Empty Scars

Chapter One

  The girl was just standing there, looking out over the river from the railing of the bridge. She might have looked serene and graceful if she wasn't standing next to a busy intersection clouded in exhaust gazing into a river of muck. "Dude, Let's just go! She's not doing anything."
Mark, a fox with plain foxlike markings and a tall, athletic build, and his best friend, Michael, a red panda with a startlingly long tail, and ironically short stature sat on a flight of stone stairs overlooking the intersection. They had been sitting there for the better part of an hour, watching the strange girl stand in the acrid, foul smelling fumes. "That's exactly what I'm saying, Mitch, she's not doing anything! I've seen heavy smokers run through that intersection because they don't want to breathe the fumes, and she's been there for forty-five minutes!"
"I know, she's crazy. C'mon, it's getting dark, my mom is gonna be pissed if I stay out any later!"
Mark stood and pulled Michael with him. "We have to go see if she's alright."
Without waiting for a response, he pulled Michael down the hill and through the slow moving traffic to the noisy and polluted bridge. Michael coughed and gagged. "Shit... It's really bad today!"
Mark rolled his eyes and approached the girl. From up close, it was clear she was an arctic fox, short and totally still. She was clutching her paws together tightly, and was wearing unusually warm clothing for the summertime, even in the evening: a long sleeve sweater and jeans. Mark tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around. "Excuse me... Uh..."
He lost his voice when he saw her face. He didn't mean to, and no one could blame him (though, they probably would). Along her otherwise plain face ran a long, wide scar; although obscured by her fur, it still appeared as though someone had used the smear tool on her face. The scar ended where her left ear began, however it was clear the ear was a prosthetic one. As soon as Mark's voice failed him, she looked down in embarrassment, but didn't speak. Michael broke the silence. "Hey, you know it's unhealthy to stand here for long."
The girl glanced at Michael and smiled. Her voice was raspy, for obvious reasons. "The river, you don't get to see it like this unless you stand here..." She coughed.
Both of them looked over the railing at the river. It wasn't especially different, the muddy water flowed as it always would down towards the ocean. Mark tried his voice again, and this time it worked. "You've been here for a while; you're going to damage your lungs if you stay here any longer..."
He trailed off. The girl's focus had inexplicably shifted to his muzzle, and she was now staring at it intently. Michael looked from the girl to Mark in confusion, Mark stuttering as he spoke again. "Uh... I-is there something on my face?"
Despite how absurd it was for him to be asking her that question, she shrugged and walked off the bridge towards the downtown area. Mark and Michael exchanged glances and followed her. Michael nudged Mark and whispered in his ear. "Dude, she's really sketchy. Did you see...?"
"Yes I saw. And now she's jumped from the cooking pot into the fire."
Michael nodded. St. Johns wasn't the friendliest of cities, especially at night. A thin, frail looking girl out wandering the streets at night might seem a tempting target for would be muggers. Or worse. Mark sped up and matched the girl's pace. "Hey, do you live around here? You should probably get home as soon as you can."
She stopped dead, Mark stopped a step later, and Michael almost slammed into her back. "Why?"
"You know... The unsavory people who come out at night."
She continued walking. "I don't know them, I just moved here a week ago."
Mark once again matched her pace, thoroughly intrigued at this point. "Just moved here, huh? Where from?"
Michael tugged on Mark's shirt like a small child might when he wanted to leave the grocery store. Mark just shot him a dirty look. "I moved from some place in the UK..."
"Well, that explains the accent."
"Or lack thereof." Michael said with a smirk.
The girl turned a corner, heading for an apartment complex. "It's hard to understand people around here. They speak like lightning. You guys talk normal enough though."
Michael grinned. "Yes, b'y! Lo here me love, we townies can talk like yous up in Queen-ville!"
He laughed, and Mark punched him on the arm. The girl turned around and gave Michael a disapproving look. "I don't understand you."
Michael stopped laughing at the strange reaction he got. His joke defused, he tapped Mark on the shoulder and shrugged. "I gotta run man, see ya."
"Yeah, peace."
Michael ran off down the street and across a lawn. Mark continued to walk with the strange girl, trying not to stare at the obvious scar on her face. Instead he looked at her paws, only to find more scars, this time on her wrist. The scars, although obscured slightly by her long sleeve sweater, looked like burns, due to the fact that the fur wasn't growing back properly, and differed in that respect with the scar on her face. "Staring is rude you know."
Mark jumped six feet into the air. "Oh, god I'm sorry! They're just... I mean... fuck..."
She just continued walking until she stopped in front of what Mark assumed to be her apartment building. She began staring at his muzzle again. Something about the hungry look in her eyes was very offputting, and he broke the silence. "So... I never caught your name...?"
She was really staring at his muzzle now, and stepping closer as she did. "Um... I'm sorry, but- Mmff!"
She suddenly grabbed his face in a vice like grip and jammed her tongue into his mouth. It was less of a kiss, and more of an oral exam. Mark didn't hesitate for long, and he shoved her off of him with maybe a little too much force. "... What the hell was that?!"
She stumbled to the ground, but didn't seem too fazed. "Ow... Leanna."
"What?!"
"You asked my name. It's Leanna."
Mark stood with mouth agape; completely taken off guard by her perplexing response. "... wh... No, why did you kiss me?"
She tilted her head and looked at him like the answer was obvious. "... Because I wanted to see what the inside of your mouth tasted like...?"
At this point Mark had to pinch himself to be sure he wasn't having a very vivid dream. "Oh... My name's Mark, by the way."
She stood, dusted herself off, nodded to him and walked inside her apartment. Mark stood outside for ten minutes after she left, trying to figure out what just happened. He decided it was better to not bother trying, and headed home.
~~~
Mark opened the door to his apartment, and plopped onto the couch next to his roommate, Dan, a raccoon. "Dude, you will not believe what just happened to me."
Dan was concentrating on the television, and he nodded absent mindedly. "Yeah?"
Mark looked at the TV to see what had Dan so enwrapped. "... You're watching "So You Think You Can Dance?" That's... wow, he's really good."
They watched as a black panther preformed an impossible looking breakdance. "Yeah, they came back with another season."
They watched intently for a few minutes, then Mark shook his head and turned back to Dan. "Anyway, do you know anybody named Leanna?"
He shook his head. "Well, me and Mitch were walking home when we spotted this chick just standing..."
Mark told the entire story, Dan nodding along to it while he watched the dancing on screen. Once Mark finished, Dan sat for a minute, then jumped and looked over at Mark in surprise. "Wait, she did what?! You're shitting me."
"No! I'm not! I tell you, people are getting more and more strange as time goes on."
"Yeah... Was she a good kisser?"
Mark shrugged. "No, to be honest, and she's not really my type either, before you ask."
Dan punched him playfully. "Aw, come on! You're too picky!"
"I'm not picky, I just think she was drunk... though I didn't taste any alcohol, just exhaust fumes."
"Whatever... She could have been a crackhead."
"I don't think that's the case... Hey, where's Lance? Wasn't he supposed to be..." He trailed off.
When Mark mentioned Lance, Dan frowned and closed his eyes, sighing. "...We broke up."
Mark patted Dan on the back. "Aww, I liked him."
Dan's lower lip quivered for a second, then buried his face in Mark's shoulder and started blubbering uncontrollably. "He was the one, Mark! He was the one..."
Dan continued to sob, Mark awkwardly hugging him back. "There, there. I'm sure... uh... things will work out."
He sniffed and looked up at Mark. "You think so?"
"Yeah..."
Dan assumed the fetal position and continued to watch TV, still clinging to Mark's arm for emotional and regular support. "Thanks, Mark."
The events of earlier all but forgotten, the two watched TV long into the night, until Dan fell asleep, and Mark slipped to his bed.
~~~
Michael opened the front door to his mother's house very slowly, being sure not to make a sound. He stepped in, closed the door and tiptoed slowly across the floor, heading for the stairs, which lay between the front door and the kitchen. A creak from the floor made him cringe, and his mother poked her head around the corner, a frown on her face. "Trying to sneak home? You know you wouldn't have to have a curfew if you found a summer job and moved out like your friend Mark. Take out the garbage before you go up to your room."
He sighed. "Yes, mom."
"Don't take that tone with me!"
Michael grabbed the garbage bag from the kitchen and tossed it out the door into the outdoor can and ran up to his room. He flopped into bed and pulled out his phone. Maybe she was right? Some extra money and his own place might be nice. He shrugged to himself and flipped through his text messages. That would take too much work...

~~~

The door creaked slightly, and Robert looked up from his cooking. "Sis? Where have you been?"
Leanna's mood had shifted radically during the walk up the stairs, and she sat at the small kitchen table with a downcast face. Robert walked over and sat across from her, wary of her mood. "So, what did you get up to today?"
She mumbled something he couldn't pick out. "Hey, speak up."
"I said: I made a new friend."
Robert smiled wide. "Hey, that's great news, sis! Who were they?"
She fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth and sniffed the air. "His name is Mark, and the inside of his mouth does not taste like orange Popsicle... Is that beef and barley stew?"
Robert nodded, making a note to apologize to Mark if he wasn't scared off already. "Yep. It'll be ready in a few minutes."
He stood, patted her on the head and went back over to the stove. Robert was a bodybuilder, obsessed with working out and eating right, he was huge. But since his younger sister moved in with him, he hadn't been able to indulge himself lately. It was stressing him out, but he was the only one who could take care of her at this point. He whistled as he stirred the stew, then he snapped his finger. "Oh, don't forget to-"
"Take my meds, yeah. I just did."
He looked over and chuckled, seeing her putting the bottle away as he did. "So you did. Is this Mark guy nice? How'd you meet him?"
"I was watching the mud river. He rescued me from respiratory irritation. Him and his weird friend."
"I told you it was bad down there. You should invite him out for chips sometime, the three of us." 'I need to warn him.' He added, in his head. "Did you get his number?"
She shook her head, unaware Robert couldn't see her since he was bent over the stew, tasting it. "Well?"
"I said no."
"Too bad. Be sure to ask next time you see him."
He ladled a couple bowls of soup and passed one to Leanna, sitting down with the other. Leanna didn't have any friends, aside from Robert, who was glad a change in scenery helped her social skills. They paused their conversation and began shoveling food into their mouths. As soon as Leanna finished her meal she excused herself silently and disappeared into her room. Robert sighed and leaned back, jumping as his phone buzzed. "Hello? ... Hello Ramirez. ... Yes, she's taking her meds... No, she still a little distant and closed off, but I think the change of scenery is really helping, since- ... Yes, as a matter of fact. ... Thank you, doctor. You've been an inexpressible amount of help to us... Cheers!"
He hung up and went about tidying up the apartment. Leanna leaned off her door from the position she was in to eavesdrop on the phone call, walking across her newly decorated room. Although she was already old enough and certainly smart enough to start post-secondary school, she didn't bother even looking at any of the programs offered to her, and she still kept stuffed animals. She stared at her bed for a while, before crossing the room again and turning off the light. She pulled off all her clothes and climbed into bed, grabbing a stuffed elephant and hugging it tightly, feeling its soft plush fur on her exposed, burn riddled skin.
~~~
Mark snorted as he came awake abruptly, his phone's alarm going off even though he didn't have work until six pm. "Fuckin... phone..."
He pulled himself up and dragged his carcass over to the shower, washing away his tiredness, griminess, and morning wood in one cold shower. Feeling refreshed, he stepped out of the shower, clothed and walked into the living room, where Dan was still slumbering. Resisting the urge to place his paw in a warm bowl of water, he stepped out the door and started walking. "You can't get a body like this from sleeping in." He said to himself, speeding up to a jog.
After five minutes, he felt unusually tired, then realized he never ate breakfast that morning. He stopped to catch his breath, looking around at the options he had, sighing. Tim Horton's was the only thing to sate his hunger, so he walked in and joined the que line. He glanced around at the other early risers, mostly young people chewing on breakfast sandwiches and drinking coffee. He recognized a stoat sitting with a peach drink in the corner of the shop. It was Lance. It was his turn, and he looked up at the choices he had. "Hmm... I'll have- oh."
Suddenly the events of the day before came back to him, and he had to stop mid-sentence to regain his concentration. "Sir?"
"Um, sausage breakfast bagel, nothing to drink."
He paid the clerk, walked over to the pickup table and grabbed his sandwich, fresh out of the oven. He threw the sandwich at Lance, who caught it despite being totally surprised. "Whoa! Mark... Hi."
"Dan is passed out on my couch in the fetal position after binge watching TV and sobbing onto my shoulder."
Lance was your average mustelid, thin and tall, with small round ears. His fur was brown and spotted, and he wore a Metallica t-shirt. "I don't have to explain myself, I have my reasons."
"He's really beat up. He loves you more than "So You Think You Can Dance"."
Lance threw the sandwich onto the table and pointed at Mark. "Yeah? Well... I..."
He buried his head in his paws. "I don't know!"
"You should just talk to him... hey..."
Mark craned his neck to look out the window, trying to catch another glimpse of what he thought he saw. "I know I should but... What are you looking at?"
"Uh... nothing. You just talk to him, I gotta go."
He grabbed the sandwich and ran out the door. Lance sipped his drink. "Ass."
Mark ran out into the street, taking a bite of his food and glancing around wildly. He could have sworn... There she was. "Hey! Uh... Leanne!"
She was walking slowly down the sidewalk, but she did not turn around. He ran up and tapped her shoulder, not even sure why he was seeking further interactions with this individual. "Hey, why didn't you respond?"
She looked at him coldly. She was different somehow. "My name's not Leanne. It's Leanna."
"Oh, sorry. Fancy seeing you here, huh."
She narrowed her eyes and looked him in the eye. Her icy blue eyes were disturbing for some strange reason, and as she fixed him with them, he didn't notice her pull out a phone. "I was told to get your number, for chips."
"Um... Sure, here..."
He typed his number into the phone and she dropped it into her pocket. "Good day."
She continued to walk. Mark followed her. "What's this about-"
"Please don't follow me."
He stopped in his tracks, but Leanna didn't. "Alright..."
He continued walking, matching her pace. "I told you not to follow me."
"I was going this way anyway." He said, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"... Sorry."
"For what?"
She kicked a stone that was laying on the ground. "For kissing you. Your face looks a lot like a Popsicle, I had to see if it tasted like one."
Mark laughed out loud. "Oh really? No one's ever made that comment before."
She quickened her pace. "There, I apologized, now you can stop following me?"
Mark decided that it was probably a good idea not to continue following Leanna, she looked preoccupied with something. Maybe preoccupied was an understatement. "Ok... See you around."
She stopped. "I might call you." She whispered before darting up an alleyway.
Mark didn't hear her last remark, but he saw her run up the alley. He shrugged and continued his jog. "Heh, her accent is adorable."
~~~
Six pm sharp, Mark strolled into Henry's Bar and waved to the woman behind the counter. "Hey, Jill."
The tigress smiled and waved back, doing her best Tommy Wausau impression. "Oh, hai Mark. Six already?"
He moved behind the bar and slapped her on the arm playfully. "Don't make me 'Jill sandwich' you. Get going, your shift is over."
She threw down the rag she was using to wipe down the bar and stretched. "Ahhh~ well, you can finish cleaning, then. Oh! Guess who was in here earlier?"
Mark sensed the power of fangirl flowing through Jill, and prepared himself for the flood that was inevitable. "It was Sherman Downey, wasn't it?"
She bounced up and down as Mark started cleaning the bar, no costumers in sight, yet. "How did you know?! Oh, God, Sherman is soooo cute! He bought a martini, and I almost dropped the mixing thingy because he kept looking at me!"
"It was probably because you were staring at him."
"Shut up he was totally into me!"
"Jill, get going before someone decides to buy a drink. You're kinda... loud."
Jill gave Mark a quick hug from behind and walked towards the back exit. "Fine~ But I'm going to tell you all about it over lunch tomorrow!"
Mark chuckled and grabbed his apron, which was emblazoned with the bar's logo: an old model Henry carbine. A scruffy looking bear walked up to the bar and plopped himself down. Mark poured a double scotch and placed it in front of him. "Here ya go, George."
"Thanks, kid." He drained half the glass and didn't flinch.
"Say, young fella, how's it that you knows all about makin' alcohol? You don't look old enough te drink even!"
Mark grinned. "Your memory must be pretty bad, I told you the first time I started working here!"
George took another swig and nodded. "Yes, b'y. Yous the one that... How'd ye put it? "Huge drink nerd"?"
"Yep, that describes me perfectly."
Suddenly, his phone rang. "Oh, shoot. George, cover for me."
George raised his glass. "I gotcha."
Mark stepped into the storeroom, making sure to keep an eye out for Henry himself, who sometimes came down from the upstairs apartment to get a drink. "Hello?"
"Hello? Is this Mark?"
It was a voice he recognized immediately, from the accent. "Oh, hey Leanna."
"Um... Robert and I are going out for chips tomorrow... You want to come?"
Mark frowned. "Chips...? Alright. When?"
"Lunchtime, at that weird whatchamacallit place... It has Indian food too, I think."
"Yah, I know it... Oh, damn it! I just remembered I already have lunch plans-"
"It's alright, just bring them along."
"But-"
She had already hung up. "Well, I guess Jill is going to meet Leanna..." Mark muttered to himself.
George caught Mark's eye and yelled out across the bar. "Hey! Henry! Whater ye at, b'y?"
Mark quickly hurried out from the storeroom, grabbing a bottle of vermouth as he did. "Henry, what will you have?"
Henry looked like the kind of person who would carry around a Henry carbine if it wasn't illegal. He was a bear, like George, but he was much bigger. Henry eyed Mark suspiciously as he placed the vermouth under the bar. He grinned. "I want to test you. Make me de fanciest drink ye can!"
Mark leaned over the bar and grinned back. "You asked for it."