Day Ten ∞ Early Sunday morning

IT CAME AS NO SURPRISE to Danny that his attempt to fall asleep would be a futile endeavor—his brain just wouldn't shut down.

A wild cat.

A big wild cat.

He couldn't get over the fact that he'd brought the wild cat home with him. What if something really bad had happened? He had to remind himself that the bad that did happen had nothing to do with the cat he unknowingly brought home with him. Instead it punished the cat that had caused the bad thing to happen. He was almost one hundred per cent sure of that. He'd just have to call the police to confirm that.

The killer cat was dead... Some consolation... It wasn't. The black cat was still out there. And he felt like he was missing something.

Of course his brain had to lock onto that thought and go on the unbidden mission of finding an answer; it went into systematic playback mode:

Something dark in the hallway—something light in the yard...

Scratches on his truck—scratches on her chest...

"She was blind and she's not blind – blind – blind..." Gina's voice echoed in his head.

Black hairs between his fingers—tan hairs between hers...

"I have met this creature before – fore – fore..."

She'd said that twice.

But she couldn't have: the memory wasn't hers...

I'm still missing something...

He groaned: sleep was nowhere near in sight.

Once again he went outside to run himself into exhaustion. He let Zorro join him as he completed the first lap and started the second one. That was when Zorro growled and took off at a tangent, heading for the car shed.

"What, Zorro?" Danny said in a hushed voice and followed. Something in the garage? Zorro was sniffing around the wooden door, growling between breaths, then barked once and followed his nose around the side of the shed to the backyard. "Zorro, sssch!" Danny jogged after the dog and found it making a beeline for the woods beyond. "No, Zorro, no! Come here!"

Zorro stopped and looked back at him with a bark.

"Quiet, Zorro! Come here right now! Heel!"

The dog came back to him and he grabbed hold of its collar; he didn't want it to go chasing something or somebody in the dark—losing one dog was enough. He walked the dog to the back porch and got the leash from a hook. He needed to run, but he didn't want to be out here alone. He had to think about both his own and his dog's safety.

∞

He'd only slept for three hours when he woke up again with one thought in his head. He needed to find out exactly what kind of animal was on his truck that night. It wasn't too early to call the police for information. He went to his room for the business card, Sergeant Eldon, City of Eufaula Police Department. Then he went downstairs to make the call.

It wasn't seven o'clock yet but Eldon was on duty and took his call. Several seconds after ending the call, Danny still held the receiver, replaying the conversation in his mind: "Yes, I remember you. The cougar that killed your dog was killed by a jaguar."

"A jaguar? But wasn't it a black cat that killed it?"

"Good morning, Danny dear." Mother's voice interrupted his thoughts and he put down the receiver. "Who are you calling this early in the morning?"

"Hey... Mom. Was just calling the police to find out if there's any more news on what killed the cat that killed Lad. Well, it was another cat that did it. They can't find it but they don't think it's in the area anymore."

"What? You mean the neighborhood's not safe yet?"

"They haven't found any more tracks so they think it's safe."

"You're sure?"

"They seem to think so." He squinted and rubbed his forehead; he could still feel the pressure from lack of sleep. "Look, I'm gonna catch up on some shut-eye." He headed for the living room couch and stretched out with his arm blocking the daylight from his eyes.

Mother followed inside the room. "Are you okay, dear? Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm okay. Just slept badly, that's all."

"You seem to have been doing a lot of that lately. Is something else troubling you?"

"No, Mom, I'll be fine. Nothing to worry about. Just give me a couple of hours."

"And I was going to ask you to drive me to church today but..."

"Church?" He squinted at her. "You stopped going years ago."

"Yes... but... With all that's been going on with me, I feel like I need to reconnect, you know? I've been 'forsaking our own assembling together'... But don't worry, I'll ask your sister instead. I'll let you rest." She left the room.

Danny's eyes closed as he relaxed—he could feel the weight of sleep descending on him. But then he heard Mother's voice again. "Danny? Sorry to disturb you, but... do you think Mickmi would like to come with us?"

"I don't know. Ask her," he mumbled as his mind drifted off.

∞

Danny inhaled a long breath as he floated back into awareness, but he resisted waking up. Then the swish of a page turning broke the silence. He opened his eyes to look across the coffee table, past a jug of water, two glasses, and two volumes of the encyclopedia at Mickmi's head. She looked up to meet his gaze and smiled.

"Hey," he said rustily, pushing himself up on the armrest and checked his watch: it was ten thirty. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Since eight."

"Found something interesting in there?"

"All of it is interesting."

"What... You plan to read them all from cover to cover?"

"Not read—scan. But, aye, this is my seventh."

"Whoa..." He looked at the books on the table and lifted a brow: Volume 24, 25? He was expecting to see volumes 5 and 6. "Looks like you're 'scanning'—what—a volume an hour."

She closed the book in her lap and placed it on top of the others. "A good way to gather knowledge."

He chuckled and turned on his side, studying her. "Mom thought maybe you'd go to church with her and Sis," he said after a while.

"It would be... difficult for me." She hesitated, frowning. "Georgina, she—"

"Came to the rescue?"

"Aye. After reading your Bible, it was – disconcerting..."

He understood. "Because it doesn't match what you remember."

She nodded once.

He slid his feet to the floor and sat up as she poured up a glass of water and offered it to him. He smiled and took it. "Come here, I have something to tell you."

She sat sideways beside him on the couch and waited as he drank several gulps. 

"I can confirm," he said, putting down the glass, "that what you were describing yesterday really happened. Something was on my truck the night I found you; I found scratches and black fur. Black fur: that's what the police found on the cougar, so I called them and they confirmed that a panther killed it. A black jaguar. They think it came from a zoo and it's probably back there now 'cause they haven't been able to find a trace of it." He paused a moment before continuing, "And you—you somehow managed to connect with it when it got on the truck."

"Black panther..." Mickmi's gaze was far away.

"Does that ring any bells?"

She shook her head. "Nay."

"I guess with your special... sense of perception and the state of mind you were in, you just kind of – latched onto it..."

She shifted her gaze back to him.

"Now, if you were bleeding from scratch marks, I'd understand: you had a run-in with that panther before I found you. But..."—he frowned—"you didn't have any tears on your jacket. And no such wounds on your skin. I don't think what you've got are tattoos; they don't behave like that—disappearing and reappearing again. So what I don't get is: how you got those marks in the first place... Are they still there?"

She stretched the neck-lining of her T-shirt and looked, then nodded.

"Mind if I take a closer look?"

She reached down and pulled her T-shirt over her head in one fluid motion.

"Whoa!" Danny swung his head away, putting his hand to the side of his face to hide her from view. "Sorry, Mickmi—I didn't mean..." Man, was he glad that no one else was home right now to walk in on them!

"You wanted to see," she said quietly.

"Yeah, but I didn't mean for you to take your – top off."

"Is there a problem?" She sounded hesitant.

He shook his head. "No... I mean—no, not really. I just..." He drew a deep breath, lowering his hand. "It's okay." He turned back to her, raising his eyes to meet hers, but he couldn't help but notice her bare upper body covered only by a brassiere. You're beautiful. She was flawless to him—the marks didn't matter. He saw the worried glint in her eyes, but she smiled on hearing him; and he mentally tugged himself back to business, giving her a reassuring smile.

He looked at her shoulder. The marks were faded dark brown—not bluish black like old bruises—with relatively distinct edges. Sharp-tipped and narrow at the top of her shoulder and wider at the other end as if claws had buried deeper into her flesh before pulling out with a tear—it hurt just to think about it. Danny's brow furrowed in empathy as he shifted closer to her, taking her right hand and gently twisting it inward to get a better view of the scratches on her arm. They were almost three inches long and thinner than those on her chest. He ran his fingers lightly over them: he couldn't feel any unevenness of scarring on her skin.

He looked at her shoulder again. "May I?" He met her gaze; she'd been watching his every move. She gave him a minuscule nod.

Her white bra strap was partially covering the scratches so he carefully held it aside with his fingers while using his thumb to feel her skin. Then he let his fingers trace the lines to where they ended above the lace edge of her bra. It was the same there: no scarring.

He exhaled a long breath as he slowly pulled back his hand and met her gaze again. "You didn't have wounds like these when I found you—they only showed up as bruises later. Maybe these are scars that healed so well from long ago? That flare up whenever you're upset—or whenever you remember something similar, like this panther..."

She looked thoughtfully at her arm.

"Do you remember having an encounter with a big cat before—as a child maybe?"

She shook her head.

"Do you even remember having these marks at all?"

She looked back at him, a furrow between her brows, then suddenly got up and headed for the door.

"You forgot your T-shirt..." Danny took her top and went after her. He found her in front of the hallway mirror, inspecting the lines on her chest and shoulder. He handed the T-shirt to her before tearing his gaze away from her bare skin. He reversed into the doorway and turned his back against the jamb.

"I remember not these marks from before," she said eventually. "But... whether it is that I – remember never having them – or not remembering them at all... I know not." She appeared beside him and rested a hand on his arm. "You have not eaten."

He leaned his head sideways toward her and stroked her chin. "I'm worried, Mickmi..."

"Be not."

He met her gaze across his shoulder—her eyes were bright.

"It is not all up to you," she said quietly. "I have been given time; no one looks for me."

He was shaking his head slowly. "How can you know all that?"

"I know."

He sighed, throwing a glance through the kitchen door. "Yeah, but aren't we still being watched? I've got a feeling there was a prowler around last night—or an animal, I don't know—but Zorro picked up on a scent."

She stilled herself for a moment, listening, then headed outside to the porch with him on her heels. She leaned against the balustrade, scanning the front yard from right to left, and paused at the car shed a while. Then she turned to him. "They watch us not in that way, Daniel. Not any longer... And last night is nothing to be concerned about. For now, we are safe."

He drew a long breath. "Okay... I trust your instincts..." He touched her chin again. "Let me get something to eat and get ready. Then you can show me where your memory takes you."

∞

Weaver was just about to leave when Dawson arrived with a folder and large envelope in his hand. He nodded in satisfaction: those were the lab results and prints he was waiting for. He pulled his jacket over the shoulder holster and grabbed the binoculars.

"Where are you going?" Dawson asked.

"Our subjects are on the move—on foot with the dog. But I know where they're going. Just have to get there before them and stay downwind."

"Need me out there?"

Weaver shook his head. "Just see what you can make of the prints."

∞

Danny kept Zorro on the leash and let Mickmi lead the way. She took them through the rough terrain of the woods, skirting the neighbors' backyards, one after the other. Then she stopped and surveyed the area. He looked around—he recognized the Davenport's roof glimpsing through the foliage behind him.

"I chased it—chased her—all this way...," she said eventually and started moving again, covering several yards before speaking again. "Then she headed North—but I stopped..." He came up beside her and looked in the direction her hand was pointing, then at her arm where the sleeve slid up to reveal one of the marks; it seemed to him that its color had deepened. He touched her arm, and she met his gaze—her eyes were streaked with yellow again.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded once, but her focus was elsewhere. "I picked up on something else..." She continued at a slower pace in the opposite direction. "I wanted to know what it was; it was alive—watching..." She halted again. Up ahead was a yellow police ribbon cordoning off an area. "The chase was a diversion—I lost interest... So she came after me... because I stopped following."

He drew a deep breath, steeling himself as he watched her approach the area. This was where the cougar was found—dead, with the neck torn wide open. And she was remembering it like she were here—like she were it—when all the time she was asleep in the guest room at home. His stomach was not happy at the thought. He swallowed and kept going, holding Zorro on a short leash by his side.

"But... I was only curious." She ducked under the tape, stepping into the center of the area. Danny followed her, looking around, frowning. He could see that the vegetation had gone through some ravaging here: broken branches, patches of ground cleared of undergrowth. Zorro poked his snout into the rotting leaves, sniffing loudly with intense interest.

"She came in front of me, blocked me – then..." She stepped sideways, her hands indicating in sweeping movements. "She attacked me... I attacked her... We were... everywhere—here... and here..." She swung around and caught sight of something past his shoulder—and he followed her gaze.

There, in the bark of a tree, below the police ribbon, were four long claw marks. Oh God, Mickmi...

She went to the tree and dragged her fingers along the grooves—he half expected to see claws growing out of her fingertips. Then she froze. "I..."

"Taste blood?"

Her shoulders heaved. "Aye," she breathed and hung her head. "No need – to fear." Then a moan escaped her and she abruptly ducked under the tape, walking unsteadily away. Alarmed, he hurried after her. 

"Mickmi, what's wrong?" He caught up with her after a few yards and pulled her into his arms—she was shaking. "No... no, relax, Mickmi." He dropped the dog leash and squeezed her tightly against his chest.

"No – need – to fear," she repeated through clenched teeth and leaned into him. She was breathing deeply without heaving, but she was still trembling uncontrollably, and he had to spread his feet to keep steady. Zorro paced worriedly around them with his tail low, then he sat down, pressing against her legs with a plaintive sound.

"No need for fear," Danny said and made her look at him—dark streaks were merging with the yellow and green. No need for fear, but this recurring condition worried him. He pressed his cheek against hers. "What's happening with you, Mickmi? Talk to me."

She didn't answer; she kept breathing deeply, squeezing each breath out with a hissing noise in the back of her throat. It seemed like she was bringing the tremors under control, reducing them until they only occurred as intermittent shivers.

"Daniel," she said eventually—then she stiffened in his arms with a gasp, and a quiet moan escaped her lips. She pushed herself away from him with her fist pressed against the right side of her chest, staggered to the nearest tree, and sank down between its roots.

"Mi!" Zorro reached her side before Danny could take two steps, and pushed his head under her arm; she dropped her arm around the dog and gave it a brief squeeze. Danny ordered Zorro aside and crouched beside her, gripping her shoulder; she wasn't trembling anymore. "Mi, please—talk to me!"

She pulled the neck of her T-shirt to expose her skin, and he saw to his dismay the marks were angry red like they were the first time he saw them. 

"Mi...," he breathed, wishing he could take away her pain—wishing Selina were here to explain what was going on.

Mickmi met his gaze, her eyes glistening. "She scratched me..."

"Right there?"

"Aye—before I killed her..." She caught her breath.

He could feel her pain; he pulled her hand away and squeezed it between his. Then he shifted against the tree trunk, stretching his legs out. "Okay..." He tried to pull her closer but she wouldn't come into his arms.

"I killed her," she whispered, her brows contracting. "We are not supposed to kill."

"It killed Gina's puppy."

"She... She was a female—just like I."

"Yes. But it was the panther that killed it."

"I—"

"You were sleeping, Mickmi," he said patiently, cupping her face. "In bed, in the guest room—at home."

She stared at him with tears in her eyes.

"You didn't kill it, Mickmi. The panther did; it punished the cougar. And it doesn't matter that you remember being here... I know where you were. Okay? Remember that." He waited a moment, then bent forward to kiss her on the forehead—and it was as if all the air escaped her. Only then did she allow herself to be pulled into his arms. 

— ∞ —

©2016 by kemorgan65

*Bible quote "forsaking our own assembling together" from Hebrews 10:25 (ASV).

*Banner image created in Daz 3D.