Sord in Prosperity - Hope Beyond the Apocalypse

EP. 124 - RACNINES

THE TWO STARTED THEIR return back to Durango traveling backwards, very slowly at first, then faster as they got in sync. After twenty minutes, Robbie began wondering about the unfamiliar terrain. He wasn't accustomed to watching it move away from him.

"Uh, you know what?" Robbie observed. "I don't recognize where we are right now. I don't remember this ravine, anyway. Do you know where we are? And worse yet, it's getting dark down here."

"I don't fucking know what year it is, Robbie. You got my mind going back to that girl from Hesperus. Daisy. Veronica. Whatever. Like, I can't stop thinking about her. Maybe that's what happens to people when they're close to death."

"Hey, worthless shithead! You're not close to death. What does your meter say about your oxy levels? Thank God those weren't damaged in the accident, or we'd be sharing tanks to boot."

Sord peered down at the small patch on the left shoulder of his suit. "Shows I'm green. Solid green."

"Me too," he replied. "At least something's working right."

Robbie backed off the accelerator to survey the situation. The walls on either side of the ravine were twenty feet high. It was an old riverbed that had seen no rain for months, and the loose rock and sand were hard to slog through despite the moto's wide tires.

"Hate to admit. I need to turn us around and retrace a little."

"Wait!" Sord cautioned. "Damn. Racnines dead ahead. Looks like a shitload."

Robbie turned backward, bracing his arms against the seat.

"What the fuck?" he screamed. Immediately, he began scanning the walls of the ravine for any type of protection. "There must be a dozen of them; a full fucking pack! This moto in reverse will never outrun those bastards."

Racnines were hybridized in the 2030s, an outgrowth of numerous animal hybridizations that began in the decade. Although authorities never traced the creators of the breed, the mix of mostly raccoon DNA with certain canine traits created an inquisitive, intelligent, and ferocious predator. Combining the olfactory senses and pack mentality of canines with the front paw dexterity of raccoons allowed these hybrids to spread quickly. Starting in the Northeastern part of the continent, racnines eventually became a ubiquitous and predominant nuisance species across all continents.

Due to their cunning nature and ability to adapt readily to the ever-evolving ecological changes, racnines not only survived GDII, they thrived as the lone remaining alpha predator in North America. Larger alphas were wiped out entirely as their habitats were largely destroyed from the effects of the cellular decoupler and similar annihilation tech unleashed in the brief, deadly war.

"We need to get to that spot," Robbie yelled, pointing upward to his right.

The racnines were closing in on them, carefully spreading out to limit their escape routes. The lead dog was pacing toward them, but the pack had not yet burst into a full run.

Sliding off the seat, Robbie grabbed under Sord's left shoulder.

"We have ten seconds to get to that crevice in the rock."

Robbie was half-carrying Sord forward. As they reached the crevice, the lead dog clamped his jaw solidly onto Robbie's boot.

"Get the hell in there!" he screamed at Sord, heaving him into the crevice.

The lead racnine was the largest, around seventy pounds. It held tightly onto Robbie's boot, shaking its head back and forth as canines instinctually do to tear at the tissues and rapidly inflict considerable damage. He knew he needed to shed it quickly and wedge himself into the crevice or risk being torn to shreds by the pack.