Don't Trust the Cat by Kristen Tracy

Author:Kristen Tracy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chronicle Books LLC

Chapter 12

The Warning Signs

I can’t believe I’m really doing this. My fur feels electric. I thought I’d feel weighed down by fear, totally scared to leave everybody behind. But I feel buzzy and excited. For the first time in forever, I’m doing something that I want to do, something that actually matters, and not just following the glob. I am going to save an actual animal. Possibly more than one. And maybe I don’t need to worry about that blood I saw earlier, because it’s stopped appearing. Maybe I got so scared I imagined it. Maybe nobody is injured.

Every time we slow down and I think we’ve reached our destination, Death Tiger keeps moving, weaving quickly through tall weeds. When we finally stop beside a large tree, Death Tiger claws his way to a tall branch. I stay on the ground, remembering Mom’s Eastern Idaho State Fair rooster plate.

“What do you see?” I ask.

Death Tiger doesn’t answer, just cracks open his mouth and inhales deeply. So I do the same. And hey, I can smell something! It’s metallic. Like a paperclip. And also earthy. Death Tiger drops hard from the tree. Did he fall? He stays low, belly dragging in the dirt, and inches himself into a bush.

“What did you see?” I ask.

But instead of answering, he whimpers. As I approach him, I notice bright red smears on the tall grass and leaves. I was right. He’s been hurt this whole time.

“You’re not okay,” I tell him. “You shouldn’t run anymore.”

His fluffy face is pinched with pain. “He didn’t get me that bad.”

“Who?” I ask. “The weasel?”

“Yes,” Death Tiger says, wincing.

“Where did he get you?” I ask. Maybe it’s a very superficial wound, like the tail or an ear.

“On the leg. Coming back from the asparagus patch.”

I feel guilty. If I’d gone with him instead of lingered to spy on the traitorous Big Poppy, would that attack have even happened? Could I have tried harder to talk him out of going? I ignored his weasel warning completely—more than once. I never realized cats were so unprotected outdoors at night until I became one. If I could change places with this injured orange mini tiger, I would do it in an instant. I feel such deep regret. After I help him recover, I hope a lot of this guilt simply floats away.

“I’ll stay with you,” I tell him. “You need to rest now. And then once you’re better, we’ll rescue Raul.”

“I’m fine,” he says, not even looking at me.

I walk over to join him as he curls up, hidden in the grass. I press my belly against his back.

“When there’s sunlight we can go find fresh water,” I say. “Then we’ll both look for food. Then Raul. In that order.”

“Good plan,” he says. His voice is almost a whisper. He hasn’t shown me his leg. Maybe it isn’t that bad. Maybe we will be able to do all these things.

I tuck my head into Death Tiger’s neck fur. I never thought I would live a day that would end with so much injury and betrayal.

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