Claws

by Ricky Sides

  “Then your VIP card would work there as well,” acknowledged Mary Lou with a smile.

  “Which brings us back to the animal containment room door,” George said with a frown.

  “Congratulations. You’ve just designed your first great event. Don’t worry about the door. I can open that lock,” she said reassuringly.

  George felt his heart race as what she’d said sank in, and he realized that she must be planning to come and assist him in the operation. “You can?” he asked.

  “Sure. I’ve got a friend who has a device that’ll crack that code in minutes. I’ll get it from him and then get on the road to Athens. Once I’m on the road, I can be there in less than three hours.” She paused and glanced at her watch, and then she said, “I’ll be there by 7:00 P.M. give or take thirty minutes for traffic congestion.”

  “That’s too early for us to make the attempt. Security begins their lunch rotation at 8:30 P.M. I planned on some of them being off duty for the job. That reduces the odds of an accidental encounter.”

  “That’s good planning. I’ve got to hand it to you. You’ve really done your homework. That’s not a problem. It’ll give us time to get acquainted in person. After the mission, maybe we can have a couple of drinks before I have to head back home. I’d stay in a hotel, but that would leave a paper trail, so it’ll be a long drive home for me tonight.”

  “You could stay here,” suggested George. “I have a guest room, so it wouldn’t be an inconvenience.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t mind a bit. I promise, I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

  “Um, that might be a little boring,” Mary Lou said playfully.

  “In that case, I can be less than perfect,” he responded. He was surprised at how glibly that flirtatious remark had slid from his mouth. He put it down to the excitement at the coming mission.

  Laughing, Mary Lou said, “We’ll see how things go after the mission. Let’s concentrate on the mission first. Everything else will take care of itself.”

  ***

  Patricia had just finished washing her dishes, when she heard a knock at her door. Drying her hands on a paper towel, she hurried to the door wondering who would be visiting her. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was 7:15 P.M.

  As she opened the door, she saw Jerry Wilson, the guard from Alcorn standing on her porch. She noticed that he was holding a laptop computer and assumed that he was returning her unit. “Come in, Jerry,” she said cordially.

  Entering her home, he said, “Robert asked me to deliver your laptop. I’m afraid they probably reformatted it to erase all of the Alcorn files,” he added apologetically as Patricia took the computer and set it on a table near the door.

  “They did the same to my home computer, and ransacked my house as well,” Patricia responded with a frown.

  “I didn’t know about that,” he said. “When did they show up here?”

  “While I was at work being strip searched I suppose,” she responded bitterly.

  “You mean you weren’t even here?” he asked incredulously. When he saw the expression of anger on her face, he added, “I’m sorry. I had no idea they were going to do that. I can’t believe that Robert sent a team here. Actually, I’m not sure he did. All of us were at work the whole time you were detained.”

  “Maybe he called in some off duty personnel then, but it had to be someone after Alcorn information. Nothing else was touched. Not even the money in the same container as my notebook,” stated Patricia.

  “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to have your home invaded. I’ll leave. I’m sure the last thing you want at the moment is to be around any Alcorn security personnel,” Jerry said. He turned and took a step toward the door.

  “Wait. Actually, the last thing I want at the moment is to be alone. Why don’t you stay a few minutes? It’s not your fault,” she said.

  “Well, there are a couple of questions I’d like to ask you,” Jerry admitted. Then he hurriedly said, “I’m not trying to pump you for information on behalf of Alcorn. This is strictly personal curiosity.”

  “In that case, have a seat. I’ll get us something to drink. What would you like?”

  “Anything will be fine. Thank you.”

  “You drink beer, right?” Patricia inquired.

  “Sure, a beer would be great,” he responded with a smile.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said. She turned and walked into the kitchen.

  A moment later, she returned with two cold beers. She handed a bottle to Jerry and then sat down on the sofa beside him. “You mentioned some questions?” she prompted and then took a sip of her beer.

  “Did you really threaten to rip Clarisse’s eyes out and piss in her sockets?” Jerry asked with a broad smile on his face.

  Patricia’s eyes widened and she almost choked on her beer. She managed to swallow, and then she asked, “Did she tell you guys I said that?”

  “She did,” Jerry responded.

  “Yeah, well, she was putting on latex gloves with the intentions of doing a body cavity search. I objected to that, so yeah, I said the worst thing I could think of at the time. I realize it was a weird thing to say, but what can I say? I’m not exactly accustomed to threatening people.”

  Jerry surprised her when he threw back his head and laughed. It was a good hardy laugh, and Patricia found herself smiling.

  When he stopped laughing, he said, “I’m sorry, but you should have seen her face when she told us about it. She was livid when Robert told her that it would serve her right if you’d done just that. He told her that she had no business trying to initiate such a search, and that it could easily have led to a lawsuit.”

  Jerry took a sip of his own beer, and then he asked, “Why the bad blood between you and Clarisse? I mean, it’s no secret. Everyone knows you two can’t stand each other,” he added, and then he took another sip of his beer.

  “She’s having an affair with Talbot. I caught them in a compromising position months ago. Talbot didn’t seem too worried about it. I just assured him that I couldn’t care less about his personal life. He’s single, so it was no big deal to him. But Clarisse isn’t single, so she didn’t like me knowing her dirty little secret. She tried to get Talbot to fire me, but he wouldn’t, because we were working on the new product line.”

  Jerry nodded his understanding and said, “Well, that sort of explains the whole body cavity search thing too. You caught her in a humiliating position. She probably wanted to put you through something similar to…” Embarrassed by what he’d almost said, he stopped talking and his face turned red.

  “I get where you were going,” Patricia stated thoughtfully. “That hadn’t even occurred to me, but from a psychological perspective, it makes sense.”

  Jerry simply nodded his agreement, relieved that he hadn’t just blurted out the whole thing.

  “Alright, my turn to ask a question,” Patricia said.

  “Fair enough,” Jerry replied.

  Patricia sat her beer on the coffee table and shifted her body on the couch, so that she could face him when she asked her question. She was looking him in the eyes when she asked, “Why didn’t you ever ask me out?”

  “I was afraid you’d say no because of the age difference. That, and because I’m a nobody. You’re a professional woman, but I’m just a low paid security guard,” he said looking earnestly into her eyes.

  “What’s that have to do with anything?” Patricia asked, puzzled by his response.

  “You must be used to a lifestyle that I could never hope to provide. I’m a McDonalds and Burger King kind of guy. Shoney’s breakfast bar is a treat for me. Expensive restaurants don’t fit into my budget.”

  “I prefer Burger King. They have the best chicken sandwich in town. The fried, not the grilled. Shoney’s breakfast bar is great, but I don’t go there very often because it’s just too crowded and I don’t like crowds. When I do go, I go early to beat the crowd. I really
prefer Jacks to McDonalds,” Patricia explained. Smiling, she added, “See? We’re not so different after all.”

  “I wish I’d known,” he replied.

  “I wish you’d asked,” she responded.

  “So do I,” he said with more than a touch of regret in his voice. He paused a moment, and then he asked, “My turn?”

  “Why not? This is sort of fun, and I don’t have to go to work tomorrow,” she said glibly.

  Jerry frowned, looked down at the floor and said, “I’m really sorry about that.”

  Patricia reached out and touched his arm with her right hand to get his attention. “Don’t be. I’ll be fine.” Then she said, “You had a question?”

  Looking at her with a frown, he answered, “Yea, I do. Do you think you’re right about the cats? I mean, are you certain the feed poses that big a threat?”

  “Do you think I’m overreacting?” Patricia asked.

  “I’ve seen the cats on the monitor, but it’s hard to get a true concept of their size and behavior from the few glimpses I’ve seen. That’s why I’m asking you about them.”

  “Then I’ll try to explain,” she said. She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, and then she said, “First, let me assure you that I don’t dislike cats. I like them. In some respects, they fit my personality well. They’re affectionate, but don’t require constant attention. There have been documented instances of cats waking people in the middle of the night when their home was on fire. There are also instances of cats attacking much larger animals when they felt their home was in danger. Check out the videos on the internet sometime. You’ll find videos of cats attacking bears and dogs. But cats, like people, have their dark sides. Cats that people have raised from kittens, sometimes turn on their owners.”

  Frowning, she said, “Owners isn’t a good term. No one really owns a cat.” She smiled then, and added, “I think cats believe they own us.”

  Jerry nodded his agreement with her observation. Smiling, he said, “That’s been the case with the cats I’ve had in the past.”

  “Ah, you’ve had cats then. Good. That’ll give you a frame of reference,” she acknowledged.

  He grinned and nodded in agreement. “Some were better behaved than others. Some were more affectionate, but all had one thing in common. When they want attention, they’re persistent about it, but when they’ve had all the attention they want, they’ll walk away. They’re pretty independent.”

  “Exactly, and that behavior varies between individuals,” she remarked. “And so does their level of aggression. Most domestic cats are model citizens. They never lift a claw to harm their human companions. But, occasionally, there are occurrences where they turn on their owners. In some cases, they do it for no apparent reason. In others, they have recently given birth to a litter.” She paused to see if Jerry was following everything she was saying.

  “I understand,” he said.

  Nodding, she continued, “In the examples where cats have attacked people, they usually inflicted numerous wounds. That’s because, when a cat attacks, it’s using all four feet and its teeth. Cats typically use their front claws to grasp and hold their prey. When they can, they bite its throat to shut off the airway, or to rip it open. If the prey is large enough, as is the case with humans, their hind legs come into play. They’ll gash their victim with their hind claws, while simultaneously attacking with their fangs and latching on with their front claws. In the case of human attacks, this all takes place very quickly. The cats attack in a frenzy that is so fast that a person can receive fifty or more wounds in a matter of seconds. There have been reports of domestic cat attacks in which the victim required one hundred plus stitches, though granted, that’s rare. But the point is, that those attacks were by normal cats.”

  Pausing a moment to collect her thoughts, she continued, “The average housecat weighs from nine to eleven pounds. They stand about eight to ten inches tall. Their claws are about one-quarter inch long. Compare that to the test specimens, which are fed a steady diet of the new feed for six months. Those animals average from seventeen to twenty pounds. Two of them weigh almost twenty-two pounds each. They range in height from sixteen to twenty-five inches tall. Their claws range from seven-sixteenths to five-eighths inches. Kept satiated, they’re manageable. But if they get hungry, their aggression level skyrockets.”

  “I can see where their added size would make them more dangerous,” Jerry responded.

  “Oh, it’s not just the size of the cats, although the larger size means larger weapons in the form of their claws and fangs, which are also proportionately larger. It’s the fact that almost all of that additional weight goes into muscle, which causes deeper wound channels when they attack.”

  Well, sure the wounds would be deeper. After all, the claws are longer,” responded Jerry.

  “I’m afraid you don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “The added muscle tissue makes the wound channels deeper than could be attributed to the additional size alone.”

  Jerry nodded his understanding. He said, “It’s like a more heavily muscled man can chop an axe deeper into wood than a weaker man, even if they weigh the same.”

  “That’s actually a pretty good analogy,” she said, smiling in approval of his comprehension. Then, frowning, she added, “But the worst of the side effects is the increased aggression, and when these cats get hungry, they get extremely aggressive.”

  “Then the worst case scenario is that people will feed this food to their pets and over a period of months, the animals will become super sized, more aggressive, and begin to turn on their owners?”

  “Or worse, their owner’s small children,” she amended. “They’d be a threat to adults, and that’s a bad scenario in and of itself. But the worst case scenario is that they’d begin to attack infants and toddlers,” Patricia explained.

  “Oh hell. I hadn’t even thought of that possibility.”

  “Don’t trust those cats,” Patricia warned. “I know they’re scheduled to be euthanized tomorrow, but if you have to go inside the containment room with them, be careful. Make sure they’ve recently been fed. They’re most dangerous when they’re hungry, and thanks to the appetite enhancer, they’re hungry most of the time,” Patricia explained.

  “Wouldn’t their appetite return to normal if you took them off the food? I mean, why kill them, when you can just change to another food source. Is Talbot overreacting?” asked Jerry.

  “No, and no he isn’t,” Patricia stated. Frowning, she said, “What I’m about to tell you next is dangerous information. Dangerous, because if Talbot finds out you know, he’ll have you fired.”

  Jerry nodded gravely. “Go ahead and tell me. I want to know the truth,” he stated.

  “Alright, I’ll tell you, but remember my warning,” she admonished.

  “I will,” he promised.

  “We tried taking them off the food when they began exhibiting aberrant behavior. We substituted another Alcorn brand. That’s when Jennifer was attacked. The cats all went into a rage and began attacking anything within their reach. One of the midsized cats was attempting to kill the smallest. Jennifer rushed in and pulled the small cat’s cage away from the other cage. The cat turned on her. It thrust both front legs through the bars of its cage and grabbed her forearm, trying to pull it toward its mouth. After that event, we reconfigured the cages as they are today. Prior to that, the cages had been in close proximity of each other. Now of course, they are spaced in a way that no animal can possibly reach another. I reported it to Talbot immediately, and he issued a gag order. I couldn’t even tell Fred and George and they have to go inside and deal with the specimens. Oh, they know that Jennifer was clawed, but as far as they know, it was an unfortunate accident.”

  “So if the cats that have been eating the food can’t get it, suddenly they turn into little monsters? Patricia, that sounds like a cheap horror movie plot.”

  “Yeah, well in this case, the truth is stranger than fiction,”
she said somberly.

  “How long would it take for this food to produce the aggressive behavior?” Jerry asked.

  “My best guess would be several weeks. A lot depends on the individual animal. Their weight, age, and temperament all play a role. Then there are the owner-controlled aspects, such as quantity of food supplied. Many owners will overfeed the cats, because they’ll be indicating their hunger. Overfeeding will lead to a more rapid onset of the negative side effects.”

  “One last question. Why doesn’t Talbot care?”

  “He doesn’t believe that the problem will be traceable to Alcorn. He knows the appetite enhancer will guarantee a boost in sales, as well as the growth hormone. People will think they’ve found an ideal food for their cats and stock up. He may be right. The documentation I signed off on didn’t list the ingredients, so on paper, there won’t be a trace,” Patricia explained.

  Jerry took another sip of his beer and sat it down on the table. He stood up and said, “Thanks for the beer, and for the conversation.” He almost asked her out, but knew that if he did he would lose his job.

  Patricia stood to escort him to the door. She said. “I enjoyed the visit. I’d invite you to come back sometime, but I realize you can’t.”

  “I’ll remember your warnings,” he said in the awkward silence that followed.

  Chapter 3

  Alcorn Pet Food Corporation was situated on Wilkinson Street. It was one of several companies constructed in an industrial park. The facility was located at the end of the dead end street on the left. A section of woods, better than one hundred yards long, separated Alcorn from the nearest factory. Those woodlands wrapped around the company, and then continued north for several miles. Therefore, even though the site was within a mile of one of the busiest streets in the city, it was also isolated.

  It was dark in the section of the parking lot where George parked his car. No security lights illuminated that section, which was why he had chosen to park there.

  The two activists made their way to the sidewalk, and then proceeded at a leisurely pace toward the production facility. Instead of walking in the employee entrance, they continued to follow the sidewalk to the left. They walked around the plant until they reached the small back entrance. They followed a sidewalk that led up a slight incline to the fence that separated the factory from the corporate headquarters. George’s purloined card key worked flawlessly on the gate lock, and soon they were on their way to the door with the misaligned camera.