Fourth Breeding

Undergrowth ripped as Naomi surged forwards, clutching at the stitch in her side, her lungs burning. She checked the GPS. She'd crossed the English border ten miles ago – at least where the border used to be – and she only had another three miles at most until she reached a Sanctuary. Dusk hung in the sky; under the tree canopy the darkness was nearly total. The forest offered protection but night could bring anything.

Naomi's laboured breathing attracted the sentries. Her message hadn't reached them but there was no way she wasn't human. They fanned out to intercept her and she collapsed into their arms.

The steel doors of the subterranean bunker slammed above them and there was a beeping sound as the locking mechanism sealed. Naomi looked at the two guards.

"Isn't the weight of the doors enough?"

The female guard shook her head.

"One of the Sanctuaries over towards Gloucester was breached, the doors ripped right open. We think they may have evolved.

Again."

Naomi's face blanched under the strip lighting.

"But… we're safer here, right? In The Forest?"

The male guard laughed.

Naomi peered into the mess room. There must have been at least a dozen people in there, and some children too. An older woman with long, slate-coloured hair beckoned her in.

"So you're our new girl, eh? Feeling better for a wash? Your clothes okay?"

Naomi smiled through her fatigue.

"It's high fashion here compared to Wales."

"That's the spirit. You're in England now, the centre of the civilised world. There's some slop in that pot over there. Help yourself, you'll be hungry. Try and get some meat on those bones."

Naomi froze at that phrase and the woman looked down, realising what she'd said.

"Name's Lilbet, by the way," she said to break the moment. "Get some grub and I'll fill you in on who's who."

Naomi nodded and joined her. As the woman pointed out the other members of the Sanctuary and gave her their detailed back stories, Naomi's relief was gradually overwhelmed by her utter exhaustion.

Two days later Naomi was hauling strong young saplings from the nursery to the planting ground. She couldn't not work. When she rested, unwelcome thoughts filled her mind. Losing herself in her labour was what she wanted to do and the Sanctuary respected that, understanding her pain.

Tom, a tough boy in his early teens, helped her move the heavy trees, the two of them supporting the root ball with their arms, walking slowly over the trampled undergrowth.

When they broke for food Tom's curiosity was too much for him.

“So… what did they say in Wales. Y'know, about it all?”

Naomi shrugged.

“Pretty much the same as here, I think. It all started the same, didn't it? The Cats, I mean. People thought they were just wild cats that had got out of some zoo, like the ones people had seen for years. Beast of Bodmin Moor and all that. Then the killings started. Then… it all went strange after that.”

Tom nodded.

“It was the second breeding,” he said. “They think the Cats bred again with whatever had started it. But there must have been a third breeding. No-one really knows, do they?”

He kicked his feet out, pushing at the undergrowth. Naomi didn't want to talk about it any more, didn't want to think about it.

“Tom!” A man approached, then saw Naomi. “Hey, hey! New girl, right? Many, many salutations and the deepest of welcomes.”

He bowed.

“The name's Chris.” He reached out to shake Naomi's hand.

“This little tyke isn't annoying you, is he?”

“No, he's fine,” said Naomi, looking into Chris' humorous green eyes. Chris grinned, making Naomi blush, which she covered by standing up and starting to pack away the coffee thermos.

“How about the two of you come and help me with the fence? Bring your gloves, there's a lot of brambles.”

“Okay,” said Tom, and Naomi followed them towards the outer edge of the plantation.

“It's an impressive site,” said Naomi.

“Yeah, well, it all began here, didn't it,” said Chris. Naomi froze and looked at him.

“Really? How do you know?”

“The stories started here. There's always been tall tales about what goes on in The Forest but this time it happens they were true.”

Naomi nodded, digesting this while helping to measure the wire out along the rough, spiky ground.

“Crucially, we were the first ones to realise that the Cats had left. That they'd moved to the urban areas. We tried to tell people but there was such panic… there was no organisation.”

Naomi nodded, remembering well.

“We knew they were avoiding the Forest. They were seen occasionally but they only returned to breed. It's not their hunting ground. Not when they have such perfect man-made open spaces. This was the first Sanctuary. The first to start the tree-planting action.

We'll win our land back, one tree at a time.”

He laughed.

“The monkeys will triumph again!”

“Were you part of it, setting up the first Sanctuary?”

“Nah, I'm from Essex myself. Came here only recently.”

Tom interrupted them.

“We're getting out of range of the others. We should radio for the next team.”

“We're fine,” said Chris. “It's a long time till dark.”

“But they don't just come at night!” said Naomi. “They come by day. I've seen it, seen their attacks. And they might have evolved again, bred a newer generation. There's been stories from Gloucester.”

She looked at Chris, panic overwhelming her.

But Chris' wide green eyes were hard. His teeth and claws were lengthening.

“They've already changed, little Welsh Girl,” he hissed. “They've got something new from their Forest parent. Now they can pass it on with a single bite.”

“No!” yelled Tom, jumping on his back. Chris twisted, swiping his front limb up in an arc that ripped through Tom's stomach. Tom sank to his knees, gasping.

Naomi stared, then lurched backwards, turning to run.

She felt a terrible weight on her back and crashed forward into the bramble-covered ground.

She felt a furred face press against her ear.

“And you, little mousy, don't run away. I'm going to play with you.”

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I am British-born but now live in Washington DC, where I write short stories, flash fiction, poetry and culture articles. I am currently working on a psychological horror novel. I have previously been published in The Linnet's Wings, MediaMagazine, MicroHorror, Bewildering Stories, First Edition and Every Day Poets, among others. I blog about my writing adventures at http://writerinthewilderness.blogspot.com/