Die to Live Again by David Crane

Author:David Crane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction, apocalyptic, postapocalyptic, nuclear war, wwiii, david crane, die to live again
Publisher: Foremost Press

CHAPTER 30

Mike arranged for me to have a room inside one of the underground chambers. The locals were friendly and treated me with dignity. Every Panther commanded it, not by just their size, strength, and power, but by their very existence. It seemed that most of the humans here had gotten used to our kind by now. Not that humans and Panthers were close. They simply learned to coexist for their mutual benefit, an alliance that turned into a strong and enduring friendship.

My living quarters in which I was to spend the night were similar to those I had at Crystal Temple. But, because of my current size, they were much larger. Unlike the privacy curtains, my chamber had a wooden door that could be bolted from the inside. Mike wished me good night and told me to get plenty of rest. Tomorrow I would meet the leaders of the human community. Then later, visit the Panther’s own sanctuary inside the copper mine.

My possessions and weapons I surrendered to the sanctuary quartermaster. Only peace officers were allowed to carry firearms. I didn’t mind. I could defend myself against any aggressor. Not that I had to worry. Mike told me a story on our way to the sanctuary about one of the racist idiots calling one of the Panthers a mutant freak. The male Panther had overreacted. He simply wanted to punch the man out, but instead broke his neck with one blow. Compared to a Panther, a human was a fragile piece of porcelain. One wrong move, and it would shatter.

I sat on the mattress, which was covered by a clean, gray army-issue wool blanket, and patted my pillow. The mattress was a good idea. After transforming into a Panther, I probably weighed close to three hundred pounds. Any normal bed would be damaged by my weight. Placing Jack’s pocket watch on the bed, I examined my new Panther body in detail. I felt little fatigue after traveling so many miles with Mike across the wasteland. The muscles under my organic armor plates flexed and relaxed. I struck one of my chest armor plates with my fist. I heard a dull thud. The bulletproof Kevlar SWAT armor made the same sound when struck by a blunt object. Mike told me that Panther’s armor was impervious to knives and pistol bullets. I believed him, but was not yet eager to test that theory.

I thought about my mom and dad, my relatives, and the friends I had lost in the war. If only they could see me now. What would they say? I picked up Jack’s heavy, silver pocket watch and held it in my hands. The door to my room was still open. I liked the feel of the warm breeze passing through the underground gallery. My superior senses detected an odor of food cooking from one of the kitchens. Someone was making vegetable soup. My mouth instinctively watered at the suggestion of a good meal, but I wasn’t hungry. I closed my eyes, immersing myself in my memories.

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