“I know who you are.” She yawned a huge, tooth-filled yawn.
Taking a deep breath, Orie prepared for the worse. “Look, I don’t normally talk to dogs . . .” He stopped. That wasn’t good—too confrontational. He decided to try again with a friendlier, more down-home approach. “Hey, neighbor, there’s something I’d like to share—”
“What is it?” Tenba interrupted. She looked irritable— big and irritable.
“I am special. I was saved for great things,” Orie chanted.
Tenba’s lip trembled in a silent snarl. “I don’t like it when you do that.”
The lizard stopped, gave a friendly smile, and pictured the dog dead. It was a recurring fantasy he had with all potential predators, and it felt very soothing. Savoring the vision for another moment, he shook his head, then nodded graciously. “You’re absolutely right. Anyone can see you’re a no-nonsense gal, and I’ll get right to the point. So here it is.” He leaned forward. “I’ve had a dream. Sort of.”
“A dream?”
“Yes, well, sort of a dream, only it’s more like a feeling of . . . well . . . sounds.”
The canine blinked.
“You know those cats, the ones Buddy’s looking for? Well, I think they’re in trouble.”
“How do you know that?”
The lizard shifted uncomfortably. “How?”
“Yes, how?”
“Well, because I heard a thing in my head, of a cat in trouble, like a scream. Only it wasn’t.”
The dog stared.
Orie shut his eyes. Here was the part he’d been waiting for. She didn’t believe him, thought he was nuts but edible, and was now preparing to kill him. His mind drifted to the corpse picture—rotting dog, one of his favorites.
“I believe you.”
Orie opened his eyes. “Huh?” “I said, ‘I believe you.’”
“You do?” The near-death thing was getting old, and the lizard felt cranky and drained. “Well, good, because I’m telling you it hasn’t been all that great with this voice thing and all . . .” He trailed off, coughed self-consciously, and scratched his head. “So, anyway, that’s what I wanted to tell you. Good-bye.”
“Stop.”
He froze, clawed foot extended.
“Something’s going on,” the shepherd said, struggling to her feet. “This is more than just cats being in trouble. This involves other species, and it’s important. I felt it from the minute Buddy came into the yard.” She stretched each back leg carefully. “We need to find them.”
Orie leaped forward. “Where do you get this ‘we’ stuff? I’ve done my bit, I’m through!”
“But you’re the one with the instructions.”
“So?” Orie felt tired and hungry and wanted to leave.
“Then I’ll need your help.”
“For what?” he shrieked. “I’m three inches long, I don’t have a tail, and I really haven’t been feeling all that well. Trust me, you can do this alone!”
“But don’t you see?” the dog persisted, moving closer. “Whatever this thing is, it’s chosen you. You’re the one with the information.” She cocked her head, milky eyes intense. “Danger and desperation create powerful scents and sounds, and it looks like Mother has spread them farther than usual. I think you’re hearing collective chatter from quite a few species who’re trying to stop something bad from happening.”
“Well, tell them to knock it off!” Orie exploded. “I’ve already tried the ‘good deed’ bit and, frankly, it was disappointing.”
Tenba watched patiently. “I don’t think you have a choice. I’ve only heard of this happening in rare cases, usually natural disasters, but I’d say something big is at stake if Mother has interfered. And besides” she tilted her head “you arespecial, right?”
Orie gaped in wonderment. Of course! Why hadn’t he seen it before? It was Mother who had saved his life! Out of all the creatures in the world, She had chosen him! He scowled. But to help cats? It didn’t matter. He was the key to salvation, the light in the tunnel, and possibly the most enlightened lizard in the universe! Orie allowed himself the teeniest squeal of excitement. Perhaps he’d become a famous evangelist, traveling the back roads, giving inspirational talks to the poor. He frowned. No, he’d never liked the poor; anyway, whatever his mission was, it should be more far reaching than that. He brightened. Global, with a lot of publicity— maybe even a tabernacle!
He turned to Tenba, his throat puffed with importance. “Of course I’ll help,” he said, his voice suddenly warm and paternal. “It’s my calling, my destiny, my—”
“Good,” the shepherd interrupted, kneeling in the grass. “Hop on.”
A hollow feeling gripped Orie’s stomach, and he staggered back. “What?”
“Time is important. Once I’m over the fence, I’m going to be moving fast.” She paused. “And your legs are really . . . short.”
Orie blinked in the morning sunshine, hoping he’d misunderstood. “You mean actually . . . on . . . you?”
“Yes. Hurry up; my knees are killing me.”
“You know,” he stalled, suddenly wishing he were back in the crawl space. “I probably should’ve double-checked my appointments before committing to anything . . .”
Do it! the voice screamed in his brain.
Filled with misgivings, the lizard touched Tenba’s leg, took a shuddering breath, and scrambled over her shoulder, up her neck, and onto the surprisingly silky fur on her head. The dog lurched onto all fours and coughed.
“Stop!” Orie shouted, tilting to the side and clutching her ear for balance.
“Sorry. Are you okay up there?”
Though hard to believe, he was. In fact it was thrilling to see the world from such a unique perspective. “Of course, I’m okay,” he said in his haughtiest voice. “I’ve done this millions of times.”
“Then hold on.” With a grunt the dog leaped out of the yard, landing with a thud in the weeds. “We’ll take alleys and backstreets as much as possible. I don’t want to be reported as a stray.”
Orie almost screamed with exhilaration as Tenba moved briskly toward the street.If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times, he thought, relaxing in her soft ruff and tilting his face toward the sun:I am definitely special and saved for great, great things.
It was morning at Animal Control, and the big man yawned as he opened the door to his office. Muffled barking drifted from the kennels, and fluorescent lights flickered on above the dispatcher’s desk. Picking up a clipboard, the man thumbed through some papers. “When did this come in?”
The dispatcher shrugged her thick shoulders. “What? The thing about the raccoon?”
“Yeah.”
She frowned and thumped the paper. “It says right here, 8:00 a.m.”
The man squinted, holding the report toward the light. “I can’t read it.”
“For heaven’s sake, Curt, wake up!” Snatching it from his hands, the woman grabbed her glasses, skimming each word with a fat finger. “A guy says he killed what looked like a rabid coon last night. He dropped it off this morning, and it’s in the freezer. Says it treed two cats, one yellow and a Siamese with some kind of shiny collar. They’ve probably been infected, we should look for them . . . and there’s the address.” She dropped it in his lap. “Plain as day.”
Curt scratched his jaw and said nothing.
“Also, we had another call about the chow mix that’s killing dogs in that same area, so it looks like you’re going to be in Ryan Addition for awhile.” She leaned back in the chair, her massive weight almost tipping it over, and grinned. “By the way, Judy’s scheduled to ride with you today.”
“Aw, man!” He banged the desk. “No wonder I can’t get anything done! She doesn’t do one freakin’ thing but mess with the mirror and fool with that rat’s nest she calls hair.” He peered through the window, shielding his eyes from the glare.
A blonde woman dressed in Animal Control khakis lounged against a truck. A rat-tailed
comb protruded from her hand as she probed her mile-high hairdo even higher.
“I’d worry less about her and more about your job,” the dispatcher sneered. “A reporter from the Fort Worth Star has already called asking about the chow thing this morning. People are wondering why we haven’t found it yet. Better hope it doesn’t hurt a kid, or—”
“Don’t sweat it,” Curt interrupted angrily. “I’ll find him, and the cats . . . and, guess what? I don’t care if they’re rabid or not. We’ll kill ’emall and save the city from a horrible epidemic.” He belched with satisfaction. “Let the papers runthat!”
S I X T E E N
Someone was in the shed. Buddy heard footsteps shuffling in the back of the building and the clatter of tools being knocked from shelves. He had no idea how long they’d been asleep beneath the lawn mower. Sun beat relentlessly through the open doorway, and the shed was hot and stuffy.
Feet clad in dirty tennis shoes passed by, and Shan Dara shrank back, body tense with terror.
“Where in the heck did I put that insecticide?” a man’s voice mumbled as he rummaged somewhere above them. “I can’t remember where I put anything anymore.”
“Sam?” a woman called from the main house.
“I can’t find it!” the man boomed, galumphing out the door. “I swear to God, Marie, can’t you remember where you put anything anymore?”
A door slammed shut, and the two cats crept slowly from their hiding place and stood in the dusty silence.
“Is he gone?” Shan Dara asked, her eyes wide.
Buddy peered through the open doorway. “I think so.”
A cat mewled in the distance, and their heads jerked up, nostrils testing the parched air for scents.
“Where did that come from?” Shan Dara whispered.
The two cats crept outside the shed and looked around.
“From next door in that old house,” Buddy said.
Slinking closer, they peeked through the tangle of bushes separating the two properties.
“Does anyone live there?” the Siamese asked.
As if in answer, the screen door squeaked open and an old woman, holding a black cat, shuffled onto the porch. With great tenderness she placed the animal in a rocker, carefully adjusted its bandaged hind leg, and went inside.
“I’m going to get a better look,” Buddy said. “Stay here.” Crouching close to the ground, he slunk to the steps.
Simultaneously the black cat caught their scent and pulled itself into a sitting position.
“Who is it? Go away!”
“I’m not going to hurt you.” Buddy stretched one paw toward the animal who struggled to jump from the chair. “I mean it, I’m not.”
Twisting its head, the animal peered through the back slats of the rocker. “You can’t stay; you’ve got to go.” He looked with panic at the screen door. “I’m the only one here. She doesn’t want any other cats. She only wants me.”
Buddy studied the creature for a moment—dull fur, starvation, an injury. He knew the signs. “You’re a Feral, aren’t you?” he said softly.
“No! I’m not!” the cat shouted, trying to stand. “I belong to the woman. I’m an Indoor! Ask anyone!” The rocker tipped backward, and the cat fell heavily against one of the armrests. “Please go away. I found her first. She’s mine.”
Buddy jumped onto the porch. There was something about the cat’s scent, something familiar. “It’s okay, I know she’s yours. I have a boy of my own.” He stopped, grief and homesickness bobbing to the surface. “I mean . . . I lived with a family.”
“Oh.” The cat gave a knowing nod. “They dumped you out here?”
“No.” Buddy glanced away. “It’s a long story, but I’m not looking for a home. What’s your name?”
“Soot.” The cat’s injured leg flopped awkwardly to the side. Flinching in pain, he shifted his position.
“How did that happen?”
“I was hit by a car. The old woman saved me.”
“You’re very lucky.” Buddy inched toward the rocker. “Anyone can see the woman loves you—”
“Yes, she does,” Soot interrupted. “She carries me everywhere, and we sleep together and . . .”
Buddy gently placed his paw on the back of the chair. “Believe me. You’re safe now. It’s okay.”
A car honked in the distance, and they both jumped at the sound.
The black cat blinked. “I wasn’t lying. I am an Indoor. I’ve been one for a whole day now.”
He dipped his head shyly, and the gesture pricked Buddy’s subconscious—something buried deep and long ago. “Congratulations on finding a home. I’m feral, too. Or, I was.” Thoughts of the little house on Sixth Avenue, bright with love and safety, pulled at his heart, and he willed them away. “I’m wondering if you’ve seen some friends of mine. A calico and a white, long-haired male.”
Soot started. “I saw them yesterday. They’re traveling with a tom called—”
“Jett,” Buddy interjected. “Where are they?”
The cat seemed confused. “I don’t remember exactly what happened before I was hit by the car. No, wait a minute! We were running from some boys, and Pris was afraid to follow Jett across the highway.”
“Highway?” Buddy leaned closer, ears alert. “Where?”
“Straight through the alley. There were cars coming, and Jett was yelling for her to follow him, but she just stood there. So I pushed her, and she ran, and—” His voice wavered, and he sighed with fatigue. “Then I was hit.”
“What about the white cat?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he was with us. We were trying to find food, and then the boys came.” He dipped his head. “That’s all I remember.”
Buddy caught his breath. There was something about that gesture, that turn of the head. A bittersweet memory bobbed to the surface.
The air was crisp with fall, and he was a kitten, tumbling through piles of soft red leaves with a beautiful little tortoiseshell. She was gentle and sweet, and he was careful not to play rough because he wanted her to like him. They romped for hours in the fragrant foliage before he finally found the courage to ask her name. She dipped her head in that same shy way. “My name is . . .”
“Ahn-ya,” he whispered, jolted back to the present. When was the last time he’d seen her? How long had he been gone?
“What did you say?” the cat asked, startled.
Buddy walked to the front of the rocker and stared. “You’re Ahn-ya’s offspring, aren’t you?”
Soot blinked in surprise. “How did you know?” “I’m not sure. Little gestures I can’t explain. I—I knew her once. Long ago.” He took a deep breath, dreading the next question but compelled to ask. “Where is she . . . now?”
“Probably dead.” Soot sighed. “The last time I saw her she was pretty sick.”
Scents of baking cornbread wafted from the house, and puffy clouds lazed across the sun.
“What about the rest of your litter?”
“A chow got one, two were hit by cars, kids trapped the other. I’m the only one left.”
Buddy stared into the sudden gloom, blinded by visions he’d never seen.
Bees dipped and buzzed amid the trumpet vines, and the cats sat in strained silence.
“So . . . are you headed to The Gathering?” Soot finally blurted. “I thought maybe I’d get to go, but it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to.”
“Yes.” Buddy remembered the vision of Ahn-ya by the pool and shook himself back to the present. “That’s exactly where I’m headed.” He considered asking about the old Cat Master’s successor but was too ashamed to admit that he didn’t already know. Wearily he rose on hind legs and touched the black cat’s nose with his own. “I’ve got to go. I’m traveling with a friend, and she’s waiting for me. Keep well. I’m happy for you.” Jumping from the porch, he headed for Shan Dara’s hiding place.
“Wait a minute!” the black cat shouted. “Who are you?”
The yellow tom s
topped and turned. “Buddy.”
Soot furrowed his brow. “That name sounds so familiar. I think my mother used to talk about you, only I can’t remember what she said.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Buddy averted his eyes. “I wasn’t a very good friend.”
“Oh, one more thing!” the young cat called, struggling to his feet. “That tom I was telling you about? Jett? You should be careful of him. He hates Zekki and Pris, and he’s cruel. If you’re going to stop whatever he’s doing”—Soot swallowed hard—“you’ll have to kill him.”
Kill Jett. The thought wiggled in Buddy’s mind, bright with truth. Hadn’t he always known it would come to this? Isn’t that why he’d stayed with The Boy, to avoid the very thing he was now racing toward?
Soot watched from the chair, his thin face anxious. “Thanks for the warning,” Buddy said. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
S E V E N T E E N
Pris huddled against the trunk of a pecan tree and watched Jett sleep. Terrified to wake him, she had spent the night and half that day staring at his solid form, trying to recall what had happened.
There was a vague memory of an alley, the sound of cars in the distance, and voices screaming for her to hurry. She knew she crossed the highway with Jett, but after that, things became a blur. It seemed they ran forever, leaping fences, hiding in gutters, and even crossing a shallow creek before finally stopping in the grove. Now, crouched by the pecan’s sturdy trunk, she felt dejected and alone in a way she had never dreamed possible. Where was Zekki, and how long had it been since they had walked through the doorway of their home and into this nightmare? She whimpered in distress, tail wrapped tightly around her body for comfort.
“Having a problem?”
The calico jumped.
Jett was awake and staring at her. “I didn’t really sleep much,” Pris said.
The tom stretched and yawned, then slinked toward her, rubbing his head against her rump as he passed. “That’s too bad.”
A hot wind rustled the trees, and large green pecans plopped to the ground.
“I’ve decided to go back and find Zekki,” she said, then cringed in fear at her audacity.
Jett swiveled his head. “You don’t know?” The great eye drooped with sorrow. “I assumed you did.”
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