In the Panther's Wake

Chapter 6

A cough sounds in the night, a heavy chesty cough. It's close too, and Markus immediately hops off the tree. I jump down after him and he holds his finger to his lips.

We listen.

Glass smashes, along with some muttered swearing. The sounds are coming from the path outside the cages. I creep to the front of the enclosure and hop over the ditch again. I get low and peer out through the gaps in the black metal. It's a soldier, stumbling forward towards us, no mask on his head, just a knife in his belt and not even a pack on his back.

I look back at the tree where Markus is waiting. He looks worried but his brows are pulled low in an attempt to feel fierce.

I creep back across the dirt and whisper, "It's a soldier—just one—and I think he's drunk."

"Drunk?"

"Yeah, he's falling all over the place. Come see."

I crawl forwards and wait for Markus. He's fiddling with something on his belt, his knife probably. Soon he's beside me and we both jump the ditch and squat low, peering out through the hole this time. The soldier carries on stumbling in our direction, his big boots stomping this way and that, as he sways in the moon light. We pull our heads lower as he moves closer. We turn away, ducking completely out of sight and wait. I can hear his hoarse breathing, his scratchy throat. He spits and I hear the saliva hit the stone right beside us, just the other side of the cage. He grunts and then there's a huge crash as his whole body falls to the ground. He moans and I glance at Markus, his fierce expression has returned. Peering out of the hole again I can see the soldier, flat out on his back, still.

"Let's run, now!" I say.

I hop through the hole and onto the path, taking a second to look at the soldier, whose black uniform is dusty and blood stained. He's on his back facing the sky and grimaces in pain.

I start running to the left, past the panther cages, towards the east walls of the zoo. Markus isn't beside me and I stop, spin around to see what's happened. He's just standing there, staring at the drunk soldier, who lies almost motionless. Then Markus pulls a handgun from his belt.

It looks strange in his hands, the charcoal metal gleaming in the skinny moon's light. I can't believe what I'm seeing; has he lost his mind? Where did he get a gun?

"Markus," I shout, "come on!"

He turns to look at me but doesn't take his aim off the soldier. The soldier lies in the centre of the path, Markus between us. There are tears in his eyes.

"What if he's the one who..." his voice trails off.

"Let's just go, he'll die anyway," I say.

"No he won't. He'll wake up with a headache, ready to kill more people, good people, like the ones he killed today!"

"Easy'dere," the soldier's voice stuns us both, sends shivers down my back. He's s sitting up, his hands out in surrender, his upper body swaying – words slurred and dry.

Markus quickly turns and holds the gun out with both hands around the grip, his finger on the trigger.

"Don't move!" he shouts.

"Markus wait," I come running over, stand beside him, "let's just go."

"You should listen to your little friend, I'm not here't hurt you's."

The soldier keeps his hands up and stares at us, his eyes look black in the dark.

Markus keeps the gun held out straight, tears form in his eyes again, "You killed our parents! You destroyed our home!"