Buzzz. Ember looked up, spooked, as a fat fly flew in a circle around her head. It slipped through an open window and disappeared between the branches, the only sign of movement in the vicinity of the treehouse. She shook her head, turning to leave just as the sound of footsteps came from the deck outside.
She stepped back wildly, gripping a glass shard in her hand and pressing herself behind the door. As it swung open, she darted to the side and raised the shard—only to find Morgan on the other side.
“Woah!” The other girl shouted, holding up her hands in a sign of surrender. Her nose was twitching uncontrollably, and the scales around her shoulders were standing straight up. “We need to leave,” she whispered. “It smells like death.”
Ember narrowed her eyes, considering it. Despite the sinister atmosphere, she had a feeling that the danger had passed. “No. I think we need to figure out what happened here.” She slipped the shard into her pocket. “Come on, let’s find where the scent is the strongest.”
The two stepped back onto the deck, and, with a disapproving look, Morgan pointed overhead. “The source of the smell is up there, near the crown of the tree. But I don’t think you should go.”
“Don’t worry,” Ember reassured her, her attention already focused on the branches above. With her jaw set in determination, she climbed on the deck railing, balancing like a tightrope walker. Grabbing the supports of the tree house, she boosted herself up so that the roof was level with her waist. Then, she swung her right leg to one side, hooking it over the rim and scrambling onto the sloped planks.
“Come down,” Morgan urged. Ignoring her, Ember scrutinized the branches below the crown, searching for a path to take her to the top. Two wide branches jutted out from the trunk, one of them close enough to be a foothold. Though the angle was awkward, she used it to spring up to the next level.
Bit by bit, she neared the crown. The limbs grew thinner and bouncier, and she had to take care with the placement of each step. She was higher than she had ever been, suspended two hundred fifty feet above the forest floor. Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she kept climbing, driven by instinct and the insatiable desire to solve the mystery of the blood in the treehouse.
The smell hit her at the same time as the cloud of flies, penetrating and putrid. She gagged, clamping a free hand over her nose and mouth. Ahead was a nightmarish scene: a broken, humanoid figure draped over the fork of two branches. The exposed flesh was crawling with fat, black insects, giving it the appearance of re-animation.
Entranced, Ember moved closer, startling the insects from their meal. Within arm’s reach was the body of a youthful, orange-haired Linnaean with a long tail. Her skin was pale and blotched with purple, and her lifeless, blood-splattered face hung toward Ember, attached to her body by the few remaining tendrils of her neck.
Ember’s mouth turned sour as the image seared itself into her brain. Something—someone—had hunted and killed the woman, not to eat her, but for their own pleasure.
Horror-stricken, Ember rushed back down the tree and jumped onto the deck of the treehouse. “Are you okay?” Morgan asked, grabbing her by the shoulders to steady her.
It took Ember a moment to find her voice again. “Come, quickly,” she forced out, “we need to tell Hickory that the rogue has made its first kill.”
***
The mood in the common room of the unaffiliated dorm was somber and funereal. The students sat in small groups with blankets wrapped around their shoulders, their faces drawn and tired. They had lit candles to stave off the darkness, and the dozens of flickering lights cast oddly-shaped shadows. Ember sat against the wall, her lips drawn into a thin line. For the first time, it seemed that Linnaeans were afraid of the dark.
The manager of the dorm, Ms. Marmee, picked her way between the students to a spot near the center of the room. She cleared her throat—though the room was utterly silent—and brought a scroll to her face.
“Today is a dark day for Mendel,” she sighed. “I’m sure by now all of you have heard that the body of a graduate student was found at the aerial research station this morning. She was murdered by the rogue that was first sighted a week ago.”
The mood in the room seemed to intensify, and still, no one moved, staring at Ms. Marmee with rapt attention. “I’ve called you here to share the results of the latest briefing. At seven o’clock this evening, a second body was found by an avian officer. It was an undergraduate student, a small mammal, who appears to have been killed on the ground and dragged into the trees.”
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Shocked whispers broke out over the group, and Ember swallowed thickly, remembering the horrific scene at the station. A second body?
“T-the two victims were killed in a similar way,” Ms. Marmee continued, her voice wavering. “The final blow was dealt to the neck, and the bodies were left suspended near the tree canopy. The officers’ analysis suggested that the rogue is an arboreal and nocturnal feline. It seems to target mammalian species of small to moderate size.
“In light of this news, the lower division, upper division, and laboratories will be halting all classes for the rest of the week, and likely until the rogue is captured. The police presence on campus will be increased tenfold, and you are all encouraged to stay inside as much as possible. Undoubtedly, some Mendelians will try to hunt this rogue, but I beg of you, do not join them. As of now, none of you have the skill or prowess to face a highly-developed apex predator. So, honor the dead, and please stay safe.”
***
Ember sat up in bed, rolling her sore neck on her shoulders. The light of the sunrise shone through the cracks in the boarded-up windows, painting the bedding yellow and orange. The first days of October had come quietly, forgotten in the commotion surrounding the rogue.
She looked to her right, where Naz was curled up on a temporary mattress pad. She’d come with a suitcase on the night that Ember had discovered the body, claiming that lockdown would be too lonely in the pisces dorm.
“You’re awake,” Naz said, regarding Ember with her wide-pupiled, dewy eyes. Her face was gaunt and tired, evidence of the past five days they’d spent inside while they received news of the rogue’s kills. Two more bodies had been found, bringing the total number of victims to four.
“Yeah, I’m awake,” Ember replied, flopping back onto the mattress and staring at the ceiling. To make things worse, a gnawing sensation had developed on either side of her nose, promising to spoil her mood for another day.
“When is this going to end?” Naz groaned.
“How should I know?”
“How do you think Carn is doing?”
Ember rubbed her temples. “Don’t do that. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“You know that’s not true.”
The two fell into silence. A spider scuttled up the wall and slipped between two wooden panels, disappearing into the outside world. Ember sighed, pushing aside the dull throbbing of her head. “Why don’t we get something to eat and then go to the bathhouse? I know you must miss the water, and we both smell foul.”
“All right,” the pisces replied, rolling onto the dirt floor with a huff. Ember threw a jacket over her sleepwear and rinsed her face in the sink, trying to wash away the last of the night’s weariness.
The two left Ember’s room and padded down the hall toward the unaffiliated dorm’s small dining hall, which was tucked underneath the roots of the nearest fir tree. Even though breakfast had started just half an hour before, the wooden tables were nearly empty.
“It looks like more students went home to their families,” Ember said, grabbing a pre-loaded tray off the kitchen counter. “Have you talked to your father?”
“We exchanged messages a couple of days ago,” Naz replied. “He wants me to come home, but I’m still hoping that this will be resolved soon.”
Ember shrugged, secretly hoping that her friend would stay despite the strained atmosphere. Before she could reply, their conversation was interrupted by a group of first-year Linnaeans passing through the entrance to the hall. They chittered like a flock of parrots, seemingly unbothered by the events of the past week, and set down their trays at the table closest to Ember and Naz.
“I heard the rogue is lying low,” one of the girls announced. “There hasn’t been a kill in two days.”
“What if we went out, then?“ another whispered. Her two, half-formed ears swiveled from side to side conspiratorily. “I heard about a party on the east side of campus. We can have the canines escort us—they sent a message that they’d be going there tonight. You know, this time of year they test the new members.”
“That could be interesting,” the first girl agreed. “If we all go together, there’s no risk. Besides, the path is well-lit at night. We’ll just have to avoid the patrols.”
Ember set down her fork and stood up slowly. She took a few steps forward, placing her hands flat on the girls’ table and leaning close to the stubby-eared Linnaean. “What did you just say?”
Though they were the same age, the other girl looked nervous. “That we can go to a party, and the canines will take us?”
“Okay. And where is this party?”
“Um… it’s at the abandoned equipment room, near the amphibia dorm.”
“If you want an invite, just ask,” one of her friends laughed.
Ember stared daggers at her. “Don’t be an idiot.” She turned on her heel and sat back down with Naz, ignoring the hateful glances that followed. “Did you hear all that?”
The pisces nodded, pushing her tray to one side. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Should we tell someone?”
Naz considered it, then looked down at the table with a frown. “If we do, Carn might be expelled. Let’s give him one last chance.”
Ember frowned, realizing what she was suggesting. “I don’t know…”
“Please, Ember?”
She threaded her fingers together as a feeling of trepidation sent a shiver down her spine. “Fine. I’ll lend you an outfit if we’re going out tonight.”