by COE 3. 1. 0
The two men fought on.
But oh, they were both magnificent. As the fight wore on, the daggers began to make nicks in their gleaming, sweaty flesh. Felicity winced each time Oliver got a cut on his skin. The two men wrestled, punched, kicked and stabbed. There were plenty of blows exchanged. Plenty of wrestling and pushing back. Despite Oliver’s torture yesterday, he was holding up pretty well. Perhaps it was all that adrenaline.
But no one had the upper hand.
And then the bell rang. Felicity’s heart was in her mouth.
Jim shifted. Oliver crouched, tense, waiting for this exact moment. He couldn’t shift, Felicity thought. His genes were too recessive, and he didn’t have the time or proper training to shift before all this was laid down on him.
Please, let Jim be merciful!
Jim transformed into a large black wolf and sprang at the very human Oliver.
Felicity’s heart stopped. Was this the moment Oliver would die?
As the wolf sailed an arc into the air, Oliver waited, unmoving. The wolf’s teeth were bared, and he was about to crash onto Oliver. At the last second, Oliver tumbled away. The wolf hit the ground with a mighty thud. Clods of earth spattered.
Oliver rolled to his feet and jumped onto the wolf’s back.
“No, Oliver, no!” she whimpered.
Oliver raised his right fist and plunged the dagger into the wolf’s back. The wolf howled and trashed. Oliver flew off.
The wolf shook himself. The wounding did not seem to slow him down as he sprang for Oliver again.
Oh no, Felicity thought. Jim is mad and he’s not going to show Oliver any mercy.
The wolf and Oliver tussled on the ground, an amalgam of fur and flesh. Felicity was so filled with dread that she was completely numb now. They rolled, man and beast. The dagger flashed and disappeared amongst the flailing limbs. It was not possible that Oliver could defeat such an animal, because the wolf was easily twice as huge as an ordinary wolf.
And then the wolf howled once. Oliver turned him on his side and Felicity could clearly see the dagger buried in its guts. Felicity’s hand flew to her mouth. The wolf began to metamorphose back into Jim’s human form.
Finally, a fully human Jim lay there, the knife buried in his abdomen.
Oliver got to his feet warily. He glanced at Will and Erasmus.
“Finish it,” Will said. “You have earned it.”
Oliver stood proud and tall. His chest heaved. Even though he was streaked with blood and dirt and stalks of grass, he looked stronger and fitter than he had when he first had entered the fray. All Felicity could think of was ‘Thank God, Thank God’, a mantra which resounded like a gong in her head.
Oliver raised his blue eyes and said, “I won’t finish it. You better get him some medical attention or he’ll die. I never intended that anyone should die today.”
All the men were silent.
Then two of them came out and went to the wounded Jim, who was groaning, and picked him up.
Will said, “You’d better get ready again then, because now it’s our turn.”
33
Felicity felt as though she was on a rollercoaster. Jim had hardly been taken off the field when Erasmus went up to Oliver and Will again.
But he hasn’t had time to rest, she wanted to scream.
“Call it,” Erasmus said to Will.
“Heads.”
The coin spun in the air. Felicity closed her eyes. Please . . . let it be tails.
When she opened them again, the coin had landed on Erasmus’s palm.
“Heads,” he said.
A shudder of dread passed through her. There was no way Oliver could best Will in anything, she knew.
Will walked up to the weapons and picked up the twin swords.
“Let’s see how you fare with swords, kid.”
If Oliver was apprehensive, he did not show it. He chose two of the swords and hefted them as if he was an expert. The two men faced each other, the animosity tangible between them. You could explode the air with a lighted match.
“On the count of three . . . one, two, three – ”
Will struck with an upraised stroke even before Erasmus finished talking. Oliver parried the blow with a cross made by his two swords. Will followed with a thrust made by his other sword arm. Oliver twisted his body away in time. But Will stroked again, and Oliver had to quickly parry the thrust.
The clang of steel was sharp in the air. With each expert thrust of Will’s blade, Felicity winced as though she felt the prick herself. The next few moments were agonizing for Oliver. Will was obviously a swordsman, and he used his superior skill to beat Oliver back. It was all Oliver could do to fend off each mighty blow of Will’s twin swords.
“He’ll kill him,” Felicity whispered. “Can’t he ask for quarter?”
“No. Even if he did, Will would not give it to him.”
She was amazed that Oliver could tarry for so long. She expected him to be killed at any moment. It was either be killed now by the swords or be killed later when Will turned into a wolf, though he had to be wary of what Oliver could do with a blade by now.
But still, Oliver was weakening. Will’s onslaught was brutal and merciless. His sword slashed at Oliver’s body and nicked him in the side. Oliver bled. He spun around and tried to parry another one of Will’s sword thrusts, but Will’s blade tore a gash on his chest.
“No,” whimpered Felicity.
Erasmus held on to her hand tightly. “It won’t be long now,” he murmured.
Will continued to wound Oliver. A slash to Oliver’s bicep opened up a deep wound which ran a rivulet of blood down his arm.
“Please,” Felicity begged, “stop them.”
“I can’t. Your boyfriend knew what he was in for when he accepted the challenge.”
But he’s a foolish youth who doesn’t know any better, she wanted to say. He only did it to protect me!
Oliver was kneeling on the ground now, trying to stem off the onslaught. He was severely weakening. He was being beaten down. Her heart wrenched. Was that what he was trying to convey to her?
Felicity, I love you. Goodbye.
Then the unseen bell rang.
*
But Will did not transform. He still stood over Oliver, his twin swords poised for the kill.
“You have any last words to say, boy?” he rasped. “Because I will kill you, make no mistake about it.”
Oliver’s face was very flushed. The various wounds on his sweaty body were bleeding. He darted a glance at Felicity. His chest was heaving with exertion.
“Then you’ll have to kill me,” he said. “Like this.”
His body began to transform. His hands morphed into paws and he dropped the swords. His skin sprouted fur and his skull became something very feline.
Feline. Not canine.
With a roar, Will’s sword arms descended to cleave the animal Oliver had become on the skull. But Oliver rolled away at top speed. When he got up, he was no longer human but a fully-fledged, larger-than-normal black panther.
But oh, but he was so lean and beautiful! His fur was so black that it practically gleamed in the sun.
Will smiled. “Excellent. Panthers aren’t common, and there was a rumor they had died out some time ago. But here you are. And I will still kill you where you stand, boy.”
The panther roared his challenge, and sprang at Will.
Will held up his swords to spear the panther. But the panther feinted at the last moment. One of the swords still slashed through the panther’s side, but the panther twisted his body and his jaws whipped and clamped onto Will’s left shoulder.
Will gave a cry. His left arm dropped the sword.
The panther did not stop there. As Will dove in for the counterstrike with his right sword arm, the panther went for the jugular.
Blood sprayed into the air. Felicity clapped her hand to her mouth. Will fell down, mowed by the panther.
“Oliver, no!” Felicity cried.
<
br /> Erasmus gripped her hand. “He must do what he must.”
“But he’s not a killer. Not really. He has never really killed anyone but the mutants before.”
“The mutants are still alive. Though barely.”
But what if Oliver was no longer Oliver in his feral state? What if his mind was mangled somehow and he wasn’t human any longer? Was he fully animal now? Could he even stop if he wanted to?
She had to give it her best shot. Wrenching off Erasmus’s hand, she bolted from her chair and ran to the panther and Will.
“Felicity, don’t!” Erasmus cried. “He may be dangerous.”
“Not to me. Never to me.”
She slowed down, and the panther looked up. Its eyes were very blue. Its muzzle dripped with blood. Will had dropped both his swords and his hands were at his throat, trying to stem the geysering blood.
“Oliver . . . please . . . don’t do this. Don’t kill him.”
The panther stared at her, and she could see the intelligence in his eyes.
“Oliver.” Her voice dropped. “Please . . . this isn’t you. Hold back . . . please.”
The panther took a step back and its body shuddered all over. When Felicity saw that Oliver was no longer going to ravage his victim, she swiftly turned to Erasmus.
“Please, this man needs help!”
Several men ran towards them. The panther did not move as they carted Will away. Neither did Felicity. They both just locked eyes with each other. It was as if the world had frozen around them.
“You did it,” Felicity whispered. “You saved us.”
The panther raised his head.
And then was when the arrow struck his chest.
34
Felicity was so shocked that she froze for a moment. The panther yowled, but stood his ground. Another arrow flew and hit its mark in the panther’s flank. The panther shook and collapsed to the ground.
Felicity spun.
Erasmus lowered the bow.
“Those were our orders,” he said. “If the alpha is taken down, we will not accept any other alpha usurper who is anything but a wolf.”
“No!” Felicity cried as he raised the bow again and nocked another arrow.
You were nice to me, and I thought you were a good guy!
She planted herself firmly in the trajectory of the arrow, shielding the downed panther, who was rapidly turning back into a very wounded and bleeding Oliver. Erasmus’s arrow was pointed straight at her.
“I don’t want to have to hurt you, Felicity. I won’t kill you, but I won’t want to hurt you either. Get out of the way.”
“No!”
She raised her hand, the blood rushing in her ears.
And just pushed.
It came naturally, this reaching out with her mind. Like tentacles or feelers.
Erasmus’s bow caught fire. He gave a cry of surprise and dropped it. Then he was on fire. Felicity was only semi-aware of Oliver writhing on the ground behind her and the men around them being stunned, or running towards Erasmus and away from Erasmus.
This force – this power – that consumed her came in a barrage now, a rapidly building tide. She wasn’t sure if she could rein it in if she wanted to.
The grass now caught fire. The breeze fanned the flames into a frenzy. All around them, men were running away, perhaps to get a water hose to douse the fire. I have to stop this, a little voice inside her head told her. But the source within her was too overwhelming. I have been denied this for too long. And all that penned-up anger and terror and frustration and sense of helplessness were now unleashed onto the unsuspecting world.
So this is what my mutation is all about.
“Felicity.”
She heard the voice as though it was from far away. Her brain was throbbing and her vision wore a red veil. The flames were spreading, and everywhere she turned, a new gust of fire appeared.
“Felicity.” It was Oliver’s voice. And it was filled with love and heartbreak and pain.
She blinked. There were tears in her eyes – tears of futility and despair.
“Please . . . stop this,” he said again.
She looked down at him and saw him for what he was. Broken. Bleeding. And needing her help.
She felt the tide recede like a sluice being slowly squeezed into a trickle. All around them, the ground was burning. The men were trying to create firebreaks so that the flames would not spread to the house.
“Oliver!” she cried. “You’re hurt.”
An arrow was embedded in his chest, and another in his flank. He gripped the one in his chest and tried to pull it out.
“Don’t! Let me do it,” she said.
Gritting her teeth, she gripped the arrow and pulled it out, wondering if she was making a mistake by doing so. Oliver cried out. She did the same to the other arrow before she could overthink it. The moment Oliver’s arrows came out, blood seeped into the entry wounds.
“We have to get you out of here,” she cried.
“Yes.” He was very weak.
“Can you walk?”
“I’ll have to.”
She helped him up. She was thankful she was still a large woman even though she had lost considerable weight, and she was able to let him lean on her shoulders. Her fear gave her strength, and together, they hobbled away from the burning grounds and the house.
No one followed them. Perhaps they already reckoned that she would burn them alive.
It was agonizing, but they eventually made their way out of the grounds. They found a stalled car which still had its keys in the ignition and made their way as far from here as possible.
EPILOGUE
Felicity looked out of the window into the wide expanse of the countryside. The sun was shining and the fast mutants were probably around somewhere. As were the wolves. But the farmhouse was fortified and it provided all the amenities they could ask for.
Anyhow, she wasn’t afraid anymore. She wasn’t a helpless individual who needed someone to save her. She never had been, even when she didn’t have any powers. She realized that now.
Oliver wasn’t helpless in this brave and bizarre new world either. He never had been. Together, she realized how formidable they were. So they survived the cataclysm because of their genetic quirks. So he was a panther shifter. He now shifted with ease and went for hunts to find fresh food for them – something that didn’t have to be eaten out of deep freeze or a can.
They had explored their newfound abilities with trepidation at first, and then with confidence. She wasn’t afraid of setting things on fire anymore. He wasn’t afraid of reining back.
That was why they had decided, after a year of living together as man and wife – bonded by the vows they took by themselves under the watchful sun – to have a baby.
Yes, it was a momentous decision. Yes, they admitted they were too hasty previously in deciding not to bring children into the world. Because the werewolves made them see how precious new life was in re-growth and renewal. And hope.
Always hope.
Their baby would carry both their genes. Perhaps he or she would be a fire-starter. Perhaps he or she would be a panther. Or perhaps a little bit of both.
Oliver came from behind her and put his arms around her swollen belly.
“Hello, beautiful Mama.”
“Hello, my handsome husband.”
“What’re you doing up so early? Care to join me back in bed?”
“And wake the baby doing what?” she teased.
“He won’t know a thing.”
“She might.”
“I’m sure he won’t wake up one day when he’s twenty-two and ask, ‘Mom and Dad, what were you doing on the morning of . . . what date is it today?”
“I forget. But we get to remake our own world calendar, something we’ll tell our daughter.”
“Yeah . . . our world,” he agreed. “We’re like Noah and his kin coming out of the ark.”
She turned and pressed her belly against him. “I t
hought we were more like Adam and Eve.”
“Really? Because I have a sudden craving for apples. And original sin.”
She laughed and he bent his head down to kiss her.
“I love you,” he said with feeling.
“And I love you.”
Together, they wrapped their arms around each other and went back to their bedroom.
Dear Reader, thank you so much for reading this story.
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