Parallels

Chapter Fifteen: Are You, Are You? (Coming To The Tree?)

Damn it, how is such an asshole of a mammal my father?

"Oh, no, it's a lucky lady," I say, trying to keep his attention as long as possible, because I can see out of the corner of my eyes that everyone's trying to sneak away, and I can't fault them, if it wouldn't get me killed, I'd be doing the exact same thing, but no, it'd get me killed if I tried to run away right now, so yeah, I'm staying where I am and giving them the chance. Maybe they'll be able to distract him eventually, and then we'll all be able to get away... yeah, no, that'll never happen...

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," I hear him say, but I'm not really paying attention, because I'm more interested in whether or not my friends and family get the flock out of here alive. "You know, father, one of my best friends is gay, so.... What the fuck's your problem?"

"Oh, I've got plenty of problems, Theodore," he says, snarling at me, and I try not to wince or yelp in shock, "and you're definitely starting to prove to me that you're going to be one of them. Why can't you just accept that things are the way they are and just get the fucking hell out of my way? Why can't you be a good boy and just sit and roll over like the dog you are? That's right, I'll bet you didn't even think about that, did you? They've got you all trained and ready to fight, and they give you rewards if you do well, and I see you even wear a little silver collar there. Well, Theodore, news flash, you've been a bad boy! Now, here's your list of options: behave like a good little foxy, and get the fuck out of my way, and then I might- I might think about sparing the lives of all those you hold dear, or option number two, which is the option I'm leaning towards right now, if you want to know what's on my mind, and that option's just that I shoot the hell out of all of you right now, so how's that sound?"

"Just take me," I say, putting my hands behind my head and kneeling down on the ground, hating how the cold dampness of the ground and the water from the still-cold morning dew seeps through the knees of my uniform, and I can't help but to feel completely weird, especially considering that I'm not wearing my uniform top.

"That's the smart choice," he says, coming over to stand in front of me. "I always knew you were smart, Theo, it's why I helped you get approved for the Venturing Program, they never would've taken a fox otherwise. Too damn shifty, too freaking untrustworthy, they said, we can't ever trust a fox. As if they didn't realize that I was a fox, and I was the one paying them off to let you into that program.

"Damn, mammals are idiots sometimes," he says, squatting right in front of me, and I can smell smoke on his breath, Camel cigars, just like Mister Marlboro. Of fucking course...

"You're certainly a great example," he says, gloating in my face, pressing the barrel of his gun into my shoulder, and this time, I don't have to fight back a yelp, I'm used to that abuse.

"You're right, father," I say, smiling, hoping that all of my teeth are on display, sharp and white, a stark contrast to the brown and blackness that are my father's teeth, rotten just like the freaking rest of him.

"Well, my son," he says, words that send chills right through my core, ""I'm glad to see that you and I can finally see eye to eye about something." Then he pauses, realizing something. "Wait, what exactly are we seeing eye to eye about again?"

"The fact that you're an idiot who's easily distracted," I say, raking him across the face with my claws, and of course, because they're dull, they don't shred his eye out like I would have wanted to, but the pain serves its intended purpose, to distract him and get his attention mostly off of me so that I can throw him to the ground, and thank God that works. Now just to see how long it takes me to strangle him to death....

Before I get that opportunity, though, he bucks me off, throwing me to the side, and I hit the dirt, groaning as my shoulder rams first.

I try to roll over, but even with years and years and years of experience in paw-to-paw combat, the bastard's still faster, and now he has his knee in my back, and I can see out of the corner of my eye that I'm giving everyone the distraction that they all need to get out of my psychopath of a father's gun's shooting range.