1 To save my brother from a stampede of crazed, mutated beasts, I took the brunt of the infection. It twisted my body, turning me into a massive white tiger with a pair of useless, heavy wings growing from my spine. But I’ve always been a coward. Instead of being a majestic predator, I spent the last two weeks hiding in a damp, abandoned fallout shelter, purring pathetically as I bossed around smaller mutated strays to scavenge cans of food for me. Half a month later, my brother, Logan Miller, finally found me. I was so ecstatic I almost flipped over to show him my belly for a rub, but then I saw the girl standing behind him. A beast-tamer. The girl’s eyes lit up as she pointed at my little pack of scavengers. “Logan, look! The biocores from these things are exactly what I need to level up my companion.” A stream of text flickered across my neural-link HUD—the “Global Stream” was watching. [Wow! Logan is so whipped. He’s already farming high-level materials for his new girl.] [To make up for his sister’s death, Logan is going to wipe out this entire pack. So badass!] [He has no idea that fat tiger is actually the little sister he lost. LMAO.] My fur stood on end. My tail puffed up like a bottle brush. Logan stared at the pack, his hand tightening on the hilt of his heavy blade. He didn’t recognize me. Not even a little. I stomped my paws in frustration, but all that came out was a pathetic, muffled whimper. “Meow?” Logan’s draw was clean and lethal. The blade caught the setting sun, casting a cold, metallic glint that stung my eyes. I lost all strength in my legs and collapsed into a heap of white fur, my tail twitching in pure terror. Serena, the girl, let out a soft “oh” and ducked behind Logan, clutching his tactical vest with both hands. “Logan! Is it going to attack? It looks so aggressive!” Her voice was a practiced tremor. Logan shifted his weight, shielding her completely. His grip on the sword turned his knuckles white. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you.” I froze. Those four words. When we were kids and I was terrified of thunder, Logan used to tuck me under his oversized hoodie. “Don’t be afraid, Riley. Big brother’s got you.” The exact same tone. But now, it was for someone else. The Feed scrolled by: [Logan is such a man! Protecting Serena like that!] [That white tiger’s core must be worth a fortune! Those wings are a rare mutation!] [LOL look at that fat tiger cowering. Is that really an apex predator? It’s so pathetic.] Logan took a step toward me. Terrified, I tried to scramble back, but my claws slipped on the loose gravel. I ended up flat on my back, legs in the air, wings tangled awkwardly beneath me. Humiliating. Absolute, bottom-tier humiliation. By the time I scrambled upright, Logan’s blade was at my throat. It was ice-cold. I could feel the hum of the energy edge through my fur. I stayed pinned to the ground, my tail-tip the only part of me brave enough to shiver. Logan. It’s me. It’s Riley. I opened my mouth to scream his name, but the only sound that escaped was a low, guttural chuff. Logan’s eyes were dead. To him, I was just another monster to be cleared. Serena peered from behind his shoulder, pointing at the smaller beasts behind me. “Logan, the cores from those little ones alone will jump my pet two tiers!” “Copy that,” Logan nodded. “Once I deal with this one, the rest will be easy.” Deal with this one. He meant me. My brain went numb. I scrambled onto all four paws and bolted. My wings flared instinctively, sending me careening into the air in a jagged, clumsy trajectory. I slammed into a dead oak tree, tumbled, and somehow managed to stay airborne. Behind me, Serena’s voice echoed: “It’s getting away! Logan, those wings are worth a premium!” “It’s getting dark. It’s too dangerous to pursue,” Logan interrupted her. “We’ll track it tomorrow.” The roar of their engine faded into the distance. I dove into the ventilation shaft of my shelter and curled into the darkest corner. I wrapped my wings around myself until I was nothing but a giant, shivering ball of white fluff. The memories of two weeks ago flooded back. The breach, the swarm, Logan trapped in the truck. I had jumped in, barehanded, dragging a mutated wolf off the roof. It was the bravest thing I’d ever done. The price was seven or eight jagged bites. The infection moved too fast. I barely made it to the end of the alley before my legs gave out. When I woke up, I was this. A winged tiger. Sounds cool on paper, right? But I was still Riley Miller—the girl who screamed at cockroaches. Only now, my scream could shatter windows for three blocks. I thought when my brother found me, he’d ruffle the back of my head like he used to. “Riley, you’ve got some nerve,” he’d say. Then he’d scold me while secretly checking for scratches. Instead, he’d put a sword to my throat. He hadn’t even looked me in the eye. I buried my face in my paws and let out a soft, broken moan. The world outside went silent. The engine was gone. I lay there for a long time. Then, I stood up, shook the dust from my wings, and began to follow the scent of the exhaust. I was a terrible flyer. Two weeks as a mutant and I still couldn’t steer. A ten-minute flight for a bird took me over an hour; I hit two power lines and got stuck in a tree for twenty minutes. When I finally caught the glow of their taillights, I perched on the roof of a gutted apartment building. I didn’t dare get close. But I couldn’t leave. The Feed: [What’s the point of following him? He’ll just kill her next time.] [Stalker Tiger confirmed, haha.] [She just wants to be near him… even if he doesn’t know. That’s actually kind of sad.] I rested my chin on my paws, my tail flicking rhythmically. In the camp below, Logan stepped out of the truck. Serena ran up to him and naturally slid her arm through his. Logan didn’t pull away. My tail stopped moving. 2 The next evening, I watched from the rooftop across the street. Serena emerged from the tent carrying a small tin. “Logan! Look what I salvaged from the ruins! Beef stew—your favorite!” She skipped over to him, her eyes crinkling with a rehearsed sweetness. Logan took the tin, the corner of his mouth twitching into a ghost of a smile. “Thanks.” Beef stew. Every year for his birthday, I’d save my allowance to buy him the good stuff. I’d hide a sticky note under the pull-tab: “Happy Birthday, Logan. You get the meat, I get the gravy. No trades!” He’d always laugh and flick my forehead. “Just take the whole damn thing, kid.” Now, someone else was handing it to him. And he was taking it. The Feed: [Serena is so thoughtful! She remembered he likes beef stew!] [Some tigers just hide in caves; some people actually take care of you. The choice is obvious.] I used a claw to peel a long strip of weatherproofing off the roof. I wasn’t angry. I was a rational tiger. He didn’t know it was me. It was fine. While the team rested, Serena pulled out a wet wipe and stood on her tiptoes to clean the dust from the hilt of Logan’s sword. Her movements were fluid, as if she’d done it a hundred times. “Hold still, Logan. There’s a bit of mud right here.” Logan looked down at her, silent and unmoving. Another teammate, a guy named Marcus, looked over. “Serena, do you have to do that every five minutes?” Serena’s smile vanished. Her eyes welled up instantly. “I’m sorry… I just… I hate seeing his gear messy. I know how much his sister used to take care of it.” She took a trembling step back. “I know I’m not Riley. I don’t have the right…” Logan shot Marcus a cold look. “Enough. She’s just trying to help.” Serena lowered her head, her shoulders shaking. But from my vantage point, I saw the flicker of triumph in her eyes before she hid it. The Feed was heartbroken: [Poor Serena! She was just being sweet!] [Marcus needs to mind his own business.] [The way Logan protects her is so dreamy.] I lay flat on the concrete, my claws crushing a piece of loose rebar. Logan had always been like that. If a girl cried in front of him, he turned into a marshmallow. I used to pout just to get him to give me his dessert. Now, that softness belonged to someone else. Night fell. Serena leaned her head on Logan’s shoulder and closed her eyes, curling into his side. Logan looked down at her and draped his tactical jacket over her shoulders. He used to do that to me, too. He’d meet me at the bus stop, and if the wind picked up, he’d shove his jacket over my head. “Riley, are you an idiot? It’s forty degrees out. Put this on.” The same gesture. Now on her shoulders. I watched until the moon was high. Then I stood up and shook my wings. He was cared for. He wasn’t alone. He didn’t need a fat, unrecognizable tiger watching him from the shadows. I turned to fly away. But I didn’t get fifty yards before I stopped. I flew back. Near the entrance of their camp, I quietly dropped something on the pavement. A tin of tuna. It was the last of the “tribute” my little minions had brought me. My last stash. I used a claw to etch two words into the metal lid. The letters were jagged and ugly, like a child’s scrawl. Big Brother. Then, I flapped my wings and disappeared into the night. 3 I told myself I wouldn’t go back. But as soon as the sun went down the next day, I found myself hovering over the camp again. Just one look. Just to see. From my rooftop perch, I scanned the camp entrance. My tuna tin was still there, but it was face down in the dirt. Serena stepped out of the tent, looking refreshed. She spotted the tin. “Ugh, who’s leaving trash everywhere?” She kicked it with the toe of her boot, wrinkling her nose. “Marcus, get rid of this.” Marcus walked over to pick it up just as Logan stepped out of the truck. “What is it?” Logan asked. “Just some dirty old tin,” Serena smiled. “Gross.” Logan glanced at it. “Throw it away.” Marcus tossed the tin into the rubble heap nearby. It rolled a few times, landing face up. The words Big Brother stared up at the empty sky, jagged and desperate. No one saw them. I buried my face in my paws. That tuna had cost my little scavenger a fight with a stray dog. Whatever. It was fine. He couldn’t see the words anyway. Late that night, the camp grew lively. Serena emerged from a tent holding a small velvet box. She ran to Logan. “Logan! Look what I found in the old lockers!” She opened it. It was a ring—delicate, silver, engraved with a tiger-stripe pattern. “I found a sketch of this in Riley’s old journal,” Serena said, her voice dripping with sympathy. “She’d written ‘Logan’s Birthday’ next to it. She never got to give it to you. I thought… maybe I could give it to you in her place.” Logan took it. He was silent for a long time. His thumb traced the engraving, his knuckles pale. “…Thank you.” Serena took the opportunity to lace her arm through his. “I’ll make sure you get a gift every year, for her.” Logan didn’t pull away. The Feed went wild: [Logan must miss his sister so much! Serena is an angel!] [She’s officially taking Riley’s place. It’s for the best.] [A living companion is always better than a dead memory or a stray tiger, haha.] I scratched at the concrete, my heart feeling like it was being shredded. She had gone through my journals. She took the design I’d spent six months picking out. She said the words I never got to say. She spoke with pity, but her eyes were bright with greed. He threw away my tuna. He kept her gift. My gift. I didn’t even have time to be sad. Movement caught my eye at the edge of the camp. Five or six shadows emerged from the sewer grates—silently, like ghosts. They carried modified rifles with suppressors. An ambush. My brain short-circuited. My body moved before I could think. I folded my wings and dropped from the roof like a white comet. I slammed into the ground right between the attackers and the camp gate. “ROAR—!!” The sound wave exploded. Glass shattered for blocks. The shockwave knocked the first two attackers flat. The others panicked, opening fire. Bullets tore through my wings. White fur and blood sprayed the pavement. I shivered with the pain, but I dug my claws into the asphalt and didn’t move an inch. The camp alarm blared. Logan was the first one out. The scene he saw was a massive white tiger standing at his gate, facing the gunmen, her back to his camp. He froze for a split second. The attackers were already scrambling, terrified by the sheer volume of the roar. I turned around. My wings were bleeding, heavy drops splashing onto the street. I looked at Logan. I took one step toward him. “Logan, watch out!!” Serena screamed, grabbing Logan’s arm. “It’s charging! Kill it—!” Logan’s reflex took over. Energy flared in his palm, a blinding white light coiling around his fist. Before he could even process what he was seeing, the blast was unleashed. BOOM—! I was sent flying. I crashed through a brick wall, the impact embedding me in the rubble. My back was a mess of scorched flesh. My white fur was blackened, the smell of burnt hair filling the air. I lay in the hole in the wall. It hurt. He hit me. My brother actually hit me. I tried to tell myself it was logical. He didn’t know it was me. From his perspective, an apex predator was lunging at them. Anyone would have fired. It made sense. But the logic didn’t stop the suffocating weight in my chest. The Feed: [Nice shot! Keep those high-level mutants away!] [Why didn’t he finish it? Those wing-cores are top tier.] [Wait… did anyone else feel like the tiger was… protecting them?] In the distance, Logan hurried Serena into the truck. She clung to his arm, looking up at him and whispering something that made her smile. Logan reached out and patted her head. That gesture. That was mine. Every time I was scared, he’d pat my head to tell me everything was okay. Now, that hand belonged to someone else. I pulled myself out of the wall, dragging my scorched wings. I flew in the opposite direction. I couldn’t keep a straight line. I crashed into a trash heap and didn’t crawl out for a long time. 4 I didn’t show up for the next two days. I hid in an abandoned clock tower, licking my wounds. The burn on my back was weeping, and the charred feathers on my wings crumbled whenever I moved. I looked like a wet, burnt rug. My little scavenger minions found me. They took turns bringing me water and tins of food. I sat on a high wooden beam, five cans of tuna lined up beside me. I tried to eat my feelings. I polished off three cans in one go. My belly was so round I almost rolled off the beam. I let out a loud burp. It didn’t make me feel any better. The Feed flickered: [Serena is giving Logan more of Riley’s things. She’s literally been through every page of that journal.] [Serena said she wants to be the most ‘irreplaceable’ person in Logan’s life. Girl is a climber!] [Logan takes her everywhere now.] I wrapped my wings tighter around myself. Irreplaceable. I used to think I was that, too. Fine. I was moving. I’d go so far away he’d never have to see this “fat tiger” again. On the other side of town, Logan was standing in the alley where the stampede had happened weeks ago. He was shining a flashlight over the dried blood on the pavement. Serena stood behind him, sighing with practiced impatience. “Logan, how many times are we going to come back here? Riley isn’t here. It’s been weeks.” Logan ignored her. He knelt, his light sweeping every inch of the alley. The beam stopped on something in the corner. A small pile of empty tins. Tuna tins. Stacked neatly, padded with a few large dry leaves—a makeshift nest. Logan went rigid. Riley loved tuna. Since she was a kid, our pantry was never without it. He picked up an empty tin, his thumb tracing the jagged claw marks on the side. His brow furrowed. Serena peered over his shoulder and laughed. “Probably just a stray cat. Don’t read into everything, Logan.” “The tin in the ruins,” Logan said suddenly. Serena’s smile faltered. “What?” “The one we threw away the other night.” He stood up, his voice low and dangerous. “Was it a tuna tin?” Serena’s face paled. “I… I didn’t notice…” Logan didn’t say another word. He vaulted over the alley wall and sprinted for the truck. Serena ran after him, her voice hitting a shrill note. “Logan, calm down! Even if it was, it doesn’t prove—” Logan had already started the engine. Serena stood in the dust, her mask of sweetness cracking down the middle. Her nails dug into her palms as she stared at his retreating taillights. Back at the tower, I was getting ready to leave. I picked up my last two tins of tuna in my mouth and unfurled my wings. Suddenly, the door to the clock tower was kicked open. BANG. A flashlight beam hit me square in the face. I froze on the beam. My wings were half-spread, one side missing half its feathers. I had a tin of tuna dangling from my mouth. I looked ridiculous. Logan stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his forehead. His gaze moved from my face to the tuna in my mouth. Then to the massive, jagged burn on my back. The burn he gave me. It was huge, spanning nearly my entire spine. The white fur was gone, leaving only scarred, blackened skin. Logan’s throat hitched. His hands began to shake. His lips moved, but his voice sounded like it was being torn out of him. “…Riley?”
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