Moonlight and Mayhem
A Very Odd Romance
© 2010 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  cherushi and  amonomega

Five


Max got to his feet and the group slipped into a roistering mass of drunken furs who, having exhausted the possibilities afforded by the houses, were headed up the road to the main settlement, Fort Bob. A few fell by the wayside, cushioned in the thick beach grass and already snoring.

At one point they passed a large warehouse with a sign over its door. Max took one look and shouted, “I’ll sue!”

“What for, Max?” Sam looked up at the sign, which displayed a dragon that could charitably be described as ‘well-endowed.’

“Copyright infringement!”

Sam tsked, shaking her head as she took the vulpine’s paw. “Max, my dear, that . . . can’t be copyrighted. Either you have it, or you don’t.”

He cocked an eye at her, one ear dipping.

The badger femme smiled sweetly. “And you definitely have it.”

The shiba inu rolled his eyes as Max started blowing kisses at Sam. “Look, should I leave you two alone? Do you want a room for the night? Or would you prefer a stage with floodlights?”

“No!” Max said. “I want something to eat, and then we have to track down Louie! Where do you go to get some grub around here?”

A shrug. “Most of the food shops are up in Fort Bob. There’s one here, at the Lucky Dragon – if you don’t mind the other things they do here.”

“Oh? What else do they do here?”

“Gambling and women.”

“Women!” The fox’s eyes lit up, then he realized who was looming behind him. “Er, maybe some other time . . . Sam?”

“Yes, Max?”

“Are you getting ready to hit me?”

“Do I have a reason?”

“Hmm. Not yet. I think we need to get up the road and get some food.”

“Wonderful idea, Max.” Lights could be seen at a distance north and slightly inland from the warehouses, and they headed up the track towards them. “Tell me something, Max.”

“What, Sam?”

“Have you – “ she broke off, suddenly staggering a half-step back and waving a paw in front of her nose. “What the HELL is that smell?"

Max raised his muzzle and sniffed, then sniffed again and crested, like a wine connoisseur sampling a rare vintage’s ‘nose.’ "Hmmmm. Body odor - mephit,” he said judiciously. “Bootleg hooch, and a failed effort to use the WC...what? What?" he asked, catching Sam looking at him.

"How do you KNOW this, Max?"

"I'm just a font of useful information."

"Too much information, more like." She poked the shiba inu. “What the hell’s causing that stink?”

The canine’s tail thrashed. “We need to get under cover! C’mon, hurry!” He led the badger and the fox into a clump of bushes. “Stay quiet and he might not see you.”

“Who, dammit?” Sam asked.

The canine’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“Mad Mac.”

Max sniffed. “He’s getting closer. So, ‘Mad Mac,’ eh? How’d he get that name? He a professional boxer or something?”

The canine shushed him. “He’s crazy – beats people to death with his bare paws. He must be on his way down to The Beach.” He looked back at Sam. “He occasionally goes down there and grabs one of the girls for the night. Most of them,” and his voice dropped lower, “don’t survive.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that, and drew her pistol.

Their guide shook his head. “Don’t shoot him – you’ll just make him angry.”

Just then, silhouetted against the lights from the Lucky Dragon, a skunk-shape lumbered into view and the stink increased exponentially. He was a mass of oily, unkempt fur, almost naked and his bare feet stamped on the rutted earth. He paused, sniffing, and headed further down the road.

Doors could be heard slamming shut at his approach.

The canine sighed and straightened up. “Coast is clear, I think. If he’s headed down there, we might not cross paths again.”

Max emerged from the undergrowth, picking dead leaves from a sleeve. “Sounds like a fun guy. Any more like him around? I’ve got a cousin I need to warn never to go near him.”

“You have cousins, Max?” Sam asked.

“About a dozen or so, Sam.”

“If they’re anything like you, family reunions must be lively.”

“Well, Sam, you know what they say.”

“What?”

“No fair,” the short fox said. “I was asking you. Anyway, one Catalina fox is trouble. Two is a brawl, and three is a riot.”

“And four, Max?”

“Close harmony, Sam.”

“Well, I’m not listening to you sing tonight, Max. We need food and a safe place to bed down,” Sam told the canine.

“Safest spot’s going to be with me,” the half-Japanese fellow said. “But keep whatever weapons you have very close at paw. I live on the outskirts of the place – “

“Not the upskirts?” Max asked, and ducked a swing from his inamorata.

“I try to avoid certain places,” the canine continued. “People like us don’t have a long life expectancy on this rock.”

“Places like what, exactly?” Sam asked as he showed them into a nondescript shack.

“Well, I don’t go anywhere near the Hill – that’s where the big shots live.”

“Why?”

“They got private armies,” the shiba inu replied, “and some of them are ex-cops and ex-military. Good chance one of ‘em might be ex-Syndicate, and spot me.”

The badgeress nodded. “Sensible. What else?”

The canine shivered. “The church.”

“They got a church here?” Max asked. “R.C., C. of E., or undecided?”

“I heard plenty about the place, and it’s definitely nowhere you want to go,” the informant said. “They do sacrifices there.”

“Virgin?”

“Dunno.”

“I hope it isn’t virgins,” Max said. “There’s a shortage of those.”

“Only near Great Wolf Lake, Max,” Sam said.

“Why only there, Sam?”

“Well, it gets dark early up there. Now, you’ve seen Morpion here, right?”

“Up in the Thieves’ Bazaar,” the canine replied with a nod as he lit a small kerosene lamp. “’Morpion’ – French guy?”

“Morpion’s an alias,” Max growled, “and he’s a louse, straight through. Now, I say we split up tomorrow and go looking for him. First one that finds him lays him out and calls the others.” He sat down in a corner with a smug grin.

"That's an interesting plan, Max. Tell me, have you been sniffing paint fumes again?"

"No, Sam. The glazed look in my eyes is me being awestruck by your beauty, as always."

"Don't change the subject, Max. Save it for when we get out of here."

"Besides, you changed the lock on the Orca’s paint locker,” Max said. “Again. What's the matter, don't you trust me? Don't answer that!" he said hastily.

The tod-fox and the badgeress unrolled their bedrolls and settled down, and their guide put out the light.




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