The police soon came to arrest the cat woman and take her to the station, but Buster's family now had a serious matter to contend with. "More will come in her place," Jenny warned them. "I suspect that every one of the cat women who landed in Minnesota is a trained killer. You're not safe here. You must take Petula and go into hiding."
"For how long?" asked Buster's stepfather, Harry Mills.
Jenny shook her head sadly. "I can't say. There's no way to know how many Yordilian agents have slipped into Earth society unnoticed. Petula may be a target for the rest of her life."
"I'll defend her with my life for as long as I have to," said Bitzi, gripping the baby rabbit girl tightly.
"So will I," said Harry, a bit less resolutely.
"I wish I could go with you," said Jenny to Buster's family, "but I'd only attract unwanted attention—not only because of my appearance, but also because I'm an undocumented alien. I must attend to the urgent task of naturalizing myself."
"I'll start packing my bags," moaned Buster as he trudged off to his bedroom.
With the danger to Petula past for the moment, the kids began to file off to their homes. Arthur remained with Francine, both to talk about the situation and to gawk at the strange-looking alien in their midst.
"I guess we'll never find out now whether Buster and Binky are gay," Arthur remarked.
"I can't believe what's happening," said Francine dolefully. "First Van's family fled the city, then Muffy's family decided to live on another planet, and now Buster's leaving us. We're running out of friends, Arthur."
"We still have each other," said Arthur helpfully.
"No, I'm serious," said Francine.
As they conversed, George's sister Sal and his parents came to call. "We've talked about it among ourselves," said Mr. Nordgren to Jenny, "and you're welcome to stay at our house for the time being."
"You're very generous," said Jenny.
"Of course, you'll be sharing Sal's room," Mrs. Nordgren told her.
"Hooray!" cheered Sal as she made ready for a handspring. "I get an alien for a roommate!"
"I should warn you that I have a snoring problem," Jenny advised the moose girl.
"Do you have any special dietary needs?" Mrs. Nordgren asked Jenny.
"Yes," replied the Kressidan girl. "Food, and lots of it."
Alan returned home to a suspicious-looking mother. "You haven't been at Buster's, have you?" she demanded to know.
"Take it easy, Mom," said Alan with affected nonchalance. "Buster and his family won't trouble us anymore. They're fleeing for their lives."
Mrs. Powers could only gape at the news.
"You dodged a bullet by losing Petula," said Alan as he sauntered toward his room. "We should count ourselves lucky."
At Prunella's house, Mrs. Prufrock was polishing her crystal ball when her husband called out urgently. "Dru, come here, quickly!"
She dropped the cloth and hurried to the room she and Mr. Prufrock shared. "What's going on, dear?" she inquired.
Her husband stepped back from rummaging through the upper shelf in the closet. With a worried expression he reported, "My gun is missing."
Hours later, Mr. Haney began the descent into the pine-filled valley where FEMA had jury-rigged a tent city to house the thousands of Yordilian emigrants. "It won't be long now," the principal remarked. "I hope Zoe still feels for me, even after her long struggle for freedom."
"I hope they have enough food to go around," said Sue Ellen from the back seat. "Because I'm hungry."
Prunella didn't speak, but simply stared at the backpack lying on the floor at her feet. I don't know what's wrong with me, she thought. When the voice talks to me, I have to do what it says. It's like somebody stole my soul.
She turned her pointed rat nose toward Mr. Haney. "Turn right at the stop sign," she said flatly.
"That would take us back into the hills," said the principal. "The Yordilian encampment is ahead of us."
The intersection and the stop sign loomed nearer. Driven by a terrifying compulsion, Prunella reached down, unzipped her backpack, and pulled out a black case. Mr. Haney watched curiously through the corner of his eye while the girl flipped open the case, wrapped her fingers around the handle and trigger of a pistol, and trained it at his head.
"I said, turn right at the stop sign," she ordered.
Sue Ellen screamed with fright as the image of the firearm hit her eyes.
Mr. Haney swallowed. He couldn't understand why one of his schoolgirls was pointing a gun at him. It seemed outrageous and impossible, but he knew his life was in peril.
"All right," he said calmly, executing a right turn at the intersection. "Now please put the gun away."
"Do what he says!" Sue Ellen urged frantically. "Put the gun away!"
"Quiet!" Prunella barked at her. No malice was evident in her eyes—only a cold rationality.
The '57 Chevy rolled along for half a mile, its driver tense with fear. Prunella displayed no sign of emotion and no intention of yielding. She held the pistol frozen in midair, its business end glaring mockingly at the helpless Mr. Haney. Sue Ellen dared not speak, and struggled not to cry.
The vehicle reached a level part of the road where bushes concealed the left side. "Drive behind those bushes," Prunella commanded Mr. Haney, and the Chevy lurched over the bumps as he obeyed. "Now stop the car and get out."
Sue Ellen was already in tears by the time Prunella waved the gun at her to force her out of the car. She marched her two captives several hundred feet into the pine forest, then said, "Stop." Mr. Haney and Sue Ellen stood stock still, occasionally glancing behind them only to find that Prunella was steadily covering them with her firearm.
Three long minutes passed before a band of six cat women, all wearing Yordilian uniforms and berets, emerged from the wood. One of them Mr. Haney recognized very well—it was his former love, Zoe Belnap, the woman who called herself Gadfly.
"It's been a long time, Herbert," she said pleasantly.
"Hello, Zoe," said the principal meekly.
"That's not my name," said the cat woman, glaring fiercely. "You will call me Gadfly. That's not my name either, but that's what you'll call me."
"What do you want?" Mr. Haney asked her.
"Why ask questions to which you already know the answers?" said Gadfly, looking aside at Sue Ellen.
The cat girl's heart shuddered. "Me," she said quietly and weakly. "They want me."
"You're a smart girl," Gadfly commended her. "Smart, like your parents."
She made a gesture with her head. Two of the cat women pounced, each seizing one of Sue Ellen's arms. The girl screamed, scratched, and wriggled to escape their iron grip, but all in vain.
"If you hurt her, you'll have me to answer to," Mr. Haney snapped.
"I see," said Gadfly with a distinct lack of concern. "And who will I answer to if I hurt you?"
To Sue Ellen's horror, Prunella slowly raised the pistol in her hand and aimed it squarely between the principal's shoulder blades. "Mr. Haney!" she cried out.
Haney whirled, and Prunella fired three rounds into his chest.
To be continued in Arthur Goes Fifth VII