Mick's eyes were toward Alias, but they seemed to look through him. "I won't go back there! You can't keep me there! You can't! I'll kill every fucking one of you!" He screamed in his hysteria.

Alias became more physically forceful, keeping Mick from injuring himself or Alias. "Mick!" Alias shouted, trying to break the mental barrier that separated the two. Mick's claws were coming dangerously close to slashing Alias across his muzzle. "No one is going to hurt you here! I am not going to hurt you." He emphasized.

Suddenly Mick's struggles slowed, as his eyes began to soften. Alias looked into the brown Mink's eyes, which turned from a state of sheer horror, to confusion. It was like Mick was trying to figure something out or say something that was on the tip of his tongue, but could not find the words.

"...Alias?" He asked, his voice almost blending in with his panting.

Alias nodded. "It's me, Mick. You're safe, understand that?" Alias questioned, trying to emphasize the point that he was in no danger and need not attack Alias.

However the Mink shook his head slowly, his eyes starting to roll back into his head. His grip on Alias went lax as he floated away again in exhaustion.

"No..." He replied, nearly inaudibly. "No one's safe anymore..."

Alias scowled as a thousand questions exploded into his mind. The only person who could answer any of them was Mick.

"They're coming..." His voice squeaked out in a weak state. "They're coming for you, Alias..." Eyes rolling drunkenly back into his skull, Mick slipped into the open arms of oblivion, and fell backward onto his towel leaving Alias with nothing but the pitter pattering of the hot showers next to them. Swallowing hard, Alias shook his head slightly as he looked down at his paws.

Alias himself was a walking Black Spot.