《Innocent Paw》 1 The last Lullaby The world, for a time, was soft. Ash knew warmth before he knew fear. His universe was a nest of frayed blankets, tucked deep in the shadowed belly of a closet. His mother''s tongue rasped over his fur in steady strokes, her heartbeat a drum beneath his cheek. He squirmed against his siblings¡ªtwo squalling bundles of fluff¡ªbatting at their tails with milk-drunk clumsiness. A moth flickered near a sliver of light bleeding through the closet door, and Ash''s tiny claws flexed, instinct humming through him like a struck wire. *Move. Chase. Bite.* "Hush," his mother murmured, not in words but in vibration, her purr low and fraying at the edges. Her green eyes gleamed in the dark, fixed on the door. The house groaned around them, its bones settling into rot. Ash didn''t yet understand the stench¡ªmold, rust, and something thicker, fouler, clinging to the air like a poison. But his mother''s muscles trembled beneath him, and he stilled. Outside, the wind carried voices. Not human. Not alive. A guttural moan seeped through the walls, answered by the creak of floorboards upstairs. His mother''s claws unsheathed, pricking his skin. *"Stay close,"* she hissed, her breath warm and sour with hunger. Ash didn''t know "stay." He knew *milk*, and *sleep*, and the moth''s wings kissing his nose as it danced just beyond his reach. He lunged, tumbling over his sister''s tail. She yowled, swatting him, and their mother''s growl silenced them both. --- Once, there had been sunlight. The mother remembered. A child''s laughter, small hands stroking her fur. Bowls of cream, the clink of a collar bell, windows unshuttered and pooling gold on the floors. She''d been softer then, her belly round, her claws sheathed. *Safe. Warm.* Now, the child was gone. The windows were boarded, the cream replaced by puddles of rainwater lapped from cracked tiles. The collar bell lay rusted in a corner, half-buried under a crumpled newspaper. Ash pawed at the paper, its headlines bleached to ghosts: *QUARANTINE FAILS¡­ RAGE VIRUS SPREADS¡­ CDC SILENT.* The mother nudged it away with her nose. Words meant nothing to kittens. Scent meant everything. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. And the scent was wrong. Rot. Death. Metal. It clung to the house, to the air, to the man who stumbled into the hallway upstairs. --- The door slammed. Heavy footsteps faltered, dragging, as if the floor tilted beneath them. Ash''s mother stiffened, her ears flattening. A low moan echoed above them¡ªhuman, but warped, wet. A thud. A gasp. *"Hide,"* the mother breathed, shoving the kittens behind her with her paws. But Ash peered out, curiosity a bright flame in his chest. A shadow lurched into the hallway. A man, his lab coat streaked with dried blood, one eye clouded white, the other blazing with a terrible, fading lucidity. "Subject¡­ 9A," the man choked, his voice a rasp. "Immune¡­ Lila¡­ *please.*" The mother hissed, her tail lashing. The man''s milky eye fixed on the closet. He took a step forward, then crumpled to his knees. The syringe rolled from his grip, stopping inches from Ash''s paw. "No¡­ no, not yet¡ª" The man stabbed the needle into his thigh. His back arched, veins bulging black beneath his skin. A gurgle, a shudder, and then he collapsed. Silence. The mother crept forward, nostrils flaring. Ash followed, his tiny heart a trapped bird. The man''s scent was wrong¡ªsweet decay, chemical burn. His hand twitched. *"Back!"* the mother yowled. Too late. The man''s head snapped up, his jaw unhinging with a crack. A roar tore from his throat¡ªnot human, not animal. A monster. The mother lunged, a blur of claws and fury, raking at the thing''s eyes. Ash froze, his world narrowing to the splatter of black blood, the snarls, the *crunch* of teeth meeting bone. *"Run!"* his mother screamed. One kitten bolted, vanishing into the dark. The other mewled, trapped beneath the monster''s claw. Ash''s legs refused to move. He watched, helpless, as the monster''s jaws closed on his sibling''s scruff¡ª¡ª¡ª A gust of wind slammed the closet door shut. Darkness. --- Ash didn''t know how long he cowered beneath the kitchen sink, his throat raw from silent screams. The house had gone quiet again, save for the drip of blood pooling beneath the hallway door. His mother''s blood. He crept out, belly low to the ground. The monster was gone. The hallway was a carnage of claw marks and tufts of calico fur. His mother lay on her side, her flank torn open, her green eyes glassy. Ash nuzzled her, waiting for the rumble of her purr, the lick of her tongue. She stayed cold. A rat skittered past, and Ash''s body moved ¡ª*pounce, chase, survive*¡ªbut the rat vanished through a crack in the wall. Ash pressed his nose to the hole, breathing in the outside world: iron, smoke, and something wild. --- Moonlight carved the porch into silver and shadow. Ash stood at the threshold, his white paw trembling. The neighborhood sprawled before him, a graveyard of skeletons¡ªcars flipped onto their backs, houses gutted by fire, weeds clawing through concrete. And the *monsters*. Figures shuffling in the dark, their groans threading through the wind. Ash''s whiskers twitched. Somewhere, a book page fluttered, its final words smeared with blood: *If you find Subject 9A, there''s hope.* But hope, like milk, was a luxury for kittens. --- **End of Chapter 1** --- 2 Scavenger Lessons The world was louder outside. Ash crouched beneath the porch, his tail coiled tight against his belly. The wind carried voices¡ªgroans that rattled like stones in a tin can, whispers that were not whispers at all but the scrape of dead leaves on asphalt. He missed the closet. He missed the moth. He missed the warmth. He missed his Mother. But hunger gnawed at him, sharp and insistent, a predator he couldn''t outrun. --- The neighborhood was a carcass picked clean. Houses sagged, their windows shattered into jagged grins. Gardens had erupted into jungles of thorns and weeds, clutching at rusted bicycles and skeletal swing sets. Ash crept along the edge of a cracked sidewalk, his white paw glowing like a beacon in the moonlight. Every shadow pulsed with danger. He paused beside a trash can overturned in the street, its contents spilled like guts. Rotting food, shredded plastic, a shoe. Ash sniffed, his nose wrinkling at the stench. *Not food. Not food. Not¡ª* There. A scrap of meat clung to a bone, half-buried under newspaper. Ash darted forward, claws scrabbling on pavement, and seized it. His teeth sank into gristle, and he nearly gagged. Cold. Sour. *Wrong*. But his stomach screamed, and he swallowed, the taste coating his tongue like oil. A low growl sliced through the silence. Ash froze. Across the street, a shape emerged from the ruins of a garage¡ªa dog. Its ribs jutted like blades beneath mangy fur, one eye milky and swollen shut. Foam dripped from its jaws. *Run*, hissed a voice in Ash''s mind¡ªhis mother''s voice, or his own? He couldn''t tell. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The dog lunged. --- Ash bolted, the meat forgotten. His paws slipped on gravel as he veered into an alley, the dog''s snarls echoing off brick walls. Trash cans toppled behind him. He skidded around a corner, heart hammering, and leapt onto a fire escape. The dog''s teeth snapped shut on air, inches from his tail. Higher. He climbed, claws scoring metal, until he collapsed on a rooftop. The dog circled below, barking hoarsely. Ash pressed himself to the roof''s edge, trembling. The moon stared down, indifferent. When the dog finally slunk away, Ash uncurled, his breaths shallow. Below, the alley teemed with movement. Shadows shuffled¡ªnot dogs, but *things*, their limbs jerking, their mouths slack. One paused, its head tilting upward. Ash flattened himself, but the thing only groaned and shambled on. --- Dawn stained the sky the color of bruises. Ash slunk down a drainpipe, his belly hollow. He found a backyard overgrown with dandelions, their heads nodding in the breeze. Something moved in the grass. A mouse. It nibbled a seed, unaware. Ash''s muscles coiled, his tail twitching. *Pounce. Kill. Eat.* He sprang¡ª ¡ªand missed. The mouse darted into a hole, vanishing. Ash stared at the empty ground, his ears hot with shame. A scent hit him then, sweet and metallic. Blood. The mouse''s nest. Ash dug, claws tearing at dirt, until he uncovered it¡ªa pile of dead mice, their tiny bodies stiff, eyes clouded. Freshkill, buried for later. His stomach lurched. He backed away, fur bristling. *Not food. Not food. Not¡ª* But it *is* food. The mouse was gone. The trash can was rot. His mother''s milk was but a memory. Ash retched, bile burning his throat. --- He found shelter in the hollow of a dead oak, its trunk split by lightning. The air smelled of sap and decay. Ash curled into himself, licking his sore paws. Hunger carved him hollow, but sleep came anyway, fitful and thick with dreams. *His mother''s tongue rough on his fur. His sibling''s mewl. The moth, always just out of reach.* He woke to a voice. Human voice. Ash peered through the tree''s cracked bark. A figure moved in the distance, their shapes blurred by rain. Ash''s saw a red backpack. their words muffled. *"Cold. It''s cold"* Night fell again. Ash stood at the edge of the oak''s hollow, the wind plucking at his fur. Somewhere, the dog still prowled. Somewhere, the shadows moaned. But the red backpack glowed in his mind, bright as a wound. He stepped into the dark. --- **End of Chapter 2** --- 3 The Girl with the Red Backpack Humans, Ash decided, were made of contradictions. They built nests that scraped the sky but fled when the earth itself turned against them. They carried fire in their hands but screamed when it burned. And now, this one¡ªa small, two-legged creature with a red shell strapped to her back¡ªsmelled of tuna and terror. --- Ash found her in the skeletal remains of a grocery store. He''d followed the smell for miles¡ªsharp, briny, *alive*¡ªthrough alleys choked with ivy and past hollow-eyed things that reached for him with rotting fingers. The store''s windows were shattered, glass teeth lining the frames. Inside, shelves lay toppled like fallen trees, their contents spilled: cans dented, boxes bloated with mold, a single jar of honey somehow intact, golden and glowing in a shaft of sunlight. The girl crouched in the dairy aisle, her red backpack a wound of color in the gray. Her hair was a tangled nest, her face smudged with dirt, but her hands were steady as she pried open a can with a pocketknife. Tuna. Ash''s mouth flooded. He hesitated in the doorway, tail twitching. *Danger*, hissed his instincts. But¡ª*the scent*¡ªdragged him forward. A floorboard creaked. The girl froze. Her head snapped up, eyes wide and too bright, like his mother''s in the dark. --- "Hey," she whispered. Ash flattened himself behind a cereal box, heart pounding. Humans were loud, clumsy, their voices explosions. But this one spoke softly, as if she knew the weight of sound. "I see you," she said. A pause. "You''re skinny. Hungry?" She slid the can toward him, the tuna''s oil shimmering. Ash''s nostrils flared. *Trap. Trick. Torn flesh.* But his paws carried him closer, one trembling step at a time. The girl didn''t move. Her breath hitched as he neared, as if *he* were the predator. Ridiculous. She was giant, all elbows and knees, yet she looked at him like he was something fragile. Something worth saving. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Ash lunged, grabbed a shred of fish, and darted back. The tuna burst on his tongue¡ªsalt, fat, *life*¡ªand he nearly whimpered. "See? Not poison," the girl said. A shaky laugh. "My mom said cats know things. Like¡­ if people are good or bad. You think I''m good?" Ash didn''t think in *good* or *bad*. He thought in *safe* and *not safe*. This girl smelled of sweat and metal, but beneath that¡ªsunlight on dry grass. A scent that hadn''t yet curdled. He took another step. --- It came from the freezer aisle. A low, wet rattle, the sound of lungs drowning in their own decay. The girl paled. "Oh no. *No no no*¡ª" A *monster* lurched into view, its jaw unhinged, skin sloughing off in gray ribbons. It wore a store apron, the nametag still legible: *HI! I''M JEN!* The girl scrambled to her feet, clutching her knife. Ash hissed, fur on end, but the zombie''s milky eyes locked onto the tuna. It lunged. "Run!" the girl screamed¡ªto Ash or herself, he didn''t know. Chaos. The monster knocked over a shelf, sending a avalanche of soup cans crashing. The girl dodged, slashing at its legs, but the blade skidded off the bone. Ash leapt onto a display of rotten fruit, his claws finding purchase in mold-soft cardboard. *Think. Think!* His mother''s voice, or his own? *"Climb. Always climb."* "*But the girl can''t climb"*. --- Ash moved without thought. He sprang onto the monster''s back, sinking his claws into its necrotic flesh. The thing howled, swatting at him, but Ash clung like burrs to a dog''s coat. The girl stared, frozen. "Go!" Ash wanted to yowl. *"Move!"* She moved. Grabbing a jar of pickles, she hurled it at the monster''s head. Glass shattered. Vinegar and brine flooded the air, and the zombie recoiled, its screech piercing. Ash leapt free as the girl bolted for the exit. "Come on!" she cried, holding the door open. Ash hesitated. Trusting humans had gotten his mother killed. But the monster writhed, clawing at its acid-burned eyes, and the girl''s voice cracked¡ª "*Please.*" He ran. --- They collapsed behind a rusted car three blocks away, the girl''s breath sobbing in her chest. Ash crouched beside her, every muscle taut. "You¡­ you saved me," she said. A tear cut through the grime on her cheek. "Stupid cat. You shouldn''t have." Ash didn''t understand her words, but her trembling hand, hovering near his head, spoke a language older than speech. *May I?* He leaned in. Her fingers brushed his ear¡ªgentle, so gentle¡ªand something in him fractured. He hadn''t been touched since his mother''s tongue rasped over his fur. Since warmth. "I''m Lila," she whispered. "You got a name?" Ash blinked. Names were human nonsense. He was Small-Paw, Tree-Climber, Survivor. Lila studied him, her gaze lingering on his white paw. "Ash. Like the stuff left after a fire. Okay?" He didn''t protest. The name settled over him, lighter than fear. --- They walked as the sun bled out. Lila''s backpack jangled with cans, her knife gleaming at her belt. Ash kept pace, his tail flicking at every sound. He padded closer, his flank brushing her ankle. The road ahead was a scar on the earth, but for the first time since the closet, Ash didn''t feel alone. --- **End of Chapter 3** --- 4 The Journal and the Ghost Lila had sworn she''d never go back. The house stood at the end of Maple Street like a tombstone, its porch sagging, its garden strangled by thorns. Four months ago, it had been hers. Four months ago, her father had kissed her forehead, promised he''d "fix everything," and vanished into the storm of his own making. Now, as she crouched in the husk of Mrs. Callo. way''s minivan across the street, Lila wondered if the ghosts inside would recognize her. Ash''s house. Her house. --- **Three Days Before Outbreak** *"Why can''t I visit the lab anymore?"* Twelve-year-old Lila hovered in the doorway of her father''s study, clutching her cat Mittens to her chest. Dr. Elias Voss didn''t look up from his microscope. *"It''s not safe,"* he said, the way he always did¡ªlike "safe" was a word for children, not virologists. *"You said Subject 9A was special. Let me see her!"* A flinch. His pen stilled. *"She''s not a pet, Lila."* *"But you *named* her. You never name the others."* Her father finally met her gaze. His eyes were red-rimmed, his beard flecked with coffee grounds. *"Go to bed."* That night, Lila heard him arguing on the phone. *"¡ªmutating too fast. If it breaches containment¡ª¡­ No, I won''t euthanize her. She''s immune, damn it! She''s the key¡ª"* The next morning, the lab went into lockdown. --- **Present Day** Lila''s boots crunched over broken glass as she approached the house. Ash trailed her, his gray fur bristling. He''d been restless since they''d neared the neighborhood, his meows sharp with recognition. *He knows this place*, Lila realized. *He was born here.* The front door hung open, swaying on its hinges. Inside, the air reeked of mildew and something sweetly rotten. Lila''s pulse throbbed in her throat as she stepped into the foyer. *Her mother''s piano*, now gutted, its keys strewn across the floor. *Her school photos*, glass cracked, smiles sliced by shadows. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. *The closet.* Ash froze, hissing at the closet door. Lila''s flashlight beam trembled as it swept over claw marks, dried blood, and tufts of calico fur. And there lies ash''s mother rotted... "This is where it happened, huh?" she whispered. Ash yowled, slashing at a crumpled lab coat half-buried under debris. *Her father''s* lab coat. --- The journal wasn''t upstairs. Lila knew where it would be. Her father''s *sanctum*¡ªthe basement lab he''d built after the government cut his funding. "For emergencies," he''d said. The basement door was barred with a chair. Fresh barricades. "Someone''s been here," Lila muttered. Ash sniffed the stairs, growling. The lab was a nightmare of broken glass and toppled equipment. Centrifuges lay upended, their contents spilled like neon vomit. A freezer hummed in the corner, its door sealed with duct tape. And there, on a scorched desk: the journal. Lila reached for it¡ª ¡ªand froze. A shadow loomed in the doorway. --- He was still wearing his wedding ring. Dr. Voss''s skin had turned the color of storm clouds, his left arm mangled to the bone, but Lila would know him anywhere. The way he tilted his head when confused. The scar on his chin from her childhood skateboard mishap. *"Dad?"* The monster that had been her father snarled, black saliva dripping from his jaws. Ash leapt onto the desk, fur on end, but Lila stood paralyzed. *He doesn''t recognize me.* *He''s gone.* *I have to run.* But her feet were roots. The monster lunged. Ash intercepted, sinking teeth into its ankle. The creature stumbled, giving Lila time to duck behind the freezer. "Ash, *no*!" she screamed as the cat swiped at the monster''s face. Her father''s journal lay open on the desk, pages splayed like wings. **Entry ¨C 11/23:** *Subject 9A''s blood neutralizes the virus in vitro. But human trials¡­ God, what have I done? Lila, if you''re reading this, the lab''s east wing is sealed. 9A is there. Save her.* --- Ash was losing. The monster slammed him against the wall, pinning him with a rotting hand. Lila''s knife was in her grip before she could think. *Don''t look at his face.* *Don''t think.* *Just move.* She plunged the blade into the monster''s temple. It crumpled, lifeless, atop Ash. "No no no¡ª" Lila shoved the corpse aside. Ash lay still, his ribs fluttering. Blood matted his fur, but it was red, not black. *Not infected.* "You idiot," she sobbed, cradling him. "Why''d you fight him?" Ash''s green eyes narrowed. *Because he hurt you*, they seemed to say. *Because you''re mine.* --- The freezer held more than journals. Lila pried the duct tape loose, steeling herself for corpses. Instead, vials glinted in the light¡ªblood samples labeled **SUBJECT 9A**. **Entry ¨C 12/1:** *They''ll come for her. The resistance, the scavengers¡ªthey''ll dissect her, weaponize her. I moved her to the east wing, but if they trace her to this house¡­* Her father had hidden 9A''s blood here. For her. Ash nosed a crumpled photo under the desk¡ªLila, age 10, holding Mittens. *Her* cat. Her father had saved the photo, the edges worn from touch. "He loved me," she whispered. "Even at the end." Ash headbutted her hand. *I know.* --- They burned the house at dawn. Lila tossed the match, watching flames devour the curtains, the piano, her father''s body. Ash sat beside her, his tail flicking. "He wanted me to save 9A," she said. "But how? The lab''s a death trap. The resistance are hunting her. I''m just¡­ me." Ash stared at the fire, his eyes reflecting the blaze. *You''re Lila Voss. Daughter of the man who ended the world. Sister of the cat who''ll fix it.* She slid the journal into her backpack, vials clinking against her ribs. "Let''s go, Ash." They walked east, toward the lab, as the sun rose behind them. --- **End of Chapter 4** --- 5 The Rifle and the Rot-Walkers Humans lied. Not with words¡ªAsh couldn''t fully understand those¡ªbut with their bodies. Their too-loud laughter, their trembling hands, the way their eyes darted like prey even as they aimed weapons. The man with the rifle was no different. Lila called him *Garrett*. Ash called him *Danger*. --- They found him at noon. Lila had insisted on backtracking, her fingers tight around her knife. "we saw the smoke at dawn," she''d said, though Ash didn''t know *smoke*. He knew fire¡ªthe crackle, the heat, the way it turned nests to ash. But he followed, drawn by the uneasy tilt of her voice. Garrett''s camp was a gutted gas station, its roof sagging under the weight of crows. He sat by a fire, a rabbit skewered on a spit, his rifle propped against a pump. Ash smelled: gunpowder, blood, and beneath it, the sour tang of fear in him. "Don''t," Lila whispered, grabbing Ash''s scruff as he bristled. "He''s got food. And bullets. We need both." Ash didn''t care about bullets. He cared about the way Garrett''s gaze snagged on Lila''s backpack, hungry and calculating. --- Garrett was all teeth. A smile that didn''t reach his eyes. "Well, look what the cats dragged in. Lila stiffened. "Heard the resistance chattering. They''re all hunting that immune kitten¡ªSubject 9A." He tore a strip of rabbit meat, grease glistening on his fingers. "Lab''s a death trap. Rot-walkers packed in there like sardines." *Rot-walkers*. Ash''s ears twitched. A better word than *monsters*. It fit the things'' lurching gait, the way their flesh sloughed like rotten fruit. Lila edged closer to the fire. "You''ve been to the lab?" "Once. Got this from the parking lot." Garrett tossed her a keycard, its edges crusted with dried blood. "Swipe it at the east gate." "Why help us?" "Call it¡­ sentimental." His smile widened. "Your daddy saved my brother. Before the world went to hell." "You know my father?" Ash hissed. *Lie*, his instincts screamed. *Lie, lie, lie.* This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. --- Garrett offered to escort them. "a kid and a cat won''t last an hour out here," he said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. Lila agreed, her hope a bright, fragile thing. They hadn''t walked half a mile when the rot-walkers found them. Three of them, maybe once a family¡ªa man, a woman, a child¡ªtheir skin mottled gray, their mouths gaping holes. The child''s jaw hung by a tendon, clicking as it lurched toward Lila. Garrett fired. The shot tore through the silence. The child-rot''s skull exploded, painting the asphalt black. Lila screamed. Ash''s claws unsheathed, his pulse a drumbeat in his ears. "Run!" Garrett barked, shoving Lila toward an alley. "They''ll come to the noise!" They did. Dozens of them, drawn by the gunshot, their groans harmonizing into a dreadful chorus. Ash leapt onto a dumpster, yowling to distract them. A rot-walker with a mangled arm swiped at him, but Garrett''s bullet took it down. "This way!" Garrett hauled Lila into a boarded-up diner, Ash darting between their legs. --- The diner stank of mildew and rust. Moonlight bled through cracks in the boards, slicing the dark into jagged lines. Lila crouched behind a counter, her breath ragged. Garrett reloaded his rifle, his hands steady. "Why''d you really help us?" Lila whispered. Garrett paused. "Your dad''s journal. The resistance want it. Says how to ID Subject 9A." Ash''s fur rose. *The journal.* Lila recoiled. "You''re a scavenger." "Everyone scavenges now, kid. Even you." His gaze flicked to her backpack. "But I''ll cut you a deal. You give me the journal, I get you to the lab. No bullets in your back. Promise." Lila''s hand crept to her pack. Ash saw the glint of her knife. "Don''t," Garrett warned. "You''ll bring every rot-walker in the county down on us." A thud shook the door. Then another. The rot-walkers were coming. --- Garrett pressed his ear to the door. "Back exit. Through the kitchen. Move." Lila didn''t move. "The journal''s gone. Burned." *Lie*, Ash marveled. Humans *could* learn. Garrett''s jaw tightened. "Then we''re all dead." The door splintered. A clawed hand groped through the crack. Ash lunged, biting down on the rotting fingers. The taste¡ªputrid, chemical¡ªmade him gag, but he held on. "Kitchen!" Garrett shouted. They ran, Ash trailing the stench of rot. The kitchen was a tomb of rusted appliances, the back door chained shut. Garrett slammed his rifle butt against the lock. "Hurry!" Lila begged. The rot-walkers flooded the diner, their moans echoing off the tiles. Ash leapt onto a fridge, his claws screeching against metal. Below, the child-rot crawled, its shattered skull leaking black ooze. The chain broke. Cold air rushed in. "Go!" Garrett shoved Lila outside, turning to fire at the horde. Ash leapt after her¡ªthen froze. Garrett wasn''t following. --- "Go, you idiot!" Garrett snarled, but his eyes were on Lila. "Get to the lab. Find 9A." "Why?" Lila cried. He didn''t answer. A rot-walker seized his arm, teeth sinking into his shoulder. Garrett roared, emptying his rifle into the crowd. Lila ran. Ash followed, the gunshots fading behind them. --- They didn''t stop until the sun rose, painting the sky in feverish reds. Lila collapsed against a highway guardrail, her sobs raw and gasping. Ash nudged her hand, unsure. "He¡­ he saved us," she choked. "Why?" Ash didn''t know. Humans were contradictions. But in Garrett''s final moments, Ash had smelled it¡ªthe shift in his scent. Gunpowder to grief. Lies to truth. Lila unzipped her backpack, pulling out a leather-bound journal. The Scientist''s. *"Subject 9A exhibits no viral replication¡­ potential for antigenic resistance¡­"* Ash. Thought of Garrett''s smile, all teeth and lies. Of his blood, black and bubbling. *Rot-walkers started human*, he realized. Maybe heroes did too. --- **End of Chapter 4** --- 6 The Camp Of Thorns The road to the lab was a scar. It cut through forests choked with ivy, over bridges skeletal with rust, past towns where rot-walkers pooled in doorways like stagnant water. Lila walked as if in a trance, her hand drifting to the vials hidden in her backpack. Ash kept pace, his senses sharpened to the hum of danger¡ªthe "wrongness" in the air, thickening with every mile. --- They found the first body at noon. A man hung from a telephone pole, his throat slit, a symbol carved into his chest: **R** circled by thorns. Lila gagged, pressing her sleeve to her nose. Ash sniffed the blood¡ªfresh, human. "The Resistance," Lila muttered. "They mark their territory. Means we''re close." *Resistance.* The word meant nothing to Ash, but the scent clinging to the corpse¡ªgun oil, sweat, and the metallic tang of ambition¡ªcurled his lips in a snarl. A twig snapped. Ash whirled, hissing. A figure stepped from the treeline, hands raised. A girl, no older than Lila, her hair shorn to stubble, a bow slung over her shoulder. "Easy, strays," she said. Her voice was gravel and honey. "You''re in the resistance turf. State your biz." Lila''s hand hovered near her knife. "Passing through. To the lab." The girl laughed. "Lab''s a tomb. Only fools and corpses go there." "We''re not fools." "Prove it." The girl''s gaze sharpened. "What''s in the bag?" Ash lunged, teeth bared, but the girl nocked an arrow in one fluid motion. "Cute cat. Shame if he lost an eye." Lila stepped between them. "We have something your leader wants. Subject 9A''s blood." The girl froze. "Bullshit." Lila unzipped her pack, revealing a vial. The girl''s breath hitched. "Follow me." --- The resistance''s camp was a hive of violence. Tents mushroomed in a clearing, strung with lanterns made from skulls. Men and women sharpened blades, their laughter too loud, their eyes too bright. Ash flattened his ears, his tail thrashing. *Predators. All.* If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The girl¡ª**Jessa**¡ªled them to a trailer crowned with barbed wire. Inside, a woman lounged on a moth-eaten couch, her boots propped on a rot-walker''s severed head. "Raven," Jessa said. "They claim they''ve got 9A''s cure." **Raven** studied Lila like a butcher sizing up a carcass. "Let''s see." Lila held out a vial. Raven snatched it, holding it to the light. "Where''d you steal this?" "My father made it. Dr. Elias Voss." The trailer stilled. Raven''s smile turned feral. "Voss''s kid. Oh, this is rich. Your daddy''s the reason we''re all rotting." Lila flinched. Ash growled, low and warning. Raven tossed the vial to Jessa. "Test it. On the prisoner." --- The "prisoner" was a boy, shackled to a post, his skin blistered with rot. *Turning*, Ash realized. The boy''s eyes were still human¡ªterrified. Jessa hesitated. "Raven, he''s just a scav¡ª" "Do it." The vial''s contents glowed as Jessa injected them. For a moment, nothing. Then the boy screamed, veins bulging black. His jaw unhinged, his fingers clawing at the dirt until they bled. "No no no¡ª" Lila whispered. The boy fell silent, his body seizing. Then, impossibly, his blisters faded. His eyes cleared. "Holy shit," Jessa breathed. Raven grinned. "We''re gonna be kings." --- They took Lila''s pack. Ash fought, teeth sinking into a rebel''s wrist, but a kick sent him sprawling. Lila screamed his name as they dragged her away. "You''ll brew us more," Raven said, dangling the journal over a fire. "Or your cat becomes a rug." Lila spat in her face. The rebels locked Ash in a chicken-wire cage, the rot-walker boy crumpled beside him. The boy''s scent was wrong¡ªhalf-alive, half-dead. Ash hissed, but the boy only wept. "I''m sorry," he mumbled. "I''m sorry¡­" --- Midnight. The camp slept, drunk on victory. The rot-walker boy stirred. "Hey¡­ cat." His voice was a rasp. "Can you¡­ get these chains?" Ash glared. *Traitor. Killer.* "Please. I don''t¡­ want to die like this." Ash''s claws flexed. *Hate. Hate. Hate.* But the boy''s tears smelled like Lila''s. He slipped a paw through the wire, hooking the keyring from a sleeping guard''s belt. The boy freed himself, then Ash. "Thank y¡ª" Ash slashed his arm. *Warning. Not friend.* The boy fled. Ash crept to the trailer, where Lila''s sobs guided him. --- Lila huddled in a corner, her face bruised, the journal clutched to her chest. Ash nuzzled her hand. *Up. Move. Now.* They slipped past snoring rebels, but Raven stood at the gate, her rifle gleaming. "Knew you''d run," she said. Lila stepped forward. "You don''t want the cure. You want a weapon." "Same thing these days." Ash lunged, knocking the rifle aside. Raven grabbed Lila''s hair, but the rot-walker boy emerged from the shadows, biting into her throat. Chaos erupted. Member of the Resistance woke to screams and gunfire. Ash dragged Lila into the woods as flames consumed the camp¡ªthe boy had kicked a lantern into the tents. --- They collapsed miles away, the lab''s silhouette piercing the horizon. Lila trembled. "That boy¡­ he saved us." Ash licked her bruised knuckles. *We saved him first.* She opened the journal, its pages singed. **Entry ¨C 12/5:** *The cure requires live cells from 9A. The blood alone isn''t enough.* Lila''s tears hit the paper. "We need the kitten. Not just her blood." Ash pressed his forehead to hers. *Then we find her.* --- **End of Chapter 5** --- 7 the Storm --- The sky split open an hour after dawn. Rain fell in sheets, turning the forest into a drumbeat of chaos. Lila stumbled, her boots sinking into mud as lightning seared the horizon. Ash clung to her shoulders, his claws pricking through her coat, his growls harmonizing with the thunder. "We need shelter!" Lila shouted, but the wind stole her words. They found it in a derelict ranger''s tower, its stairs creaking under their weight. Inside, mold festered on maps pinned to the walls, and the skeleton of a long-dead hiker sat slumped in the corner. Lila dropped her pack, trembling as she lit a match. Ash paced, his fur sparking with static. "Members of the Resistance will track us here," Lila muttered, rifling through the journal. "We need to cross the river before¡ª" A gunshot cracked. The window shattered. --- "Hello, little liar." Jessa stood in the doorway, her bow drawn, rainwater slicing off her shorn hair. Behind her, two rebels leveled rifles¡ª*survivors of the firestorm*. Ash hissed, fangs bared, but Lila raised her hands. "You''re supposed to be dead," Lila said. "You''re supposed to be obedient." Jessa''s smile was a knife. "Raven''s gone. But the resistance isn''t. And we want that cure." Ash leapt, but a net snared him midair, its wires biting into his flesh. Lila screamed, lunging, but a rifle butt slammed into her temple. Darkness. --- Lila woke to the taste of blood and the rumble of engines. A resistance truck sped down a flooded highway, its bed lined with cages. Ash was gone. Her backpack, too. Only the journal remained, tucked into her waistband¡ª*they missed it*. A resistance member with a serpent tattoo sneered. "Sleeping beauty''s up." "Where''s my cat?" Lila rasped. "Rat''s probably roadkill by now." This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. She lunged, rattling the cage. "I''ll kill you!" The man laughed. "You''re worth more alive, Voss. Once we reach the new camp, you''ll brew us enough cure to trade for an army." *New camp*. The resistance had regrouped. Stronger. --- Ash writhed in the net, the storm drowning his yowls. The humans had tossed him into the mud, a "gift for the rot-walkers." But Ash was no gift. He gnawed the wires, blood slicking his jaws, until the net frayed. Freedom tasted of rain and rage. He tracked the truck''s tire marks, but the floodwaters rose, washing the road away. *Lila. Lila. Lila.* Her scent faded. His fault. A growl rumbled behind him. A rot-walker bear, its fur sloughing off, ribs open. Ash ran. --- The new resistance fortress was a prison turned stronghold, its walls crowned with rot-walker skulls. Lila was dragged into a cell, where Jessa awaited, holding a syringe of 9A''s blood. "You''ll teach us to make more," Jessa said. "Or we''ll dissect you and reverse-engineer it." Lila spat blood. "You need me alive." "Alive, yes. Whole?" Jessa shrugged. "Debatable." Night fell. Lila traced her father''s journal entries, her mind snagging on a phrase: *"Live cells require proximity. Symbiosis, not slaughter."* *Symbiosis*. She hid the journal under loose bricks, her plan coiling tight. --- At dawn, Lila bargained. "I''ll make your cure," she told Jessa. "But I need equipment. And a test subject." Jessa smirked. "We''ve got plenty of *subjects*." They brought her a rot-walker¡ªa teen girl, her wrists raw from shackles. Lila injected her with 9A''s blood, hands steady. "Will it hurt?" the girl whispered. "Yes," Lila said. "But not forever." The girl''s screams brought resistance members running. Lila used the chaos to pocket a scalpel. --- Ash wandered into a kingdom of strays. A colony of feral cats ruled a junkyard, their leader a one-eyed tom named **Grim**. They''d domesticated rot-walkers, luring them into pits as hunting sport. "Join us," Grim rasped. "Humans are weak. Prey." Ash''s ears flattened. *Lila isn''t prey.* But he stayed, learning their ways¡ªhow to steer rot-walkers with light. Nights, he stared at the moon, wondering if Lila saw it too. --- A resistance patrol passed the junkyard, their truck splattered with mud. Ash caught Lila''s scent¡ª*fear, salt, steel*. He followed, stealthy as shadow, to a cliffside cave. Inside, stockpiled weapons and a radio chattered: *"¡ªshipment en route to the prison. Voss is compliant¡ª"* Ash memorized the coordinates scratched on a crate. *N33¡ã 44.577 W117¡ã 52.341*. Then he fled, Grim''s warnings echoing: *"Trust no human. Not even yours."* --- Days blurred. Lila sabotaged batches, slipped poisons into rebel rations, and whispered to test subjects: *"The east gate. At moonrise."* A boy with half-cured eyes nodded. *"We''ll be ready."* But Jessa watched, always watching. "You''re lying," Jessa said, pressing a knife to Lila''s throat. "The cure''s unstable." Lila smiled. "Took you long enough." --- Ash stood at the cliff''s edge, the prison looming below. *Save Lila.* *Or warn the feral court about the resistance arms.* He yowled into the void, torn. Then he turned toward the prison. *Always Lila.* --- End of chapter 7 ---