the place had once been called Owasso? Before Mother Nature had opened fire, it had been home to almost forty thousand people, all dead save for a few survivors who’d somehow escaped to Tulsa during the city’s final days.
According to the locals, the final days had been more like thirty-six hours of relentless storms followed up with one hell of a twister, one that’d carved a ten-foot deep gully through the ruins and continuing for ten miles north before petering out.
I’d walked every foot of the tornado’s half-mile wide track and had emerged with a hefty respect for what a twister could do. Some of the trees still stood, their trunks twisted into a tight spiral from the force of the winds. Of those trees, one or two refused to give up the ghost, enduring despite the catastrophic damage done to them.
With the understanding someone sent the storms plaguing Tulsa, I no longer viewed Owasso’s dead as victims of Mother Nature’s wrath, but rather the victims of murder. No, the victims of execution. For what, I wasn’t sure. What could such a small place have done to deserve being wiped off the map?
I doubted I would ever understand why people did such horrible things. Even my scavenging toed lines, but the dead didn’t care, few had inheritors, and even if they did, only people like me were brave and stupid enough to risk death for a pittance.
I would risk death with my trip, but the knowledge would be worth far more than a meal in my belly or a place to sleep.
If my luck held out, I might be able to catch glimpses into the past from the broken ruins and fragmented bones littering the dead city. I expected I would learn only about a more recent storm. Then again, every little bit of knowledge would help.
Years of storms and scavengers testing their luck would complicate my search, but if my magic cooperated and someone had targeted Owasso, too, I would learn the truth.
That alone would make the trip worth my while.
As I did every time I went on a scavenging trip outside of Tulsa, I headed for the rubble of an old shopping center outside of the city limits, checked for anyone following me, and scurried into the general safety of a concrete building determined to flip Mother Nature off for as long as possible. I shifted into a fox, grimaced at the bone-deep ache warning me I needed to use my magic less and rest more.
I disliked the taste of blood, especially when it was mine. Instead of a quick run back to Tulsa as a fox, I’d have to make the hike as a human unless I wanted to push my luck. Without the general safety of my cellar, I’d do the sensible thing for once, and when I did transform back to human, I’d stay that way for a while.
Returning to Tulsa would test my patience, but better to have tested patience than a severe case of dead. Maybe I’d take Sandro up on his offer of shelter in Asylum and catch up on sleep while flirting with disaster. If Anna’s two-day grace panned out, I had enough time to make a foray into Owasso, check on my various cellars throughout the outskirts, and prepare myself for being hunted, even when I accounted for making the hike back as a human rather than a fox.
Leaving the Alley altogether was an option, especially if my magic helped me determine who was behind the storms and why.
If someone outside of the Alley worked to destroy my home, I would take the fight to them one way or another.
It amazed me how a little truth changed everything about my situation.
Rather than the shades of gray that usually dominated my life, I enjoyed the stark black and white I faced. Someone worked to kill my city. I would work to kill them. The reasoning why didn’t matter much to me. A city full of people didn’t deserve to be executed.
Tulsa had enough problems without a mass murderer fucking around with our weather.
Aware Mother Nature would fuck me over if I gave her a chance, I moved like I meant it. A mundane fox traveled no more than five miles in a day, but I ignored their limitations with delight, heading off at a ground-eating lope. Within three hours, I would reach my goal, hungry, thirsty, and annoyed with the world. If my magic cooperated, I could finish my work within