Cat Out of the Bag

by A L Fogerty

  Cat Out of The Bag

  Mango Mew-Dragon Tamer Book 1

  A.L. Fogerty

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  About the Author

  Also by A.L. Fogerty

  Chapter 1

  “Racers to their marks!” the announcer called through the loudspeakers.

  I revved the engine of my hover bike, glancing at the racers to my left and to my right. Jym Boe was at my right. He’d won the last three races I’d been in, and I was getting sick of losing to the dog-faced pest.

  To my left was Sweeney Como, a perpetual loser and rich kid from up the hill. He hadn’t won a race yet and should have started in the low-level meets, as I had. Instead of paying his dues, he’d attempted to pay off the race officials and every other rider he met. His dad was a local Imperial official, and from what I understood, he was on the up-and-up. Men like that didn’t participate in the game fixing that so often interfered with my life.

  “The race is around the marked track. There are five obstacles. If you are unable to traverse all of them, you are out. No interference with other riders is allowed. If anyone is found to be interfering, they will be disqualified.”

  That rule was just for show. I should know. I’d nearly been run off the track by the likes of Jym Boe more than once.

  “The first to return to the finish line after completing all obstacles is the winner. The race begins at the horn. In five, four, three, two, one—”

  The horn blew, and I squeezed the accelerator on my handlebars, thrusting my speeder into action. I had one of the best machines in the race, hands down, and I knew it. I’d built it from the ground up, using spare parts and every extra credit I’d earned to put it together. It had taken me three years, but my persistence paid off.

  My speeder jumped into an early lead. There were fifteen riders on the track. I recognized most of them from previous meets, but there were a few new faces, and that meant new variables.

  The heat of the desert sun beamed down on me, but the sweat on my brow was cooled by the rush of air in my face. The sun glinted against the track, causing it to shimmer from a mirage. The track narrowed between a ridge up ahead, squeezing the riders on top of each other.

  I pushed my engine, trying to keep my lead as we entered the canyon. Jym Boe was close behind me. I could nearly feel his breath on the back of my neck. I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw his smile through the glass of his helmet. He was always so arrogant. I was sure he believed he would beat me again.

  I flipped the switch on my handlebars, activating the turbo boost I’d just installed. I smiled with wicked glee as I surged ahead of the pack. I glanced behind me at Jym Boe. He clinched his mouth into a tight line, and then he disappeared behind me.

  I laughed to myself, and in my momentary distraction, a rock flew into my hover core and threw my speeder into a spin. I could hear the rush of the engines gaining behind me as my speeder whirled out of control. I pulled my handlebars and tilted my body into the spin, trying to regain control of the machine. My heart slammed under my ribs, and I took a deep breath as the speeder charged toward the ridge. It was coming up so fast. I was only inches from the stone wall when I finally came out of the spin and got control of my bike, just as the pack of speeders zoomed off ahead of me.

  “Dammit,” I bit out, realigning my speeder on the track.

  I had slowed to a standstill and had lost so much ground. I pushed my engine into high gear, trying to make up the distance between me and the other racers. I had already used my turbo boost, and it would take several minutes to recharge.

  I’d had to remove the filter in my hover core in order to install the turbo boost. I’d tested it extensively before the race. Those rocks shouldn’t have been there. It was usually smooth concrete.

  I knew that the configuration of my bike would need readjustment. Pappi had warned me not to remove the filter, but I had assured him it would be no big deal. One point Pappi, Mango zero.

  The riders ahead were reaching the first obstacle, a ramp that went upward then dropped off over a water trap. The jump itself was only five feet across, an easy enough distance to cross at a high enough speed, but I had seen more than a few riders fall off there.

  Jym Boe was at the front of the pack—I could see his number on my dashboard map. I growled at myself for having made such a terrible error.

  Riders flew over the jump one after the next, landing on the other side of the obstacle.

  Sweeney was at the back of the pack and hesitated at the jump, slowing his bike. Instead of propelling over the canyon to the other side, he fell precipitously into the water below with a loud smack.

  I gritted my teeth and pushed my engine, not wanting to join Sweeney. I needed to win the race. The cost of my turbo-boost parts had been half the price of Pappi’s surgery, and I’d promised him I would pay his medical bills and the taxes on the farm back in Sho’kin Forest. I was tired of letting him down.

  I bore down on my accelerator, lowered my head, squared my shoulders, and prepared for the jump. I flew over, glancing down at Sweeney for only a second. He was being helped out of the water trap by multiple race officials. His angry father yelled at him from the sidelines. I focused on the landing, coming down hard on the other side of the ridge. But I held my form and sped toward the other racers. My turbo boost only needed a few more minutes to charge. If I could navigate the next obstacle, I could overtake the rest of the pack.

  Up ahead, the track spread out on an open plain, but it was glistening with a thin sheen of water. Lanes were marked by rope, and within each lane were strategically placed boulders that forced riders around them. The section required most riders to slow their pace or risk crashing. As the pack entered the next obstacle, I pushed my bike as fast as it would go and entered the far-left lane. Jym Boe had entered a lane at the center, a very unfavorable position. It made me wonder why he would choose it. I slowed just slightly, flipping on hydro mode on my hover sensors. I sped into my lane, coming up on the first obstacle, and navigated around it at a high speed, maintaining control of my bike with practiced precision.

  I straightened my trajectory and focused on the next obstacle, leaning into the turn with feline grace. It was a part of the race where I shined. Jym Boe could not outmaneuver me. His strengths were in speed and intimidation. And with my turbo boost, I knew I could beat him.

  I swerved around the corner with impeccable timing. Each obstacle came more quickly as the race wore on. I swerved left and right, the suspension on my bike working overtime. I was coming to the end of the obstacle out of the last turn when I glanced over my shoulder at the other racers. Jym Boe was at least five lengths behind me. I grinned with satisfaction as I straightened and pulled out of the lane into the open road. My turbo boost had completed recharging. No other racers had caught me, and the closest one was at least three lengths behind.

  I
glanced at my turbo-boost button, trying to decide if I should use it or save it for later. I growled and flipped the switch. The road ahead was straight and narrow as the course turned into an oasis in the desert. Huge palm trees grew up around a crystal-blue lake. Birds flew from the blue water that reflected the deep azure sky. My feline instincts yearned to chase the creatures, but I couldn’t play with my food just then—I had a race to win, and I was still in the lead as the track curved around the lake. There were still five more obstacles to go, and I couldn’t get overly confident. That had been my downfall in the last race. And despite what Pappi said, I could learn from my mistakes.

  I glanced at the map on my dashboard and noticed that Jym Boe was gaining on me. I hissed and leaned into the turn, accelerating as the road straightened out past the lake. The course ran through a huge rocky field and contained three more obstacles. The road was wide, but if any rocks were in the road or if I swerved off the pavement, I would lose control of my vehicle completely. Glancing down at my map, I considered my missing hover screen. I couldn’t take any chances. But I also couldn’t let Jym Boe win. He was gaining on me fast. His bike had incredible acceleration, but he couldn’t overtake my turbo boost. I still had several more minutes of recharging left before I could use it again. I didn’t want to let him catch me. I hoped my advantage would be enough.

  I neared the next obstacle, a ring-of-fire jump from a launch pad. It was one of the most dangerous obstacles in the race. There were no spectators so far out on the course. They watched from screens back in the stands.

  I charged up the ramp leading to the ring of fire. The last time I’d gone through the obstacle, I’d singed my ear. Pappi had constructed a helmet that covered them. It was uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as having the hair on my ears singed.

  I ducked low and pulled my bike up close under me as I flew through the ring. I felt the heat all around me for the split second that my body passed through the blaze. I landed on the ramp on the other side then glided down to the level ground.

  I checked my map sensor and saw that Jym Boe was right behind me. His damn bike was so fast. No matter how many scraps I scavenged in the junk heap, I would never be able to save up enough for an engine like that. I’d barely been able to put together the equipment I needed for the turbo boost.

  I needed to win. Pappi’s health was failing, and I was the only one who could help him. I leaned over my handlebars to make myself aerodynamic as I shot over the ground. The next obstacle was coming into view. It was an almost ninety-degree turn in the road, and barriers stood on either side. I could have slowed down and lost my advantage, but I decided to chance slamming into the barriers.

  I pushed hard on my accelerator. My motor propelled me forward toward the turn, and with near perfect timing, I pulled my handlebars, shifted my weight, and made the turn. But it was too sharp, and the inertia pushed me back, sending me directly towards the wall. I overcorrected and sped toward the other wall. Correcting again, I finally got myself straightened out, having lost very little speed. I smiled with satisfaction and checked my map.

  Jym Boe was still three lengths behind me, the other riders were pushing up fast and hard, and my turbo boost still had seven minutes to go. There were two more obstacles in the race, and I was still in the lead. I had a chance of winning. After a four-race losing streak, I was finally getting my chance in the big leagues.

  We were returning to the start of the course, and I could hear the crowd cheering in the distance. The next obstacle was a drop-off onto a narrow platform then another jump down to the ground. I sped up the ramp and angled myself perfectly onto the platform. Jym Boe was right behind me. I tried not to slow down as I balanced my hover bike along the narrow ramp. I came to the end and hopped to the ground while the platform turned me around one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, forcing me to a complete stop. Once the platform stopped, I shot off with Jym Boe right behind me. I glanced at my turbo boost and found that I still had two minutes left. The last obstacle was a loop the loop right in front of the crowd before the finish line. I was still in the lead, and I knew I would win.

  I would pay for Pappi’s medical bills, I would pay off his debts, and we would be one step closer to getting back our farm in Sho’kin Forest. How I missed the sweet breeze through the trees and the thick grass underfoot, such a world away from this desert. My heart ached to go home, and I felt so very close.

  My turbo boost only had thirty seconds left, and I itched to flip the switch. Jym Boe came up right beside me. His big dog eyes glared at me through his helmet lens. He smiled and winked. I growled, and my thumb hovered over the turbo-boost switch. Jym Boe flicked something out from inside a pocket and aimed it right at my hover sensors. I heard the rocks being sucked up into my sensors just before my bike whirled out of control, off the track, and across the gravel-covered ground.

  I was spinning right toward a spiny cactus. I screamed, angling my body and pulling my handlebars. I was wearing a bodysuit, but those thorns would go right through it. The cactus was coming at me faster and faster, and I couldn’t even think about the fact that the other riders were pushing past me. I screamed and pulled myself out of the roll, missing the thorns by less than half an inch.

  By the time I righted myself, I saw Jym Boe flip through the final obstacle and zoom across the finish line. I pushed my hover bike back to the track, mad as hell that he had cheated. I would have had him. I knew that he’d thrown rocks in my sensors, but there was no way I could prove it. On camera, it would only have looked like a flick of his wrist, and I’d seen even more egregious actions be ignored by the judges. I knew that it would be useless to fight. Jym Boe worked for the Landlords, and I was sure that the whole game was rigged.

  As I made my way toward the finish line, I told myself I would never race again. I would sell my bike for parts to get Pappi his surgery, then I would work diligently in the way he always wanted me to and forget my crazy dreams of striking it rich in the stupid races. It was all just a fantasy. When I finally crossed the finish line, Jym Boe was standing on the podium, holding his gold credit prize with the other two winners. He gave me a toothy grin and winked. Anger swelled in my brain.

  I would never give up racing. I would get back at Jym Boe if it was the last thing I did. He would get away with his dirty tricks, so I would have to work harder and find a better way to make my bike the best it could be. I’d won lower-ranked races before, and I would win the highly ranked ones too. And then Pappi would have a reason to be proud of me.

  Chapter 2

  When I walked into our hut, I smelled the scent of cactus, and my nose recoiled. I didn’t want to complain, but we been eating boiled cactus for a week straight.

  “Hello, Mango,” he said, looking over his thick spectacles as he stirred the pot with one hand and held a book I knew he could barely see with the other. “How did the race go?”

  He never went to the races. He wasn’t a fan. He had watched me in my first race, when I crashed and broke my arm, and said he would never come again. I guess I understood why. But deep down, it was a bit disappointing. His whiskers twitched, and my ears turned back. The scent of my failure was on the air.

  “I was in the lead for most of the race,” I said.

  “Were you, now?” He looked back at his book and continued to stir the pot of disgusting cactus sludge. I shivered in revulsion. It wasn’t that Pappi was a bad cook—on the contrary. But no one could make cactus taste any better than what it was.

  “I was so close, Pappi. But that bastard, dog-faced Jym Boe threw—” I stopped midsentence, remembering Pappi’s chiding about removing the hover sensors to install my turbo boost.

  “Someone cheated in the drag races?” He lifted an eyebrow knowingly.

  They said cheating wasn’t allowed, but everyone knew it was—in fact, it was expected. And if one was the Landlords’ flunky like Jym Boe was, they would willingly look the other way. A common trash jockey like me, on the other hand, would never be ab
le to get away with such a thing.

  “It’s time for you to take things seriously, Mango,” Pappi said. “Enough of this dreaming and your get-rich-quick schemes. You’re an excellent mechanic. You should take that job with the Landlords. I still have their letter in my desk.”

  “I wouldn’t work for that scum if you paid me,” I said not realizing the ridiculousness of the statement until it was out of my mouth.

  “But they would pay you, Mango. They would pay you well enough so that you could get out of scavenging in the trash pit for credits. You’d have a stable job. And we would be able to eat something more than cactus soup.”

  “But I would never be able to get us out of here,” I objected, turning away from him and fiddling with some speeder parts on the table.

  “You could still race in your spare time.”

  “You don’t understand what it means to work for the Landlords,” I said in a small voice. “They would own me. They do things, you know, things that aren’t exactly legal with the Imperial Crown. I’ve heard what happens to their employees when they want to quit.”

  “It would be better for us here.”

  “I can’t believe you would want me to work for the same people responsible for taking our farm,” I said, anger growing in my chest.

  “We didn’t have the tax credits to pay. No one is responsible but me. After your mother died—”

  “You did the best you could, and I know they increased your taxes by a thousand percent. There’s no way you could have paid it. It was completely unjust.”