Beyond the Outback - On the Road

December 2067. During an Australian tour, neko top model Myadeline Heargreaves stumbles upon a familar duo of talking velociraptors after her car stops working. An impromptu ride turns into a trip to a place dear to her saviors, one connected with the incident that caused Wally to desert and run away.

Of course, it was hot. Of course. Arid, even, dryness sucking away the atmospheric moisture, leaving only cracked dirt and sand. The few bushes that surrounded her seemed accustomed to the harsh baton of their sun mistress, but she wasn’t. Like an apartment cat, the woman standing in her tank top and jeans near a dusty SUV, felt simply out of place among that desolation. A single gravel track going to nowhere, coming from nowhere, while heatwave distorted the horizon, the flat hills in the distance. She gulped down yet another sip of water, trying to gauge how long her reserves could last. Maybe half a day longer, maybe less. Not the best situation, but one she found herself into. A glance at her phone. Of course, no signal. Not even in the year of the lord two-thousand-sixty-seven mobile phone companies found it profitable to set an antenna in the middle of essentially nothing. She let out a long sigh. At least, she still had some weed with her, if worse came to worse, and a whole pack of cigarettes. Smoking was harmful to her voice and her skin, she was painfully aware of it, but nothing else seemed to calm her down, when she went in heat. She had tried everything – pills, hypnosis, keeping her feet soaked in cold water, sleeping upside down, not sleeping at all – and yet, short of a good old-fashioned pounding, nothing seemed to satiate her cravings. Nothing except her favorite Pale Horse cigs, that is. She didn’t know why, but nicotine had a strangely soothing effect on her body and psyche. Good thing she didn’t live in the US or toured there during her mating season, or she would have been found having a go at the red light district in no time. Sure, the Americans had their reasons to ban cigs, something something a president dying of lung cancer in service yadda yadda, but having to leave her lifeline back in Ireland made her feel extremely uneasy. Sometimes, she wondered how other nekos dealt with it, but her contacts with her kind were scarce or very, very impersonal. She brushed her messy hazel hair, while looking again at the unending streak of unsealed road unrolling before her eyes. Worst place ever to have battery issues. Worst place ever to be alone. The temperature was rising too, something that made her wish she were born as one of those naked sphinx cats. Her ears and tails were suffering under the harsh gaze of the sun, a sun that had no right to be that warm in the middle of December. Well, that would have been the standard in her homeland, but Australia, of course, liked to do things the other way around. At least, the driving side was the same, though that was akin to cold comfort more than anything.

A strand of unruly hair fell over her sunglasses, prompting her to blow it off with an unconvinced sigh. Of all the places her car could break down, of all the moments… it had to be right there, didn’t it? Yes, there – around one hundred fifty kilometers away from any known settlement, in a vast stretch of scorched emptiness. She took yet another sip from her bottle, savoring the soupy water as if it were Dom Perignon. Despite a little bit of annoyance and rage, her situation didn’t feel like the end of the world. She had a tent tucked inside her rent car, plus some extra food in the trunk. Worst case scenario, she could have lasted almost half a day longer, a time long enough for at least one driver to show up and – hopefully – give her a lift. Something she kept on repeating herself for the past hour and half like a mantra, to give herself enough strength and endure her hurdle. It was a game of patience, nothing she could do about it, except wait. If she waited long enough, some rando with a 4WD would have definitely showed up. Or a local police patrol, still fighting the emu war. Or maybe even an intern from her entourage, sent by her worried sponsors who already paid for her photoshoot. Or a starved ‘mozzie’ – as the locals called those bloody buggers – attracted by her scent. Yep. Endless possibilities for that story to end, not all happy. Well, such was life, even though being eaten by a phage wasn’t her ideal way of going out with style.

She chuckled, as if to exorcise that thought. ‘Mozzies’. Mosquitos. Such a funny name for an invasive species that feasted on humans and turned both Ireland and Australia into hellholes. In the case of Australia, that wasn’t probably that much of a fall from grace, more like a new normal: it went from ‘the country that hosted the most lethal animals on the planet’ to ‘the country that hosted the most lethal animals on the planet and also hematophages’. Not an amazing addition to an already vibrant bestiary, but a fitting one. If any place in the world was right for hematos to appear out of the blue, that was the outback, no questions asked. Yet, for some godforsaken reasons, they decided to pop up in Ireland instead. Ireland. A place that had nothing to do with dangerous beasts, if the Brits were excluded. A place so boring that the acid trip of one Dubliner writing sentences without punctuation was considered a literary masterpiece. A place that now was scarred by desertification, long anti-monster walls made of concrete, dome cities and blood flowers. Still, at least according to one scientist, phages were not that bad. Sure, their cubs killed all plant life, their adults chewed adult humans like candies and they bred faster than they could be gunned down, but they were so good in bed. She felt her anger building up at that remark, the unquenched desire to punch that obnoxious Paddy O’Rilley really, really hard in the face, after headbutting her twice or three times, for a good measure, and maybe – maybe – kicking her in the groin too, repeatedly, once for every time she went on stream to defend those monsters. Before she could physically attempt to punch her own car, pretending it was that obnoxious phagefucker, her ears twitched.

A noise.

A very, distinctly artificial noise.

Coming from her right.

She turned towards the horizon, adjusted her shades.

There it was, far in the distance. A shadow, a shape cloaked by sand, distorted by the heatwave. A shape that became clearer the more time passed. Her heart skipped a beat.

A car.

That was unmistakably a car.

Driving in her direction.

She wagged her tail, ran to the middle of the road, started waving her hands like mad, shouting too.

“Hey! Heeeeeeey! You there! Please, stop! Stop! Stooooop!”

A screeching noise, the vehicle slowed down, the wheels grinding dirt and gravel, splashing it everywhere. It was a rather large pickup truck with one headlight broken and its once blue body marred by several scratches and bumps. A huge koala sticker decorated its hood, together with a crude drawing of a phage, accompanied by several vertical bars and a horizontal one every five. She beamed with a smile, reached for her savior, almost jumping at the door handle.

“My car broke down, I need a lift to…”

Her relief died with those first few words, replaced by utter confusion first. Then with fear.

“MYAAAAAAAAA!”

She fell on her back, landed on the dirt. Her teeth clattering, her ears lowered, her tail puffed up, her eyes wide open. In front of her, in all its anachronistic glory, sat a velociraptor. Yellow eyes without mercy. Green scales wrapping its slender body. Hundreds of fangs she first saw in picture books when she was a kitten. That giant claw on its finger – the same that the paleontologist unearthed in that century-old-movie, the one about the dinosaur park. An apex predator, an unstoppable killing machine, waiting only to feast on her entrails while ripping her stomach open. She lost her breath at the sight of that monster, a monster that not even a shoiga could compare to. Shoigas had something akin to humanity left in their gazes. Not it, not that creature… that was currently driving a car on a gravel road in the middle of the outback.

“What’s wrong, mate? Why you screamed?”

And speaking with a marked Australian accent. She blinked at that sight. Twice. Said dinosaur was also wearing a pink tank top, with a koala decor too, and tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. Several colorful bracelets peeked out of the window, adorning its wrists.

“That’s ‘cause yer face’s ugly!”

A second voice, coming from the back of the truck, with – if possible – an even more marked inflection. The woman sat on the ground, her tail wrapped around her waist, her ears twitching. The raptor turned towards the unseen passenger, growled, shook its head.

“Oh, shut up, grommet! Ya ain’t one to talk, yes? Your scars would make every lass in a one kilometer radius die of heart attack!”

“Scars are popular with ladies, whaddayasay, mate?”

The woman stared at those eyes, those eyes that – if anything – felt more annoyed than surprised. She gulped down a lump of saliva, while slowly rising up. That wasn’t a feral beast. That was a creature provided with intellect.

And a driving license.

Yes. That was an overreaction, an extreme overreaction. On a planet where nekos existed, where mutant sharks ran a mafia cartel in the US, where reptilian aliens walked among humans, of course there had to be a place for dinosaurs too. Of course. She cleared her throat, trying to recover from her blunder.

“I’m… I’m sorry! I just… huh, didn’t expect to see a… a…”

The green raptor grinned, slapped the side of the door.

“Oh, yeah! I get it, I get it! I’d scream too if I saw this baby! You know, lass, this bad boy of a pick-up is a one-of-a-kind marvel. Ain’t it, Gruda?”

“Mate, you be the only idiot who still hasn’t sold it. You were scammed, ‘kay?”

“It runs over mozzies like a mower, what’s more to ask?”

“I dunno, what about a working handbrake, lights that don’t burn out every other week and a reverse, maybe?”

“Nah, reverse’s for kiddos. We ain’t need that in this house.”

“Your money, mate. But don’t complain, next time you end up swamped.”

The neko stared dumbfounded at the scene unrolling before her eyes. A velociraptor. Driving a run-down pick-up truck on a gravel road. Talking with the most stereotypical Australian accent. To what she assumed to be another velociraptor. And not even realizing that that was the reason she threw herself to the ground screaming. What kind of country was actually Australia, if stuff like that was considered common place? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

The green raptor looked back at her, resting his cheek on his fist, while still playing with the steering wheel.

“Anyway, lass, I see your car’s gone dodo. Fancy tellin’ me where ya need to go? We can give you a lift, if it’s on the road. We gotta lotsa room for your stuff too.”

“T… the closest place with a phone that works or an internet connection.”

“Then, Marrowstone it is! Fine with me, mate! We were goin’ there anyway! Come on, come on, jump in! Gruda’s lyin’ on the back seats, you can ride in the front row, yes?”

The neko nodded, renewed hope in her irises, though offset by a weird feeling. Getting into the car of a stranger wasn’t something she had many qualms about, especially not in a situation where not getting into it might mean that, but riding with one (or even two) velociraptors? What if they were going to eat her? She let out a quiet sigh. That weirdo was civilized enough that the Australian government gave him a driving license, most likely. That meant that either he was considered a person despite not being fully human or that Australia was more dangerous than she thought. She glanced back at her rent car, stranded on the roadside with a fried battery. Taking a little risk and having a little trust in that mutant was more alluring than waiting for another hour in that unbearable sultriness. With a decisive nod, she grabbed her travel bag and ran around the pick-up, till the passenger seat. Her hand rested on the handle for a second. Then, she pulled it, caution be damned, and sat inside the vehicle. The raptor showed his teeth in something that could have been considered a sort of smile.

“By the way, name’s Mao. That wreckage dozing off back there’s my pal Gruda. Say hi to the lass, Gruda!”

A loud growl emerged from behind him.

“Shut up and rev that engine, mate. Imma trying to rest a little.”

The neko turned around, only for her eyes to meet another dinosaur, laying on the backseats. A peculiar scar went through his right eye, an eye he didn’t seem to be able to open anymore. Compared with Mao, Gruda was way wider and taller, with well developed muscles and an imposing build. He was wearing a sort of military outfit, with padded shoulders and protections all over his body, which had to be at least slightly uncomfortable. She simply waved her hand at him, before cracking a smile at the driver.

“I’m Myadeline, nice to meet you.”

“Myadeline? Yer name’s really Myadeline?”

Mao let out a weird whistling noise, shook his head vigorously.

“What parents name their cat gal Myadeline? Man, that’s rich! It’s like naming a dog Woofert or a dingo… hey, Gruda, how’s the cry of the dingo called?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Mate, you’re useless.”

“Thanks. Now, drive.”

Myadeline bit her lips, her nails almost sinking into her thighs, through the fabric of her jeans. She didn’t like her name, it was built on a stupid pun, but saying that out loud? She let that pass just because she had more pressing matters at hand – that is, avoiding getting stranded in the middle of the outback till she became food for carrion eaters. So, she swallowed her piqued retort and let it slide. Just. For that. One. Time. She grabbed the seatbelt, pulled it down. Or, at least, she tried. Whatever strength she used, the lock didn’t want to bend to her will, staring at her with as much mockery as an inanimate object could radiate.

“Oh, I forgot to tell ya, I’ve got an accident with some glue and the seatbelt’s stuck there. But don’t worry, lass, we ain’t gotta find cops this out in the wilds.”

A ghostly whisper came from behind them, in a tone reminiscent of an apparition from a dated horror movie. It was the second raptor, of course, waving his hands behind the driver’s seat in a somewhat pitiful impression of an ectoplasm.

“Maaaaaaooooo! Chaaaaaange… caaaaaaar… Maaaaaao! Liiiisten to the voiiiices!”

“Leave me alone, mate…”

Mao growled, grabbed the lever on the gearbox, pushed it, pressed his foot deep on the throttle. The engine roared, the cylinders making a show for their guest. Then, the pick-up jumped forward, full speed ahead, leaving a cloud of dust and gravel behind.

**

Despite its battered up appearance and dated look, Mao’s truck had a decent air conditioning system. Myadeline felt refreshed, after so much time spent under the sun, with just a thin layer of cream protecting her skin. Her contract punished her with hefty fines if she got too tanned, but if the choice was between losing a gig and losing her life, of course the gig could go down to hell. A sigh escaped her lips, as her ears twitched once more. The noise that car was making was infernal – a roaring, growling beast devouring gravel and spitting dark smoke for no apparent reason. That was very different from how silent every other vehicle she had ever driven felt. That pick-up sounded less like a truck and more like that gruesome puppy-grinding-machine she saw once in a horror movie. She retched a little, a shiver down her spine. That was a childhood memory she didn’t want to awake. Sneaking in the living room in the middle of the night to watch TV while her mother was asleep seemed such a good plan, at least until she landed on the wrong channel. She cried so loud that her meowing could be heard from all of her neighbors, to the point where, the morning after, a delegation of them asked her mom whether – against the house rules – she was harboring a cat and whether said cat was in heat. That mistake made her understand why all of her devices still had parental control on. She had never tried to find out exactly what movie was that, even in her adulthood. Maybe, watched with her twenty-something-old-eyes, it would have been way less scary – cheesy, even. Yet, the mere thought of looking for that film made her stomach churn. She tried to avoid focusing on the noise, glancing at the desolate wasteland outside of the window. Her vision was filled by an interminable sequence of gravel, rocks and dried out plants, with an occasional electrified fence and a phage corpse here and there. The innards of Australia. The part that was hidden to the world, after the phages escaped containment and took over that harsh environment. Or they tried to, as there had been multiple reports of hemato butts getting kicked by the local wildlife, in certain regions of the island. A video of a kangaroo throwing a phage down a hill went viral on the net not even a couple months earlier. Several memes spawned immediately after, the most shared being a picture of the kangaroo in question, complete with a soldier helmet and a “I’m doing my part!” label. Myadeline had laughed for a while, after seeing that, before falling prey to melancholy. It felt like Australia itself was reacting to the invasion, as if those large marsupials and the emus were antibodies fighting against a devastating virus. Antibodies that, as mighty as they were, could only barely contain the infection and slow down its spread, but not halt it in any significant way.

“Cat got your tongue, lass?”

Mao’s voice interrupted her train of thoughts, with a less than stellar choice of words. She let that slide once again. No reason to pick a fight with the one creature that could bring her back to civilization.

“I was admiring the scenery.”

“You sure should! This is the largest mozzie-free zone in Queensland! There’s some stragglers and mavericks, yes, but no swarms and no goddamn phage cubs eating roots for breakfast.”

Gruda’s growls emerged from the backseats, as his clawed hand pushed Mao’s headrest.

“And guess who ya have to thank for that?”

“It’s the ‘roos, mate! The ‘roos! Ya’ve seen Kangzilla, yes? He squashed that mozzie down like a champ!”

“For chrissake! Screw the ‘roos, Mao.”

Mao let out a strange sound that might have been interpreted as a chuckle, slapped Gruda’s hand away.

“I kno’, I kno’, mate. I was just joking, yes?”

He stared back at the road, nodded in the direction of Myadeline.

“See, lass… Gruda’s the cap’n of the Outback Restoration Team. He’s fightin’ these mofos on the frontlines every darn day. He’s got real good at it.”

“Mozzies can’t stand grenade launchers. It’s their weakness. Blow them up and they simply explode. Boooooooom!”

Gruda accompanied that boom with a wide gesture, mimicking a shockwave of sorts with both of his arms, while still laying down on his impromptu bed. Myadeline stared at him for a while, at that scar running through his right eye. How did the raptor lose it? Curiosity was killing her, but asking him directly felt very indelicate. It could have been an incident. Or the hematos. Or both. She bit her lip, swallowed the question, glanced back at her chaperone. Both of his claws were firmly grasping the steering wheel, a wheel that had seen better days. Scratched, reinforced with bolted metal bars and rusted plates, wrapped in black and yellow striped tape. The rest of the instrumentation felt equally battered, sporting anachronistic analog displays for speed and a lot of other parameters she didn’t understand or recognize. She gazed at the lever that Mao occasionally pulled and pushed, the one that caused a grinding noise of gears that overcame even the roar of the engine. It was reinforced too, with several claw marks on the top and the numbers one to five scribbled with a marker, plus a small letter that looked like an ‘R’. Myadeline wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it sure looked a relic from a distant past. Mao noticed her tail wagging in the corner of his eye, saw her staring at the gearbox lever as he grabbed it once more to switch up.

“Somethin’ the matter? Ya seem confused.”

“More… curious. What’s that lever for?”

“Switching gears, yes?”

“Switching… gears?”

Mao shook his head for a short while, before turning his attention to the road again.

“For Grant’s sake, you can’t be serious!”

“I told ya, Mao. She’s a house cat. That car she had was a tourist car. A rich tourist car.”

House cat. Gruda’s remark made Myadeline growl under her breath. She didn’t even care about which vehicle she rented, as long as she could get away for at least one afternoon on her own, have a little alone-time, but the guy at the counter seemed professional enough. When he proposed that 4WD SUV with a top-of-the-line drive assistant, it sounded like a good bargain – definitely not a rich tourist car. Those dinos were starting to get on her nerves. Mao noticed her displeasure, sighed.

“We meant no offense, lass… Myadeline. It’s just that ya seem so… out of yer element?”

“Very out of yer element.”, Gruda echoed.

Myadeline furrowed her eyebrows as her tail puffed up, stared outside of the window again, carefully avoiding the eyes of both of the raptors. She couldn’t hide her annoyance even if she tried.

“You don’t say.”

Mao tapped his claws on the lever, let out a low growl.

“Alright, alright. Let’s start again, shall we? No ill will, it’s just that we ain’t accustomed to seeing people so… so… uh, help me, Gruda?”

“Naive, Mao. Naive. ‘Cause only an idiot or a masochist would willingly drive an electric car on the Way. And, let me tell ya, she don’t look like either.”

Myadeline didn’t answer. Idiot. Maybe, she was truly an idiot. Maybe, leaving the troupe to have her own solo adventure in the outback, without telling anyone where she went and without taking essential stuff like a satellite phone with her was really idiotic. Yes, she should have thought twice, three times about it, but no, her dumb, weed-burned head decided for her. All because she was tired. All because she needed a break. Her ears lowered, her tail fell down too. Idiot. Not naive, plain idiot. That what she was. Now, she was paying the price of her idiocy. Yet, Mao’s tone had changed. It was less sarcastic, a bit more relaxed. It was his way to extend a peace offer.

“So, you asked ‘bout the gearbox, yes?”

“I did.”

“It’s for making the engine go more vroom or less vroom, and ya need to activate that manually. It’s a bit old fashioned…”

“Very old fashioned,” Gruda growled. Mao ignored him, though, and went on with his short explanation.

“… but it requires next to no maintenance. Almost everything’s mechanical, no complex electronics. If it breaks down…”

“Which it does, often.”

“… we can repair it with just a couple spare parts I carry in the trunk. Heck, I can fix it too in one hour tops!”

Myadeline turned back to the driver, this time with a spark of curiosity in her irises.

“But… why using such a convoluted… thingy? Can’t you buy something more modern? Maybe, with a functioning engine that doesn’t destroy your ears?”

“A functioning…”

Mao emitted a guttural noise, something that Myadeline had previously interpreted as a chuckle.

“You be from Ireland, you said, yes? You Europals have it good there, with yer self-driving traps. But tell ye what, electric cars ain’t welcome to the outback. Can ya see anyone maintaining a charger network in the middle of ‘Stralia? With mozzies chewing cables left and right? Nah, that do be hard. It might work in Sydney, maybe. But here? Fat chance.”

Myadeline squinted her eyes, twirling her tail up and down.

“I call bull. How does this car work, if it’s not electric?”

Mao patted the steering wheel, his claw gently running on the tape.

“Good ol’ gasoline, babe. Saw the canisters in the back, yes? They do be full of fuel! I always drive with fifty liters minimum of reserve – I don’t wanna get stuck ‘tween towns like ya did.”

“I told ya, Mao. She’s a house cat. Never driven any real car.”

Gasoline. Combustion engine. Words from her school days echoed back, bounced inside her head from corners long forgotten. Something about pistons compressing or sparks igniting liquid… stuff that went boom and made the engine turn a wheel. All replaced by modern electric engines even before she was born, except for military vehicles and long range trucks. Everything made a little more sense, considering that. The pick-up looked like it was older than her, maybe even older than the two raptors (not that she could gauge their ages). A relic from a past long gone, that somehow, as many other weird species, found a new home in the outback. She took a mental note to track one such car for her next photoshoot. That would have looked retro enough to be cool and original. If she ever came back for a next photoshoot. In the back of her mind, the unsettling thought that the two raptor could eat her was not completely gone yet. Those two, however, were not supposed to know it. Acting scared would have achieved nothing. If they wanted to eat her, that would have been their cue to act – no witnesses around, after all. If they didn’t want to eat her, that would have made them uneasy. A lose-lose situation.

“How far are we from Mar… Mer…”

“Marrowstone? A li’l bit longer, lass. With this pace and no mozzie or ‘roo crossing the road, we’ll be there in one hour. So, lay down and enjoy the trip, yes? Oh, wait, what about some music? Gruda, wanna listen to some?”

“I wanna sleep, mate. Can ya… just shut the chatterbox? I’ve kicked mozzie asses till six this mornin’ and I’m dead tired, huh?”

“But…”

“It’s fine. I think I need some rest too.”

Myadeline’s voice interrupted the bickering. She let herself slump on the seat, put her hands behind her nape, closed her eyes. One hour longer. To reach a place that wasn’t even marked on the map. On that anachronistic residue from half a century before. Together with two talking raptors. That would have required all of her residual patience.

**

A flat building with an even flatter roof was the first thing which greeted her, as her feet landed on the bitumen. Large, conspicuous, with a pastel pink tint. There were some figures painted on the walls, in different colors. Writings, drawings, but not those she expected from a ruined place. They were intentional, even charming. She whistled at that sight, as her tail swung up and down, almost on its own.

“Alright, lass. This is my place. Yer phone might work here, but if ya need a landline, we have that too inside.”

At Mao’s remark, Myadeline checked her device, a device she had almost forgotten to have carried with her, in that signal-less hour of car travel. One bar of signal. Not stellar, but good enough to call the rental agency first and her manager later. In that moment, she decided kept the data connection off, not wanting to deal with instant messaging, notifications and emails.

“Thanks, Mao. I owe you one.”

“Sure ya do, but ya can pay yer debt already, if you wish.”

The raptor grabbed a huge carton box from the back of the pick-up, one of the two that occupied it together with Myadeline’s stuff and a couple canisters that had to be filled with spare fuel. Mao moved the box towards her.

“Fancy bringing the boxes inside with me? If you bring one, we can do this in one trip.”

Myadeline’s hand touched the carton, took hold of its sides. It didn’t feel heavy, if anything it was surprisingly light. There were holes on the side, as wide as a finger. She had a quick glance at it, almost if to ascertain the content of what she was supposed to carry.

“Wait, is this… fur?”

Gruda’s growl emerged from the back of the van, as he was still laying down with his eyes closed.

“Yep. Neko fur. Mao and I look for young house cats on the Way and make good coats out of them. Right, Mao? They make a nice penny on the black market.”

Silence. Neither Mao nor Myadeline said anything. They quickly glanced at each other without a word, before shaking their heads almost simultaneously. Mao lowered his voice to a barely whisper.

“Gruda’s sense of humor is more wrecked than my pick-up, lass. Don’t mind him, he do be abrasive like sandpaper, but he’s gotta a heart, under that snark. I swear!”

The grumpy raptor’s remarks weren’t all that interesting to her. The content of the box was what made her more curious. She shook it a little, almost to hear if it made a noise she could recognize. Curiosity was killing her. Her fingers started to play with the tape, as her tail swung faster and faster, till a meowing sound escape her lips. Mao grinned, patted her back.

“No need to destroy them carton! They’re plushies, lass. Thirty-five koala plushies.”

“Koala plushies?”

“And not any koala! Kon the koala! He do be our mascot, the mascot of me orphanage!”

“Orphanage?!”

A finger pointed towards the pink building, towards the decoration.

“Yes! Wally’s House. That do be it! I’ve founded it… what was it, four years ago? Time does fly.”

It was hard to read facial expressions on the reptile’s rigid head structure, but Myadeline had the impression that Mao was smiling.

“This ain’t much, but it’s a small Christmas appetizer for me children. I’ve had a custom plushie made for each of them. The true present will come later, provided we get enough donations.”

An orphanage. The raptor was running an orphanage, in the middle of the outback, in a town that couldn’t have more than three thousand souls. Myadeline’s jaw almost hit the floor at that realization. That felt strange on so many levels. Mao noticed her wide eyes, her tail restlessly moving left and right.

“There’s reason why we’ve opened it here, lass. See that other building?”

He nodded in the direction of a grey concrete structure, surrounded by barbed wire, with huge headlights and what looked like drones resting on perimeter towers.

“That’s Gruda’s HQ. There are two military units there, all from the Outback Restoration Front. My kids all lost their parents to the mozzies. They do be young, five till ten years old, all of them. Most were saved by the soldiers. That lazy cyclops rescued ten of them alone, even though he won’t ever tell ya that. Thanks to them army, there’s some money running here in Marrowstone, so we miss very little, and no mozzie gets in undetected. There are always guards on rotation 24/7 and they got some very heavy weapons too. Which is good, because I… I can’t touch a rifle anymore.”

Mao’s voice had a weird inflection, a touch of sadness that had been concealed until then. It was just a moment, however. He turned back to his cheerful self after a short pause.

“But, yeah, I can afford riding away for days because of the base, ‘cause the people there know their shit. That’s somethin’ Gruda and I learned in New Hope – never let your guard down. We built all of this together with that idea in mind.”

He started walking towards the pink building. Myadeline followed immediately after, carrying the box of koalas while peeking at the military installation. She noticed a couple silhouettes in the distance, people in loose tactical gear watching the horizon with binoculars, some rifle in hand, some simply minding their own business. It felt like a surreal sight, one she wasn’t ready for. Mao kept on talking, like a radio that couldn’t be switched off.

“Them soldiers that are sent here are all people who lost something. They help me with the orphanage too, when they have time. Maybe they do that to fill that emptiness. Them kids love’em and they love them kids. Sometimes, before they go back to the city, they adopt one of the children, ‘cause they healed together here. That always makes me emotional.”

All that talk about parents made Myadeline fall silent. Her mother Millicent loved her dearly, despite everything, despite her birth being the reason why her marriage fell apart. Yes, Millicent wasn’t a neko. Her husband wasn’t a neko. But Myadeline was. That could only mean something, something that her mother’s partner couldn’t accept, something that led to the divorce and her status of bastard child. After she was born, she was registered with her mother’s maiden name – Heargreaves, since her father didn’t even know she existed. Millicent was quite evasive about the circumstances that led to her birth, deflecting most, if not all questions about her father. The only thing that Myadeline had managed to find out was that she was conceived in Euterpe during a business trip, and that the neko that fathered her was in his twenties, had very nice abs, nipple piercings and a barcode under his collar bone. Her mother had never told her more than this, despite repeated inquiries. So, in a way, Myadeline had given up on her quest to meet her dad and instead lived her life with her single mom, back in the safe part of Ireland. At least, contrary to those orphans, she was still fortunate to have someone who cared for her. Suddenly, her view was hijacked by a movement in the distance.

Children. Many of them. Boys and girls. A couple soldiers around too, taking them by hand, carrying some on their shoulders. Myadeline stared at them with a hint of surprise. They were all waving at them, waving at the green dinosaur.

“Uncle Mao! Uncle Mao is back!”

“Uncle Mao! What did you bring us?”

“Uncle Mao! Uncle Mao!”

Mao left the box on the ground, ripped the carton open with his claw, the same claw that made velociraptors infamous thanks to a movie. He put his hands inside the box, pulled out one of the koalas. Myadeline found herself smiling. The little stuffed animal looked adorable, with the small eucalyptus branch kept among his arms.

“Yo, lads! Guess what? The Kon plushies I promised!”

The children closed in, hugged the raptor. More and more came from the building, much to Myadeline’s surprise. Ten, twenty, thirty. So many of them. All around Mao, all cheering as he started giving out the plushies.

“There’s one for each of you, don’t fret! We got them custom, yes? With the li’l accessories ya wanted!”

Myadeline put her box down too, ripped the tape with her nails, left it for Mao to distribute, under the fascinated gaze of the soldiers. One of them strode to them, a rather young guy with brown hair and grey eyes, wearing a ripped green tank top, camo pants and flip-flops. As the children took started playing with their new toys, he casually approached the dinosaur, whistling in admiration.

“Yo, Mao, we got the bank transfer from Japan as usual, as punctual as a heart attack. There’s even more money this month around, even if it ain’t enough to cover all expenses. Still, your anonymous benefactor’s loaded, I tell you what, mate.”

“Any note attached to it?”

“Yep, the usual. Don’t buy koalas, Mao. If I know you’re having koalas, I’ll kick your ass down to Canberra, for Grant’s sake.”

Mao’s voice turned into a gurgling sound, something that could have been confused with laughter.

“He do be like that. He just wanna tease. She’ll all be right.”

“I hope it for you, mate.”

The soldier’s eyes moved to Myadeline, surprise taking over his face.

“Wait a g’damn second! You are… are you by chance… Myadeline Heargreaves?!”

At those words, Myadeline started twisting her hair with her finger, biting her lip in the process.

“I… might, yes. Nice to meet you.”

Mao looked at him, looked at Myadeline, looked again at him.

“Huh, how do ya know the lass, Chris?”

The soldier stared back at Mao, dumbfounded.

“Mate, you can’t be serious! She’s, like, the most famous top model in the biz right now! Her photoshoot on Skin…”

Myadeline’s ears fell down, as her piercings clinked. That nude photoshoot had been a huge career boon that made her win points and notoriety within the fashion world, but it wasn’t something she was explicitly fond of. It was easy to pose naked in front of a camera. It was impersonal, only her and the objective. Talking with someone who bought the magazine for her nude photos, though, was seriously creepy. That Chris, though, seemed a rather okay person. Not the stereotypical basement-dweller, at least. She raised her arm, finger to the sky, faked a smile, hiding her discomfort behind a smug face, her tail swinging restlessly around her hips.

“Yes, I’m the first neko top model that took the fashion world by storm! And I’m still rising! In my field, you have to snatch all the chances you get and also those you don’t get! Only like this you can reach the top!”

Mao squinted at her, rubbed his chin.

“Ya mammals look all the same to me. I can’t say I recognize her, but if ya say so, Chris…”

He shrugged, turned towards the soldier.

“Now, can ya please go to the pick-up and give it a check, mate? I think I’ve broke something yesterday, but I couldn’t find out what. Imma deal with the children now and Gruda’s still dozing, so…”

Chris stared at him, stared back at Myadeline, then at the raptor again.

“Of all times, now?”

“‘fraid so. Gotta deal with other chores later and can’t afford surprises, yes?”

“Okay, okay…”

He glanced at him as he started to lazily step away from the crowd of kids, each of which was now holding a koala plushie in hand. Myadeline wiped her forehead, a sigh of relief, her tail stopped moving.

“T… thanks, Mao.”

“No worries, lass. Ya’re a cool cat. I’d never thought you do be famous, though. Ya didn’t say anything in the car, yes?”

“I don’t care about fame. Besides…”

She didn’t even complete her answer that a choir of squeaky voices interrupted their conversation.

“Uncle Mao, uncle Mao! Who’s the cat lady?”

“Her ears look so fluffy!”

“Look at that tail! She has a tail like Mykila!”

“Is she Mykila’s cousin?”

Before she knew it, Myadeline was surrounded by a flock of kids, coming from every side. She squatted down, stared at the group of children surrounding her and the raptor. Curiosity. There was curiosity in their eyes. Not repulsion or surprise, just curiosity. Then, she spotted it. A small girl. With cat ears and tail too. Standing slightly afar, almost keeping out of sight. Myadeline’s ears twitched. Those of the child too, in a similar pattern. She had long-ish red hair and a red fur, compared with Myadeline’s dark hazel. She glanced at her for a second or two, while the other kids started touching her tail, stroking it.

“So, there are other cat people?”

“Mykila! Look! She’s like you!”

Mao patted Myadeline on the hair, grinned with all of his teeth.

“Nah, nah! Mykila’s tough as nails, she already knows how to drill metal and work with engines! Myadeline here’s a house cat, from the city! She do be a nice gal, but Mykila’s stronger! Tell’em, Mykila! Show’em yer fangs!”

The girl called Mykila slowly stepped forward, among the crowd of children, until she reached Myadeline. She raised her little arm, her fingers touching the adult neko’s ears, then her own ones.

“You… you look like m… mom…?”

“Sorry, petite, I’m… not her.”

The child squinted, crossed her arms.

“Yeah, duh, of course you ain’t. Mom had muscles. You’re a twig, mate! Do more pull-ups, or the mozzies gonna eat you!”

Laughter. Choirs of laughter. From each side. All the children laughing. Myadeline froze for an instant, resisted the urge to snap that little girl’s neck, calmed down slowly. Slowly. Yes, it was fine. It was totally fine. A whisper, Mao’s voice in her ear.

“Please, excuse her. Imma doing my best, but these kids are real pests, lass! Gruda’s being a bad influence on’em.”

The raptor growled something under his breath, lowered his voice even further.

“Among us, I’d like to be able to do more, but we’re kinda strapped for money. Aside from an anonymous donor from Japan, we survive on government subsidies. Till they last, that is. Rumor has it that the right’s gonna cut’em if they win the next elections. Nobody cares about an orphanage lost in the middle of nowhere, truth be told.”

“Nobody cares…?”

Myadeline stared at him, at the children, at the sassy little neko still giving her the gaze. She took out her phone. One bar. Passable internet connection. An idea went through her mind, an idea that made sense only because she was who she had become. Myadeline wagged her tail, smirked at the raptor.

“Well, that’s something we can change, mate.”

**

“That gigantic moron! Didn’t I tell him no koalas? I hate koalas, they’re useless critters, useless! Tell’em! Tell’em, ‘Noco!”

The mix of growls and gnashed words filled the room at irregular intervals, causing Mono to chuckle wildly.

“If you keep yelling like this, the neighbors will complain, Wally.”

“Well, screw the neighbors, then!”

The raptor rolled his eyes – both his biological one and the mechanical prosthetic that replaced the one he lost months before. He kept petting the back of the strange, pitch-black animal sleeping at his feet, taking care of not scratching his mane. Still, despite the grumbling, despite the screeches, Wally seemed at peace. Happy, even. Mono had to learn how to interpret his absence of true facial expressions, but now she was confident she had a solid grasp on them. Even his voice had an unusual pinch of warmth.

“See, oversized cat? This is all over the g’darn internet! A reportage from Wally’s House, the outback orphanage ran by a velociraptor. All thanks to a g’darn house cat!”

“Hey!”

“… of the anorexic, dick-swallowing type.”

“Ah!”

Mono sat close to him, looked at the screen of his device. Several pictures of a desolate land, a pink building with koala decorations. Lots and lots of children with koala plushies, playing with a green dinosaur. A sleeping raptor with a scarred eye. Soldiers drinking coffee in their slippers, rifle in hand. And, in all other pictures, a neko with hazel, neck-length spiky hair and shining hazel eyes. A neko that had been everywhere and anywhere in the last few months. A neko that now was pulling a lot of eyes on the structure. Wally browsed through the pictures, stopping several times when Mao or Gruda were shown, letting out long sighs in between. Only to see the obnoxious neko again, posing with them now and again. Still, it felt good. They were still alive and kicking. Mono hugged him, rubbed her cheek against his scales.

“You’re happy for them, aren’t you?”

“They called their orphanage Wally’s House. Wally’s… House. There’s my name on it…”

His claw browsed his pocket, reached for a drawing, the usual drawing he never let go of.

“I don’t deserve that, sis.”

He felt something hard on his forehead, a palm pushing it against the sofa.

“Baka! Of course you do! You’re still their captain, yes? You send three quarters of what you earn to them every single fricking month! So, chin up, Wally!”

Wally growled once again, before looking at the screen another time. The number of visualizations and shares was growing exponentially, every minute more. The comments were all about asking how to contribute or send donations. Very few trolls. Genuine interactions. Wally patted Orinoco’s head, wrote a comment too from his burner account (“I said no koalas! Was that so hard?”), then scrolled forward, until he reached one specific picture. Mao and Gruda, surrounded by kids. Mao and Gruda. Laughing Together. Like in the old times. A sense of pride grew inside him, pride he didn’t feel in ages. He locked the screen, let the memories fade away with it.

Mao and Gruda managed to move on and make their common dream real.

It was darn time he did too.