A lone black cat swiped at Quentin’s shoe. He looked up again and forced himself to run even faster.
However, there wasn’t any room left to run. Just a hundred yards down the dark and desolate street, the road ended in a cul-de-sac.
Quentin threw a glance at Reese. “What now?” he yelled, afraid to stop.
Reese came to a sudden halt. Quentin stomped to a stop, as well. The gang of cats had somehow gotten in front of them again.
The mangy creatures prowled and hissed. A few slowly edged toward the boys, as if preparing to attack them.
Reese glanced over his shoulder. “They’re behind us, too,” he whispered. “We’re completely trapped now.”
Quentin looked around in desperation. On one side of the road was the dark, thick forest.
Quentin could only guess what wild animals lived in there, and he knew he and Reese wouldn’t be able to run through all that brush.
On the other side of the road, there was a break in the black iron fence: a big ornate gate. It was decorated with gargoyles and had the words RAVENS PASS CEMETERY engraved over the entrance.
“We can go into the woods,” Quentin said, “or through the gates.”
“I’m not going into the woods,” Reese said. He shoved Quentin toward the gate. “This way.”
“The cemetery?!” Quentin said, shocked. He shoved Reese back. “No way. Don’t you see? The cats guided us here. They want us in the cemetery!”
“It’s safer than the woods!” Reese shouted. “I’ll take imaginary ghosts over bloodthirsty cats any day!”
But they didn’t have to decide. The sound of a revving engine came blasting down the dark street.
The little car’s headlights flashed across the boys and the cats. Right away, the cats began to scatter.
Most of the cats ran toward the cemetery gates. They squirmed and squeezed themselves between the tight gate bars. A few of the strays, however, remained. They hissed angrily at the car as it approached. Their eyes flashed like fierce little spotlights in the night.
With a great screeching of rubber and brakes, the car skidded to a stop next to the boys, scattering the remaining cats.
The passenger side door of the car flew open. Carol, the woman from the pizza shop, poked her head out the driver’s side window and screamed to them, “Get in!”
Chapter 7
Safe House
The boys didn’t think twice. Quentin dove into the front seat and Reese jumped in after him. The car was already screaming back down the dark street before they could even close the door.
“They’re chasing us!” Quentin said, twisting in his seat to look out the back window.
A skinny black cat leapt onto the roof of the car.
The strange cat’s claws scraped across the metal with a deafening whine. It arched its back and hissed.
Another cat, this one tan and bloody, dove onto the windshield. The boys screamed. The woman barely flinched.
“I’m Carol Fellino,” the woman said. “I saw you boys outside the pizza place earlier. I knew I’d need to find you once the sun was down. I arrived just in time, too. Those mangy cats nearly had you in their cemetery.”
“Their cemetery?” Quentin repeated. “So they were herding us!”
Carol nodded. “Exactly,” she said.
“What’s going on here, anyway?” Reese asked. “What’s with all the cats? What kind of crazy town is this?”
She just shook her head. “Too many questions,” she said, “and too much to explain. I’ll tell you everything when we get back to my house. When we’re safe.”
Carol sped through the streets back toward her house, swerving around the cats as they ran at her car. The cats didn’t seem concerned for their safety. They kept diving at the car, sacrificing themselves to just scratch at the paint or swipe at the tires.
“Why are you being so careful?” Reese asked. “Just plow through them. They’re evil cats!”
Carol didn’t answer. She just kept driving. Before long, the car came to a jerky stop in her driveway. “Inside,” Carol snapped as she jumped from the car. “Now!”
The boys followed as quickly as they could. As soon as they were both inside, she slammed the door behind them.
Without glancing at the boys, Carol walked toward the back of the little house. “Your bikes are in the workshop already,” she said. “I’ll have that rim fixed for you in a few minutes.” She disappeared through a swinging door.
“Thanks,” Quentin called after her.
Reese glanced at Quentin. “Where’s she going?” he asked. Quentin shrugged.
The woman returned to the room with a pizza box in her hands. “But first things first, I brought you boys a pizza.”
Reese’s mouth fell open. His stomach grumbled loud enough for Quentin and Carol to hear.
“Thank you so much,” Quentin said. “But we really do need to get going. We should have been home hours ago. My parents are going to kill me.”
Reese looked at Quentin like he was nuts. “Dude, I’m starving,” Reese whispered. “Can’t we eat first?”
“Oh, come on,” the woman said. She put the box on the table and opened it up. Steam wafted across the room. The smell was overpowering and tempting. “You boys must have been cycling all day. You’ll never make it home on an empty stomach.”
“We have a few minutes,” Reese said. He elbowed Quentin lightly.
“Ow,” Quentin said. “Yeah, okay. We can eat a little.” He forced a smile at Carol. Then he sat down at the table and pulled a slice from the box.
Carol put plates in front of both boys, along with napkins and forks. Then she poured them each a tall glass of lemonade. Finally, she pulled up a third chair. She sat down with them and sipped from her lemonade.
Quentin took a big bite of pizza. It was delicious. The crust was crisp. The salty pepperoni tasted perfect after a day of sweating. The tomatoes and cheese were so fresh, and the herbs gave it a great flavor.
An odd flavor, Quentin thought, but still really good.
“So,” Reese said through a mouthful of pizza, “what’s with this crazy town?”
“Crazy town?” Carol repeated through clenched teeth. “This is Ravens Pass. It’s my home. I’ve lived here all my life.”
“In fact,” Carol added, “my family is one of the oldest families in Ravens Pass. We’ve been here for . . . well, forever.”
“He didn’t mean anything against the town,” Quentin said. “He just meant those cats.”
“They tried to kill us,” Reese said, nodding.
Carol laughed as she poured herself more lemonade. “Nonsense,” she said.
“What?!” Quentin said. “You saw them outside the cemetery! They were attacking your car!”
Carol just shrugged. “Have another slice of pizza, both of you,” she said. “It’ll just go to waste if you don’t.”
The boys each took a second slice. “Thanks a lot,” Reese said. “It’s delicious.”
“You’re welcome,” Carol said. She took a sip of her lemonade. “Anyway, the poor kitties. They thought maybe they could get the two of you into the cemetery.”
Reese shivered. “Creepy,” he said. “I guess you were right, Quentin. They were trying to herd us into the cemetery, just like you said.”
Quentin imagined what would have happened if he and Reese had gone into the cemetery. They would’ve been trapped behind the big black fence with hundreds of cats waiting for them in the darkness, tearing at them with their claws and teeth.
“Did they . . . ,” Quentin began, gulping. “Did they want to eat us?”
Carol put down her lemonade and stared at Quentin. Then she looked at Reese. An eerie grin slowly began to spread across her face.
Finally, Carol covered her mouth and began to chuckle. Then she threw her head back and howled out laughter.
“Eat you?” she said after a few moments. “You two are pretty stupid, aren’t you?”
“What?” Quentin aske
d, confused. That only made Carol laugh again.
Carol got up from the table and went to the closet. She took out a pair of heavy, long gloves.
“Those cats weren’t trying to kill you,” Carol said. “And they didn’t want to eat you.”
“But they’re not normal,” Reese said.
Carol nodded. She pulled on the gloves. “They’re certainly not normal,” she said. “They’re . . . well, they’re my children.”
“Your children?” Quentin repeated.
“In a way,” she said. “I love each and every one of them. I love all cats. They hate me, though. And who can blame them.” From the same closet, she pulled out a cat cage and placed it on the floor near the table.
“If they didn’t want to kill us,” Quentin said, putting down his pizza, “why did they want us to go into the cemetery?”
Carol tapped her chin. “Well, that’s what’s troubling me,” she said. “How did they know you two boys were coming through town?”
“What do you mean?” Quentin asked.
“That black one,” she said. “I think he must be their leader. But the point is, they reached you before I could. They must be getting smarter.”
“You mean they’ve attacked people before?” Quentin asked.
“Attacked?” Carol repeated. “Boy, aren’t you listening? They didn’t attack you. They tried to save you.”
“Save us?” Quentin asked. “Save us from what, exactly?”
“From me, obviously,” Carol said. “I hate the cemetery. The women of my family can’t set foot in there without panicking or fainting. You would’ve been safe there.”
“You . . . ,” Quentin said. He quickly stood up. His chair fell backward. “What are you?!”
Reese stopped eating. He held the slice of pizza held halfway between his mouth and his plate. “What’s wrong, Q?” he finally asked.
Quentin’s eyes went wide. He turned his head toward Reese without taking his eyes off Carol. He whispered to Reese, “We have to get out of here!”
Quentin grabbed Reese by the shoulder. “Come on!” he said, pulling Reese toward the door.
Chapter 8
Meow
Carol didn’t bother to chase them. She just sat back down and took a sip of her drink. “It’s really too bad the cats can’t speak,” she said.
Quentin grabbed the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s locked,” he said. Then he spun to face Carol again. “Let us go, you crazy cat lady!”
“Where would you go?” Carol asked. “As I was saying, it’s a shame they couldn’t simply talk to you. Of course, they used to speak all the time!”
“The cats?” Reese asked. He slowly walked back toward the table, yelping when he bumped into it.
Carol smirked. “Of course,” she said. “They spoke, screamed, shouted, cried . . . when they were still boys.”
“Boys . . . ?” Quentin whispered.
Carol nodded again. “So loud and obnoxious,” she said. “Now they’re quiet. Now they’re my most favorite precious animals — cats.”
Quentin’s hands and arms began to itch. He looked down at them and felt his stomach tie itself into knots.
Quentin’s hands had curled and twisted toward his elbows, as if they were folding themselves in half. Thick patches of hair had begun to sprout along his arms like little furry spots.
“I adore cats,” Carol said, eyeing Quentin intensely. “They’re so quiet and graceful.”
Quentin was panicking now. He closed his eyes tightly. It’s all just a bad dream, he told himself.
Quentin raised his hand to his face to pinch himself. But instead of fingers, he felt fur tickle his cheek. Quentin opened his eyes to see that he no longer had fingers at all. Little furry nubs had taken their place.
Sharp claws began to painfully poke their way through the little furry paws that used to be his hands.
“Oh, my kitties never stay with me very long,” Carol said. “But I don’t mind. There will always be another cat . . . or two.”
Quentin’s bones crunched and curled and shrank. His legs twisted inward, forcing him to his knees. The pain was overwhelming.
Quentin opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The world around him seemed to be growing larger. He felt small, helpless, and cold.
On all fours, Quentin struggled to stand, but his legs just wouldn’t lift him. The kitchen table seemed to be miles above his head.
He looked for Reese, but didn’t see him. He just saw a gray cat cowering under the kitchen table, hissing and baring its teeth.
Again, Quentin tried to scream. But only a soft “meow” escaped from his lips. He felt a gloved hand grasp him under his furry belly. Carol scooped him into the cat carrier and closed the door behind him.
“There, there,” the woman whispered, close to his ear. “That’s a good kitty.”
THE CASE
Case number: 232328
Date reported: September 17
Local police: None
Victims: Quentin Sparks, age 14; Reese Michaels, age 13; several other missing kids
Civilian witnesses: None
Disturbance: Two students were reported missing. Mr. and Mrs. Sparks, parents of one of the missing boys, came to me after the police failed to find any leads.
Evidence: A strange stray cat appeared on the Sparks’ doorstep the other night carrying a scrap of paper in its mouth, refusing to leave.
Suspects information: Carol Fellino, age 36
CASE NOTES:
THE SCRAP OF PAPER THE CAT WAS CARRYING TURNED OUT TO BE A UTILITY BILL FOR ONE CAROL FELLINO, A LOCAL RESIDENT OF RAVENS PASS. IT WASN’T MUCH TO GO ON, BUT IT WAS THE ONLY LEAD I HAD.
WHEN I ARRIVED AT THE FELLINO RESIDENCE, THE PREMISES WERE CRAWLING WITH CATS. MS. FELLINO INVITED ME IN, CAREFUL NOT TO LET ANY OF THEM INSIDE. SHE WAS QUITE COOPERATIVE IN ANSWERING QUESTIONS, AND OFFERED ME A SLICE OF PIZZA FRESH FROM HER OVEN. I RAISED THE SLICE TO MY MOUTH AND IMMEDIATELY NOTED THE SCENT OF BELLADONNA, A RARE HERB. ANY WITCHCRAFT EXPERT KNOWS ABOUT THE TRANSFORMATIVE EFFECTS OF BELLADONNA. I POINTED AT HER HERB GARDEN BY THE WINDOW, ASKING HER IF SHE OFTEN USED IT IN ANY OF HER RECIPES.
IMMEDIATELY, SHE RAN OUT THE DOOR. BEFORE I COULD GIVE CHASE, THE CATS OUTSIDE SWARMED UPON HER, HISSING AND SCRATCHING HER, UNTIL SHE FELL TO THE GROUND. FROM THAT POINT, IT WAS A SIMPLE MATTER OF REVERSING THE HERB’S EFFECTS BY FEEDING THE CATS SOME WOLFSBANE. AN HOUR LATER, MS. FELLINO WAS BEHIND BARS, AND TWENTY-THREE FAMILIES HAD THEIR KIDS BACK.
DEAR READER,
THEY ASKED ME TO WRITE ABOUT MYSELF. THE FIRST THING YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THAT JASON STRANGE IS NOT MY REAL NAME. IT’S A NAME I’VE TAKEN TO HIDE MY TRUE IDENTITY AND PROTECT THE PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT. YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE THE THINGS I’VE SEEN, WHAT I’VE WITNESSED. IF PEOPLE KNEW I WAS TELLING THESE STORIES, SHARING THEM WITH THE WORLD, THEY’D TRY TO GET ME TO STOP. BUT THESE STORIES NEED TO BE TOLD, AND I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN TELL THEM.
I CAN’T TELL YOU MANY DETAILS ABOUT MY LIFE. I CAN TELL YOU I WAS BORN IN A SMALL TOWN AND LIVE IN ONE STILL. I CAN TELL YOU I WAS A POLICE DETECTIVE HERE FOR TWENTY-FIVE YEARS BEFORE I RETIRED. I CAN TELL YOU I’M STILL OUT THERE EVERY DAY AND THAT CRAZY THINGS ARE STILL HAPPENING.
I’LL LEAVE YOU WITH ONE QUESTION—IS ANY OF THIS TRUE?
JASON STRANGE
RAVENS PASS
GLOSSARY
bounded (BOUND-id)—moved forward quickly with leaps and jumps
deserted (di-ZHURT-id)—abandoned
desolate (DESS-uh-luht)—empty or uninhabited
feline (FEE-line)—to do with cats, or cat-like
feral (FAIR-uhl)—like a wild animal
horde (HORD)—a large, noisy, moving crowd of people or animals
mangy (MAYN-gee)—shabby or rough looking
pounced (POUNSSD)—jumped on something and grabbed hold of it
slinking (SLINGK-ing)—moving slowly and sneakily
skittering (SKIT-er-ing)—running lightly or rapidly
>
tensed (TENSSD)—grew tight and stiff in anticipation or preparation
wicked (WIK-id)—cruel or evil
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
Some people believe that crossing paths with a black cat is bad luck. Do you believe in any superstitions? Why or why not?
What was the scariest part of this book? Why?
Reese and Quentin are transformed into cats. If you had to be transformed into an animal, what animal would you choose?
WRITING PROMPTS
If you were trapped in a town filled with feral cats, how would you escape? Write about it.
Imagine the last chapter of this book from Carol’s perspective. Why is she turning the boys into cats? Rewrite the last chapter of this book from Carol’s point of view.
Reese and Quentin get lost in a strange town. Have you ever gotten lost? What happened? Write about it.
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Jason Strange is published by Stone Arch Books
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Copyright © 2012 by Stone Arch Books
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available at the Library of Congress website.
ISBN: 978-1-4342-3295-3 (library binding)
ISBN: 978-1-4342-3883-2 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-4342-9955-0 (ebook)
Summary: When fourteen-year-old Quentin’s bike breaks down in the strange town of Ravens Pass, he and his friend Reese find themselves surrounded by feral cats--is this an attack or something else?
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