In the Panther's Wake

Chapter 22

I step out of the dark and look up at my father's face. Tears start to trickle down my cheeks and I rush forward to hug him.

"Stop," he says loudly, "You mustn't come closer."

I freeze, study his expression. He's thinner than before, the life eroded from his face, wrinkles are longer, deeper. There are sores on his neck and hands. He coughs, a dry and pained croak. Markus rushes up beside me.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

He collapses to his knees and begins to sob. He stares at us and I can see he's smiling, in disbelief that we've made it this far. And I can't believe it's him, my father, here after so long—so many days and nights spent thinking he was dead.

I rush towards him again, unable to stand back any longer. I want to feel the safety of his arms around me, smell him and cry into his chest. Markus rushes with me and we grab him, squeezing him tightly.

He holds his hands up and covers his mouth. "Boys, please, you can't," he cries, wriggling free and stepping away from us. "And stay back from him too," he says, pointing to the soldier on the bed.

"Are you sick?" Markus asks.

My father nods as he leans against the metal shelves at the back of the tent, still holding a piece of cloth over his mouth.

"It's infectious, something new," his voice comes out muffled from under the cloth. "Cover your faces. You have to leave, now."

We do as he says and pull our shirts up over our mouths.

"But we finally found you, after all this time," Markus says. "We can't leave you. Of course we won't!"

"I can't believe you made it this far, both of you. I can't imagine how..." his voice trails off, he has to gather himself. "I wish we had time to talk about it all. But they'll come soon—the soldiers—to check on me."

"We're not leaving without you!" I sound desperate, my voice more shrill than usual.

"Boys, it's too late for me. Whatever this sickness is, I have it now. The only reason they kept me alive was because they thought I might be able to help them cure this. But I'm not a doctor, not really. And now this has become my end. I caught the sickness hours after starting work on this soldier. This disease is aggressive, and it will take you too. That is why you can't come any closer."

"We'll find a cure! You're a scientist, it's what you do—what you did," Markus says.

My father puts his finger to his lips, "You must stay quiet, please. I wish it was that simple. This soldier here, he was taken ill only a week ago, and he's barely hanging on. With the right equipment maybe I'd have a chance, but here, in this world, it's just not possible. I don't have any of the things I need."

My eyes feel frozen, heavy. I'm unable to react, numb to it all. It's too much, and I start to glance around, searching for a weapon. I can't leave my father again. I can't. Markus squeezes my arm, I can hear him snivelling beside me. My throat aches, my chest is tightening. My heart feels brittle, constricted in a giant snake's coils. Markus falls to the ground and buries his head in his arms. Seeing my father is too much, seeing him and having to leave again.

"When the soldier comes back, we'll kill him," I say, "then we'll get you out of here."

My father is shaking his head.

"We're not leaving you here! It's simple. We'll all die if that's how it goes. But we aren't leaving you. Is there anything sharp?" I start to move around the tent, looking. Markus is still on his knees.