Piers Torday - The Last Wild

I can’t believe he’s saying that they’re going to die right in front of them, but the infected animals don’t even blink. I take a step back.

*Why are you showing me? What do you expect me to do about it?*

The words sound harder outside my head than they did inside, but I didn’t mean them to. The stag shakes his horns, like he’s astonished. A murmur runs through the crowd.

*Why do you think, young human? Because you can help us — to find a cure.*

*But I’m just a boy. I mean, the best scientists in the world, they’ve tried —*

*You are a boy who can hear us and speak for us. You can tell your fellow men that the last wild still lives and bring us a cure — a special cure from your human magic.*

Human magic that has failed so far.

*But I can’t. Talk to other humans, I mean.*

*The human has many ways of making himself understood, of that I am sure.* The stag bends his head and front legs, like he’s bowing. *But we only have you.*

I have one last try. *I still don’t understand why you chose me.*

*You spoke to us. You spoke to the moth, the cockroach. You have the gift of the voice.*

I shake my head. That’s what the pigeons said in my room, but I don’t have any gift. Apart from getting further and further away from home, it seems.

The stag fixes me squarely in the eye. *When we heard that there was a boy who tried to talk to us, we decided to summon you here.*

*I wasn’t trying to talk to them. I was …* The words falter in my head before they are out as I look at the last animals left in the world, led by a great stag — all waiting on me.

He repeats himself one more time. *The question is, now you are here — will you help us?*

I look around at the rock behind me, the dark water beyond, the silver trees stretching on for miles around its edge. The middle of nowhere, full of animals with redeye, animals who will die if I don’t help them. The last animals ever. A wild, he called them.

I think. I think some more.

There is one small chance. So small — but it is the only chance they have. I take a step towards the stag and I say it.

*I don’t have the magic to find a cure for the berry-eye.* The animals cry out in despair. *But my father is a famous scientist — a human magician, who works with animals. He might be able to help.*

A buzz of chatter sweeps through the wild. The stag quiets them down, and turns to me again.

*You are sure of this? You are sure your father’s magic can cure the berry-eye?*

No, I’m not. Six years have passed, and I have heard nothing. People still live in cities under glass roofs eating Facto-made formula. The countryside is still a quarantine zone, and as I can see right in front of me, the virus is still very much raging. But maybe, in six years, Dad has made some progress. I just nod, and to my surprise the animals scatter. The stag barks again. But they don’t listen. They’re panicking, stampeding. The sound of animals of all kinds trampling and splashing across the shore fills the air. What did I say? The stag lowers his head and growls, like he’s going to charge at me.

*Kester!* call all the pigeons from above. *Look out!*

It’s too late.

A creature thumps straight into me from behind, sending me flying to the ground, the wind knocked clean out of my chest so I can barely breathe. I try to move, but heavy sharp claws are pressing into my back. There’s a smell of rotten meat. Just behind my ear, a low hoarse voice whispers with a hiss –

*Who did this? Who let a human into the Ring of Trees?*

I gasp for air. The weight crushes me further and further into the pulpy ground.

*Let the man-child go,* orders the stag.

The creature just presses his heavy foot further down on to my back, growling deep in his throat. I try to twist my head round and catch a glimpse of a long snout, the black lips pulled back over the teeth.

*No human may enter the Ring of Trees,* it snarls. A wet nose runs all over my back and neck, snuffling and sucking. *There is no point talking to this thing.* Then another hissing breath. *We must destroy it.*

My head pressed into the mulch, all I can see out of the corner of my eye is the stag bowing his huge head of horns.

*Noble Guardian — the blame lies with me. I summoned the man-child here. We discovered he had the voice. I sent the pigeons and the cockroaches to collect him. He will go to the humans and tell them that the last wild still lives. That it is not too late to save us. His father is a great human who will deliver a magic cure.*

The beast on my back grunts and sniffs me once more. *No human has ever been allowed within the Ring of Trees since we first arrived. It is only our vigilance that has kept us alive till now. We are Guardians of this wild, not you.*

He grinds his paw deeper down into my back. I want to tell him that the berry-eye arrived before I did, and I try to speak, but nothing comes out.

*What if the human in question has come to help us?* asks the stag.

*The only help a human can ever offer us will be the kind that aids our own destruction.*

The stag peers down at me, trapped face down on the ground. I’m choking on moss and mud. He paces around for a moment, like he’s thinking, before saying to the beast –

*Very well — then I will fight you for him.*

The snouted creature heaves his body round and gives a high-pitched howl. Other whines come back at him from all sides. There are more of these things, whatever they are.

Then the thing lifts his foot off me and air rushes back into my lungs. I manage to crawl out of the light to the edge of the woods. My sight slowly swims back to normal, everything coming into focus. I can just make out the stag to my right, pawing the ground, his head lowered. Behind him, the last wild huddle together for safety, reaching far back along the shore.

I can see why they are scared of the thing that knocked me to the ground, the thing about to take on the stag. He’s the leader of a seven-strong pack, animals I have only ever seen once before, on a screen in Dad’s lab. I take a quick picture of them with my watch just to be sure I’m not dreaming.

Wolves — they’re definitely wolves.

Their fur is greyish brown. They have long snouts and sharp teeth, and even sharper-looking claws on their giant padded feet. The largest one, the one who jumped me — has grizzled fur around his jaw. He’s so large it’s a miracle he didn’t snap me in half.

The youngest of the pack, a cub about half the size of the others, looks ready to take us all on and win. A pink tongue darts out between his bared teeth, under his velvety black muzzle.

He shouts angrily, his eyes flashing straight at me.

*You will see! You cannot win against my father, he is the best fighter in the whole world!* He thinks for a moment. *And you smell strange!*

Some of the watching animals titter, but the grizzled wolf snaps at the cub to be quiet and then pulls back on his haunches, ears pointed, hackles raised and teeth bared. He growls, a deep, shuddering sound. Just a few metres in front of him, the stag paws the earth and lowers his head.

There’s a flitter-flutter behind me and I turn to see the pigeons, who have dropped down into the grass.

*Can’t you stop this?* I ask them.

*It is the animal way.*

*But what about the berry-eye — the reason you brought me here? What about me? What will happen if the stag loses?*

*Then you will belong to the wolf.*

I stagger up. My voice sounds light and faraway, like it’s coming out of a hole in the ground. I wave woozily at the stag.