Super Cats

by Gwyneth Rees

  ‘Let’s go and find them,’ Tagg suggested as his tummy grumbled loudly. ‘I know they told us to wait but I’m starving!’

  They left the dressing room and soon found an open door. In front of them was another stretch of dry wasteland, but here there were several outbuildings in various stages of disrepair. They couldn’t see their mothers or any other sign of movement.

  ‘You don’t think they forgot we were here and went home without us, do you?’ Tagg murmured nervously.

  ‘Of course not,’ Sugarfoot said, trying to sound more confident than she felt as she stepped out on to the exposed piece of land, breaking into a run as Tagg joined her.

  They stopped abruptly as the grey wall of the first outbuilding loomed above them. There was no sign of Melody or Glamour as the two young cats gingerly approached the entrance, sniffing at the ground to check for their mothers’ familiar scents.

  Suddenly, they heard a high-pitched feline cry. It sounded like it came from the next building along.

  His heart thumping, Tagg raced as fast as he could towards the sound, with Sugarfoot close at his heels. He turned a corner and there, collapsed on the dusty ground between the buildings, was Melody, blood gushing from a long gash on her side.

  ‘Mum!’ Tagg rushed to help her but froze when he realised how quickly the blood was flowing.

  ‘N … N … N …’ she rasped, looking at him with glazed eyes before passing out.

  Thankfully, Tagg and Sugarfoot weren’t the only ones who had heard Melody scream. Within seconds, Glamour was racing towards them.

  ‘We didn’t see what happened but she’s bleeding really badly,’ Tagg burst out in a shaky voice.

  Glamour gave a startled mew as she took in the scene. Then she hunched down next to Melody, her belly almost touching the ground as she began to lick at the wound.

  ‘It won’t stop bleeding. The cut is too deep,’ Tagg whispered, turning away to hide his face in Sugarfoot’s side.

  ‘It’s OK – look,’ Sugarfoot whispered softly in his ear. She butted his head gently to force him to look back at Melody.

  Tagg looked and immediately saw that Glamour’s lick was no ordinary one. The cat’s pink tongue was now shining gold and sparkling, and as she licked the wound the blood flow slowed. After a few minutes Glamour stood back and Tagg saw that the bleeding had stopped and the wound had healed over.

  ‘Mum’s superpower is turning liquids to solids with her tongue,’ Sugarfoot explained. ‘She has a super lick!’

  ‘It’s a very odd superpower,’ Glamour added, her tongue now small and pink again. ‘But sometimes it’s extremely useful. Come on. We have to get her to a vet. She’s still very weak.’

  They took Melody to the house of a human vet who was known for being both kind and good at her job, and as a consequence she frequently found injured cats on her doorstep. Tagg and Sugarfoot watched from across the road as she responded to Glamour’s high-pitched mewing and opened her front door.

  ‘Come on,’ Sugarfoot whispered, sounding relieved. ‘Let’s go back to your place. Mum will stay with her.’

  * * *

  ‘Uncle Bill – WAKE UP!’ Tagg called as he pushed in through the draughty cat flap, Sugarfoot behind him.

  Wild Bill must have been in the middle of a very vivid dream because he leaped up with the energy of a cat half his age, yelling, ‘Show yourself, you dirty varmint, or I’ll snap you in two!’

  ‘Wait! It’s only me, Uncle Bill,’ Tagg quickly reassured him.

  ‘Cor blimey, I can’t be jumping up like that at my age. What were you thinking, lad?’

  ‘Sorry, but I have to tell you something …’ Tagg began. ‘Another super cat went missing at the concert! Mum and Glamour were searching for him when Mum was attacked.’

  Wild Bill was sitting right up now. ‘Attacked? Who attacked her?’

  ‘We don’t know. She passed out so she couldn’t tell us anything. We saved her and took her to the vet.’ Tagg’s voice cracked. ‘Where’s Dad? We need him to come back. Can we get a message to him?’

  Wild Bill looked thoughtful. ‘He’ll be back soon, I expect, but until then you’ll just have to tackle this without him.’

  ‘Tackle this how?’ Tagg asked. ‘It’s not like I’m super strong like Rowdy and Dad!’ He’d thought about telling Rowdy what had happened and asking him for help but he was too scared to go back to the factory to find him. He also felt a bit uneasy that Rowdy worked for Nemesissy. There was something about the Siamese super cat that just didn’t feel right to him.

  ‘Super strength isn’t everything, lad,’ Uncle Bill told him. ‘And no super cat is invincible, just you remember that! It’s why we have to combine our different powers and all work together.’

  ‘Yes, but Sugarfoot and I don’t have our superpowers yet,’ Tagg pointed out, feeling frustrated. ‘And since you’ve lost yours …’ He trailed off. He didn’t want to hurt his great-uncle’s feelings, but quite frankly he didn’t think they made much of a team.

  HAMISH AND THE HIT CATS

  The next morning Sugarfoot was following several paces behind Tagg as he led the way to the alley where he’d once seen Hamish.

  ‘I can go on my own. You don’t have to come,’ Tagg told Sugarfoot, sensing that she was nervous.

  ‘No, I’m coming with you,’ she said with determination. ‘I just don’t think it’s your brightest idea, that’s all. I mean, what if they catch us spying on them?’

  ‘We won’t let them! Don’t worry, Sugarfoot, we’ll be great at this! We both come from secret-agent families, remember! Spying on baddies is in our blood!’

  Tagg suddenly remembered how, whenever he was spying on birds in the garden, they always seemed to sense his presence and fly away. Still … he told himself firmly … birds were stupid creatures that were very easily spooked.

  They were approaching the alley when Sugarfoot noticed a sign pinned to a lamppost above their heads. She jumped up on to a garden wall to take a closer look. ‘Oh no!’

  ‘What is it?’ Tagg quickly joined her and saw that it was a ‘missing’ poster for a black cat. The picture looked new and glossy, as if it had only just been put up.

  Seeing the panic in Sugarfoot’s eyes he attempted to reassure her. ‘It probably isn’t a super cat. Cats go missing all the time. It might have got lost or shut in somewhere.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Sugarfoot answered gloomily. ‘Right. Let’s get this over with.’ She jumped off the wall and bounded along ahead of him until they reached the entrance to the alley. ‘You’re sure this is it?’

  ‘Positive. Follow me.’

  The alley led to a dead end, where a tall wooden fence barred their way. Tagg wasn’t sure if he could jump that high. He tried to calculate exactly how tall it was and compare that with the highest leap he’d so far managed, which was from the floor on to the top of the mantelpiece at home. (The humans hadn’t been too pleased when he’d skidded across the top, knocking off two china ornaments and a vase of flowers.)

  I can do this, Tagg told himself sternly. He shuffled back a little, swung his hindquarters to prepare for the leap, and with fear fuelling his back legs and rushing through his whole body, he jumped. His hind legs scraped the top of the fence, but he cleared it and landed with a thud in a pile of muddy leaves.

  Made it … but Sugarfoot won’t … I’ll have to do this alone, he thought.

  ‘A bit of a noisy landing!’ came a chirpy voice very close to his ear. ‘Your stealth skills need some work if you’re going to make it as a spy!’

  ‘What?’ Tagg was startled to see Sugarfoot sitting beside him, waiting patiently for him to recover.

  ‘There’s a hole in the bottom of the fence,’ she explained with a cheeky grin.

  Tagg scowled as he licked some moss from the fence off his fur. ‘Then why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I only found it after you’d jumped. I think it’s a secret cat flap. Probably made by Hamish’s gang. Come on – I’ll show you. Y
ou might not feel like making that jump on the way back!’ she teased.

  But before either of them could move, they heard a noise of wood scraping as a large tortoiseshell cat pushed its way through the makeshift cat flap. Luckily, it didn’t notice them sitting completely still in the leaves. The cat seemed intent on getting to wherever it was heading because it looked neither right nor left as it ploughed straight through the long grass.

  ‘Let’s follow it,’ Tagg whispered. ‘Maybe it will lead us to Hamish’s den.’

  They set off as quietly as they could, following at a safe distance behind the tortoiseshell cat on what turned out to be a trek through some overgrown gardens, until they reached a narrower alley, much muddier and weedier than the first.

  After they’d trotted a short distance, Tagg spotted the first sign. It was an old plank of wood on which some sharp claws had carved out a message for other cats in bold scratch marks. It said:

  HAMISH’S HITS THIS WAY!*

  Following the sign they entered a narrow tunnel in a hedge, and it struck Tagg as strange that there was no evidence of any living creatures other than themselves and the cat they were following. A little way further along they spotted another sign propped up against a tree trunk. This one read:

  SPECIAL AUTUMN OFFER!

  TAKE AN ENEMY OUT FOR HALF PRICE!

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Tagg wondered aloud. ‘Take them out where?’

  Sugarfoot snorted in amusement. ‘It’s hit-cat slang! “Take an enemy out” means “kill them”!’

  Tagg tried not to look shocked. ‘I knew that,’ he mumbled.

  They passed two more signs scratched on to tree trunks. One read: SECRECY GUARANTEED, and the other: DISPOSAL OF BODY EXTRA. The prices were given in two types of currency – fresh mice or iced fish – and there were several package deals.

  ‘Quick – someone’s coming!’ Sugarfoot hissed. She dived into the bushes, closely followed by Tagg.

  Through a gap in the leaves he could see two adult cats walking towards them – a fat white one and the large tortoiseshell tom they’d been following.

  ‘Thirty mice? How does he think I’m going to catch that many?’ the tortie was grumbling in a very loud voice.

  ‘You heard the boss. He doesn’t care how.’

  ‘Speak up. I told you my hearing’s not what it used to be!’

  ‘YOU HAD YOUR HALF-PRICE HIT AND NOW YOU HAVE TO PAY THE FULL AMOUNT! WE’RE NOT A CHARITY!’ shouted the white cat.

  ‘I’ll give you charity! Hamish is greedy. His quote is too expensive,’ complained the tortie angrily.

  ‘It’s danger money!’ replied the white cat. Seeing the tortie looking baffled, he repeated, ‘DANGER MONEY! We’ve bumped off SIX cats for you in the past year! It’s like Hamish told you – it gets RISKIER each time we go back to the same place!’

  ‘A simple poisoning is all I’m asking for this time. Or whatever else you like, so long as it happens while I’m sitting on my old girl’s lap, so she doesn’t suspect me.’

  The white cat lowered his voice and leaned in very close to the deaf tortie’s ear. ‘Listen, why don’t you wait and see if you feel differently about this new cat after a few weeks? It’s not like you’ve given the last six much of a chance, is it? Maybe the old human only fusses over them so much because they’re new.’

  The tortie only grumbled as he left through the hole in the hedge.

  Sugarfoot nudged Tagg with her wet nose and they exchanged a look.

  As the white cat turned to go, Tagg stood on an especially crinkly leaf. Instantly, the cat’s two white ears pricked up and its head turned towards their bush. Tagg’s heart felt ready to leap out of his chest, and one look at Sugarfoot’s bushed-up tail told him that she was also getting ready to bolt. But just at that moment there came more loud rustling from the hedge tunnel.

  ‘Marshmallow, what’s taking so long?’ came a thick Scottish miaow as an enormous brown-spotted tomcat with orange eyes came into view. This one looked like a cat who had been in a lot of fights. His ears were ragged and he had a scar down one side of his face.

  ‘Hamish!’ The white cat greeted his boss.

  Tagg nearly fell out of the bush and Sugarfoot quickly choked back a mew of surprise.

  ‘I was just getting rid of Daft Derek. Well, not “getting rid of” in that way, just—’

  ‘Daft Derek deserves to be got rid of in that way,’ Hamish interrupted, sounding irritated. ‘Maybe then he’d finally stop complaining.’

  Marshmallow snorted loudly. Then he said something that made Tagg’s ears stand to attention. ‘So, have you seen Nemesissy yet?’

  Hamish gave a dismissive spit. ‘Fruitcakes, her and her human! I saw them unloading more stuff last night … no beds or cat baskets, just a load of laboratory equipment. Carried it all in by torchlight – well, the human did. The Siamese just sat there eating a kipper and watching him do all the work!’

  ‘What sort of laboratory equipment?’ Marshmallow asked curiously.

  ‘Glass bottles and jars and some kind of glass incubator with tubes coming out of it. There were empty cages too – and one with a cover over it.’

  ‘Do you think there were animals in that one?’

  ‘Probably … rodents, most likely. Hey, we’d better warn the gang not to eat any little furry bodies they find anywhere around here – who knows what poisons those lunatics have injected into them.’

  Tagg was so distracted that he forgot where he was for a second. When he felt an itch on his neck, he automatically lifted his back leg to scratch it. The motion caused the bush to rustle.

  ‘What was that?’ Hamish hissed, and two seconds later he thrust his head into the bush where they were hiding.

  Tagg and Sugarfoot yowled in fright as they found themselves face to face with the scariest, meanest-looking cat they had ever seen.

  Run, Tagg tried to shout to Sugarfoot, but no words came out.

  Hamish looked like a small panther as he brought his huge terrifying face even closer to theirs and gave a warning hiss.

  ‘SPIES!’ he growled. ‘Get out here, you wee pests! Come out where I can see you!’

  Tagg was rooted to the spot, too terrified to move. He felt Sugarfoot trembling against him.

  ‘Don’t make me come in there and drag you out!’ roared Hamish.

  ‘Allow me, boss,’ said Marshmallow, nudging his way forward into the leafy bush and grabbing Tagg deftly by the scruff of his neck. Tagg yelped as he was dumped right under Hamish’s nose.

  His legs felt like jelly as Hamish glared at him fiercely. ‘What are you doing here? Who put you up to this?’

  ‘N-n-no one,’ Tagg managed to stammer. ‘We just … we just …’

  ‘You’re just trespassing on my land, you wee hooligan!’ Hamish flexed his long claws with each word. They weren’t super claws but they looked about as lethal as ordinary claws could get. ‘You’d better tell me the truth – and quick!’

  Tagg’s mind was blank and his throat felt like it was paralysed.

  ‘Don’t worry, kids,’ Marshmallow said cheerily, as he rudely dumped Sugarfoot beside Tagg. ‘We hardly ever kill kittens. But if we do, we offer our super expensive “quick and painless” service. The boss is a big softie at heart!’

  ‘W-we’re looking for a cat called Flash,’ Tagg blurted. ‘He’s gone missing. Someone told us that you might’ve … might’ve …’

  ‘And what’s it to you if we have?’ Hamish hissed crossly.

  ‘He’s my dad!’ Sugarfoot cried out indignantly. ‘He’s been missing for two days and … and …’ She shuddered, unable to go on.

  Marshmallow stared at her in surprise. ‘We’ve had no work at all in the past fortnight, have we, boss?’

  Hamish’s voice took on a grumbly tone as he said, ‘That’s the way it is in this business. No work for weeks, then they all come at once, like … like …’

  ‘Baby birds, boss?’ his companion suggested.

  ‘Exac
tly!’ Hamish glared at them suddenly. ‘But why did you come here? Who told you about us?’

  ‘Nemesissy,’ Sugarfoot blurted out.

  ‘Nemesissy!’ Hamish let out another dismissive spit. ‘And you believed her? Just how do you two know her exactly?’

  ‘My brother is one of her bodyguards,’ Tagg answered.

  ‘Really?’ Hamish’s eyes had narrowed. ‘Well, tell your brother if he’s got any sense he’ll resign and find himself a more level-headed boss – like me! I wouldn’t trust Nemesissy as far as I could throw her. NOW SCRAM!’

  Tagg and Sugarfoot didn’t need to be told twice. They took off as fast as they could, scrambling away through the undergrowth before Hamish could change his mind.

  * * *

  They finally stopped running, completely out of breath, when they reached the makeshift cat flap that led back to the alley. Just as they were about to go through it they heard big paws pounding the woodland floor behind them. They looked at each other in fright. What now?

  It was Marshmallow. ‘Don’t panic. I’m not here to hurt you,’ he miaowed as he saw their startled faces. Lowering his voice to a much fainter mew, he continued, ‘Listen, there’s something Hamish didn’t tell you … Nemesissy came to see him before she moved here. She wanted us to get rid of a cat colony that was already living in the factory … but she said our price was too high and that she’d take care of it herself. And nobody’s seen those cats since. Just don’t underestimate her, that’s all. She’s even more dangerous than Hamish.’ He looked directly into Tagg’s eyes as he added, ‘You might want to warn Rowdy.’

  And before either Tagg or Sugarfoot could respond, he disappeared back into the bushes.

  ‘You never told him your brother was called Rowdy,’ Sugarfoot murmured.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You just said your brother was Nemesissy’s bodyguard. You didn’t mention his name.’ She paused. ‘So how come Marshmallow knows it?’