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California State Route 2 cuts straight across the Angeles National Forest. At a certain point along the highway, Henry turned off and drove into the woods. He kept going until the terrain made it impossible for the car to continue; only then did he stop.
Barbara got out with him, set her suitcase on the hood, and picked out only the items useful for camping, stuffing them into a smaller backpack. Dragging a suitcase through the forest obviously wasn't happening, and half of what she brought wouldn't be needed anyway — the extra could stay in Henry's car.
Henry had already organized his gear beforehand, so all he needed to do was shoulder his pack and equipment.
Once everything was ready, he opened the rear door and hauled Katie down. But with Barbara present, he didn't unleash the tiger — the iron-chain leash remained firmly in his hand.
Still, the feel of real soil under her paws, instead of cold concrete, sent Katie into a frenzy of excitement. She paced in loops within the limits of the chain, flopped and rolled on the ground a few times, and would've found a mud puddle to wallow in if given the chance.
But no matter how far she tried to wander, the chain reached its limit — and the Kryptonian holding the other end wasn't budging. Every time the chain went taut, Katie paused, looked back pitifully, then lowered her head and shuffled toward whichever direction slackened the chain again.
A tiger under a roof must bow its head.
Before setting off, Henry did something that Barbara didn't understand. He removed his shoes, tied the laces together, and hung them around his neck.
Seeing her puzzled expression, he smiled.
"In the wild, I like feeling the earth under my feet. So I don't wear shoes."
"Just like Katie then." Barbara laughed sweetly. With that, she mustered her courage, stepped forward, and tried to pet the tiger the way Henry did.
But Katie instinctively leaned back, recoiling. That alone was enough to make Barbara lose her nerve; she froze awkwardly and forced a smile. Quickly she changed the subject:
"Which direction are we headed? Where will we camp?"
"Just keep going. We're looking for a water source. I've never been here before, but according to the map, if we head north for a bit, there should be a small stream. We'll check if it's a good spot."
The Angeles National Forest didn't have city-style road maps. What normal people could buy were basically civilian versions of military topographic maps — contour lines, rough landmarks, streams, sometimes old roads.
The challenge of such maps was pinpointing your current location. Out here, no street names or house numbers existed.
Barbara, as a S.H.I.E.L.D. trainee, had been trained in wilderness navigation. But she didn't want to show off.
Henry, however, wasn't using a map at all — it was an excuse. He heard the nearest flowing water: directly north, a kilometer or two away. With his enhanced senses and ability to fly recon if needed, the concept of "getting lost" didn't exist for him.
But that wasn't something he needed to tell Barbara.
So with all preparations done, Henry locked the car and led them toward the sound of running water.
Katie had left her concrete "cage" before, but only within small safe zones. Whenever she strayed too far, the Kryptonian would whistle her back — and if she didn't obey, he'd physically grab her, lift her off the ground, and carry her back.
Being lifted high into the air with no way to land safely had terrified her at first. She'd peed herself more than once.
But today was different. She rode in the car with wind in her face, then walked freely into the forest. This world felt entirely new, and she was thrilled.
If only the chain weren't there.
North American forests weren't like the Amazon rainforest — no impossible thickets requiring machetes to move forward. Trees spaced apart, undergrowth moderate. For Katie, taken from her mother just after weaning, everything here was novel and fascinating.
Especially compared with Sheep Hollow Canyon — a barren desert of dirt and stone — this place was lively. So many scents, so many creatures.
Katie bounced around, sniffing, hopping, exploring. Sometimes she'd try approaching wildlife — and the reactions were bizarre.
North America had no native tigers. Many animals simply froze and stared at her in curiosity.
But the scent of an apex predator was universal. Even animals that had never seen a tiger instinctively bolted the moment they caught her scent. It was as if the food chain hierarchy had been handwritten into their DNA.
Katie drooped her head, disappointed that none of the "new friends" wanted to play.
To Katie, who never worried about food and had fresh meat delivered to her bowl every day, the hunting instinct was basically a forgotten relic. She saw running creatures and thought of playmates, not food.
But her "play" could kill most creatures. Few beings could survive a friendly tap from a tiger's paw or a nibble from tiger fangs. Henry's core-robot BB had learned this firsthand over many rebuilds.
So while Katie investigated the wilderness at the edge of her leash's radius, Barbara stayed glued to Henry's side, not daring to drift more than half a step away.
Whether she stuck close because she was trying to create romantic tension —
or simply because she was terrified the tiger might break free —
was unclear.
At last, the soft rushing sound of a stream reached Barbara's ears as well, and the forest air cooled noticeably.
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