::0cp.26/41/T - Chomp

Even the mutts were dwindling in number. There were always more wild ones to be tamed from outside, in the Zone, for Chomp had an intuitive way with them. Jonats had gone out in the recent expedition, and Chomp secretly wished that he would meet his end at a pack of feral canines. Or maybe he could train Vinnie well enough to take down the enforcer bully on his return. That wouldn’t solve the problem of the declining dog population though; the canines were handy to the Ark, more reliable than many of the People. Something was killing them, or ending them prematurely.

Chomp laid on his mat on the floor, staring up in the roof. So many problems, how could he convince people to care about the dogs. They didn't when the Ark had better times, and now everyone was scrambling and panicking. The dogs would probably be better off if all the people died. Well most of them. A few of them deserved to live. But the truth was that he was the only one that could deal with whatver was happening to the dogs.

Getting up, he tiptoes between other snoring shapes. If he woke somone, he'd probably get another beating. Once out of the communal sleeping quarter he makes his way to the dog pound. He ponders the problem on the way, wondering if they could be poisoned. But it couldn't be could it? There were hardly food to go around and the dogs weren't at the top of the food chain.

Once at the pound he find as a place in the shadow where he lies down next to Vinnie. Snuggling to share heat. While keeping an eye and an ear open should anyone else arrive. Someone intending the dogs harm. With food supplies so low, maybe someone was turning to dogs to keep their bellies fed.

If Chomp wanted to confirm his suspicions, his plan was a sound one. It mattered little to him whether he bunked in the lower deck common hall with a dozen others, away generally those who refused to ally themselves with one of the bosses, or those who pushed or fought hard enough to occupy the single quarters. The pound was located in a sheltered area on the main deck, giving the mutts the open sky and some decent enough space for them to spread themselves out and mark their own territory, while allowing them to be accessible to the People should they need their services.

There were only a small handful amongst the People who considered themselves dog handlers, whether by affinity or by training and necessity. Kester was one of them, perhaps Chomp could look for him the next day to see if he noticed anything amiss. The other whom Chomp found to be particularly close to the mongrels was a younger girl, Elle, whose mutation was a significant tail of prehensile nature.

The unpleasant rain and the cold of the night meant the dogs had largely huddled under the semi-roof, away from the pitter-patter of the acid drops. They were familiar with Chomp, and largely ignored him as he found a spot next to Vinnie, who welcomed him as enthusiastically as always, before flopping back down against his flank, ready to doze off again.

Chomp would do what was necessary to see that no harm came to the dogs.

Chomp could feel the warmth from Vinnie and as his chin rested on his soft fur, he felt it would be hard to stay awake. But he would manage.

Chomp did doze off fitfully, the inexplicable comforts of the canine pack lulling him to sleep. From where he leaned against he could look out beyond the main deck of their Ark, over the water. Had he faced the other side he would have stared at the ruined, crumbling buildings flattened by whatever it was that devastated them. His angle though pointed him outward, across the misty polluted bay where he could still make out the shape of the Fallen Lady statue that lay half submerged, with her spiked crown and tired expression, as tired as Chomp felt ...

... he roused when the weight of Vinnie's head lifted from his thigh. The blanketing darkness of night, now that the rain had thinned to a foggy drizzle, obscured much of what Chomp could see. But he definitely heard the sounds of movement, both the step of dog, as well as someone else, a person. They were some distance on the other side of the deck, and it sounded like they were fussing about with something or other. His vigil had paid off!

Chomp's first instinct is to run at the sounds, but he have no idea how many. That could be certain death, and that wouldn't help any dogs. With a gesture he tells Vinnie to be quiet and follow. He tries to sneak around, staying in the shadows, so he gets a view of whoever it is. As he creeps he gets another thought, maybe he's just about to give another dog handler a heart attack. Well, serves them right for sneaking about in the dark, Chomp thinks, the irony lost on him.

Vinnie knew instinctively what Chomp was up to, such was their rapport as his loyal companion also padded along as silently as its master, keen senses alert for what lay ahead. Taking his dog's cue, Chomp stepped carefully forward, unable to see too much in the light foggy darkness until he neared the source of the sound. At the same moment, Vinnie slowed and sniffed the air, nose pointing forward, as Chomp began to make out a darker, human-sized shape ahead.

The sound was the familiar sound of mutts feeding, the rasp of gnawing bone and tearing of wet flesh. Four, five, maybe half a dozen dog-shadows surrounded whatever it was they were eating, the person towering over them no doubt the supplier of their meal. The dogs were too busy to pay attention to Chomp's proximity, even though they would've detected his arrival. Perhaps Chomp's familiar scent to them did not give them cause for alarm. The person was still oblivious.

Was this person simply here to feed the animals? Were they intending to train the dogs' loyalty? Or poison them? Where did the large carcass of meat come from, and what kind was it? Chomp had to decide if he wanted simply to continue to observe, or approach, or take some action, or sneak away the same way he came.

Chomp remains silent, the only thing threatening to betray that silence is his own hunger and possible rumbling stomach. For a moment Chomp consider introducing his presence, but something stops him. He watches for now, and want to follow the humanoid shape back to where he came from. It would give more answers, most people lie anyway so questioning them would be useless.

Chomp stayed at a circumspect distance for a while, not approaching closer to give away the fact that he was there and spying on the person who was feeding the mutts. Vinnie stayed by his side, intuitively disciplined enough not to give in to its hunger even though Chomp had no doubt his companion was hungry too from the meagre supplies he still possessed.

The feeding went on for a while until it appeared that the half dozen dogs were sated. They put up no protest when the human figure produced some lengths of leashes, proceeding to chain them up to lead them away. Chomp was mildly surprised that the dogs did not put up any protest, not even a warning growl or two.

All this while Chomp tried to memorise what he could of the figure: medium height, but stocky from the way they moved, but the hooded jacket over their head in the fog prevented Chomp from even making out any of the facial or hair features. The figure led the dogs away, down the staircase at the far end of the deck.

Chomp could try to follow, and in fact he did take his first few quiet steps to closing the gap, before he was distracted by the fact that Vinnie had paused over what was the feed fed to the dogs. It was the remains of a human corpse!

The body ain't goin' nowhere, Chomp thinks as he stealthily follows the stranger. The stranger though, will just be more difficult to track down the more time passes. He tries to keep as much distance as possible while still having the stranger in view.

That mystery was something Chomp thought to solve later. Who was the dead person, and why did they end up being dog food? One of the key tenets of the People was never to take a life of a fellow resident of the Ark. Life was hard enough to need each other to survive. The Elder understood they could not prevent disagreement and conflict, and that violence occurred necessarily. But they drew the line at killing. The worst punishment that could ever be sentenced was exile.

But there was little time to contemplate this; Chomp had to keep up with the receding figure who moved with a surety and speed that came with a strong familiarity with the route they were taking. They headed down the staircase, crossed a corridor, then another set of stairs. One deck, then another one. The dogs did not fuss either, following closely their new handler.

Then the hooded stranger took a turn Chomp was less experienced with. Left of a service corridor ahead took the person to the tween deck, a 'sandwich' deck between two standard levels. Chomp rounded a turn to keep up, only to see the watertight door ahead, the kind with the spinning handle, open to let both person and animals though, before it began to swing shut. Evidently they were about to enter an enclosed area. Was Chomp prepared to confront whomever and whatever he found on the other side? Or would he be more circumspect to weigh where he might be heading into? He hadn't been noticed at all thus far.

Chomp was like a bloodhound, once he got a sniff he had to follow through to the end. He didn't even think as he started opening the watertight door. He'd just to hope he could handle whatever or whoever was inside. "You got my back buddy?" he whispers at Vinnie and give him a little pat on the head. Then he starts turning the spinning handle.

Chomp didn't manage to see the stranger and the dogs disappear through, but there were no other exits along this last corridor, and Vinnie implacable sense of direction affirmed that they had to have gone through the now closing door. Chomp wasn't too sure if it would be locked from the other side once it shut; he had to leg it if he wanted to get through the door. Urging his companion forward, Chomp made a dash for it as the door began to swing shut.

Need to be quick, Chomp thinks as he quickly makes his way towards the door. Too focused on the hunt to think about the concequences.

Chomp moved as gracefully as Vinnie did, with a last little leap that took both of them past the edge of the door before it slammed shut behind them.

Just past the door was a gangway, with steps leading down to the left, and to the right a short walkway that ended in another closed door. The pack and its leader must have gone down the staircase. From his vantage point, Chomp was able to look at what was below. It appeared to be rows and rows of storage containers, were they tanks? Some small activity was going on as well; two persons speaking. And it was likely that the dog thief was about to join them, or at least walk past them. From his long association with dogs, Chomp's nose was nearly as attuned to smell as they were, and he could detect a mixture of dog, of chlorine, but from his very particular predilection for meat, he picked up the slight stench of decaying flesh.

This was clearly an area he wasn't meant to be in. Was he about to investigate further and risk being seen? Or was he intending to confront below the persons involved?

Chomp shakes his head as he imagine what they could do the dogs here. He want to run after and grab the man and ask what's going on. But he thinks he can get more answers by spying on them. He tries to walk the walkway to see if he can pick up the conversation. If not he want to try and climb down from the walkway so they don't see him.

He was too far up to make out complete sentences, the echoes of the chamber allowing him at best to pick up "...dead... more... soon..." Chomp had to go down the stairs if he wanted to hear more clearly, but that would necessarily mean meeting the persons below; there was little room to sneak or hide. It wasn't too late to quit, if Chomp wanted to remain undiscovered, for no one paid any attention to him standing on the walkway.

Chomp steels himself and gets to the top of the stairs. He rushes down and tries to overpower one of the men quickly, hopefully take him down, leaving one to talk. He hope to use surprise and plans to grab one them and knock its head into the railing and then move on the next one.