2. H O L Y W A R : Target

CHAPTER VIII

"I wanna be a cheetah!"

"If only. But alas, we humans are confined to our fleshy, blobby, ticklish bodies, while cheetahs are like liquid muscle, full of fluidity and grace."

"Wish I could pet it."

"So do I, sweetie. But these aren't domesticated animals. They're wild, and they have to be respected. Remember—always respect the animals."

"Always respect the animals..."

...

Cameron's crusty, bloodshot eyes slowly opened, only to instantly squeeze shut as a pounding headache reverberated through her skull. She sat up quickly, crying, "Ah!" as she grabbed her head.

Something let out a strange, snorting huff next to her bed—which, she realized, wasn't her bed at all, but a hospital bed—and she turned sharply as a large-but-familiar figure rose alongside it.

Zechariah yawned and stretched as he woke from his own slumber, smacking his lips. "Good morning, Miss Cameron," he greeted the counselor with a tired smile, his whiskers twitching. "How are you feeling?"

Cameron rolled her neck with grunt and rubbed it, hearing (and feeling) it crack. "Well, I have a terrible headache," she replied moodily. "But other than that, I'm fine."

"Hm. I suppose that's the best news I could hope for." Zechariah sat back on his haunches. "I'm sorry to hassle you this early—and so soon after waking—but I have a few questions for you about what happened last night."

Cameron frowned. "Last night...?"

"Why did you send me here? Why would you do that to me?!"

"Oh, Cameron... if only you knew all the wonderful plans we have for you..."

"P-P-Plans?"

"Mhm. Just... hang in there, 'kay? It'll all be over soon..."

Cameron pulled her knees up to her chest, suddenly beginning to shake. "Zech?" she said in a small voice, her eyes filling with tears. "Have... have I ever told you why I'm so afraid of animals?"

"You have not," Zechariah answered, a pitying expression on his face.

Cameron exhaled. "Well... when I was a kid..."

-

P.O.V. – Zechariah

Zechariah sat and listened as Cameron told, without interruption, the story of how she had come to develop such a crippling case of zoophobia. She told of the breach at the zoo, being separated from her mother, and being left behind by that mysterious woman.

"It was the same woman last night," Cameron said in whisper as she finished her story. "The same woman who left me at the zoo... and who sent me here."

Zechariah's tail lashed behind him—the only sign of emotion he showed. "Do you know her name?"

Cameron nodded. "She had a nametag on. It said... 'KayCee'."

Zechariah's lip curled in a snarl. "KayCee," he repeated, practically spitting out the word.

"Yeah..." Cameron looked at Zechariah hopefully. "Do you know who she is?"

Zechariah met Cameron's gaze, holding it for a long moment. Then he said in a neutral tone, "Get some rest, Miss Cameron. An orderly will bring you breakfast in a few moments, and you'll be released thereafter." He turned and, as he headed out of the room, nodded to Cameron over his shoulder. "Good day."