In the Panther's Wake

Chapter 5

A few minutes go on forever. So many things bolt through my mind, memories flying out of the black tunnels like bullets. I see my mother's face, my father's eyes, the smell of his t-shirt and her hair. I see the station as it was— its painted ceiling, safe and comforting, and its fire warm and strong. I imagine it now, my parents screaming as guns crack and smoke charges, while people fall in heaps to the platform. I see the soldiers' masked faces, their eyes hidden but piercing blue, cold and hollow. Markus sobs beside me and he's squeezing my hand. We collapse into each other as I try to hold back my own tears.

"Quickly, we have to go help them!" Hope surges in me for a moment and I try to rise to my feet, pulling Markus with me, but he's heavy and I can't stand. My legs buckle and give way. I fall to my knees again.

"We can't, you know we can't," Markus says.

I crumble and start to cry again. I know he's right.

"But what if someone's alive?" I say.

"They leave no one alive. You know that. We'll only die too."

"Then we'll die!" I say, my voice choked, my throat sore. "We have to do something!"

I look into my brother's eyes and they're wet like the sea, brimming with wave upon wave of heartache. It seems impossible, surviving now. Everything was fine as it was, we had a home, we had each other—now we have nothing. I gaze at Markus and I know I have to be brave. He's trying so hard but he can't do this alone, he needs me to be strong for both of us.

I listen for a minute and the chaos has subsided. There's still the occasional gunshot or banging, crashing, but the noises are scarce now, the attack likely over.

"We need to get out of here," I say.

Markus looks at me and nods, picks himself up and stands.

"They might come searching the tunnels for survivors," he rubs his eyes with his dirty hands.

"It sounds like it's over. I think they're just shooting any..." my voice trails off.

Markus puts his hand on my shoulder, like he always does. I'm glad he's with me. I know I can't do this alone, and neither can he. At least we're together—together alone.

**

We run quietly, on the pads of our feet, fast but almost silent. We don't take the same sewer drain to the surface; we use one further down the tunnel. Outside it's later than I'd thought, a few hours past noon at least, the sunlight barely grazing over the taller buildings. I'm out into the daylight first but Markus is just behind me. We stay crouched when we reach the streets, and run low to the safety of an upside down taxi, leaning against the side of an old building. The front wall of the building is half gone, the inside a mess of debris, nothing to tell us what it once was.

"Where now?" I ask.

"I don't know. Where else could be safe?"

I scout our surroundings; we're still close to the station. Smoke is spewing up a few streets away. It's thick and black, and I think of the bodies again; Mother, Father. But I shake my head, toss the thoughts out. I need to focus on staying alive.

"The zoo," Markus says, "it's always been safe before."

"Isn't it too close? Won't they search the area?"

"If we wait, I think we'll be Ok. They probably found all the food they need down there."

His voice crackles and I can feel myself about to break down again. A sickness rises inside me. I vomit on the concrete and collapse onto my hands and knees. I feel Markus' hand on my back. He rubs in circles like my mother always does—did. My body rattles, my hands unable to grasp, too weak. We sit there, shielded from view by the taxi, waiting for the night.