by L. S. O'Dea
Sikka and Nirankan nodded their agreement.
“We kill Guards. Then find Gaar-Mine,” said Mirra.
“I think we should locate Gaar first.” She didn’t want to be responsible for any more deaths.
“No,” said Mirra.
“What if they took him somewhere else? If you kill the Guards, they can’t tell us.”
Mirra shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, swaying precariously on the ledge. She opened her eyes, worry visible in her gaze. “Gaar-Mine here. Mirra feel him. He scared. Hurt. Mirra must help.” She dropped to the ground.
“Mirra, wait,” she called out as loud as she dared.
Mirra ignored her and continued walking. One-by-one the other Trackers followed until she was left standing alone on the stone wall.
The Trackers moved stealthily through the surrounding brush. As they approached the camp, crashing noises came out of the building farthest from the Guards’ building. The Handlers must be able to smell the Trackers. They were enemies unless bonded. Hopefully, the Handlers were well secured or this could go bad fast.
The five Trackers started toward the Handler building. A low hum reverberated from Mirra’s chest. Two of the Trackers stopped, the other three kept walking toward the building. Mirra’s hum became a warning growl. The other three Trackers turned back to face her. She stared them down, teeth bared and hair raised on her back. Crazy’s lip curled but he followed the others back the way they had come. Mirra snarled once more and then continued toward the Guards’ building. She motioned and the Trackers spread out, circling the structure.
A Guard stepped out of the building, pulling on his jacket. “Count me out of this hand. I’ll be back as soon as I shut up those stupid Handlers.” He stopped dead in his tracks with his jacket on one arm and the door open behind him.
“Close the door,” yelled a Guard from inside.
The first Guard stood frozen in place, as Mirra raced forward in a blur of movement. She flew past the Guard on his right and continued to the side of the building.
From her view on the wall, it appeared as if Mirra had left the Guard unharmed until he placed his hand against his stomach. Blood poured from between his fingers. Eyes wide he moved his hand. His intestines spilled out in front of him. He grasped at his innards, trying to put them back into his body as he crumpled to the ground. His body twitched and then lay still.
“What the...” yelled a Guard from inside.
Four Guards raced out the door, surrounding their dead companion.
That was a mistake.
Mirra, Nirankan and another Tracker closed in from three sides. The Guards collided as they tried to get back into the building, and the Trackers pounced. Trinity turned her head. She didn’t need to see this. The screams were enough. Their fear and pain were almost visible from the noise. Was this what it sounded like when Producers were slaughtered? Did her baby brother, Adam, cry like that? She clenched her jaw and turned back to watch.
All the Trackers had moved in for the kill. Mirra and Nirankan stood back from the others, who were kneeling amongst the carcasses, tearing off hunks and eating. It reminded her of the Cold Creepers.
Mirra swallowed something and then licked her claws clean of blood. When she was done, she and Nirankan walked toward the Handler building. Sikka stuffed a chunk of Guard into her mouth and followed, chewing. The other five stayed to gorge themselves.
She couldn’t let them go into the building alone. There was no telling what they’d do to the Handlers, or what the Handlers might do to them.
“Wait, Mirra. I’m coming with you,” she hollered. With the Guards dead, there was no need to be quiet.
She positioned herself so that she hung over the wall and then dropped to the ground. It was a long fall. Her legs reverberated from the impact and she stumbled. She regained her balance and raced toward Mirra, who stood tapping her foot on the ground. Mirra was not happy.
As she ran toward the feasting Trackers, Crazy stopped eating and stood. He flexed his muscles. She veered away from him. He took two steps in her direction. She ran faster. He bared his teeth, but looked past her at Mirra. He lowered his head fractionally and moved back toward the dead Guards, sending her one last hungry glance before dropping to all fours to resume feeding.
She stopped in front of Mirra. “I think I should go in first.”
“No,” said Mirra.
Mirra was too proud to listen to others often. She had to handle this correctly. “They are not bonded with any of you. They’ll fight you. They won’t fight me.”
“No, they eat you,” said Mirra.
Mirra had a point. “No, they won’t because you’ll be waiting out here. If you hear anything, you can come in and protect me. They won’t speak with you. You are their enemy. They might talk to me.”
“She right,” said Sikka. “They fight us.”
“No,” said Mirra. “No safe. They kill her like...” She snapped her fingers.
Mirra’s assessment of her survival abilities was not flattering, but unfortunately, it was true. She forged on with her argument anyway. “It’s not going to work if the three of you barge in there. They’ll think it’s an attack.”
“Mirra, go with Little One.”
There was a stubborn glint in the Tracker’s eyes. She sighed in resignation. This was the best offer she’d get and truthfully, she didn’t want to go in there alone anyway. “Okay, but I go first.”
Mirra nodded toward the building.
She opened the door and stepped inside. The smell of rotting flesh and fear slapped her in the face and she unconsciously took a step back, bumping into Mirra’s chest.
“Death live here,” whispered Mirra, a slight tremor in her voice.
Trinity held her hand to her nose. This was even worse than the Producer Finishing Camp. “I’m gonna be sick.”
Mirra rolled her eyes and started to step around her. She couldn’t let the Tracker go first. She grabbed Mirra’s arm, stopping her. She swallowed hard, trying to breathe through her mouth as she went farther into the building. The room was cavernous. Chains hung from the ceiling and small cages sat alongside the far wall. There was a pile of something to the right. Probably, the dead things judging by the flies that gathered there.
“Is there anything living in here?” she asked.
Mirra looked through the darkness. She focused on the cages. She cocked her head and pointed to the one on the end. “There.”
They carefully made their way across the room. Trinity stopped a few feet away from the pile of dead things. They were Handlers. There must have been over a dozen. Mirra nudged her in the back and she started walking again, trying to keep her eyes from straying to the dead Handlers. She refused to focus on the faces. Gaar was not in there. Mirra had said that he was still alive. They couldn’t be too late. They just couldn’t. She crouched in front of the cage. A male Handler huddled in the corner, his breath coming in short rasps.
“Kill me,” he begged. “Do it quick.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
He laughed a hoarse, harsh sound. A tiny bubble of blood formed and then burst at the corner of his mouth. “Dying.”
“Who did this to you?” She glanced at Mirra who studied him without any emotion.
“Guards,” he said.
“What can I do to help?”
“Kill me,” he said. “I’m done for anyway.”
He didn’t mean it. Not really. Nothing wanted to die. She turned to Mirra.
Mirra shrugged.
“A Tracker. He said he bonded. I didn’t believe him.”
“You know Gaar? Where is he?” she asked.
He coughed and more blood flew out of his mouth. “Other building. He made it through his torture. They’re coming back for me.” His eyes pleaded with her. “Don’t let them find me alive.”
“The Guards are gone. The Trackers took care of them,” she said.
“Best news I’ve heard in a while.” He tried to sit and fell back.
“We go. Find Gaar-Mine,” said Mirra as she turned away.
“We can’t leave him like this.”
“He no my problem.” Mirra continued toward the door.
“He’s a Handler. Like Gaar. You can’t leave him.” She pulled on the cage door but it was locked.
“Over there.” He motioned toward the set of keys hanging on the wall.
She retrieved them and unlocked the door. It opened smoothly. It was well used. She stepped inside and bent to pull him up but he was too heavy.
“Please,” he said. “I’m dying. Just finish me off.”
She tugged on him again. She couldn’t kill him. It would be merciful, but she couldn’t do it. She took a deep breath and pulled on his arm, trying to drag him. He shifted a little. This was never going to work. She couldn’t leave him. She touched the knife at her side and stared into his eyes. They were black like Gaar’s.
Mirra shoved her out of the way and drug the Handler out of the cage by his arm. “Big heart cause Little One trouble one day.”
Mirra may be right, but she couldn’t just stop caring for other creatures. She’d always been that way, even as a child she’d taken care of birds and animals that needed help.
Mirra lifted the Handler over her shoulder and carried him out of the building. She followed closely behind. Once outside the building, Sikka and Nirankan trotted over to them.
“Put him over there.” Trinity pointed to a large tree. “In the shade.”
Mirra propped him against the trunk.
“Water,” she said. “Get him some water.”
Mirra nodded her consent to the Trackers. Sikka went inside the Guards’ building and returned with a bottle of water. Trinity took it from Sikka and held it to his lips. He tried to swallow but most dribbled out the side of his mouth.
“This you Handler?” asked Nirankan.
“No. Gaar-Mine there.” Mirra pointed to the other building.
Trinity set the empty bottle on the ground. “I’ll be back as soon as we find Gaar,” she said to the Handler. She turned to Mirra. “Make sure he’s kept safe.” She pointedly looked at Sikka and Nirankan.
Mirra shrugged. “Don’t kill.”
“Can’t. He dead,” said Nirankan.
She turned back to the Handler. In that split second his life had passed. So quick, so quiet. What had he been like? Had he ever been free? Was his life only torture and pain or had there been some happiness?
“Come,” said Mirra, pulling her toward the building. “We find Gaar-Mine.”
At the door, she glanced back at the dead Handler. She didn’t know him. She shouldn’t feel anything, and yet, she did. They’d met briefly but his death was senseless. The Almightys couldn’t keep doing this to other creatures. It wasn’t right.
CHAPTER 44
AS TRINITY FOLLOWED Mirra inside the second building at the Handler Camp, the stench of unwashed bodies, waste and blood wafted over her. She wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t pleasant but at least it wasn’t death. Cages stood along the walls. They were larger than the ones in the other building and there were openings at the back that led to the outside pens. The sunless room made it hard to see clearly, but there was movement in some of the enclosures.
The whisper of “A Tracker” sounded from cage to cage, followed by, “Loose” or “Free.”
“Gaar,” she called out. “Are you here?”
“Over here,” said Gaar, his voice a harsh whisper.
Mirra reached the cage first. “Gaar-Mine.”
“Mirra.” Gaar dragged himself over to the front of the cage, sticking his hand through the bars to stroke her fur.
“Gaar!” Trinity skidded to a halt in front of him.
“Little One.” Kneeling, he hugged her with one arm while still petting Mirra. “How?” he asked, choking on the word.
Tears pooled in her eyes. His face was swollen and bruised from beatings. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you once we get you out of here.” She fidgeted with the door. It was locked, of course. “Where are the keys?”
“Mirra no need keys.” Mirra grabbed the lock and pulled. The metal bars began to bend but the lock held steady.
Gaar grabbed the Tracker’s hand. “Wait. Don’t hurt yourself.”
Mirra gave one last tug and then stopped, panting.
“I assume you already took care of the Guards,” he said.
“Yes.” Mirra smiled, showing large, sharp teeth.
“They have the keys on them. Usually, the smallest Guard carries them. He is...was the Lead Guard.”
“Mirra, the other Trackers—”
“You brought the Trackers here?” whispered Gaar, glancing at the other cages.
“Yes. Mirra set free. They follow Mirra.”
“That is not good.” Gaar sat back on the ground. “These Handlers and those Trackers haven’t been bred right. They haven’t learned to tolerate each other.”
“It fine,” said Mirra. “Trackers obey me. I command.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Mirra shrugged. “Handlers in cages.”
“We aren’t leaving them,” said Gaar, his eyes narrowing.
“Of course not. Just like we couldn’t leave the Trackers, we can’t leave the Handlers.” This was not the time for an argument between the two.
“You want everything free. Eat nothing.” Mirra huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Mirra, go and find the keys. While you’re gone Gaar can talk to the Handlers and you can talk to the Trackers. If the Handlers want to be turned loose, they’ll have to agree not to attack the Trackers and you can make the Trackers listen to you.”
“You bossy.” Mirra slapped her somewhat playfully on the back of her head and headed out the door.
“That hurt.” She rubbed her skull.
“So, that was your Tracker?” asked the Handler in the cage next to Gaar.
“Yes, and this is my friend, Trinity. Trinity this is Emmanuel.”
“Hi,” she said cautiously. Emmanuel’s presence was menacing. It wasn’t anything he did, but more a vibe that emanated from him.
“And what are you?” Emmanuel studied her, his nostrils quivering.
“I’m a Producer,” she said.
“And House Servant,” added Gaar.
“You look like a tasty, little treat.” Emmanuel rested his forehead on the bars of the cage, leering at her and showing brownish, yellow teeth.
“She’s my friend,” said Gaar. “Off the menu.”
“I’ll eat anything, but if she sets us free, I promise to make her an exception,” said Emmanuel.
Gaar laughed. If this was Handler humor, she didn’t find it funny. Maybe, it was because she didn’t quite believe Emmanuel.
Mirra came back and unlocked Gaar’s cage. They helped him to his feet. He favored his right side and had a slight limp but other than that he seemed okay.
“There is another building,” said Gaar. “It’s where—”
“We were there first,” she said. “They were all dead except one. He told us where to find you.”
“Petarvarius? Where is he? They were still working him over when they drug me out of there.”
“I’m sorry.” It was hard to lose a friend.
Gaar’s shoulders slumped.
“He you friend?” asked Mirra.
“He helped me when they first brought me here. He was the leader around here. Wild born like us,” said Gaar.
“Are there others who are wild born?” she asked. “They may be able to help—”
“No. He was the last besides me.”
It was hard to be different, but at least there were others somewhat like him. The Handlers in the cages moved silently in the shadows, blending in with the gray light that filtered into the room. Pacing and watching. She shivered. She couldn’t imagine a forest where these creatures and Trackers roamed free, but that would soon be a reality.
“Mirra, are the Trackers in agreement?�
� asked Gaar.
“They no attack. They only defend.”
“That’s all I can ask.” Gaar took the key and stepped up to Emmanuel’s cage.
“Wait,” she said. One wrong move and this situation would combust. There had to be a better way. “I think you should bring the Trackers in here first. Let them all meet each other through the safety of the cages.”
Gaar and Mirra looked at each other.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he said.
“I bring Trackers,” said Mirra.
“You should get in the cage, Little One. Just in case. This may not go well. These”—he looked around—“Handlers are not like me. They’ve never known anything but this...this place with all its pain and torture. They hate the Trackers. That’s all they know.”
She was going to argue but by the set of his jaw it wouldn’t do any good. She frowned as the cage door shut. She was sick of being caged. If she made it through this, she would never set foot in one again. Gaar snapped the lock closed.
Mirra sauntered into the building with the seven other Trackers. They glided across the floor, hissing and showing their fangs as they passed the enclosures. The Handlers rushed the bars, baring their teeth at the Trackers.
“This Handler, mine,” said Mirra, drawing all eyes toward her. She placed her hand on Gaar’s shoulder. “You touch him, I kill you.”
Nirankan and Sikka bowed their heads to Gaar. He bowed back. The other five circled him. He didn’t move, not even when the Trackers were behind him. Mirra stood next to him, and as the Trackers circled them, Mirra and Gaar’s breathing synced up and they seemed to communicate on another level. One of the Trackers stepped too close and they both turned their head in unison, as if the same muscles controlled them. They’d become almost one creature. The Tracker stepped back and bowed to Mirra and then to Gaar. One-by-one the others followed suit; even Crazy eventually stopped circling and bowed.
Trinity let out a sigh of relief. Mirra and Gaar were tough but they couldn’t fight off seven or even five Trackers since she didn’t think Nirankan and Sikka would fight Mirra. They’d probably just watch like they had at the Tracker camp.
