Chapter 2: The Stumbles
The angry black and red letters warning Oliver that no panhandling was allowed made his ears fold as he read them. Things would have been easier for him, yet now he has to change plans and figure out a solution. Stealing could be a solution, but then he had to worry about the consequences of getting caught. However, his gut howled a warning, and it hurt. He wanted something juicy and thick.
As Oliver ducked behind a group, avoiding a guard, he entered the mall. Decorations and lights shined brightly with holiday tunes playing in full blast. Kats wore heavier clothes and scarves. They shook a bit of snow off them as they entered. Kat's were meandering around or rushing to gather last-minute gifts. He could only imagine it, playing those homely movies about the holidays. The fat turkey, the songs, the presents, and a visit by an overweight tom-kat, who visits all the good kittens worldwide.
Oliver paused, feeling like he would not be on that list because of his plan. He wished that old tom would understand his situation. It's not like there was malice in his intent but survival. He just needed to survive and eat another day.
As Oliver drifted around, he noticed an opening. A she-kat sat on a nearby bench, her purse dangling on the edge. It's like she was tempting anyone to steal it. He hurried towards her, heading around and slowing his approach. However, he felt a sudden wave near him before he could snatch it. With a simple turn, he noticed a few kats watching him, their expression curious and concerned. Oliver slapped himself internally, forgetting that he stood out like a sore thumb. His garbs were dirty, and someone would think some unclean sheets wandered around the nice mall.
Oliver moved away, cursing the nosey people and wishing they would just let him be. He just needs some money and would go away from prying eyes till another call for food. Why couldn't these kats be like those kats from his neighborhood? They only bother someone if someone disturbs them unless someone owes them money. If someone, as he heard, was messing around with their mate. Then again, he listened to those two….
Oliver sighed, shaking his head. He just needed kats not to see him. However, he can't magically turn himself into a ghost. Maybe coming here wasn't such a great idea. There are too many eyes, and it would be a while till they ignore him like one of those creepy mannequins in front of the store windows.
As Oliver walked around, he noticed he had made his way to the food court. The smell of fried food, pastries, and goodness invaded his nostrils. He whimpered as his stomach cried for food.
With a glance around, Oliver noticed a kitten nearby with his family. Unlike him, the young white tabby seemed well off and enjoying his fries as he looked around. Their eyes met, and the kitten paused and waved at him. Oliver drifted closer, pushing his nervousness as he wondered if the kitten would share his food.
The tabby tail whisked around, eyeing Oliver but following the eyes towards the actual target. It was an excellent fat burger with bacon and sunny-side-up eggs that melted yellow goo from the side. He blinked and pointed at his burger, which got a nod from Oliver. With a simple nod and smile, the young tabby used his knife and tore a piece. The portion was a good size and halfway into Oliver's hands.
But then a paw appeared and jerked the young tabby's paw back. The mother's fierce eyes and hiss alerted them.
"Jonathan Furlington! We do not feed strangers, especially ones that could have fleas," the mother said, putting a barrier between Oliver and Jonathan. She looked at her boy before crunching her face in disgust at Oliver. "Go away. Shoo! Get away from us, or else."
Jonathan seemed lost, rubbing his hand and glancing at the two. "But mommy… he's hungry… we should help him," he whimpered.
"When you hand out, they never stop begging," the mother said, ignoring her son and flashing feint claws at Oliver. Her eyes burned with disgust and hate. "I swear I'm going to have to file a complaint against the owners for letting a rat inside."
Oliver didn't understand why Jonathan's mother was so mean to him. He didn't do anything except be hungry. From the corner of his eyes, other kats were eyeing him. He felt something choke up in him as they didn't seem like they would help him.
"Anna, stop making a scene," the father said with a cough. He'd been busy writing something down until he glanced around.
"Richard, don't tell me that I'm making a scene. He could have infected our baby with something or worse," Anna said, putting a paw on Jonathan's head.
Richard let out a heavy sigh. He pushed his glasses back and stared at Oliver. There was no hate in his eyes, just pure disinterest. "You're overreacting. Things are not transmitted like that. Either way, you there, leave us, or I'll call security."
While Oliver took one last look at Jonathan, Anna blocked him off. He saw Richard preparing to stand up and took it as his cue to leave. Never had he felt like this. Tram treated him like an employee, but he did not once humiliate him like this. His raspy, soft cry and falling tears made him wish someone would treat him differently. He hurried away and rushed to somewhere that no one would bother him.
Seeking shelter in a secluded spot, he hunkered down and crumbled to the floor, embracing himself to feel warmth. He hates this. He hated this so much. Why couldn't his life be like a TV show? They laugh, cry, and always stick together when things get tough. Oliver had no one but himself. Nowhere to go. He wondered if this would be his new norm.
The cries of the stomach interrupted his cries to whimpers. He needed food. If they beat him for stealing, he did not care. It is better to risk it than to die starving.
Jake couldn't help but stare at the bracelet wrapped around his wrist. It shined nicely, with crafted symbols like wires and chips and the lettering 'CF' in the middle. Then again, he couldn't help but glance at his mate's bracelet. Instead of cables and chips, it had clouds and winds with the same lettering. He couldn't have asked for more, getting a birthday present and a bonding bracelet. Chance knew how to surprise him, and he wondered how long he'd been working on them.
"Something on your mind?" Chance asked, wrapping his big arm around. He pulled Jake close and nuzzled their cheeks together. "Movie not good?"
"No, it was good! Sorry, I just can't keep looking away," Jake said, waving his hand. "Where and when did you have the time for this?"
Chance chuckled, leading them out of the mall's movie theater. "Let's just say you aren't the only one waking up early these past couple of months," he said, showing his big, goofy grin.
"That must have been hard. No wonder you were grouchy some days," Jake said. He laughed, knowing that Chance was not an early bird like him. "I love them. Though now I have to get you something better for the holidays."
"Don't sweat it, kitten. Plus, you've done things for me without asking. Like when you fixed that arcade game for me."
"That was done when I was just your best friend. I want to do something for you like a mate," Jake said. He blushed when Chance called him 'kitten.' It started out of the blue when they were officially dating.
Chance stopped them near a rail, placing and crossing his arms on it. He had a severe look. "I'm still your best friend. You are my mate, best friend, and once we legally bind us, husband," he clarified.
Jake put an arm around Chance's arm and nestled his head on him. "You better not expect me to wear a dress. I draw a line there."
Chance pouted before smirking. "But I'm the one that carries you around all the time. I had tons of practice when we were in the field. Not like you can pick me up."
Jake rolled his eyes, sending a quick, playful gut punch at Chance. "Hilarious. So me throwing grenades around is like throwing the bouquet?"
"Exactly."
Jake cupped his chin. "But didn't I save you from your crazy ex's vertigo beam? And again, when you became mutated. Seems like you are the damsel in distress in this relationship."
Chance frowned and opened his mouth until he closed it and stayed silent. He cupped his chin and squinted his eyes before grinning. "Mad Kat and those aliens bug from utter space."
"Two to two. Hmm…" Jake muttered, tapping his chin to think. Chance seemed to think as well to one-up him.
He's glad he and Chance still compete, no matter how things change. Then again, nothing changed except their relationship, if he thought about it. He wouldn't want Chance to change, as he loved him the way he was. The tabby was confident, brave, strong, and always stood up for the little guy. The way he laughs when watching his favorite show grins at his favorite VHS tape, and his childlike attitude to having fun always warms his heart. Chance would be a great father if they ever bother to adopt one or if they were serious about what they talked about with the girls when drunk that one night.
Jake stopped, returning his head close to Chance. His mate blinked away from his serious face and grinned. Chance nuzzled Jake's head.
"Whenever it happens," Jake muttered, purring at the touch.
"When what happens?" Chance said, pulling back and giving a curious look. He blinked and smirked. "Jake. We're in public. If you want, we can swing by somewhere more private, and you know…"
Jake felt his cheek flush. "Chance, can you please get your head out of sex?"
Chance cocked an eyebrow. "Huh? But you're the one touching my butt."
"I'm what?" Jake asked, glancing back.
A kitten had his hands on Chance's wallet. He froze until he dashed away, running away towards nearby escalators. Jake couldn't believe his eyes as he watched the boy go until his mate hurried after him. He followed them, hearing Chance hiss and shout some obscenities. It would have been an easy catch till the petty thief jumped in the middle of the escalators, sliding down fast to the bottom.
Chance nearly stumbled against the divider, catching himself quickly and taking a few steps down before jumping over the railing to reach the bottom faster. His mate smoothly landed and rolled forward, returning to dash towards the kitten.
Jake followed them from above, monitoring the kit, making sure he didn't duck somewhere. The little thing had some distance, but Chance would be on him in a few minutes. With one last look, the kitten turned to look back, only to smack into a floor display sign. A large thud rang out as he stumbled to the floor. A weird sound, like a hiss and mew, followed next. The kitten attempted to move, but Chance finally caught up and snatched him by the scruff.
Jake leaped off the rail and landed on the floor below. Some soft gasp rang out as he cushioned his fall and sprang forward. He did a quick wave to apologize and hurried to his mate. Raspy hisses and grunts filled the air as he watched his mate hold the spicy kit.
Chance unsheathed his claws and gripped the kit's scruff tighter. With a slight tug, the kitten stopped squirming, dangling in the air as he held on to the wallet. His mate looked furious until it softened as he inspected the kit. He eased his hold and turned the little fellow over to face him.
"Hand me my wallet," Chance asked with a paw up. The kitten shook his head and curled himself like a ball. Chance frowned, reaching in and ignoring the hiss as the kitten used a hand to fight him. Then, the kitten lunged at the paw when it got too close and bit it.
Jake felt slightly worried for the kit as his mate's patience was thin, and he sometimes had a volcanic temper when upset. Yet, his mate didn't react and simply raised the kit higher so they could be at eye level. The fierce, wild eyes of the kitten faded as they kept looking at each other. The kitten let go and raised the wallet to hand it to a bleeding paw.
"Your hand okay?" Jake said, stepping closer to them.
"Yeah, it's fine. The little fellow can bite, but I've dealt with worse," Chance said, putting his wallet back where it belonged. He looked at the kit again, and his expression softened. "So… you gonna tell me why you stole my wallet?"
The kitten ignored him, proceeding to curl himself and hold himself close.
Jake could only share the same concerned look with his mate. It didn't take a genius to see that this kit was poor. The poor excuse of clothing looked like dirty rags with holes and rips everywhere. It was a miracle it was still holding itself together. The front of the kitten's shoes had holes, exposing his toes. His fur is dirty as clumps form around the kitten's body. For Jake, it took every ounce of him not to wince at the terrible state of the kit.
"Take care of that hand. Let me hold him," Jake said, signaling to the nearby bathroom. Chance nodded, handing the kitten over and heading towards the bathroom. "Don't worry, little one. My mate isn't angry at you, and neither am I."
The kitten blinked, giving a disbelief look and staying perfectly still as Jake cradled him. He tapped his fingers together and looked away. Jake felt his heart clench at the sight, adjusting his hold and putting the kit closer to his chest. The kitten didn't fight him and stayed silent, focusing on the bathroom.
It didn't take long for Chance to come back. He stopped before them and turned his attention to the kit.
"Are you in a better mood to talk?" Chance said. No response. "Where's your parents? Or are you all alone?" No response. "Okay, how about why you stole from…"
The kitten's stomach cries out, and he whimpers. The kitten ducked his head and looked away, covering his face.
Chance blinked, his serious look turning to a wan smile. He gave Jake a face, and he could perfectly understand his thoughts. "Say, I'm hungry. Since the kit is with us, how about we treat him to something? Right, Jake?"
"Of course. Hey, little one, how about a nice juicy burger?"
The kitten's ear flicked, letting his hands down and glancing at both. He gave a slight nod before burying himself deeper into Jake's chest to hide.
Jake smiled, stepping forward until he noticed the few kats staring at them. These kats' prying eyes were curious, staring a little too hard to his liking. He ducked his head and pushed the kit closer.
"Hey, this isn't a show. Mind your damn business," Chance shouted, placing a hand on Jake's shoulder. The kats stopped their gawking and proceeded with whatever they were doing. "You okay, kitten?"
Jake felt the pressure leaving him, and he nodded. "Thanks, Chance. Let's go before the kit's stomach starts complaining."
"Roger that."
They headed off, returning to the escalator and ignoring the few stares. It seemed like forever until they finally arrived at the food court. Jake stayed with the kitten, and Chance went to grab the food.
The kitten didn't do much but stare at them or around, perfectly staying in place. That's until Chance arrived with the food. He snatched the burger before the tray hit the table.
Jake grabbed it quickly, getting an angry mew. "Don't wolf it down. You're going to barf it out if you eat like that. Eat slowly and drink. Trust me," he said, handing the burger back.
The kitten sighed, nodding his head and taking his time to eat. His frown turned to a smile as he happily ate and drank his food. He'd been sitting rather tensely before but now had relaxed shoulders and swinging his dangling legs.
Deciding to take a risk, Jake shuffled closer and stroked the kitten's head. The kitten didn't react and kept eating. It made him glad the kitten eased up. However, there were too many questions that needed to be answered. Yet, it hurt to believe that anyone would abandon their kit. For him, it seemed challenging to speak and confirm his suspicion.
"Hey, kiddo. You don't have parents, do you?" Chance said. Of course, Chance had no problem asking. He's pretty good at facing issues and one to never mince words with other kats unless those issues are about something he found embarrassing to share, like his previous inability to swim or fear of bugs.
The kitten stopped, taking a moment before shaking his head.
Chance frowned, letting his burger down. "So you're an orphan?". The kitten nodded. "Do you live in a foster home?" Another shake. Chance rubbed his neck. "So that explains why you were stealing?" The kitten ducked his head and nodded slowly.
"How old are you?" Jake asked, seeing the kitten raise his finger to show his age. "Six!" he said in shock. The kitten nodded, taking the last bite of his burger and munching on his fries.
Chance had the same expression as him. What are they going to do? Hearing a kitten being alone in this big city was rather depressing. Maybe the kit was another poor soul who lost his family during an omega attack. Kitten services do their best to wrangle orphan kittens and place them in foster homes, yet like the Enforcers, they have been struggling because of the inept ex-mayor. Callie has her work cut out, fixing all the mistakes and ensuring the city doesn't implode on itself.
Jake felt torn, knowing he wanted to help, but realizing they had a secret beneath the garage, adding a kitten to the mix could make things difficult for them. A foster home should be the call, but he knew the kitten would be in the same boat as the other orphans. Foster homes will feed and clothe them, but their emotional need would be lacking. This was a mess.
Looking at his mate, he hoped to find a solution. Chance had been staring at the kitten, probably thinking the same thing as him. His mate looked up with eyes that read, 'Why not? We've been thinking about it.'
Jake felt warm and scared, feeling like things were going too fast and that this was something they should do. He felt conflicted but felt his want was beating his worries. Regardless, he needed to see if the kitten was up for it before he jumped to a conclusion.
That's when Jake froze when he realized something. He smacked himself internally as he should know the kitten's name before anything.
"Say…. Uh, do you have a name?" Jake said.
The kitten's ears perked up, halting his reach for another fry. A big smile appeared as he opened his mouth only to stop and touch his throat. He had such a defeated look as he sighed.
"Something wrong with your throat?" Jake said.
The kitten nodded, pointing at his throat and making a cross sign.
"You can't talk?" Chance added, getting another nod.
The kitten looked miserable as he looked around. His eyes drifted around, and he stared at a ketchup packet. He fiddled with it until he grinned, ripping the top and spilling on the table. With a few scribbles, he made some messy but still readable letters.
O-L-I-V-E-R. Oliver.
"Oliver, huh?" Jake said. "Pretty smart of you to use the packet."
Oliver blushed, waving his hand.
"Good job, kit. However, we don't want to give the poor workers extra work," Chance added, handing some napkins to Oliver.
Oliver looked a bit disappointed and nodded. He cleaned the mess and threw the wet paper on the tray.
"Say, Oliver. Do you want to go to a foster…" Jake would have finished if the kitten hadn't panicked and appeared ready to book it. He held his hand, and Oliver let out a mew as he shook his head. "Okay… okay… no foster home. Then… how about this? Wanna come with us?"
Oliver froze, blinking for a moment before glancing at the two. He tilted his head and gave a confused look.
Chance laughed, gently patting Oliver's head. "You heard right. How about it, kit? We have an extra room. Though I'll be honest, we aren't rich or anything. It's not much… plus we do live in a salvage yard," he said with a bit of shame. He frowned and sighed. "We can't offer much, but it's better than living in the streets. But it's up to you."
Oliver tapped his hands on the table, mulling over it as he eyed them. He looked at the tray and then at them. With slow hands, he pointed at them.
Chance gave Jake a humorous look. "Alright, then you are stuck with us," he said, chuckling. His face got serious, and he crossed his arms. "There are some ground rules you must respect and obey—first, no more stealing. Second, what we say goes. And finally, no snooping around. If we tell you not to go somewhere, then don't go there. Is that understood?"
Oliver nodded his head fast.
"Alright. Oh yeah, my name is Chance Furlong," Chance said, pointing at himself. He pointed at Jake. "And this is my mate, Jake Clawson."
Jake looked up. The sky was turning orange and yellow. "Seems we got to start heading off," he said before covering his nose. He didn't want to, but the smell was picking up. "Plus, someone needs a shower badly."
Oliver sniffed the air, shrugging his shoulder and jumping off the chair. Chance and Jake stood, heading towards the exit with Oliver following them.
Not how Jake planned his birthday to end, but he pushed any worries and accepted this alternative path. There would be a lot of paperwork, but he could ask Callie for help. How hard can it be? They fight evil time wizards and plants daily, so it should be a piece of cake.
Jake felt something grabbing his hand. At first, he thought it was Chance, though it was smaller than those enormous paws. As he looked, Oliver's tiny paws held onto him as he glanced around. With the last shake of his worry, Jake reaffirmed his resolve to take care of the kitten and held Oliver's paw.
"Hmm… I wonder how it's going with the girls," Chance mused.
"Oh, right," Jake said, focusing on Chance. "That's today, isn't it?"
Callie wondered if she was dreaming, feeling she was looking at Feral but knowing it was his brother, Markus. They were born the same day, yet they weren't precisely twins, though they shared some similarities. They had the same fur color, ebony hair, height, eye color, and square face. However, Markus didn't have the military cut like Feral. Instead, he had long hair that was slicked back.
Plus, he smiled. He fucking smiled.
"Everything okay… uh," Markus said, scratching his scruffy curly fur on his cheek. "I'm still wrapping my head about what to call you. Mayor Briggs or Callie, or how does my little princess call you?"
It took everything not to snort at hearing Felina being called princess. "You can call me Cal if it makes things easier for you," she said, looking around the lovely home.
Markus and his wife, Shelia, lived near the shore in a modest house, almost like a log cabin and a modern home. They owned a good chunk of land with a beautiful private beach. Markus was a professor at the university teaching history, while Shelia was a doctor and a general surgeon. It didn't take long for Callie to get the story of how they met. Feral got injured, and these two met because of that.
Markus nodded, giving a big cheerful grin as he glanced towards the kitchen, where Felina was helping her mom clean up. He coughed. "Cal. All I have to say is that I'm happy for both of you. Though I'll be honest, I expected to have to put up a front if Felina brought a boy, so call me unprepared," he said, letting a considerable bellow laugh.
Callie grinned. "Oh, do tell. What grand scheme were you cooking up?"
"Suppose I must be serious and stare down the poor fellow. Like this," Markus said, pointing at his face. For a second, he perfectly mimicked the signature Feral scowl. However, it wavered a few seconds later with a grin. "But I'll probably lose it after a couple of minutes."
Callie giggled. Markus had been such a treat since she got here. He was the first to meet them and wrap his enormous arms around them. For a professor, he was fit as brick and could pick them up with ease. Felina hissed at her father to let her go, and, to this day, this is the only male that Callie knew could get away hugging Felina without getting slammed to the ground. That's when Markus revealed his other nickname for her little girl.
My little rose. A nickname that perfectly embodies Felina's beauty and sharp thorns for those who dared to handle her wrong.
Callie swears Markus made it too easy to gather material to poke fun at her mate later. However, the more Markus talked, the more she saw Felina ducking her head deeper into the dirt. Shelia was the mediator and would reel in her husband or tell Felina to behave when she was on the edge of saying something.
Now Shelia was such a patient molly, having a soft but affirmative voice. Her fur was white, though her tail was a mix of it and orange. She had such a sweet smile, though her eyes had bags, and sometimes looked tired when talking. The omega attacks were putting the medical workers on overtime, and Callie could just imagine how hectic it was after each bout in the city.
Callie frowned. "Does Shelia tell you how bad it is?" she said, though regretting as she didn't want to ruin the mood. However, she felt it was her duty to see how the medical field was doing.
Markus winced, stopping mid-drink and setting it down. He glanced at his drink, then the kitchen, and back to Callie. "Shelia tries her best. Despite knowing that the job deals with more losses than wins. However, the losing battles seem to overshadow even the smallest wins."
Callie nodded, hating that she had caused Markus to lose his smile. She could only imagine how Shelia was when they were not there.
"Though I must imagine your job isn't easy either," Markus said. He put his hands together and gave a wan smile. "Outstanding leaders must make tough decisions and accept the consequences, hoping it's for the better," he said, glancing towards the beach. "I've heard about what happened with Mac and Molly Mange when you were deputy mayor. You stayed on the path of justice but inadvertently created the Metallikats."
Callie sighed, remembering how she denied their parole. "Yeah. Not exactly how I planned things to go."
"However, you did the right thing. In my opinion, that is. Some weaker leaders would have accepted their bribe or been too lax with their rules. Now, you are the leader of our rather large home. How long? Who knows? But you have to make it count and understand that there will be consequences regardless of what you do," Markus said, rubbing his chin.
"I hope I don't regret it," Callie muttered, feeling a bit of the weight on her shoulder.
"Sorry, I wasn't trying to be all doom and gloom. History has countless examples of how civilizations fall. Manx was a coward but knew how to bring business to the city. Granted, if he put more effort into putting the funds in the right place, he could have been a good leader," Markus said with a shrug. He tapped his drink and leaned back. "So, what kind of leader will you be?"
Callie felt like Markus was interviewing her. Honestly, the drive faded when she won. She now had the chance to change the city, but there was an invisible mountain she didn't get to see till she became mayor. Some council members support her dreams, while others are less enthusiastic. Sometimes, she wished she could solve the problem the way she does with omegas. One call and the Swat Kats would deal with it. However, they didn't know how to fight this battle, nor did her girl.
Callie looked at her drink, seeing a reflection of herself. She smiled, almost imagining her younger self wanting to help the less fortunate. That's when it hit her. They weren't equipped with this kind of battle, but she was. She went to school, learned law and politics, and had to prove herself before many tom-kats. She told herself never to back down and to strive to achieve her dream. It hurt to see the mountain, but it's not like she hasn't done it before. Another brutal climb. This time, however, she knew there would be the sun's warm glow if she made it to the top.
With determination, she looked back at Markus. "I want to become the best mayor the city ever had. I want my citizens to sleep easier at night, go home to their families in one piece, and bring us to a golden age. A future that's brighter and more promising. The first step in achieving this is by funding the Enforcers. Once our sword and shield are up to date, we can focus more on other sectors that desperately need it."
Markus snorted. "A golden age, huh? Almost sounds too perfect."
"I don't promise perfect," Callie corrected. "I promise to put my entire energy into fixing this city. One brick at a time. It will be a long, hard journey, but you can't start if you don't take the first step."
Markus smiled, lifting his drink. "Ain't that the truth? Well, you have an ambitious goal. Shelia and I wish you good luck and will be in your corner. Cheers to the future."
Callie nodded, lifting her drink and drinking it. The taste of old wine touched her tongue, and the smooth aroma filled her nostrils.
Markus put his drink down and stood up with a big grin. "Say, let's change topics into something more mundane. How about I show you photos of my little rose when she was wearing a diaper?"
Callie's ears twitch. "Please lead the way."
Felina was going to kill them when she saw them.
So worth it, Callie thought as she followed the giddy Markus towards the hall.
This was not worth it. Tram knew he should have stuck with the usual jobs as he scampered around the alley with a broken leg. Then again, he should have returned to the gym sooner; thus, he wouldn't have missed his jump earlier. It hurt like hell. Hopefully, he could fix it in some underground clinic. But for now, he had to focus on running.
"Shit," Tram whispered, seeing a spotlight heading in his direction. He ducked down and bit his lip as his leg cried out in pain. The light passed him, and the vehicle continued ahead. However, those kats were hunting for him, so he couldn't breathe easier till he escaped the area. "Screw it. I better leave the city. Fucking Deacon. Could have warned me earlier."
Tram knew things had gone wrong when Deacon didn't pick up the phone. At first, he thought the tom had reconsidered and saved his little offspring. It wasn't his fault that Deacon had given up being a father and thrown the kitten at him. What did he expect? For good old Tram to drop the little pest into a foster home? Fuck that. He would use Deacon's sperm as a runner when he could think and walk. It was a blessing that the little shit could not talk. He had one of his drugged-up ex-girlfriends take 'care' of the kit until he was ready. It worked like he imagined, evading the eyes of the law and slipping past any rival gangs. It was a good two years until Deacon's new girl hacked and gathered a pretty exciting list.
Tram used the trash can nearby to stand back up. He wobbled around, taking a corner and seeing a parking lot. He grinned, thanking one of his tails for convincing him to have a backup car if things got dicey. That tail was something making him regret not being able to see it again.
With a look to his left and right, Tram hurried across the street towards the parking lot. Thankfully, he parked the getaway car on the first floor. Or it would have been a bitch to get up those stairs. As he limped inside and across the somewhat empty floor, he tried remembering where he missed the step. Where did he stumble?
There was no way they should have known that he was involved. Deacon was a thug but lived by the code and would never snitch on anyone. The tom mentioned that his girl kicked the hornet's nest when retrieving the information, but it was not enough for them to track her. They barely talked about the job as he looked for a buyer. He didn't say anything to anyone. No, he spoke to someone a day before he sent the kit out. He got high with one of his favorite girls and mentioned it during their playtime. That she-kat would not betray him as he was the only source of income for her to support her brother in jail.
"Then how did they know?" Tram kept asking himself. Things weren't making sense, and it was making his head spin. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and unlocked the black vehicle.
Tram hissed as he hopped in, resting before putting the key in the ignition. It didn't matter now. Once they fixed his leg, Tram would forever say goodbye to Megakat City.
As he turned the key, no sound came from the engine.
"Huh?" Tram said, trying again. Nothing happened.
Suddenly, he felt something around his mouth. He attempted to jerk free, but a powerful arm had him down, and the potent smell of ammonia had his head spinning. His eyes fluttered before he could…
Tram cried as he felt a sting on his leg, jerking back awake. Someone had his finger on his injured leg, but he could not see who the fucker was as they put something over his head. He panted, feeling the icy breeze touching his fur. The jacket he had should have kept him warm, but he could feel whoever had him stripped him down to his undies.
"Glad you could join us," said a smooth voice. "Tram Mewller. A well-known dealer that sells…whelp… most about everything. Don't you ever think that sometimes you should consider what you are selling? It might come to bite your tail one day."
"And you are?" Tram said, trying to shift up but could feel they expertly tie him down to a chair. It would be useless to escape, especially with his leg. "Which asshole am I talking to?"
"Unfortunately, most of us aren't here. Too busy trying to extinguish the flame you and your partner caused us. Would you…"
Tram heard someone moving close, lifting the hood off him and seeing three kats around him. The one who raised his hood was a rather brutish-looking fellow with broad shoulders. Despite his soft blue eyes, round face, short hair, white fur, and a pink nose, the tom had a severe look. The second kat, the skinny one, seemed agile despite his scruffy appearance and messy hair. Short-faced, dark blue fur, and puffy neck. All three were wearing Enforcer uniforms with different ranks. The third and biggest one lazily sat back and was recognizable from the last two. He saw that Main Coon in the news in his brief interviews.
"Reiko Saber," Tram said, feeling his lips get dry.
"The only one," Reiko said, shrugging shoulders and putting his hands up. He dropped his hand and jumped to his feet. "I have… a few questions. Depending on how you answer them, they would either kill or save you."
Tram gulped, wondering if he could get out of this. He glanced around, seeing that they were in some building being constructed. Judging by the level at which he saw the tower crane, they were pretty high.
A sharp sting made Tram yell out as he felt the snowball tom squeezing his leg. It hurt like hell, and he felt electric currents stabbing his head. He screamed and jerked in his chair. "Fucking stop. Stop!"
"Then listen up!" the snowball hissed, letting go and standing straight up. He crossed his enormous arms and eyed Tram with disgust.
"Hey, Fletcher, ease up. The fat little turd is going to faint if you do that," the skinnier kat said. He seemed bored, leaning back against a steel beam.
"How about you butt off, Cade?" Fletcher snapped.
"How about you use your head?" Cade retorted.
Fletcher hissed, approaching Cade. Cade's ears perked up, and he got off the steel beam, taking a defensive stance.
"Are you two done?" Reiko said, letting out a massive sigh before smiling. Cade dropped his hand, and Fletcher stopped his movements. "We got bigger fish to fry at the moment. If you two want to kill each other, then do it another time."
"Sorry, Reiko," both said, ducking their heads and exchanging glares.
Reiko strolled towards Tram, stopping before him. "First question. Do you know where your little friend, Deacon, and that molly are hiding?"
"Nope," Tram said truthfully.
"Do you know where they would hide?"
"Deacon is a brute, but he's street smart. Plus, with that jumpy tech geek at his side, they could be anywhere and be ready if you ever find them," Tram said. He wished he kept better tabs on that brown tom. "The kit could be anywhere at this point. Maybe start checking your local foster homes for him."
Tram felt a sharp stab when Reiko slammed his meaty paw on his injured leg. He howled and gritted his teeth, futility jerking his feet.
Reiko had a furious look, brushing his hair back before easing up. "Don't get cheeky with me, you piece of trash. Next question. Do you have any pictures of the kit or distinctive markings to look for?"
Tram whimpered, attempting to shake the pain as he thought about it. There were no pictures, and he barely cared enough to remember every detail of the kit. This was going terribly, and he felt they would kill him. There had to be something or someone that could help him.
"I think one of my girls can help you with that," Tram said with a heavy breath. "Listen, I'm sorry for crossing you. How about I become your seller? I'm a pretty good one."
Reiko ignored him, turning to face Cade and Fletcher. "Run his phone and start asking around."
"Roger," both said, heading towards the nearby elevator.
Reiko pulled out a cigar and lit it with his lighter, taking a significant amount before letting out a massive smoke. He tapped the cigar and turned to Tram. "Last two questions," he said, returning to Tram. "What exactly are we looking for? The kit didn't have a bag, so how is he transporting the information?"
Tram thought about it, feeling colder than before. "If I was a betting tom. That bitch probably made something small to hide a thumb drive. Maybe a bracelet or necklace."
"Hmm… we are getting to where we can store information on small devices. No more gigantic machines to store data. Isn't it impressive?" Reiko said, getting close and puffing a cloud of smoke at Tram.
Tram coughed, wishing he could punch the son of a bitch. "I guess."
Reiko placed both hands on Tram's shoulder. "Last question," he said, gripping hard. He smiled. "Do you like to fly?"
"What?" Tram blurted.
Suddenly, Tram felt Reiko push him back, feeling a cold air rush as he plummeted. Tram could see the bastard eyeing him from the edge where Reiko had thrown him. However, Reiko became smaller and smaller with every second. Tram screamed louder than he had ever cried before.