Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books. (which is quite a lot if you think about it)
Chapter 13: The Streetrats
The slavering jaws of the wolf were torn suddenly from her throat. She scrambled to her paws. A black shadow had clamped onto the animals head. Backing away from the pain, the wolf slipped, pawing vainly for a hold. The shadow still clung to his face. Running up, she held out a paw. "Shadowpelt, Climb off of him! He'll fall!"
The tom turned its face to answer, but all she saw was the half decayed face, maggots streaming from his eyes, of one of the bodies from the Valley of Thorns. She screamed and the shadow of the canyon reached up to grab wolf and cat.
Windheart awoke with a start. It had been a moon since Shadowpelt had died, but she still had nightmares of that terrible valley.
She sighed and got to her paws, padding to the edge of the cluster of sleeping cats. She stared wistfully at the moon, wishing, not for the first time, she was back home in the Elites den where she belonged.
"I miss him," a voice behind her murmured. She jumped and spun, then relaxed. It was Sheba. Windheart nodded. "I'd give anything to have him back. He gives our people hope." Sheba nodded silently, and the two she-cats sat the rest of the night away, two different cats from two very different Clans, minds focused on the same thought Or rather, the same cat.
Thunderfoot awoke, staring sleepily at the happy face before him.
He batted Mouse aside lightly. "Please don't wake me that way. It's unnerving."
Mouse rolled her eyes. "I have a report. A patrol went out this morning, a few miles west. We found a… weird village. Odd, hairless, beasts that walk on two-legs. Their teeth are blunt, their nails are useless, and their flesh is soft. How they managed to survive for so long is beyond me."
Riverstripe trotted cautiously across the odd flat path, just like the one Windheart had described from her vision.
The last party of cats followed, barely missing the rock hard paws of the massive Stone-feet that pulled the two-leggers in odd wooden contraptions. The harness that wrapped around the Stone-foot looked exactly like the one Beast had been wearing, even the strips of hide the two-legs had tied to the rings on the harness looked like the ones in the 'Keeper' wolves mouths. (a/n- Stone-feet horses. The harnass is a cart harness, with rings the reigns go in. the wolves hold the reigns, thus holding the wolf. The double reins make it possible for four wolves to hold on.)
She sighed, glad the last cat was across. They all huddled in the alley of the two buildings, shaking in fear of it all. She didn't blame them. The two-leggers might be useless looking, but they were smart.
Suddenly a heavily accented voice spoke from the shadows. "Ye've entered th' land o' the Gang of the Streetrats, lead by Sally Bones." (a/n- name from the book Varjak Paw by SF Said)
A large scarred tom stepped out of the shadows. His face was cold and menacing, but all that vanished in a heartbeat as he looked them over. "Ye ain't from any Gangs 'round 'ere. Ye don't even smell like th' place." He studied them. "Come wit' me."
A while later, Windheart found herself in a particularly large alley.
The Home Alley.
On the half-hour walk of weaving through side-streets, alleys, and something smelly called a sewer, she had managed to gather some information. The city, (a/n- this takes place in the 1700s, in a 'sophisticated' town) was divided by Gangs. Gangs had boundaries that were lengthened when food was scarce. The larger the Gang, the more Land you had, the more you could keep, and the more you could take. There were even Neutral areas.
The Streetrats, or Sally Bone's Gang, was the largest and most known. The Mudwalkers, Sewermice, and Dirtrollers were the other three main Gangs. There were smaller ones, though, scattered all around. There were what were called 'Loners' who lived alone, or with one or two other cats, and stayed away from Gang business and fights.
A cat could join a Gang whenever he wanted. There was no system of organization. You either survived or you didn't. They did have patrols though, which was the reason the Forest Cats were here in the first place.
Suddenly, a skrawny white she-cat stepped out of the shadows. Despite her ragged, skinny appearance, she seemed powerful and imposing.
When she spoke her voice was cold and harsh. "What are ye doin' my land? Twist, where'd you pick 'em up?"
The big tom who had captured them answered, "Near the edge o' Lunar's territory. We was patrolin' see. Them Mudwalkers been awful bold o' late. Anyways, we was there when I hears this mutterin'. I creep up, real slow-like, and what do I see's but a load o' huddlin cats, them smellin like the trees and the skies and the bogs. Blood to. Course, I don't notice alla this 'til they was all there.
Anyway's, they was a'crossin the street, dodgin 'orses, so's I waited for 'em to finish, see'in as it twas better'n havin' to do it meself, and I just asked 'em what they was do'in on the land o' Sally Bones. Tis then I realized they smelt like the sky and the trees and all. So's I brought them here."
Sally Bones nodded slowly as Twist sat back. She beckoned with her tail to a young brown tabby she-cat. "Flick, gather up som'a others n' finish patrolin' the Mudwalker's border. Can't leave them places open for to long. You, Roach, take one 'long the Sewermice land."
She turned back to the party. "I'm sure the rest've us 'ould like to 'ear yer story. We've all day, so don't go excusin' yerself sayin' s'to long."
Windheart stepped gingerly forward. She didn't know why, but her paws drove her on. She was unbelievably nervous. You've faced wolves and fire and every other cursed thing there is to fear. A story should be nothing! she thought angrily.
"Well…" she began, starting as far back as she could go. The more she talked, the easier it became. She tried to explain as much as possible, to make it easier for the alley cats to know what they were talking about. She paused once, mouth dry, and a water soaked ball of moss was brought to her. The water was a little metallic-y, but she was thirsty.At last, an hour later, with questions and help from the other cats, she finished.
Sally Bones gazed at them, face expressionless, then mewed at last, "Musta been hard, havin' ta leave like that. I've no idea what I'd do wit'out me allies. We can't offer ye's a long stay, but a few nights won't 'urt. Yer welcome till' yer on yer paws agin."
Two long weeks later found Riverstripe hunting with the Gang cats. They were deliberately sneaking onto the Dirtroller's territory, so that the Gang would know that for every scrap of food taken off of the Streetrat's land without leave would be paid back in double, prey and blood. The Streetrats were the lead Gang around here at the moment, and they were to be treated that way!
"Stay low," the gray tabby, Weed, growled gruffly. "We don't wants ta be saw's afore we gotta."
Beside him Weevil, Slide, Knox, Rat, Pigeon, Mutt, and Dancer shifted, patient as any thief. Suddenly, none other than the scout Thief, whom they had sent ahead earlier, came back.
"Alls clear," he murmured. "The second party, Digger, Manky, Scrap, Nugget, Tabs, Cludge, Measle, Weasle, Runt, and Holly is waitn' fer the signal. Tam is a'waiten to, wit' Scraggle, Triss, Mangle, Pox, Shrink, Cloud, Abby, Ajax, Red, and Amber. Alls they needs is th' signal,"he repeated.
Weed nodded, then asked suddenly, "What happened t' Flick, Twist, n' Roach?" Thief grinned. "They wann'ed ta lead a patrol fr'm the north, but old Bones wouldn't let em and they got all mad. She told em ta take patrols t' th' oth'r borders and cool down."
Riverstripe, not for the first time, felt out of place in this strange world. Her cats were leaving in two days, though, and she wanted to repay them for their kindness.She moved up to Weed.
"So the plan is: we get as much food as possible while the others distract them?"
Weed nodded, then flashed her a grin. "Ye up for it kitty?"
She blinked. "What's a kitty?"
"Them perty, lit'le, prim cats that live in them two-legger nests? Wit' the perty little things 'round their necks, called collars?"
She nodded. She'd seen one in a clear-wall (a window it was called). "The one's that looke at you like your dirt?"
His grin widened. "That's them."
Manky snorted. " 'Pets' I heard 'em called once. Pets. Them kitties 'ave no dignity left."
Mutt snorted laughter. "Kitty-pets," he wheezed through a nosed that had been injured by a horse.
Suddenly, a panting she-cat ran up. Riverstripe recognized her as Tabs. "The signal is ta' be given in five minutes, Bones says."
Weed nodded. "Mind yerselves. I'd skin ye personally if'n ye ruin it now. We leave in five."
"If'n yer ever in need o' help, just ask," Sally Bones mewed gruffly. The whole Gang had escorted them to the edge of their land, but only Sally Bones had brought the all the way through the Sewermice' land, to the edge of the town. The thin line in the distance promised woodland. Perhaps they were closer to home than they'd thought.
Thunderfoot nodded. He would miss the allies and the not-so-gruff cats a little. "Thanks for all you have done." Sally Bones nodded. "Anytime."
With a last farewell, the cats started off on their journey once more.
I know! A completly useless chapter. At the moment. It will make sense as the story continues. As I said, the name Sally Bones comes from the book Varjak Paw, as do the names Holly and Tam. Please review. Reviews make me want to update faster. Without them, I just might forget to type over Feb. break and then you'll have to wait two weeks for the next chapter! Mwa ha ha!