by Mark Tufo
“If I weren’t so tired I’d stick a claw in those gums of yours, you slob,” Patches said right as she slid into a peaceful sleep. She awoke a couple of hours later, Ben-Ben’s nose was touching her head, his hot expelled breath blowing in her ear and down her neck. She was on the verge of telling him off, but when he spoke first, his words nearly froze her.
“Someone’s in the house.”
Patches was immediately awake, her small heart beating quickly. She listened intently. She may have better reflexes, be more agile and see better at night, but the stupid dog could hear and smell better than she could. She hated to have to rely on him but she could hear nothing, she would have to take his word on it. She could just make out the fur on Ben-Ben’s back beginning to bristle.
“Human?” Patches asked.
“No,” he answered coldly.
“Animal?”
“No.”
“Do they know I’m... we’re here?”
“Not yet.”
“We need to leave.” Patches hopped down off the bed and winced as Ben-Ben followed - not nearly as graceful and twice as loud. “Next time see if you can knock something over.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Shh.” She went out of the room and to the top of the stairs. She could hear something moving around down there but from where she was she could not see anything. The smell that wafted up was almost a physical entity, something strong enough to strike her down. She had a strange momentary pang of pain for the dog who was experiencing the pungent odor more than herself. She turned back around to check on his status. Ben-Ben was standing at the doorway to the room. “Come on!” she told him.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to go down there.”
“They’ll come up here eventually.”
“Maybe if we’re real quiet they won’t notice.”
“And if not, we’ll be trapped. Come on Ben-Ben.”
He reluctantly walked over to her. Patches turned back and looked down the stairs. A zombie was staring back at her.
“Too late!” she yelled, and sprang back down the hallway leaving a dumbfounded Ben-Ben to wonder what was going on. It only took the first footfall on stairs for him to realize what she was talking about.
Ben-Ben came into the room. “Patches!”
“Under the bed, hurry up!”
The zombie was rapidly climbing the stairs as Ben-Ben tried to shove his head between the bed frame and floor. “I ron’t rit,” he said with his muzzle squished.
Patches pushed his face away, partly because he was going to give her away but partly because the dog would keep trying to get under and he obviously wasn’t going to fit. By the time he figured that out, the zombie would have chewed through his hindquarters.
Ben-Ben got the hint when Patches stuck him with one claw in his sensitive snout.
“Ow, Patches that hurt.”
“Go hide!” she hissed.
The bed moved slightly as she realized Ben-Ben had jumped up onto the bed. She was going to tell him to look for someplace better when she saw the feet of the zombie at the doorway. She thought she would be able to get away while the zombie was busy eating the dog. The zombie was not moving, wasn’t doing much of anything actually, and then she heard him sniffing. He was sampling the air. He knew something was here, and he would not leave until he found it. One foot shuffled in closer, Patches inched backwards. The zombie moved all the way in. His feet were now halfway under the bed.
‘How can he not see the dog?’ she thought. The bed moved violently as the zombie tossed things around. She crawled to the edge. She would make a run for it the moment Ben-Ben squealed in pain. That was her plan right up until another set of feet appeared at the doorway. She moved back again. The other zombie came in, apparently to see what his travel buddy was up to and to make sure he wasn’t eating anything by himself and not sharing.
Patches stopped moving when she heard the muffled barking of Ben-Ben who must have been under the covers. Both sets of zombie feet were now in front of her; they shuffled back and forth as they tried to get the food that was maddeningly scurrying around. Patches was startled as Ben-Ben landed to the side of her.
“That was fun!” he said as he looked around. When he saw Patches he told her, “Hi, watch this!” He then ran around to the back of the zombies. His mouth opened up in a savage grimace and he sank his teeth deep into the back of the zombie’s leg, below the calf and above the back of the foot. He shook his head vigorously and then dug his paws into the rug as he pulled back. A wet popping sound was immediately followed by Ben-Ben falling over, a small piece of white flesh in his mouth. He quickly spat it out and darted out of the way. The zombie he had bitten was now falling over. Its head landed with a heavy thunk as it collided with the floor. It seemed relatively uninjured, and now that it saw new prey, it reached its hands under the bed in an effort to get to Patches.
“Come on cat, the other one hasn’t figured out what’s going on!” Ben-Ben yipped. Patches was afraid to move, those cold eyes were upon her. If he caught her there would be no mild beating like the humans sometimes did, but rather a slow and torturous death by consumption. “Patches! The other one is wearing heavy fake feet, I don’t think I’ll be able to do the same thing - we have to go!” Ben-Ben entreated.
“Go!” Patches hissed.
“Not without you. I am not leaving anyone else behind, EVER! Come on!”
Patches low-crawled past the outstretched fingers of the zombie, who watched her as she moved out from under his following eyes. The other zombie was getting on his knees in an attempt to see what the other was trying to get. Patches and Ben-Ben were halfway down the stairs when they heard the groans of frustration.
“That was close,” Ben-Ben said when they got out of the house and had made a run for it. They were now a safe distance away, looking back.
“Th-thank you,” Patches said, the words not coming easily. She thought it a victory she’d been able to get them out at all. “What did you do?”
“Something Riley showed me. She said zombies already have a hard time walking because they only have two legs. Remove a small piece from the back of their leg and they fall over!”
“Who knew you were going to be useful? We should get going.” Patches had mustered all the gratitude she could for one evening. It was easier to keep moving rather than keep talking.
Chapter Three
ThornGrip had taken matters into her own hands the next morning. She knew exactly where Mabel stored the cereal and she had deftly opened the small food room door to get at it. She’d finished three boxes before Mabel had awoken and come in to the sound of her heavy crunching.
“Oh, so now you’re just helping yourself? Get out of my pantry!” she berated her.
“Does she not realize that I am nearly four times her size? I am the ruler of the woods!” ThornGrip roared.
Mabel hit her with a straw ended stick. “Get out! You’re making a mess!”
ThornGrip retreated, I laughed at her. “Apparently this isn’t the woods.”
“I guess not,” ThornGrip snuffed, trying to regain her pride. “Are you ready to go? I fear I will unleash my wrath upon the human if we do not leave soon.”
“Yes, I do believe you were getting the better of her.”
“She is an unnatural being.” ThornGrip stepped back as Mabel shook her stick her way.
“You two want out?” Harold asked, going to the front door. This was our ritual in the morning, at least after I told ThornGrip that eliminating her waste inside was frowned upon. The male two-legger had nearly vomited three times, having to pick up the amazing specimen. I’m not entirely sure but it looked roughly the size of Ben-Ben. I missed the little dog but that didn’t make me want to get any closer to ThornGrip’s waste.
Harold stood on the porch and watched like he was wont to do. I hid behind a bush and took care of what needed to be taken care of. ThornGrip was right in the front, in a clearing. She cared not that everyone co
uld see, in fact, I think she was proud of it.
“I have left a little something for them to remember me by.”
“We’re coming back.”
“We will see which way the river winds Riley,” she said, as she looked off into the distance.
I turned and barked ‘thanks’ to Harold for all he had done for us. I wish I could tell him what we were up to. He would most likely think we were leaving for good, and if by chance ThornGrip’s river did unwind away from here, he would never know the reason why we left.
“Hey wait!” Harold called. “Where are you going? Stop. Riley, please, where are you going?”
“To find a way home.” Maybe he understood, maybe he didn’t, but he stopped halfway across the yard and looked at us.
“Good luck.” He waved.
Now it was Mabel’s turn. She’d heard her husband yelling and came out to see what was going on. “Wait! Harold where are they going? Stop them!” she pleaded.
“I’m not sure how you expect me to do that,” he told her.
“Bear, I’m sorry! You can have all the cereal I promise!” she wailed. “Harold is even going to get more, aren’t you Harold?”
“I don’t think that is what this is about,” he told her.
“Tell them!” She reared on him.
“Fine, I’m going to get more cereal should you come back!”
ThornGrip bellowed her approval back.
“She said thank you.” Harold seemed to be questioning himself.
“How do you know? You don’t even know when I’m hinting for an anniversary gift and now all of a sudden you’re the bear-whisperer?”
“It’s the ‘calm’ you were talking about, I... I think they’re going to try and find Riley’s home.”
“Oh you know that do you? Stop them, they’ll get hurt out there!”
“I think they’ll be fine, Mabel. Who is going to bother that bear? Good luck!” he shouted.
We were almost out of sight when I turned around. Harold had put a paw around Mabel and was leading her back into the house, her head was upon his shoulder.
“I will miss cereal,” ThornGrip told me. “Maybe I’ll go back when this is all over.”
“Back to the unnatural monster female?”
“Exactly.”
“I think she would like that very much.”
“Of course she would, I am a pleasure to be around.”
“Are you sure there is not a little bit of cat somewhere in your bloodline?”
“I could go back now.”
“Sorry,” I told her as we plunged on. My injuries still ached but it still felt good to be out and walking. To be moving closer to my pack, I had to hope that there was enough of the brave two-legger Alex left that I could bring his small cowhide holder back to Harold, it would have the location to where I needed to go. The next question would be if Mabel would let him do it.
The walking was easy enough, as was the conversation, when it happened. ThornGrip didn’t have much to say as we moved, probably wasn’t used to it, having mostly been on her own. Her thoughts she kept to herself.
“Smell that?” She pulled up, and I nearly walked into her rump.
“I mostly smell bear,” I told her as I backed up. I waited for a moment and took a sampling smell. “Meat, prepared meat.”
“Humans.”
My mouth salivated, I knew the smell well enough, the two-leggers called it salami and Alpha had shared it with me often when he ate it. I didn’t beg but I always made sure I was in his line of sight while he was preparing a sandwich.
ThornGrip’s head was swiveling back and forth as she looked for the two-legger. I was just happy it was not zombies, this I knew because they would have no need for salami.
“I do not see him, they are usually as noisy as bear cubs in a pile of fallen leaves.” ThornGrip was worried, so much so her rear quarters were shaking.
I’d been around enough two-leggers to share in her distress, although unlike her, I still trusted them for the most part.
“We need to leave here.”
“I agree,” I told her. “But we need to figure out where they are before we do so.” Neither of us moved as we kept scanning. It was me who saw him first. I nudged ThornGrip and told her to look up. The man was sitting in a chair about the height of ThornGrip when she stood on her hind legs, up in a tree. We both could clearly see the fire-stick in his lap. He was looking off to the other side, which was good for us.
“Hunter,” ThornGrip said.
“For zombies?”
“Food.” She did not take her gaze from him.
“Do two-leggers eat bears?”
“Yes.” Her unwavering stare was unnerving.
“Let’s go around now that we know where he is.”
“Okay,” she said, finally turning away. ThornGrip took one step as she twisted, this was followed by the loud crack of a stick as she broke it in two. We froze as the hunter’s head turned towards us. We were partially concealed and two-leggers don’t have the best eyesight, but hiding ThornGrip behind a tree was like me hiding behind a few blades of grass.
I started barking profusely and moving away from ThornGrip.
“What are you doing you stupid dog?”
“I am taking his attention away from you. He will not use a metal-bee on me.”
“Two-leggers are worse than animals, they will eat anything!”
“Even dog?”
“Even dog.”
I watched as the hunter raised his fire-stick. I took off just as I heard the loud report of a metal-bee being launched. I darted quickly in and out of trees, metal-bees flew past me and into trees next to me. It was the unearthly roar that made me turn my head. While I was running to get away, ThornGrip had been racing towards the man. She’d stood and swatted her arm out hitting the man and his seat. One of the straps that attached him to the tree had broken and he now hung suspended upside down, the fire-stick lay on the ground out of his reach. He had a wound on his side that did not appear life threatening but certainly painful.
ThornGrip stayed on her back legs for a moment longer then dropped down to all fours, she was now face to face with the man. He was shaking uncontrollably, with the large bear not more than a muzzle length away from him. Her roar tore through the woods, coating the man’s face in a thick layer of saliva. Fear-urine poured from him and dropped to the ground.
“What are you going to do?” I asked her, coming back.
“He would have killed you.”
“I know that.”
“He would have killed me.”
“I know that too.”
“What would you have me do with him?” she asked.
The man was looking wildly back and forth to me and ThornGrip.
“When he gets his fire-stick back he will use it on us,” I told her.
The bear reared up and with her massive front paws came down on the weapon repeatedly until, much like the earlier stick, this one snapped in half.
“Now he will not,” she said triumphantly. She roared one more time into his face, just to make sure that he got the message. She could have killed him but spared his life instead.
We could hear the man crying as we left.
“That will be a lesson he will not soon forget,” ThornGrip said.
“He will forget that lesson, and he was not worthy of receiving it,” I replied. The man had undone the one remaining strap and was now on the ground next to his broken fire-stick. He took something from his side. A pang of alarm ran through me as I realized it was a small fire-stick that he was now aiming in our direction. His arm was shaking heavily as he held out the device towards us.
“Fucking turn around!” he screamed. “Who has the power now!” He laughed maniacally.
“Perhaps it is I that should have learned the lesson. Never trust man.” ThornGrip turned.
“I’m going to blow both of your fucking heads off.” He was wiping away the fluids that poured from his nose and eyes as he cr
ied, the fire-stick still dancing around wildly.
“Do you mean to shoot us or drown us?” ThornGrip asked.
His first shot was nowhere close, I could not tell the path of the bee. The second was much closer. He would not get a third. Zombies had been attracted by all the noise, the first bite tore through his ear and ripped it free from his head. He screamed and turned, attempting to shoot the zombie that was now chewing and swallowing his flesh down. ThornGrip was already walking away, I watched as two more zombies joined in the feeding. The man’s cries pierced the silence, and were soon replaced with the smacking of wet meat being pulled from bones and the gnashing of teeth as he was consumed. His eyes settled on mine in an accusatory stare before fading into death.
“It would have been kinder if I had killed him,” ThornGrip said after we had safely removed ourselves from the area.
“Do you wish you had?”
“Part of me does, another part is happy that he died slowly and painfully.”
“We will have to push on further than normal tonight, the zombies have seen us and once they are done they will come looking for us.”
“Perhaps we should have killed them.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. My first concern had been to get away from there. “That would have been a better idea.” Night comes dark and fast in the thick of trees. I could see okay in the dark, nothing like the cat and apparently nothing like a bear. She seemed completely unaffected as we kept going, I stayed right in behind her as she deftly avoided all manner of obstacle. And if for some reason she could not avoid it she just went through it.
“There is a small human dwelling up ahead, do you wish to stop for the night?”
“Are there two-leggers there?” I winced, I was tired and my body was beginning to ache all over. I’m sure ThornGrip would have given me a ride if I’d asked. If we went much further I would have to let my pride go and do just that. To be honest, I do not even think she would have felt me upon her back. I would have been able to bury myself in her thick fur and get a decent nap while she plodded on indifferently.
