Goldrunner

A speeding figure pushed his way through the crowded streets of Grand Concentra City, his adept flexibility keeping his momentum going as he bumped through the myriad of species and distraught residents. The overcast late afternoon sky and wet asphalt from the morning drizzle did nothing to deter the many vendors and con artists from selling or bartering off their bootleg wares and shoddy corporate merchandise. The yellow and white cheetah, clad in an unassuming pink t-shirt, brown leather jacket, and gray sweatpants, paid no mind to their objections as he slipped past claws of annoyance and vaulted over discarded garbage bags that had yet to be collected. But such was the way of the Commerce District. And Hunter Pantone had no interest in their business. Only what was clutched in the pocket of the jacket that had once been his father’s.

Rounding a corner and down a side street lined with strung garments for sale, Hunter slowed to a brisk walk, his golden eyes scanning the thinner crowd for Authorities, the Northern Empire’s police watchdogs. Their official mission was to ‘Ensure the safety and protection of the Northern Empire’s property and peoples’, but many petty infractions and false accusations were met with the strictest handlings under the umbrella of safety and protection. The city would do better to encourage becoming a mercenary for the people’s own protection, Hunter thought. That’s what he’d done after all, with no one else to help him. A government funded force did nothing but protect the assets of those that lobbied for their foundation anyway.

Taking the small silver object out of his pocket, Hunter glanced at what he’d been charged with protecting—a flash drive, the contents of which could create a public outrage if the truth was revealed to them. He’d been stupid to think the Authorities would crack down on the corruption inscribed on the drive’s meager databanks, instead branding him the threat to the city’s security. Too many people were going to die if he didn’t find someone to believe him. But he’d been alone for years, who would he even know who could handle this professionally? Placing the flash drive back in his pocket, he continued through to the next street.

---

From a shadowed balcony above, the figure of Rosa Amaranth, shrouded in a loose pale-purple cloak, watched as Hunter passed by. The pink clouded leopard rested her head against her folded arms along the railing, her spotted tail flicking back and forth in anticipation.

“He is alone,” she muttered, hiding her phone from view to retain the guise of a tired seamstress. “He still has the drive with him.”

“Ensure it stays with him,” came the voice over her phone, Maron Umber, the maned wolf who supervised her squad’s academic progress at the Spectrum Academy in the city. Rosa would not fail him, not on her first big mission.

She kept her gaze locked on the cheetah as he paused, looking both ways down the next street before bursting into a sprint. Shouting erupted, and two shepherd Authorities revealed themselves from behind a rusting iron building near an alleyway, clad in blue light shirts and slacks, with a set of carbon tactical armor over their chests. Spotting Hunter, they gave pursuit, until the cheetah was out of Rosa’s vision.

“Dammit,” she hissed, pulling her phone out. “Vert, he’s headed your way.”

---

“I got him,” Vert Greene answered, putting his phone in the satchel strapped to his hip. He was a bright green kangaroo, waiting two blocks down at the subway platform which overlooked a set of train tracks. He was dressed in a fitting forest green sports tunic and leather braces on his calves and tail, wearing a tribal diamond shaped necklace. A quiver and longbow were strapped to his back. In the distance, Vert could hear the shouting as the Authorities tailed Hunter.

With the cheetah barreling down towards Vert, the kangaroo took a slight step into his path. Moving too fast to dodge, the two collided briefly before Hunter took a step back, unsheathing his golden sword and pointing it at the roo in irritation.

“You better watch where you’re going man,” Vert said with a scowl, unperturbed by the blade pointed at him. Hunter rolled his eyes in irritation before sheathing his sword and turning down the steps towards the subway entrance atrium. Shortly after, the two shepherd Authorities reached Vert. They stopped, their noses sniffing for the fugitive, but the musky scents of too many species clouded them.

“I thought you guys knew how to track!” Vert called to them. “He slammed right into me and kept going that way.” The roo pointed behind him down another street in an attempt to throw them off. “You can try to catch him, but you know how cheetahs are,” he said with a smug smile.

“You won’t have that attitude when you find yourself needing our help one day,” one of the Authorities scowled before he and his partner continued in the direction Vert had pointed them.

“Heh, sure thing pal,” he said under his breath before pulling out his phone. “Hey Ceru, he’s coming right toward you.”

---

Down by the subway tracks, Cerulean Azura the arctic fox felt his adrenaline spike. He was dressed in sky blue sweatpants and a black gi with blue highlights tied together with a red belt, his pure white fur with royal blue markings standing on end. His nerves were already frayed, but Maron had assured him Hunter was no threat as long as the fox kept his distance.

The cheetah had stopped at the edge of the subway platform, tapping his foot impatiently. Thirty seconds later, a battered train pulled to a stop, the force of the air pushed aside reverberating over the sound of all the voices. As the doors opened, Hunter stepped in and pushed past a disgruntled red panda passenger, ignoring the fox among them as they piled into the car. Inside, the cheetah took a stance by the door across from Cerulean, leaning against a pole for a quick way out once they reached his stop.

During the ride, Cerulean couldn’t help but glance nervously back at Hunter every few minutes. A few times, the cheetah cast his steely gaze back, knowing something was amiss. Cerulean’s ears twitched, and he pulled his tail over his ankles. Hunter tugged his jacket back slightly, enough to reveal the sheath on his left hip, placing his paw over his sword’s silver hilt before looking away.

---

Not long later, the subway had finally reached the Pipeline District, the industrial sector of Grand Concentra City on the southeastern coast where much of the shipping docks were located. The sky there was always coated in a gray haze from all the equipment constantly running. Hunter exited the train, which stationed above ground as most of the district was built artificially over water and had no underground save for the labyrinthian network of sewers.

He sensed the arctic fox from before nearby, and knew he wasn’t there by choice. His clothes were too crisp and presentable. All the natives to the Pipeline District always wore browns and greens, rougher clothes that could take the industrial work. The poor fox stuck right out.

Slipping beyond a steel mill barracks Hunter made his way down towards the shipping yards where his houseboat lay tucked away under a tall pier. It was late in the day, the overcast clouds turning a muted orange as the sun set behind them. Barely anyone wandered the docks, most of the workers had gone home and there wasn’t anything keeping people there for fun. Hunter strolled out onto the tall wooden pier, the horizon above the Rift Ocean to the east blending into the water.

A shuffle behind him caused the cheetah to turn back towards the empty streets. In the gloom, a shadow scurried towards a crate, tripping slightly before righting itself. Hunter recognized the fox from the subway, unsheathing his golden sword.

“Who are you?” He growled. The fox stood there, staring with his bright sky-blue eyes ahead, the only movements coming from the deep breaths heaving his chest.

“Well?” the cheetah demanded. The fox cleared his throat, unclipping a short metal rod from his belt. He clicked a button, igniting an energy tether ending in a glowing ice blue crystal blade that illuminated the left side of his face.

“You can’t leave yet,” the fox said, uncertainty in his voice. Hunter’s eyes narrowed.

“Who’s going to stop me? Not you.”

“No, but I’m not trying to.”

An arrow suddenly whizzed past Hunter’s face and buried itself in the wooden planks of the pier behind him. Glancing over at a nearby crane arm, Hunter saw the kangaroo he’d ran into in the city perched on the machine, his bow readied with another arrow. An almost imperceptible woosh of air behind Hunter’s back made his ears twitch. From the corner of his eye he saw a pink clouded leopard flip onto the pier from underneath, dressed in a black sports top and pink sweatpants. Carbon grip gloves were strapped to her paws, which clutched a series of four-tipped shurikens.

“What are you?” Hunter asked, holding his sword in a defensive stance. “Mercenaries?”

“No,” the kangaroo answered. “We want to help you. You’ve got some very dangerous information, Hunter.”

“You don’t know what I have. Judging by your matching gis I take it you’re from the Spectrum Academy. I bet you’re just running errands for them. I don’t need your help.”

Twisting his sword so the point of the blade faced down, he plunged it into the board below his feet. The plank snapped in half, dropping the cheetah into the darkness below.

---

Vert leaped off the crane, doing a somersault before landing squarely on the pier just in front of Rosa. Cerulean ran over to them as well, the three gazing downwards, but the water was too far below for them to see where Hunter had disappeared. A few moments later, they heard a boat’s engine start up, followed by the rushing sound of waves as Hunter’s wooden houseboat abandoned its hiding spot from under the pier and blasted towards the open ocean.

“We can still catch him!” Cerulean shouted.

The fox rushed towards the end of the pier, ready to catch the boat before it could make it beyond the port, but Vert suddenly tackled him to the planks. Rosa wasted no time in charging past them, leaping forwards and throwing one of her shurikens at the houseboat, burying itself in the stern. Before she could fall into the water, the leopard threw another star upwards, this one attached to a cable which wrapped itself around one of the pillars holding the pier up. Using her momentum, she twisted around and launched herself back onto the pier, landing with precision in front of Vert as he yanked Cerulean back to his feet.

“Are you dense?” Vert snapped at Cerulean. “What were you doing?”

“You wanna just let him go?” the fox shot back.

“You’re a scout, not a warrior. I don’t trust you not to mess this whole mission up.” Rosa stepped forward, pulling Vert back.

“Don’t be so hard, Vert,” she said with a smile. “Besides, we have all we need.” Pulling out her phone, she showed him a map of the coast, where a beacon was sending out a series of pings every few seconds. “My stars have tracking devices in them, remember? I wouldn’t want to keep having to make more after all.” The kangaroo looked out at the dark waters, the sun had finally set behind them, leaving the three alone on the pier in the night.

“The mission’s not over, though,” Vert retorted. “The Academy needs Hunter and the information safe.” Rosa gave a small laugh.

“They will be,” she assured. “Just be a little patient.”

---

When he was far enough off the coast, Hunter allowed himself to relax. He’d made sure to avoid the busy shipping channels while he rested, his wooden houseboat would be nothing more than a puny fish to the iron cargo vessels that crowded the Rift Ocean as they transported goods between the Northern Empire and the eastern continent of Sakaru. Standing on the narrow deck of the bow, Hunter gazed at the crescent glow of Ashe, one of Concentra’s four moons, which the clouds had generously moved aside to allow, the only sound coming from the lapping waves against the boat’s hull. Hunter wished the world could always be so peaceful.

Heading back inside to his tiny quarters, he made himself a small plate of cooked carp and roasted apples before plopping down on the green, flattened cushion of his worn chair and opened his dingy laptop. It was clunkier than what was currently available, but Hunter preferred the time before operating systems were just another advertising space.

Fishing inside his jacket pocket he grasped the flash drive, still in perfect condition. Pulling it out and connecting it to the computer, he gazed at its dangerous contents once more. For two decades, the Northern Empire had been at war with the Savanna States to the south, the scattered domains of the Sur Kingdoms. And while the Empire boasted its advanced technology and industrial pursuits, the Kingdoms preferred its lavish and dignified appearance over innovation. The Empire, forever searching for more land to harvest for resources, had begun the Imperial War when it had attacked the Sur Kingdoms’ capital State of Felonis. But in the war’s eighteen years, neither side had been able to gain any territory over the other. And despite the Empire’s technological advantages, it did not yet have the warrior mindset of the people that the Sur Kingdoms had. It needed more recruits, emboldened by a cause. Which was exactly why it had the secret plans that it did. But there was a mole in the Empire, who had compiled all the evidence against the government that they needed to reveal the conspiracy. The information now entrusted to Hunter.

In about a week’s time, the Spectrum Academy, the grand university where the Empire trained its citizens in all forms of arts, sciences, and combat, would be destroyed in an enormous bombing which would level the entire facility. The Empire had several scapegoats lined up, agents claiming to be from the Sur Kingdoms, who would take the fall for the attack that would be labeled as a conspiracy by the Savanna States. Conveniently, the government of Grand Concentra City had made sure to have every student away from the campus before the attack, intending to use their connection to the Academy to awaken the warrior’s resolve they needed to combat the Sur Kingdoms. And Hunter guessed those three he had met in the city earlier were after him as part of their excuse for being away from the Academy. It’s why they let him go. But the staff—the professors, the janitors, the legendary warriors who had retired and returned to pass on what they’d learned, would all be sacrificed for the Empire’s propaganda. The one who’d hired Hunter, an anonymous supervisor, was supposed to die in the attack, but somehow he had discovered the plot early. The cheetah was well known throughout his district for being able to track down and retrieve any lost object, so who better to keep an object away, the supervisor had explained to him, and given him the flash drive. He should have known better before opening the drive’s contents the first time, but he felt he couldn’t turn away from this responsibility. Closing the laptop, Hunter leaned back in his chair, letting the calm waves rock him to sleep.