Disclaimer: Cats belongs to the T.S. Eliot and Andrew Lloyd Webber estates. I, of course, own no part of this story apart from the OC…and, quite frankly, I don't want to own her.
This is not my first fic, but it's my first fic in a long time. I can only hope I got it right. Reviews are, of course, appreciated, and constructive criticism would be a godsend. Tell me if you think I'm flaking! My chapters are normally this short, but I intend this to be a short fic anyway. I hope you enjoy reading this!
A Jellicle lounged lazily on the roof of the car, staring up at the dead-white sky. It was the middle of Autumn, and by rights there ought to have been leaves fluttering about and the voices of human children in school, or cars driving past. As it was, there was almost no human noise at all.
Several decades ago, drunk from power and excitement, the President of the United States had declared war on a small country with an arsenal of neutron bombs. No doubt the USA believed they could win the war by pussyfooting around with rules and regulations: however, the littler country hadn't cared for guidelines, and had dropped its bombs on certain parts of the Americas, and countries allied with it. Many places had been devastated: and yet the worst was still to come.
The mutations.
For the neutron bombs released high amounts of radiation: everyone knew the consequences would be dire, but no-one estimated how dire. For one bomb had dropped in the middle of the city of London, very near a testing laboratory, and had somehow managed to spread out certain hormones, cells, and DNA through the wave of people it had not irreversibly damaged.
The consequence was the Jellicle cats. People and cats, half-human freaks (as they were called in the popular media). And yet the number of Jellicles grew and grew as they bred together: and the humans seemed to die out, wombs damaged or adults killed. Only a few 'working' humans still remained in the cities—or, indeed, the country—and an unofficial agreement was that the humans should leave England, to make their lives elsewhere (possibly to repopulate America, possibly to open bars in Spain if they felt like it), and let the Jellicles have the Junkyard that was mostly London.
Some people were too thick to get it, of course, reflected the Jellicle, and turned over; the sky depressing him. Some humans still remained in London, that he knew of: he couldn't speak for anywhere else, but once or twice he got a nosing of the foolish ones, the poor ones: the economy had collapsed, they were reduced to foraging, and birth control was pretty much off the list: yet they kept reproducing. The Jellicles had never actually killed any, that he knew, but the Pollicles probably had, and Macavity was a dead cert to have done.
He had to admit they hadn't actually helped, either, but he tried not to think about that.
About to paw at his itching ear, a cough stopped him in his tracks. It wouldn't be the first time humans had come to hunt the Tribe for food. Idiots. He smoothly got down from the old Ford Mondeo and hotfooted it back to the Junkyard.
'Plato!' called out Munkustrap, technically the day-to-day leader of the Tribe. 'You look worried—'
'I have a reason!' the Jellicle called Plato replied. 'I think humans have come again. I was down by the old Ford, heard what was definitely a human coughing, so we should probably go and scare them off—'
Munkustrap's face hardened. 'Brilliant,' he muttered, almost to himself. 'Another lot of idiots who think they can take us for food.' Straightening, he nodded to the two older queens, Jennyanydots and Jellylorum.
'Get the kits and the others who can't fight with you into some secluded corner,' he said quietly, 'Guess who's come looking for dinner again?'
As an afterthought, he added; 'Take Asparagus and Skimbleshanks. Hm. Quaxo too.'
'Won't you need him?' Jellylorum protested, gathering the kittens around her.
Munkustrap shook his head. 'I think we'll let him be for the time being—he does need to rest, you know, we can't have him fighting all the time.'
About to angrily rebuke Munkustrap's claim that she didn't know what was best for Quaxo, Jellylorum was lead off gently by Asparagus. Munkustrap turned his head to the rest of the Jellicles who had gathered following Plato's announcement, glad that they were so ready.
'Plato heard a human. There may be others, so we just need to scare them away. Plato—would you say it was a kit?'
Plato shook his head. 'It wasn't an adult, but it wasn't a child.'
'Good, that makes it easier,' Munkustrap replied. 'Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer—can you go and scout ahead, see what we're dealing with? Alonzo, Tugger, if we need to haul anyone in—if it's just a loner, or someone who works for Macavity—you're with me.'
He hoped they'd never have to haul somebody in, but better safe than sorry. The leader turned his face to the slightly forbidding brig the Jellicles had constructed several years ago. It was still standing, and still empty. Just the way he liked it.
Mungojerrie ghosted just past the car Plato had been sitting on, Rumpleteazer following along behind. Carefully, carefully, they peered through breaks in the wall nearby to see what their Tribe was up against. Would they be facing a hungry mob of twenty strong young adults? A few elderly humans, desperate for nourishment? Or a child, simply wanting companionship?
It was not nearly as severe as that, thank goodness. Just one single, solitary human teenager girl: rather chubby, so she wouldn't be able to run after them, quite pale, so she wouldn't be able to blend in, with the only things counting in her favour being her dull brown hair, and her equally dull mud-colour clothing.
She seemed not to be too alert, either. She was dragging her finger through the dust idly, seemingly absorbed in the patterns she was making.
'Doesn't seem that bad,' whispered Mungojerrie to his partner.
She stared at him as if he had suddenly grown another head. 'Are you mad? He said to bring in any loners—and that's what she happens to be! We're going to have to use that prison-thing, and interview her to make sure she ain't planning anything…oh, I can just imagine the look on his face.'
Mungojerrie looked rather blank.
'It won't be good,' she supplied.
'But surely,' he hissed back, still watching the girl, 'Bringin' her in is a precaution.'
'Yeah, but it's a soddin' inconvienient one,' Rumpleteazer pointed out. 'You keep an eye on her, I'll tell the rest of them.'
And so it came to pass that while the human girl had just finished drawing her pretty pictures in the dust, several shadows appeared over her.
The girl looked up, and her face was a mask of terror.
'You're going to have to come with us,' said Alonzo, and firmly held onto her upper arm as Tugger grabbed the other.
The girl started to scream, and the noise echoed around the empty streets, and nobody came to her aid.