The Last Panther

by Todd Mitchell

  Da took her temperature with the same thermometer Kiri used to test the temperature of the waves. The metal rod tasted salty from the ocean. After checking it twice, her da recorded her temperature in his logbook. “You need to stay in bed,” he told her. “Get plenty of rest. I don’t want you going out at all tomorrow, Kiribati.”

  Kiri closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, but real sleep wouldn’t come. She dozed in a restless way, listening to the sounds of her da working in the room below. He put together some more equipment and left—probably to reset the trap she’d sprung. He hadn’t scolded her for setting off the trap or taking the meat, so Kiri figured she hadn’t been spotted by the vid eye. Her da must have thought a rat or a python or some other small animal had stolen the meat.

  Around midnight, Martin finally returned and climbed to the loft to get some sleep. Kiri was delirious with thirst. For the past hour or so she’d felt like she was floating near the ceiling, not entirely connected to her body anymore. She wanted to get a drink and clear her head, but she didn’t want her da to know she was still awake. As soon as she thought about moving, though, the marks on her shoulder and cheek began to itch again. Or rather, the sensation started as an itch, then became a hot, prickling tingle, like a thousand tiny crabs pinching her, urging her to move.

  She shut her eyes and tried to focus on other things. Images of the ghost forest scrolled through her head, almost as if she were sprinting through the woods. She pictured herself running along the fence line, desperate to find a way to cross so she could get to the coast. Then she turned inland and darted through the underbrush, barely making a sound until she reached the dark cypress ponds in the swamp. Leaning over the edge of the pond to drink, she saw her reflection in the moonlight. Only it wasn’t her reflection. Two fiery green eyes blinked back at her, set in a round, fur-covered face.

  Panther eyes.

  Panthers hunt at night.

  Kiri startled awake. She was in her bed again, but she didn’t feel completely there anymore. The tingling prickle of the devi marks kept urging her to move. She pushed off the blankets and crawled to the ladder.

  Snowflake was sound asleep in his nest. Kiri decided not to wake him. The poor little rat would never willingly leave her, but he was probably worn out from getting bounced around in her hood all day. She wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

  She hurried down the ladder and out of the stilt house, just like she’d done the other night, only quieter this time—swift as a panther prowling through the forest.

  Kiri ran to the ghost forest, avoiding all the areas she’d seen on her da’s screen where the vid eyes must be. Then she continued north, toward the jagged concrete ruins, to check on the meat she’d hung.

  It was gone.

  She studied the sandy ground. The nearly full moon shone bright enough that she could make out several round divots in the soft earth. Panther tracks.

  Kiri circled the area like her da had taught her to do, being careful not to step on the trail as she determined which direction the panther had gone. Animals sometimes doubled back, but this time the trail seemed clear. She followed the tracks north, deeper into the ghost forest.

  After a while, she didn’t need to see the tracks to know which way the panther had gone. Maybe it was the lay of the land or the subtle broken-leaf and matted-earth signs of an animal path, but following the trail became easier.

  The pines of the ghost forest gave way to a marl grass clearing. Thick stands of saw palm bushes clustered beneath a few fallen trees at one edge. Kiri headed toward the palm bushes but stopped halfway, sensing that she was being watched.

  She scanned the area. Something moved through the tall grass ahead of her. It took a few steps, then paused, then took a few steps again, as if trying to sneak up on her.

  Kiri froze. The devi marks on her shoulder and cheek tingled, and her heart beat madly, but she forced herself to stay still. Whatever stalked her seemed clumsier than the panther had been. She caught a glimpse of its ears in the silvery moonlight—two triangles on top of its head, only smaller than the panther’s and lower to the ground. Much lower.

  The creature charged and leapt at her foot. Kiri startled back. The creature hopped back as well, but Kiri could see it clearly now.

  It was a cub! A fluffy, spotted panther cub!

  The cub darted into the tall grass where it had come from.

  “It’s okay,” whispered Kiri. She crouched so as not to appear intimidating. “I won’t hurt you.”

  The cub pounced again, taking a ridiculously high leap and landing a few feet in front of her, like a cricket. Then it hopped back, disappearing into the grass.

  Kiri giggled. She knew the cub was trying to look fierce, but its clumsy high hops were so funny she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “You’re just a little cricket, aren’t you?”

  This time, the panther cub tried to sneak around her. Kiri heard the grass rustle, but she didn’t turn. Most animals felt threatened when stared at. If she looked away and was patient, even shy animals sometimes came up to her.

  The cub stalked closer. Kiri felt its fur brush her bare calf. The unexpected touch sent a shiver through her.

  “That’s right,” she whispered. “I’m a friend.”

  The cub batted the fraying ends of her hoodie. Its claws got stuck in the fabric and it rolled back, twisting and tugging frantically to free its paw.

  “Calm down, silly,” whispered Kiri as she unhooked its claws. From a glimpse of its belly she could tell it was a boy cub. He scampered off into the tall grass, then lowered his chin to his paws and studied her.

  Unlike the mother panther, the cub’s coat was speckled with black markings. He also had more black on his face and around the tips of his ears. And his eyes, instead of being yellow green, looked light blue, although it was hard to tell for certain in the moonlight. His paws were comically large for his short legs. Despite how fierce he tried to appear, his fluffy fur made him resemble a speckled puffball.

  Kiri stretched her hand out toward the cub. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Where’s your ma?”

  The cub stalked forward, sniffed her hand, then hopped back and turned a frantic circle in the grass, as if startled by his own tail.

  Kiri grinned. She kept her hand out, careful not to do anything that might scare the cub away. The next time he approached, he nudged her palm, then flopped onto his back, letting her pet his white belly while he batted her hand with soft paws.

  “Are you lost?” she whispered. “Did you lose your ma?”

  The cub darted into the grass, only to circle back a moment later and nudge her hand again.

  “I lost my ma, too,” she said.

  The cub purred as he pressed his head into Kiri’s palm, nuzzling her anytime she stopped petting him.

  Something else stirred the grass. Kiri looked up. Another fluffy face with blue eyes peered out at her from the shadows. This cub had a dark line across its muzzle, like a mustache. A third cub poked through the grass, next to the other. As soon as it saw her, it turned and skittered into a gap in the saw palms.

  “Three of you?” whispered Kiri.

  The cub she’d named Cricket batted her hand, urging her to pet him again. She stroked his belly some more, while the one with the mustache yawned and licked its paws. Suddenly, both Cricket and Mustache turned and darted into the gap in the saw palms.

  Kiri crouched a few feet from the prickly palm bushes. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “I won’t hurt you. I’m your friend.”

  One by one, the three cubs scampered out. First came Cricket, hopping and turning quick little circles before rubbing against her legs. Then Mustache, flopping on the ground at the edge of the saw palms and yawning. And finally Skitter—that’s what Kiri decided to call the skittish one who’d run off.

  She petted Cricket with one hand while holding her other hand out until both Mustache and Skitter edged close enough to sniff her fingers. Every time Kiri moved, S
kitter bolted back to the shelter of the dense saw palm bushes.

  It’s a den! thought Kiri.

  Her muscles tensed as she realized what this meant. Gators in the swamp would snap at anything that approached their nests. And fire ants would sting anything that stepped near their mounds. Even rats, squirrels, and mice would fiercely protect their dens. So if the mother panther caught her here, she might attack.

  Kiri scanned the clearing. The tall grass field and surrounding forest seemed incredibly still except for the cubs. Then, on a thick branch above the den, Kiri saw a long, snakelike shape ripple in the darkness.

  Her breath caught. Kiri followed the undulating, snakelike silhouette of a tail to a muscular form crouched on the branch. The panther mother was perched less than ten feet away, ready to pounce.

  As if sensing Kiri’s gaze, the panther raised her head and focused her fiery green eyes on Kiri.

  Kiri didn’t dare move. She didn’t even blink as she held the panther’s gaze, just as she’d done the other night.

  The panther had been there all along, watching her.

  She allowed me to approach, thought Kiri. She let me play with the cubs.

  The space between each heartbeat grew as thick as storm clouds rolling in. Then the panther mother lowered her head onto the branch and closed her eyes. With that one simple gesture, the storm clouds passed.

  Cricket went back to batting Kiri’s hoodie and tugging at the torn cloth, while Mustache yawned and Skitter ran quick little circles around Kiri’s legs. And Kiri went back to playing with the cubs, yet everything felt different. Kiri’s devi marks tingled, only instead of prickles of restless energy, they filled her with a warm sense of belonging. The panthers had accepted her.

  She couldn’t say how long she stayed there, playing with the cubs. Time didn’t seem to have the same meaning anymore. Still, when the sky began to lighten, Kiri knew she had to go back. If her da discovered her missing and tracked her to the den, he might try to capture the cubs and send them to the wallers. They’d be taken from here, and it would be her fault.

  And if her da or the fugees trapped the mother panther, the cubs would starve.

  Fixing things between her da and the fugees had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. But more than ever, Kiri knew what she had to do.

  She had to protect the panthers.

  “I have a secret,” whispered Kiri.

  It was late in the day when she finally found Paulo. She’d slept through most of the morning and some of the afternoon and her muscles still ached, but the thought of the cubs and all that had happened the night before energized her. “It’s a really good secret.”

  Paulo crouched among the saw palms on the other side of the fence. He tugged at his shirt and shifted from foot to foot. “I can’t cross today. You should go home. Stay in your house—”

  “The offering we put out is gone,” said Kiri. “Something amazing happened. You have to cross.”

  “I can’t,” repeated Paulo, twisting his shirt tight.

  “Of course you can. I’ll switch off the fence like before, then you can slide under and we can steal the meat from the trap again.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “We have to hurry. I saw my da on the vid screen. He’s down near the red mangrove swamp right now, checking the fence. If we go quickly, we can steal the meat from all three traps. That way the panther won’t get caught.” Kiri tried to switch off the black box with the stick. The electric field made her arms numb and her teeth vibrate, but she pushed through it.

  “I’m not coming across today,” said Paulo.

  “Please? It won’t take long. You just have to climb the tree and cover the vid eye like before.” At last, she worked the end of the stick into the hole on the box. Once it was firmly in, she released the end of the stick and jerked her hand back. The stick stayed in the box, waiting for her to turn it.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Kiri,” Paulo said. “The only reason I came is to tell you I’m not crossing so you’d stop looking for me.”

  “Why? Did you get in trouble?” Kiri figured that must be why Paulo was acting so weird. “It won’t be like yesterday, I promise—no more snakes or fire ants. How are Freckle Beast and Red Rage anyway?”

  “They’re fine.” Paulo rubbed the stings on his leg, but he still seemed nervous. “Just forget all this. Go back to the swamp.”

  “No way. There’s too much to do.” Kiri reached up to turn the stick. “Help me steal the meat. Then, if you promise to never, ever tell anyone, I’ll tell you my secret. Or part of it, at least. It’s the most amazing thing. Trust me, you won’t regret—”

  “Regret what?” asked Tae, crashing through the saw palms behind Paulo. “Regret betraying us?”

  “Tae! Quiet!” hissed Paulo.

  “They’re over here!” called Tae.

  Akash forced his way into the clearing on the other side of the fence from Kiri. She pulled the stick out of the box and stepped back, but Tae had already seen her, so there was no point in running. And anyway, the fence was still on. The fugees couldn’t cross it.

  “Liar,” said Tae, glaring at his brother. “I knew you’d gone across. Now go get Da. Tell him we found a way through the fence.”

  “No,” said Paulo.

  “Go,” repeated Tae, shoving his brother. “Get him or I’ll make you wish you had.”

  Paulo still didn’t move.

  “Fine. I’ll get him myself,” said Tae.

  “Don’t! You can’t tell him.”

  “Who’s going to stop me?” Tae turned to go.

  Paulo tackled him. Palm fronds snapped and crunched as the two brothers fell wrestling to the ground.

  Paulo fought hard, but he couldn’t keep his older brother down for long. Pretty soon Tae had him in a headlock.

  “Traitor,” growled Tae. “You know what happens to traitors?”

  Paulo’s face turned red and his eyes bulged.

  “Let him go!” yelled Kiri from the other side of the fence.

  Tae kept squeezing his brother. Kiri had to do something to help Paulo. She tried hitting Tae with the stick, but the fence kept shocking her. Using the stick’s carved end, she reached toward the black box again. If she could just switch off the fence for a second, she could make Tae let Paulo go.

  Paulo squirmed, moving closer to the buzzing wires.

  Tae yelled and released his hold on Paulo. He rolled back from the fence, grabbing his ear. A wire must have shocked him.

  Paulo scrambled back as well. “Kiri, run!”

  But Kiri didn’t leave. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to Paulo because of her.

  Heavy footsteps crashed through the ghost forest. Akash must have slipped off to get others the moment Tae and Paulo had started fighting. A metallic taste coated Kiri’s tongue as palm fronds on the far side of the fence shook and fell. Someone was chopping through the bushes with a machete.

  “There she is.” Senek thrust his sunburned, sweaty face into the clearing. He swung a rusty machete, slicing a bigger opening in the brush.

  “Told you my boys would suss her out,” said Charro, stepping through the branches behind Senek. His eyes narrowed on Kiri. “Hello, Waller Girl. You going to let us through?”

  Kiri shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “She’s lying,” said Tae. He pointed to a nearby tree. “There’s a box on the other side. It’s a switch or something. She was reaching for it with a stick.”

  “Switch off the fence, girl,” said Charro. “Then we can all be friends again.”

  Snowflake peeked out of Kiri’s hood and chuffed protectively.

  “Well, look at that. You brought your pet,” said Charro. “He’s a cute one, isn’t he?”

  Kiri tried to shoo Snowflake back into her hood. She didn’t trust Charro’s compliments.

  “You always did have a way with animals. It’s quite something. Don’t you think it’s something, Senek?”

  “Yeah,” sa
id Senek. “She’s got a gift.”

  “She does. With a gift like that, you could be a great netter, like me,” said Charro. “See, I know you understand things more than your da. You know this fence can’t stay here. It’s not right to keep us cut off from the forest like this. You hold the key. Let us through and all will be forgiven.”

  The metallic taste in Kiri’s mouth grew stronger, making her want to spit. “No,” she said. “You’ll kill the panther.”

  “That panther doesn’t belong to your da or the wallers,” replied Charro. “It’s ours, and we need it. People are hungry, Kiri. Trading that panther will bring food to the village. It will mean life for a lot of us. Help us catch it and you’ll be a hero to the whole village.”

  Kiri’s gaze fell to the thick metal rod Charro carried. She thought it might be some kind of walking stick or club. Then she realized it was something much worse. “Where’d you get that?”

  “This?” said Charro, lifting the rusty long gun. “This is what I traded the rest of the sea turtle for. It’s what makes us equals with your da. Now, I’m going to ask nicely one more time. Will you turn off the fence so we can all be friends again? Or do I need to use this?”

  “Kiri run!” shouted Paulo. He threw a handful of sand in his father’s face.

  “Dang it, boy!” snapped Charro. “Whose side are you on?”

  Kiri took off while the netter was distracted.

  “Get back here, Waller Girl!” shouted Senek, but Kiri didn’t slow.

  BOOM!

  The sound slammed her ears, loud as lightning striking too close. She dove to the ground and crawled behind a thick stand of inkberry bushes.

  Glancing back, she saw Charro still had the long gun raised, only he wasn’t aiming at her. Instead, he aimed at the tree where the black box hung. The first shot had taken out a chunk of bark, exposing the raw yellow wood underneath.

  BOOM!

  BOOM!

  The third shot blew the box completely off the tree.

  With a flash of sparks and a shattering of plastic, the section of the fence went dead.