The cat followed the metallic scent, her children following behind her. As the sun began to set, the scent grew stronger and as did the sound of birds. She followed the birdsong, her ears swivelling to pinpoint the location of her prey.
It was on the ground and it was chirping.
The cat slowed, her eyes catching sight of movement beside a tree. She crouched down, watching as the bird hopped in and out of view, obscuring itself behind a tree. A glint shined off a strange object nestled in the tree roots. It was irregular and a dirty white, speckled in green. Sparks flew off the object.
The cat lowered her ears and slinked away, waiting for when the bird would leave. She was this close to her food, this close to prey but that spark, that strange smell in the air made her fur stand up on end.
So she will watch and wait.
...
Silver-eyed bird watched the creature's eye flicker into life. She whistled and trilled at it, hoping to hear it do the same, hoping to assure this deep drive hidden deep within.
It didn't respond.
The bird trilled again, nudging at the creature as she would her family. It moved, but it didn't respond and only sparks came from the cracks within its body. She hopped from side to side, watching and waiting.
There were still only sparks, but something else followed. It was subtle at first, feeling more like a change in the air. Then, there was a sound, a high pitched whine. The bird waited, hope and excitement rising in her body.
There was nothing. It stopped, even the sparks and she saw its eye staring into the distance, its glow flickering on and off
Then, something jumped out at her in the bushes and the bird felt something sharp scrape along her back.
...
The camera could only watch as a grey cat launched from the undergrowth, her paw swiping the silver-eyed juvenile. Though the bird managed to get away, the camera could hear it lingering, chirping at the machine.
The cat meanwhile paced back and forth, looking upwards. It would occasionally sit still, look up and jump, yet the bird continued to linger.
It made no sense.
Every time the silver-eyed bird chirped, the cat grew more and more agitated. Something else rustled in the bushes, and two smaller cats - kittens - emerged out of the undergrowth. They sat on the ground, watching their mother jump every now and then.
A feather twired through the air, falling to the ground.
It made no sense.
This chase continued, with the bird flying just out of reach and the sounds of other birds, perhaps the family of the silver-eyed one chittering through the air. From the sounds, they too seemed to refuse to leave, waiting for their child to come back. Some even dived, almost hitting the cat in a blur of black feathers before swooping back up.
More feathers fell to the ground.
It made no sense.
The machine was suddenly reminded of the memory that used to replay through its code. The images and movements superimposed over the present and, every time the woman talked, more feathers would fall to the ground.
"I just hope that, one day, none of you will be stuck in one place, stuck to the past."
The silver-eyed bird, despite the risks, landed, hopping onto the ground. It then flew, its focus switching from the cat to the camera.
YOU ARE READING
Of What Was Left Behind (ONC 2024)
Science FictionIn a ruined world, what traces of humans remain? In an overgrown corner of a once-intact room, nestled in the roots of a young tree, a barely functional camera watches over the decay. Maintenance calls go unanswered, leaving it to conserve power, tu...
