Wildcat

by Rebecca Hutto

  “Y-yes, I understand,” she said. “But why are you telling me this? Me specifically, I mean.”

  Farlight laughed. “Not gonna lie, I want the cat with Thai on my side, not that Thai can really help in this situation. Also, I knew you’d take me seriously after I explained myself. And you’re one of the few cats I know for sure Ca-Jade isn’t in contact with. So really, it’s a lot of reasons. But hey, that’s my story. Now come on, let’s go before someone wakes up and realizes we’re gone.”

  ‘Ca-Jade? Commander Jade? What is it with you and Hyrees making up bad nicknames for everything? Especially now, with all this going on.’

  The wind slowed for a moment, then picked up with twice the force, ruffling their fur and bending their whiskers. Ember shivered again, but instead of hunching over to conserve heat, she lifted her nose to the breeze. It made her sinuses burn. Far above, the clouds parted enough to see a pawful of stars. She counted thirty-six of them.

  “Wait,” she mewed, “it’s supposed to be snowing for a while, starting tomorrow. Might as well watch the stars while we still can.”

  He walked up to her. Ember scooted over to let him climb onto her rock. The whites and browns of his fur became reddish orange in the faint glow of her heating system. They wrapped their tails around each other’s haunches, trying to conserve warmth. A few leaps away, a tree branch snapped. It crashed with a crackle and a soft hiss into the snow sludge below. A pack of wolves in the distance joined the gentle howls of the wind, creating an otherworldly chorus. The howls lasted almost as long as the star patch, but after several minutes, both faded. They waited a minute longer for either of the two to come back, but they didn’t. Without another word, they headed back to the Glade.

  They stopped outside the cramped dirt cave Ember had come to call her own. She turned to face him. “You’ll be safest sleeping with Mom and Dad. And Kivy.”

  “Yep,” he replied, and padded off toward the old family den. “’Night, Em.”

  “Goodnight, Farlight.”

  He looked over his shoulder and nodded, never once stopping. Ember slunk into her own dwelling, trying not to step on Hyrees in the process. She curled up beside him and tried to get back to sleep. The vibrant greens and silvers dancing in her mind refused to let her go.

  ‘What if he’s telling the truth? Then again, what if he’s not? But what would lying about this accomplish, other than turning me against Whitehaze and, OH, and only trusting him. I have Thai. That makes me valuable. He wants me on his side of whatever is going on right now. He even told me that, too.’ She clamped her teeth down on the chewy parts of her toes. ‘Who am I supposed to believe now?’

  When her internal clock read one-fifteen, the first cool tones of tiredness seeped into her mind. A soft sliding sound snapped her back to attention. She got up and stumbled to the den entrance. A cat shuffled water bowls around by the nearest fire pit.

  ‘Oh,’ she thought, ‘it’s just night guards being weird again.’

  She sighed and returned to Hyrees’s side. The blue-greens came back, and swept her away to a land where no one kept secrets, and the fears and pains of war were only ghosts of the past.

  ———

  “What kind of fluffhead would—”

  “No, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll just go down to the creek. It’s not that far. I won’t be long, sir.”

  “I could go with you, just in case.”

  “No, I’ll be okay. I could use a little alone time right now. Got a lot to think about, with everything that’s been going on lately.”

  Voices sucked Ember out of her dream world. She yawned.

  “What’s he complaining about now?” Hyrees mumbled.

  Ember stood up. She blinked the sleep from her eyes. “I don’t know. Guess there’s only one easy way to find out. Come on, you big, well, little bear.”

  “Nope, it’s too cold. I’m hibernating in here until Fledge drags me out by my scruff. Have fun talking with your apparently already disgruntled dad.”

  “Fun, fun,” Ember muttered. She groaned. Starting the day with an angry Cloud was never a good sign.

  Outside, real not-angry clouds coated the sky, just as the humans had predicted. ‘Silver. The sky is silver again. I wonder if Lupine will call off patrols and hunts if the weather gets too bad. It’s supposed to start snowing soon.’

  She sighed and meandered over to her father, who sat by one of the fire pits examining water bowls.

  He looked up at her as she approached. “Morning, Em. As you can probably see, some fluffhead left all the bowls too far from the pits. All our drinking water’s turned to ice, and we can’t use any of the bowls until it melts. Two of them are cracked now, so I guess replacing them will be Hyrees’s next job.” He groomed a forepaw, then rubbed it against his head. “I guess feline stupidity never ceases to surprise, does it?”

  Ember’s thoughts shot back to the previous night. ‘Was it intentional? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would anyone want to freeze those things? I mean, yes, I understand they’re all disgusting and such, but why freeze them in the middle of the night?’ She gave up and sighed. ‘I don’t know.’

  Cloud chuffed. “I know what you mean. The worst part is, this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Just usually not all of them at once.”

  ‘I’m not sure you do understand, actually.’

  “But oh well,” he continued, “if you need water, I guess you’ll just have to either eat snow or go to the Kivyress. The creek, not your sister. Farlight just left to get some. I should’ve sent him with Fern’s snow bowl. Hopefully this development doesn’t make anyone late.”

  “I think we’ll be fine,” Ember said. “We can get some water on the way out.”

  He smiled. “Yes, that’ll work.”

  By the time she finished her morning rations, Farlight still hadn’t returned. Lupine hunted down Cloud and instructed him to bring him back for training.

  Ember sat beside a tree, grooming her face as Lupine spoke. Pieces started clicking into place in her mind, painting a silvery picture tinted with green. Some unseen force pressed against her ribs, making her chest tighten. “Can I come? I-I think he might be in trouble. We should hurry.”

  “Yes, you can come. But what makes you think he’d be in trouble?” Cloud asked.

  “I-I-I certainly hope he’s not,” Lupine said, “but just in case, I might search the woods a-around the area. You know, Whitehaze went down there too. It’s possible they crossed paths and got to talking.”

  “Whitehaze?” Ember mewed. Panic set in, bringing with it an all too familiar cyan. She jumped to her paws. “He’s definitely in trouble. Come on!”

  “W-what’s she yowling about?” Lupine asked.

  “I don’t know, but I guess I’d better go see,” Cloud replied. He lowered his voice. “You know Ember. She gets worked up over all kinds of little things. I’m sure they’re both fine.”

  Ember’s heart raced in her chest, but the cyan cleared enough for indignation to appear. ‘You don’t believe me? No one believes me. For once I really, really hope they’re right.’

  She turned toward the northern entrance and ran.

  “We’ll bring him back when we find him. Don’t worry,” Cloud called as he charged after her. “Ember! Ember, wait up!”

  Ember kept running, out the Glade and into the forest.

  “Ember, stop!” Cloud snapped.

  She slid to a standstill and looked over her shoulder. Cloud continued walking a few leaps behind her. She waited for him to catch up, then kept going. The cloud coverage did little to reduce the painful glare of the sun’s ultraviolet rays. She squinted to keep from seeing white.

  “Calm down, would you? This isn’t a rescue mission, this is a ‘tell Farlight he’s late’ mission. Everything is fine,” Cloud said.

  She mewled gibberish under her breath. “Still, we should at least try to move fast.”

  Cloud growled. “For the last time, Ember, Farlight is not in danger.
I don’t know where you got the idea that he would be, but it’s not true.”

  Ember gritted her teeth together. ‘He still doesn’t believe me. No one does. Not even if I explain. Nothing has changed. The only difference is now I’ve got Thai. Am I too soft for you, Dad? Is that why you’re all but ignoring me?’

  [I’m not sure what you mean by asking “am I too soft for you, Dad?” Last time I checked, I was not your father. Would you like me to search the web? Perhaps you can ask him there, if he has a device.]

  ‘I wasn’t thinking to you, Thai. Go away.’

  [Sorry. I’ll leave you alone. Oh, wait, isn’t that your dad beside you? If it is, I recommend asking him now, while he’s here with you. Openness is an important part of every healthy relationship, after all.]

  ‘And I recommend shutting your processor. Leave me alone. The occasional bit of solitude is important too.’

  [Alright, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll be here when you need me.]

  ‘When? Need? That sounds ominous. Wait, ominous?’ Her tail thrashed. Anxiety clawed at her ribs. “You offered to go with him. You’re afraid too, aren’t you? Why?”

  Cloud didn’t reply, which only made the silver shine brighter. The faint warble of the Kivyress joined the wind. Like the wolves of the previous night, it sang its song. Only the creek refused to stop. Like her pounding heart, it grew louder with each step she took. Her lower jaw trembled.

  “F-Farlight?” she called, voice barely more than a whisper.

  A grey and white shape moved in the distance, hunched over by the creek. The shape muttered something unintelligible. She picked up her pace, not caring if she left Cloud behind. When she drew closer, the cat clicked with a name. Her heart leaped. Her chest tightened. Yellow and silver flooded her emotions, flickering and swirling like snowflakes in a blizzard.

  “Whitehaze? W-what are you doing here?” she asked.

  Or at least she thought she’d asked it. He didn’t respond, and her mind was so loud, she began to wonder if she’d only thought it. Instead of turning to face her, he backed up. Her stomach lurched when she realized he was dragging something.

  No, someone.

  Ember’s eyes widened. “Farlight? Is that—”

  She ran forward.

  Whitehaze jumped back, letting Farlight’s limp form flop onto the cold, hard ground. “This isn’t what it looks like. I swear, he was like this when I got here. I don’t know what happened.”

  Ember nudged Farlight’s frozen cheek. Her vision bounced in and out of focus. “Come on, please be okay. Please be okay. Please!”

  She stepped back from his unmoving form, shaking all over. Adrenaline poured into her bloodstream. Her breathing became shallow and rapid. Yellow. Yellow, so much yellow.

  “Farlight,” she whispered. “No. N-no, this can’t . . .”

  Her eyes locked onto his head. Claw-made cuts streaked across his forehead and between his ears. He’d been drowned—intentionally. She turned to glare at Whitehaze. “You did this. You killed him, you coyote! Wildcat!”

  Whitehaze took another step back. “I already told you; I didn’t do it. I didn’t do anything! I swear on my life.”

  ‘I was too late. We were too late. He’s dead. Farlight is dead, and it’s all his fault. He did this. He killed him because of Jade. Whitehaze did this. He did this, this, this, he . . .’ the words echoed in her head, over and over until it became a roar louder than the creek, louder than the falls, louder than a gunshot. Loud, disorienting, and dangerous.

  “Liar!” she screamed.

  She jumped at him. Somewhere in the muffled distance, someone yowled for her to stop, but whoever it was didn’t matter. The world around her moved in slow motion. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel, with Whitehaze at the end. He lunged for her face, jaws open, poised to strike as her paws collided with his side. Ember yanked her head downward to protect herself.

  ‘Oh no, you are not taking another life, old tom. Not today, not EVER.’

  His jaws snapped down on her ear. Ember winced at the sharp, stabbing pain. On instinct, she whipped her head sideways, toward his exposed neck. Her ear ripped. Her teeth sank into his throat. Whitehaze made a gagging, gurgling noise that stabbed at her ears. She bit down harder until her fangs touched, then snapped her head to the left. Skin and muscle ripped. Blood coated her tongue.

  The yellows and greens grew brighter. She opened her mouth and let her mentor’s body fall beside its victim. He mewed softly and looked up at her, eyes wide with terror and betrayal. His jaw hung slack, dripping blood and saliva onto the gravel beneath him. Ember watched, frozen and trembling, as he tried to cough. It came out in a sputtering hack. Their eyes met. His breathing slowed, then stopped altogether. His eyes didn’t even close.

  Someone shoved her back. Ember stumbled into the shallows of the creek, sending freezing shockwaves up her limbs. Her eyesight cleared enough to make out who’d pushed her: Cloud.

  He looked down at the two bodies, then back at her. “Ember what were you thinking? You just killed Whitehaze! You killed him! What were thinking? Answer me!”

  She stumbled again as the gravity of what she’d done hit her. “Oh tahg.” Her vision blurred. Her stomach did nauseating backflips and front flips inside of her. “Oh tahg, oh tahg. I . . . I . . .”

  Ember staggered out of the water. She sat down and stared at the bleeding wound in Whitehaze’s throat. Every part of her shivered. ‘Did I do this? But how? Why? What? No. Oh no. It can’t end like this. No! I’m gonna get executed now. Or, at the very least, exiled. Oh tahg, what did I do? What did I do?’

  “Answer me!” Cloud said.

  She lifted a paw to her chin, then pulled it back smeared with blood. Ember sucked in a long, shaky breath. “I killed Whitehaze.” She dropped to her belly and wrapped her paws over her forehead.

  “I can see that! Why would you—Oh no. Ember, you’ve got to run. You know what happens to cats who kill their kin. I can’t stop this. If you want to live, you have to run.”

  But she couldn’t run; her body was frozen. ‘Farlight is dead. Whitehaze is dead. Now I’m gonna die. Oh tahg. Sorry Michelle. You wasted your time and money after all. Should’ve just let me die a hero. Now I’m hurting everyone. Mom, Dad, Kivy, and—oh no, Hyrees, what are you going to do? Are you going to die now? Fox it! I’ve ruined everything. I’ve ruined everything!’

  “Ember, you have to leave. Go! Now!” Cloud growled.

  He pushed her, but her legs still refused to move. Darkness vignetted her vision. Tears trickled down her cheeks and got absorbed by her fur. She cried for Farlight. She cried for Whitehaze. She cried for Hyrees and for herself.

  “Guess I wasn’t meant to be a hero after all,” she whispered.

  “What’s all this yelling a-about? Cloud, is everything okay down there? Did you find Farlight?” Lupine called.

  “Ember, please,” Cloud pleaded. “Go. Get out of here. If you don’t, they will kill you. Please go. Hide; clean yourself up; I’ll think of something. Just go!”

  She looked up at him, trying to memorize everything she could about his face, his voice, and the white patch on his chest. He was crying. He never cried. She swallowed hard.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so sorry. I don’t . . . I didn’t . . .” She breathed in a long, slow breath. Freezing air filled her lungs and teardrops coated her cheeks. “I can’t keep running,” she whispered. “Not anymore. Too tired. Too broken. I made a mistake. My last mistake, I guess. I’m sorry. I hope the leather works out.”

  “Oh. Oh! Is that Whitehaze?” Lupine asked.

  He charged down the slope toward them. He placed a shaking paw against Whitehaze’s shoulder. “No. No! Oh no, oh no, oh no. Not him. Please, not him. W-w-what happened? W-what did you do?” He spun around to look at her, but stopped short. He jumped back. “AGH! Farlight too? Ohhh, tahg. What . . . Ember, you’re-you’re coated in blood. What happened? What did you do?”

  Ember lowered her paws to stare at them. Little dro
plets of blood dripping from her chin tainted the snow beneath her. “Whitehaze killed Farlight.” She swallowed, and started trembling and crying all over again. “I killed Whitehaze. Now you’re gonna kill me.”

  Lupine let out a tiny, pitiful cry, then collapsed at Whitehaze’s side. “Why? W-why did this have to—y-y-you knew, Cloud. You knew what she was. You-you knew she was defective. And to think I-I thought . . .”

  “Lupine, don’t,” Cloud growled.

  In that moment, Ember could read him. The emotions he’d tried so hard to hide came pouring out. His broken face created a forest of colors in Ember’s thoughts. He was lost, scared, confused. Or perhaps it was she herself who felt that way; she couldn’t tell. Her throat tightened, threatening to choke her.

  Lupine got up and glared down at her. “Y-your experiment failed, Aspen. Dark was right all along. Sh-sh-should’ve drowned her in the creek when you had the chance.”

  Ember’s eyes widened. She stopped shivering. ‘Drowned me in the . . . What? Aspen . . . kill me? Experiment? But why? Had the chance? Wait, Dark was right about what?’

  “Stop!” Cloud yowled. “Whitehaze killed Farlight. She must at least be found partially justified. It was a revenge kill. She’s not defective, it was a mistake. I cured her. Remember? I cured her. Look at her; she’s traumatized herself. She didn’t mean for this. Please listen to me.”

  Colors, so many colors, flashed and flickered from every angle of Ember’s mind. Snowflakes, real ones, floated down around her, harbingers of the coming storm.

  Lupine grimaced. A lonesome tear dripped from his whiskers. He walked over to Farlight, bent down, and licked his forehead. “Did a-a-anyone see Whitehaze kill him?”