by Ricky Sides
The young man had spent a frustrating morning. None of the areas that usually yielded a rabbit or two had been productive. He was just about to call Rex to him and call it a day, when the beagle began to bay, which was a sure sign that he was on a scent. Within moments, Rex flushed a large rabbit from the edge of the woods. The rabbit ran along the edge of the forest. Johnny calmly tracked it, remembering to lead it a bit, and then he fired his shotgun. The rabbit, hit by the shot, tumbled to a stop near the edge of the woods.
Rex recovered the animal and brought it back to Johnny. Squatting beside the hound, the hunter took the rabbit and placed it in the carrying pouch built into the back of his hunting vest. “Good, boy,” he said to Rex and petted the animal in order to let him know he had done a good job.
The hound wagged its tail and licked Johnny’s hand. Eager to please his friend, the dog then turned once more to the hunt. Soon they had bagged two more rabbits, and Johnny was beginning to think they would have a good day of hunting after all. Then Rex caught a scent he didn’t like. Facing the forest, he growled and began to back away with his tail between his legs.
Johnny saw the dog’s odd behavior and thought that something dangerous must be in the woods. He raised his shotgun, prepared to shoot if a dangerous animal emerged, but he relaxed when a calico cat stepped from the foliage, and laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a cat,” he said to the dog. Then, along the edge of the woods to the left and right of the first cat, four others stepped into view. They quickly moved to encircle the dog, but Rex broke through their closing circle and ran back to Johnny. Beside his master, the dog turned to face the cats and began to growl.
“Go home, cats!” Johnny shouted. He was confused by their behavior, but didn’t perceive them to be a threat. However, the cats didn’t leave. They stared resolutely at the dog. Their tails were erect and curved and the hair was bristled. One of the animals strode purposefully toward the dog. “I said go home!” Johnny shouted again, and this time he took two steps toward the felines.
The cat that had been approaching the dog stopped, laid its ears back, and hissed at Johnny. The hunter observed the unusually large size of the felines for the first time. However, before he could decide what to do about the cats, his dog launched itself at the animal he thought was about to attack his master.
Johnny stared helplessly for several seconds as the cat mauled his dog. The cat’s claws were slashing at the hound with such frenzy that the hunter couldn’t even follow a good many of the strikes. Belatedly, Johnny reacted by charging the combatants with the intentions of separating them, but the other four felines moved to stand between the man and the dog.
Desperate to save his dog, Johnny fired a shot into the air. The sound startled the cats and they raced into the woods. The hunter knelt beside his dog. The animal was whimpering in pain. The cat’s claws had ruptured one of its eyes, and ichor was running down the dog’s face. Multitudes of claw wounds were evident. Johnny correctly suspected that the worst were the wounds to the dog’s belly. He quickly stripped off his hunting vest, casting it aside. Then he took off his coat and finally his flannel shirt. As gently as he could, he wrapped the shirt around the dog’s back and stomach, forming a makeshift bandage.
Quickly, the hunter threw on his coat, and then he pondered his dilemma for a moment. He needed to get back to his car to get his dog home where his grandfather might be able to save the animal. He had often regaled Johnny with tales of his hunting days when it was common for his dogs to receive serious injuries and how he had nursed them back to health. He glanced at the woods and saw some of the cats peering at him from the foliage.
“They must have rabies,” Johnny thought. He then realized that he wouldn’t be able to carry the dog and use his shotgun to defend them. Then he had an idea. Johnny grabbed his hunting vest and pulled one of the rabbits from it. He threw it into the edge of the woods. He saw the cats disappear, but a moment later, they appeared beside the rabbit and fell on it in a feeding frenzy. “That’s it! That’s the answer!” Johnny thought. He quickly threw the remainder of the rabbits into the area where the cats were feeding.
Working quickly, but as gently as he could, the hunter worked his hound into the carrying pouch. It was a tight fit, and the hound’s head was hanging out, but Johnny thought he could carry Rex in the vest. That would free his hands to defend them.
He quickly put on the vest. Rex whimpered as his body collided with Johnny’s back. “Sorry, boy, but we’ve got to get out of here,” Johnny said as he buttoned his hunting vest to keep it from sliding off as he ran for the car. He remembered to reload his shotgun. He was tempted to shoot the cats, but he still wasn’t certain that they had rabies, and killing five cats could land him in trouble with the law, so Johnny began to run toward the place where he had parked his car.
For most of the trip, he would be in the open field. He would have to cross a narrow band of forest to get to the access road and his car, but after that, he would be in the open once more. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw no sign of pursuit and felt relieved.
He continued to run. The bitterly cold air did little to cool him. Soon, his exertions had him sweating profusely beneath the heavily insulated winter garments. Glancing back once more, he still saw no sign of pursuit, so he slowed his pace.
A few seconds later, Johnny felt Rex begin to squirm and wriggle in the storage compartment of the vest. At the same time, it felt as though the left side of the vest had suddenly gained weight. Glancing over his left shoulder to see what was amiss; he saw a cat dangling from Rex’s head. The feline had bitten down on the dog’s nose, its forepaws were latched onto the back of Rex’s neck, and its hind claws had found a firm purchase in the back of the canvas vest.
The hunter stopped and tried to bring his shotgun around in order to club the cat, but he found it impossible to reach the feline from that angle. He began unbuttoning the vest with the intentions of laying it on the ground so he could more easily deal with the cat. He had just begun to pull off the hunting vest, when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Spinning to confront the threat, he saw two cats racing toward him, but he thought he had time to drop the vest, deal with the cat attacking Rex, and then take on the two that were charging him.
Johnny dropped the vest, wincing when he thought of the harm that the landing might have done to his already injured dog. He kicked the cat that had a death grip on Rex’s nose, dislodging the animal, which then turned on him savagely.
Jumping back away from the cat, the hunter brought his shotgun to bear on the animal and pulled the trigger. The close range shot literally tore the cat in half, separating its front and rear halves near the front legs.
The hunter broke down the shotgun and reached for a replacement shell. Belatedly, he realized that the shells were in the ammo loops of his vest. He was reaching down for the vest when the first of the two charging cats reached him. It jumped onto his back and began biting and clawing at his neck. In acute pain, Johnny stood straight up. He grabbed the barrel of the shotgun like a club and swung it over his head in an attempt to hit the cat. He struck the animal a glancing blow, but it was enough to dislodge the feline. Spinning around toward the enraged animal, he lashed out with his right boot, kicking it in the chest and sending it tumbling away.
Johnny felt something biting and clawing at his right leg, but it was unable to penetrate the dense weave of the Carhartt hunting pants. Once more, swinging the shotgun like a club, he managed to connect with the cat and knock it away from him.
He spun back to face the other cat, expecting the animal to be charging him again, but the feline had disappeared, and so had his hunting vest.
Looking around desperately, Johnny saw the cat walking backwards toward the woods. It was dragging the vest. “No!” Johnny shouted and ran the ten yards toward the cat. He stomped down on a section of the vest, effectively preventing the feline from dragging it any further. Swinging the shotgun like a baseball bat, he struck the animal in the side
of the head as it let go of the vest, causing it to tumble over onto its side.
Johnny quickly grabbed a handful of shells, jamming them in his pants pockets. He reloaded the shotgun and then spun in a circle looking to see if any of the cats were nearby, but they had all melted away into the woods.
He was reaching down to retrieve the vest when he realized that Rex was gone, and he knew that, at some point during the confrontation, the damned cats had managed to drag his hound away. Off in the woods he heard a single faint yelp, and then nothing. Grabbing the vest, he quickly put it on and then pulled two shells from their loops and held them in his left hand.
He decided to head to his car. He was almost certain that, by now Rex was dead. He wanted to go get his father and grandfather. Together, the three men would be able to deal with the animals that had attacked him and killed his dog.
The battle with the cats had spiked Johnny’s body with adrenaline. He put that to use on the run for his car. No longer burdened by the heavy body of his dog, the hunter was able to reach the entrance to the woods in less than five minutes. He paused before entering the woods. Johnny, an experienced hunter, realized that it would be stupid to enter the woods with his pulse hammering in his ears. He would never hear them coming. Therefore, he would wait until his breathing and heart rate sufficiently slowed so that his senses would serve him well if the cats attacked.
While he waited, he spun in a slow circle with his shotgun leveled for use, but he saw nothing. The woods were deathly silent. He knew that could mean that the cats were there, but it could also mean that his headlong flight to this area had caused the creatures of the woods to go silent.
“Stop scaring yourself,” he said to himself, and then he stepped into the woods as quietly as he could. He had to traverse a narrow section of trees that was about sixty yards wide. The trees were mainly saplings with a mixture of oak, popular, and even cedar scattered throughout the area. Sunlight filtered through the overhead canopy, dappling the fallen leaves with areas of bright light and dark shadows. Such lighting conditions made it difficult for a man to spot game. It was even harder when you were trying to spot small game that was low to the ground.
Moving cautiously through the woods, Johnny heard the sound of leaves rustling. Turning his head, he saw one of the cats crouching on the limb of a tree, not twenty feet away. He snapped the shotgun to his shoulder and fired the moment the stock touched his body. He employed the technique when squirrel hunting, and the skill served him well in this instance. His shot struck the cat full in the chest, knocking it off the limb.
Johnny hastily reloaded his shotgun, and then he proceeded toward his goal. Once he reached his parked car, he would be inside and safe in a matter of moments. However, he would have to proceed slowly. Now he knew he needed to be vigilant at ground level and watch the trees as well.
The aching pains from the bites and scratches on his neck were beginning to distract Johnny. Pausing for a moment, he shifted the shotgun shells in his left hand to his right, as he held the shotgun cradled in his right arm. Reaching to his neck with his left hand, he winced in pain and drew his hand away from the wound. He saw that his hand was covered in blood, and he realized that the wounds must be worse than he had thought.
He wiped his bloody hand on the front of his hunting vest, and transferred the shells back to his left hand. Johnny estimated that he was three-quarters of the way through the woods. He proceeded cautiously, maintaining his vigilance and listening for the slightest sound that would indicate another creature was near.
He spooked a rabbit, which darted away to the north. He almost shot it, but checked his inclination to take the animal. He was getting low on shells. Some had been lost during the struggle with the cats. No doubt, they were on the ground somewhere in that area.
He had only taken a few steps when he heard the unmistakable sound of a wounded rabbit. When wounded, they make a sound very much akin to a baby crying. Johnny knew that something had just attacked the rabbit he had spooked, and the odds were it was one of the cats. “How can they be so hungry?” he wondered. That would make the fourth rabbit, and even one should have filled up the cats he had seen. “Well, I’m almost to the car. Maybe that one will keep their attention while I get away,” he speculated aloud.
Moments later, he broke through the edge of the forest and headed for his car, not twenty feet away. He breathed a sigh of relief when he got inside and closed the door. He was fishing in his pocket for his keys, when a cat landed on the hood of his car, and stared at him.
Johnny shouted in surprise, but then he laughed at himself, because he knew there was no way that the animal could get to him. He was safe inside his car. Then, he remembered that he had left the passenger side window down, because Rex liked to stick his head in the breeze when they were traveling.
He had visions of a cat leaping through the window and attacking him as he leaned across the seat and hastily rolled up the window. When he sat back up, there were three cats staring through his windshield. None of them looked familiar to the hunter. It was as if the woods were full of deranged cats. Johnny dug in his pocket for his keys once more. Moments later, he started his engine and shifted the car into drive. He blew the horn and the cats, startled by the blaring noise, scattered.
The road leading to the hunting area was a simple dirt road. Seldom used, it was only a set of dirt paths with grass growing between them. It took a meandering path around several natural obstacles. He drove at a seeming snails pace, never exceeding twenty miles per hour. This was necessary to avoid some of the larger potholes and washed out sections of the road. It also prevented the car from bottoming out on the uneven surface.
As he was driving to the main highway, Johnny felt hungry. He reached to his right for the paper sack in which he had brought half a fried chicken that he and Rex could share at their leisure, after the hunt. His hand fell on the bag, but it was empty.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed. He picked up the sack and held it out to examine. He could readily see the tears where claws had shredded the greasy paper, and then a slow comprehension dawned in his terrified eyes. He felt something licking the back of his bloody neck, and then he felt something clamp down hard with its teeth. Johnny screamed and reached back with both hands, trying to rip the cat away, but he couldn’t quite reach it. He pressed down with both feet, striving to get the leverage needed to reach the animal. His right foot was on the gas pedal. When he pressed down, the car accelerated at a rapid rate. Distracted by the attacking feline, Johnny never saw the ancient oak tree he was rapidly approaching. His old dodge sedan smashed head-on into the tree at forty miles per hour.
Johnny’s head was slammed into the windshield, rendering him unconscious. The driver’s side window shattered. The impact had dislodged and thrown the cat that had been attacking Johnny to the floorboard of the car. It resumed its attack. Soon several other felines joined it when they leaped into the vehicle. Johnny Miller never regained consciousness.
Chapter 5
“And I say you’re out of your damned mind!” she angrily exclaimed. “Look, I was fully aware of Patricia’s findings. I’m her assistant. That’s my job.”
“You were her assistant. She no longer works for Alcorn,” Rusty said in agitation.
“And that’s her loss?” the young woman asked, then laughed. “That woman was at the top of her graduating class. How long do you think she’ll remain unemployed? Do you have any idea how many job offers she’s turned down during her employment here?”
Rusty didn’t answer Jennifer’s questions. In a menacing tone of voice, he said, “Unless you were at the top of your class, I suggest you start cooperating with this investigation.”
“I have. I’ve answered all of your questions from all the varied angles you’ve worked into your interrogation, but you want something I won’t give you, because it’s not true. I have no reason to believe that Patricia had anything whatsoever to do with the release of the animals, but I have ever
y reason to believe she would have fought to prevent it if she had been present. Better than most, she understands the threat those specimens pose to the community. But I’ve yet to hear anything about it on the news. Tell me, sir, have you informed the police and the media that these cats pose a threat to the safety of the people of this community?”
Rusty snapped. He’d had enough of Jennifer’s arrogant tones. “Say one more word. Just one, young lady, and I’ll fire you for insubordination.”
“Fire me then,” Jennifer said angrily, “At least that’ll free me to do the right thing. My first stop will be the police station. My second will be the radio station and my third will be the local newspaper. So you do what you gotta do, Talbot. I’ve had enough of this crap.”
Talbot used the same threat he’d used when he’d dealt with Patricia. “Say one word and we’ll sue you for violating the NDA. We’ll win too, and then where will you be?”
“Paragraph thirteen, subsection B states that no part of the agreement can constrain an employee from revealing information that would prevent a criminal act, result in the death or serious injury to anyone, or otherwise be adverse to the public safety. I’ll take my chances, and I’m confident I’ll win.”
***
Jennifer sat down heavily at her desk. She was tired, and more than a little angry. She had just endured a two hour grilling regarding the breach in security and subsequent release of the test specimens. She had known early during the interrogation that what Talbot wanted was for her to accuse Patricia of complicity. He was looking for a scapegoat.
Fred had been through a similar ordeal that same morning. He had walked out of the meeting and quit as a result. She suspected that Talbot had been hoping she would quit as well, but she wasn’t about to do that. If they terminated her, she got a severance package. It was in her contract, just as it was in Patricia’s. However, Fred didn’t have that incentive, because he was an hourly worker.
