Hunted
The bitter evening chill bites my reddened bare skin. Winters are only growing colder each year I am on the run and each year I get closer and closer to getting caught. A shiver runs up my spine at the thought of the hunters, persistent and petrifying. I’m not sure how much longer I can outrun or outsmart them, especially when I’m on my own now. There used to be so many of us. I remember being little growing up surrounded by so many litters in such thriving numbers and now I feel as if I am the only free kit left. My life was filled with the love of my family and friends and even a few positive interactions with humans. They mostly left us alone, as we did with them. My mother would tell me and my siblings stories about the human world and I used to be so awestruck by it all. Now I'm only left with fear and disgust when I think of the humans. I used to be able to go to school, to play, to have fun. But ever since the rich society snobs decided we were the 'it' accessory hunters have been making a living off of our capture. Over the years their methods have grown more refined, leading to even the strongest and smartest among us being picked off one by one. By the time I was 16, I had to live my life on the run. I used to travel with a small group; we would bounce from town to town, hiding in alleyways and traveling only by the cover of night. Over time, I had to watch each of them get taken by humans and now, only I remain.
I don’t mind the solitude as much as I mind the boredom. I miss having somebody to talk to and curl up with when it gets cold. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the comforting warmth of another being; I can hardly remember what it felt like in the first place. I shake this sad thought out of my head and push a short strand of my pale blonde hair out of my face, instead focusing on grooming my long length of tail. It if weren’t for this, and my ears, of course, I could pass for a stupid human and never have to worry about being hunted.
The night grows colder with time and as tempted I am to build a fire, I’m more tempted to not get kidnapped. The only clothing adorning my freezing body is a short satiny nightie that I stole from a clothesline two seasons ago that barely protects my decency, much less shields me from the elements. Instead, I curl up into a ball, letting my tail curl onto my cheek and forming a furry pillow. Every night my dreams are plagued with visions of hunters taking me away from my forest home and locking me in a cage forever. I try my best to push these dark thoughts out of my mind and focus on getting rest, but the sound of a twig snapping draws my attention. My ears twitch, following the noise in the dark. I turn towards the direction it came in, hoping it’s just a deer or better yet, a squirrel to snack on. But then I smell a familiar scent, something I haven’t smelled in years.
“Hello?” A timid voice calls out through the darkness. “Who’s there?”
I squint my eyes, trying to confirm my suspicions. The girl suddenly comes into view and I see the outline of large ears perched on her head. In an instant, I bolt up from my spot and rush over to her, nearly knocking her over when I wrap my arms around her to engulf the stranger in a hug. I start crying tears of joy and relief—I wasn’t alone after all. It takes her a second to process but she accepts my hug and tangles her arms around me. It feels so good to be around one of my own kind again, to feel that sense of belonging. Minutes tick by as we stand tethered in place by our hug until we break it with a heaving gasp.
I take this moment to examine the girl. She has frizzy waves of dark hair swirling around her face with tufts of white fur adorning the tips of her ears and tail. We look to be about the same age, somewhere in our twenties. I’d have to know the date to know my exact age and I haven’t known the date in a long, long time. We both exhale a sigh of relief, thankful to be in familiar company.
“I’m Trish,” the girl states, extending her hand. Oddly formal after our tender hug but I’ll take it nonetheless.
“Lila,” I reply, taking her hand in mine.
We spend the next few hours talking and regaling our tales of similar woe. Of course, we both have plenty of experience with hunters and being on the run, but we also share in the losses of our friends and family. It’s a twisted kind of comfort, to be so deeply understood in your pain, but it’s comfort nonetheless. Trish tells me she is on her way to a safe place for kits that she heard about while in hiding. Apparently, we have a whole community out there waiting with open arms to greet us. I’m apprehensive initially, this isn’t the first fairytale I’ve heard of some amazing town populated by our kind.
“But Lila, I’ve seen it. This isn’t a fairytale, it’s real! I was skeptical too, but I’ve been there and am on my way back. You should join me!” she swears ardently.
“If it’s so great, then why did you ever leave? Why risk getting caught out here?” I ask. My question makes Trish pause and look down, fiddling with her long nails. Her expression drops as her tone grows sullen and defeated.
“I was…looking for someone. My brother. But he got taken... I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Her gray eyes well with tears at this and I decide it’s best not to pry. In silence, I comfort her by holding her hand in mine, gingerly rubbing my fingers in circles on her tanned skin. After a few moments of pondering her offer, I break the silence.
“I’ll come,” my quiet voice replies. At this, she perks up.
“Really?” I nod in response. Her face breaks into a wide grin revealing a small gap between her front teeth. Trish throws her arms around my neck to celebrate.
After a few hours of sleep huddled together on the forest floor, we begin our trek. Trish tells me it’s a full two-day journey to make it to the safe haven, but two days is nothing compared to years on the run. The bright sunlight helps with the biting cold a bit, but not nearly enough. We still shiver along with each step, only warming up when we decide to sprint through the woods. It feels so good to have a destination again, a place to belong to. Along our journey, Trish begins to dodge my questions about the community. Her answers grow vague and she seems more nervous as the hours tick by. I chalk this up to anxiety over leaving the coverage of the trees, something I’ve been feeling myself. It’s hard to ignore the looming threat of hunters that could be lurking around every corner.
Two days go by quickly and in the morning we finally break out of the dense thicket of trees. As nervous as I am, it feels good to be in the open air again. I’d almost forgotten how wide and spacious nature can be. I follow Trish along as she leads me to the safe haven. It isn’t long before we find a beaten path leading to a paved road.
“Uh Trish, are you sure this way is safe?” I ask nervously. Roads mean people. People mean hunters. My eyes dart around, looking for a possible abductor lurking near the road.
“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve been this way before, remember?” Trish says. She doesn’t seem too confident in her answer though. Something is unsettling in her voice too that I can’t quite make out. It’s almost expectant like she’s impatiently waiting for something. I start to seriously consider turning around when a large black van comes barreling around the bend in the road. I turn to bolt in the opposite direction so I can head for the safety of the trees, but Trish grabs my wrist firmly.
“Hey! Trish, let go!” I yell, struggling to free myself from her clasp.
“I’m sorry, Lila. I really, truly am. But they have my brother.” She pauses, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “This was the only way. I had to find somebody to take his place.”
“What the fuck? How could you! You fucking traitor, I’ll kill you!” I rush towards her, claws outstretched, ready to rip her to shreds. But before I can, a pair of strong arms yank me back.
She releases her grip on my wrist as I strain my neck to get a glimpse at my captor. A human, of course. I start screaming wildly, not that it even matters. Nobody would come to help me. There’s nobody left.
My captor looks exactly like what I’d imagined in my nightmares. Not his face exactly, but the look in his eyes. Cold, uncaring, callous. I try to reach out and scratch that smug grin off his face but another man grabs me, holding me firmly in place. A third comes with a long metal pole that has a metal loop attached to the end. He extends it around my neck and yanks, pulling the loop into a tight vice on my throat. I let out a gasp, hungry for a full breath of air. The men laugh at this while Trish just watches me struggle. How could she betray one of her own kind like this? She approaches the men apprehensively with her gaze drawn down.
“I did what you asked. Now please, take me to my brother,” Trish pleads. The men laugh again but this time at her.
“Oh, we’ll take you to your brother alright. Grab her!” One of the men barks to the other. A man with a thick black beard takes his hands off me and roughly grabs Trish instead, pulling her towards the direction of the van. She screams in terror while kicking her legs in an effort to escape. I almost feel bad for her but remember we both could have both been free right now if it wasn’t for her. Karma is a bitch, and so is Trish.
The back door of the van opens to reveal large metal cages dappled with rust and blood. Both Trish and I are forcibly crammed inside, made to crouch down on all fours so we can fit in the small cells. Lucky for her we get put in separate cages, otherwise she wouldn’t be leaving this van alive. I glower at her from inside the cage's confines, but she’s too busy crying to notice. The man with the black beard starts the van and we begin our journey to an unknown destination.
