The Adventures of Caterwaul the Cat (16 page)

“Okay, everybody, you're going to have to be completely still now,” Caterwaul said. He turned to Coy and motioned for him to investigate. The kitten deftly slid to the ground and peered through the opening. He made a gesture with his paw for Caterwaul to come look. “Get a load of this guy,” he said in a muted voice.

“Oh no,” Caterwaul whispered, “I think we're in trouble.” Pulling up outside the hunter's house was a large wagon pulled by a pair of horses. Less than thirty feet from where they hid, sitting on his horse, was Warwick Vane Bezel III.

14

Jailbreak

C
aterwaul couldn't believe his eyes. What was the queen's secret police commander doing all the way out here? He slipped out into the darkness to investigate. The hunter emerged from the house to greet Warwick with an embrace. It seemed the two were friends, or they were at least on a somewhat friendly basis. Caterwaul didn't think it possible that anyone could really like Warwick Vane Bezel III.

Coy continued with the rescue operation. He managed to get another three cages on the top level open. Then as he hopped across a gap to open a fourth trap, he made a mistake and misjudged the distance. His left rear paw failed to make contact with a solid surface, and he began to fall.

As he dropped, he instinctively grabbed out for anything he could find to slow his descent. His claws hooked onto the bag that made up part of one of the traps, and it too toppled over. This in turn created a cascade, and several other cages began to fall. The cats in and outside of the traps started to panic and cry out en masse, resulting in a “catcophony” of noise emanating from the building.
Oh well,
Caterwaul thought,
so much for secrecy.

“Those of you who are already free, move your tails,” Coy directed them. He was in obvious pain. He'd landed hard on his back, and one of the traps had him pinned underneath. “I need one of you, preferably someone with muscle, to get this blasted cage offa me.” Terrified, the small number of liberated cats all shot for the opening and took off. “No . . . Don't all of you run . . . aww nuts. Somebody's gotta help me!” he shouted. The cats that remained caged up continued shrieking. Coy thought of an expression someone once used, and muttered, “I guess it's true; no good deed remains unpunished.”

Caterwaul watched the hunter and the queen's commander run toward the building. He hoped that Coy had gotten out with the ones he had freed, but he wasn't sure. It was very dark, and Coy was so tiny. He ran to the opening and dashed through it, just as the hunter put his key into the lock.

“Caterwaul! Get over here, I'm pinned down!” shouted Coy. Caterwaul could hear the door as it began to open. Hurling his full weight at the cage, Caterwaul shifted the trap just enough for him to pull Coy free.

“Can you run?” asked Caterwaul.

“I doubt it,” said Coy. “You go on; I will see if I can hide in a crack somewhere.”

Fat chance of that,
thought Caterwaul. “Get up on my back and hold on tight to my collar and pack.” The kitten did as he was told and wrapped his paws around the pack and collar.

Caterwaul could smell a torch being lit. They had no time to lose. “Don't let go for anything. You hear me?” Caterwaul bolted for the hole just as the hunter entered with the lit torch. He hoped they had gotten out without being seen. He could hear the hunter cursing loudly at the disordered condition of his collection of traps.

“They must have escaped through that hole,” he could hear Warwick Vane Bezel III say as they slipped out of earshot.

“So, how many of them got free?” Warwick Vane Bezel III asked the hunter.

“Looks like around six or seven of them,” the hunter answered. “It's kind of hard to tell with all this mess in here.”

He picked up one of the cages and replaced it where it had been. The cat inside was frightened and whimpering.

“How in the world did this happen?” he asked, looking at the queen's secret police commander. “They were all locked up tight.”

“Some of these cats were humans once,” the commander responded, “Is it so hard to believe that a few of them might have the skill and dexterity to escape from these flimsy traps you've devised?” He picked up one of the empty cages from where it had fallen over. “From the look of this one here, I would say it's a wonder you have any cats left at all.

“Load those you have left into the wagon,” said the constable, tossing the hunter a large ring full of keys. “The smallest of those keys will open the lock on the cage you will find there. Put whatever cats you have remaining inside it. You will forgive me if I don't trust your traps.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “What about white ones? Have you captured any white cats for me?”

“Just the one, and she is most definitely a beauty,” the hunter answered. “Just what you've been looking for, I'd say.”

“Excellent,” said Warwick Vane Bezel III, laughing as he rubbed his gauntleted hands together. He was pleased. There were few things he could think of that would make him happier than to be able to bring the queen back her prize before that pompous Caterwaul could.

He tossed the hunter a pouch of coins. “I hope you'll understand, but I've docked you for the ones that got away.”

The hunter was visibly upset, but did not dare to question him.

Once all of the remaining felines had been moved to the cage in the back of the wagon, Warwick Vane Bezel III mounted his horse and signaled for the wagon master to follow.

Once he felt he was safely away, Caterwaul stopped running and helped Coy down from his back. The little guy was having a hard time breathing. The weight of the cage on his small frame had obviously taken its toll. Caterwaul hoped that he didn't have any broken bones, or worse, a punctured lung.

“So how are you holding up?” Caterwaul asked him.

“I'm alive,” answered the kitten. “Glad to be away from that place. Other than that though, I feel like ten days worth of garbage that's been packed into a five-day bag.” He was breathing hard, and he was obviously in a lot of pain. Still, for a little guy, Coy was tough as they come. He didn't complain at all despite his many injuries.

The brave kitten's body was bleeding in several places from the cuts and scrapes he endured trying to break the captive cats out. Caterwaul suspected he was a lot more hurt than he let on.

“I guess this means I'm on the sidelines for the second half, Coach,” he joked, trying to keep up a strong façade. He found it was difficult to breathe or even to walk.

“That's all right, friend,” Caterwaul told him. “You've done more than I ever could've asked. We're still in this game because of you.” He helped Coy to the shelter of a hollowed-out log. “I'll be back for you as soon as I can. I promise.”

“Go back . . . Huxley . . . Go back and see if you can make a deal with the dog,” Coy said.

“The dog? Why?” answered Caterwaul.

“I'm not sure, but I've been thinking. That dog doesn't look all that happy with his role in life right now.” He groaned and shifted his position to see his friend better. “It wouldn't surprise me one bit to find him willing to switch sides.”

Smiling at Coy, Caterwaul turned around and headed back down in the direction he came from. As he approached the hunter's place, Caterwaul could hear shouting and the sounds of a dog wailing in agony. He ducked his head down underneath one of the outer windowsills to listen. Inside the house, the hunter was beating Huxley unmercifully with what looked like a shoe. Peering through the glass of the window, Caterwaul could only watch as the dog tried in vain to get away. Huxley threw his legs up to cover his head with his paws as the hunter swung at him. When the hunter temporarily stopped the beating, Huxley tried to escape, whimpering and crying in pain.

“That will teach you to cost me money, you confounded animal.” The abuse had escalated in the hunter's household. The hunter beat his dog repeatedly as the canine howled, trying in vain to escape the hits, scuttling around the room.

This went on for an eternity it seemed to Caterwaul, though it was probably about ten minutes. By the time the hunter finished, the dog could do nothing but lie on the ground twitching and trembling in fear.

A few moments later, the door of the house opened up and the hunter emerged, dragging his terrified dog by the collar. He hooked the dog back up to the chain and returned inside. Caterwaul could only watch as the miserable dog wept from the horrible beating he had been given by his master.

The cat wanted to go to see if Huxley was all right, but he hesitated. Caterwaul realized he was in no small part to blame for the awful beating Huxley just endured. He was afraid if he got anywhere close to the dog, Huxley might just try to gobble him up.

After mulling it over in his mind for a bit, he felt he had no choice but to act. Caterwaul moved toward where the beaten animal lay. “Hey, Huxley,” he addressed the dog. “How's it going?”

The dog looked up at him sad-eyed from where he lay humbled in the grass. “Oh, it's you,” he said with disgust. “What do you want?”

“Does that happen to you a lot?” Caterwaul asked. “Him hitting you like that . . . does he do that on a regular basis?”

“Not all the time,” the dog answered. “Sometimes he's an all right guy. It's only when I do something that makes him mad, or if he does something stupid that he wants to blame me for, that he gets really violent.” He stretched and sat up on his hindquarters. “But I'm just a dog . . .
his
dog, and he reminds me of that fact far too often.”

Huxley really seemed miserable. It was like he was only showing the tip of the iceberg that was the abuse he had experienced. The sad expression on the dog's face was one of a long-term victim. He looked like he would give almost anything to be free of the hunter and this unhealthy, belligerent lifestyle. Caterwaul felt his pain and believed that the dog might be open to a deal of some sort.

“Look friend,” Caterwaul began, “you and I may not have gotten off on the best footing, but I have something that I want you to consider.”

Huxley crept forward, and his ears turned as if to show that he was interested in hearing what the cat had to say.

“My name is Caterwaul; perhaps you have heard the name?” He queried. “I am pretty well-connected around these parts. I work for Queen Druciah. Do you know who she is?”

Huxley nodded.

“How would you like to come to work for me?” asked the cat.

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