The weekend and the following week went by in a similar fashion. Before he knew it, it was early Thursday morning, and he was returning to the scavenger compound on orders from Mitchell so they could prepare for President Smith’s tour of the facility. Mitchell wanted his best crews on site to put on an impressive show, so that the president might be more inclined to shift a little extra federal funding their way. The compound was already immaculately clean; Mitchell ran a tight ship. But now he was seeing dust where there was none, and Kane called him out on it a few times. The other crew members thanked Kane profusely—after Mitchell was out of earshot, of course—and Kane smiled politely at them. Mentally he doubled down on his promise to himself to be friendlier towards the other scavengers, now that his eyes had been opened by Rebecca and Rafael.
The all-important hour came the next day after lunch, when the secret service came in to clear the building and set up a perimeter. They instructed all people remaining on site to store all weapons inside the requisition cage and report to the lobby of the compound, where they had set up temporary metal detectors. This was no easy feat; most scavengers were armed to the teeth at all times. Thus, it required more time than the secret service had anticipated, leaving the president pacing out front with a growing look of anger on his face.
At last, as the final scavenger made it through the metal detector, the president burst through the door, an impressive grin plastered on his face. Deliberately making eye contact with everyone present, he walked up to Mitchell and shook his hand. A photographer Kane had not even noticed snapped a picture, and Kane pivoted around to catch sight of the mouse-man disappearing into the crowd.
The president, a massive tiger-man, and Mitchell were almost the same height, with Mitchell winning by an inch or two, and the pair seemed to take up the entire room. But the president was a Purist Siberian Tiger. When the Cure rained down from the sky, he had been living in a penthouse apartment with his wife and one of the last mated pairs of Siberian tigers on the planet. He had been a New York senator at the time and had served in the military as well, but his family was well connected. Despite the fact that he had never seen combat, it was rumored that he had never lost a fight.
The president had hit the genetic lottery at birth, with a three-time Super Bowl champion quarterback for a father and a former professional tennis player and world-renowned scientist for a mother. He had caused a stir when instead of entering the NFL draft like many assumed he would, he joined the military. His college had won the championship four years straight with him playing quarterback, and he would have gone on to lead whichever NFL team he landed on to many Super Bowl wins as well. After his impressive stint in the military, he came back home with the lofty goal of becoming a senator, and just like that, he became the youngest one ever at the staggering age of thirty.
The president shook a few more hands as Mitchell led him into the warehouse. Kane purposefully fell behind as the huge crowd followed the two around the building. Two of the secret service agents broke off from the group and held back, keeping him in their sights. He nodded politely but continued following the entourage at a distance.
About thirty minutes in, they approached the giant requisition counter next to the vehicle lockup. As Mitchell began explaining the requisition and bounty process, the president nodded and asked about the permitting process as well. Launching into another explanation, Mitchell scanned the crowd. Spotting Kane, he waved and called him over.
“Mr. President, this is Kane Blackburn, one of our best scavengers. I will let him explain how they find new spots, because he knows better than I.” With a wink at Kane, Mitchell took a step back. Barely disguising an eye roll in Mitchell’s direction, Kane plucked out his map.
Unfolding it, he began, “One of our primary goals while out scavenging is scouting and information gathering. We can do one of two things with this information: share it for a bounty and a cut of the profits or save it for ourselves and keep all of the profits.”
Before Kane could continue, the president stiffened, staring intently at the map. Abruptly he stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in his exquisitely tailored suit.
“Thank you, everyone,” he said, looking around at the group, “but I think that is all we have time for today.” He glanced at Mitchell and gestured, and with that, they retired to Mitchell’s office.
“What was dat about?” Rafael asked as he approached Kane.
“I don’t know.” Kane scrutinized the office and the six secret service operatives blocking the door and windows.
“Looked like ’e almost shit ’imself… Did you not get a shower dis morning?” Rafael said while sniffing Kane, then he pinched his nose with a mocking smile. Kane slugged him in the shoulder, and Rafael stumbled away laughing.
“I smell better than you did last weekend during the poker game!” Kane called after him.
A few hours later, after everyone had obtained their weapons from the requisition cage, Mitchell called them all together to give them the good news. “The president approved our increase in funding!” he said boisterously. Everyone cheered. Once the noise died down, he continued, “I’m extremely proud of every single one of you. We have not lost anyone in a few months now, and we are proving ourselves more and more useful as resources inside the wall start to dwindle. In the future, the president has promised to start offering us government-funded bounties for stuff they need. A few things he said are becoming scarce are copper, computer chips, and cotton. That is going to open the entire wilderness back up! Everywhere we have stripped the towns clean will be reopened for new resource reclamation. We’re all going to get just a bit richer in the near future!”
The cheer that went up was much louder and lasted much longer. With a smile, Mitchell found Kane and waved him over again. “Let’s head to my office for a chat,” he said, putting his arm over Kane’s shoulder and leading him that way.
As Kane sat down across from him, Mitchell leaned against his desk and let out a long sigh. “I’m glad that’s over. It has been a long time since I’ve had to kiss that much ass.”
Kane laughed and leaned back in his chair. “I doubt that,” he said, barely dodging a kick to his shin in the process.
“You impressed the president, by the way,” Mitchell said. “He asked a ton of questions about you.”
Kane leaned forward with a concerned expression.
“What’s wrong?” Mitchell asked, seeing the confusion on his face. “That’s a good thing! I told him I’m grooming you to be my second-in-command, and he seemed thrilled with the idea.”
“It just feels off, you know?” Kane scratched his head. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I did something to offend him.”
“Nonsense,” Mitchell said with a shake of his head. “Don’t get bent out of shape over nothing.”
“If you say so.”
. . . . .
Another week of scavenging flew by uneventfully—other than a run-in with the eagle-rattlers—and before long, he was pulling into his driveway for another much-needed weekend. After a surprisingly good night’s sleep on the couch following yet another episode of his wife’s withdrawals, he checked on her to find that her transformation had already faded. The duration of the mutations was shorter and shorter each time—as were her spells between needing a fix.
With a sigh, he walked downstairs to check on Harry, who was still glued to the N64 mini. Kane had been worried that he’d overhyped the video games of that era, but as Harry happily lost himself in each new game he tried, it seemed his son was far from disappointed.
“I’m heading out for a bit, Harry,” Kane called, trying to get his son’s attention. “… Harry?”
“All right, Dad,” he responded distractedly.
“Harry,” Kane said more sternly. Harry twitched and paused his game, giving his father his full attention. “Do you need anything while I’m out?”
“Nah, I’m good, Dad.”
“Don’t forget your exercises,” Kane reminded him, nodding to the assortment of gym equipment.
“I won’t, Dad,” Harry replied, gaze flicking back to his video game.
Kane hopped in the SUV and headed into the city, intending to stop by the Buddhist temple and visit with Master Tieng. One would think it would be less crowded in the city, but behind the walls of Newmerica, the population had built back up to almost two hundred million people, from Montauk to Brooklyn and Brighton to Mount Vernon. Many houses had to be built, and a few factories and skyscrapers were converted into apartments, but everyone fit comfortably, and the homeless were a thing of the past. All the spaces in between the buildings had been converted into farmland to support the huge population.
Even though only half of that population drove cars, traffic was still gridlocked much of the time. Kane managed to make it over to the monastery in two hours, located in a huge, converted country club. They had stripped most of the grandeur from it and let nature reclaim the space, and the surrounding grounds and golf course were now a beautiful tiny forest full of rare plants, Japanese cherry trees, and weeping willows.
Kane walked up to the door, and as always, it opened before he even knocked. Most of the monks and people that lived here were Purists, but they welcomed people of all shapes and sizes. (He was not able to contain a snort of laughter at the unintentional double entendre.)
Banko, the Purist rabbit that had opened the door for him, heard the snort and looked at him questioningly. Kane quickly schooled his features, but the monk’s face remained impassive as ever as he led him towards the inner courtyard, despite Kane never announcing whom he was here to see. As they walked through the giant arch, the rabbit-man whirled and disappeared back down the hallway.
Kane approached the rock that Master Tieng was perched upon, and the Purist praying mantis’s two-foot antennae twitched in his direction. Tieng did not acknowledge his presence immediately, but after a few moments, he slowly turned to face Kane. The giant yellow orbs that were Tieng’s compound eyes seemed vaguely focused on him, but you could never tell exactly where he was looking. Sprouting out of the wrists of his human hands, his mantis tibia folded back towards his elbow, its extremely sharp spikes clicking against the equally sharp serrated spikes on his forearm.
“It’s been a while, Kane. Why have you decided to grace us with your presence after such a long absence?” Tieng asked.
Kane bowed deeply. When he stood, he found that Tieng had jumped down from the rock and landed silently in front of him. Kane did not twitch, like he had the first hundred times Tieng had soundlessly surprised him, but he was disappointed that his newly heightened senses still were not keen enough to detect the movement.
Though he knew it was coming, Kane was still too slow to avoid the inevitable leg sweep. He landed flat on his back and stared up at the blue sky through the opening in the roof—a familiar site after so many falls. Sighing, he but did not bother getting up. There was always a second leg sweep, and just lying there was the only way he was ever able to aggravate Tieng. He looked to the side to see that Tieng was back up on his rock. Kane rolled onto his side, and never taking his eyes off of the mantis-man, he slowly got to his feet.
What Kane always assumed was an attempt at a smile crossed Tieng’s mandibled face. “So untrusting, Kane.”
“Years of practice,” he grumbled.
“Although I love you as if you were one of my own children, I am not happy to see you. You only come see us now when you need something.”
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“That’s not true,” Kane said defensively.
“Then why are you here?”
Kane was struck speechless, backed into a corner, and Tieng knew it. “I…” Kane trailed off. “I need your help,” he finished lamely.
Tieng leaped down from the rock and landed in front of Kane once more. “Then earn it,” Tieng said as he went for another leg sweep.
Kane lifted his left foot and kicked backwards with his right as he avoided the sweep, but Tieng was on him in a flash. In a flawless demonstration of the Northern Style, Tieng began spinning and twirling, sending kick after kick into Kane’s guard. They came so fast and he moved so fluidly that Kane had no time to counter. After a few minutes and many bruises, he was jarred out of his trance when Tieng switched to Luohan Quan and pummeled him with a flurry of punches. Once again, he could do nothing but try to block the attacks thrown his way.
After a few minutes, of this he was shocked to realize that he was starting to see holes in Tieng’s style. His master had never come at him this hard before; he was surprised that he was still conscious. Spotting an opening, Kane finally threw his first punch of the fight, but Tieng caught his hand and wrenched it painfully behind him. Kane prepared for the inevitable throw, but it did not come; he was pushed forward instead. Losing his balance, he tumbled forward and landed unceremoniously on the ground. He sprang to his feet and whirled around, but Tieng was back up on his high rock.
“Not bad. Again,” Tieng insisted, coming back to the ground. His slow sways paired with jerky movements told Kane he had switched to Drunken Style. Kane had always hated this method for its unpredictability. He decided to try and overwhelm Tieng with Muay Thai. It did not work; he spit blood as he picked himself up off the ground. Tieng taunted him then with the signature come-and-get-me gesture. Knowing it was folly, Kane charged him—and was surprised to feel his shoulder connect with Tieng’s abdomen.
The stars he saw after an elbow to the back of his head were less of a surprise. Kane growled, trying to clear his mind, but the blow still rang through his consciousness. The growl cut off promptly as his master glided seamlessly into his deadliest technique: Mantis Style. Kane had laughed the first time he saw Tieng use this technique, thinking it a little too on the nose. But the unstoppable lethal force Tieng presented with this technique was enough to make the meanest monsters roaming the land flee in terror.
Kane braced himself for the inevitable onslaught. Tieng did not move. So Kane took the opportunity to try to enter his zen state, but he was unsuccessful.
“Kane, you are not of one mind anymore. There are two where once there was one. You must reconnect these two minds if you wish to find your way.” Noting his bewildered look, Tieng continued, “Yes, Kane, I knew as soon as you came through the door that you had finally joined the ranks of consumers.”
“Help me, Master,” Kane begged.
“I have already taught you how, when you first came here as a broken man after the massacre at Bucharest. You were of two minds then, as well—two human minds, but divided just the same.”
Kane reflected on those early months after he’d been discharged. Shrinks, pills, alcohol, even dabbling in drugs—he had tried everything to erase the images of the shredded children from his mind. Nothing had worked, and in desperation he had tried doing all of them at once, he wound up overdosing on the front lawn of Master Tieng’s old temple a few miles from here. Tieng had nursed him back to health and helped him through his withdrawals, but his mind was broken. It took many days before Kane began to wander around the small temple, witnessing Tieng’s students and colleagues achieve impossible feats of willpower through the discipline of meditation. Kane tried to copy these techniques on his own until Tieng offered him a spot at the temple.
For three years, Kane had practiced and lived with the monks, almost becoming one himself many times, but never fully committing. He began going to DAA meetings as well, which was where he met Miranda. They started dating not long after, and subsequently, he spent less and less time at the temple. Those had been the best years of his life. But all good things come to an end; India had descended into chaos, and it spread across the globe too rapidly to be stopped just as Miranda became pregnant with Harry.
Kane slowly came back to the present to see Master Tieng sitting on the rock, watching him.
“You lapsed too far,” he admonished Kane. “Remember your training.”
Kane tried again, and after a few minutes, he found the rat crawling around in his mind. It was scared, scampering away from him every time his inner gaze landed on the feral, filthy black creature. He tried speaking to it soothingly, but nothing seemed to work. Following his instincts, he began building mental walls around the rat, cutting off its escape. It grew frantic, even harder to trap, but he was finally able to get it walled in, and then he began shrinking the box. Once it was condensed into a cube barely four feet across, he climbed inside.
He sat down on the floor, as far away from the rat as he could manage, and just watched. The rat cowered in a ball for a long moment before it finally looked up at him with scared but shockingly intelligent eyes. Sniffing in his direction, it slowly unfurled itself, approaching him cautiously. Kane stuck out his hand. The rat sniffed his finger, then bit him sharply. Kane snatched his hand away, sucking on the small pinprick of blood welling there.
The rat was still standing there, looking up at him curiously. Kane slowly extended his hand again, this time palm up. The rat put one tiny paw on the tip of his ring finger. Slowly, never breaking eye contact, it climbed into his hand.
There was a sudden flash of white light, and the rat melted into his hand. Kane’s eyes rolled back in his head as the ancestral knowledge of the rat flooded his mind. When he opened them again, a pristine white rat was curled up asleep in the corner of the cage.
Kane opened his eyes and once again came face-to-face with Tieng. He stumbled backwards in alarm, and Tieng’s face broke into what he assumed was a grin.
“Prepare yourself,” Master Tieng said, and with that little warning, he resumed his attack.
Tieng seemed to move slower as Kane watched him drop back into Luohan Quan, raining punches. Not only was Kane able to block them all, but to his surprise, he spotted a hole in the attack and sent a punch flying into Tieng’s abdomen.
“Good,” Tieng said approvingly, switching into Northern Style. The kicks were faster and deadlier than before, but once again, after a few exchanges, Kane saw an opening and swept Tieng’s leg. Though it landed solidly, Tieng’s great wings unfurled from his back, and he hovered backwards. Once again, he landed on his giant rock in the middle of the courtyard, staring at Kane for a long while before finally speaking.
“That’s all I am able to teach you, my son.”
“I will come back, Master,” Kane vowed. “I still have much to learn.”
Before he could say more, Tieng raised a hand. “No, Kane, you will not. I am dying, and I do not have much time left on this earth.”
Kane gasped, stepping towards him, but he was stopped by the hand again.
“Fear not, my son, for I have lived a grand life, and I have honed the minds of hundreds of young protégés. But despite all that, I do have a favor to ask of you.” Tieng’s wings unfurled again, and he landed gracefully in front of Kane for probably the last time. He gently removed a small object from the folds of his flowing robes and placed it on Kane’s palm. It looked like an ootheca
“It will never hatch, but it is alive. One day, in a time of great need, you will discover the purpose of this gift. Until then, keep it with you, and keep it safe.” Tieng placed both hands on Kane’s shoulders and looked at him carefully. “I always knew there was something special about you, and I hope that one day soon, you will realize it as well.”
Slowly Tieng guided Kane back to the entrance of the monastery. They walked and talked about many things of little importance, and as the door of the monastery closed behind Kane for the last time, he found his heart was not as heavy as he’d thought it would be.
. . . . .
The next day after lunch, Kane drove out to see his brother. It had been a while since he had spoken to him, and Miranda wanted Kane to invite him over for supper.
Even though the world had become a darker place, man’s basic instincts were as strong as ever, if not stronger. The already tantalizing allure of the flesh had grown immensely as much of the population became more animalistic. And the strip club where Bill worked was one of the best clubs in the city. He had worked there his whole adult life, moving out at the age of seventeen after he got his GED. A year younger than Kane, he resembled their mother, who had been almost a foot taller than their diminutive father of five feet, six inches. Bill had wrestled all throughout middle and high school, and after a failed stint in mixed martial arts, he moved to the city.
He was only six foot five when he started working, making him one of the shortest bouncers on staff. But after the Downfall, he had become obsessed with the idea of becoming a minotaur, a common character in the books they had read as children. He soon tracked down the biggest Chianina bulls he could find, and overnight he became one of the biggest men in the city at over ten feet tall. He was now running one of the most successful strip clubs in the city, and he was very partial to any type of cat-girl he could get his hands on. Boasting more than fifteen breeds of felines in an array of colors and patterns, he had at least fifty girls on staff that performed in many different acts. He was even able to draw a broader audience in with more tasteful burlesque performances in the converted opera house, which had been added on to substantially. As Kane pulled into the parking lot, he laughed as always at the giant forty-foot-tall sign that read, Purrlesque!
Thankfully it was early, or the huge parking lot would already be full. He got out of this SUV and walked towards the door, where a half-ram, half-hawk bouncer stood waiting, almost seven feet tall.
He smiled as Kane approached. “Long time no see, Kane,” he said, holding the door open for him.
“Looking good, Bubba,” Kane replied as he entered the club.
Purrlesque was an amazing place, and Bill was primarily responsible, pouring his heart and soul into every inch of the place. He had shadowed the former club owner for years, until Sam finally agreed to mentor him. He taught Bill everything he knew in the years that followed, and when Sam had passed eight years ago, Bill bought the old opera house and remodeled it into what it was today, in Sam’s memory. Every single patron from the old club had begged Bill to take over, and they had been rewarded handsomely for their faith in him.
Kane tried to sneak upstairs to Bill’s office, but he was spotted by Gwen, the only non-feline girl in the club, and she trilled loudly with pleasure. Gwen was a Purist snowy owl who just so happened to be his fellow scavenger’s twin sister.
“Kane! Are you trying to sneak off without even saying hi after finally burying the hatchet with my sister, Rebecca?” she asked in the most beautiful singsong voice.
“I would never try to avoid you, Gwen. I just don’t want to cause a big scene and distract everyone,” Kane explained.
“At least say hello to old Ernie. He’s always so happy to see you,” Gwen said coyly.
“Considering Ernie runs the biggest bar right in the middle of the club, I can only assume that you want me to cause a big scene,” Kane said, eyes narrowed.
Gwen said no more, but there was an obvious twinkle in her eyes. She fluttered her fingers in a wave as she swiveled around and walked towards the family-friendly side of the club. Gwen was Bill’s star attraction, a professional singer who had sold out many shows before the Downfall. Bill had coaxed her to leave her last gig and become the star and director of the Broadway-esque shows he still put on in the opera house on select nights. Her bass-laden numbers paired well with her haunting voice, reminding Kane of the blue alien opera singer in that old sci-fi movie.
Accessing the hidden entrance to Bill’s circular observatory that looked out over the entire club, he ascended the stairs. Bill was combing through some papers on his desk as Kane entered the room, and he stood there watching with a big smile on his face while he waited for Bill to notice. It did not take long. Bill sprang to his feet, and with surprising agility for a man his size, he rushed Kane and scooped him up like a child, engulfing him in a hug. Their family had always been on the more affectionate and gregarious side, but Kane would not have changed it for the world. As Bill set him back down on his feet, Kane had to back up a few steps to make eye contact—and he was still looking almost straight up.
“How are you, you huge son of a bitch?” Kane asked jovially.
“Better than I deserve, you tiny little human!” boomed Bill. They laughed at each other, and Bill gestured to the seat across from his desk.
As they settled in, Bill asked, “How are Miranda and Harry?”
“Great,” Kane said, with only the slightest hesitation.
Bill caught it anyways. “What’s wrong?”
With a sigh, Kane looked to the side.
“Kane?”
Kane looked up with a pained expression. “Miranda is getting worse. She freaked out a few weeks back and accidentally let a fly into the house.”
Bill rumbled low in his chest and shifted in his seat. “Is my nephew all right?”
“Yes. A few more changes, but he is adapting faster and faster each time,” Kane responded, then changed the subject. “Enough of that stuff. How’s the club and the girls?”
Bill looked at Kane carefully for a few moments, deciding if he was going to overlook the sudden shift. “Good. Got a few more talented girls, mostly business is booming. I might even be able to go fully legitimate and get away from all the stripper business with how well Gwen’s shows are doing. We’re starting to sell out more and more often.”
“That’s great news!” Kane said earnestly. “What about the girls?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Bill rolled his eyes and did not answer.
“Come on, little brother. I live vicariously through you,” Kane pleaded.
“I have not been your ‘little’ brother in a long time,” Bill said, trying not to crack a smile. “We have decided to keep it as open as possible.”
Kane waited for him to continue, but Bill just sat there stoically.
“And?” he said exasperatedly. “You were juggling quite a few of them last I remember, and they were starting to get agitated.”
Bill grinned, and with a shake of his bull head, he finally deigned to answer the question. “We have decided to keep the door open for all parties involved, currently and in the future.”
“You sly dog!” Kane said exuberantly. “It’s the end of the world, and you’re collecting a freaking harem!”
“It’s not a ‘harem,’ Kane,” Bill corrected quickly. “It’s just an open relationship; they can come and go as they please.”
“I bet they do a lot more of the former than the latter,” Kane said with a devilish grin.
Bill blushed brightly under the thin layer of fuzz covering his muzzle but said no more.
They talked for a little over an hour. Kane watched the club below slowly fill up with patrons. He knew he was taking up valuable time, but Bill did not seem to mind. He was letting the conversation dry up so Bill could get back to work before he remembered what he had come here to ask.
“Oh! Before I forget, Miranda wants me to set up a lunch or dinner with you and Amy. I am going to go talk to her sometime soon and nail down a time in her busy schedule.”
“Sounds great. I can’t wait,” replied Bill.
Before he could say any more, the door behind Kane burst open, and one of the bouncers rushed in. “Bill, there’s a problem in the city. Reports are coming in that there was a breach at one of the gates, and a group of mutants has attacked the scavengers’ compound.”
“Be careful, Kane,” Bill called after Kane as he jumped to his feet and rushed out the door, but he was already halfway down the stairs.