Planet of the Cats

I wait in the darkness, my black rain poncho hiding me from sight and the stink of the sewers masking my scent. These sewers have not been in use for several decades, however the stale aroma of ancient excrement and dried out rat skeletons still lingers in the air. The smell, and the fact that the rats have been all but hunted to extinction, is usually enough to keep the enemy at bay.

Yet now I find my sanctuary infiltrated by a lone scout. After leaving town and sensing I was being followed, I'd made sure it was alone, before eventually luring it back to my camp. Now I wait patiently for it to enter my trap.

Leo stirs at my chest, restless. I place a hand on his head in order to calm him, and raise my other hand in front of me, gripping the device tightly. I peer through the inky blackness. At first, I see and hear nothing. Then, two golden eyes appear amidst the dark. The pair of eyes move slowly from right to left, searching. It has not seen me, nor should it. I judge that it is a bit more than 20 meters away, just outside its optimal range of vision. Also, I am shrouded, camouflaged in the shadows.

I hold my breath, waiting for it to approach. Silently, the eyes come closer. Closer. I place my thumb over the button of the device in my hand.

Frustratingly, Leo moves again. However, this time the heart-shaped locket secured to his collar moves also, making a soft jingling noise only partially obscured by my poncho. The eyes in the darkness snap toward my direction. They begin to approach at speed.

I press my thumb down on the button of my device and a bright red dot appears on the wall adjacent to me. I see the golden eyes shift instinctively towards the light as the creature pounces, not at me but rather at the red dot. There is a heavy thump as it slams into the wall and a metallic chunk as the door of the steel cage slams shut. The snarls of the now caged animal echo through the sewer chamber as it struggles to no avail to free itself from the cage.

I release the button of the laser pointer in my hand and place it in my pocket. From my other hand, I place Leo on the ground. Sensing that the danger has passed, he purrs and walks in between my legs.

“Dumbass,” I mutter under my breath.

I take a book of matches from my pocket and carefully light my gas lantern. I hold the lantern up to the cage and inspect my quarry in its flickering light.

The cat is a Bengal. Its matted, grey fur stands on end as I approach, and it hisses up at me, backing all the way up to the rear of the cage. I gaze into its golden eyes, which are ablaze with fury. I lean forward so that my face is practically pressed up against the cage.

“You are the third scout I’ve seen in two weeks,” I say in a hushed tone. “The first to follow this far out of town. Now, I thought your boss and I had an agreement, but I guess I must have been mistaken. Tell me: why is Mordecai suddenly so interested in my comings and goings?”

The Bengal yowls and continues to stare daggers at me.

I stand up and give the cage a mighty kick. The clang of my boot against the metal echoes through the sewer. “Speak!”

“Fuck you!” the Bengal hisses. “You’re a dead man.”

The words are full of venom but without a shred of uncertainty. Not a good sign. If Mordecai really wants me dead, it is in my best interest to find out why.

I reach into my satchel and remove a long, green cucumber, fresh from my own vegetable garden. Even in the dim light cast by my lantern, the Bengal sees it immediately. It freezes and the fury in its eyes turns to dread.

“No, please,” it whimpers.

Waving the cucumber in front of the cage I say, “Just tell me what I want to know.”

The Bengal looks away from me, weighing up his options. I slide the cucumber through the bars of the cage. The Bengal jumps straight up into the air, bashing its head against the top of the cage. “Ow, fuck, okay! What?”

“What does Mordecai want from me?”

The Bengal looks warily at the cucumber poking through the bars of the cage, then looks at me with angry tears in its eyes. “Not you,” it spits. Then, it looks past me.

I turn and move my lantern in order to follow its gaze. I see that Leo is looking at us from across the room. His cute kitten eyes shine in the lamplight and he tilts his head to one side, letting out a soft meow.

Before I can question this revelation further, I feel rather than hear a rumbling resonating through the sewer tunnels outside the chamber. Behind me, the caged Bengal sniggers. I turn to look at it and it is only now, away from the light of my lantern, that I notice the blinking red light emanating from inside the animal’s belly. A tracker.

Seeing the realization dawn on my face, the Bengal’s sniggers turn to laughter. In a voice eerily similar to that of Heather O’Rourke from Poltergeist, a movie it should have no way of knowing, it says, “They’re heeere.”

“Shit.” I dump the cucumber into the cage and hurry away, leaving the Bengal’s horrified howls behind. The rumbling is getting louder and more vigorous.

I scoop Leo up with my free hand and secure him inside my poncho. Then I rush over to my portable generator. Switching it on and pulling the choke control, I give the recoil cord a tug.

The generator whirs but does not turn over. The rumbling grows louder. Death approaching.

“Shit.” I pull the cord again. The generator sputters but fails to start again. “Shit, shit, shit.”

I look over to the entrance of the chamber we’re in and through the darkness I spy the glint of hundreds of pairs of cats’ eyes rushing towards the fire of my lamp. An impossible number of fangs and claws closing in on our position, gnashing and scratching at the concrete floors and walls of the sewer.

I give the recoil cord one more pull and the generator finally sputters to life, perhaps prolonging my life for a few more moments. I smash a large red button to the left of the generator and at the same time I extinguish my lamp.

As soon as I push the red button, the laser balls that I have connected to the generator switch on. Red lasers shoot out from the balls in all directions, casting red dots all over the interior walls. In the ghastly red light of the lasers, I see the legion of cats that have now entered the chamber. They’ve formed a tidal wave of cats, cascading over each other, eager to tear and rip into my flesh; a writhing mass of fur and sinew. I see this wave part like the Red Sea, as the cats divert their attention to the hundreds of red dots that are being cast across the walls of the chamber. I hit the deck and feel warm bodies fly over me, careening into the rear wall.

Sticking as close to the ground as possible, I scuttle towards the entrance of the chamber. I’m deathly aware that this ploy will only buy me a few minutes at the most. I need to get Leo, and myself, out of here.

I commando crawl out of the chamber as fast as I can. Despite my diversion and the haste of my escape, I feel claws tear at my legs and arms, though they quickly move on, instinctively drawn away by the moving red dots. I don’t dare get back to my feet until I’ve reached the T-junction outside of the chamber.

I turn left at the junction, only to be met by a second wave of cats, their rapidly approaching eyes practically filling the tunnel. I spin around on the spot and instead sprint down the right-hand passageway. The adrenaline keeps away most of the pain and the panic, but I am dimly aware of blood trickling down my legs as well as the sound of hundreds of cats hot on my heels.

I dig in my pockets and pull out some firecrackers and my matchbook. I light a string of firecrackers and drop them at my feet as I sprint. I hear them go off behind me and a chorus of panicked yowls and hisses follow. My boots pound the dry concrete of the sewer.

I run through the tunnels of this sewer that I have called home for the past five years; a home that I know I will never be able to return to. My breath becomes ragged. I wipe sweat from my forehead. No, not sweat. Blood, leaking from a wound on my head. I light another string of firecrackers and drop them. I just need to buy myself a little more time.

Finally, I turn a corner and see moonlight at the end of the tunnel. I sprint to the end of the tunnel and the concrete of the sewer pipe turns to sand beneath my feet. The smell of the sewer is replaced by the smell of the ocean. I run out into the open air and escape the echoey chaos of the sewer into the relative peace of the beach.

But I am not given time to rest. I glance over my shoulder and in the moonlight I see cats spilling out of the sewer tunnel, continuing to pursue us, unhindered by the change in terrain. I move to run down the beach and that’s when I see the rest of Mordecai’s army. Thousands of cats of various breeds descending on the beach, cutting off our escape.

With no options left, I sprint towards the surf, scooping Leo out from inside my poncho and placing him on my head. He meows in protest but I ignore him. This is all his fault anyway, apparently.

I push out into the freezing cold water. The saltwater stings my leg wounds, but the shock of the cold is enough to spur me onwards. The water comes up to my waist, high enough to halt the cats’ advance. And yet I push further out, putting more and more distance between myself and the cacophony of frustrated yowls and hisses at my back.

After just a few minutes of wading I reach my destination: a tiny little islet just off the shore. I walk up onto dry sand before turning around to survey my situation. As anticipated, the situation is grim. The beach behind me is lined with cats as far as the eye can see. They span the length of the beach on mass, so much so that it is difficult to make out the sand beneath the various shades of black, white, brown, and grey of their fur.

Most of the cats stand far enough from the encroaching waves to minimize the risk of their getting wet. Yet one cat stands ahead of the pack. Even at a distance I recognize Mordecai. With his imposing frame, long fur, and tufted ears, the Persian strikes a very intimidating silhouette. He stands just beyond the reach of the tide, watching me, waiting patiently. He seems to know that low tide will come with the dawn, turning my little island into a peninsula. When that happens, he and his army will simply stroll in and take what he wants. The kitten and presumably, my life.

Speaking of the kitten, I feel him shivering atop my head. I remove him and place him on the dry sand. He looks out onto the beach and it is unclear from his lack of reaction whether or not he sees the army of death that waits for us. Leo looks up at me and tilts his head to the side, still shivering. Sighing, I push the pain from my wounds to the back of my mind and begin to gather dry sticks.

With the help of my last match, thankfully kept dry in my breast pocket, I soon have a fire going. Leo curls up by the fire while I busy myself by fashioning a stick into a spear with my knife. The tide has already begun to ebb and the army of cats is noticeably closer than they were just 30 minutes ago.

I inspect the point of my spear and check its sharpness. If I’m going down, I’ll be sure to take as many of those bastards down with me. I glance over at Leo and see that he is observing me. His huge, kitten eyes glint in the fire.

“Why do you do it?” he says. It is the first time I hear him speak, and his speaking voice is not that of a child, but that of a man much older.

Taken aback, it takes me a while to form a response. “Do what?” I ask, finally.

“Why do you risk your life – no, not risk. Forfeit. Your life is now forfeit. All for one of us. Your enemy.”

I consider my response. He has a point. Leo has not been in my company for very long. I do not have an explanation as to why I should feel so inclined to protect him, especially since his kind has all but wiped out my own.

I sigh and put down my spear and knife. I look deeply into the fire. “Cats and humans were not always enemies, you know? Once upon a time, they were friends.”

“What you call friendship, my kind calls subjugation.”

“Perhaps. I wouldn’t know, it was before my time. I have no concept of the relationship our two species shared before the war. Yet when I am in your company...” I look at Leo, with his cute button nose and little curled up paws. “...I think I can understand.”

Leo looks back at me. Finally, he nods. “I feel the same way.”

I let the moment hang between us. Then I nod out toward the advancing army, which is close enough now that I can smell them over the scent of the ocean. “What does he want with you?”

Leo gives me the cat equivalent of a shrug. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.”

The fire crackles as we both stare into its depths. Then, it sizzles. Was it my imagination?

I hold out a palm. A big, fat raindrop slaps into my flesh, cold and wet.

I look up at the sky. In the light of the waning moon, I can see that storm clouds have gathered overhead. Another raindrop hits my cheek and slides down the side of my face. Leo stands and walks over to me. I gingerly pick him up and place him inside my rain poncho.

I look out at Mordecai’s army and realize that his ranks have thinned. The sea of cats before us is retreating from the beach in the face of the impending storm. Within minutes, all that remain is Mordecai himself. The beast is close enough for me to see the frustration in his eyes. His eyes narrow at me, memorizing my face. Finally, he turns and stalks off; too proud to run like the rest of his minions, but forced to retreat to shelter nonetheless.

“Looks like we live to fight another day,” I say.

“It’s not going to be easy living,” Leo says. “You sure you don’t want to sell me out to Mordecai for your own freedom?”

“Nah. Something tells me I’ll live longer with you than without you.” I pause. “Just stop sharpening your claws on my shoes.”

“No promises.”

As the rain begins to bucket down, we prepare for the swim back to the mainland, where the cats have managed to take everything from us except for the company we keep.