Taming the Zookeeper

“Duck!” Francesca’s voice rang out, just as a shower of silver-laced bullets whizzed over our heads.

She pushed me into a ditch, and we lay there, hearts pounding, as the bullets continued to fly, their whistling sounds too close for comfort.

Francesca was sprawled over me, her chin tucked in, shielding me from the deadly rain above.

Her breath was quick and hot against my neck, just below my olive-green army helmet. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and the metallic scent of fresh blood.

“Thanks,” I murmured into her golden hair as she cautiously lifted her head to survey our surroundings.

The gunfire had shifted direction, now aimed further to our left. “We’re good, let’s go,” she whispered, pulling me up and leading the way.

We moved swiftly, staying low, navigating through the dry grass towards the remnants of an old storage building.

My jet-black ponytail clung to the back of my neck, slick with sweat. The heat was oppressive, the air thick with humidity and buzzing insects.

The bulletproof vest I wore felt like a lead weight, and the heavy combat boots didn’t help either.

“Over there,” she whispered, slowing down and pointing towards a building in the distance.

Francesca turned to me, her brown eyes wide with worry. The alpha’s voice was filled with desperation and agitation.

“Duty calls,” I whispered, patting her shoulder before standing up.

“No, Melena!” Francesca’s voice was filled with panic as I sprinted towards the battered building in the distance.

I had already wasted too much time. The alpha’s son’s life was hanging in the balance, and it was up to me to save him. This wasn’t the time for caution; it was the time for action.

I gripped the straps of my backpack as I ran, the sounds of gunfire and shouting echoing around me. But my focus was on the ruined building ahead.

The world around me seemed to fade as I concentrated on reaching my destination. I could hear the rush of blood in my ears, the pounding of my heart.

Suddenly, a strong pull on my backpack made me stumble, but I quickly regained my footing and continued running.

I could hear Francesca firing shots behind me, but I didn’t have time to look back. I had to reach Marcus before it was too late.

Just as I was about six feet away, the door of the building flew open. I dove headfirst into the darkness, bullets whizzing past me.

Before I could hit the ground, I was yanked aside by the straps of my backpack, pulled out of the line of fire.

“Melena! Over here!” Alpha Julian’s voice brought me back to reality. I was pulled to my feet by the straps of my bag.

Otis.

“Are you hurt?” His voice was deep, his eyes filled with concern as he studied my face.

I took a moment to assess myself. Apart from the scratches and bruises, I didn’t feel any severe pain.

“I...I don’t think so,” I managed to say, my voice shaky.

He nodded and directed me towards Alpha Julian, who was kneeling beside his son’s bloody body.

The sight of my friend lying in a pool of his own blood sent a sharp pain through my heart. But I pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

As I set my bag down next to us, I noticed the scorched area where a bullet had pierced the metal-lined fabric.

“He’s still breathing, but his heartbeat is fading,” Alpha Julian said, his voice filled with desperation.

“Please, Alpha, step back. Let me work,” I said, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

Otis stepped in, pulling Alpha Julian away and distracting him with updates from the battlefield.

Otis was our beta, Alpha Julian’s right-hand man.

And right now, I was racing against time to save the life of his eldest son, Marcus, the future leader of our pack, Feral Grove.

My hands moved swiftly, my mind calm as I began to remove as much silver as I could from the open wound.

I instructed a nearby warrior to apply pressure to the wound to stem the flow of blood.

“Julian, they’re retreating!” Otis shouted from the door. Alpha Julian rushed over to see for himself.

“We need to get him to the infirmary, now!” I called out, my hands still working on Marcus’s wound.

“NOW!” I repeated, not caring if I was being disrespectful. If we didn’t act fast, Marcus would be dead within hours.

“You heard her! Move!” Alpha Julian ordered his men.

They quickly gathered around us, carefully sliding their hands under Marcus’s limp body.

“Ready on two!” I shouted, and they all bobbed their heads in agreement. “One, two.” The men hoisted, and I extended my legs in sync with their motion, my hands firmly planted on Marcus’s injury.

“You holding up?” I questioned the warrior who had his hands pressed against the young alpha’s chest. His eyes were as big as dinner plates and sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, but he gave a frantic nod of affirmation.

“Alright, let’s move,” I commanded, and we all began to shuffle together toward the exit.

An old pickup truck pulled up swiftly in front of the building, and a warrior hopped out to unlatch the back for us.

“Best I could do, Doc,” he panted, his body marred with blood smears and scrapes.

“It’ll work, thanks,” I responded with a nod as we hoisted Marcus up onto the back of the truck, with me and the other warrior clambering on after him.

“Keep the pressure on that.” I looked at the warrior sternly, motioning toward the chest wound. He nodded again and the truck lurched into motion.

“Let Doctor Keller know we’re coming!” I hollered back at Otis one last time as we sped off toward the pack house.