Emmy and the Rats in the Belfry (18 page)

A bat swooped in fast from the eaves of the station, calling, “Hurry!
Presto!
Get on one of the hopper cars—the train's going as soon as the new crew gets on!”

Emmy peered into the night. Her friends were hidden on the other side of the train, but she could see two hopper cars shaped like two thick, flat
V
s. At the front and back ends of each was a little platform or ledge with space to sit, and at the side was a ladder to the top of the car. Between the cars, and joining them, was a knuckle of steel. But the ledges were high off the ground—could rats really jump that high? Certainly not old rats like Gussie and Melly …

Emmy looked up at her captors, her ears tensely alert. Had they heard what the messenger bat had said?

Apparently so. Miss Barmy whispered in Cheswick's ear; Cheswick nodded and moved stealthily to the train, taking up a position out of sight. Emmy, left behind with Miss Barmy, tried vainly to spit out the shoelace gag.

The shadow of a girl appeared in the gap between the cars. Ana hoisted herself up onto the front hopper's platform, and reached down to take a much smaller shadow, one with a dangling tail, from Joe's hands. She tucked the rodent carefully in a corner, and reached for the next, and then a third.

“You don't need to hand
me
in!” cried Raston, and a fourth small shadow showed briefly above the ledge, leaping. There was a thud, another leap, and then a scrabbling sound of claws on metal. Joe gave the Rat a boost and climbed up on the platform himself.

“You didn't have to help me,” said Raston, breathing hard. “A flabulous rat likes to challenge himself with ever-increasing levels of fitness difficulty—”

“Shut up, Ratty, and just bite us, okay?” said Joe. He sat down on the platform next to Ana, his legs dangling. “Bite us twice!”

“You
could
say
please
,” said the Rat. He sniffled and sneezed again. “Is there some ragweed around here? I have allergies.”

“Hurry, Ratty!” Ana said through her teeth.

The two child-sized silhouettes dwindled, shrank, and grew fuzzy around the edges. At the distant station, a door banged and human figures stepped onto the train. “Good-bye! Good-bye!” called the bats, fluttering up and away from the tracks. And then, from the shadows, a tall, bony shadow moved in—and grabbed.

There was a squeal of terror. But Cheswick Vole, his hands gripped around a small gray rodent, was already trotting back to the cage where Miss Barmy waited with her fingers on the latch.

“Quick! Give the rat to me!” Miss Barmy reached out eagerly.

“Watch out! It's trying to bite!” said Cheswick, gripping tighter.

“And when I do, you're going to shrink!” howled Raston, as Cheswick shoved him in the cage headfirst.

Miss Barmy gasped. “You got the wrong rat, Cheswick! You got the shrinking one!” She staggered to the hopper and leaped onto the platform. “I'll get you!”

The train emitted a sudden series of clanks. The engine noise increased. Miss Barmy was kneeling on the platform, her hands snatching and grabbing.

“I've got them cornered, Cheswick!” Miss Barmy cried. “Bring the cage! Hurry!”

Cheswick snatched the cage and ran, joggling Emmy and the Rat from side to side. “Here, Jane! Which one is she?”

“They're going to tell me right now,” said Miss Barmy, smiling with bared teeth. “Is it
this
one?” Her fingers tightened on something furry.

“No!” cried Joe, his voice both fierce and frightened. “She's old! She's sick! Put her down!”

“Then give me the kissy rat!” snarled Miss Barmy. She opened her clenched hand to show a frail, elderly rat, its sides heaving with the effort to breathe.

Emmy felt a cold shiver run beneath her fur as she stared out between the crisscrossed metal bars at her helpless great-aunt.

There was the sound of a bell, a clank. The train lurched forward.

Cheswick trotted alongside the slowly moving train. “Hurry, Jane! Get off
now
!”

“I'm not getting off until I get the right rat, Cheswick! I'll squish them one by one if I have to!”

Sissy stepped forward, her paws in the air. “Put her down,” she said, her voice trembling but stern. “And let Rasty and Emmy go free. I'll come.”

“Jane!” yelped Cheswick, jogging faster and gripping the ladder with his free hand.

Miss Barmy smiled cruelly. She reached out and gripped Sissy's unresisting body, discarding Aunt Gussie on the platform floor.

Cheswick threw the cage onto the empty platform of the car behind, took three running steps, and heaved himself on board. Emmy and Raston bumped heads as the cage landed with a bang.

They were passing the station. The yard lights flashed briefly on Cheswick, Miss Barmy, the huddled rats, the cage, and then all was dark again. The bats, realizing too late that something had gone wrong, surged up to them in a flapping cloud, only to fall back as the train gathered speed.

“Shove the kissy rat in the cage,” said Miss Barmy. Cheswick lifted the unresisting Sissy from Miss Barmy's hand, took a giant step across the rackety space between the jolting cars, and tumbled the little rat in the cage with her brother and Emmy. He snapped the lock shut.

“Hey! Let the others go!” cried Sissy in a passion, rattling the bars with her paws. “That was the deal!”

“Oh, I'll let them go,” said Miss Barmy. “Just not right
now
.”

E
MMY SAT HUDDLED
in the cage and watched the countryside flash past, gray and formless in the hour before dawn. Now and then she could pick out a stray pinprick of light from a house or farmyard, gone so fast she wasn't sure she had seen it at all.

Leaning against her in a warm and fuzzy bunch were Ratty and Sissy, fast asleep, lulled by the steady
clack clack
of rolling wheels and the rocking sway of the hopper. And across the rattling space between the cars, on the rear platform of the hopper ahead, was everyone else.

Miss Barmy sat curled up in one corner, a dark, malevolent shadow, with Cheswick next to her, keeping watch. Every time she got a little furry around the edges, he would dig in his carryall bag for yet another patch to keep his lady love human.

Cheswick watched the four rodents in the other corner, too. And he had told them strictly not to move from their corner or talk. But what he didn't realize was that Joe had been steadily insulting him for hours, in the high-pitched squeaks no human could hear.

Emmy had been too worried to laugh. Once Sissy had untied the shoelace gag with her clever paws, Emmy had spent most of her time trying quietly to pick the lock on the cage. But she was no Manlio; she had not learned to pick locks from babyhood; and when her claw broke off in the lock, jamming it completely, she gave up in despair.

She and the others had discussed plans, of course. They had discussed them all night long, in the ultrasonic frequency that Miss Barmy could not hear. But every idea seemed stupid, or hopeless, or both. And when Joe tested Cheswick's watchfulness—when he moved just slightly away from the corner of the platform—Cheswick's big hand had come down around the unconscious Gussie, and his thumb and forefinger had encircled her small neck, and Joe had not tried to move again.

Emmy's eyes fell on the small drawstring bag with its damaged Sissy-patches, crumpled in a corner of the cage. She had managed to keep those few patches from Miss Barmy, but it was probably a useless gesture. Cheswick had a huge bag full, and they seemed to be working just fine.

Sissy shifted in her sleep, and a moan of pain escaped her damaged mouth. Emmy put out a paw and stroked her gently, but Sissy's moan turned into a short, distressed sob.

Emmy's whiskers stiffened. Sissy was having another nightmare. And if Miss Barmy succeeded in taking her to France, Sissy would probably have many more.

Emmy's small rodent heart beat high in her throat. She had heard all of Miss Barmy's plans now: details about how they would elude the police, get money from the bank, fly out of the country. Cheswick and Miss Barmy had discussed everything, raising their voices to be heard over the clank and rumble of the moving train. Emmy only wished the train noise had been louder so she didn't have to listen—it made her ill.

The miles rolled on, and the sky grew lighter. The dark, windy night had given way to a clear, windy morning, and on the eastern horizon the deep blue sky curved down to a pink edge, just showing above the distant trees. Chuk
chuk
, chuk
chuk
, chuk
chuk
went the train, like the tick of a clock, and Emmy knew that time was running out.

There was one idea—a hopeless, stupid idea—that had been dismissed as too dangerous by the others. But it lingered on the outskirts of Emmy's mind, refusing to go away. It was a simple plan. And it
might
work.

Or course if it failed, she would be squished, suffocated, and cut in little pieces.

Ding ding ding ding
came the train's bell, then the whistle:
DOOoot! Doot DOOOOooot!

A crossing flashed past. Was it the town before Grayson Lake? Emmy wasn't sure, but she knew they must be getting close.

Miss Barmy leaned forward to look at the passing countryside. The houses were more frequent now, and the roads had an occasional car or truck.

“The moment it stops, Cheswick, we jump off,” Miss Barmy said. “Get everything ready—we can't waste any time. Father was going to take us to the airport, and he still can.”

“Yes, my little chrysanthemum.” Cheswick settled the carryall more firmly on his shoulder, stepped across the gap between cars, and bent down to grip the handle of the cage. “Aren't you excited?” he said to Emmy. “You're going to travel overseas! You'll learn to speak French like a native!”

Emmy stared at him through the bars of the cage. It was true. If they didn't get away—today, this minute—she and Ratty and Sissy would all end up in France. And they
would
be there long enough to learn to speak the language. They would be there for the rest of their lives.

Emmy felt a gathering sensation inside her, as if all her whirling fears had compacted into one still point of furious rebellion. “I'm going to do it.” She said the words before she could change her mind.

“Do what?” Joe spoke as she had, in a frequency higher than any human could hear.

Emmy told him.

“But you might die!” cried Joe. “All of you might die.”

Ratty clutched Sissy with both his paws.

“Do you think I don't know that?” Emmy reared back, her muzzle high. “But if we go to France—if we stay their prisoners for the rest of our lives—we're going to
wish
we were dead, every single day.”

There was a silence.

“She's right,” said Ana at last. “I ought to know.”

The train's sound changed and grew suddenly louder—
WHAPPETA WHAPPETA
—and Emmy looked up to see that they were passing through a cut in a hill, with stone layered high on either side. And then they were through, and the sunrise flamed into the gap in colors of peach and gold. A water tower stood guard as the train passed, and the morning light glinted on the rooftops of a town and danced in sparkles across a familiar lake, beautifully blue and clear.

“Listen.” Emmy stared hard at Ana and Joe. “Miss Barmy and Cheswick will follow us because it's Sissy they want. But no matter what happens, you have to take care of the aunts. Promise?”

Joe pulled at his whiskers and looked at Cheswick and Miss Barmy, who were leaning out in their eagerness to see their destination.

“Promise!” demanded Emmy. “You won't be able to help us if things go wrong, but you
can
help Gussie and Melly. Do you have the harness ready? Do you remember all of Stefano's instructions?”

Ana nodded. “The harness, the signal, the postal bats, then on to Rodent City to find Ratmom.”

“The bats won't be able to fly all the way to Rodent City. It's almost too bright for them already. So one of you will have to go, and one of you stay with the aunts at the station.”

“Why don't you just send an Emergency Rodent Alert?” Raston asked.

“Oh, Rasty!” cried Cecilia. “What a wonderful idea!”

“But what's a—”

“Aiiiieeeee! Aiiiieeeee! Aiiiieeeeeeeeeee!”
shrieked Raston.

Emmy glanced quickly at Miss Barmy. It seemed almost impossible that she hadn't heard. But, no, as long as it was a high enough frequency, a sound could be as loud as a jet engine and no human would ever hear it.

“Let me get this straight,” said Joe. “We do this sort of screechy thing—”

“AIIIIEEEEE! AIIIIEEEEE! AIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!”
screamed Raston.

Joe removed his paws from his sensitive ears. “Right. Like that. And then we add our message?”

Ratty and Sissy nodded together. “Keep it short,” said Ratty.

“Say where you are and that you're in danger,” added Sissy, twisting her paws.

“And don't forget to ask for … for Ratmom.” Raston buried his face in his paws and broke down completely. “Oh, Mommy, my ratmommy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to criticize—I don't care if you
never
get flabulous!”

The rooftops were getting closer. Emmy knew they would be passing her house soon—would her parents be out this early? She had an overwhelming longing to run to them and tell them everything, let them fix it all …

But she had to get out of the cage first. She looked at the faces of her friends.

“Emmy,” said Joe, his voice cracking, “maybe you shouldn't. Even if you'd be in a cage the rest of your life, at least you'd be
alive
.”

“What?” said Aunt Melly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What do you mean, she'd still be alive?”

Emmy clenched her paws to keep them from shaking. There was no time, not for explanations, not for anything. “Do it, Sissy,” she whispered. “Kiss me twice.”

Emmy's body went through the familiar change from rodent to girl, and then from tiny to large. But this time there was a cage around her. She could feel herself filling all available space, her back up against the crisscrossed bars, her elbows in the corners, her skin trying to push out through the holes—

It wasn't working. She couldn't breathe. There was no room for her chest to expand and her knees were pressing against her throat and then somewhere beneath her, right before everything went black, she heard a small whimper.