I would have liked to shower this morning before we went off the grid completely. Once we left the outskirts of London, who knows how long it might take for us to reach the next city.

But, there was no running water in any of the nearby houses we checked and we only had a limited supply of bottled water. I wasn't about to waste our precious drinking water washing my hair. It wasn't going to be the end of the world if I stank a bit. That had already happened anyway.

The only river near here was the Thames that ran through London. I've heard enough horror stories about the state of that river to know that If I tried to clean myself in it, I would come out far dirtier than when I went in.

Just then, a memory came to me of when I was young. I must have been four years old when I was sent into the forest behind our house for the first time.

My family are from Alaska, and the winters there are cold. It's not a cold that is easy to describe with words. It's something you would have to experience for yourself. It's the kind of cold that leaves you gasping breath when you first encounter it.

And, when I was 4 years old, my father took me for a drive and left me in the forest. I remember very little about how I got home. My brain seems to have cut off the 2 days I spent in that forest from my memory. A combination of my young age and trauma.

However, 2 things stand out to me from my first time in the forest. One of them is the hollow metallic ring the door of my father's car made as it slammed closed. I will never forget hearing the car's engine gradually grow fainter as he drove away, leaving me in the snow, with nothing.

The other thing I remember is my first experience washing outdoors. After the first day in the forest, I was covered in bloody scrapes, bruises and caked in mud from head to toe.

Desperate to clean myself and without knowing any better, I jumped into a glacial river. The water was crystal clear. So clear that I could see the giant catfish swimming at the riverbed and the little flecks of gold that glittered in the river like starlight.

It wasn't until I broke through the surface of the river that I realised I might die. It was so cold... so bone-chillingly cold that I thought my blood might freeze solid. My body felt like it had been dipped in flame. It was so cold that it burned.

And yet, I would rather swim in that river once again than the Thames. You could cure being cold by warming up. But, you fall into the Thames you have to go get a tetanus shot and your stomach pumped. Having to choose between frostbite and disease is a tough one.

...

When I walked into the kitchen that morning, it was surprisingly lively. Kyle and August were arm wrestling and Kashyap was using the gas cooker to make his now-famous beans on toast.

We ate a hearty meal and I revealed that getting the car would be more difficult than it first appeared.

"A giant cat huh..." Kashyap said thoughtfully.

"Exactly, and it was almost the same size as the pickup truck," I said, emphasising just how big it really was.

"And your sure this isn't a lion or tiger that has escaped from the zoo in all the chaos?" Kashyap asked, he seemed to be searching for a rational explanation for all this.

"No, it looked exactly like a house cat. I don't think I've ever seen a tabby lion. Now that I think about it, its fur was almost exactly the same as the one in the picture above the bed in... that room," I said, gesturing vaguely towards the hallway. I didn't want to say the room with the corpse in it.

"I think this house had a cat actually," Kyle chimed in, "This morning I was looking for batteries and I found cat food beneath the sink."

"I wonder where that cat is now?" I asked thoughtfully,

"I wonder..." Kashyap echoed, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Our thoughtfulness was brought to an abrupt halt by a crash. August had stabbed a fork into the table. "Why are you all acting like babies about this? All we have to do is kill it," He said while gesturing pointedly with his knife.

"Kill Kill Kill, that's all you ever think about. How many times did Robert have to save you yesterday when you tried to take on more than you could chew?" Kyle asked, pointing at me.

"I could have handled 3 rats at once if he had let me. He just wanted to steal experience," August mumbled defensively.

'No, he couldn't' I said to myself.

My mind was brought back to yesterday when we were fleeing the city. August had tried to take on too many rats at once and I was forced to step in and save him. Since that incident, I have always been careful to keep a watchful eye on him when any monsters are nearby.

We spent the next few minutes coming up with a vague plan on how to deal with the cat. There's no such thing as too well prepared I always say.

...

Kyle's breathing was tense and hurried as he crept up the vacant street towards the cat. His footsteps were soft and shaky. Beneath the harsh red light of the dawn sun, he stole up the street, nothing more than a faint shadow in the gloom.

'Why did I have to be bait?' He moaned to himself. He didn't dare say that out loud in case he woke that cat up.

We had quickly realised that if we fought near the truck, it might get damaged and then the whole ordeal would be a waste of time, so Kyle was tasked with luring the cat away.

20 meters, 15 meters, 10 meters, each shaking step took him closer to the sleeping beast. By now, he could feel its deep breaths and smell blood.

It wasn't until he was within 5 meters of the cat that it opened one eye lazily. The eye was so large and so close that Kyle could even make out the golden ring that surrounded the narrowed vertical pupil as gazed disinterestedly at him.

His breath caught in his throat and time stood still. Heavy overbearing pressure was coming from that eye. Only one thought crossed his mind in that frozen instance, 'I am prey,' He was sure of it. The cat was looking at him like it might have looked at a rabbit in the past.

A low throaty growl came from the cat's throat. It was so deep that it made the ground rumble slightly.

Slowly, it got up. Uncurling from its sleeping position and revealing just how massive it truly was. 4 sets of wickedly sharp claws gleamed in the morning sun like butcher's knives. Its teeth were strange, almost prehistoric-looking, like a sabertooth tiger. They hung out over its bottom lip and Kyle had to force himself not to think about how much it might hurt if he was bitten by them.

Suddenly, Kyle burst into a flurry of motion. He turned around, slipped, regained his footing and pelted down the street with all he was worth.

Behind him, the cat padded softly on its big paws, making little to no sound as it prowled. It wasn't in hurry to catch him. It had all day, and he couldn't escape.

Kyle ran back the way he had come, turning down the winding maze of streets. All the while, he was careful not to look back. He might lose his nerve if did. It would be a pathetic way to die if he pissed himself from fear.

He ran down the street they arranged the ambush in, the cat close on his tail. Occasionally it would swat at him, hitting him in the back and knocking him to the ground. It didn't hit him with its claws, so he wasn't badly injured, just terrified.

This was exactly how cats played with their food. Oftentimes, when a cat kills a mouse, the mouse doesn't die from injuries, but from a heart attack. They die from terror and exhaustion.

Finally, Kyle saw the building he had been aiming for, and the sight of it brought tears to his eye. He burst through the garden gate and into the back garden of the house.

The garden was walled on all four sides by tall buildings. The grass was overgrown, almost a meter tall, just like the front garden of the house they had stayed at previously. It was almost like he had stepped into a prehistoric jungle.

Kyle stumbled into this garden and dived into the tall grass, hiding desperately in the thick undergrowth. Praying that he wouldn't be found.

The cat wasn't far behind, it padded softly into the garden on its massive paws. When it saw the enclosed space and narrow walls, its golden pupils narrowed suspiciously and it growled throatily.

Right when it looked like it might leave, a rustling noise came from the grass and Kyle stood up. Tears were streaming down his face and a metal baseball bat was clutched in his shaking hands. He tried to shout and catch the attention of the cat, but the sound caught in his throat.

Even though he didn't manage to shout, it was enough. The second Kyle stood up, The cat's golden eyes focused on him, and it pounced towards him. Turning to a blur of tabby fur, hooked claws and vicious teeth.

And, when it pounced, so did the other three members of our group who had been waiting patiently for the chance to strike.