In the Panther's Wake

Chapter 3

Anxious voices wake me up—panic on the platform. Markus is already out of his bed and I jump up quickly, pulling on my jeans and hoody. People are rushing everywhere. I spot a woman crying, and another, their husbands try to console them. Markus isn't far off, near the big fire. I run towards him.

"What's happening?" I ask.

"Some of the others never made it back last night."

"Which ones?"

"I don't know. I guess they just got lost or something."

I spot the large, wrinkled man running from his shack—the one who was complaining last night. His face is red with rage again, his wrinkles flapping up and down on his cheeks.

"My watch! Someone stole my watch!"

A few of the others try to calm him down, but he's furious.

"That watch is worth more than your pathetic lives!" I hear him shout at one of the men trying to calm him.

"He deserves it," Markus says.

I look at my brother. He's sitting calmly on one of the chairs he's dragged out from the shack. I can see my father go over to the wrinkled man and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. The man pushes my father away and someone else tries to grab him, so he swings his fist. He catches a woman in the face. She screams and hits the ground hard. The woman's husband charges at the wrinkled man and knocks him down in one punch. The other men hold the husband back as he crawls away and then staggers to his feet.

"Savages! All of you! I've had enough!" He storms off.

"Where do you think he's going?" I ask Markus.

"Hopefully he's leaving," he smiles at me.

I look back towards the crowd of adults that has grown, and my father's walking towards us. My mother comes out of the shack with some food—a tin of peaches.

I take the tin and start to eat whilst I wait for my father. He smiles at me, telling me not to worry.

"Three youngsters never came back last night," he says.

"Are they dead?" I pass him the tin.

"It doesn't look good. It was some of the older boys, the twins and another, who aren't likely to get lost."

"What does this mean?" my mother asks.

"It could mean the soldiers aren't ignoring the young ones anymore. Things are growing desperate up there. From what I hear from the boys there's hardly any food left to find."

My mother looks worried. "Don't jump to conclusions," she says.

Markus puts his arm around her waist and she leans her head against his.

"I don't understand," I say.

"He means the soldiers probably killed and ate the twins."

"Markus!" My mother is angry at him for even thinking it.

"Easy, Markus, no need to say it like that," my father shakes his head.

"But it's true."

My father tries to give Markus a stern look, but his eyes are overcome with sadness.

"Needless to say you boys can't go out today. We need to wait and hope the lost ones show up, at least for now. Then we'll decide on what comes next."

"But we need food! We barely have any tins left, and the horse we had yesterday was nothing! We're better than the others—smarter too. We'll be fine!"

"Markus, if soldiers are killing youngsters as well now, then you cannot go above ground. That was the whole deal. We sent you up there because they left you alone. Things may have changed. Please, promise me you won't."

Markus is raging, anyone can see that. I know he wants to head up, and so do I. We can't just sit around and wait.

"I promise," Markus says, but he doesn't look up. I can see the fingers on one of his hands are crossed behind his back.

A crowd begins to gather towards the centre of the station. The wrinkled man is there, a bag on his shoulder and a walking stick in his hand. The adults are all trying to stop him.

"Get out of my way, I'm finished with all of you," he shouts.

He pushes past the last few men trying to block him off and, in the end, they let him pass. He doesn't say another word and slumps off like a big, old, useless dog.

"He doesn't stand a chance," Markus says.

"It's a miracle he survived this long. We don't need people like that down here. It's not good for morale. It's hard as it is," my father is shaking his head.

"We can't let him go up there and die," my mother says.

"He's a grown man, we can't control his actions. We can only advise, and that we tried."

"All because of a stupid watch?" I ask.

"This is about more than just a watch," my mother says. "It's about who he was before, in the old world, and who he is now. It's a status thing."

"I don't understand," I say.

"That's because you don't remember the old world. Things like the value of the watch on your wrist mattered a great deal to lots of people. The car you drove and the wine you drank. That watch was probably his last memento of who he once was."

"That all sounds ridiculous," I say. "Why do any of those things matter?"

My father nodded, "You're right, Bandi. It was stupid. And some people still can't let go."

**

I sit by the hut for the rest of the morning, there's so much going on. My father heads off to a meeting with some of the other adults and my mother joins him a bit later. I know they're going to discuss the water and the missing children. I'm nervous. What if soldiers are killing us now—eating us? I shudder at the thought.

All of sudden I feel a tap on my left shoulder and I jump up quickly.

"It's not Death, only me," Markus says with a big smile on his face.

He has his back-pack on, his knife in his belt.

"Come on, little brother, let's find some meat."

"Now?"

"They're all too busy worrying about what to do. Fast and silent, like ninjas."

I smile back at him, ninjas, a game we alwaysused to play. It seems fitting now. I grab my small knife and slide it into mybelt. I join Markus out on the platform and we dart off together, sneakingquietly down the tracks. Nobody sees us leave. What a feast we will bring them,I know it. Markus and I will be heroes tonight