I sneak through the foliage, on all fours, jungle cat style. Reaching the edge of the clearing my eyes glint in an amber mischief. Ahead looms a large building a block and a half long and about four stories high, flat roof and backed by the looks of a down town area. The Den, a home. Skirting the lawn that reached slightly into the woods, I circle around to the area where the woods is closest to the left side of the building, when facing it. My room was on this side, third story, corner view. A wicked smile flickers across my mouth before I slink across the clearing like lawn. Split second decision sends me not towards my room but through an open window on the first floor.
This building, the main headquarters of the Den, is the hospital, government, has a handful of smaller jobs, but most importantly it’s basically the customs area. All the new Denmates come through here. This is where they stay, eat, and are evaluated to make sure they are fit for the little society. If a Virused working for the scientist who want us all on a dissection table get through then we are all doomed.
The place is silent, deadly silent. Alarm hairs rise on the back of my neck, but I keep pushing. Back in the main entry way, I trot up the main stair case, closing in on Kit’s office. Kit’s office is right above the main entrance, an extravagant view from a rounded window wall, and though a bit small, especially for a man of his size, perfect for the founder and hero of the Den. I smiled at the thought of surprising him again, the affectionate tackle reunion that always signs my return to the Den after a safe trip.
But I open the door and am the one surprised. I step through the doorway into the woods where I spent five straight years living with Misty and then off and on after she sent me back to the human world. The door closes behind me, I turn in panic to find myself trapped, surrounded on all sides by cliff and unable to climb them before being shot. Hank’s behind me, he’s going to kill me, slow and painfully. Misty attacks and saves me, but not before Hank shoots her. It’s my fault, all my fault. I go to take her back to our cave but upon entering confusion strikes again.
This time I’m Fred’s captive, his thugs beating me ruthlessly. A force surges up through me and I escape. Furious at my escape, Fred sends Hank after me. All this is spinning faster and faster till I’m so confused I don’t know up from down, light from dark. I struggle to breath, unable to see straight. Suddenly Hank towers over me, holding a large tiger at the end of chain. He taunts, laughs, and threatens. The tiger inches forward, claws sear through my skin, hot bloody breath billows across my face, large tiger fangs slowly close around my throat. I can’t breathe anyway, this would be faster than suffocation. Then I hear something, voices, three, distant but coming closer.
‘Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?’ is all I hear echoing in the now empty black void that is a waking dream.