Eli took hold of Matakh’s arm, and the lion felt a rush of energy course through him, as well as a flash of pain. He saw the white world around him darken until the only light came from Eli’s eyes. “Wake up…” he heard the Guardian whisper, “and be strong in the Lord.” Then even the light from the seraph’s eyes vanished.
Matakh awoke with a jolt, only to groan as the pain from before sharpened into a splitting headache and aching torso. Fighting the pounding in his skull, he managed to force his eyes open. He was met with the sight of the basement ceiling, or at least what remained of it. Large portions of it had collapsed and left gaping holes in their wake, and piles of debris on the ground. Judging by the expanse above him, he guessed that one such heap was now pinning him down. He reached a hand up to his throbbing head to find that his fur had been matted down by something. When he examined his palm it was streaked with muddy red, which he realized was dried blood. “Must have been from the beam that hit me,” he reasoned.
The beam! Suddenly it all came rushing back; his mother rousing him from one nightmare into another, the sounds of the air raid, his father shoving him down the basement stairs, and the blast that seemed to shatter the entire universe around him. Worst of all, he remembered seeing the door to the basement slam closed, with his parents on the other side.
He began panting heavily, his hands struggling to push away the rubble that covered him. A beam fell away, and then a clump of wires. He was just preparing to shove a chunk of tiling when he heard a soft, feminine moan from nearby. He suddenly remembered that he had not been alone in the basement when the bomb had hit. “Meea?” he rasped out, his throat bone-dry and raw. He coughed a few times to clear his lungs before trying again. “Is that you, sis?”
“Matakh?” His sister sounded just as sore and parched as he did, but at least she was alive.
“Are you all right?” he asked worriedly.
“I… I think so,” she told him, and he saw a section of rubble to his left shift as her head poked free. Even in the dim light of the basement, her blonde hair looked dull and filthy. “How about you?”
“Eh.” He pushed away a piece of metal rebar. “My head’s killing me, but I think I’m okay.”
“What about Mom and Dad?” Meea asked. “Any sign of them?”
Matakh felt a cold pit settle in his stomach. He realized that Meea still hadn’t grasped the truth, and he was unsure of how to answer her question. Unfortunately his silence spoke volumes, and he heard her breathing quicken, a soft whimper rising from her chest. “No…” she said softly. “No… No they can’t be… They can’t have…”
A cry of anguish tore from her lips, and a loud clattering resounded as the lioness started shoving chunks of rubble in an effort to free herself. Matakh felt his heart break as he heard his sister’s sobs, tears streaming from his eyes and trailing down his cheeks. But his urge to comfort her gave him a new strength, and with a growl he heaved the remaining beams off of his body before shakily getting to his feet. He saw Meea pushing desperately at a wooden crossbar that had pinned her legs, her face a tortured mask of despair and the fur below her eyes already soaked with bitter tears.
Matakh made his way over to his sister’s side and grasped the planks over her ankles. Bracing his arms, he heaved against the rubble, feeling it resist him for a few moments before giving way. “Now,” he gasped down to her, and she quickly scooted out from under the heap. No sooner was she free than she tried to stand and race for the door. But the weight of her anguish was too much; her legs failed her, and she tumbled to the floor once again, her heartbroken cries filling the space. The sound made Matakh’s blood run cold, and his grip on the beam slipped. The wood slipped free, the section of rubble it had supported crumbling after it.
“Meea,” he whispered, crawling over to her side and wrapping her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
“It can’t be,” she choked out. “It’s not possible… This is a nightmare, it has to be.” She pinched herself on the arm, and when nothing changed around her she tried a hard slap. “I want to wake up,” she whimpered. “I want to wake up, Matakh.” She looked up at him, her eyes clouded by tears.
That did it. Matakh couldn’t control himself any longer. The sight of his sister’s face so tortured was more than he could bear. “I’m sorry, Meea,” he bawled, holding her close as he felt her begin to sob again. “I can’t. It’s not a dream. They’re… gone.” He choked on the last word as a wave of nausea rose up in him.
For a long while they just lay there together in the ruins of the basement, clutching tightly to one another as their tears soaked the floor beneath them. Their spirits were broken, their hearts destroyed, the weight of their grief like that of a thousand worlds on their souls. They felt broken, defeated, shattered; everything that they had ever known now lay heaped about them in ruin, and the most important people in their lives were gone forever.
Finally, Meea’s sobs quieted to whimpers as she held tightly to her brother. His own died away soon after, and the two siblings looked into one another’s eyes with silent thanks. Matakh reached a hand out to brush the dust away from Meea’s face, and he felt a gentle touch against his own cheek as she returned the gesture. It wasn’t much, but any amount of comfort was welcome relief to their tortured souls.
“Should we try to get out?” Meea asked him, her voice breaking.
Matakh nodded. “Yeah. We have to check on the house, see how much of it was damaged. Maybe we can still salvage some of our things.” He got to his feet and held out his hand, which Meea gladly took. Together, they made their way through the ruins of their basement, wary of sharp pieces of metal and broken glass. “We were lucky,” he told her. “We could’ve been crushed by all of this junk.”
“You’re right, I guess.” She sighed. “But Mom…”
Matakh lightly tapped her muzzle to shush her. “Don’t think about it. Let’s just worry about getting out of here.” Meea nodded once more, sniffling a little but otherwise remaining silent.
They suddenly heard a faint scampering from overhead, as if something or someone was moving around on the floor above them. For a moment they felt hope rise in their hearts. “Mom?” Meea called. “Dad? Is that you?”
There was no response; even the faint sound of activity had grown still. The lioness’s ears drooped. “Probably just an animal”
Matakh gently stroked her head, feeling his own hope die with his sister’s. “Most likely.”
They took another few steps towards the door, but started when they saw it swing open on its own, admitting a stream of light. The siblings raised their arms to shield their unprepared eyes from the glare. When they could finally see again, they looked up towards the door, hoping to see someone standing in the opening, but there was no sign of anybody.
“What…” Meea stuttered. “How did that happen?”
“I’m not sure,” Matakh admitted. “But we’re going to find out. Come on.” He made for the stairs, but Meea stepped back a bit. He turned to look at her and noticed that her face had become clouded with apprehension.
“You go first,” she said softly.
Understanding her hesitation, Matakh smiled kindly and nodded before starting up the steps. Looking up, the door suddenly seemed much farther away, as if it drew back with every step he took. “That type of thinking won’t help,” he scolded himself, taking another step upwards. The wood creaked in protest, and for a moment, he feared that it would break, but the stairs held steady underneath him. Every subsequent step sent up another creak, each one seeming louder than the last until he was sure the entire staircase would give. When at last he reached the top, he heaved a sigh of relief and stumbled out through the doorway, into the ruins of what had been his home.
As