Catboy - Eric Walters [53]
“It is quiet here. There really aren’t that many people who come out this way, although it seems busy today, especially for the winter,” Dr. Reynolds said.
It wasn’t city crowded, but there were more people than I would have expected. There were couples pushing strollers, people on bikes, joggers and people just out for a stroll. They created a steady stream of traffic. Dr. Reynolds said we should try to be inconspicuous, but the sound of lots of cats calling out like they were being killed wasn’t the best way to blend into the background.
It was getting close to nightfall. We probably had no more than an hour before sunset. Dr. Reynolds said we needed enough time and enough light to release the cats, but not so much light that we’d be seen. What we were doing wasn’t really illegal, but it wasn’t really legal either.
We’d repeatedly cruised past the spot where the colony was going to be reestablished. From the road, I could see a patchwork of partially buried concrete blocks, as well as some holes in the ground. It didn’t look like much, but then again, neither did the junkyard.
“I think it’s time,” Dr. Reynolds said.
A chill went up my spine.
We waited for a couple of runners to jog past. They had earbuds in, so they weren’t able to hear the cats.
Dr. Reynolds pulled the van over to the side, off the road and onto the gravel shoulder. He turned the engine off, and for a few seconds even the cats were silent, as if they knew something was about to happen. I knew what was going to happen, but I didn’t know exactly how it was going to happen.
“We’re going to have to do this all very quickly,” Dr. Reynolds said. “From start to finish, we need to have all of this done and us gone within fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“And if we take longer?” Simon asked.
“With each minute there’s an ever-increasing risk somebody might call the police. We can’t expect every officer to react like the last one.”
“And what could they do?” my mother asked. “Would they charge us with something?”
“I don’t even know what they could charge us with— littering maybe?” He laughed. “But still, we want to get this done quickly. Okay?”
“No arguments,” I said. “Devon and his dad and the others are supposed to be here soon. Should we wait for them?”
“We don’t have time to wait. If they come, great, but let’s get started. We’ll get the cages out and place them beside those cement blocks.”
“Are there places for them to go? Nests, dens?” I asked.
“Plenty. This area used to hold a whole colony.”
“What happened to those cats?” my mother asked.
“It might have been a disease, but it’s been vacant for over two years. Whatever the problem was, it won’t be a problem now,” Dr. Reynolds said. “The junkyard cats are very healthy. I only wish I’d had time to examine and inoculate the last group of cats we captured.”
There hadn’t been any time. We’d come from the junkyard straight here. At least I knew Hunter was healthy.
“We’re going to send somebody here every day for the next few weeks to feed them and help them settle in,” Doris said. “The secret to reestablishing a colony is to give them massive quantities of food so they don’t wander off, and to make sure the place is as contained as possible.”
“You mean like with a fence?” I asked.
“Exactly. The whole spit is fenced in,” Dr. Reynolds said. “And someone will be here every day to monitor the situation.”
“Do you think I could come too?” I asked.
“It’s pretty far from our apartment,” my mother said.
“Not every day, but some of the times?” I pleaded.
“I’ll drive you here some of the times myself,” Dr. Reynolds said. “Now, enough talking, we have to get going. Aim the openings of the cages toward the holes in the ground. As soon as a trap is empty, bring it back into the van.” He paused. “Once we get started, we just keep going, no stopping for anything. As soon as this next car passes, go. Get on your gloves.”
We pulled on our heavy work gloves and watched as a little car approached, heading out of the park.
“Okay, go!”
We jumped out of the van. Dr. Reynolds