Jaci Dawn

The cat trotted out into the open. It gently dropped the little creature onto the lawn and waited. The little creature did not immediately move, but the cat expected that. When the thing did move, it was slowly. The tabby expected that, as well. The cat wasn’t worried. The little thing would provide entertainment soon enough.
The cat batted at its new friend: no claws, that would be most uncivil. It just wanted the little thing to wake up and shake it off.
Deacon shook his head. He had his magic wand, but did he dare use it? It would probably alert someone, and the mission would be lost. He needed to think. He rolled over when the cat prodded him, and found himself looking up into its whiskered face.
“Can’t you just be a familiar, like Horace?”
The cat blinked.
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.” A tinny voice called from behind, and the cat turned to look. A little beacon of light crossed the cat’s face. The cat knew this game: chase the little light.
It looked back at the little creature, considering options: little light game? Or new friend?
“Kitty, kitty.”
New friend wasn’t moving very quickly, so the cat turned its attention on to the little light.
Deacon stood up as soon as the cat turned around. He saw the light in the grass as well, and could hear Natalie calling the cat.
They’d come to save him! Simultaneously, he wondered: what about the mission? How many others were out there?
The cat pounced in the direction of Natalie, but the light went dark before it landed. The light popped on, again, off to the left, and another voice called, “Kitty, Kitty.” The light danced in the grass, which made it more fun, and the cat danced along with it, waiting to make a final pounce.
Deke could make not out the capitol building He didn’t know how far the cat had carried him. He just needed to make it back to the building. He ran, zig-zagging, through the grass. The cat landed in front of him.
“KITTY KITTY KITTY” Natalie shouted and flashed her light in the cat’s face again. Natalie had also moved closer to the capitol building.
Before the cat turned, it flipped Deke up into the air, caught him as he tumbled back down, and batted him overhead into the branches of an azalea. Deke’s arms helicopter out as he tried to gain purchase on the stems of the little evergreen. He caught himself just above the ground.
The cat abandoned Deke (for the moment, Deke, knew), and pounced playfully after the little beacons of light in the grass. Deke saw one light fly over the cat’s head and go off.
Natalie called. “Run toward my voice, Deacon!”
Deacon dropped to the ground, dusted himself off, and called, “I lost my flashlight!”
“Just run toward me!”
He dashed. The cat dashed. Horace jumped up in front of the cat. The cat caught Horace with both paws and landed on top of him. Horace squealed in terror.
“Nooooo!” Deke changed directions and ran at the cat. “No, no, no, nooooo!”
Natalie tried the distract the cat, but now it was fixated on the little creature running at it. It held the mouse under its paw, and waited.
“Deacon, you must follow me!” Natalie ran forward, to intercept Deacon. “Horace can handle this!”
“It’ll kill Horace!” He cried as the older mouse caught his arm.
“Yes, and it will kill you. It’s a cat. That’s what they do.” Natalie pulled Deke back. “We have a long way to go, to get back to the rest of the group.”
“But – Horace!” He looked over his shoulder in time to see Horace transform into an owl, and push the cat off.
“I’m telling you, Horace can handle this. Come on!” Natalie pulled Deke in the direction of the capitol building.
The cat jumped back in alarm when the mouse changed shapes before its eyes. It hated the big birds, and knew them to very dangerous. It arched its back and hissed, all thoughts of play abandoned.
Horace opened his wings and hissed back, hopping forward with great yellow claws open.
The cat fought back with a strong swipe of sharp claws, and a long, drawn out growl.
Deke could hear them fighting as he ran, tears streaming down his face. How could Horace hope to win over a creature so naturally evil as that cat?! The sound of the battle followed the pair of mice all the way to the capitol building, when it ceased altogether. Deke turned and stared out into the dark lawn. The sun was beginning to come up, and he was a long way from his friends, and from Horace. He slumped his shoulders and followed Natalie.

“Who goes there?” A light shone in Natalie’s eyes, then Deke’s.
“You guys have clothes on,” the voice added. “I thought we were supposed to be real mice.”
“We are real mice,” Deke grumbled. He bet the other voice had never been down a mouse hole, and he had.
“I might ask who you are,” Natalie replied, cooly. “Turn the light off, or you’ll attract the cat.”
The light flipped off. “Th-there’s a c-cat?”
“Who are you, again?”
“Oh. My name’s George. I’m with the front door patrol. We’re supposed to take down Security at 0900 hours.”
“George? Not Gran’s brother, George?” Deke peered around Natalie.
“Is that the Twerp?” George grinned. He was dressed in camoflage, right down to his hunting cap.
Natalie intervened. “Natalie Woodhouse. Deacon and I were way-laid by a particularly hungry feline.” She stressed Deacon, and Deke thought he could hug her. “We lost our group. Where is yours?”
“Oh, this way.” George led them behind a tall plant with sword-like leaves. “We’re digging out our entrance so we can get into the building and hack the security system. I’m on sentry duty. Hey guys!” he called ahead. “I found some more allies!”
Natalie glanced at Deke. “Some sentry,” she whispered.
Deke grinned, the sting of having lost Horace temporarily gone.
The leader came forward when George called out.
“Goodness. Natalie Woodhouse! So good to see you. We’ve just broken through and we’re going in. Where is your group?”
“Long story, Sharon. May we join you?”
George’s group consisted of two more senior high school boys; a pair of Goths; two girls from the high school girls’ basketball team; Mr. Howard, the art teacher; and Sharon, the public librarian. Sharon had a last name, but she’d never used it, and Deke couldn’t remember what it was.
They climbed into the duct work and everyone squeaked, “What now?”
“You climb.” Deke grabbed an Ethernet cord. “Tell me where we’re going?”
The rest followed him, dubiously. “Have you done this before?” complained someone from far behind Deke.
“A time or two,” he answered, irritated.
The plan, Mr. Howard explained to Deke’s tail, was to get into the main security office, and lock all the doors into and out of the building at precisely 0900. They needed to disable all computers and telephone lines.
“Server room,” Deke muttered. Where his own team had been headed, according to Ella. He hoped they would make it in time.
They came out inside of a cabinet. Deke could see footprints in the dust.
“Okay, we’re clear,” Natalie peered out of the cabinet into the darkened room.
The first mice up the server tower were the two Goths. George and his friends explored the top of the cabinet, relaying the information they found on the schematics. The rest fanned out to take up positions in case someone came into the server room. The basketball girls found a conference room chair in poor condition. This was shoved by group effort into place under the door handle, to keep anyone from breaking is easily.
Deke wandered off by himself, looking for tracks from his friends. He needed to think, to devise a way to rejoin them. He felt terrible that Horace and Natalie had followed him out into the grass, and now Horace was gone. He’d let the team down!
He sniffled, once. If only he could have used his wand! But it was safe in his pocket.
“What’s this?” squeaked Sharon. “It looks like someone got caught in a sticky rat trap!”
Deke ran. Sharon, Natalie, and Mr. Howard were standing over one of those traps Aric’s dad used in their old house. Only this trap held a surprise: a very dead rat with a safety pin stuck in the side of its head, and its nose between a pair of black lace-up boots in the shape of mouse feet.
They all looked at each other.
“We stick to the plan, and hope they got past the rat,” Natalie said, decisively.
Deke sank in a heap, wondering whose boots were stuck in the green goo, and who had thought to use a safety pin as a weapon. He hoped it was the same mouse, and that mouse had made it to the governor’s office.

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