Azlen has a minion!

Squabble the Fury

War is an ugly truth. And never for the faint of heart. Nor is this pet story. Proceed with caution.

War is an ugly truth. And never for the faint of heart. Nor is this pet story. Proceed with caution.

Vandal hugged his daughter tightly, tears filling up his eyes. "keep her safe, please Brazen." He whispered stroking her sleeping face. She was so small clutched against the older male’s chest as he bundled her up and got onto the Motorcycle.
Tears flowed down Vandal's dull black cheeks as he watched his father’s best friend take her away across the desert and to cities unknown.

"She'll be safe, you know Brazen will see to it." Ricochet's hand fell on his adopted son’s shoulder.

"I know dad." Vandal sniffed wiping his nose on his sleeve. "She's only a year..."

"And we need to fight to make sure she sees next year too." Ricochet stated hugging his son. He too felt the tear in his heart as his infant son was driven away on a different motorcycle by a different family friend.

"I got a bad feeling about letting Brazen go." Azlen grumbled as the group headed back to the war bunker.

"Azlen..." Ricochet turned to the black furred and scared Montre. "Brazen's eye sight is going, He nearly shot me trying during the initial attack. I hate losing him as well, but we both know the danger of him staying to fight. He could take one of us out without meaning too."

Azlen sighed heavily. "It's always the good ones.."

Ricochet nodded as Vandal followed with his head down and tail dragging listening to his father and older half brother talk. Turning a corner, he peered up in time to see his mother open the bunker's door and lean out, she was half a block away still.

"Ricochet!" Gage hollered waving a radio headset from the bunkers entrance. "You need to hear this!" her red hair pulled back into a pony tail, her dress replaced by overalls and steel toe boots instead of stilettos. The bulky pocket jacket under the bullet-proof vest made her boobs look squished up to her neck.

It was the last moment Vandal saw her alive.....

It happened in slow motion. Everything from that moment was like life stuck in mud and moving at the rate of a dial up connection.

The whoosh of a rocket came from the side hitting the side of the bunker. The explosion flung Gage forward along with mortar, steel and concrete. The bloodied radio landed first his mothers’ hand still clutched to it.... her arm landed a few feet from that..

Smaller pebbles landed scattering by their feet.

Ricochet screamed horrified as he watched his wife blown apart by the rocket and debris.

Azlen grabbing Ricochet by the shoulders and dragging him back, away from the fire and the twisted body of Gage. Ricochet fighting struggling to get to the body... or what was left of it...

"Secondary bunker!" Azlen roared.

The weapons inside igniting and exploding causing more damage and debris to fly into the air.

"DAD!" Jaela yelled swinging open the warehouse door, machine gun on her back. "I radioed Kovac, he's on his way, the tower is already down. The guards are radioing the walls are clear and gates sealed, they're already in the city.. where's mom?" She asked seeing their faces.

Azlen shook his head. "Get in the basement! Now!" he growled shoving her and Vandal back towards the basement door.

"Azlen, get them out of here." Ricochet snapped.

"Not without you." the Archan turned on the Ontra.

"Azlen..." Ricochet even a cold gaze at him. "JBB wants me, get the kids out of here and let me take care of him."

Azlen looked to the two pups, then Ricochet, then the pups. "No." He snapped defying orders. "I'm not letting you fight them alone."

"Neither am I!" Jaela growled.

"OH NO YOU DON"T!" Both Ric and Azlen snarled. "Basement bunker! NOW!" They pointed.

Vandal shook his head, opening the basement door, he jumped back. "DAD! It's on fire!"

The flames could be heard crackling from the open door as thick black smoke started to pour out.

Ricochet and Azlen both looked at each other, drawing their weapons.

"The kids." Ricochet hissed.

Azlen looked at him fearfully. "It was an honor and pleasure serving you." He hissed grabbing Jaela's arm and dragged her towards the back of the building they called home.

Vandal looked back at his father. "Dad?"

"Go Vandal... I love you." Ricochet nodded to him.

Vandal choked up, nodding back, trying not to cry as he was yanked by Azlen's tail to follow. They exited the back door just as the gun shots started to ring in the front.

Azlen hissed for some reason shoving both of them towards the bikes. "Get on!" he growled through clenched teeth. Jaela grabbed the bikes handles and revved it up. Vandal climbed onto the back. "Don't stop for anything, get to the emergency gate." He demanded jumping onto his own bike. "I'll cover you. Don't stop!"

"But Dad-!" Jaela protested.

"-Has been in worse than this and got out alive, he will again. MOVE IT!" Azlen snapped.

Jaela kicked her motorcycle into gear and drove out the alley. In her mirrors she could see Azlen staying close to her rear tire and the mob beyond pouring into her home and some getting shot and falling as they tried to move past the entrance.

She looked ahead to the crowds on the streets, she couldn't get past that. "Vandal! See the flag pole above the Tavern?"

"yeah?" Vandal looked up as they approached it.

"Stand up and jump to it."

"ARE YOU NUTS!?" Vandal yelped.

"Don't argue just do it. Land on Azlen's bike when he gets under you." She demanded, her knuckles turning white on the grips.

"Sis, I don't like this plan." Vandal protested putting his feet under him, grabbing her shoulders and trying to stay steady.

"Trust me Vandal, I can't maneuver with you on my back." Jaela said, her voice softer then usual.

"I trust you." Vandal said. His last words to his sister.

“I trust you.” Vandal said as they neared the building, with a leap, The hybrid jumped and caught the pole. Dangling there, he looked down... Azlen wasn't there.. He looked over his shoulder but couldn't see anything. Swinging, he got his feet up onto the pole that started to bend down. Feeling like an easy target he slunk up the pole to the base. Reaching he gripped the edge of the roof and hauled himself up.
Once there he ducked down. Alone on the roof, he glanced over the edge.

Azlen's bike was on its side a block back.. Azlen wasn't there...

Jaela and her bike vanished into the crowd of JBB's army, her blond hair could be seen as she shot and fought with her knives amongst them, then the mob swallowed her whole.

The warehouse was on fire.....

Slinking along the roof, Vandal headed for the nearby wall, and the foot hills where the emergency bunker was, he could grab one of the two bikes and head towards Kovac’s position. Provided that team wasn’t already inside the city fighting.

Getting onto the thick wall surrounding the city wasn't a problem, the shots ringing out behind him were. Something sharp bit into his arms, legs and back, he jumped the too high of a distance and tumbled down into the sand, ignoring.. he was sure.. a broken arm.

He ran.

The ground peppered around him.

Still he ran.

He didn’t look back at the sound of explosions.

He ran.... to the near by foot hills and didn't stop until he was out of breath. Finding the small narrow gap, he crawled in, wedging himself awkwardly to the gap he swore was larger last time he was here. He finally turned to look back. Breathing hard, sweaty and shaking, he watched the city turn yellow and red umbrellaed by black smoke.

The spec that was being raised on the grand central flag pole... looked like a body....

"No.." he hissed reaching into his jackets pocket and fumbling for the small binoculars. Putting it to his eyes, he could see his father.. what was left of him.. dangling upside down by the feet, dripping blood, even his dark hair was crimson. He lowered the binoculars quickly. Sobbing. Ducking down into the narrow gap and through the small passage way into the bunker. He shoved the open door closed. Turning and locking the door.

Treating his wounds in the small room. Tying his arm up in a sling. The sounds of revving of bikes and gun shots never stopped. There was no way Vandal could get out of the cave and make it to the tribe on foot with JBB's men looking for him, killing anyone that moved on the outside of the wall trying to escape.

He stayed pinned. Holding his breath as soldiers scurried around the foot hills trying to find anyone who escaped. Vandal couldn't believe he wasn’t' found, or maybe he was just lucky enough that he was only a hybrid and not heir to the city.... Waiting until the sounds ceased, he pulled open a second interior door, slinking along the narrow tunnels to the larger room where the spare vehicles were kept.

Under the pitch-black sky, Vandal slunk out of the bunker. He hobbled pushing the light weight motorcycle, away from the fallen city, away... away from everything and everyone one he knew. He couldn't go back; he couldn't go anywhere they'd look for him. He couldn't even go find his baby brother or daughter! He was too recognizable. He had to find someplace else to call home... or wander aimlessly without one.... damn... did his arm hurt. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, he dared got on the motorcycle. He headed East. No idea what lay east of Brimstone.

Azlen spotted the shadow of dust stirring up heading east. Bleeding and limping, he held Jaela against him as they ducked behind dumpster as voices shouted racing towards the west wall where the C4 he had set went off. "Come on." He ushered her to the small hidden bunker in the foot hills.
Sliding down in to a narrow gap, shoving open the heavy door, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.
"How bad are you?" Azlen whispered listening to the quiet as more distractions exploded rocked the city, crumbling the western wall. Shutting the door carefully, locking it. He fumbled until he found one of the lanterns. Lightening it, he spotted the scattered first aid supplies and open kit left behind.

"Bad." Jaela hissed. "Did Vandal take the spare bike?"

"Just the one. The dirt bike is still here." Azlen sighed heavily, slipping on something wet. “He’s gone.”

"Can you stitch me up? We'll head towards the metropolis." Jaela asked with a painful hiss.

"yeah." Picking up some of the supplied not used, he turned around seeing her undress. "Oh, Jae..."

"Shhh, we got a plan. Just sew." She hissed, sitting down on the lone platform cot.

The chill before the dawn made them both shiver as they drove off towards the nearest city. The buzz of the dirt bike ignored in favor of the burning city and failing wall structure.