While some chose to vanish and deal with their new reality, Phoenix wanted answers, such as, could the shift be controlled? Because, thus far, it only occurred when he went through bodily trauma. Did anything exist that would make his tiger go away permanently? Was it contagious? He’d hate to sleep with someone and cause them harm. While he always practised safe sex, he knew the women who’d escaped worried about pregnancy and what it would do to a baby.
According to the internet, werecats could be found on almost all the continents, with tigers specifically mentioned as being present in Asia and India. So why had he zoned in on Malaysia specifically? Because of a video that he stumbled on by accident. The short clip meant to showcase two young girls displaying their dance moves in a park ended up going viral because of what happened in the background. A lone man walking by on the sidewalk was struck by a speeding motorcycle. The fellow got hit hard enough he flew into the air, flipped, and landed on his head.
Folks ran to check on him, including the person holding the phone recording. It led to some shaky footage that showed people suddenly scattering from the body on the ground. Only there was no body, just a tiger. A tiger that looked right at the camera before lunging for it.
Viewers, of course, claimed it was a hoax, but Phoenix knew better. That man was a therianthrope, and Phoenix needed to find him. Hence why he paid a guy to smuggle him aboard afreighter. Why he'd been pissing in a bucket if he couldn’t hold it until his nightly jaunts. Why he’d been filching food from the galley.
As to how he’d find the fellow? No idea, but once in Malaysia, hopefully he’d be able to track the guy in the video. After all, it turned out therianthropes couldn’t entirely hide their scent, even when in human shape. Phoenix had smelled his companions often and catalogued the differences for future reference. If he ran across another feline, he’d know.
The day before the freighter was due to dock, a storm hit, one big enough to make the container ship rock.
Left.
Right.
Left…
Up until this point, Phoenix had done fairly well keeping nausea at bay. That ended once the ocean started seriously rolling. He sat with his head between his knees, doing his best to take measured and controlled breaths, hoping to settle his belly.
And failed.
Blergh.
He heartily spewed into his piss bucket, which did nothing to settle his stomach. As a matter of fact, the stench of his own vomit made it worse.
I need air.Lots of it. If this were night, not a problem, but his watch indicated it was mid-afternoon, which meant most of the crew would be awake and working. However, given the pelting rain, tilting deck, and crackling lightning, most of them would be taking cover and not on deck. Doubtful anyone would notice if he cracked open the door to his box—a door that appeared secured from the outside but could be unlocked from within. It was part of the reason Phoenix paid such a large sum to the shady smuggler he’d located in that dingy bar close to the port in British Columbia.
Before doing anything, Phoenix plastered his ear to the door and took a listen. Whistling wind. Pelting rain. Crash of thunder. The hum of the ship’s motor. Quite honestly, an army could have stood outside and he most likely wouldn’t have heard them.
Lurch. The boat went sideways, and so did his stomach. Gulping hard, Phoenix wrenched open the container’s door a few inches and gulped the moist air with relief. The pelting storm felt good against his skin, even as it soaked his clothes.
The rocking ship tilted, and the metal panel wrenched from his grip and swung wide open, letting in a drenching sheet of rain. When the freighter suddenly angled in the opposite direction, the door slammed shut, almost smashing his fingers, but more concerning? The clanging noise it made.
The storm-tossed vessel shifted again before Phoenix could grab hold of the door. It swung wide open and smacked loudly against the container beside it. Fuck.
Hopefully, no one heard. Phoenix braced his feet and held on to the still-locked panel as he leaned out to try and grab the flapping one. Just as his fingers touched metal, the ship veered, sending him off balance, but he managed to remain upright. The bucket of puke didn’t.
It fell over, and the floor of the container got grossly slick. Phoenix could do nothing to avoid it. His ick-covered feet slid, wrenching him hard, causing him to lose his grip. He fell—into the vomit, to which he added even more. In the midst of his retching, the ship slightly changed course, hitting a wave head-on and causing the vessel to rise and tilt in such a way that Phoenix slid right into his bedding, covering it in puke. When the ship crested the wave and began its descent down its valley, his slippery body could find no purchase, and whoops, he ended up sliding right out the open door.
Wham. He hit the deck hard enough he saw stars. Rather than immediately move, he lay there while the pouring rain sluiced the mess from his body.
He waited too long.
“Saya mendengar sesuatu!” The shout, in a language Phoenix didn’t know, had him wondering if he’d been spotted. Doubtful, but he really shouldn’t remain in plain sight. However, returning to his puke-covered box wasn’t an option. He needed a new hiding spot. Since the rocking ship would make walking hard, he crawled to the end of the row of containers and peeked around the corner. No one in sight.
The ship tilted, and he lost his footing on the slick deck. The angle of the ship had him sliding, and he hit the rail hard, but even worse, his body kept going. Only his quick thinking and grabbing of the bar kept him from falling into the roiling ocean. Unfortunately, as he hauled himself back on board, a sailor came into view and immediately pointed with a shout.
Phoenix cursed under his breath as he scrambled to his feet and ran back in the direction he’d come, only to realize the stern of the ship provided no adequate cover. A glance around the other side of the containers showed more sailors moving in his direction. He peeked upwards at the towering containers. If he climbed, they’d spot him for sure.
Fuck and fuck again. With the sailors closing in on his location, Phoenix didn’t have much time to figure out his next move. His choices were limited.
Jump overboard? He’d die.
Surrender? The captain would either dump him into the ocean or hand him over to the port authorities.
Even if Phoenix managed to evade the crew until they docked, the captain would most likely notify local police, who would swarm the ship looking for a stowaway. If caught, he’d end up in prison, which wouldn’t do at all.
What to do? How could he ensure he made it off the ship intact?
