User:Firehound450

I heard a low growl through the grogginess of my mind, and felt a definitive tug at my collar. I lapsed back into the darkness before I could grasp the danger in those 2 sensations. Some while later, an abrupt cold, wet feeling spread across my body and brought me back to. As I struggled to sit up, and clear my eyes, a hazy form knocked me back down. I scarcely had time to be annoyed before an explosion tore through the night, bringing me the rest of the way back to consciousness. I opened my eyes in time to see a lightbar fly over my head and land some distance behind me. On my left and right, 2 large dogs lay half sunk in the mud puddle. Their coats were a matted mess of grease, soot and mud; although if you looked closely you could tell that at one time they had been white, with black spots. That was a long, long time ago...

My mind drifted back over the years, to another place and time, to a moderate house down a country road. A pretty woman, with long hazel, hair had a baby in her arms and a youngster by her side. A small beagle leapt at her feet as I pulled into the drive. A throaty bark from the passenger seat dissolved into a throaty bark from the mud puddle I sat in. I shook my head. now was NOT the time to wander down memory lane. Not out in the open, especially not at night.

I unsteadily rose to my feet and took a look around. Directly In front of me an old Chevy suburban burned fiercely, illuminating the dark abandoned buildings surrounding us. I figured I hadn't been out too long, as the fire resulting from the crash would have quickly reached one of the several jury-rigged fuel tanks that allowed the MFD to run whatever it could find through its few drivable rigs. I reached for my radio. "Dispatch, Auxiliary Rig 450...". Silence was my only answer. I tried again several times before hooking the mic back to my lapel in frustration. I was on my own. Well not completely. A silent, fuzzy streak of dirt went dashing past me into the wasteland beside the road. "Good boy Stokes!" I thought... count on Stokes to be thinking with his stomach in a time like this. That wasteland was a good place to run down a few rabbits, and we had a roaring fire to cook them on. I approached the burning wreckage that had recently been a 1987 Chevy. The fire was sputtering out in the front, having exhausted the oil, sludge, and burnables in the front seats and engine compartment. I figured the wood stuffed in the back of the rig would burn for a while, and would deter any solitary zeds for a time at least. Sitting in its rack on the hood was the metal handled ax I had mounted there for just such a contingency. As I grabbed it with my wet fire gloves, it sputtered and my gloves steamed. A sudden idea seized me, and I quickly shed my sodden gear and propped it up on debris so the fire would dry it a bit. Leaving my fire gloves on, I went and dropped my ax into the puddle to cool. When it was, I took it back closer to the fire and stuck it in the ground, hanging a glove off each side of the head.

I settled in for a bit while my other dog sniffed around the perimeter. I felt relatively safe, there wasn't a zombie yet that could hide its stench from a dogs nose. Any survivors would have probably made an appearance by now too. A rustling in the bushes interrupted the dog's incessant sniffing. He delivered a low growl, and sent out a challenging bark. He was answered by his brother, Stokes, emerging from the road side ditch with 3 rabbits in his mouth. Stokes dropped the rabbits at my feet, and pranced around a bit with an excited whine. "Spoiled dog" I muttered happily as I patted him on the head. "Some pups eat these things raw ya know boy. But as long as you bring enough in so we can all eat , you can hunt 'em, and I'll clean 'em and cook 'em."

By the time dawn was turning the night sky a dark blue, the fire was dying out. I shrugged on my almost dry bunker gear, making sure to fasten the neck flaps well. It's kinda hard to bite your way through a material designed to withstand direct flames... I slung my ax and took one last look at the burned heap of my poor old truck. "Like a Rock!!" the old Chevy adds claimed. "Like a rock indeed" I thought, "it's gonna sit right there, just like that till the end of time." I gave a rising whistle and two mudballs rose from where they had been snoozing. "Come on boys!" I said, "Time to get ourselves out of this mess and back somewhere where we can do some good!"