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“Weasels of the Apocalypse” by Ben Goodridge (part 1 of 2)
Two scavengers in a fallen city get more than they bargain for when they protect a desperate young thief from an unforgiving pursuer.
Today’s story is the first of two parts of “Weasels of the Apocalypse” by Ben Goodridge, who wrote “Akela” for Goal Publications and “Found One Apocalypse” for FurPlanet.
Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.
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https://thevoice.dog/episode/weasels-of-the-apocalypse-by-ben-goodridge-part-1-of-2
Transcript
You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,
Speaker:and Today’s story is the first of two parts of
Speaker:“Weasels of the Apocalypse”
Speaker:by Ben Goodridge, who wrote “Akela” for Goal Publications
Speaker:and “Found One Apocalypse” for FurPlanet.
Speaker:Please enjoy “Weasels of the Apocalypse”
Speaker:by Ben Goodridge,
Speaker:Part 1 of 2 The Stoat stood at the edge of the firelight,
Speaker:gazing out into the driving rain.
Speaker:His fur wasn’t dry yet.
Speaker:His straight gray mane,
Speaker:tied into a thick braid that hung to his waist,
Speaker:still felt like damp rope.
Speaker:His linen clothes were so dirty and ragged
Speaker:that it hardly mattered whether they were dry or not.
Speaker:In general, Rumer was fastidious and well-groomed,
Speaker:but they’d spent a week scouring the ruins, leaving him grubby and unkempt.
Speaker:Most of the building had collapsed to rubble,
Speaker:but enough still stood to provide meager shelter.
Speaker:Vast concrete slabs
Speaker:blocked the worst of the wind.
Speaker:Somewhere beyond the storm,
Speaker:the sun had set, and the fire was their only light.
Speaker:“He’s still out there,”
Speaker:he said. The Ferret was pulling jars from their food pack and holding them up to the light,
Speaker:regarding the contents critically.
Speaker:The mask on Paul’s face made him hard to read sometimes.
Speaker:He was much older than Rumer, with light streaks throughout his gray fur
Speaker:and a shaggy mane of hair that had been white for a decade.
Speaker:Lithe as a weasel was,
Speaker:he was just starting to soften around the middle,
Speaker:and the skin on his face was loose and lined.
Speaker:“And I suppose you’re going to go talk to him.”
Speaker:It was a statement, not a question.
Speaker:“There’s enough food for three.”
Speaker:Paul held up a jar and examined it.
Speaker:“Not really.” “Warmth enough for three, anyway.
Speaker:Besides, he looks hungry.
Speaker:I really doubt he’s picky.”
Speaker:“Probably stab you as soon as you get close,
Speaker:and then me later tonight when he works up the courage.
Speaker:You know how scavengers are.”
Speaker:Rumer gave him a judgmental look.
Speaker:“We’re scavengers.”
Speaker:“Of course. So you know how scavengers are.”
Speaker:Rumer held up his braid.
Speaker:“I have this.” Paul didn’t look up.
Speaker:“That’s not always going to protect you,”
Speaker:he said. “It barely protects you now.”
Speaker:“Don’t be silly,” said Rumer.
Speaker:“My braid could stop a bullet.”
Speaker:He strolled out into the rain.
Speaker:Paul’s warnings had been a token effort at best.
Speaker:Given an opportunity to show kindness,
Speaker:nothing could slow Rumer down.
Speaker:Paul continued auditing their supplies.
Speaker:Rumer had managed to gather a massive quantity of scrap.
Speaker:Paul couldn’t identify half of it,
Speaker:but Rumer usually managed to bring in a profit anyway.
Speaker:Somewhere in that bag was exactly what a trader or builder might be looking for.
Speaker:He re-divided their food into three portions.
Speaker:It wasn’t as meager as he thought it was -
Speaker:he’d have to slice the travel bread a bit thinner,
Speaker:but there was still sharp cheese,
Speaker:a bit of jam, and a full jar of tinned apples.
Speaker:He rested the apples on the rocks to warm up,
Speaker:filling the shelter with the smell of cinnamon.
Speaker:There was an old potato in the bottom of the bag,
Speaker:next to the coffee they’d been trading,
Speaker:and a large bag of peanuts,
Speaker:raisins, and broken chocolate that had somehow stayed dry for a week.
Speaker:He looked up from his work.
Speaker:Rumer was approaching their shelter again,
Speaker:Ermine in tow. Both looked as if they’d been shoved into the river.
Speaker:Rumer was handsome enough to look good even when soaked through,
Speaker:his glossy fur clinging to the gentle curve of his belly
Speaker:and casting an iridescent glow all along his tail.
Speaker:His guest, on the other hand,
Speaker:had the distinct appearance of a drowned rat.
Speaker:Long, stringy hair concealed a shy face
Speaker:except for a single baleful blue eye,
Speaker:the rag he wore barely covered his assets,
Speaker:and his white fur looked all the worse for the grime rubbed into it.
Speaker:“More water in the stew, lover,
Speaker:company’s here,” said Rumer,
Speaker:ushering the hangdog Ermine into the firelight.
Speaker:“Do you imagine we could spare a crust of stale bread and a strip of rat jerky for our new friend?”
Speaker:Paul spared a glance at the stranger while he prepped their supper.
Speaker:Rumer was right -
Speaker:the Ermine was terrified,
Speaker:but “terrified” didn’t mean “safe.”
Speaker:“I think we can manage pretty well,” he said.
Speaker:“Found a little extra in the bottom of the bag.
Speaker:We should eat it before it goes off.”
Speaker:“Dibs on the potato,” said Rumer, sitting down and urging the Ermine to do the same.
Speaker:The Ermine did so as if afraid that the concrete would explode when he gave it his weight.
Speaker:“So there’s this rumor going around that you have a name,” said Paul.
Speaker:“Did you want to share it?”
Speaker:“You’re very old,” blurted the Ermine.
Speaker:Rumer’s face went rigid, but Paul didn’t pause in his work for a moment.
Speaker:“Interesting sort of name.
Speaker:Is that a family name or did your tribe give it to you?”
Speaker:“He says his name’s Tarrant,” said Rumer.
Speaker:Paul glanced at the Ermine.
Speaker:“Tarrant. That’s a Western name.
Speaker:You come all the way over the mountains, Tarrant?”
Speaker:“Yes, sir,” said Tarrant.
Speaker:“Sorry, sir.” “Nothing to apologize for.
Speaker:I’m Paul. Sixty-three, last birthday, but one hopes I have a few good years left in me.
Speaker:I suppose to someone as young as you,
Speaker:I do seem very old.”
Speaker:“Among my people, the elderly are venerated.
Speaker:One doesn’t often see them outside the villages, where their needs are met and their hobbies and professions indulged.
Speaker:They teach our children and advise our councils.”
Speaker:“Well, I’m not quite there yet,”
Speaker:said Paul. “Though I could stand a bit more veneration, frankly.” “Oh,
Speaker:you get venerated plenty,” said Rumer.
Speaker:“Hell, I venerated you twice last night.
Speaker:Didn’t hear you complaining.”
Speaker:“That’s because you venerate so well, my love,” said Paul.
Speaker:He handed out bread and cheese to each of them, Rumer ate like a Stoat used to regular meals,
Speaker:but Tarrant devoured his at a gulp.
Speaker:“Do you remember the orange sky?”
Speaker:said Tarrant. “Sure.
Speaker:I was a boy then, mind you, but everyone saw it.
Speaker:All over the world,
Speaker:even where it was night.”
Speaker:“What was it like?” Paul looked thoughtful.
Speaker:“It was…the best thing ever,”
Speaker:he said. “Everything seemed so much brighter afterwards.
Speaker:The air was cleaner. The way the water flowed.
Speaker:The trees were greener.
Speaker:At least that’s how it felt.
Speaker:My father…he really put a paw to it when he said it felt like we’d passed some kind of test.
Speaker:Our people found a strength they never realized they had.
Speaker:Damn good thing, too,
Speaker:since they were about to inherit the Earth.”
Speaker:“So you remember when these cities were full of humans,”
Speaker:said Tarrant. “Oh, very much so.
Speaker:Bustling, glistening, stinking, beautiful cities with vast glittering towers
Speaker:day and night. Rivers of cars flowing along the streets,
Speaker:flashing lights everywhere, advertising screaming for everyone’s attention,
Speaker:shops, schools, homes,
Speaker:it was such a wonderful madness,
Speaker:intoxicating and glorious.
Speaker:If you had told ten-year-old me that within fifty years all those magnificent cities would lie in ruins,
Speaker:that the humans would hand the gift of the planet over to the humble Tribes living in relative squalor in the forests and deserts…I
Speaker:would have thought you were insane.
Speaker:People live and die,
Speaker:buildings rise and fall, but no one,
Speaker:not even our Shamans, predicted…”
Speaker:He waved his paw sort of generally at the hundred square miles of devastated ruin that surrounded them.
Speaker:“Your father said it was a test,” said Rumer.
Speaker:“Apparently the humans failed.
Speaker:I understand things were terrible for about twenty years before the silence fell.”
Speaker:Paul turned over the potato and checked the apples.
Speaker:Almost done. “The shamans in our Tribe were blindsided,”
Speaker:he said. “Around here, at least, the humans were kind to us.
Speaker:It was a grave tragedy when we stopped seeing them everywhere.
Speaker:No fiery wars, no ecological disaster, no great plague, nothing.
Speaker:It’s like they just…gave
Speaker:up. Our people all over the world have done their best to analyze the orange sky,
Speaker:to learn why the humans fell,
Speaker:but there are precious few humans to ask now,
Speaker:and they’re not talking.”
Speaker:He wrapped his paw in a cloth
Speaker:and scooped hot apples and cinnamon into a bowl,
Speaker:which he gave to Tarrant.
Speaker:The potato, he gave to Rumer,
Speaker:while he himself finished off the travel bread and jam.
Speaker:As expected, Tarrant devoured his share,
Speaker:while Rumer tossed his from paw to paw
Speaker:before pinning it to a plate with a knife and eating it skewered.
Speaker:“I remember some of it when I was a little boy,”
Speaker:said Rumer. “I was born eight years after the orange sky, but the fall of the cities came later.
Speaker:There were fires in the sky, and the
Speaker:great buildings collapsing like trees.
Speaker:Every day, a plume of smoke, a plume of dust, and another landmark withdrew from the skyline.
Speaker:Floods devoured entire neighborhoods.
Speaker:Used to be that humans would just rebuild,
Speaker:but now they didn’t bother.
Speaker:Sometimes they watched with us.
Speaker:Sometimes they died in the ruins.”
Speaker:He drank water from a canteen.
Speaker:“I started to see things in my sleep, things that
Speaker:rousted me at night, sweating and screaming.
Speaker:So my parents sought the Shamans to help.
Speaker:They put me back together again.”
Speaker:“Are you a Shaman?”
Speaker:said Tarrant. “You have the braid.”
Speaker:“I am. I’m mostly a scavenger like my partner here,
Speaker:but I help when I can
Speaker:and advise when I’m asked.” “Can you
Speaker:prophesy?” Paul glanced at Rumer,
Speaker:whose face had tightened again.
Speaker:Rumer never liked to commit.
Speaker:“Well,” said Rumer carefully,
Speaker:“Maybe.” “Yes,” said Paul, stirring the apples.
Speaker:“Maybe,” insisted Rumer.
Speaker:“Truth is, son, it can be hard to tell what’s prophecy and what’s just keeping your eyes and ears open.
Speaker:When you have the whole Tribe coming to you with all their problems,
Speaker:it’s really easy to sound like you know everything.
Speaker:It’s like predicting the weather.
Speaker:The clouds today tell you if there’s rain tomorrow, that sort of thing.
Speaker:It’s not all that reliable.”
Speaker:“Keep managing those expectations,” said Paul.
Speaker:Rumer sighed. “Look,” he said,
Speaker:clambering to his feet and concealing himself behind a pillar.
Speaker:“Can you see me?” “Well,
Speaker:no,” said Tarrant. “But you know I’m here.
Speaker:How?” “Well, I saw you go behind the pillar.
Speaker:I can hear you.” “You can’t see me,
Speaker:but you know I’m here,” said Rumer.
Speaker:“That’s not prophecy, that’s observation.
Speaker:Prophecy would be knowing that I’m here without any observation.”
Speaker:“Being a prophet is like
Speaker:ninety percent psychology,
Speaker:ten percent prophecy,” said Paul.
Speaker:“Ninety-nine percent,” said Rumer, still behind the pillar.
Speaker:“Ninety-five percent,” insisted Paul.
Speaker:“Ninety-eight,” conceded Rumer. “Of course,
Speaker:no prophecy is worth anything if you don’t keep your eyes open.”
Speaker:He stepped out from behind a different pillar,
Speaker:wet cloak glistening in the firelight,
Speaker:an impish look in his eyes.
Speaker:Tarrant jumped. “Don’t mind him,” said Paul.
Speaker:“He loves that trick.”
Speaker:He portioned out the trail mix,
Speaker:failing to give himself the lion’s share of the chocolate, as he’d intended.
Speaker:“What about you, son? How do you get
Speaker:by?” “Oh. I, uh…” Tarrant seemed suddenly embarrassed.
Speaker:“I scavenge, when I can.
Speaker:Sometimes I find food. There
Speaker:are still lots of canned goods in the ruins.
Speaker:Sometimes a Tribe will put me up for the night.”
Speaker:“And they don’t take you in?”
Speaker:“I don’t really have the kind of skills they’re looking for, long term,” said Tarrant.
Speaker:“I just…sort of…” He shrugged.
Speaker:“I get by.” Rumer flicked his ears.
Speaker:“Still, if you have no Tribe, someone should be willing to take you on and teach you some skills.
Speaker:Cooking, at least,
Speaker:or farming. There’s always a call for warm bodies in the fields.”
Speaker:Paul chewed tough bread.
Speaker:“I don’t think it’s the fields where his warm body is needed,”
Speaker:he said. Rumer’s brow furrowed.
Speaker:“Tarrant?” Tarrant nodded.
Speaker:His stringy hair obscured his expression.
Speaker:“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,”
Speaker:said Paul lightly.
Speaker:“It’s not done much around here.
Speaker:Our Tribes don’t like using our bodies for transactions.
Speaker:But it’s not unheard of.
Speaker:If you’ve nothing else to sell, it can be a good way to get the ground under your feet until something better comes along.”
Speaker:Rumer still looked concerned.
Speaker:“You didn’t come in here to trade yourself for a meal, did you?”
Speaker:Silence. Tarrant nodded again.
Speaker:Paul and Rumer exchanged glances,
Speaker:and Rumer sighed. “That’s not the scavenger way,”
Speaker:he said. “You’re our guest.
Speaker:Plus, you have far more value than a cheese sandwich and a few preserved apples.
Speaker:Those who do take you to bed
Speaker:should have the wherewithal to treat you like royalty.”
Speaker:“Let our hospitality be our gift to you
Speaker:and trouble yourself no more about it,” said Paul.
Speaker:“In fact, after we’ve had a good night’s rest, we’re going to set out for our village.
Speaker:I’m sure we can find a place for you among our people.”
Speaker:“God knows we could use an extra pair of paws in the warehouse,”
Speaker:muttered Rumer. He caught Tarrant’s shameful look.
Speaker:“There’s no disgrace in survival, love.
Speaker:My experience, however, has been that people who enter such a profession
Speaker:tend to barter far too cheaply for their services.
Speaker:The profession should elevate,
Speaker:not degrade.” He finished his supper
Speaker:and leaned back against the pillar.
Speaker:“I’ve always wanted to travel to the west.
Speaker:Miles and miles of waving grasses where corn once grew,
Speaker:empty farms and dead tractors,
Speaker:long, cracked highways to nowhere.
Speaker:One trader said you could walk all day and still see home, wherever you stand.”
Speaker:“It’s flat and boring.
Speaker:And dry,” said Tarrant.
Speaker:“Well, I suppose if you grow up there, it’s normal,”
Speaker:said Paul. “But maybe Rumer and I will go there this spring, just to have a look.
Speaker:As far as Ohio, maybe?”
Speaker:“Oh, Iowa, at least,” said Rumer.
Speaker:“I’m in touch with a writer from Des Moines.
Speaker:He says he always has room for adventurers.”
Speaker:Tarrant didn’t react to this -
Speaker:no grave warnings or confessions of exile.
Speaker:It was possible he really had just left home to see the world.
Speaker:Rumer stoked the fire,
Speaker:making a log pop and a little fountain of sparks fly up.
Speaker:“How many are there?”
Speaker:said Paul. “Oh, six, I think.”
Speaker:“No more than that?”
Speaker:“Well, six is enough, wouldn’t you say?
Speaker:Rather makes me wonder what he did.”
Speaker:He nodded at Tarrant, who recoiled.
Speaker:“What I did? I didn’t do anything,”
Speaker:said Tarrant, his western accent leaking through.
Speaker:“That may be true,” said Rumer.
Speaker:“But right now there are six Coyotes from Kancamagus Pass surrounding our shelter,
Speaker:and they have guns.”
Speaker:Tarrant jumped. He whipped around, trying to see in every direction at once,
Speaker:but he could see nothing through the driving rain.
Speaker:Muscles in his leg bunched up as if he was preparing to spring.
Speaker:Rumer reached a paw out and clamped it down, hard, on his ankle.
Speaker:Tarrant tumbled in the dust. “Let me go,” cried Tarrant.
Speaker:“I have to get away from here.
Speaker:They’ll kill us all.”
Speaker:“Slow down, Speedy,” said Rumer.
Speaker:Tarrant had nearly dislocated his shoulder, but his paw remained clamped on Tarrant’s ankle.
Speaker:“I’m a Shaman and a Prophet.
Speaker:They’re not going to fire at the braid.
Speaker:But I can’t be clutching your leg when I extend my protection to you. Do you understand?
Speaker:It has to be fully voluntary.
Speaker:I have to let you go.
Speaker:If you bolt, I can’t protect you,
Speaker:and they will catch you and kill you.
Speaker:If you stay here,
Speaker:we can talk it out.” Tarrant
Speaker:was shaking all over.
Speaker:Rumer recognized his exhaustion;
Speaker:he’d been running a long time,
Speaker:and the only emotions he could feel now were primal and reactive.
Speaker:Fear was the only thing keeping him awake.
Speaker:Paul finished the apples.
Speaker:“You sure we’ll be okay?”
Speaker:“Have a little faith,”
Speaker:said Rumer. “I’m taking my paw away.
Speaker:After that, you’ll be under my protection.
Speaker:Do you understand?” Tarrant nodded.
Speaker:Rumer lifted his paw, and Tarrant drew his leg in.
Speaker:He didn’t run, but it was a close thing - Rumer figured about 50-50 that Tarrant would make a dash for it any minute. “I am
Speaker:a Shaman of the Order of Winnepesaukee.
Speaker:In the name of my people and my Tribe, and by rights as a peacekeeper,
Speaker:I extend the protection of my Order to Tarrant,
Speaker:traveler from the West,
Speaker:for so long as he needs it.”
Speaker:He spoke this part loudly enough to be heard over the rain.
Speaker:It was as much greeting as warning,
Speaker:and soon the Coyotes emerged from the darkness.
Speaker:Their clothing was sparse and light,
Speaker:more suited for speed than defense.
Speaker:In the firelight, their paints seemed luminous and sharp,
Speaker:even on their fur.
Speaker:Their bodies were slick and shining -
Speaker:the rain gave them no rest.
Speaker:They carried guns,
Speaker:but didn’t hold them.
Speaker:One had a black hawk feather pinned to his ear.
Speaker:“Evening,” said Paul.
Speaker:“I’m afraid all the food’s gone, but the fire’s still
Speaker:warm. You’re welcome to take a place, dry off a bit.”
Speaker:“We’re not here to be social,” said Hawk Feather.
Speaker:“For five days we’ve pursued Tarrant through this city.
Speaker:This is the first time he’s stopped long enough for us to catch up.”
Speaker:“Well, I’m glad he did, so we could meet all of you,”
Speaker:said Rumer. “What did you need him for?”
Speaker:“He’s a thief who escaped captivity before we could pass sentence.
Speaker:sentence.” “Ah,” said Rumer.
Speaker:He examined his claws thoughtfully.
Speaker:“I suppose you heard that he was under my protection.”
Speaker:“You can’t defend him with words, Shaman,”
Speaker:said Hawk Feather.
Speaker:“A bullet will kill him whether you protect him or not.” Tarrant
Speaker:whimpered. “You know,
Speaker:even talking about firing upon the braid can put you lot in the soup,”
Speaker:said Paul. “We can’t let his crime go unpunished,”
Speaker:said Hawk Feather,
Speaker:unsnapping his holster
Speaker:and drawing his pistol.
Speaker:“These are grave times for our people.
Speaker:We fight a war on two fronts,
Speaker:and every advantage is needed.
Speaker:Without discipline,
Speaker:without justice, we’re lost.
Speaker:We may appeal our circumstances to the Winnepesaukee,
Speaker:and ask that they overlook our trespass.”
Speaker:One by one, the Coyotes unsnapped their holsters
Speaker:and drew their weapons.
Speaker:This was the first of two parts of
Speaker:“Weasels of the Apocalypse”
Speaker:by Ben Goodridge, read for you by Khaki,
Speaker:your faithful fireside companion.
Speaker:Tune in next time to find out [if the characters weasel
Speaker:out of death by firing squad].
Speaker:As always, you can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Voice of Dog.
