Myrikal

by Holli Anderson

  “I don’t know what he is, but he is definitely not like us.” She realized the irony of that statement as soon as it slipped across her tongue.

  Branch noticed it, too. “You aren’t like us either, Myri. More so than Cascus.” His fingers worked at a loose piece of bark on the tree.

  “But I’m human on the inside. He’s something else. Something green and oozy and nauseating…” She trailed off, not knowing how to describe it to him. Not knowing how to make him believe her.

  The chunk of bark broke off in Branch’s grip and he chucked it out over the roof of her small house, into the surrounding trees. “This is crap, Myrikal. I know that you don’t like him, but making stuff up is just ridiculous.”

  She’d already lost him. He couldn’t see what she saw and there was no way to convince him otherwise. She touched his arm and waited for him to look at her before speaking. The disgust in his eyes made her wince. “Branch,” she sighed, “I’m leaving. Come with me. We’ll find a new place. Make our own rules. Rules that don’t include killing anyone.”

  Branch’s face flushed red. Not the pink-tinged red of embarrassment, but the purplish red borne of anger and frustration. He stood, nearly toppling off the small roof, steadying himself against the thin upper trunk of the tree. “I can’t believe you,” his voice low and seething. “Cascus saved my life after your dad turned my clan into a pile of ashes. I was near starving with nowhere to go. I’d already fallen prey to the underbelly of the city. More than once…”

  “What do you…”

  His head spun in her direction. Spittle flew from his rage-filled face as he let loose on her. “What do I mean? Is that what you were going to ask? I mean that a young boy wandering the streets alone is a prime target for perverts and those illustrious entrepreneurs who make a living supplying them with young boys to… to do with as they please.” He slumped back down, his rear-end hitting the roof with a solid thud. Hiding his face in his arms folded atop his bent knees, his voice quavered as he mumbled, “Cascus saved me. From that.”

  Myri raised her hand to hover over his shoulder, wanting to comfort him but afraid to touch him. “Branch… I… I’m so sorry. I don’t…”

  “Just leave, Myri. Just go. You will never understand what it’s like to be vulnerable and helpless to someone stronger than you. I get it now. I understand why you refuse to accept that Cascus is a good man who only wants to rid the world of scum.” He raised his head to look her square in the eye, eyes sparking with disgust. “You don’t have to worry about being a victim so it isn’t important to you. It’s easy for you to say, ‘let them live’ because they can’t hurt you.”

  She dropped her hovering hand to her lap.

  With one last disgusted scowl, Branch looked away and whispered again, “Just leave.”

  She wiped a tear from her face. She waited several minutes after Branch climbed down from her treehouse before she swung down to the porch. She gathered a few things into her backpack, looked around one last time at the small home she’d built with her friends, and stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door softly behind her. She thought briefly about stopping by Alyssa’s to tell her good-bye, but decided against it.

  Myrikal stepped off the porch twenty feet above the ground, landing with a slight bend to her knees before taking off at a run. No idea where to go, she ran. Out of the city, across a crumbling bridge, farther away from Manhattan than she’d ever dreamed of going.

  The goggles hung limp around her neck as the clouds obscured even the faintest hint of light from the moon or stars. Myrikal had run at full speed for several hours. Every time her imagination wandered to the things Branch had been forced to endure after losing his first clan—bringing horrible pictures to her mind—an anguished scream would tear from her throat and she’d force a new burst of speed from her feet and legs.

  Dozens of miles farther from Manhattan than she’d ever been, she finally collapsed in a field overgrown with weeds and trees bent at odd angles. Truly alone in the world, she sat curled in upon herself, rocking back and forth like some of the crazies she’d seen in the underground tunnels. At least she wasn’t talking to herself yet. Not out loud, anyway.

  What was she doing? Where was she running to? She’d promised to teach Marcus how to use the gun. She should go back.

  Should she go back?

  What would Russ do if he found out she was no longer there to stop him? She knew what he’d do. The same thing he’d done her whole life. He’d kill people and get paid to do it. Unless Cascus caught him. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, convinced that both men were equally evil, but not comfortable with the thought of either of them doing away with the other.

  She had to go back. But not now. She needed some time to think. Laying her backpack on the pressed down weeds, she laid her head on it and closed her eyes, trying to push all thoughts from her mind.

  Myrikal’s eyes flew open but she stayed still where she lay. Something had awakened her. She held her breath, listening. The soft whoosh of rustling grass alerted her to the whereabouts of… something. Myri shot up to a crouch and turned to face the sound. She was met by a flurry of teeth, claws, and black fur. She grabbed the attacker by the fur and skin around its shoulders and flung the rawring animal away from her. A thunk and a rush of breath told her the animal had smashed into a tree. Fumbling for the goggles around her neck, Myri squinted in the cloud-covered morning sunlight streaming through the leaves above. She pushed the goggles in place, snapping the stretchable band beneath her hair at the back of her neck.

  A panther. A black panther.

  She approached the unmoving animal with caution. There had been the occasional wild animal sighting in Manhattan, but she’d never seen a real giant feline before. Her dad had explained to her that during and after the ‘quakes, the wild animals that had been kept captive in zoos and by eccentric rich people had all escaped. Most of them headed out of the city, away from all the people. Apparently, at least some of them had survived and multiplied. Myri knelt next to the large animal and pressed a hand to its chest. Blood dripped from its nostrils, matting the fur on its face.

  No up and down movement of a living creature drawing breath. Crashing into the tree had killed it instantly.

  “Oh,” Myri said, noticing the fullness of the cat’s teats. “You have babies somewhere. I’m so sorry.” She hung her head for a few seconds, devastated that she’d killed such a magnificent creature.

  A soft mewling caught Myri’s attention and she stood and moved toward the sound. It led her to a felled and decayed tree. She knelt before a crooked opening in the hollowed out trunk and reached inside. The invasion of her hand was met with a juvenile hiss and a swat from sharp claws. Myri gripped the edges of the opening on each side and ripped a bigger hole. A black ball of fur—about half the size of Dal’s German Shepherd—backed up, hunching its spine as its tail-end pushed against the rear of the hollowed trunk.

  Smiling for the first time in days, Myri laughed at the brave hissing fit of the small feline. She sat next to it, legs crossed in the tall grass. “I’m really sorry about your mom, little one. I can’t just leave you here to fend for yourself. I don’t think you’d last very long. You’re gonna’ have to accept me as a friend.” She reached for the cub, unconcerned with its teeth and claws, and spoke in a soft, soothing voice. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. We’re going to be friends. I’ll take care of you.”

  Myrikal ignored the cub’s vicious attack as its claws raked her impervious hands. She cradled it close to her chest until it wore itself out and fell asleep in her arms. Myri turned carefully, so as not to awaken her new reluctant friend, and leaned her back against the downed tree. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, enjoying the peace and quiet. She’d rarely been somewhere where there wasn’t constant noise and people nearby.

  The cub was warm against her chest. She smiled as it purred in its sleep. How was she going to feed her new charge? What did you feed
a panther cub who wasn’t yet quite weaned from its mom? Just under the surface of this new dilemma, lurked the sadness and rage from earlier. It was a good distraction, just not good enough to rid her mind completely of the pictures Branch’s words had put there.

  Eyes still closed, the cub scooted up to Myri’s shoulder and nestled its face into the crook of her neck. Its breath and whiskers tickled her skin, and she smiled again.

  Myri thought they must have sat like that for at least an hour. The cub’s purring and cuddling caused a calmness to fall over her such as she’d never felt. She even fell asleep for a short while, leaned up against the fallen tree.

  The calmness disappeared as soon as her young charge awoke, however. High-pitched cries of what Myri assumed to be hunger replaced the sweet little breaths and intermittent purrs. Myri stood, one arm wrapped around the wiggling cub. Time to figure out what to feed him. Or her. She lifted the cub in line with her eyes and moved its tail out of the way to have a peek. Him. She was pretty sure, anyway.

  She walked toward an area even thicker with trees and brush, listening as the soothing sound of water running down a creek bed delighted her ears. Her mind shifted to the time Branch had taken her fishing a million years ago. Back when they were young, before time and circumstances had changed everything. When a river creature had tried to bite Branch’s arm off.

  Fish. Cats eat fish. Right?

  “Okay, baby,” she said to the crying cub. “I think I know what to feed you for dinner. And I think I’ll officially name you Baby.” She rushed through the brush to the edge of the stream and followed it to a spot where it pooled before falling over some moss-covered logs blocking its path. “There should be some fish in here, don’t ya think?”

  The cub answered with a spitting hiss and a rake of his claws. He was in no mood for questions, it seemed. “Well, I guess we don’t have time to find supplies and fish like my friend taught me.” She couldn’t bring herself to say his name out loud. “I’ll have to improvise.”

  Not wanting the cub to wander off, Myrikal quickly threw together a small caged-in area using rocks. She hadn’t thought Baby could protest any louder until she put him inside the rock cage. “Wow. You really have some lungs on you.”

  Myri concentrated for a brief second. Electricity crackled from her fingertips and into the shallow pool of water, lighting it up with an ear-splitting crack. She tipped her head in a satisfied nod as the first of the fish floated to the surface, belly up.

  “Oh,” Myri exclaimed. She splashed into the knee-high water as the fish floated toward the little waterfall. The first one slipped past her, but she was able to scoop up the other five as they followed the current toward her.

  “I hope you’re hungry, Baby. I didn’t mean to zap this many.” She waded out of the pool and deposited her catch on the grass near the cub’s cage. He stopped mewling and sniffed the air, moving cautiously closer to Myri where she sat just outside the rock prison. He sniffed again, then started in with more desperate crying while he clawed his way up the quickly constructed barrier.

  “Okay, I get it. You’re hungry.” She pulled her backpack to her and dug inside for her knife. The blade glinted in the sparse sunlight as she pulled it from its protective sheath. She grabbed a fish by the tail and scraped the scales off, unsure of the best way to feed it to the cub. She filleted a slice of meat from the side of the fish and cut it into bite-sized pieces atop a flat-ish rock.

  Setting the knife aside, Myrikal reached for Baby. If they were going to be friends, she was sure the first step would be for him to associate her with feeding time. She held him close to her chest and grabbed a chunk of meat from the rock, holding it under his nose. A pink tongue flicked out and snagged the fish. Myri laughed as he chomped, probably swallowing it more intact than not.

  He mewled, ready for more. They sat near the stream, Myri feeding him from her hand, until he’d finished off the first round of chopped fish and almost all of the second round. His belly bowed out where it rested against her arm. Her mouth twitched at the corners as she watched him lick his paws and clean his whiskers.

  Baby took a short nap on Myri’s lap before waking up ready to play. As he ran around attacking her from different angles, rolling away from her when he tripped over his too-big paws, she thought about how easy it’d been to gain his trust. It was all about food and feeling safe. Not so different from people. Not so different from the children she’d saved.

  Myri frowned. She’d promised Marcus she’d teach him how to use the gun she’d taken from his sister’s captor. She would like to check on Dal and Chansong, too, to make sure they were doing okay with Changsong’s clan. Maybe she shouldn’t wait to go back. After her conversation with Branch, she couldn’t deny that people did horrible things to children if they knew they could get away with it. She should go back. At least for a day or so. She’d make it known that anyone wishing to harm a child would have dire consequences.

  Isn’t that what Cascus is trying to do? Bring some order and consequences to Manhattan? Myri shook her head. That’s what Branch and the others thought. But Myri couldn’t shake the strong feeling that Cascus had ulterior motives. She didn’t know what those motives were, she just knew they were bad.

  Mind made up to go back, she filleted and cut up the rest of the fish then cooked it on a heated rock, thinking it would keep better if cooked. She filled her canteen with water from the stream and waited for Baby as he lapped up his fill from the pool. Baby sniffed around in the grass to find the perfect spot to do his business. While he crouched there, Myri changed out of her lightning unitard and into normal clothes. She made room for Baby in the backpack, folding the slick rayon outfit and laying it on top of the odds and ends in the bottom of the bag.

  “All right, little dude.” She scooped him off the ground and settled him into his new carrier, leaving the zipper open so he could poke his head out. “Let’s go check on the kids.”

  Not wanting to jiggle Baby around too much, Myri walked back at a pace much slower than the frantic speed with which she’d fled the city the day before. Having a young cub to care for required frequent stops to feed, water, and allow him potty breaks and frolicking time. They were still quite some distance away from their destination as night fell. Worried that he might wander off, Myri tied a thin rope around Baby’s neck then tied the other end to her wrist, then laughed at his histrionics when he felt the leash tug on him.

  Mad at her, Baby laid down to sleep as far from her as the rope would allow. He growled low in his throat as he chewed on his restraint. His need for warmth or fear of being out in the open conquered his irritation, as he soon belly-crawled over to Myri and curled up next to her, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.

  A crash of thunder brought Myrikal and her charge abruptly awake. Baby’s black hair stood on end all over his body, his ears plastered against his head, and his green eyes opened impossibly wide as he clawed at her skin. A rush of intense, unexplainable joy surged through Myri. She tucked Baby partially into the backpack and, leaving it on the ground, jumped to her feet, face turned up to the blackened sky.

  She rushed to a small clearing just as the skin on her bare arms started to tingle, the tiny hairs standing at attention. She stretched her arms out wide to the sides and, just as she’d done outside Branch’s compound on the day she’d left her dad, she called the lightning to her, accepting the bolts of pure electricity in through her hands. Accepting the pure exultation into her heart. Into her soul, as it connected with her at the level of the atoms that made up her being. She’d never felt so strong or so alive as the lightning continued to pulse into her, longer than any lightning strike she’d ever been witness to.

  Was that because of her? Was she now causing the lightning to continue pouring from the sky? When the pulsing in her head told her she’d reached full capacity, she released the electricity with a deep exhale of breath. The dark clouds lit up for a brief time as they took back what she’d pulled from the
m.

  Hands clenched at her sides, Myrikal closed her eyes and lowered her head, remnants of static electricity buzzing through her frizzed-out hair. She inhaled deeply and held the breath in, wanting the feeling to last.

  Incessant meowing and ripping noises coming from her backpack broke the spell. Myri released the held breath and ran her hands over her hair, trying to tame it somewhat. She smiled as she glanced at the backpack where Baby had crawled out and now had one of the straps in his jaws, yanking it around like a whip. He was probably hungry. And they should be on their way back to Manhattan.

  Myrikal pulled on the backpack, but Baby refused to let go. The ferocious young panther finally released his grip when his feet no longer touched the ground, rolling gracefully on the grass before landing in a crouch. Myri laughed, wondering if her still slightly sparking hair matched the hair standing on end along Baby’s spine.

  She held a handful of dried fish out to him, happy that, after a slight hesitation, he ate it right out of her hand. “Alright little one. Let’s get on the road. We should be able to make it to the city by lunchtime.”

  Myrikal scooped up an exhausted Baby and settled him into the backpack, his head and shoulders extending out the top. He’d galloped and played alongside her most of the way, wearing himself out by the time they reached the outskirts of Manhattan. Her stomach lurched in small stops and starts as she neared the tall buildings. She desperately hoped not to run into anyone from Cascus’s clan. Or her father.

  Luckily, the Repopulation Clan’s compound was near the edge of the city where few people ventured. Myri knocked on the gate. She could easily have climbed over the surrounding wall, but thought knocking would be better received by the leaders. Chansong’s mom peeked around the edge, peering through the iron slats. Recognition blossomed on her weathered face and her eyes crinkled up into a smile.