In the Panther's Wake

Chapter 8

By nightfall we are further from the station, further from the zoo than anyone we know of has ever been. All we know is that there isn't much in the northern part of the city, but we can't be sure it's safe. The road we're on is straight and long, although in the dark we can't see too far, only that it seems to carry on for a while. Houses line the roadside, some of them small and others large. Taller buildings become even scarcer, whilst the number of skeletal trees and shrubs has grown. It's dark but our eyes have adjusted, and I thank the stars for helping us conserve flares, knowing on most nights clouds of dust and debris floating up high would choke us into total blackness. We're walking and I can barely keep my eyes open. My feet are sore and blistered, pulsing inside my shoes. Even my calves feel weak and powerless, my toes numb.

"We need to stop soon," I say.

"I know, just a little further. We'll stop and stay in one of these houses. We just have to be very careful; anyone, anything could be out here," he says.

We trudge on warily, my mouth pasty and dry. Our water is running low already and we both know it, but haven't found a solution. The only thing I can think would be to go back to the metro station. But we've come so far already, and going back could be suicide.

As if reading my thoughts Markus passes me a bottle from his bag. I drink, but just a sip. It's half empty, half a litre left. I pass the bottle back to Markus and he puts it away.

"Aren't you having any?" I ask him.

"I'm fine for now," he keeps looking ahead, but I can see his lips are cracked, and I know he must be thirsty.

"Is that all we have left?"

"Yeah, but we'll find something soon."

It's obvious he's not convinced, and neither am I. It hasn't rained in six years. There might not be water anywhere out here.

The creature seems to appear from thin air, dissolving out of the dark, almost knocking us both to the ground in shock. Markus holds me up as we both stagger backwards. It's a large brown dog, right in front of us, its head lowered, eyes black in the dim starlight. It barks twice, then takes a few steps towards us. It starts growling and I slowly lower myself, pick a stone off the ground, one the size of my fist. I slowly stand again and pull my arm back, before hurling the stone in the dog's direction. It bounces off the tarmac and pings up into the dog's side. It yelps and runs away. Markus pats me on the back.

"What kind of dog was that?" I ask.

"I don't know. But it was big, and I'm glad it's gone."

I smile at Markus, "We should have killed it. We're low on food too."

"Actually, we don't have any food."

I take my knife from my belt, "When it comes back, we'll get it."

We walk on and occasionally I hear a bark fire up from the darkness somewhere nearby. What worries me is that sometimes the bark comes from behind us, sometimes ahead. Sometimes it's to the left of us and sometimes to the right. And it doesn't sound like one dog, it sounds like many.

After a few minutes the brown dog returns, scampering out of the darkness. I raise my knife slowly as it stares at me, hunched forwards, its tail stiff. I can hear Markus pulling out the gun, rattling around as he loads our only bullet, cocks it back.

"Don't", I tell him, "We should save it. I can get him. Just get your knife out and help me if I need it."

"Be careful," he says.