Page 57 of Her Rabid Beasts

Lyle

Ten years ago

One spring evening when I was seventeen, Skye Ulman is bringing me and my siblings our nightly teacup of Milo when she whispers to me, “Dad got a tip-off from PETA. The animal rights group. I’ve never seen him so furious! They’re going to make us hand over all the lions. Even the cubs.”

Happiness whirls through me like a carnival carousel. The thought of my siblings and my parents living a normal life in a house, with normal bedrooms, where we can walk around freely? Just like the Ulman’s? Only in my wildest dreams did I think that was possible. No cattle prods. No cages. No stupid shows.

I press the “when” button, followed by the “question mark” button.

“They’re coming back in two weeks to give us time to close up,” she scoffs, strawberry blond plaits swaying. “Like Dad is going to give up hislife’swork? Like any of us are? They’re fucking stupid. All of ‘em.”

I press the “what” button, then “now” and then “question mark”. The electronic voice forms the sentence and I hold my breath.

She smiles sadly at me, and for some reason it makes me uneasy. “I’m not allowed to talk about it outside the house. But Dad says we’ll be set for life with the amount of money it’ll bring. It’s gonna be, like,millions. So I can go to uni and be a scientist just like my parents. But yeah. I’ll miss ya.” She scratches me behind the ear, just where my almost-adult mane grows, puts her bush hat on and scurries back toward her house. I press my head against the cool bars off the cage and listen to the crickets chirp their nightly song. For the first time in years, a little spark of hope lights up my chest.

Seven days later, men and women arrive at the park. They speak with different accents. They bring wooden crates that smell like new metal. Skye comes to see me.

“I wanted to give you this.” She opens her fist to reveal a pile of the jelly babies I love but get so infrequently, and I eagerly lap them up from her hand. She takes a deep breath. “Bye, Lyle. I’ll really miss you. But this is the way it has to be.”

We were leaving. Finally leaving this place. The PETA people must be on the other side, coming to save us. One of my litter-sisters comes up to rub her face against mine. She’s excited too. I nuzzle her back before the sliding door at the side of our cage opens up. Eagerly, everyone grabs their favourite toys. Mine is a blue-painted wooden carved angel that I snatch up with my jaws. I charge through the open door, my siblings right on my tail.

When I reach the end of the tunnel, the shiny bars are down on this side, locking me in. It’s newly built from the fresh, metallic smell and the new silver shine. Outside, there is no cage. It’s out in the open. My heart leaps in my chest. This is it. Freedom.

Outside, metal glints in the sunlight and I turn to see another tunnel with other lions waiting to exit. My mother stands on the other side, staring at me with wide, alert eyes. Behind her, I can make out my two fathers and my second mum.

Our parents are here with us. I’m shocked for a moment because we’ve never even been allowed to share a cage with our mother before. My heart thuds in my chest. This is amazing. We’ll all be together for the first time.

Heavy engines sound in the distance, and I know they’re the open safari trucks Ulman likes to use to transport guests around the sanctuary. All four of them appear. Ulman drives one, Mrs. Ulman drives another, and Skye and her brother drive the other two. They’re full of passengers.

Passengers who hold rifles.

The scent of human excitement is thick in the air. Are they going to dart us to move us to our new home? If so, why did they put us out in the open?

Ulman is smirking, his ruddy red beard twitching. He’s really happy with himself for some reason and it makes my skin crawl. I strain my ears to hear what they’re chattering about.

“Will we get to keep their pelts?” one human female asks.

“Sure, but it’ll be extra,” Ulman replies.

My heart becomes a hammer against my ribs.

There are excited murmurs from the humans.

My breath catches in my throat and I paw uncertainly at the tunnel’s exit. I suddenly don’t want to leave.

“On my mark!” Ulman shouts. “Now!” He fires a shot into the air.

The long walls of two tunnels fall outward, slamming into the dust. We’re out. We’re free. But where are we supposed to go?

I turn to look at my mother, confused. There is nothing between us but open air. I want to run to her, but?—

She shifts.

And it’s the first time in my life I see her in her human form. She is so beautiful it makes my heart hurt. Wild blonde hair, long down to her waist, rich brown eyes, and a face of wild beauty. But it is contorted in fear. In outrage.

The first human word I ever hear her utter comes out of her mouth in a scream. “Run!”

Shots are fired. Many of them. The sound vibrates the very air. My mother falls to the ground, bullet holes appearing in her abdomen. Her chest. My head whips around. It’s Ulman who has the smoking rifle in hand, his black eyes filled with anger. The humans in the jeeps are screaming.

---