The Beginning

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The Beginning

"In all the universe, in all time. Past, present, and future
twine. In the harsh and truest of all judgment. The sound
of a thousand voices, silent.
To the end of infinity and beyond, Though the stars of
nights and long. I pray I shall never see, The sound of a
thousand voices, silent, in there misery."
--Fox Cutter

Keneth weaved his bike through the stalled traffic along the interstate, as he worked his way west word, and towards the pass.

Swinging around a car that was half way in the breakdown lane, he said a silent prayer that the snows had come late this year, and the pass wasn't blocked. If they had, he decided, he probably would have been forced to go south, maybe even as far as Mexico.

And it wasn't like anyone was going to plow the roads now anyways.

He sighed to himself, as the young, nameless, boy clung a bit tighter to his mid-drift. Looking back, he smiled at the boy, who just pulled tighter against him.

'I got to get him someplace.' he though to himself, moving around another of the thousands of stalled cars. 'I can't take care of him on my own.'

He had encounter the boy a couple hundred miles back, when he was siphoning gas for the bike and the two, one gallon gas cans that filled the saddle bags. The child had been lost, alone, and a bit under fed.

So, Keneth decided to take him along. Plan at best, to drop the kid of with any kind of civilization that had coalesced, or at worst, with someone who could at least take care of a child.

He shook his head, the boy looked to be about five or six years old, with a dark mop of blondish hair, and slightly hispanic features. He hadn't said more the a few words sense they had meet, and Keneth had yet to find out his name.

'Of course,' he though bitterly, 'one hard snow when we're in the pass, and no one will even care.'

He swung a the bike around a corpus that was sprawled out in the road, beside a car. The side window was shattered, and it looked to Keneth that she had been pounding on it when she had died.

Suddenly he realized that she was a lot newer then the thousands other corpus that littered the Interstate. Maybe a few days old, two weeks at the outside.

Bringing the bike to a stop, he glanced inside the car, to see what she had died for.

Food. More accurately a stack of canned soups, sitting on the passenger side seat. Stacked ever so neatly, and with a hand held can opener sitting on the seat next to them.

"How in the hell." He muttered, wondering how come there where stack up, especially in such a way that wouldn't hold up to the car moving much. Not that moving was something it had been doing in the last two months.

What next caught his eye, was the once driver of the car's corpus, thrown into the back seat, and haphazardly covered with a blanket.

He felt his face go pale at the sight. Not from the sight it's self, but from what it represented. Slowly his started to scan the mounts on both sides of the highway. Suddenly noticing, in the fading light of the late fall sun, a small glint in the trees, on the far side from him, half way up the mountain.

"Shit!" He yelled, gunning the bike, and taking off down the road, just seconds before a gunshot smashed into the car, aim in such a way as to have gone right though his heart.

He put the bike up to fifty miles an hour, faster then he liked, but what was necessary, and took off down the breakdown lane of the highway, swerving around the stalled cars as best as he could. The boy hugged tighter to his mid-drift.

As he ran, more gunshots pinged behind him, and one lucky shot smashed into his left side-view mirror, shattering it.

Shifting the bike into a higher gear, he keep going, hoping to get out of range of the shooter as fast as he could.

Skimming past another car, made a final shot brushed pasted his ear. And then once again the air was still, except for the sound of his bike.

He only slowed down a bit, as he keep on going. Not relaxing until he was pasted a turn, and well beyond the person with the gun.

By now, the mountains around the Interstate had sunk down to small tree-lined hills, and he could see for miles out over the mountains, and to the west.

Slowing down, he still moved along the stalled traffic, which he could see stretched out for miles along the road. At his back, the top of the sun was just barely over the horizon, and night was setting in.

He pulled off the side of the road, near where the trees meet with the asphalt. He got off the bike, the boy doing the same.

Keneth stared to pushed the bike up an animal trail that he judged wide enough to take it. It was more work the necessary, but past experience had tough him not to leave his transportation out anywhere, even in the middle of nowhere. Someone was likely to steal it.

He was just glad that this time there was a natural trail to follow, the night before, and just over a hundred miles back, he had to force his way though a some think trees, taking out the mirror on the right side. Not that it mattered anymore, he doubted anyone would be coming up behind him, or with out him hearing.

After going about half a mile, he came upon a natural clearing in the forest, nestled at the base of a cliff that rose only about fifty feet.

Dropping the bikes stand, he glanced at the kid. He looked tired, but that was to be expected after riding nearly twelve hours.

"Food." The child said. It was one of the few words he had spoken sense Keneth had found him.

Walking to the back of the bike, he opened up the large trunk-like storage area. He pulled out a camping stove, a pot, and a can of soup. "Hope you like chicken noodle kid."

It was a quick, and familiar process, to get dinner made up. There wasn't much to lighting the stove and making soup, and after the number of times he had done it in the past month and a half a travel, it had become almost instinctual.

As the kid sat, happily wolfing down his food, Keneth wandered into the forest a bit, not to far, but not to close. After a short walk he found himself at the start of a deep valley of forest land.

He looked up at the partly cloud covered sky, only the light of the stars, and of the moon, illuminating the night. It was far darker, not to mention clearer, then it had been before in his life, but after the past two months, with all the light pollution gone, it had become extremely clear.

"The sound of a thousand voices, silent." He muttered, remember a phrase he had first heard years before, back when he was a teenager. Another phrase slipped into his mind, one that had been echoing in his head ever night sense he had first heard the News, three months before.

"This is the way the world ends," He whispered, "not with a bang, but a whimper."

And once again, he remembered. Remembered the night of August 27th, a day that would be live on in infamy, if anyone cared to record it.

On that day, when he was sitting at the side of his loving wife, on the old beaten up couch of his house in northern British Columbia, the 10 o'clock news reported what would be the most important event in the last days of the old world.

The USA's Center for Disease Control had come out with a report that a man who died inside New York's JFK airport four days before, from what was described as "Massive heart and lunge failure," had actually died from some new type of viral infection.

Only Four things where know about it. One, it had a three day incubation period, it was highly communicable, and that half of the people on the plane the man came in had already died from it, and the other half where dieing.

Most terrifying of all was the fact that it was to late, far FAR to late to try and stop it. The virus know only as 'Protherman' (named after the first victim) had already spread accost the globe.

Many countries tried to stop it coming in, all only to find it was too late. Others, such as some middle east counties, and a few of the Russian provinces cut ALL communication with the rest of the world, it was assumed that they failed as well.

Keneth had watched all this with grim horror, as the people he had know from most of his adult life sickened and died. Including his wife, who, after two weeks of being perfectly fine, he had hoped would be ok.

It took nearly a month, but on September 22nd, the world, the OLD world, he reminded himself, had came to a close, with a whimper.

He spent two more weeks in his home house, until he finally decided to try and find life elsewhere. He started with his car, but after a few miles, had to abandon it, resorting to walking, and eventually to a bicycle, he slowly worked his way south.

His plan was to try and find a friend of his, who had still been healthy the last time they talked, just before the phones went out, just a week before the end.

When he finally reach his friends home, it had been destroyed, burn to the ground. He searched the rubble, and found nothing to show if his friend was dead or alive.

That was the month before.

He stayed a little longer in that town, getting a few supplies, and the first in a long line of motorcycles. He keep up his trek south, but when he crossed into the USA, if such borders meant anything now, he came to the conclusion to try and find signs of a new civilization forming.

He came to the conclusion that the mid-west, to southern part of the USA may be a good place to start, as winter was coming, and he doubted most of the survivors would live through it in the northern climates.

He decided the first place to start, was Boulder Colorado. His reasons where silly in truth, but he, along with many of his friends, had read The Stand and he felt that other people who have read it may start to congregate there, for lack of a better idea.

Slowly stretching, he forced the memories of the past months into a closed place in his mind, and walked back to the camp.

The child had shut off the camp stove, and was curled up tight in a sleeping bag, snoring lightly.

Keneth smiled, and laying down on the soft ground a few feet away, drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Fragments of a dream flickered over Keneth's closed eyes. Pictures of light, a massive cave, a wolf headed man, an explosion... a massive explosion.

Taking a rapid deep breath, he instantly forced his eyes open. Above him he could see the night sky, the stars already fading from the light of the rising sun.

He groaned, hating when his dreams awoke him. Preparing to go back to sleep, rolling over he felt a massive flood of pain in his leg.

Sitting up, he saw that his leg was pinned under a fallen tree. A large rock was next to his leg, and the only thing that keep it from being shattered when the tree had fallen.

The first questing that came to mind was how he had gotten to where he was. The clearing he had gone to sleep in didn't have any kind of large rocks, except for the cliff it's self.

He started to work his left out from the tree, wanting to find the child as soon as he could. Keneth knew the boy could survive on his own, he just didn't want to leave him.

Finally, getting his leg out from under the tree, he stood up, brushing off his pants. His eyes drifted up, and saw the forest in the twilight.

"Oh god." He whispered, amazed.

The forest, for what had to be miles, was flat, totally flat. Every single tree in his range of vision was flat on the ground. There trunks where blacked with soot, as was all the soil he could see. All the trunks where pointed in the same direction, out from the nexus of the explosion.

The nexus was all to clear in the growing-light. It was the cliff he had fallen asleep under, and it had to be half a mile away. He started to walk, then faster into a run. Planting his feet between the fallen trees, he moved as fast as he could, doing his best not to miss-step, or twist his ankle.

It only took a few minutes at a hard run for him to reach the cliff side. As he ran, he was amazed at how fit he had gotten in the past month and a half of moving around.

Finally he came to where he had camped the night before. Everything was destroyed, the motorcycle was melted slag on the burnt earth, and the child was no where to be seen.

But what caught his eye the most was the cliff face. The center of it had a large area of black soot, in the shape of the atypical cartoon cave or tunnel. The path of destruction extended out from that one point.

Placing his hand on the cliff face, a rush of images flooded into his mind. A cave of light, a ball of fire, an explosion, the child, standing in light, muttering something to himself

He jerked his hand back, finding himself sweating hard. "What happened here?" he asked himself.

As if in response, he heard a low moan somewhere behind him. Turning fast, kicking up some dust, he listened for it again.

And again it came. Slowly he walked back into the devastation, following the sound of the moaning. Finally he felt he was right on top of it.

"Kid?" He called out.

The moan came again, this time right next to him. Bending down, he gave the tree next to him a massive shove. He creaking, then with a loud crack, it rolled over and back, revealing a large hole. Inside of the hold was the child.

At least he though it was. All he could see was the kids jacket, glowing a bit in the light of the still rising sun. Reaching into the hole, he picked the child up, lifting him out of the hole.

When he was the child, he let out a low gasp. The child wasn't a child anymore. He looked more like a cross between a human and a raccoon. The child had a thick fur coat of colours ranging from grey to black, as well as a small tail at the base of his spine.

The child let out another moan, wrinkling his black nose that was perched on a short muzzle. His ears had moved to the top of his head, where they where sticking out of a some much longer fur that was the same as his hair before the child's change.

"Kid?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The child open his eyes, which where still green in colour. He smiled, and whispered. "Ken." The closed his eyes again, and falling asleep.

Holding the transformed child in his lap, Keneth did a quick once over of his own body. He was still fully human, the only real problem was a nasty looking bruise on his leg where the tree had pinned him.

They sat there together, as the sun rose over the horizon, heralding the start of the new day. The child started to whimper a bit, then yawned, awaking again.

The child wiggled out of Keneth's lap, and stood, looking towards the rising sun. He stood there for a minute, his ears and tail twitching. He then slowly turned to face Keneth.

"Ben." The child said.

Keneth paused. "What?"

The child gave him a large grin, showing some teeth. "My name, Ben, Ben Carter."

Keneth smiled back. "You speak well for a child." He said.

Ben frowned, putting his hands on his hips "I am seven years old."

Nodding, Keneth stood up, brushing off his pants. "Well Ben, the bike is slag, it looks like we're going to be walking until we can find something else."

Ben smiled. "It's not as bad as it could be."

"You should really never say things like that."

He tilted his head a bit. "Why?"

In explanation, a gunshot rang out, the tree next to them exploding for the impact of the missed round.

* * *

Keneth's first reaction as the gun-shot just missed him, was to dive to the ground, pulling Ben down with him. Giving the child a quick shove he pushed him back into the hole.

"Stay there." He hissed.

The child nodded his furred head, and curled up in the hole.

Keneth looked up and around, over the decimation of the destroyed forest. A distance away he saw a man, dressed in army fatigues, standing, holding a rile against his shoulder. He was slowly scanning over the ground, as if looking for something.

Keneth was puzzled, he had no idea why the man hadn't seen him yet. Clearly he had before, or else he wouldn't have taken the shot at him.

In sudden inspiration, Keneth grabbed the shoulder of his shirt, and pulled it forward. The light blue t-shirt was covered in the same soot the covered the forest and trees.

The man started to walk down the short rise he was on, heading in the direction of the melted motorcycle. Keneth figured he would go only a few feet away from him, he doubted what little camouflage he had would stand up to being that close to someone.

With a winch, he wished he hadn't left his gun in the bike the night before. Even if he wasn't that good of a shot, the army man wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

He shifted a bit, trying to get behind a fallen tree. It wasn't much, be he hoped that it would keep him hidden until he could decide on something to do. The army man was getting closer still.

Winching, he felt something in his pocket dig into his thigh. Shoving his hand into it, he try to adjust what ever it was. Instead of having to move his keys, like he expected, his hand grabbed onto some large and heavy.

Pulling it out, he found himself grasping the handel of his pistol. "How the hell." He whispered. He didn't have the time to worry about such things yet, he had more pressing things.

The army man was only a few feet away, and unless he was blind, would see Keneth at any second.

Making a snap decision, he pulled himself up, so his head and arms where over the trunk of the fallen tree. Pulling back the hammer on the gun, he made sure the safety was off. Pointing the gun at the man, who was now just a few feet away and, luckily, looking in the other direction.

"Drop your rifle, and turn around." He said.

The man stopped walking, and lowered the rifle.

Keneth squeezed the trigger a bit. "Do what I say, or I will shoot you."

In response, the man spun on his booted heel, and raised his rifle in one swift motion. Before Keneth could do anything, he found himself looking up the barrel of the man's gun.

"You're not in a position to give orders." He said, his voice raspy. Keneth could see a deep scare along his neck. "Stand up."

Keneth slowly stood, keeping his pistol aimed at the man, and in turn, then man keep his rifle aimed at him.

"What happened?" The man demanded.

Keneth shrugged. "I don't know, I woke up, and every thing was like this."

The man scoffed. "Bull-shit. I saw the explosion that caused this, no one could have survived it, but you are here." He stopped, as if noticing something. "And where the hell is that kid of yours?"

It dawned on Keneth that this man must have been the one who was shooting at him the day before, and also the killer of the girl miles back on the highway.

"He's safe."

The man shook his head. "No, he's about to be alone."

Suddenly the man pulled back a but, just as Keneth heard Ben cry out. "No!"

The man looked from Keneth, to Ben, who was still behind him. The man was shaking. "What the hell is that!?"

Keneth felt he had an opening, the instant the man pointed his rifle way from him, and at the child, he could fire. His gun was still help level, and pointing at the man's head.

"That's the child." He said.

The man gave a nervous chuckle. "Bull, that's a fucking animal that you've dressed up in the kids clothing!"

The man looked back at Keneth, his gun never having moved an inch, and still pointed at Keneth. 'We're not getting out of this.' he though.

With out warning, Ben ran forward a bit, pointing up to the sky. "Look!" He cried out.

The man didn't move, but Keneth let his eyes wonder upwards. In the distance, handing in the air, was a large place of light. It was slightly brighter then the air around it, and shimmered like water, but the most disturbing thing about it, this wave of light was flooding towards them at miles a second.

Keneth barely had time to cover his eyes, as the wave forced it's way past them. He felt nothing as it went past, but heard a scream from the man.

Looking back at the man, Keneth saw that he was surrounded in the lightly glowing light. He was staring at his hands, already having dropped the rifle.

There was good reason for him to stare to, Keneth watches as the skin of the mans palms started to blacken, as his finger nails vanished into his skin. In an instant, short claws had ripped from the tips of his fingers, as well as orange fur sprouting on the backs of his hands.

The fur continued up his arms, and under the sleeves of his army jacket. That wasn't the only change, the man's ears had started to grow, and move up the sides of his head, as well as the tip of his nose turning black, and starting to push out from his face a bit.

The man was still starting and his hands, as the fur started working it's way up his neck, and over his face. His nose and mouth keep pushing out, his nostrils gaining a bit in size and forming a short muzzle. His ears had stopped on the top of his head, and were twisting around a bit.

The fur finally finished covered the man's face, and as far as Keneth assumed, his body. It was the familiar orange and black markings of a tiger, except around the end of the man's muzzle, where it was pure white. His hair hadn't changed much but was now orange and white.

Finally everything seemed to catch up to the man, and he fell to the ground. Keneth slowly bent down over him, still holding the gun. The light that had been surrounding the man quickly faded and was gone.

The man opened his eyes, starting at Keneth. Then with a gag, he twisted his head, and spat out a few bits of silver. Keneth instantly knew that it was the man's fillings.

With out saying a word, the man reached down, and pulled off his boots, then his socks. As he pulled up his pants, Keneth could see that the man's legs had changed. There where now much thinner then normal, and where set up with two knees, one pointing forwards, the other backwards. They reminded Keneth of a cats hind legs.

The man gave a final little twist, reaching around, and freeing a tail from his pants. Finally he seemed to remember Keneth and Ben. Looking up at them, he spoke. "What happened?" His voice was clear and pristine, the raspyness was gone.

"The wave came, and it changed you." Ben said.

Keneth nodded. "Now, I think I hold the advantage here." Still holding the pistol.

* * *

The man regarded Keneth with a bit of a strange look in his eyes. "An advantage for what?" He asked.

Keneth sighed a bit. "Not to be crass, but you did try to kill me and Ben here."

He smiled a bit. "Oh... of course. I wasn't exactly thinking strait. In fact, come to think of it, I haven't thought strait sense the attack." He rubbed his throat as he said this.

"The scar is gone." His voice filled with wonder, then with a slight blink he paused, then slowly spoke again. "My voice, it's right again."

Keneth cleared his throat. "Not to interrupt this little bit of self discovery, but why are you, and why are you trying to kill me?"

The man looked back up at him, giving him a bit of a smile. "My name is Nathan Young, and I wasn't in my right mind back there."

Shaking his head, Keneth sighed. "And now you are, is that it?"

Before he could reply, Ben spoke up. "He's right, until this morning I couldn't think clearly at all." He blushed a bit. "In fact, I was sort of slow. When the death came, I just shut down totally."

Keneth raised an eyebrow, the kid was articulate.

Nathan nodded. "The same thing with me, when this happened," he tapped his neck, "I sort of lost sight of things. Then with the plague..." he paused for a second, "I just cracked I guess. I can't remember more then a few vague flashes of what I've been doing."

Keneth shook his head. "Not to say I don't believe you, but I don't believe you."

He looked hurt.

Keneth continued. "The fact remains that you try to kill us, and you did kill that young women back down the road."

He looked down, and Keneth watched as the insides of his ears paled a bit. "Yes, I did."

Taking a few steps over, Keneth pick up the riffle. "In this world, murder has to be the worst crime imaginable, and for that I should kill you know."

Ben let out a little gasp. "Ken no! You can't!"

He shook his head. "I'm not kid. When we find civilization, we'll let them deal with him how ever they wish."

"Where are you heading to anyways?"

Keneth started to take his belt off, keeping the pistol aimed at Nathan. "Boulder."

He mulled this over, as Keneth pulled his belt out from the belt-loops.

"I suppose that's as good of place as any." Nathan reflected.

Nodding,, he started to move behind Keneth. "Unless we find a group before we get there, you're coming with."

He rolled his head back, following Keneth with his eyes. "Oh really, that's so nice of you. Now I suppose you want me to put my hands behind my back?"

"Oh, would you?" He replied with a sarcastic tone in his voice.

The human-tiger shrugged, and clasped his hands behind his back.

Bending down, Keneth gently set the pistol down on the trunk next to him. Then using his belt, he firmly tied the man's wrists together. Glad to be using a belt thin enough to do it with, and still strong enough to hold him, at least until he got some rope.

Picking the gun back up, he gently let the hammer fall, and placed it back into his pants pocket. Then brushing the soot off his pants, he walked back over to Ben and picked up the riffle.

"I don't suppose you can walk like that?" He asked.

Nathan glanced down at his legs. "I suppose so." Then crouching a bit, he jumped and sprung strait up about five feet. As he came back down to earth, he adjusted himself, and landed on his now much smaller feet.

"Yes, apparently so." He said, smiling and flicking his tail a bit.

Keneth rolled his eyes, he was going to have to watch for that from him. "Do you have a motorcycle?"

He nodded. "Yes actually, I do. But it's miles down the highway. I sort of ran all the way here after I saw the explosion."

Giving a glance to the cliff wall, which still had the soot outline of the cave. "Yes, wish I could have seen it. Now this is going to be a long walk, you care to lead?"

Nathan grimaced a bit. "I guess I shall." Then they set off.

* * *

It was almost full night by the time they reached Nathan's camp, but that wasn't to much of a measurement, as it was into fall, and the days where getting shorted.

Keneth was impressed that Ben had walked the whole way, and with out to many breaks. He had expected for the kid to want a rest sooner or later as his legs (which where still human-like) got tired.

In fact, it seamed the only one to really start to tire out from the walk, was Keneth himself.

The camp was set up on the top of a valley, much like the one Keneth had sat above the night before, reminiscing about the end the world.

There was the remains of a well used campfire, as well as a motorcycle that had an added bonus, A side-car, which was currently stuffed with ten different types of weapons, from large knifes to half a dozen guns.

"You're a real nut, you know that." He said to Nathan.

He grimaced in response. "Don't remind me."

Sitting down, Keneth started to see if he could get a campfire started up. He didn't get less then two seconds into it, when Ben called out, "look."

He glanced over at Ben, who was starting up at the sky in awe. Nathan was staring as well, standing almost perfectly still.

Letting his gaze follow there's, he found himself looking at the moon as it rose over the horizon. He shrugged, and started back at the campfire.

Suddenly he paused, then looked up almost above him. There was the moon, working it's way to full. He felt his face pail as he looked back at the horizon.

It wasn't the moon, it was another moon, a different one. Somehow Earth had gained a second moon...

* * *

Keneth stared at the sky, dumbfounded. He had seen many an amazing thing as he look to the sky, such as the launch of the Mars mission three years before. But this top them all. A second moon cutting it's way above the horizon.

"Oh my god." He whispered.

Nathan was similarly in awe, "how is that possible."

"It's not." Was his response.

Ben shook his head, and slowly walked over to the two adults. "I think what happened," he motioned at him and Nathan, "to us, may be part of this as well."

Keneth shook his head, sitting down with a thump. "Gods... What happened last night?!? It couldn't have caused your changes, or that wave, or that!" He pointed at the second moon.

Ben sat down next to him. "Something must have."

He nodded, and turned back to the half-built campfire, finishing it up. After a few minutes he had a good fire going. Nodding a bit, he sat back and looked at Nathan.

He was still standing where he had been before, his hands still tied behind his back, watching the second moon. His tail gently swished behind him, brushing gently over the ground.

"I don't suppose you have any food?"

He paused, then looked down at him. "Food, um... in the saddle-bag, left side."

"Ben?"

The child nodded, dashing over and digging through it. He came back with a can of stew, a pot, and a can-opener.

As Keneth prepared it, Nathan spoke up. "You know, I can't eat with my hands tied like this."

He grimaced. He didn't like the idea of untying this guy unless he had no choice and sadly, it looked like he didn't. Setting the pot down carefully, he moved behind the tiger, and undid his paws.

As he sat back down next to the fire, he pulled out his pistol, and set it carefully next to him. Then he took up the pot, and poured some of the stew out into three bowls that Ben had found as well.

"So, why Boulder?" Nathan asked.

Keneth looked up. "Well, it was the first thing I though of when I though about where to go. Of few others I've found, three had the same idea. So, that's where we're going."

Nathan nodded, licking the spoon with his largish tongue. "I would expect it would be empty by now."

This perk his interest. "Why?"

"Just because there's no snow in this area, doesn't mean it hasn't snowed else where. And considering that Boulder is right at the Rockies, when it snows, it will snow a lot, if it hasn't already. I would expect anyone there to go farther south. I'm not sure where too, New Mexico, maybe Texas?"

He nodded, setting down his bowl. "We'll see when we get there, won't we?"

"If we get there."

He shrugged. "Should take more then a week, two at the most." He brushed his hands off, and picked the belt back up.

Nathan sighed "Oh, don't waste your time with that. There's rope in the bike."

Ben immediately jumped up, and dug through the bike. Finally coming back with a bundle of rope. "You're a good kid, you know that."

Ben smiled. "Thanks."

Keneth took it, and walked over to Nathan, who had his hands claps behind his back again. Quickly he went to tying them back up again. Then, smothering the fire a bit, he curled up on the far side. "Bed down you two."

They both followed suit, as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Fire, light, a tunnel, a floor falling into a river of liquid gold

Keneth sat bolt upright, gasping in a deep breath, the dream he had been had dashing from his mind before he could comprehend it.

He sat, panting, his hand against his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart. For some reason the dream has scared him, a lot, but it wasn't a nightmare.

His breathing slowly returned back to normal, becoming steam in the crisp autumn air of the early morning. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he felt over the stubble of his beard.

He stood, stretching his arms. Both Ben and Nathan where still sound asleep, and both where still changed. He shook his head, still not knowing what to make of it all, or why had that wave which had changed Nathan didn't effect him.

Walking over to the side-car of the bike, he started to pull out all the assorted weapons, leaving them sitting in the woods. He left a few, but only the one's that he could carry, moving the ammunition to one of the side bags.

Smiling he patted the bike, it would get them to nearest town, where they could get gas, and some spare gas-tanks so they wouldn't have to fill up to often.

Sitting down in the saddle, he started up the bike. It came to life with a dull roar, and puttered a bit. He nodded, noticing it had half a tank of gas. He cut the motor off, and slumped down a bit.

"Well, it still works." Nathan said, as he worked to sit up, with his hands tied.

Keneth nodded. "Yes, it does that." He said, getting off the bike, and going through the saddle-bags.

Giving a quick adjustment to the stuff in the bags, he walked over to Ben. "The hard part is going to be getting the side-car though the slaged traffic. When we get to the next town, I may have to get two bikes. And tie your hands to the handle bar."

He nodded, giving a low grumble. "Not the best way to drive it, but I suppose."

Keneth didn't response, but just shook Ben a bit. The juvenile raccoon child, flickered and opened his eyes. Slowly his eyes crossed a bit, then he smiled. "Good, it wasn't a dream."

He nodded, then walked back over to the bike. "Bathroom run everyone, then we get back on the road."

He sat on the side on the bike, as the other two wondered a bit into the woods. Keneth was surprised that Nathan didn't need his hands free to undo his pants.

Shaking his head, he sent such thoughts off into the dark rescues of his mind. He wasn't in the mood for it. Getting back onto the bike, he started it back up again. He let it idle for a few minutes until both Nathan and Ben got back.

Letting Ben grasp onto his hips, he winched as he felt claws dig into his side. "Ben..." he warned.

The child flushed a bit, and his claws retracted. Giving a glance to Nathan, who was sitting in the side-cat, he turned the bike, and started back down to the road, and onto the future.

They had a long way to go, and things weren't going to wait.

This story is (c) 1998 by Fox Cutter, hardcopy reprints limited to one a person, all other rights reserved. This story may not be distributed for a fee except by permission of the author, and this copyright notice may not be removed.

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