Canid Undead: A Dog's Story

30 - Antidote

A dog, a black-furred Labrador, gazes out at his owner from the entrance of his owner's trailer.

He had a bag held at his side, his white lab coat sticking out from the side. He was being walked to Fellinground's border by an acquaintance of his.

The dog sees his owner's assistant on the ground. The dog, Gunner, leaps to below, where this human stood. The human spoke to him, knowing that Gunner was trained just well enough to comprehend the human's orders, or, at least, most of the orders.

"Come back tonight," he emphasized, his words choppy. Gunner understood that this human will have a perfected antidote in the bunker later tonight or, by the least, very very early in the morning. So early that it'd still be a bit dark out. "Go, now."

Gunner licked the human's face briskly when he'd knelt down to talk to the dog.

Gunner runs after his owner, following him to the edge of the border.

After hours of searching for shelter, we found a small building in the distance as the day grew to night. The sun was seen peeking just slightly from behind some hills and between some trees.

Once we'd went inside, my owner sat against a wall weakly, pulling out his journal. He wrote in it quite quickly, then sighing once he'd closed it, setting his pen down. I curl up on his lap, sad. Just a day ago he'd been bitten. He concealed it from everyone but his human-friend and I. I'm guessing this is why he risked it to get kicked out from our home, which of course happened. I was welcome to come back, though.

When he stole the antidote, Fellinground discovered what he'd done. He ordered him to leave the next day. They let him keep it, saying "it probably wouldn't work anyway".

My owner came here, and he is going to die here.

Once he'd drifted off into an eternal rest, I took the antidote that sat tied around his neck. I leave, cautious of rotters, in the dark cover of the night. By time I left, it was midnight. While out, I visited the zoo to check with the pack. I left after two hours, hunting food for a few more. It is now an hour before daylight is to break.

I arrive at Fellinground's camp, my paw-pads slightly sore from the journey.

While peeking from behind a tree, he sees that the assistant is dead, along with a guard. They're piled on top of each other. Three men stood there, the putrid scent of Regals clinging to their bodies. They set a walkie talkie on the corpses before leaving.

The dog speedily digs a hole by this tree, burying the antidote, his hind legs kicking up the dirt.

Gunner waits patiently for a moment; his eyes had revealed that Fellinground was starting to awake. Then, he leaves, going towards the zoo, where his pack-mates reside.