Kierra

His voice is tiny, sounding abused and harsh. Stepping forward and crouching next to Asher, I shake my head. A lock on the cage door looks rather new. I grab it and yank down. It breaks easily under my new strength, the front of the cage bending slightly from the force.

The boy crawls to the back of his small cage, eyes wide. Trying to put on a brave face even with all he's been through. If he keeps that strength of will in him, that core of bravery, he will survive the hell of his young life in the years to come.

"I swear to you that I will not hurt you, and the men that did cannot touch you ever again."

I speak in a low, soft voice. Asher steps back as I open the door, it swings open on rusty hinges. The child moves forward a little bit, then shoots out of it and into my arms.

Sobs wrack his little body, he's so small and thin. Old and new bruising cover parts of him that I can see, some hidden under dirt and smudges of blood. I wrap my arms around him, careful not to squeeze at all. His scent ruffles my nose as his hair brushes against it. He smells, but I try not to let it bother me. The inside of the cage smells much like the outer room.

He pulls away snuffling, then looks up into my eyes. I look back at him, his blue eyes are luminous with unshed tears, holding a combination of fear and hope. Asher bumps his nose against the boys arm, who looks over and smiles.

Letting go of me completely, he goes to the wolf and falls to his knees, wrapping thin arms around the animal. Inwardly, I wince at the sound of small bones hitting concrete.

"Th...thank you."

His vocals are almost lost in the depths of the wolf's fur. I smile softly at him as he stands upright. Even crouched as I am, he's below eye level with me, but he stands straight, trying to look brave. I look him in the eyes as I explain to him what we're about to do.

"We need to finish a few things before we can leave here, but as soon as we do, we'll get you home. But right now we have to go upstairs first. I'm going to pick you up, I want you to keep your eyes closed till we get there, okay?"

He nods. Asher is quiet as I carefully pick the boy up. He lays in my arms with his eyes tightly shut. One arm behind his back, the other under his blackened knees, I hold his tiny, cold frame close to me.

I move quickly to the stairs, Asher ahead of me, where we go up without mishap. I'm relieved, no need to traumatize the kid further. He had to have heard the men's screams as well as mine when I shifted, I can only imagine what he thought was happening. It's a wonder he didn't think I was going to eat him at first.

I reach the top of the stairs and about to shut the door when he opens his eyes. He looks down at Fred's body, which lays close to the stairs. I slam the door with my foot, he looks up at me as I'm about to scold him, but his words stop me.

"I'm glad he's dead. After my mom died, he took me. Him and his friend put me in that cage. Only giving me a little food or water after I 'worked' for it."

I shut my mouth. Brave words look me straight in the eye as he reveals some of his degradation. A small shiver runs through his body that I ignore. Maybe him seeing Fred dead actually helps him, helps him see that he can't hurt him anymore.

I look to Asher, who just looks at me. He sends me a mental equivalent of a shrug. Some help he is. Walking over to the table I set the boy down in one of the chairs.

"Asher, where are those coolers?"

He leads me out into the garage. I don't even look around, just grab the two large blue coolers and go back into the kitchen. The kid's still at the table as I come in and set them next to the metal frame.

Opening them to find that Asher's right, they are full of melting ice and all sorts of liquor. From high content Scotch to Tequila. I grab a few bottles and head for the bedroom with the pictures. As I walk out, I ask Asher to stay with the boy. My mind races as I head to the room.

What am I to do with a child? He said his mom's dead. Where do I take him? I can drop him off at the hospital, or someone's house, right?

I pour the liquor over the ruined bed and dresser, over the pictures. I douse everything, even the few rugs covering the floor. The bottles are pretty big, three get used for this room alone. Going back to get a few more for the other bedroom, it only takes two to cover all the boxes. I use the last bottle with me to make a trail from both rooms to the living room, then use the last bit of it on the couch.

Going back to the kitchen, I grab a cooler and go to the basement, covering the whole room that I'd woken in with Tequila. It stinks so much that it burns my nose. My clothes in the bathroom are all but rags so they're taken to the bottom of the stairs.

I then douse the bodies with a real dark colored whiskey while dead eyes stare at me, watching and following me. The cooler is empty after I drench everything, even the cages. The water gets shut off, no need to have it running.

When done, I stretch out my clothes along the wooden stairs, leading up to the door. Making my out, I get a medium-sized bottle from the other cooler and soak my ruined clothing, thus making a flammable trail all the way down so everything will burn. Those dead fish-like eyes are accusing as they stare out, but I could care less.

Whole time I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do, but nothing I come up with satisfies me. Leaving the boy somewhere else chances that he'll tell someone about me. Granted he doesn't know who I am, but still. I'm so confused, I don't know what to do.

I leave the basement door open a crack so he won't look down again, don't want to shut it all the way either. Asher looks to me as I face him and the boy. The little one petting him and smiling a little absently. Calling him 'the boy' is getting annoying, even if it is just in my head.

"What's your name?"

He looks at me as if he is trying to remember.

"He always called me Worm or Dickmeat. My mom called me Bastion."

I frowned as he said the first two names, getting angry that anyone could call a child 'dickmeat'.

"Bastion huh? That's a really cool name, I'm Kierra."

I look at Asher, who is looking at me.

"You can talk to me without him hearing you, just speak to me using your mind. Direct your thoughts to me, and I'll hear you."

I'm a bit skeptical but try anyway.

"Do you know where we are and how we can get back to my place?"

"Yes."

I nod a bit, my left ear tilting slightly to the side.

"I need him to go outside so I can finish up in here, can you stay with him and keep hidden?"

"It was shortly after midnight when I got here, no one should see us. We're in Rockford so we'll take the Sinnissippi path back to Loves Park."

Somehow, it doesn't surprise me that I'm in Rockford.

"Great."

"Bastion? Can you go outside with my friend Asher here? I need you both to hide while I finish a couple things, okay?"

He looks at me with eyes way older than he is as he nods. He and the wolf head out through the garage so no one will see them from the front. After they leave, I grab some cook-out matches that I had found in one of the drawers earlier.

Opening another bottle from the cooler, I pour it over the table and chairs, the counter and cabinets, even the doorways. Everything that will flame up gets poured on. Grabbing the last bottle, an unmarked one with a clear liquid that burns my eyes and nose when it's opened, I lead a trail from the living room into the kitchen.

Opening the basement door all the way, those cloudy eyes still stare into the cosmos. Continuing the liquor trail through the kitchen to the outside doorway where there's a medium-sized backyard, I toss the empty bottle into the garage and get out a long-stemmed match. I look around for Asher and Bastion.

They're at the far side of the yard, somewhat hidden among some trees. After two failed attempts, low curses, and long-fingered claw fumbles, one finally strikes true and flares up, barely missing catching my own furred hand on fire. I toss it onto the booze trail and watch it catch and race into the house.

Backing up a few steps, flames erupt inside the building. Screaming faces rise with the hungry flames.

Those eyes... Will I ever be rid of them? How could I have lost three days?

I wait till I'm sure everything has caught on fire before I run to the two waiting for me. I grab up Bastion in my arms and follow after the midnight colored wolf.

The smoke follows me. I hope there's no fire station nearby, for I need that house burnt to the ground. Not just for my peace of mind, but the safety it means for me, Faline, and Bastion.

I look back only once, flames have consumed the inside. Good. Bastion lay in my arms quietly as we run past a few houses, they're all dark and silent with sleep. Windows seem to look at us with staring, empty eyes. Getting slightly creeped out, I keep my eyes ahead.

I vaguely recognize the area though, and once we hit Union St. I recognize why, we aren't that far from Kishwaukee Elementary School, where I went when I was little. It brings back too many memories, so I shove them to the back of my mind.

We take a right onto 3rd Street, running north to Division Street. We run through yards, keeping to the heavy shadows as much as possible. A few houses still have their lights on, we avoid them as much as we can.

Dogs bark from backyards and inside homes, one yard we head through holds a massive mastiff mix on a chain. He barks at our scent, but once I get closer, he cowers against the tree that holds his chain, his ears down and tail tucked between his legs. I spare him a glance as I go by.

My nose picks up the scents of the night, stronger than anything I've smelled before. I have to fight to keep my mind on our task so I don't wander after any. The draw strong and instinctual.

The three of us keep going, heading northeast to Ford Street. Crossing the road proves tricky. A few random cars with blaring music cruise by us, making it so we have to duck down low to avoid being seen. After they go by, we head to the railroad tracks.

Asher has the lead with me on his heels carrying Bastion, following the Union Pacific railroad under the Whitman Street Bridge where we stop under it for a brief rest. My arms feel a bit weird from the way I've been holding the boy. Not tired in the least, just unused to that motion. I set him down, careful to put him on the incline where there's smoother cement that has no shattered glass.

Graffiti covers the walls, pillars, and parts of the ground. Gangs marking their territory and random kids just making their mark. Hoping to get their name and skill noticed. Some of it is really good, while others just look downright disturbing.

My eyes squint as part of the art holds four-legged figures leading into upright two-legged beings.

I smell urine, booze, old food, trash, and the Rock River that isn't far away overlaying everything. Other smells clamor at me, but I block them out as I try to figure out the best way home. We have already traveled miles and still have quite a few to go. I marvel at the way I can move so fluidly, my legs like loaded springs pushing me to further strides then I thought possible, having to keep a rein on my speed so I don't bypass my guide.

Ears swivel as I hear cars above, as well as a few that drive only a few short yards from us. A muffled noise alerts me to an intruder's presence, whipping around to see Bastion looking at an older man. Hard to tell his age exactly, what with the dirty bum appearance, not to mention the weathers of a hard life.

An old torn up coat is over his shoulders, hiding his upper body from view, height might be on the tall side of five feet, but he looks to be hunched a bit. Metal gleams in his hand as he faces Bastion. The boy looks scared, but I see the steel in his eyes as he stands straight.