The Wilds

V - Diana

Four years after

   One.

   Two.

   Three.

   As the first chords of another song blasting through her earphones began, Diana contemplated the many meters separating her from the finishing line, signalled with bright red paint on the other side of the track. Mumbling the lyrics under her breath she backed her weight on her calves and knees, hands that had once rested on the hot concrete leaving it as she took off sprinting.

   Picking up the pace, Diana let her body free to do its thing, the roving of her stride becoming all but automatic, her arms tight, hands balled into fists, following the movement beside the body. Her feet met the ground hard, sending shockwaves up her legs, lungs heaving and chest burning after her many many runs, but Diana didn’t care as she pushed herself to beat those extra meters.

   Only allowing herself to slow down after she passed the finish line.

   Pressing the button to stop the timer as she fished her phone out of the armband, Diana took off her earphones, the final chorus of the song fading into the background, before checking the numbers that flashed on and off on the screen. She smirked: 300 meters in twenty-nine seconds, a new world record. Not that she could compete with regular humans no, but it still felt f*****g nice.

   She broke her pace into a semi-ran then a jog before finally slowing down to a stroll as she headed towards the bench where her things, a water bottle filled with Monster and a black Asics bag respectively, were waiting for her. Plopping herself down on it, Diana pushed a few stubborn strands of hair away from her face as she took a sip of the drink, letting her gaze travel through the patio around her.

   The Apex complex, known crudely as just The Apex spread through her sight as a myriad of large, recent but lifeless – and downright depressive grey buildings, all huddled around the main courtyard like a group of gossiping children… If only children were a set of provisional housing that ended up turning permanent. The trees in the patio were nice she supposed, and there was also the track course, multiple gyms and libraries, and a movie room to try and give the residents some resemblance of a sense of occupation, but it still felt hollow and empty somehow. Perhaps because unlike her, most of the subjects didn’t leave their rooms much.

   With a sigh, Diana put the bag on her shoulder, slipped the water bottle in one of its pouches and got up. Her muscles were sore all over, the thighs in particular feeling almost numb, but to be honest? She kind of liked it: she had run through most of the morning, at least ten laps and fifteen or so 300m dashes, yet somehow the pent-up energy inside her body still screamed, pleaded, demanded release; the slight ache in her joints being the only thing keeping it in check.

   Walking around the bench, she headed for the nearest building, just as grey and boring as the next and the one after it, the only difference amongst them being the large, numbered plates next to the doors: 1, 2, and 3 in the south, 4 and 5 in the north, 6 and 7 in the west. Stepping through the main entrance, Diana let out a snort of laughter at finding the lobby without a soul, all of its doors wide open, and Balor, the volunteer doorman and security soundly asleep. Deciding not to wake him, she headed down the main stairs towards the basement in quick strides, the bag on her shoulder bouncing as she covered the steps two at a time.

   The gym was a bit more crowded if compared with the rest of the building and the courtyard. It wasn’t remotely close to packed, with a few lone souls spread amongst the weights, bars, and treadmills whilst others gathered around the central ring, a steel beam stage topped by foam padding and a canvas cover, with four ring ropes flanking each corner, where two men – both felines if the sounds of hissing said anything, were fighting. Diana ignored the fight, the pungent smell of blood and sweat lodging in her nostrils and making her grimace as she made her way to the back of the gym.

    “There she is,” her friend Freyja acknowledged, eyes not averting from the weights above her as she bench-pressed. “I thought I smelled Monster Energy”.

    “Oh shut up” Diana replied rolling her eyes in fake annoyance as she dropped her bag to the floor.

    “I will” Freyja retorted, the words coming out laboured as she struggled to lift the bar enough to place it on the hold above her head “If you put in more twenty-five for me”.

    “Twenty-five?!” Diana asked, more rhetorically than anything, raising an eyebrow but moving to take a plate from the rack anyway.

    “Mhm, on each side” Freyja completed. They locked eyes for a second as Diana lifted the plate enough to fit it to the end of the bar. She smirked, shaking her head slightly and Frey chuckled.

   With the two plates fitted to the barbell, Diana positioned herself behind Freyja, facing both the bar and the blue braids of her friend's hair as she placed the hands on either side of it, locking them tightly in place to stabilize the wrists. Diana held to the middle, following the woman’s movement and aiding her to pull the bar out of its hold. Once the weight seemed secure enough in Freyja’s hands, Diana relaxed her grip and finally let go, though let her hand hovering closeby in case anything happened. 

    “How about ten reps?” she asked and Freyja nodded beneath her.

   For the next few minutes, Diana watched Freyja struggle but proudly pull off the ten repetitions of 250 pounds. It was more than plenty, even for a subject. Yet Freyja had always been competitive, hadn’t she? Willing to go above and beyond just to prove herself, to own up to the beasts they were built to be. Some could dwell on it, whilst others made the most of it, and Frey was definitely the last sort.

   Diana didn’t know in which category she fit.

    “And… Done” Freyja said through gritted teeth as she finished the last repetition. Diana helped her fit the barbell back in its place and, once it was done, chuckled as the lioness let her body fall back against the seat with a contented sigh. Supporting her forearms on the bar, Diana leaned her body forward on it and peered down at her friend. “Do we have a meeting today?”.

    “Yep” Diana answered, popping the ‘p’ on the end of the word, and Frey groaned “I have no idea when, though”.

    “Ask Fenris, he’s coming this way” 1343 heard her friend answer but didn’t bother to check if it was true. Freyja had always had a better sense of smell than she, anyway. Everyone had.

   And indeed, a few seconds later Fenris, all big, burly, and tatted up came sauntering down her line of view. He was grinning as would an overexcited dog dying to show his owner the squirrel it hunted, all the while proudly displaying the scar that cut the side of his jaw, interrupting his beard and making him look even more dashing. Or maybe Diana just had a thing for wolves, who knows.

    “Girls,” he acknowledged, that usual smug smirk of his dancing on his lips.

    “It’s ladies to you,” Freyja remarked.

    “Eh, I see no ladies here” he winked at her “Actually, I was expecting at least a few” his voice dropped to a disappointed murmur as his gaze travelled across the gym, mostly filled with men as it was.

    “They saw you coming and ran off” Diana shrugged, hiding a grin behind her blasé expression.

    “Hey, that’s mean” Fenris replied in mock offence, hands on his hips while doing an unnervingly convincing job of looking hurt. Freyja’s loud snicker pierced through the room, making a few heads, if not most of them, shoot in their direction. With half the gym staring at them, Frey shut her mouth and looked the other way in embarrassment, her gaze finding a trench in the concrete wall by the side of them and fixing on it as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet.

    “Anyway,” Fen began, unbothered by the stares as he hoisted Freyja’s legs up so he could sit on the spot of the bench where they had once been. Sprawling them on his lap, he continued: “Have you two seen Atlas?”.

    “No”.

    “Yes”.

    “Great answers” Fen whispered lowly, tone loaded with sarcasm, and snickered when one of Freyja’s legs came up to kick him in the ribs, which he caught mid-air. Placing it back on his lap, he gave the lioness a wink before turning to look at Diana, prompting her to continue:

    “He was in the patio when I went out for a run,” Diana told him.

    “What was he doing?”.

    “Was on the phone, talking to Charon I think” she answered and gave Fen an annoyed glare when he sneered at the mention of Charon’s name.

    “How was he like?” asked Fenris, and, as Diana lifted an eyebrow at him, completed: “Like, did he sound or look worried? He’s been acting weird as f**k lately”.

    “Weird how?” asked Freyja.

    “Oh, ye’ know… Strange, secretive and s**t. Serious”.

    “That’s Atlas all the time,” Diana remarked and Freyja hummed in agreement.

    “True, true. But I think he’s gotta be keeping something from us. All the signs are there”.

   She raised her eyebrows: “Do you even care if he is?”

    “Nope” he replied, looking even a bit proud of himself, and Diana huffed.

   They talked for a few minutes more, most of it simply banter. Diana could barely keep to the conversation, her mind wandering to the suspicions Fenris had risen. It was true, Atlas did seem more uptight than usual, which was saying something. When she had seen him on the patio a few hours before, he had been whispering loudly on the phone, looking all but miserable and even a tad pissed, though any anger had been safely hidden behind his usual thick layer of restraint, leaving only the tight line of his mouth to show for it. If there was something Diana didn’t like, it was having secrets kept from her. Or decisions. And that particular situation smelled of both.

    “Hey you two, I’m gonna go find Daphne,” she said as she got up. “She may have some answers,” she thought of adding, but ultimately decided not to.

   Freyja acknowledged it with a nod: “She’s probably with the kids”.

    “Is she still stuck with them?” Fenris asked, combing the hair that fell on his forehead back with one hand “And I thought she’d be teaching the big guys by now”.

    “Like you? You could use it, you know” Diana questioned, straightening her eyes mockingly at the pout that formed on Fen’s lips.

    “Very funny, D. I’m fluent in English already, thank you very much”.

    “It’s because she’s a woman” Freyja added to their banter, “They won’t let her teach the adults. Good ol’ misogyny if you ask me”.

    “Eh I don’t know, I’m not fluent in misogyny yet”.

   The children’s wing was an isolated area of building 5, encompassing whole three floors plus the penthouse – that being where Daphne seemed to be at that moment. After asking around and having the directions pointed out to her, Diana got into the elevator, surprisingly cranky for such a modern-looking thing as all the elevators in The Apex were, pressed the button that led to the penthouse, and let her body fall back against the wall behind her. Closing her eyes, she began humming the beats of a song that had been in her head throughout most of the morning but she couldn’t for the life of her remember the name nor the lyrics.

   Tu dum tu dum tu dum tu duum; ta da ta da ta da ta daa.

   At last, the doors of the elevator opened and Diana stepped out. She had expected chaos, or if not at least a bit of mess. But alas, the children were all scattered around the room, sitting peacefully on colourful puffs, some writing on papers, others with both their mouths and fingers smudged of chocolate cake. Daphne was in the middle of the room, crouched in front of a nervous-looking boy, her chestnut brown hair pulled into a ponytail with a mess of loose strands framing her face. She didn’t look all that tired, at least.

    “You got almost all of them right, Boggie” said Daphne, addressing the paper they both held at face level. She brought a hand up and the boy high-fived her timidly.

    “Will I… get cake?” he asked, stuttering a bit.

    “Yes,” the teacher replied, letting go of the paper they both held and getting up. Crossing the room towards the table that held said cake, she cut a slice of it, enveloped it in a napkin, and turned to the boy, now so eager he was on his tiptoes “Here you go” she said, giving him the cake. The boy didn’t even thank her, merely holding the slice in both hands as if it were an offering and running back to where some other kids were grouped in a particularly large green puff.

    “His name is Boggie?” asked Diana, making herself known as she approached Daphne. The teacher lifted her eyes to meet her and smiled, a smile with dimples.

    “Yes,” she replied as Diana sat on the only free puff available. With a sigh, Daphne dropped down next to her and wrapped her hands around her knees “From Chernobog”.

    “The kid’s name is Chernobog?!”

    “Yes. His file said something about him coming from somewhere” Daphne stretched the ‘somewhere’, lifting her hands from her knees to make a broad gesture “in Eastern Europe. And you know how Kaplan is, he wants to give ethnically-correct names to everybody”.

    “Yup, just like Brahma is from Pakistan instead of India”. Diana rolled her eyes and Daphne giggled lightly.

    “He can’t get it right with everyone” she shrugged.

   A tired, contemplative silence fell between them as they both studied the children and the penthouse around them. Looking at Daphne side-eyed, Diana could just about see the hairs on her friend’s arms up in agitation. She wished they weren’t, that Daph would only trust her – and all the other predators except Charon for the matter, but with Diana’s own instincts on edge from being so close to a prey subject, there wasn’t really anything she could do, was there? They weren’t meant to be friends, at least when it came down purely to their nature.

   But then again, deer weren’t exactly on Diana’s diet either.

    “What are you teaching them?” she broke the silence to ask, letting her body fall propped up on her elbows.

    “Nationalities” Daphne responded, looking back at her with her peripheral vision. “It’s especially hard, but they’re managing. Well, kind of. I’ve had four of them say people from Germany are Germs”.

   Diana barked a laugh and Daphne giggled under her breath.

Daph was the one to break the silence this time: “Did you want to talk to me?”.

    “Yes,” Diana replied straightforward “I wanted to know if Charon has told you about what he and Atlas have been hiding”.

    “He hasn’t,” the teacher said after a few seconds where the wheels nearly visibly turned inside her head “I know something is going on, he’s been stressed, but I don’t know what exactly”.

    “s**t” Diana mumbled under her breath, exhaling loudly in frustration.

    “If it helps” Daphne murmured lowly, voice sounding indecisive “I heard him mention something about a murder, or maybe murders plural. I think he planned to tell the council but Atlas” and she stopped to gulp there, her nervousness not going unnoticed by Diana “stepped in and took the reins”.

   Diana was about to answer when one of the kids interrupted them to ask Daphne if she could give her slice of cake to a friend because “she is pretty”. They both smiled, though Diana’s was a minimal one, as they watched the little girl turn and hop towards her object of affection.

    “And they said romance is dead” Daphne muttered.

   And just like that, Diana remembered the name of the song that had been on her mind since morning: Ruby, by the Kaiser Chiefs.

Let it never be said the romance is dead

'Cause there's so little else occupying my head

There is nothing I need, 'cept the function to breathe

But I'm not really fussed doesn't matter to me.