Chapter 5 - Charlie Wildstar

Markem MacCooper
Chapter 5 Charlie Wildstar
 
After 3 hours, the acting sentry begins to doze until sleep at long last takes hold of the weary youth. He awakens, many hours later. 'Tis night, now, he looks at his watch tiredly, which says 11:55 p.m. He fumbles about the room for the light switch. When it’s found, he flips it, but nothing happens. He tries again and again, but still nothing. “It doesn’t work, buddy. Nev’a has.” Says a gruff, American voice from the old blue armchair. The raccoon whirls around and is greeted by a dog as large as himself. “Hi, Charlie Wildstar, what are you bunch doing in my apartment?” Charlie stands abruptly, walks up, and stares Marks square in the eyes. He stares back at the strange dog’s piercing brown eyes. “I’m Markem MacCooper. We're just hiding out here for a bit. Relax, lad, we’ll be gone by the ’marrow.” The coon responds. Lyra stirs and sits up and yawns "…Hey guys, keep it down. Us normal beasts are trying to sleep.” She stretches and thumps back to the pillow, starts snoring softly, and wraps the big cloak around herself tightly. “Whatever, young’n. Yo, Markem, ya best go back to bed. I’ll keep a weary eye out till ya wake.” Wildstar gives a toothy grin. I don’t trust this dog yet I’m staying awake & alert. He thinks to himself. “Nay lad. 'Tis ok, I’m good.” “Suit yourself, dude, want a soda?” Charlie points at the rust-brown fridge in the small, dirty kitchen with dishes piled high, the trashcan spilling it contents onto the filthy linoleum tiled floor.“Sure. Uh.. No offence, lad, but how can you live in such a den of filth?” Marks says, picking up a rotting banana peel and depositing it at the apex of trash heap. The dog tosses the teen coon a can of Whirlpool who opens it with his teeth. Charlie does the same with his can of Spitfire. “None taken, amigo. I happen to be an Interpol informant, so I’ve been away for quite a while. No time for cleaning, what with all the catching of crooks and such.” He takes a big gulp and smashes the can over his broad tan head. “Doesn’t that hurt?” “Not at all, been doin' it for years, hasn't bothered me yet. I gots a question for ya. What brings ya here? You running from the cops or somtin'?” “Actually, yea. I stole from an embezzling business hare and the jack-a-rap called the bobbies on me.” "So you’re a noble thief then?” “Yep, 'Tis better to steal from criminals then normal folk.” “Whose after ya?” Just then, a bullhorn screeches thu the still night air and the Markem hears a familiar voice. “I know your in there, MacCooper! Come on out, ya vagrant!” Charlie peers out the broken windowpane. His eyes go wide with fear and astonishment. “Marks, you got the best tracker in Interpol on your furry butt?!” Once Celeste awakens, she joins the boys at the window. “What in the world 'tis goin' on here!?” The squirrel says, ducking beside Marks to avoid the searchlight. “Well according to my friend, Charlie Wildstar, here, the best Interpol tracker to throw me in the Poke.” “Boy, come out and bring whatever associates ya got up there with you. This is your last warning!” “Wow, big guy, ye must’ve done somtin' major to get Sergeant Firewolf after you.” Lyra creeps up to the black tinted window and sees the posse of vehicles and officers, shock guns set to stun, poised to pick off any of the young beasts whom might be caught with their heads up. “Sorry ma-am, I ain’t going without a fight!” “Fine, have it your way. Smoke’em out lads!!” She sneers as those around her start lobbing smoke grenades into the run-down housing complex. Young Lyra grabs one and tosses it back before it can start spewing out it’s contents. Markem joins her, grabs one, and chucks it, hitting a blue lizard right between the eyes, who staggers until unconsciousness takes hold. “Ha-ha 10 points for hitting a bobby.” “That’s nothing watch this.” Raccoon girl snags a projectile in mid-air, spins, and launches it. And first nails a slender, female, wildcat with emerald eyes in the chest, then a bright red fox gets grounded by a hit to his leg, he kicks up, giving the grenade some more force when it finally slams a scrawny little weasel in the back of the head. “Awesome, three for the price of one. That’s 40 points!” She cheers jumping up & down. “Ok lass this means war.” Markem and Lyra continue their game while Charlie and Celeste attempt to formulate a plan of escape. “Alright, Charlie, how do ya propose we get out of this fix?” “Right, didn't catch your name, doll.” He narrowly misses getting pegged by a well aimed grenade. “'Tis Celeste Copperton, and if ye call me doll again, you’ll be eating some teeth." She throws the bomb back and a howl of dismay rings in from outside. Marks sounds from where he and Lyra were returning volleys. “Woo-hoo, Celess ya get 35 points for hitting a constable!” She sighs and says “Any ideas, Charlie can’t keep this up for long.” The police dog’s quick mind thinks for a moment then voices his idea. “What if I pretend to capture yous' and when we get past the barricade, we run for it.” “Sounds good to me, lad. Lass, over here now.” The two bombardiers go to where Charlie & Celeste are seated. She explains the plan and they all take their positions. The three thieves starts chucking anything that comes to paw into the mass a foes. Charlie slips out the wood door. “OPEN UP!! Or I’ll smash the door in!” He barks aggressively. “I freakin' dare ya, pig!” Lyra shouts back. “That’s it!” He takes a few paces back charges the door with the raw power of an ox and the force of an arctic gale. And with a mighty crash, the once firm door is reduced to shambles, sending splinters careening through the air. He shouts loudly. “FREEZE in the name of law!” A wink passes between the boys, they tie up evenly matched in strength. “All righty then, young’n, lets make it a worthwhile brawl shall we?” “Righto, laddie, buck have at thee.” Marks frees his right hand and throws the first punch. It connects with Wildstar’s jaw, sending him staggering back. “Yow! Dude! Ya got a nice right hook, there try mine.” He swings with amazing speed actually catching even the experienced young lad off guard with a powerful punch to the ribs. “Oy, mate! Take it easy, 'tis meant to be a fake fight.” “Sorry, dude, I don’t fake fight. It’s all or nothin'.” The thief gets a devilish smile across his face then launches into the same kickboxing routine that he used on the big badger, Arthur. Only Charlie is quick enough to block all but a massive kick from our hero, square in the lower back. Wildstar sinks to one knee then retaliates with a leg sweep, Marks springs into the air. The momentum of the missed kick is so great, that he couldn’t stop it and strikes the coffee table, shattering it like he did the door. With his paws clasped together in a ball brings it down to defeat Charlie, but at the last moment, he rolls over on his shoulder and mule kicks the descending thief, sending him propelling through hazy air and smack into the back wall. He allows a pained yelp to escape through his lips. The police dog runs forward to finish the teenager off. Just as he is about to slug him, Markem brings his fist up to deliver a haymaker, sending the dazed dog head over heels, to land flat on his back. During this battle, Lyra & Celeste are keeping the bobbies' heads down by throwing whatever they can, keeping them behind the cars. The squirrel is just about to throw another plate when the defeated boy crashes into her with a grunt, she looks up and sees Charlie with hand-cuffs, ready to bring them out and make their escape. “Ok kiddies, time to go.” He slaps the gray bracelets on each of the thieves' wrists. “Sergeant Firewolf, cease fire. The fugitives are in my custody. I’m bringin’em out now!” He pulls Marks to his footpaws, the girls stand up and walk out allowing Officer Wildstar to take them out of the decrepit building. As they exit the Sergeant comes up and congratulates the brave young dog. “Masterfully done, son. You’ve made me proud.” She pats his back soundly.“Gee, thanks, ma.” He smiles sheepishly an scratches the back of his head, embarrassed. The emerald-eyed Wildcat offers to take the prisoners in for him, but he declines. “No thanks, Cali. I gots' it from here. The precinct isn’t far, stir your stumps ruffians, this way.” He shoves them all forward, he doesn’t notice Marla sending Cali & the scrawny weasel whose name is Max to follow them just in case. The group is about a block from the precinct when they make a left into a cramped alleyway before the dog releases his captives, he has the look of someone who in the middle of a mental between his undying honor and equally mighty is his sense of duty laying the pros& cons grappling with letting his new friends go like he said or sticking to his job and not letting his mother down by allowing known criminals to go scot-free. Celeste’s sultry voice returns the far-off Charlie back to the here-and-now. “Hey, Charlie did my ears hear right or did you call Sergeant Marla Firewolf 'ma'?" “Huh?” He mumbles distractedly, shaking his head. “Did ye call the Sergeant 'ma'?” She repeats. "Yea, I’m adopted. My legal name is 'Charles Firewolf' but my birth name is 'Charles Wildstar.'" Marks joins still somewhat dazed from Charlie’s last k.o.ing punch. “Ya know, mate, you don’t haf’ta let us go. We’ll go with ya, so ye don’t get fired and let your mum down.” They are about to put the cuffs back on but the noble hound stops them and replaces the objects back to his belt. “Nay, friends, I said I’d get ya past the barricade to safety and I always keep my word… now go.” “Thanks pal we owe you one.” Lyra says and gives him a hug. “Aye thanks, handsome.” Says Celeste as she kisses his cheek in thanks. Markem grabs his forearm and shakes it hardily. “Hope our paths cross again, Charlie Wildstar.” “Same here, Markem MacCooper. Farewell.” Markem, Celeste, and Lyra stop at the end of the alley look back and wave to their powerful new ally. Charlie turns to walk back to the precinct, but sees Cali and Max standing in awe.  To Be Continued…

You are not authorized to comment here. Your must be registered and logged in to comment