Catboy - Eric Walters [47]
I raced around the corner. She was standing on top of a car with a cage in her hands.
“That raccoon!” she exclaimed, pointing. “It almost ran me over!”
“Up there?” I exclaimed.
“No, no, down there. He ran right by me.”
“How did you get up there?” Simon asked.
“I jumped, one jump. It just came out of nowhere and—”
“I have to follow him!” I yelled, taking off after Rocky.
He ran through the center of the colony. Dr. Reynolds and Doris were on the edge of the clearing and saw him. He was hard to miss. With Simon at my side, I ran after Rocky, who had now reached the far side of the clearing and disappeared between two rows of wrecks.
Dr. Reynolds met us as we approached the gap Rocky had slipped through.
“That is one gigantic raccoon!” Dr. Reynolds exclaimed.
“That’s Rocky,” I explained.
I started after him again, but Dr. Reynolds reached out and grabbed my arm. “I think we better give him a wide berth. Raccoons can be dangerous, especially when they’re cornered.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I said. “We have to follow him. He’s taking us to Hunter.”
Dr. Reynolds either didn’t understand or didn’t believe me—but why would he?
“Really, he is,” I exclaimed. “I have to follow him or we may never find Hunter. You have to believe me. You have to trust me.”
He let go of my arm. “I lead. You follow.”
“And I’ll wait right here,” Simon offered.
I knew Simon wasn’t convinced of any of this, but what could I expect? It didn’t make much sense.
Dr. Reynolds started down a narrow path. Wherever Rocky had gone, he wasn’t in sight. There were so many little side passages, nooks and crannies where he could have disappeared. We’d just have to search.
I was grateful Dr. Reynolds was with me. Not just because it meant another set of eyes, but it was a little scary to be in here following a gigantic raccoon. Just because I’d given him a name didn’t mean he wasn’t a wild animal—a big wild animal—and I was following him through a junkyard.
“There he is,” Dr. Reynolds whispered softly.
He was sitting in the shadows of a big truck piled on the top of a crushed car. And in the shadows, tucked beneath the car, was a hole. Was that Rocky’s den? Was that his hole? Was he running in there to get away from us? It couldn’t be his den. The opening was way too small to allow him in.
With his front paws, Rocky began digging at the little hole, kicking up stones and clumps of frozen dirt.
“What’s he doing?” I asked.
“He’s digging, but I don’t know why. There’s no way he can make that hole big enough for himself. Maybe there’s food down there he’s trying to get at,” Dr. Reynolds suggested.
Not food. Hunter. Hunter was down that hole.
Rocky stopped digging, but his face, his entire head, was in the hole.
“I have no idea what he is doing,” Dr. Reynolds said.
I did. Hunter was down that hole, and Rocky was talking to him. I knew it. I also knew I couldn’t tell Dr. Reynolds that.
Rocky pulled his head out of the hole and looked me in the eye. He let out a little cry, nodded his head slightly, lifted up one front paw and waved. He then turned and ran off, vanishing between the wrecks.
“That was certainly strange,” Dr. Reynolds said. “I have never seen a raccoon do something like that. He is incredibly big.”
“And incredibly smart,” I added.
I rushed over to the hole and tried to peer down. It was too deep, too dark, to see down to the bottom.
“Hunter is down there,” I said. “In this hole.”
“You can see him?”
“It’s too dark. I can’t see anything, but I know he’s down there.”
Dr. Reynolds didn’t argue. But I didn’t expect him to. I knew, despite all his scientific training, he believed me.
He came over, pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and shone it down the hole. It was deep. Dr. Reynolds moved the flashlight around so the beam would reach the bottom. Eyes reflected back! There were two big bright sets of eyes.
“They’re down there!” I exclaimed. “It’s Hunter and Miss Mittens!”
“It is,” Dr. Reynolds said. “And they’re not alone.”
“Not alone. There’s another cat?”
“Judging from