Chapter two- Homeless

By the end of the mock battle, both Coco and Kieran were doubled over and breathing heavily. Coco's hair felt sticky against her head as she brushed her sleeve across her cheek to clear away the sweat. Even after a half hour of constant fighting, neither Kieran nor Coco had been able to gain the upper hand. Coco's ribs were definitely bruised from a kick she'd failed to evade completely, but then Kieran had suffered some injuries of his own. His hands were braced against his knees as he breathed deeply, replenishing his lungs. He grinned.

"Well, at least I haven't gotten any worse. Last time I couldn't even match up against you."

"You're improving." Coco agreed, embarrassed how out of breath she was.

"Maybe next time." Kieran shrugged with a shy smile.

Coco opened her mouth to speak again when all of a sudden she spied a little face half-concealed behind a tree. A bewildered expression came to her face. Kieran must've noticed this reaction, because he turned with a small smile to the hider.

"Come on out Jag. This is the young lady I was telling you about."

Coco was astounded to see a small Anthrian child awkwardly step out into the open, cocking his head to one side in uncertainty. Coco realized with a shock that she had never seen one of her kind so young. Aku had told her that she was the youngest on the island. However, she supposed there was no need to feel surprised. Kieran reached out a reassuring hand to the boy.

"Don't be shy Jag, this is Coco. She sure is a great fighter, isn't she?"

Jag looked at Kieran, and then again at Coco before offering a curt nod. Coco was still completely taken aback at this unexpected introduction that he hardly knew what to say. Jag quickly bounded over to Kieran, and seemed more confident as Kieran placed a hand on his small shoulder.

"Coco, this is Jag. We met a while ago and we've been travelling together ever since."

Coco finally recovered enough to reply. She leaned forward with a gentle smile.

"Hi Jag, it's good to meet you."

Jag didn't return the greeting. In fact, Coco doubted the little boy could speak yet. He was so young. Coco guessed that Jag had evolved from a black panther. His round ears were angled forward as though he was listening for anything amiss and his topaz eyes were moving back and forth rapidly. The boy obviously didn't feel safe despite Kieran's reassurance, but Coco also knew it was nothing to do with her. Jag kept looking to the trees as though he expected some great beast to leap out at any moment. Kieran's eyes were soft as he ruffled Jag's short black hair.

"Come on Jag, let's go take a walk on the beach." He glanced at Coco imploringly. "Would you come with us, Coco?"

Although Coco was still feeling rather unbalanced by this new change of events, there were many questions she wanted to ask. She smiled and tucked some of her escaped strands of hair behind her ear.

"Sure, let's go."

Jag had run off in front of the two strolling friends, fascinated by the waves rolling in and out across the sand. Both walked in silence for the most part, when Coco finally decided to speak.

"So, when did you meet him?"

Kieran regarded her with a small smile. "A little over two weeks ago. I rescued him from a predator, which is why he trusts me enough to keep me company once and a while. He's very young, but he's extremely self-reliant."

This knowledge was not so much fascinating as it was disturbing. If Jag was living out in the jungle on his own, how many more younglings were out there? Coco had never considered the possibility that children might have evolved from the contamination, but it stood to reason that they did. Just because she'd never seen them before didn't mean it wasn't true. Coco didn't turn to face Kieran when she spoke, instead, she focused on little Jag as he played in the waves.

"Kieran, do you think there are other children like Jag without homes?"

Kieran shrugged.

"I don't know. Jag comes and goes when he pleases, and any time I ever ask him about others like him he clams up."

"He talks then?"

"Sparingly, only when he has something important to say or ask. But he's an incredible listener. He seems to remember everything he hears. It's quite extraordinary."

Coco tapped her chin with a finger. If there were other children like Jag out there without the comfort of a family, she wanted to find them. She glanced at Kieran.

"How much longer were you thinking of staying on this part of the island?"

Coco wasn't sure, but she thought she could see Kieran blush a little.

"Right now I don't have anything pressing to attend to. I guess I thought I'd stay here for a while."

Coco grinned. "Good. I want to see about this situation, and I know my lazy brother will be of little help if I ask him. How would you and Jag like to stay with us?"

At this, Kieran hesitated. "Like I said, Jag comes and goes whenever it suits him. As for me, I don't want to impose. Your home is probably filled right now what with Crunch and Tawna staying with you."

Coco forgot she told Kieran about Tawna. It wasn't a big secret, but it just reminded her how much she and Kieran had been talking as of late. Did she mention the pregnancy? She couldn't remember. She offered a soft smile.

"Fair enough. But would you be interested in searching around the island with me? I'll ask Aku as well, and see if he knows anything about it."

"Sure." Kieran said almost too eagerly. "I'd be happy to help."

Silence settled between them for a moment, and Coco felt a warmness rise up her neck. Kieran was looking at the ocean, but she noticed with some flattery that his eyes kept flicking toward her. Coco brushed some stray strands of hair out of her face as she glanced at Jag, watching with a little smile as he dug through the sand in search of seashells.

Visions plagued her. Visions she could not understand or control. Were they memories, or simply nightmares she manifested without concrete evidence to support them? Isabella Bandicoot propped her arm against her folded leg, rubbing her forefinger and thumb together complacently as she stared out over the setting vista. Her blue eyes were intense as she stared blankly through the majestic view, but her mind was utterly focused within. She spent many evenings deliberating over the visions and terrible nightmares that occurred every morning while she slept.

Isabella had virtually no memories that she could count on to be true. Her past was nothing but a lucid combination of pictures flashing across her mind like a scratched recording. Her horrifically real dreams merged together with these fragments of memories, churning them together into one, undistinguishable whirl. If she was ever going to find peace, she would need to sort these visions into what were actual memories, and what were simply manifestations of her own fears and suspicions. She would need to fight this.

Isabella growled low in her throat and swiftly dropped from her perch to the ground. She stood up, and inhaled deeply. She suddenly found herself glancing in a direction she frequently sought out, and she felt a resentful pang of anger flicker within her. Before she could even consider the reason she continued to look toward the dwelling of Crash Bandicoot she briskly turned and marched toward the direction of the jungle. Her alliance with those naïve creatures was at an end now, and there was no reason to continue reminiscing about the past. Isabella was a strong enough woman to realize that although she enjoyed being in the company of that ridiculous bandicoot, she didn't need their aid any longer. Cortex had been thwarted and the planet decimating device was in a safer position now. Now that those thorns in her side had been removed, she had quickly returned to her former quest. To discover who she was.

Isabella lifted her chin and allowed the sunlight to warm her face. She brushed her thick blond hair to one side as her thoughts began to wane once again. Isabella was not one to openly admit her fears or ambitions, but in the privacy of her own mind it was an entirely different matter. Isabella frequently thought back to her furthest memory, trying to make sense of her strange and distorted origin. As of yet she still hadn't any idea where she came from or how she became what she was. What she did know with a great deal of certainty was she needed to find answers. It was not only the lack of knowledge of who she was that bothered her. She was quite sure she could exist quite happily without a memory of her past. The reason she delved so deeply into her memory was on account of a much more serious matter. She was suffering from a nameless infection that was slowly destroying her. She figured that if she could remember where she came from she could discover some kind of antidote. However, that was going to be a lengthy mission in itself. Isabella had no recollection of her life before it happened.

When Isabella looked back into her memory, she saw only fragments of visions as though they belonged to someone else. They were all distant and insubstantial, flickering with the reliability of a passing dream. As Isabella pondered she glanced at her hand. Orange fur and sharp black nails indicated that hand should have belonged to an animal, and yet her five slender fingers indicated that hand was very much human. She absently wondered whether any of the other complacent mutants she'd seen during the alien threat wondered about their own transformations. She doubted they did. After all, that bandicoot she'd met didn't seem to be bothered by it. Isabella's gaze traveled up her arm and lingered upon a slight gash that was nearly healed. To her annoyance she knew the cut would scar, but she wasn't particularly concerned by it. She had countless others that she, unsurprisingly, could not match to any instances in her memory. At least she knew where this one came from.

Just following the Oxide affair Isabella had existed quite satisfyingly. She traveled across the island, honing her hunting skills and living a truly nomadic lifestyle. She did not have a specific home to return to, but she never had any desire to create one. Moving from place to place just seemed natural to her. It was during this time that a very strange instance arose. Isabella had been strolling through the jungle one early morning when she sensed she was being tracked. Although she was unsure exactly how she developed her instincts, they had proved to be very useful, especially in dire situations. It was simple work for Isabella to lure her inept tracker into the open, and was not at all surprised when she was met with aggression. Her attacker was a strange creature she had never seen before, but she fought with a style Isabella found oddly familiar. The creature was a female Anthrian tiger with an impressively strong physique and wicked tongue. Whoever the creature was, she knew Isabella. Unfortunately Isabella had not been able to question the female. The battle ended far too quickly for that. However, this occurrence convinced Isabella she possessed a past that she had no recollection of. Since that day, a year had progressed and still Isabella had no idea of who she was or where she came from.

The disease was a different matter entirely. She had known about the sickness even when she recalled her furthest memory. It occurred sporadically in the early years, but it soon transpired into a more frequent condition that was growing steadily worse. It had grown so bad that it needed to be dealt with as quickly as possible. And she would find a cure, of that she was certain. It was only a question of when. Isabella was not a woman to allow anything get the better of her. As Isabella continued down her current path, she felt a low rumbling in the pit of her stomach. She'd neglected to eat again. Oh well, she was due for a hunt. Isabella started for the deeper sections of the jungle, wondering absently why despite her herbivore ancestry she possessed such an innate craving for meat.