Page 24 of Outfoxed

She ran, and I followed her most excellent example.

Back tracking was dangerous at best, but unless I found shelter, I wouldn’t have to worry about the bounty on my head. I’d be dead. A little too late to be of any use to most, Inner Tulsa’s warning sirens blared.

I bolted for the nearest entry into Asylum’s tunnels several blocks away. While I couldn’t afford anyone seeing me shift from fox to woman, I couldn’t afford to be caught out in the streets during a bad blow. I transformed, and when I coughed, not even the rain could mask the heat of my blood in my mouth. Shifting again to access my cellar might be enough to kill me, but I had no choice.

Either I sheltered, or I died.

I hauled the manhole cover away, slid into the hole, and spared the moment to restore the plate to its rightful place. Then I climbed into the dimly illuminated tunnel and ran like I meant it, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

Five

I’d found bodies in the tallest branches of stubborn trees before.

Sunday, May 3, 2043.

Tulsa, Oklahoma.

The Alley.

When Mother Nature finally showed up for her date with Tulsa, someone must have pissed her off something fierce, as she took her temper out on the city. The maintenance tunnel shook, and dust and bits of concrete rained down on my head. Shifting again could kill me, but I feared what the storm might do if it tore out one of the manhole covers and went fishing for stragglers in the tunnel.

I’d found bodies in the tallest branches of stubborn trees before.

I had no doubt one of Mother Nature’s twisters could pluck a woman from the safety of the ground. She did what she wanted when she wanted, and only a fool tested her when she was in a bad mood.

Shifting hurt, bloody was not a good look for me, and I regretted forcing the transformation, but it beat other ways to die. When I went out, I wanted some say in the matter. Staggering from exhaustion, I returned to the hive of air ducts, climbed to mine, and crawled inside. I considered descending only far enough to avoid casual detection but changed my mind after some consideration.

I’d come too far to throw my efforts away.

The drop to my stack of boxes hurt, and I panted from exertion, waging a war with myself. If I shifted, I could retrieve a bottle or two of water and do some more exploration of my new home. While thirst wouldn’t kill me immediately, it would ruin my day tomorrow as I struggled with dehydration on top of evading bounty hunters and making a living. As long as I didn’t die outright, I could recover. If a bad enough blow swept through where I lived, Brent and Batbayar would excuse if I were late. Being late beat being dead—and corpses couldn’t make up lost time later.

I’d have to put in some serious thought if being caught beat being dead; it could go either way.

The transformation went better than I expected, although I shook head to toe and would need to figure out how to get bloodstains out of my clothes without ready access to hydrogen peroxide. I guzzled three bottles of water, struggling to catch my breath between gulps.

Despite my cellar’s depth, the storm’s rage reached me. The incessant rumble disconcerted me and ensured I wouldn’t be sleeping until it passed. I explored while waiting for the weather to calm. I began with the boxes and crates closest to the entrance, discovering unisex clothes, blankets, and even a few pillows. I made a nest for myself for when I could finally try to sleep. Canned foods, most of which could be eaten without being reheated, filled several crates. According to their expiration dates, they’d still be good for another two years.

I could only assume someone had stocked it within the past few months from one of the prized food shipments courtesy of a safer quadrant.

For the first time since coming to the Alley, I wouldn’t worry about my next meal. As long as I kept one step ahead of the bounty hunters, it would be months before I worried about going hungry. The idea of going into hiding rankled, but I could if needed.

I had options.

It took several hours for the storm to quiet, and I listened to the faint hiss of air in the ducts until I drifted to sleep.

Morning came earlier than I liked, and with only three hours of rest under my belt, I changed into clean clothes, tossed my bloodied outfit into a corner to deal with later, and made my way through the storm doors leading to my new residence.

Weight on the trap door implied things hadn’t gone well above ground, but I shouldered it open enough to peek out. Sunshine streamed in through new holes in the walls, although the building still stood. It took a few minutes and a lot of shoving, but I forced the trap door open, grunting at the evidence the storm had blown in more junk than any one person could clean on their own. How the house still stood remained a mystery—and a testament to its builders. I had no idea if I could repair the structure or if I’d be wasting my effort. Until I figured it out one way or another, I’d tiptoe through the home, disturb nothing, and keep an eye on the roof and hope it didn’t cave in on me.

Before the storm, my new home had stood in a neighborhood. A sea of debris and bodies stretched before me, extending several blocks in every direction. A few holdouts rose in defiance of Mother Nature. I wondered if Mother Nature had destroyed so many lives with a display of strength in numbers, or if she’d decided she was a goddess over all she saw, dragging her finger over the outskirts of the city and eliminating everything in her way with a single twister.

My respect for my stubborn house and its builders grew, and I wondered if Mother Nature would tolerate its defiance.

Not for long, I expected.

Only three days into the storm season, and I questioned if Tulsa would survive. Each year, the storms worsened, encroaching closer to the higher ground making up Tulsa’s strained heart. In time, everyone would live in shelters—or in Asylum. Those in Asylum would stand the highest chances of survival.

Over the winter and spring, I’d heard whispers they planned on creating an underground train network, one that would connect the Alley to the East, which in turn would connect to the South. The West could be reached through the South, although many feared the narrow boundary where the Alley and the South fought for dominance and tornados spawned in defiance of the magical borders dividing the United States.