Catnapped!

by Gareth P. Jones

  “Yes, that’s our Sea Dragon friend. Let’s see where he goes.”

  Following it with her binoculars she said, “So are you going to fill me in or what?”

  Dirk looked at Holly. She knew so much already, he decided he may as well give her the full picture. It was against every rule in the book but what were rules for if not to be broken?

  “Dragons have been around for a long time,” he said. “Since before the dinosaurs.”

  “You were around at the same time as dinosaurs?” she replied.

  “Me? Do I look that old to you? No, I wasn’t, but there are dragons old enough to remember them. Of course, the dinosaurs died out and there came a new species, smaller but even more deadly. It called itself mankind. For thousands of years dragons and humans lived side by side. Your lot were too scared of our big teeth and the whole fire caboodle to cause any trouble, but over time they made themselves weapons and they got less scared and developed a taste for dragon blood. It became like a sport for them. With every passing year they got cleverer and their weapons became more sophisticated. It was clear that the planet was no longer big enough to share. Look, there’s another one.” Dirk pointed at a second dragon jumping across London. “Looks like a yellow-backed Scavenger. Best avoided.”

  Holly peered carefully at the dragon. “Why?” she asked. “Are they dangerous?”

  “Dangerous, yes, but bad breath too. Pooh!” Dirk held his nose and Holly laughed. “Look, there are two of them,” he said. Sure enough, there were two yellow-backed dragons moving in opposite directions.

  “Dragons began fighting back,” continued Dirk. “The world was on the brink of a full-scale war. Something had to be done. So Minertia, the greatest and oldest dragon of them all, called a conference high in the Himalayas. All of dragonkind came: Sea Dragons, Mountain Dragons, Tree Dragons, Snow Dragons, Desert Dragons, even Sky Dragons, yellowbacked Scavengers, pot-bellied Cave Dwellers, Shade-Huggers, Firedrakes, Wyverns – you name it, they came and spread themselves over the mountains as far as the eye could see.”

  “Were you there?” asked Holly.

  “Yes, but I was very young. I remember Minertia, as big as a mountain herself, flying over and explaining that we had a choice – the biggest decision in our long history. Either we could eradicate mankind before their weapons got too powerful or we could bide our time and go into hiding until mankind went the way of the dinosaurs. It was put to the vote. Those in favour of fighting rose into the air. Those who wanted to hide stayed on the ground. Minertia counted the vote and announced that it had been decided that dragonkind would hide and let the human race run its course.”

  “So an up-airer is a dragon that wanted to go to war?” said Holly.

  “Exactly, and it sounds like this Vainclaw is claiming to be the first one in the air, which is impossible to prove, of course.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I stayed on the ground. Look, another.” Dirk pointed down at a fourth dragon.

  Holly found it with the binoculars. “It looks like you,” she said.

  “Yes, it’s the Mountain Dragon that I saw by your house. It’s probably the one that picked up Willow.”

  Holly watched the dragon head south and asked, “So what’s a Kinghorn?”

  “Before the great vote, a group of dragons calling themselves the Kinghorns organized attacks on human settlements. They were cowardly, mostly targeting the women and children of villages that didn’t have armies or knights to defend them. They wanted to end mankind’s reign before it started. The Kinghorns were all up-airers. After the vote, the attacks were outlawed by the Dragon Council. Anyone found guilty of attacking humans was banished to the Inner Core.”

  “So if Vainclaw is calling his followers the Kinghorns it means…”

  “Trouble,” said Dirk.

  For another hour or so, they stayed watching the dragons jumping across the roofs of London. Holly grew cold and huddled close to Dirk’s belly for warmth.

  Eventually Dirk said, “Well, this is good news.”

  “What do you mean it’s good news? There’s a group of dragons in London planning to wipe out the human race!” exclaimed Holly. “What’s good about that?”

  “Well, they don’t even know that we’re on to them, but we know where they’re hiding, what they’re doing and that there are only four of them.”

  Back in Dirk’s office, Holly stroked Willow and asked, “So what next?”

  Dirk sat, feet on the desk, flicking through the collection of cat puns that constituted the day’s front pages.

  “I’m going to get into that warehouse and get to the bottom of this,” he replied, putting the papers down on the desk.

  “Great,” said Holly, spinning around on the chair, causing Willow to let out a distressed meow and dig her claws into her lap. “Ow,” she said, pulling the cat off and placing her gently down on the floor. “How do we get in?”

  “Not we,” said the dragon. “I am going in. We’re dealing with four fire-breathing dragons intent on eradicating humanity. It’s too dangerous for you. And don’t even start with the pretend crying again. It may work on your parents but—”

  “I don’t use it on them,” Holly interjected angrily.

  “Well, you want to watch it anyway. One day you’ll be crying for real and no one will care because they’ll think you’re faking,” said Dirk.

  “I never cry for real,” she replied. “And this is our case. You said so. I saved your life.”

  “And now I’m saving yours.” He stood up and peeked through the blinds at the street below. “Rats,” he said, quickly stepping back.

  “What is it?” asked Holly.

  “It’s that man again. He was there before. He’s watching the place.” Holly jumped up and looked out the window. Leaning against a lamppost across the road was a man wearing a wide-brimmed hat. “You think they’re on to us?” she said.

  “Could be. There aren’t many dragons who know about me but if you know who to ask…”

  “And you have enough liquorice,” added Holly.

  “Exactly,” said Dirk, smiling. “And we know that this Vainclaw character isn’t above hiring humans to do his dirty work.”

  Holly thought for a moment and then said, “I’ll go and distract him.”

  “No, we don’t know what these people are capable of,” Dirk replied.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take Mrs Klingerflim. They wouldn’t do anything in front of a little old lady.”

  “What will you tell her?”

  “I’ll just say that we’re playing a joke on an old friend of yours.”

  Unable to think of a better plan Dirk said, “OK but be careful,” before adding quietly, “and thanks.”

  “But I want a full report of what you find out,” said Holly.

  “Yes, sir,” said Dirk with a mock salute.

  “At ease,” responded Holly, smiling as she left.

  Dirk heard her call Mrs Klingerflim as she thudded downstairs. After a couple of minutes the front door slammed shut. Peeking through the blinds, Dirk saw Holly and Mrs Klingerflim leave the building. On the opposite side of the road stood the man in the wide-brimmed hat. Dirk edged the window open a little to hear what was going on.

  “Excuse me, sir!” he heard Holly shout.

  The man didn’t reply, suddenly becoming very interested in his shoes.

  “Excuse me,” she repeated. “Can you help this elderly lady across the road? She can’t see very well and I’m too young to be crossing the road myself, but she needs to go to the post office to collect her pension.”

  The man glanced up at the window for a second, then turned around and walked away as quickly as his feet could carry him.

  “Good work, kiddo,” said Dirk under his breath. He pulled up the blind, thrust the window open and jumped out. As he flew over the road he caught a fleeting glimpse of Holly looking up and smiling.

  The streets surrounding the warehouse were deserted and Dirk stood i
n the shadow of a nearby building. Going through the roof was too risky with the dragons constantly going in and out. If he was going to get in he would have to enter the way the humans did. Through the door.

  Checking that no one was around, he scuttled across the road to the barbed-wire fence where the gate was secured with an enormous chain, held in place by a huge padlock. Not a problem, he thought and opened his mouth, put the chain between his teeth and slammed his jaw shut, biting straight through it.

  “Pah,” he said, spitting bits of metal out of his mouth and slipping into the yard. So far, so good, he thought. Looking around he could see the pile of drain piping that he had ripped off the wall. The caravan and the old once-white van sat deserted in opposite corners of the yard.

  Cautiously he approached the door to the warehouse. He pushed it but it was locked. He examined it closely. Some locks he could pick with a claw but this was too small. He walked around the building but there were no windows. There was only one thing for it. He was going to have to shoulder the door open. He stepped back to make a run up and was just about to charge when he heard the sound of a toilet flushing, followed by a click. He turned to see the caravan door opening. He dived behind the once-white van.

  “You, Reginald, are an animal. An animal.”

  “It’s only natural, ain’t it, Arthur?”

  It was the two crooks.

  “There is nothing natural about that smell. In fact, I would go as far to call it supernatural. Out of this world. And I thought we agreed that the mobile home facilities would be exclusively used for the act of micturition,” said the tall, pompous man.

  “Eh?”

  “No pooing in the caravan toilet.”

  Dirk raised his head so he could see the two men.

  “Sorry, Arthur, it was that curry I ’ad last night.”

  “Much as I would dearly love to stand here discussing your bowel movements, we have more pressing duties.”

  “Oh yeah,” said Reg, scratching his head. “I’m not sure this is right. I mean cats is one thing—”

  “Thank you for your opinion, Reg,” interrupted Arthur. “And as fascinating as this lecture on the morality of criminality is no doubt going to be, could you please save it for after we have finished the assigned duties and been remunerated for our efforts.”

  “No, you’ve lost me again.”

  “Oh, never mind. Come on.”

  Dirk ducked. They were not walking towards the warehouse – they were heading for the van. He looked around desperately but there was nowhere to hide. He edged around the back of the vehicle and pulled at the doors, but they were locked shut. The crooks were getting nearer – in a second they would see him. The two men continued bickering, their voices growing louder and louder as they got closer.

  And then he heard a third voice, that of a young girl. “Ex-excuse me.” She sounded upset. “I’ve lost my mummy and I don’t know where I am.”

  The two men stopped and turned in their tracks. Dirk looked through the van window. On the other side of the fence, standing on the pavement, rubbing her eyes, was Holly.

  Reg walked towards her. “Don’t cry,” he said.

  “I’m sorry. I just need to borrow a phone to call my mummy,” she continued in what was proving to be an Oscar-winning performance.

  “I don’t think we can help,” said Arthur coldly.

  “Oh, don’t be so mean. She’s just a little girl all alone,” said Reg. To Holly he said, “I’ll get my phone for you. Hold on,” and he disappeared into the caravan.

  “Stay here,” added Arthur, following Reg inside.

  “Go,” said Holly in an urgent whisper.

  Dirk emerged from behind the van.

  “Quick,” she said. “They’ll be out any second.”

  “Thanks,” said Dirk. “Looks like I owe you again. Now you get out of here too. Those two may be stupid but they’re still dangerous.”

  “Mrs Klingerflim gave me a lift,” said Holly. “You don’t know danger till you’ve been in a car with that woman. Go!”

  Dirk nodded, braced himself and ran at the warehouse door, which easily gave way. He shut the door behind him and looked around at the four large wooden crates with the words DO NOT OPEN written on the outside. For the first time Dirk noticed that there were air holes in them.

  And then a bell rang.

  “Red rat relish!” he swore.

  He knew what the bell meant.

  Company.

  The bell rang again and the lids of the four large wooden crates slowly rose. It was like something out of a tacky vampire movie Dirk had once stayed up watching. But these weren’t plywood coffins containing actors wearing too much makeup. These were dragon claws pushing open the crates.

  He dived over a crate, somersaulted mid-air, spread his wings and flew up into the shadows. He grabbed on to a rafter and blended with the wall, just as the lids clattered to the floor. Out crawled the four dragons he’d seen with Holly – the Mountain and the Sea Dragon, and the two yellow-backed Scavengers. Dirk held his breath. The dragons prowled towards the centre of the warehouse.

  The larger of the two Scavengers raised his head and said in hissing, clicking Dragonspeak, “Brothers Kinghorn, dragons true, in the name of Vainclaw, I greet you.”

  The red Mountain Dragon and the grey Sea Dragon bowed and said together, “Dragons be free, Vainclaw we obey, save no mercy for those who stand in our way.”

  The smaller Scavenger said nothing.

  “Speak the words, Mali,” said the larger of the two in English.

  “Speak the words, Mali,” mimicked the smaller Scavenger.

  “Say it,” demanded the other, squaring up to fight.

  “Leave it out, bro. I ain’t saying that twaddle. Who talks like that anyway? It’s bad enough having to hide in these poxy boxes all day, waiting for you to ring that bell, Leon,” Mali said petulantly.

  “Look, if you don’t want to be a Kinghorn, then you can just run back to Mummy and—”

  “Leave Ma out of this, Leon,” snarled Mali.

  The two yellow-backed dragons were standing nose-to-nose, smoke billowing from their nostrils, circling angrily.

  The Sea Dragon edged himself between them and pushed them away from each other.

  “Can you two stop?” he said. “This mission’s bad enough as it is without you two fighting like cats and … ah … ah—” He tipped his head back and then a giant sneeze roared from his mouth. “Choo!” he screamed, sending a line of fire across the room, catching the Mountain Dragon’s rear.

  The Mountain Dragon yelped. “Flotsam!” he said.

  “Sorry, Jegsy,” said the Sea Dragon. “It’s these flipping cat hairs. They get everywhere. I picked up a white Persian this morning and it’s really making me … ah … ah … ahh … CHOO!”

  Another line of fire darted out. This time the Mountain Dragon jumped out of the way. Unfortunately, he wasn’t looking where he was going and landed on the nose of Mali.

  “Ow, watch it!” said the Scavenger.

  “Stop messing around, you idiots,” snapped his brother, Leon. “We’ve got work to do.”

  “And who appointed you leader, anyway?” demanded Mali.

  “Vainclaw did when he personally asked me to make sure the mission went ahead without any hiccups,” replied Leon. “Or sneezes,” he added, looking witheringly at Flotsam.

  “I think I should be in charge,” replied Mali, “or Jegsy. He’s Vainclaw’s nephew.”

  “No, I’m not bothered, to be honest,” said Jegsy.

  “It’s not important,” said Flotsam. “I’ll just be glad when I don’t have to touch another flipping ca— Ah … ah … CHOOO!”

  This time the two Scavengers dived out of the way of the fire but collided with each other. That’s got to hurt, thought Dirk up in the rafters, as the two dragons’ heads smacked together.

  “You clumsy fool,” snarled Leon, rubbing his head.

  “You ran into me,” growled Mali.


  “Here, I’ve got just the thing for headaches,” said Jegsy and he dived into his crate. After a moment’s rummaging he emerged holding what looked to Dirk like a child’s yoyo.

  “What’s that?” asked Flotsam.

  “Well, I’m not sure but I think it works like this,” replied Jegsy, threading the string through a claw. “Stand still,” he said to Leon and taking aim very carefully, he threw the yoyo at Leon’s head.

  “Ouch!” snarled Leon angrily. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Oh, maybe that’s not the right thing. Hold on.” He jumped back into the crate.

  “You been on the rob again, Jegsy?” said Flotsam.

  “It ain’t robbing. I’m collecting,” said the Mountain Dragon, emerging from the crate holding a tennis racket, a plant pot and a large pair of rather grey-looking underpants.

  “Vainclaw said we shouldn’t take anything except for cats,” said Leon.

  “Yeah, but he wouldn’t mind the odd thing. It’s so interesting, all this stuff. And I’m making real progress at understanding how it all works, ain’t I? Right, try this.” He placed the plant pot on Leon’s head, draped the pants over his nose and then began repeatedly hitting the plant pot with the tennis racket. “How’s that?” he asked.

  “GET OFF ME, YOU IDIOT!” Leon shook his head so hard that the plant pot smashed against a wall and the Y-fronts went flying. The large yellow dragon threw his head back and roared. An enormous flame shot out of his mouth, burning the Y-fronts to a crisp and slightly singeing Dirk’s behind. He swallowed the pain, knowing that the slightest movement would cause his skin to resume its natural colour, revealing him to the other dragons. Below, the charred remains of the pants rained down on the four dragons.

  “Listen to me, you lot,” said Leon. “Vainclaw doesn’t want any unnecessary risks taken. This is too important.”

  “Sorry, Leon.” Jegsy carefully dropped the tennis racket back into his crate.

  “There you go again, bro,” said Mali. “Acting like the big old dragon. What makes you so important, eh?”