Chapter Fourteen

The Twolegplace rose up out of the rapidly thinning grass after three days of relentless travel. It was large and dirty and loud, and seemed to shroud itself in a perpetual cloud of dust. Rainpaw had never seen anything like it.

By the time they were close enough to smell the muddled, acrid smells of the city, the cats were padding on hard packed, sandy dirt. The sun was beating down harder than usual. Rainpaw glanced at Heatherclaw, trying to make sense of the wary expression on the she-cat's face.

A blaring noise wrenched Rainpaw's gaze from the creamy warrior to the vista ahead of them. His eyes grew as wide as saucers as a massive, shiny beast thundered across a black scar in the ground in front of them. The noise was incredible, as was the stench, and Rainpaw couldn't help but recoil as another and another followed at blinding speeds.

"What, never seen a Thunderpath before?" Tigerfrost sneered. Rainpaw glared at his mentor.

"You know I haven't," he growled back. His eyes returned to the scar, and the monsters that barreled along it in an endless line. So this was a Thunderpath. He'd heard of them. He had heard that they smelled acrid, and that the monsters stayed glued to the path, and that as long as a cat was careful, it was possible to cross. Looking at the speed at which the monsters were hurtling by, though, Rainpaw was beginning to have doubts.

Tigerfrost seemed to sense his thoughts. "We just need to time it right," he said, but the faraway look in his eyes and the slight ruffling of his fur told Rainpaw that his mentor was scared too. Now that was frightening.

"On my signal…" Tigerfrost growled. Three more monsters blasted by. Rainpaw's heart was in his throat. "And… Now!" The group leaped forward as one, their paws skimming across the black pavement with the speed of fear. The Thunderpath was burning hot, and each step seemed to sear his pads. Rainpaw could hear the growling of monsters rushing up from the distance and tried to urge an extra burst of speed into his paws.

The roar went from muted to sharp and Rainpaw swung his head to the right to see the biggest monster yet bearing down on them. It made the ground shake, like each of its many round black legs was pounding down onto the ground. Rainpaw's world moved in slow motion in that instant. He could see all too clearly that he and Heatherclaw were not going to make it. Not unless they were very lucky… and that was all it took before Rainpaw tackled Heatherclaw to the burning pavement. His heart felt like it was going to stop as the massive monster barreled endlessly over the two cats.

"Rainpaw, Heatherclaw, get out of there!" came the faint shouts. Rainpaw lifted a dazed head and this time it was Heatherclaw's turn to save their skins. She clamped her teeth in his scruff and hauled the two of them off the Thunderpath just in time for a little silver monster to screech off into the distance.

Swanblossom tackled Rainpaw to the ground and nuzzled him for injuries. He could feel her shaking. "Are you hurt? You foolish kit, don't do that," she muttered over and over.

Rainpaw tried to blink off his stupor. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine," he mumbled. His blue gaze flitted over everyone in the group and he realized that everyone looked frazzled. Nightclaw was the only one who looked even a little sane.

Her yellow eyes fixed on Tigerfrost. "So maybe next time, we don't go on your signal," she jabbed, and for once the massive tabby had nothing to say.

No one had anything to say, and the horrible smell and the horrible sound of the monsters rushing by was not helpful when all Rainpaw wanted was a break. He levered himself to his paws and said, "This isn't the place to rest. Let's move." It was both surprising and gratifying to see that they followed him—but it wasn't long before Tigerfrost moved to the front and regained control.

Still, Rainpaw couldn't help but grin.

After the hurdle of the Thunderpath, the rest of the trip into the Twolegplace was easy. It wasn't long before the patrol was out of the hot sun and huddled against an impossibly straight wall of one of the Twoleg's dens. The creatures themselves walked in and out of the den carrying items in their arms and, most horrifying of all, hopping into the bellies of the same monsters that had almost killed the patrol. The smell of this alleyway was hardly better than the Thunderpath, except instead of an acrid, burning smell, now the smell was that of vegetation rotting in the hot sun.

Rainpaw didn't care though. Now that all the fear had leeched from his body, he felt unimaginably tired. The rest of the patrol had settled in, either for naps or just to sit and process their brush with death, all except Nightclaw. She was eerily calm through all of this—it was unsettling. Maybe I'll just take a nap, Rainpaw thought sleepily. His eyes were flickering closed when he saw something.

It was just the slightest little flicker in his vision, so small he would have missed it if he hadn't been staring exactly at it. Rainpaw pulled himself to his paws and stalked down the alleyway after it. It's probably just a rat, he thought to himself, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He stuck his head around the intersection between his alley and another and then crept forward, around a pile of shiny black sacks filled with more of that rotting smell. He could hear something… Rainpaw shot forward and slammed the little gray body to the ground.

"Help! Get off me, I'm sorry, get off!"

Rainpaw's ears pressed against his head. "Shut up, would you?" The kit was giving him a headache.

"Help!" Rainpaw cuffed the little gray ball of fluff upside the head and he fell silent. The sound of pawsteps behind him told the apprentice that the patrol had caught up to him and his "prey".

"What have we here?" Nightclaw drawled. Rainpaw flicked an ear at her in irritation.

"He was lurking."

Tigerfrost shouldered his way forward and leered down at the kit. "Now, little kit, what were you doing lurking?" Rainpaw lifted his paws from the kitten and the little furball tried to sprint away. He squealed out loud as Tigerfrost slammed a massive paw down on his tail. The gray kit looked like a mouse and Tigerfrost looked as though he were ready for dinner.

"I won't repeat myself," Tigerfrost growled, his teeth inches from the kitten's ear.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he squeaked. Wide brown eyes scanned back and forth amongst the members of the patrol, looking for a friendly face. "I didn't mean nothing, I'm just hungry and I saw you guys and I thought it'd be better to split," he said, the words tumbling from his lips.

Rainpaw met his mentor's eyes. "He might know something about this place," he suggested. Tigerfrost narrowed and bent to the kitten with a grin.

"Now, you're going to tell us all about yourself and this place, little kit, or else."

That was all it took for the little gray to spill everything he knew. He said his name was Rambo and that, until recently, he'd been in the gang of the local boss—whatever that meant—a cat named Bone. This boss was holed up beneath a building in the middle of the Twolegplace. Rainpaw's ears flicked in confusion at some of the words the kitten used—what were words like city, Cutter, and house supposed to mean? When Rambo was finished telling them everything there was a moment of silence. Rainpaw could read his mentor's thoughts as clear as day. Should they kill the kit now that they knew everything he knew? The little thing was trembling.

"Can you lead us to Bone's den?" Rainpaw asked. Rambo's brown eyes locked onto Rainpaw's as he nodded rapidly. Rainpaw lowered his voice as he muttered, "Maybe we should keep him, as a guide."

It took a moment for him to decide, but when he did, Tigerfrost bared his teeth at the kit. "Don't try to run now, kit, or you'll regret it," he growled, and the massive paw was gone from Rambo's tail. He stalked away down the alley, rumbling, "Break's over," as he went.

"Welcome to the patrol, Rambo," Rainpaw said, and he nudged the kit to his feet. The little gray offered a shaky grin in return.

The patrol walked for hours more, trying to wind their way closer to the interior of the Twolegplace. It was deceptively large, and all of it was loud, dirty, dusty, hot, and smelly. The nests may not have reached far into the sky like the forests beneath Rainpaw's home, but they certainly towered over the cats as they slunk through the bloody red sunset and shadows. Rambo obviously had a destination in mind as he streaked forward at the front of the group. Rainpaw was content to follow, seeing no reason to mistrust the little gray kit.

"Here we are!" Rambo finally announced, standing in front of a decrepit nest that looked about one puff of wind away from blowing over.

Swanblossom was the first to say what they were all thinking. "Are you sure it won't fall on us in our sleep?"

Rambo let out a nervous chuckle. "No, ma'am, I promise it's safe, just come inside and I'll show you." He wiggled in through a crack in the wall and the patrol had no other choice but to follow. Rainpaw had to shove himself through the hole and winced as he felt fur ripping from his pelt. Since when had he been this big?

"Woah," he said. The inside of this nest was huge, and empty except for some sort of wooden construction pushed up against one wall. It had four long legs and a slab over the top, and it looked like just about the sturdiest thing Rainpaw had ever seen that wasn't made of stone. Rambo was already sitting underneath it on a nest made of an eclectic set of items, most of which Rainpaw had never seen before. The patrol slowly filed in and one by one took places underneath the table. Before he curled up and went to sleep, Tigerfrost grumbled, "Rainpaw gets the first watch."

Rainpaw sighed. "Of course," he muttered. Rambo blinked at him curiously and Rainpaw felt suddenly self-conscious in front of the kit. He studied the rogue out of the corner of his eye and nearly winced in sympathy at the collection of scars that studded his young pelt. The kit hadn't even lost his kit-fluff yet and he already had more scars than Rainpaw and Swanblossom put together. A particularly nasty one cut through the little tom's white bib. Rambo seemed to sense the scrutiny and rubbed a white paw uncomfortably over his ears.

Rainpaw paced out into the middle of the den. "How did you get those?" Rainpaw asked, flicking his tail back at Rambo. The kit seemed scared for a moment before he hesitantly joined Rainpaw.

"Well I was the runt back home," Rambo whispered in reply. Rainpaw's nose twitched uncomfortably at the matter-of-factness in the kit's voice. "And I was never very good at much… Bone always said I was too stupid to be able to hunt, and I'm not so good at fighting."

Rainpaw glanced up at the moonlight streaming in through a window and sighed. "Well, maybe when we get our mission sorted out, we can change some of that," he said. Why did life have to keep getting more complicated? Rainpaw nudged Swanblossom awake and then settled down for a well-deserved night of rest.

~O~

The morning dawned brightly, and the light shining in from the window easily roused Rainpaw from his sleep. He was surprised to find Rambo curled up right next to him. Everyone else was awake and gathered in the middle of the den. Rainpaw padded forward, hoping that there was freshkill waiting for him.

Tigerfrost glowered at him. "You'll have to catch your own," he growled. Rainpaw's mouth watered uncontrollably at the thought of a nice juicy mouse. Swanblossom flicked her tail at a yawning portal at the back of the nest and Rainpaw trotted off to find breakfast. It took a frustrating amount of time before he was able to locate even a single piece of prey, and even then it was a scrawny excuse for a mouse. He turned back to the main area only to see a pair of hopeful brown eyes swimming up out of Rambo's gray face.

"You've got to be kidding me," he growled. The kit's face instantly fell and Rainpaw growled again, knowing that he couldn't not give him the mouse. He tossed the scrawny prey at the kit and grumpily went off in search of another piece of underfed Twolegplace prey.

By the time Rainpaw was finally forced to admit defeat, everyone else in the patrol was annoyed at him for taking so long. Rambo led the way once more through streets that became busier as the morning wore on. The patrol was still tired and, in Rainpaw's case, hungry.

Rainpaw nearly hissed as Swanblossom fell back to walk beside him. There was always another lecture! Obviously he'd never be old enough to live his own life as long as his nagging half-sibling was around. True to form, Swanblossom had a pinched expression on her face as she launched into it.

"You're getting in the habit of picking up strays," she said. Rainpaw bristled. What was that supposed to mean? "First Heatherclaw, and now this kit?"

"His name's Rambo."

"Rainpaw, just listen for once! You're playing a dangerous game here, and the more you go against OneClan's status quo, the less anyone can protect you! Froststar likes you best, but lately you've been pushing and pushing, and he's got a much shorter temper than you think. You don't want to be on the receiving end of it!"

Rainpaw lashed his tail and hissed back, "Let me make my own decisions, Swanblossom. You don't think I know how to look after myself? The last time I checked, picking up Rambo was the best thing to happen to this patrol. And don't forget, it was Heatherclaw who even told us about this place!"

Swanblossom shook her head angrily. "You still have no idea how the world works, Rainpaw. That's going to get you killed. I'm begging you, stop stepping forward and learn to blend in."

"Let me deal with my own life, Swanblossom, I don't need your help," Rainpaw scoffed. Before she could say anything else, Rainpaw swept forward to the front of the group.

Rambo seemed nervous. "I think we're getting close," he said.

"You think?"

The kit cringed. "Well it smells close," he whimpered. StarClan, had any of them been paying attention? Rainpaw froze and scented the air a few moments too late. Before he even had the chance to shout, the rogues had unpeeled from the shadows. As his cry finally fell from his lips, the rogues were already in the air, claws poised to slash and kill.

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