Jayson jerks awake to Derrick shaking his shoulder. The peaceful void came and went too fast, and Jayson runs his face hard to hide the aggravation. But that aggravation morphs to confusion when he feels a weighted warmth presses against his back.

  He looks behind him and jumps from surprise seeing Lexia pressed up against him, face against his head, arm dropped over him, leg hooked over his, and her chest to his back. The blanket he gave her is also covered them.

  Lexia is still sleeping, and Jayson blinks away the confusion, taking in Derrick's stern expression. The eagle's feathers are slicked back, his tactical gear already strapped on, rifle slung over his shoulder.

  "It’s time. Get her up, too," says Derrick.

  Jayson nods, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The living room is still dark, but there's movement all around.

  Nermal is in the kitchen, brewing coffee under a small lamp light, Owen is checking ammunition, Peter is strapping on a bulletproof vest, and Chipper packing medical supplies into a backpack. Everyone moves with quiet efficiency, the result of too many similar mornings. The only one not doing anything is Dixie. She is on Derrick's living room nest, watching everyone with beady eyes and holding a pillow protectively against her frail body.

  Jayson turns to Lexia, hesitating before shaking her shoulder. "Hey. Wake up."

  Lexia's eyes immediately snap open. She quickly realizes the position she is in and swiftly pulls away.

  “I’m awake. Is it go time?” says Lexia.

  “Yep,” says Jayson, standing and stretching.

  Lexia stands up with a groan. Her bathrobe has loosened during the night, and she tightens it with a sharp tug. "Alright, I'll be ready in a minute."

  Lexia goes to the bathroom to change, and Jayson goes to Derrick’s linen closet.

  He pulls on his blue shirt and dark coat, secures his pants, and slips his fingerless gloves over his paws.

  Jayson slips on his shoes, secures his cosmic weapon, and finishes with securing his scarf around his neck. His clothes are still stained despite the impromptu cleaning they got from Lexia's stunt, and he gives his scarf a gentle rub before exiting the closet.

  When he gets out, Lexia is leaving the bathroom. The metal plates of her homemade armor gleam in the dull light, and she has her bazooka strapped to her back, plus her pistol and knife secured on her belt.

  The two look at each other, nod, and head to the kitchen.

  Twenty minutes later, Jayson and Lexia find themselves in Nermal's car, Owen and Chipper are riding with Peter, and Derrick flies overhead.

  Hot air blows through the vents, and a bored radio host talks sports. Nermal is listening intently while Jayson and Lexia wish he would change the channel.

  Fog lights from the vehicles and lights from the streetlamps create orbs of hazy illumination in the dark, wet air as they drive through the empty streets of Bliss Town. The cracked sky casts an eerie blue glow over the battered buildings.

  Lexia tightly clutches her bazooka between her legs, and Jayson stares out the window, trying to get his bearings.

  As they turn onto a quiet suburban enclave labeled “Dream Boulevard”, the group sees both sides of the broken asphalt are lined with overgrown yards and run-down colonial style houses with peeling paint and sagging porches. Many of them abandoned, some with foreclosure signs.

  Seeing the dilapidated state brings Jayson's ears to sag and a weight crushes his heart as his eyes scan the decay.

  "I know this place," says Jayson, the words out before he can stop them.

  “Same,” says Nermal. “A flicker of hope for Bliss Town. Beaten down when unsavory people took advantage of the cheap houses. Some foreclosed, some up and left entirely, and some used it as their staging ground for their crime syndicates. Until Mama Bear moved in from Serenityville and cleaned out all competition in Bliss Town.”

  “So, this is where it started for Bliss Town,” says Lexia.

  “Officially,” says Nermal. “Unofficially it was because Mama Bear paid off the mayor and police chief.”

  Nermal looks at Lexia through his rear-view mirror.

  “Your father was investigating Mama Bear's influence on the mayor when he was murdered,” says Nermal.

  “And they still don't know who killed him,” says Lexia, her eyes and tone hardening.

  “We'll find them. I promise,” says Nermal.

  Jayson keeps his eyes on the houses, quietly realizing that as long as he has been homeless, wandering Bliss Town and doing his warrior business, he has never set foot in Dream Boulevard. Now he knows why he has been unconsciously avoiding it. The crushing weight that Oswald could very well have been right about reserving houses is like a knife to his heart.

  ‘Houses, burrows, nests, all are responsibilities that should only go to the cream of the crop! Tossing homes left and right to people who can’t handle them will give us foreclosures, damages, and invite bottom feeders into Bliss Town!’

  Jayson looks down, gripping his weapon tighter and grinding his teeth together. He says nothing and his heart tightens

  The vehicles slow as they approach a thicket of trees half a mile from their target. Nermal cuts the engine, and they quietly exit, gathering their weapons and gear.

  Nearby, Owen, Chipper, and Peter exit their vehicle, and Derrick lands nearby.

  “About time you guys showed up,” says Bridgette, but her voice is without a body.

  The sudden voice makes the group jump, and they look around, limbs stiff but eyes and ears perked, scanning the misty hill for the postal worker turned sniper.

  “By your foot, Derrick,” says Bridgette.

  Derrick looks down at a lump of twigs and leaves, and sighs heavily. Said lump is near Peter's vehicle.

  “I guess I'm getting rusty,” says Derrick.

  “Yeah, but that's okay. I'm here to pick up the slack,” says Bridgette.

  “Are you going to move to another spot? You almost got run over,” says Lexia.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Absolutely not. I'm already well established and moving will ruin everything. Just get on with the mission details. I'll keep my eyes on the safe house,” says Bridgette.

  “Alright, so here's the recap,” says Derrick, walking away from Bridgette's lump to get closer to the group. “We'll approach from two directions. Peter, you take your team around the back. Nermal, Jayson and Lexia, you three approach from the front. I'll take the back and provide cover for Peter while Bridgette covers you three.”

  The group vocalizes their affirmation, but Jayson isn't listening anymore. His eyes have locked onto the house in the distance.

  It is rundown and now has razor wire all over its windows and doors, and a broken playground and other unpleasant decaying features, but he recognizes its structure, from the shape of the door to the location of the windows, their fake shutters, the slope of the roof, and the strip of masonry around its foundation. The recognition hits him like a physical blow, stealing his breath and making his knees weak.

  (((((O)))))

  Jayson paced around the front door of the Miss Irey Lane property, occasionally checking his watch and tapping his recently polished shoe on the welcome mat.

  The sun was up, the clouds covered the cracks in the sky, and a gentle breeze made the afternoon showing a lot more comfortable weather wise. However, his heart was still racing, and his throat was getting tight.

  His client had only one minute left before she was late, and then depending on how late she was he’d have to leave for his other showing. And if that happened-

  A sudden crunching of gravel snapped Jayson out of his incoming panic. His blue eyes snapped up, and a careful smile stretched on his well-groomed face. For show, he adjusted his cuff as he walked towards the slowing vehicle. It was nothing special. Just a beige, blocky vehicle with tinted windows, black stripes on the doors, and faded rims.

  The vehicle stopped, and Jayson brushed the wrinkles and dust off his blue suit while the door opened.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Willows, welcome to the Dream Boulevard and the Miss Irey Lane property," recited Jayson.

  But much to his surprise, two unexpected things happened. The first, there was no Mister. It was just the Missus. Secondly, the Missus was a bear wearing a yellow sun dress with white flowers. And she was not just a bear. She was a grizzly.

  Jayson had to tilt his head up to look at her hulking frame, and his ears drooped and his eyes bulged. The female bear looked down at him with a small frown. Then grinned and snapped out her large paw hand.

  “Hi! I’m Cassie Willows! We spoke on the phone three days ago about this property,” she said, her voice pleasant and bright like the sun on a cloudless day.

  “Oh… Yeah,” said Jayson. He recognized the voice as the one he spoke with over the phone, and he couldn’t help but release a nervous chuckle when he extended his hand.

  Her large hand could have crushed his in one squeeze if she wanted to, and Jayson had heard plenty of stories of grizzly troops fighting during the Toxic War. Built like tanks, fought like tanks, died like tanks.

  Out of all the soldiers that fought during the Toxic War, the grizzlies and badgers were the worst, and both were insane in their own ways. And now here he was, showing a property to one with the kindest smile he had ever seen from a client.

  “No… uh… No Mr. Willows?” said Jayson.

  Cassie pulled her hand away, holding her smile. “No, he had business to attend to. But he trusts me. Oh, and sorry about scaring you with that frown. I just thought it would be funny since us grizzlies have a reputation. I wish I had a camera. Your face was hilarious!”

  “Right…” sighed Jayson. “So… do you want to see the house?”

  "Yes, let me see this house," said Cassie, practically bouncing with excitement.

  Jayson led her up the stone pathway, fumbling with the lockbox on the door. His mind raced, trying to recalibrate his sales pitch. The Miss Irey Lane property was a great size for a rabbit (or weasel, or badger, or fox), but for a grizzly like Cassie, the house was like living in a cardboard box.

  "This is a charming colonial-style home with three bedrooms, two bathrooms," recited Jayson as he swung the door open. "It's approximately eighteen hundred square feet, with a recently updated kitchen and—"

  "I'll take it" interrupted Cassie, her massive frame struggling through the doorway as she peered inside.

  Jayson blinked dumbly. "But you haven't even seen it yet.”

  Cassie managed to get inside, the floorboards creaking beneath her weight. She brushed off her dress and smiled.

  "I don't need to see more. This is exactly what I've been looking for,” said Cassie.

  Jayson followed her, watching as she ran her paw along the wall, inspecting the crown molding with surprising gentleness.

  "Mrs. Willows, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I really think you should see the entire property before making any decisions,” said Jayson.

  "Call me Cassie, please." She turned to him, her eyes soft. "I know what I want when I see it. This house has good bones. But that said, you and I both know this house has been overpriced by your boss.”

  Jayson shifts on his feet, nodding. “Yeah, I can't deny that.”

  “Can you be a dear for me, and have the county and bank do a proper appraisal? You do that, and I'll pay in full cash,” said Cassie.

  Jayson blinked again, his hears perked. “Oh? I mean, that is generous, but Mr. Oswald's policy is no full purchases.”

  “Ah, so he's a payment plan type of guy.”

  “Yeah. We also have early payment penalties. He’s really milking every penny, if you know what I mean.”

  Cassie nodded slowly, stroking her chin. A few seconds passed, and she abruptly stopped, her smile remaining.

  “I'll tell you what. Adjust the price that the assessors deem accurate, and I'll drop the twenty percent down payment, and then finish paying next month. I won't worry about the early payment penalties,” said Cassie.

  She stepped closer, towering over Jayson, her shadow covering his body and her bulk eclipsing the light behind her. Her smile remained, but with her height, weight, and teeth, they come off as unintentionally threatening.

  “What do you say, Mr. Hopper?” asked Cassie.

  Jayson swallowed and took a step back. “I'll make some calls and get you a more accurate price that you and your husband will find more tolerable.”

  “Excellent!” Cassie pulled Jayson into a tight hug, lifting him off the floor, leaving his feet dangling and his breathing reduced to pained grunts. “Thank you for your help! I can't wait to move into this house.”

  “You're welcome,” grunted Jayson. “Can you… let me go now? … I kinda can't breathe.”

  Cassie dropped Jayson. He landed on his rump, wheezing for air and rubbing his chest, and Cassie smiled sheepishly as she rubbed her large hands together.

  “Sorry about that,” seethed Cassie.

  (((((O)))))

  "Jayson!"

  Lexia's sharp voice snaps him back to the present. She's standing in front of him, bazooka strapped to her back, concern evident in her brown eyes despite her irritation.

  "What?" says Jayson, blinking rapidly.

  "We've been trying to get your attention. We're moving out," says Lexia.

  Jayson looks around. Derrick is long gone and the others are already moving towards the house.

  "Sorry," says Jayson. "I was just... remembering something."

  Lexia’s lips curl at the top and she punches Jayson's shoulder. "Well, remember it later. We've got a safe house to raid."

  As they follow Nermal toward the front approach, Jayson can't shake the memory of meeting Cassie Willows and her excitement of the house. He wonders what happened to her plans, or if Mama Bear's expanding criminal swallowed the cheerful bear.

  “Hey, you still with me?” asks Lexia.

  Jayson nods. “Yeah. Barely.”

  Lexia arches a brow. “What's with you? Are you getting cold feet? Do you need some drugs to calm you down? I got some anxiety pills I can loan you.”

  “No, I'm fine,” says Jayson with a dismissive wave. “Let's just get this Ramsey Prosper problem taken care of so Trafford can leave us alone.”

  From this distance, the safehouse is just a dark shape against the horizon—a two-story colonial with a detached garage, surrounded by a chain-link fence. Flood lights illuminate the perimeter, and Jayson can make out at least four guards patrolling outside.

  They make their way through the underbrush, weapons ready. Jayson's hand rests on the cosmic wood sword at his hip. His heart beats a chaotic rhythm in his chest and the lump returns in his throat.

  Jayson years every step they take. Every press on the grass, every crunch of gravel, every breath, every shift of fabric. He hears it all.

  His breathing gets heavier.

  He wants to puke.

  His heart is aching.

  He wants to run into the danger and burn it all down.

  He sees Lexanne lurking in the hollowed-out houses, her white eyes and broad grin staring at him. She raises a bloody hand and waves.

  Jayson squeezes his eyes shut, shuddering and exhaling heavily while his feet keep him moving.

  His eyes gradually open. Nermal is still in front, clutching his shotgun, and Lexia is beside him, her body towering over his by a full head, her bazooka now cradled in her arm and her brown eyes focused ahead.

  Jayson looks ahead, eyes narrowing on the safe house.

  The end is near for Mama Bear’s influence in Bliss Town, and while he is sick to his stomach about what is about to happen, he finds a glimmer of joy in the oncoming carnage.

  At long last, he will make Mama Bear bleed.