Fire: The Ashen Horizon

This is for everyone. To all the souls who poured countless prayers and tears to keep me here, I dedicate this with all my love to you.

1

“Rage…, rage…, channel it…, feel it…, anger…” A deep exhale disrupts the flapping darkness of smoke. “Rage…, Dawson…, rage. Ra-”

Boom! Boom! Boom!
Fwomph!

“Damn it…, who is it?” Dawson listened intently for a response. Leaving his ears facing the door, he turned his attention to the ashes that ran between his fingers. He let out a sigh as the door received three more thunderous knocks, flicking the remains off and wiping his paws on his shirt while getting up to approach the door.

“Yes? ”

Silence.

“Hmmm…,” the fox’s mind buzzed with ideas on who was behind the door. No reply meant either a stranger or someone of importance. Peering through the peephole, he raised a brow at seeing the colors of an officer’s uniform standing outside, vaguely staring through the tungsten door. Without a moment to spare after opening it, the officer spoke,

“No formalities. Dawson, I need you to cover down on guard at gate 33. Alex has an emergency going on with his kit. ”

“You could have sent me a message. I burnt another journal. ”

“Surprised you? You’ll have tomorrow off, just a night shift.” Dawson smiled at the news.

“Tomorrow off, holiday weekend. What’s the occasion for this blessing? ”

“It's because I need you to accompany me on Saturday. Enjoy Friday for yourself. Go to a bar or someplace interesting. Treat yourself. ”

“Hm, a bar? I don’t really enjoy spending time with strangers, how about some company?” The officer momentarily dropped his bearings to slightly lift his lips into a small smile before returning to his emotionless gaze.

“No bar for me. I'm gonna be taking care of business and need to remain sober.” Dawson furrowed his brow and tilted his head slightly forward, curious.

“What’s going on this Saturday?” The officer exhaled through his nose and leaned against the doorway. Dawson lifted a brow, “Will I be dealing with sir or Kilo? ”

“I need some time to figure it out myself before I can explain. When I do, you'll be the first person I go to. " Dawson nods and clenches his jaw whilst placing a tight grip on Kilo’s shoulder,

“I’m here for you if you need to talk. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be by the gate.” Kilo lowers his head before turning to walk away without another word. Dawson watches his friend walk away with an unusually slumped posture. Once he turns the corner, he closes the door and walks to the mirror in his room. The fox lets out a small growl while gripping the edges of the sink and staring at his reflection.

Just Make It Through The Night…

He slips off his shirt and begins to poke at his muscled torso, watching the fur bend under his claw and watching the muscles drop with a slight jiggle when he lifts them to feel their tension. He drops his sweatpants and socks in one motion before proceeding to stand over his uniform. Tonight was supposed to be a night of laying in the warmth of weighted covers, staring at the roof, and enjoying the emptiness of staring into space. Work was a disturbance in a life of peace. Still, duty called. He quickly threw on his undershirt and jumped into his bottoms, kicked into his boots, and lazily fastened them, tightening the belt after tucking in his undershirt and walking out of his room while adjusting his top. Summer nights thankfully aren’t cold, when he checked the weather this morning he noted clear skies and gentle winds. All he was focused on was making it through the night. Losing himself in thought, he sped through the monotonous eggshell walls concaving into faded orange doorways, down the steps aged with mud from the boots of countless pawns who signed their life away and out the door to the outside, walking over the muddy path that sliced through the plot of grass from the endless steps stomping out the life of vegetation in a long line until the gravel road. His barracks were situated to where it was only a fifteen minute walk in any direction to find a gate. Experience let him know that walking southwest from the barracks then following the dirt path, past the dining facility and approaching the high walls of the compound without any lights was gate 33. Folks always commented on his ability to change from civilians to uniform very fast and he walked quickly everywhere he went. He could be on guard within eight minutes but that’s not what ate up the time for him. When he reached the oak tree overlooking Wilson Field, he leaned his head on the tree and squinted to focus on the memory of his recently passed friends. The night they ingested hallucinogenic drugs and copious amounts of liquor and finally felt free of misery. Together they sat here, talking about the darkness of the cosmic horizon undercutting the shimmers of light they would count on those lonely, cold nights on guard. Dawson grits his teeth and backs away from the tree before collapsing onto the ground and holding his head between his legs. The repeatedly singed patch of dirt beneath him was just a reminder of how poorly he can move on from the past. The blackened grass surrounding him reminded him of the poison that was his existence. He glared above, misty eyed, praying to the creator he didn’t believe him to give him the mercy of entry into the infinity of the dark silence above instead of the chaotic noise of life. By the time he snapped out of his mind, he had been blankly staring at his boots. Weathered by mud and seemingly made of scuff lines, it took a jarring snap into reality for Dawson to remember that duty called. He looks to the stars once more, imagines the presence of bygone loved ones cheering him on, and wills himself up to keep moving forward.

Just Make It Through The Night…



Just Make It Through The Night…








Just Make It Through The- The fox follows his ears into an alert position. He could make out a female voice that he did not recognize. The cracks in the voice and intensity of the intelligible language led him to assume this wasn’t someone who was trained to handle stress. He enters a slight jog, his eyes adjusting to the dark to make out the figure of an ally. Now visible, it turned out to be Wilson who had been staring at the monitors of the cameras that kept an eye on the entrance of the gate.

“The Hell is going on?” He yelled out to the hare, one ear tilting towards Dawson but his gaze fixed upon the monitor.

“Just some journalists. System doesn’t recognize them as threats. ”

“Then why don’t you get rid of them?” Wilson shook his hand and stuffed his paws into his pockets before turning to face the fox.

“I got a reputation to uphold. If I get rid of one they all have to go.” Dawson frowned at Wilson before staring at the monitor. Two unidentifiable animals holding cameras with a female husky yelling into her microphone.

“What is she on about?” Dawson asks while walking towards a doorway within the gate.

“The killing of the previous journalists. The People’s Awakening Periodical or some nonsense like that.” Dawson poorly conceals a smile before turning his attention towards the hare who remained in the cubicle. Wilson shook his head, “I can see it in your eyes, don’t-”

“Open the gate, Wilson. ”

“We can't afford another controversy. ”

“Open the gate.” Wilson shook his head before lowering the lever and allowing for a doorway within the gate to be opened. Dawson inhaled sharply through his nose before stepping through to the other side where the husky and two other similar-looking breeds of dogs holding cameras rushed towards the fox.

“Finally! What do you have to say about the unconstitutional killing and repression of our liberties in journalism? Do you think you can continuously get away with-” Dawson grabs onto the microphone and applies enough heat to melt it. The reporter yelps as she lets it go and fans her paw from the heat. Dawson grips her by the collar and burns it, singing the well kept fur on her neck as she falls back screaming.

“Trespassing on government property is punishable by death. If our system detected a threat from you three this wouldn’t be a warning. You and your cronies will leave and if you publish any video of this I will find you and then you will learn what an unconstitutional killing really looks like. ”

A border collie haphazardly approaches, stuffing the camera into Dawson's face.

“I won’t be intimidated by your threats! I expose the truth! Do you know who I am?” Dawson tilts his head and exhales frustratingly before engulfing both himself and the reporter in a blinding, blue flame. The scent of burning hair, flesh, and alloy fills the air as the collie drops and rolls on the ground. As the Boston terrier holding the other camera let out a yelp, Wilson grabbed onto his windpipe and slashed it. The husky screams and backs away from Wilson as she couldn’t avoid watching her colleague bleed out.

“I will slash your eyes so the last sight you’ll ever see is the sight of your friend dying. Maybe then you idiots will learn a lesson in staying away from us.” The reporter scrambled onto her feet before running away. Without warning, she felt the blast furnace heat sink past her eyelids and burn a blinding light into her decimated vision. As she rolls around on the ground, screaming, Dawson steps on her neck to silence her,

“My friend here is generous because he wanted to let you go. I’m not generous like him. You have until sunrise to feel your way five hundred meters from this compound or I will incinerate you starting from non-fatal areas. You better get crawling because you will have a very paranoid end if you don’t make it.” He let her go with a kick as she began to stumble over the slightest inclination. Sobbing only with her voice as her tear ducts were annihilated.

Dawson shook his head before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a deck of cards.

“You want to play spades?” The hare wipes his fingers on a rag before nodding.

“Of course, my friend. ”