This unfinished tale takes place after the events of Hidalgo Sun.

There was a strong smell of moisture and decay in the air. Jerad Porter’s nose twitched as he slowly became aware of his surroundings, though he felt extremely relaxed. The diminutive raccoon yawned and smacked his lips, but he didn’t feel like he wanted to get up just yet.  The cushion beneath him was comfortable, but he felt strangely cold. A stray thought penetrated his memory... the smell of decay? He was still too relaxed to give it much thought, but when he tried to stretch his arms, he was puzzled that he couldn’t move them very high. He raised his right hand and felt more of the soft, cushiony material. It was difficult to concentrate and he didn’t have much will to think very hard, so he relaxed and drifted off again.

Merlin Sinclair stood just inside the main hatch of his freighter and crossed his arms in agitation. He looked back inside the open airlock toward Durant and frowned.  It wasn’t like Pockets to be late getting back to the Blue Horizon in time for lift-off and the wolf was concerned. He peered up at the dark overhead clouds that threatened to release its rain at any time.

"Do you think he was kidnapped again for someone’s crew?" Durant asked him. "I remember when Natasha wanted his engineering skills and had her cougar swipe him from that sleazy hotel."

Merlin gave his cargo master a worried look, but didn’t respond. It was clear the same thoughts had crossed his mind.  He looked at his wristwatch and released a heavy sigh.  "I’ll give him another hour," he said, "but we can’t wait any longer than that.  Our flight to Argeia is on a timetable and since the Kastani have only recently joined the Planetary Alignment, I don’t want to be late with our first delivery there."

The cinnamon bear flinched at a sudden crack of nearby cloud-to-ground lightning, and the sky suddenly filled with falling rain. "It’ll be difficult making the flight without him," he muttered as the sky rumbling continued. "From what Pockets tells me, Max shows promising signs of being a good mechanic, but he doesn’t have enough experience to run the engine room alone.  I wish Patch were still here."

Merlin looked at Durant in silence for a moment.  He didn’t feel like opening up that conversation, so he merely stated, "I wish Pockets would just show up. It’s getting late."

The next time Pockets became aware of his surroundings, he was a little more alert. He yawned widely and tried to roll over onto his side, but it seemed he was confined in a small space.  His tiny eyes opened, but saw nothing. He was in complete darkness.

Once again he could smell moisture and decay in the air and he was suddenly very much awake and feeling dread. He raised his hands and felt the low, cushion-lined barrier above him.  He tried to push upward, and it did actually give a little, but he wasn’t able to do much more than that. He did notice that the smell of decay was briefly stronger when the panel moved.

The raccoon relaxed a moment and tried to remember what happened, but the last memory he had was talking with cute female raccoon named Tina over drinks in a bar. Beyond that he had no recollection of anything. He gingerly felt the soft, silky fabric of the cushion he lay upon and tried to identify it.  With his fingers he touched the sides of his confinement, as well as the low ceiling.  Pockets groaned and swallowed. His superstitious nature started to surface and he began to feel frightened.

He tried to calm himself by taking slow, deep breaths and then pushed up on the top of his box. It was hard to find the leverage necessary to move the lid, but he somehow managed to make some progress. He heard a small crack of wood and suddenly the barrier above him flew open.

Pockets released the air he’d been holding in his lungs and sat up in his coffin. The air around him was cold and he could hear the sound of thunder and hard rain nearby.  A thin line of diffused light leaked into the small chamber and the engineer swallowed at the dim objects he could see.

He sat upright in a small, wooden coffin that appeared to rest in a room with three others.  The walls of the room appeared to be stone or concrete and supported a number of shelves built into opposing sides of the chamber. Pockets crawled up on top of the coffin and then hopped down onto the cold floor. There were dirt and sticks and dried leaves scattered all over the ground, and they crunched underneath his bare feet as he approached one of the wall shelves.

It was hard to see in the dimness of the room, but Pockets had no trouble identifying a human skeleton residing on the shelf. He shuddered and reached out to touch it to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Unfortunately for his peace of mind, the dry bones that poked through old, brittle clothing were real. He jerked his hand back and held it to his chest in fear.  Why was he here?

He backed up and bumped into one of the other coffins like the one he had crawled out of. The thin line of light penetrating the room through a crack in the outside wall shone across it. He felt along the edges and found a small clasp that held the lid down. Afterwards he would wonder why he opened the other coffin, but at the time it was the only thing on his mind.

Pockets lifted the lid and its old hinges shrieked in the quiet of the darkness, setting his teeth on edge. In the dim illumination, he peered inside the coffin and nearly wet his pants. It was the skeleton of another anthro-raccoon like himself, but that wasn’t the thing that scared him. The coffin and the skeleton were obviously years old, but he recognized the garments as those that Tina had worn into the bar.

He felt faint, but managed to stay upright on his feet. His mind raced furiously.  Why was he here?  Why was he alive?  How could Tina have been with him last night if she had been dead for a long time?  He finally let his knees give away and he sat down hard on the stone floor.

The stream of light playing into the room filtered over him where he sat.  He looked down at himself and noticed his garments.  They weren’t his usual work coveralls with all the pockets in them, but he was dressed smartly in a completely black suit, minus any shoes. He stood up and moved more into the light and studied his clothing. They didn’t fit him exactly, being a little baggy, but he was also wearing what looked like a cape with a high collar.  Now he was really confused.

He looked up suddenly and glanced back at his open coffin.  Could it be true? he thought to himself.  Was he ... dead?

He walked around the small room toward the door of the mausoleum and gave it a hefty shove.  To his great surprise, it opened.  The sky was dark with heavy clouds and the light rain that fell seemed to be about to let up. Thunder rumbled in the distance. He couldn’t tell if it were morning or evening, only that there was enough light to see by.

Pockets was about to step out into the graveyard he faced, but the sound of a small sneeze surprised him.  He whirled around and faced the interior of the crypt again.

"Who’s there?" he croaked.  He didn’t receive an answer and peered up toward the ceiling where he thought the sound had originated.  As he stared into the dark corner, he thought he saw movement.  Another small sneeze came from the very spot he looked into. Upon closer look, it was only a small brown bat. Seeing the little creature made the hairs on the back of his neck tingle and gave him the drive to get out of there.  He turned to go, but heard a small voice call to him.

"Hey you, dead person!"

Pockets spun around and stared at the bat with his eyes wide.  "Uh, whu... what do you want?"

The little bat snickered and then flew down to a shelf close to the raccoon. "Take me with you."

"Uhm, isn't it supposed to be the other way around?" Pockets asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Aren't you my guide to lead me to my place in the afterlife?"

The tiny bat snickered again. "You are silly..."

Pockets grinned. "Yes, I have been called that in my time," he admitted. "Now, are you here to take me with you, or are you dead too, with us both doomed to haunt the locals?"

(unfinished)

(Original Project Synopsis) While on leave, Pockets wakes up inside a mausoleum with no memory of how he got there, and believes he is dead... or rather, the Undead. Despite that he is breathing, gets hungry and thirsty, his superstitious nature takes over and he convinces himself he is no longer among the living. With the help of a small bat (Trey Ata) inside the mausoleum, Pockets escapes the graveyard and makes his way back to the Horizon. Throughout the next voyage, he dresses in all black, wears a makeshift cape, and stays out of brightly lit rooms. He avoids garlic that Lorelei uses in some foods, and when he looks at someone, he stares intently. The crew is feeling creepy from his actions, and finally Merlin prompts Tanis to SHOW Pockets just how much alive he really is.