AmyStrange & the Criminal

(PART 1: THE ESCAPE)
A Novel By Dave Ayotte

ADVISORY: EXPLICIT CONTENT
(LOTS OF SWEARING)

IMPORTANT NOTE TO YOU, THE READER:
This book is being published on a very small budget, none, and I couldn't afford to pay anyone else to proofread it. It took me four years, but I'm sure you'll still find some mistakes. I take responsibility and apologize for each and every one of them,

sincerely,
Dave Ayotte

COPYRIGHT PAGE

This is a work of fiction. All the characters, locations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of my imagination or are used fictitiously. This novel is also set in an Alternate Universe, and any similarities between my characters and real ones are purely coincidental.

AmyStrange & the Criminal (PART 1: THE ESCAPE)

Copyright © 2019 by David P. Ayotte

All rights reserved, including distribution through video, audio, digital or print media.

Published by A Touch of Madness:
(Go here to see more from this author)
http://www.atomadness.com/

In association with:
http://www.amystrange.org/

AmyStrange & the Criminal (PART 1: THE ESCAPE) is free. It can be copied and distributed to anyone and everyone, but only if it’s distributed for free*, and in its entirety, including the copyright page. If you resell it, please make it legal by donating your two cents ($.02) here:
http://www.amystrange.org/d.html

or here:
https://www.humanesociety.org/

Thank You,
Dave Ayotte

*This does not apply to Amazon.com, **or reviews.

In memory of the real AmyStrange

Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Excerpt from Part 2

Chapter 16

Acknowledgments

Additional Titles by this Author

PART 1: THE ESCAPE

QUICKIE:

AmyStrange, a talking Cat with a knack for finding missing persons, teams up with the Criminal, a cat killer riddled with guilt, his fiancée, secret friends, and eventually the FBI, to find missing persons.

PART 1:

The Criminal, his fiancée, and secret friends help AmyStrange to escape from her captors.

SERIES OVERVIEW:

After killing his pet kitten in an uncontrollable rage, the guilt forces the Criminal to spend the rest of his life saving abused animals. It's either that or commit suicide. Dying while saving an animal seemed like the better choice.

It also gives him these uncontrollable impulses to do crazy things, like running blindly across a busy highway to save a bird or diving headfirst off the side of a bridge to save some drowning bunnies.

He tries to make fun of it, but ever since meeting his dream girl, Beth, he worries constantly about killing her in an uncontrollable rage too.

He enlist a crazy shrink, Dr. Zinger, for help, but all she suggest is that he start a Journal.

This is it, but what's crazy is while writing it, he also meets a talking Cat, AmyStrange, and begins to wonder if maybe it isn't a sign that he's about to go bonkers, out of control, crazy and maybe kill Beth for real.

He knows she won't go down easy. She'll probably kill him first, or just shoot him in the leg. She carries a Glock 19 with her everywhere and is better than an expert shot, even when she's blindfolded.

The Cat begs the Criminal to help her escape, and the adventures that follow are not only hilarious but also a dark look at the disturbing worlds of missing persons, euthanasia, animal abuse and mental illness.

It truly is a joyride through hell.

CHAPTER 1

Wednesday, October 15th (dictated 4:20 pm, Oct 29).
The guy at the store said it’d be easy, but he must’ve been drunk, because the instructions were pure, fucking gibberish.

Here, check it out.

No thanks. I get enough of that gibberish crap from you and guess what? Now you know how I feel. Hey! What the f... look!

What?

The screen. Look at the screen.

Look at the...? Holy shit! It’s working! It’s finally fucking working! Yay! Yay! Yay!

Calm down, Jumpity Sam. It’s just a dictating program, and not the cure for cancer, but it is pretty cool watching our words pop up.

It’s almost instantaneous, like... like it can read our minds or something.

I think that's called auto-fill.

Auto what?

Auto-fill. The machine’s predicting what we’re gonna say.

Oh, ok, but other than that, doesn’t it still look weird?

It does a little. All that space and shouldn’t there be quotation marks or something? Wow! Now it looks even weirder, or in your case, dorkier.

I should fix that.

You can’t fix dorky, and I know, because I’ve been trying for almost nine years now, and you’re still a dork.

Come on. Am I that bad? Really?

Well, it’s more funny than true, but you do have your moments.

Now that, I have to agree with, but what’s with the dork fixation all of a sudden?

I was playing around online, you know, looking for weird shit, and I ran across something called Dorks-Are-You, and it’s funny as hell.

Dorks-Are-You? Are you sure that’s not Dorks-Are-Us?

Nope. You’re the dork, not me, and it’s got all the latest dork news, weather, jokes, and even has a crossword puzzle. Did you know that dorks can now wear jeans? I didn’t even know that was a problem.

The weather too? How’s that work?

The same as ours, except it doesn’t seem to do anything but rain in Dorkland. As a matter of fact, it’s been the headline news for weeks, and that pretty much sums up your whole life, doesn’t it?

It kinda does, but shouldn’t I say something nice here, you know, like how you give me all the sunshine I need, and those raindrops are really just tears of happiness, or something sappy like that?

Hmm, those aren’t too bad for a dork.

Ok, enough with the dork jokes, please, and besides, I’ve always worn jeans. I’ve got some on right now, damn it.

I know. That’s what’s so confusing about it.

Whatever. Now please, let me concentrate, so I can find where she... Fuck!

Now what?

Now I’ve got to start adding context. Fuck!

Context?

“You’ll see. Settings... settings? Ok, there we go, click, click, click, aha and voila! There you go my love, quotation marks and all that other jazz.”

“Nice, but now, about this arch-enemy thing. What’s up with that? She’s like what, fourteen-years-old? How can you possibly hate a fourteen-year-old?”

“I know, I know, but I don’t hate her, Beth. She’s just diabolical, and if you don’t watch her like a freakin’ hawk, she’ll be running this place, and then we’ll be out on the street, shoveling dirt for peanuts.”

“Ok, this is one of those times, Crim, because what the hell does that even mean? Shoveling dirt for peanuts?”

“It just means that she’s trouble with a capital T.”

Beth rolled her eyes.

“Now see, that’s just more gibberish, on top of all that other gibberish, but whatever,” she said.

“Personally, I think she’s nice.”

“That’s the diabolical part, and it’s what arch-enemies do. They act all nice and shit, and make you feel all safe and secure and happy, and then they pounce.”

“Pounce?”

“Jump, or leap on you, like a rabid peanut butter cookie and suck you dry from the inside out.”

“Sheesh. I’m sorry I even asked now, and I’ll probably also regret this, but what’s this for?” Beth asked, pointing to the computer.

After asking, she thought about it for a few seconds, and then realized she already knew the answer and just needed me to confirm it.

“What answer? What the hell are you talking about?” Beth asked with disgust.

“I did not ask that with disgust,” Beth said with even more disgust.

“Hey!”

“That’s what I mean by context,” I said and chuckled.

While fiddling around with the settings, I added, “This is for that Journal Dr. Zinger wants. Remember?”

“I do, but not about that, ‘cause I can’t tell if you’re talking to me or the freakin’ machine?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, pretending to be perplexed too, but I knew exactly what she was talking about. I just wanted to screw around with her head a little bit.

“You weasel! That part, and all that other dramatic context crap,” Beth said, and then laughed.

“This Journal’s gonna be one long dramatic lie, ain’t it?”

“It’s what Dr. Zinger wants. She thinks my feelings are way more important than your damn facts,” I said and continued to fiddle with some of the other settings.

“If you’re gonna get that worked up about it, you can add stuff at the end.”

“But what about your lies? Do I also get to fix those, or maybe, if you want, I could spice it up a whole lot and make it even more unbelievable.”

“Spice it up? No, and no, you don’t get to fix my... ARRRGH!! You can add stuff at the end, and that’s it!” I tried to pretend I was mad, but that fucking crooked smile of yours.

“Damn it, Beth! Stop it!”

“Ok, that still might be fun,” she said, and even stopped smiling.

“You know, Crim. I’m kinda beginning to like this context thing of yours. I can’t wait to read it and add my own.”

“When I’m done.”

“If you say so,” she said, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head. She’s cooking something up.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got something cooking, all right. Dr. Zinger and I are gonna straighten your ass out, and you can take that to the bank, buster.”

“That reminds me. How’s dinner coming along?”

“Darryl’s doing an awesome job. Can’t you smell it?” she said, sniffed the air, and then looked back at me.

“And, don’t think you’re gonna change the subject that easily.”

“What subject?”

She gave me her serious look.

“Are you really gonna lie about things in this Journal of yours, because then, what’s the point? I mean, why see a shrink, if you’re just going to lie to her about everything? I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that helps.”

“You and your brutal honesty crap,” I said with disgust.

“You did say that with disgust, and that’s what I mean. Getting down to the dirty stuff. The stuff you don’t want to hear or talk about, and that’s when you’ll figure it all out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, brutal honesty ain’t pretty, and all that other blah, blah, blah, bullshit. You’ve been talking to Dr. Zinger again, haven’t you? That’s all she talks about too. That and getting butt fucked everywhere I go.”

“You laugh and make jokes, but you’ll see that we’re right,” she said and sat in my lap.

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Are you going to be honest with her... about everything?”

“About Scratches? Oh yeah, I definitely have to be honest about her.”

“Scratches definitely, but no, I mean about the talking cat. AmyStrange, right? Are you gonna tell her about that?”

“I guess I have to,” I said and started fiddling with one of the settings. “I think in Amy’s case, Cat should definitely be capitalized.”

“I agree,” Beth said and smiled.

“If she’s real.”

“I’m not even sure myself. Except for the selfie, the ten-thousand dollars, and the fact that I’ve actually seen her talk, I’ve got nothing. All I can say is we’ll definitely know for sure Friday.”

“I can’t wait. This is gonna be one freaky Halloween,” she said and started scrolling to the top of the page.

“Why does the date stamp say October 15th? That was two weeks ago. Why don’t you just start today? Oh Christ! That’s when you tried to save those...”

“Beth, Beth, Beth!” I literally screamed. “Don’t give it away! Please!”

“Ok, ok, ok!” she literally screamed back at me.

“Don’t go all crazy on me, buddy. Save that shit for your shrink,” she said a little quieter.

She pulled out her gun, and it looks like she’s checking to see if it’s loaded, but I’m not really sure. I’m not a big fan, but she definitely is. She carries that thing everywhere, even to bed.

“She can cure you, but I’m the only one who gets to shoot you. That’s my job, and you know what my motto is, right?” she asked, ignoring my comment and aimed at the ceiling.

“BANG!” she yelled.

“Shoot first, ask questions later? Make the first shot count? What?”

“Nope. Kill-shot, well, your second one is half right,” she said, and then put her gun back.

“In your case, though, I’ll probably just shoot you in the leg.”

“How comforting.”

“I’m just bustin’ your bucket of beans, boyfriend,” she said and kissed me.

“And, if you can get that brutal honesty jazz right, I might not have to shoot you at all. Now come on, get those lies down, and then get your ass downstairs, before Darryl throws your stuff out.”

“Throws my stuff out? What do you mean?”

“I think he’s gettin’ just a teensy-weensy bit impatient,” she answered.

“He said that if you’re not down by, like now, then your share’s going out to the barn.”

“Really, and you waited ten-minutes to tell me this, instead of right off the bat?”

She walked over to the window and opened the curtain.

“Nope, I don’t see him yet, but don’t worry. I think I can get you another thirty minutes, maybe.”

“Isn’t he just pretending to be a butler?” I asked. “I don’t remember ever seeing a butler do that.”

“Seriously, how many butlers do you know, and the ones on TV don’t count?”

“Well, in that case, none really.”

“See, so for all you know. This might be a common practice in the butlering world, and besides, if you really think about it. Wouldn’t it piss you off, if after spending all day cooking this fantabulous meal, someone waited until it got cold before eating it? Wouldn’t that just piss you off? Come on, be honest.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Beth said.

“Now, shouldn’t you be putting this into some kind of context, like how I’m winning debate after debate and shooting your arguments down like wet cardboard boxes? You know, true stuff like that.”

“Was I sleeping during all of that, because I don’t remember any of it, but you’d better go eat, and please get me those extra thirty. That should give me enough time to dictate a really quick bio, and also what happened on the 15th.”

“Ok then, I’ll leave you to your lies, and see what I can do about Darryl, but you’d better hurry,” she said, gave me another kiss, and then was gone.

Crap and all that fucking bullshit. Brutal honesty can’t be that fucking hard, but damn it. I know Beth wouldn’t shoot me. She’s super safety conscious about all her guns, but sometimes I still wondered, just a little bit.

Let’s see, I think she has five, six...

“Seven. I’ve also got an assault rifle in the attic,” Beth said from the stairs.

“Shut up and get me those thirty minutes.”

“Roger that, Mister Prickly Puss.”

Prickly Puss? Where the hell does she get this shit?

Ok, seven guns, and she also makes her own ammunition. She’s also the fastest draw and best shot, that I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

Ok, enough about her, for now.

Brutal honesty sucks, Doc, and I remember telling you that, but you didn’t care.

“It’s easier than getting fucked up the ass,” you said, “and besides, it’s the key to a butt-fuck-free life.”

“Why am I always getting butt fucked here?”

“No, this is where the butt fuck stops, and brutal honesty is the key. Just keep doing it until some of that ugly shit starts coming out, and that’s when you’ll know you’re in the right neighborhood.

“I won’t kid you, Crim. Getting rid of the butt fuckers won’t be easy or painless either.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“Sometimes, you’re gonna have to dig deep, but even still, getting into that really ugly neighborhood is only half the battle.

“The real battle’s gonna be when you have to admit the truth, and that’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ll ever do, but it’s also the one thing that’ll cure you. I guarantee it.”

“You already know the answer, don’t you? Why don’t you just cut the bullshit and give it to me?”

“Believe me. I’d love to give it to you straight,” you said, “but you won’t believe me, until you figure it out for yourself anyway. All I can do is help guide you there.”

“Not even a clue, huh?”

“Nope,” you said and got up, “Now, get the hell out of here, before I start charging you even more money.

“And don’t forget that Journal,” you added and then closed the door on me.

I thought that’d be easy, especially since you didn’t care what I wrote.

“Even if you just babble incoherently, I don’t care. I just want to read something you wrote,” were your exact words, but that was obviously bullshit too.

On my way home and with that in mind, I stopped and bought a big notebook and some pens. I started writing that night, and by our next session, it was almost full.

“What the fuck is this shit?” you said, after reading the first paragraph, and then tossed it back at me. “This is gibberish, masquerading as... Shit, Crim, did you just open a dictionary and randomly write words down?”

I reread it, and damn, you were right. I always thought my writing was ok, but this was crap, and double damn, that really was hard to admit, Doc.

“I think you need to take some writing classes,” you said, “and while you’re at it, you might as well take some on computers and psychology.”

“Do I also have to take a butt-fucking course?”

“No... just take calculus. That’ll be enough.”

Ha, ha, I made that last part up, Doc, but taking classes did sound like a good idea, except there was no way I was doing calculus. Sorry, Doc.

The psychology classes were interesting, though, and I ended up taking more than just a couple of those. They helped explain a lot of things about the subconscious and how genetics played a sneaky part in all of it.

One of my teachers even mentioned you a couple times, like you guys were talking about me, but you wouldn’t give me any of the details.

“Not yet, anyway,” you explained. “I want to read your Journal first.”

I just hope, that when you do, I’m still your patient.

Anyway, besides Psych 101, I took a couple writing classes, a computer class, and also one on typing. They helped a lot, especially the computer one, but then, I ran across a whole different kind of a problem.

I don’t know why, but typing something down into a computer seemed so, so... permanent, like everyone would be reading and criticizing every single word I used, forever and ever.

All that just overwhelmed the fuck out of me, and I couldn’t figure out the right first word. I finally decided that, “Today, I,” was kind of ok, but then all I did after that was ramble on and on about stupid shit.

Kinda like what I’m doing right now, but after five years of looking for the perfect first paragraph, I got this dictating program, and the way this one started is better than perfect.

Beth was perfect. She loves taking the opposite side of most of my arguments, and she’s good at it too.

I’m not even gonna change the way it looks either.

Ok, enough about that.

The bottom line, the brutally honest truth, is that I’m not a good person, and you’ll understand why in a few minutes, if you get that far.

You already know most of this Beth, but Dr. Zinger doesn’t know about Scratches, and it’s about time you did.

I’m not gonna make excuses or blame this on anyone else. I did something so fucking horrible, that... shit, I wouldn’t blame you, if after reading about it, you did decide to drop me as a patient.

It changes people, and I’m worried that it’ll also change you. I’ve lost so many friends because of it...

Anyway, like I told you before, I have an eidetic memory, or as everyone else likes to call it, a photographic memory.

It’s not perfect, because I still have memory lapses, but most of the time, all I have to do is think of a date and time, and I’m reliving it like a movie.

I can also fast-forward, rewind, or freeze a frame and study it like a photograph.

It’s why I can go back to when I was six, and also two weeks ago, and dictate it like it’s happening right in front of me.

You can take what I dictate as Gospel, except maybe the context. That’s obviously my personal opinion.

Anyway, most of the time, I have control over my playback functions, but what you don’t know is why I sometimes lose that control.

Long before I met you, I decided to stop telling people about it, because I’ve been beat up, almost killed a couple times, and even Beth wanted to shoot me when she found out about it.

I guess if I fought back, I wouldn’t get beat up so much, but why? That’s exactly what I deserve, and after that first punch, all I can see is that video anyway. The pain feels good, but dying, I don’t know about that one anymore.

Back in the beginning, dying really would’ve solved everything. No more Darkness. No more video. No more guilt. No more anything, but now, it scares the fuck out of me.

I get these crazy impulses, and I just can’t stop myself.

If I’m on the top of a ten-story building, and I see someone hurting an animal across the street, I will literally walk off the side of the building to save that animal. It’s just like I’m stepping off the curb and crossing the street, except I’m ten stories up, and I don’t have a safety net, but I do have a magic rope.

If I have time to think about it, I can usually stop myself, but most of the time, I’m not even thinking about the consequences, about Beth, our babies, or nothing. I’m already falling off the side of the building, and that’s what really scares the fuck out of me, Doc.

You might think I’m lyin’ about stepping off buildings, and shit like that, but wait until I tell you about what happened two weeks ago.

If you get that far, of course.

So, grab a beer, a coffee, or whatever gets you the fuck comfortable, and strap yourself in, because this is gonna be one hell of a wild fucking ride.

Screaming, of course, is always optional.

First, before I get into the really bad part, let me explain how I got my nick, the Criminal.

You already know about my fantasies, but what you don’t know is that long before I found out how bad they were, I loved them.

As a matter of fact, some of my earliest memories are of me sitting on my bed and imagining some of the weirdest shit, that even to this day, I still haven’t been able to top.

The shit I was channeling back then was way better than anything else that was going on in my life, and that included television, movies or even comic books.

They were so good, I started to feel guilty about not sharing them with anyone, so when I was six, I decided to share some with my Mom.

I even chuckled while explaining the first one.

She didn’t get excited about it, like I thought she would. Like it’d be fun to watch herself being covered in honey, tied to a tree, and then picked to pieces by thousands and thousands of fire ants.

When I got to the part where they were forcing their way down her throat, into her lungs, and then up into her brain, she had this look of fucking horror on her face, that I’ll never, ever forget.

It’s how I imagine she looked, just before she died.

After those first couple seconds, she relaxed, tousled my hair, and with a sad little smile, said, “You’re going to turn into a little criminal, aren’t you?” and for some god-awful reason, the nickname stuck.

From that day forward, that’s what everyone called me, the “Little Criminal”.

After a while, that was shortened to the “Criminal”, until now, most of my friends just call me “Crim”. Except, when they’re royally pissed off at me, and then I’m the Criminal again.

Nowadays, Beth’s the only one that can get away with calling me her Little Criminal, and that brings us back to the story about my Mom.

Last we left her, I was getting ready to tell her the rest of it, but she stopped me.

“Let’s wait until your father gets home first, ok?”

I told her ok, because really, what else was I gonna say? I was only six-years-old, and besides, the way she said it didn’t sound good at all. She never called Daddy that. I wasn’t in any hurry to tell anyone about nothing, and I still haven’t. That is, until I met Beth, and now you, Doc.

Like I explained earlier, back then, I liked my fantasies, and that’s the real reason I didn’t say anything when my Dad got home, or afterwards.

At that age, I figured I could pretend I wasn’t having them, and in that way, I could still have them.

What no one knew, couldn’t hurt them, or me. It just never occurred to me how much of a lie that was gonna turn into, and the slippery slope I was headed down because of it.

I was waiting nervously in the living room, watching TV, when Daddy came home and gave me a thumbs-up. He put his coat away and went to go see Mommy in the kitchen.

A minute later, they went into the library and closed the door. A little after that, he screamed, “What?!” and that’s when my fantasy world went crazy, and I started looking for a place to hide.

Before I could do that, he opened the door and smiled, “Come here, buddy. We want to talk to you.”

I think he saw the worried look on my face, and that’s why he added, “Don’t worry. You’re not in any trouble. We just want to talk to you about what you said to your Mother.”

Except for Santa and a whole slew of other fake characters like the Easter Bunny, and oh yeah, where Memere and Pepere went when they died, my parents always talked things over with me like an adult, and not like a kid.

I got to ask questions, say things in my defense, and sometimes, I’d even be able to change their minds about something.

This time, I just listened and didn’t get to say a thing, not that I really wanted to.

First, they sat me down and tried to explain, in detail, why what I said was a bad thing. A very, very bad thing. Ending with Daddy telling me, “It’s like you wished Mommy would leave us, or even worse, that she’d die.”

I remember my reaction to that as clear as a ringing bell, because that’s not what I wanted at all. Shit like that was going through my head all the time. It was like a TV set was always on up there, playing some of the best and worst horror movies of all time, but that didn’t mean I wanted my Mommy to leave or die.

I started crying, and she came over to give me a hug.

“I’m sorry Mommy,” I blubbered and tried to hold her tight. “Please, don’t ever leave me Mommy, never, ever, forever.”

She hugged me tighter, and then wiped my tears away.

“How could I ever leave my Little Criminal? I love you more than I do Daddy, but don’t tell him that, ok?” she said, and then held her pinkie out.

As I wrapped my pinkie around hers, I had to laugh, because Daddy was standing right there laughing right along with us.

We shook pinkies and said together, “Never, ever, forever, I promise.”

Then, thirteen years later, forever came.

It all started while I was at home, having another of my awesome fantasy festivals. After our talk, I stopped fantasizing about my parents, but not about anything else. It was just way too much fun.

I’d be watching TV, reading a book, driving by a billboard, or anything really, and something would set me off. Sometimes it’d be just a name, description, or a single word, and before I knew it, I’d be charbroiling people in my head.

Not to eat, but just to watch cook, really long and slow, and always with a twist. Instead of from the outside, I’d charbroil them from the inside, while opera blared loud enough to make their ears bleed, and then pop.

Sometimes, they’d just kick start themselves up, and I almost always went along for the ride.

That day, I was in the middle of charbroiling people, when my Mom and Dad stopped by to see if I wanted some chicken, and no, this isn’t gonna turn into a story about me cooking my parents.

This is about the day my parents died, but not that way.

Anyway, they actually dropped by like that a lot. Not to see if I wanted chicken, or to check up on me, but mostly because they just wanted my opinion on some kind of debate they were having.

It’s what they did instead of scream and holler, or worse, hit each other.

When they disagreed about something, they’d debate the pros and cons of whatever that something was, and most of the time, it involved some kind of off the wall comment my Dad was good at making.

They told me the rules, and how it took more than a year, before they could even agree on those. Rules like how long each could speak, acceptable sources, and a lot of crap like that.

Some of them were just silly, like the official name for a bathroom break was lunchtime. Why was that even a rule and why lunchtime? I never got a real answer to any of those questions.

More times than not, I’d decide my Mom was right, but sometimes I’d let my Dad win.

When that happened, he’d dance around, like he was some kind of King Shit of the world.

Even so, we had to laugh, because the way he danced was funny. He didn’t really dance, but instead flopped around on his knees, while doing a combination twist, crab walk and hallelujah cheer that always left us laughing hysterically on the floor.

The next time my Mom won, she tried to copy him, but failed miserably. She couldn’t stop laughing, and we all ended up on the floor again.

After that, she’d just give him a kiss and tell him not to worry.

“You’ll win the next one,” she’d say, and then wink at me, adding, “and then you’ll be able to dance on the floor like a fish, all you want.”

I know it’s not true, and that my parents really loved me, but sometimes, I kind of felt like the only reason they had me was to have someone to referee their debates.

I didn’t mind at all, because most of them were pretty interesting. I actually had fun listening to them, and sometimes, I’d even get sucked into one.

Beth and I do the same thing now.

When I first explained the concept to her, she was skeptical. After a couple debates, about the debating rules no less, she began to like it. I even tried to do my Dad’s dance, but failed miserably, because once again, we both ended up on the floor laughing hysterically.

My Mom and Dad would’ve loved Beth, especially my Mom.

Anyway, if they jogged, they could be here in five minutes. Most of the time, that’s exactly what they did, but not that day.

That day, they took the car.

Now I wish they hadn’t, but they were on their way into town, and they only stopped by to see if I wanted to come over later, have some chicken, and watch a movie with them.

“We’ll be right back,” was the last thing my Mom said before they left.

Four hours later, they still hadn’t come back.

The rest of that night, after they left, is a blur to me, and also the rest of the month. I remember answering the door, a lot of people staying with me, then going to a funeral, and I also remember crying more than I’ve ever cried in my life, but that’s it.

The rest is just a fucking blur.

I still don’t even know how they died, except that it was a car crash, and to be honest, I really don’t want to know. Maybe someday, but not today.

I do know one thing for sure. If they hadn’t stopped by to see me, they’d still be alive. It was all my fault. I killed them.

And as if that ain’t enough, I’ve also wondered about what happened during all that time my memory was gone. What if somehow, I stole a car, followed them and really did kill them?

I can’t even laugh at that one.

Someone even told me later, that while they were shoveling dirt on top, I jumped into my Mom’s grave and tried to open the lid. When I couldn’t do that, I started pounding on it, and screaming that it was all my fault. I should be dead, not her.

By the time they dragged me out, I was crying and pleading with her, “Please Mommy, please, you promised.” I screamed that last part so loud, that it startled the guys who were trying to pull me out, and they almost dropped me back in.

I don’t remember any of that.

It took me two years before I was even able to smile again, and that’s only because of something that I remembered my Mom telling me.

“Honesty is worth more than all the money in the world,” she said and laughed, “Of course, too much honesty, can get you into trouble too.”

That one’s for you Doc, and you too Beth.

Anyway, during most of those two years, I just went through the motions.

I still worked at the same restaurant downtown, and still lived a couple miles outside the city, in that same trailer that I was living in when my parents died.

I’d go to work, and then go home. I’d eat and watch TV until I fell asleep. That was pretty much my life.

At work, I didn’t really like to talk to anyone, so never made any friends there, and no one ever came over to see me. I was glad about that, because all I did was say inappropriate things at inappropriate times, and that would always get me into arguments or fights.

Hopefully, this part doesn’t get the Darkness going again, because this is where it really gets bad.

One night, while fixing dinner, I heard something scratching at the door. I opened it, and there was a little kitten still scratching at the screen. That’s why I called her Scratches.

I put up posters everywhere, but never found out where she came from, or who her original owner was.

So, Scratches moved in, and I was glad she did.

I loved how, as soon as I got home from work, and as soon as I sat down, she’d jump into my lap. I’d then give her the scratching of her life. Sometimes she’d purr so loud, I almost couldn’t hear what they were saying on the TV.

The rest of the night, we’d play a game of hide and seek, that she’d always win. After that, she’d fall asleep on the couch and wait for me to go to bed. When I did, she’d climb in and sleep with me. That was nice.

As she grew into a mischievous and very beautiful adult cat, I took pictures and showed them to everyone at work.

I was so proud of her.

That surprised everyone there.

Philippe, the other dishwasher, thought I was just some zombie guy who decided to show up one day and start cleaning dishes.

“I didn’t even know you had a life,” he told me, after I showed him pictures of Scratches.

I even stopped fantasizing as much as I used to, because Scratches was always making me laugh, and that helped take my mind off it for longer periods.

I guess that part of my mind, where my fantasies were coming from, didn’t like to be neglected like that, because six months later, while watching a TV show, I saw a car crash and snapped.

I went into a rage so evil and so dark, that when I saw Scratches sleeping on the couch, waiting for me to go to bed, my fantasies took over.

She suffered for over an hour, before finally dying, and as soon as she did, a rush hit me that was so intense, it literally dropped me to my knees, and I’m not fucking lying either.

A second later, I started to laugh, but a bomb went off in my head instead, and I realized, WHAT THE FUCK! I’D JUST FUCKING DONE!!

My mind suddenly went numb with the shock, as the guilt, like a cold, dark acid, began eating away at everything except that evil fucking thing that could never be fixed or undone.

You have no idea what real guilt is like until you’ve deliberately killed an animal and have to live with that last look, and that last question, forever.

A loving, trusting and defenseless pet, my pet, Scratches, pleading with me until the very end, and then just finally giving up, but still wanting to know why.

Why are you doing this to me?

OH, MY FUCKING GOD! WHAT KIND OF EVIL FUCKING MONSTER HAVE I BECOME?!!

Three days later, I’d lost my job by then, and I didn’t care, because after the Darkness, a video started up in my head that wouldn’t stop playing.

Over and over again, I’d watch myself kill Scratches, and then I’d see that last look again, and again, and again; until finally, after three days, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“What the fuck is wrong with me!” I screamed and started hitting myself, and it felt so fucking good.

After the blood started to flow, I stopped and remembered that solid wood beam in the middle of my bedroom.

Oh yeah, I thought, as I got a good running start and really put my head into it, and oh fucking yeah, that felt a whole lot better than my fist.

The next one knocked me out.

When I woke up, there was blood everywhere, but I didn’t care, because that video had stopped. I was so happy, I almost screamed, but then it started up again, and I just didn’t know what else to do. I fell to the floor, and just started crying.

It’s not that I didn’t deserve it. Fuck, I deserved way worse than this, like having every last fucking one of my fantasies done to me, instead of others.

That was beginning to sound better and better, as every time that video started up, it also got a little darker and a little harder to make sense of what was going on. I even began to wonder where the hell I was.

As the day turned into night, that video started up one more time, and I could feel myself wanting to laugh.

That scared the holy, fucking, living shit out of me, because even through all that foggy Darkness, I could tell my mind was getting ready to shift.

I was beginning to like it.

I had to stop this now, before I lost control again, but how? I tried to think, but the only thing I could remember was hitting myself. I knew that wasn’t gonna do it, because I’d probably just end up killing myself, and that’s when the answer hit me.

At that point, I could understand why someone would want to kill themselves. It’s the only way to get that shit out of your head.

Some people, that I’ve talked to about all this, have told me outright, that’s what I should’ve done. Good riddance to bad trash, they told me. The world would be a way better place with one less piece of shit, like me, around.

One of them even tried to help me along by dropping a fifty-pound rock on my head.

Maybe they’re right, but at the time, when I thought suicide was the only solution, that’s when the Darkness lightened up a little. It wasn’t a lot, and lasted for only a few seconds, but it was enough.

It felt like I was coming out of a dark, underwater cave, and that’s when an even better solution came to me, and the Darkness lightened up even more.

I never felt so much relief in all my life, and that’s when I did scream. I was so happy, because that video had also stopped playing, but I couldn’t forget Scratches. This was something I had to do for her. Not for me, but for her. It was the better solution.

To hell with the people who thought I should’ve killed myself, committed suicide, ended it, and maybe death is just a reset button. Who knows for sure except dead people, and sure my death might’ve made the world a little better place. I’ll give ‘em that, but that’s all I’ll give ‘em.

What if instead of killing myself, I got killed trying to stop those who couldn’t stop themselves from doing what I did?

What if I did that instead?

Wouldn’t that make the world a whole lot better place, a whole lot better than just killing myself would?

Of course, saving animals was the most logical place to start. I’d rather die for that instead and almost have, many, many times. Sometimes by my own impulsive actions, like running across the highway to save a bird, and almost getting run over by a big ole semi.

My survival instinct is unbelievable, but none of it will ever, ever, make up for what I did. None of it.

Not even what I did today, but back then, I thought that maybe someday, I’ll be able to live with who and what I was and not feel like suicide was always my first best option.

It wasn’t something that I really deserved, but the animals sure in hell did. My life for theirs seemed like the perfect swap.

What was maddening was that while I was trying to figure out how to save animals, my first obsession was still working overtime trying to get me to do another one.

It was like being in a fucking tug of war with myself.

The Darkness waited patiently on one side, while my fantasies pushed me from the other. It knew that someday, I’d cross it, and then it’d be time to fuck with the Criminal again.

Then, I had a brilliant idea.

What if I was to draw, or at least pretend to draw, a comic book about an evil-doer just like me? And naturally, in order to do a good job, I’d have to think like I was already thinking and use my fantasies as plots, while also figuring out ways for the hero to save the day.

That put a whole new spin on everything, just enough so I could do both, fantasize about hurting animals, while also saving them.

I know that sounds like all kinds of fucked up, but it worked.

Unfortunately, pretending to do something like that didn’t work with the Darkness. I had to actually work at keeping it away, and the only thing that really worked was to help animals to be happy. My happiness came from them.

That is until I met Beth.

I’ll never forget Scratches, or my pets, or love them any less, but now, I think more about her than anything else, even my fantasies.

She knows all about what I did, what I’m fighting, and my biggest fear, that someday I’ll snap again and kill her too.

It’s why this Journal is so fucking necessary, and something I should’ve started a long time ago, but now the time for procrastination is over. It’s time for action.

Anyway, even with all that crap hanging over my head, she still loves me, and even goes with me, when I go out to find animals to help.

I love you more than you’ll ever know Beth, but I really don’t deserve you. I really don’t, and that’s the brutally honest truth too.

She’s why I can dredge up these awful memories for you, Doc. We’ve got to figure out what’s wrong with me, before history repeats itself.

I know it’s been fifteen years, but remember, I was twenty-one when that one happened, and that either means I’m long overdue, or it’s just down the road a piece.

Even if I wanted to forget, the Darkness is always there to remind me anyway, but at least now, it’s not as bad.

I still get fits of depression, but before I met Beth, if I tried to save an animal, and they died, or even if I didn’t try at all, the Darkness would fall on me like a ton of fucking bricks, and that video would start playing again.

I knew that, eventually, the hitting would start. At least now, I know that once I knocked myself out, the video would stop, but I didn’t know that in the beginning.

It seems like a really crazy, off-the-wall, thing to know about myself. In order to get my brain working again, I had to do a hard reboot by knocking myself out.

I’ve already done it more than a couple dozen times, 102 to be exact, and the next one could be the one that turns my brain to mush.

Sadly, that wasn’t even the problem, because once the Darkness started, I knew I had to get away from people, and as fast as I could. Not because I was afraid to hurt them, but because I was afraid they’d try and stop me from hurting myself.

Maybe from hurting them too, but I’m not really sure, because as much as I hated myself afterwards, it really did feel fucking good while I was doing it. It was like a drug that almost made the Darkness bearable. At least, until I was able to knock myself out anyway.

That was the real problem, because while I was doing that, I wasn’t saving animals, and since I deserved it, how was I supposed to even begin arguing with myself about it?

After a couple years of dealing with that by myself, I decided to start seeing a therapist, and then some psychiatrist, but they were all nuts too and thought my problem was that I wanted to fuck my Mother.

After a few more years, I could tell when that was coming. Their focus and questions were a huge tip off. After that, as soon as they started going there seriously, I just walked out the door.

Until I met you, Dr. Zinger.

As least with you, instead of fucking my mother, I’m the one getting butt-fucked.

That might not seem like much of an improvement, but to me, it was like night and day.

Up to this point, all we’ve done is talk once a month, and it has helped, but Beth has the inside track on the Darkness.

I have to agree that I’m the one causing it, but I just don’t know where the controls are.

She’s the only one that’s ever been able to find them.

Other people have tried, including you, but no one’s ever come close, except her.

I think, and I’m sure that you’ll probably agree, that love has something to do with it, if not almost everything to do with it.

Love’s a pretty powerful thing, especially when it’s true.

The first time she saw me going through it, and the hitting started, she wrapped her arms around my neck and begged me to stop, and I couldn’t hit her. I just couldn’t.

I gave you a good wallop that first time, remember?

Anyway, she started crying, and then I started crying. Probably not for the same reason, because some how she’d found where the stop button was and stopped that fucking video.

After she did that, I told her everything, except about my secret friends.

More on Beth, and my secret friends, later.

I’ve got a whole bunch of other stuff to talk about first, before I can even get to what happened on the 15th.

I know this is gonna sound really weird and make no sense what so ever, but it did make some sense back then. I just can’t remember why exactly.

Sometimes I think, it can be a pain in the ass having a perfect memory, because it’s so much more frustrating when it doesn’t work right.

I also think that sometimes, not having one would be a good thing. Not being able to remember horrible things would be at the top of that list, but I also have to believe that even with a bad memory, I’d still remember Scratches and also be saving animals.

Anyway, using some kind of weird-ass logic, that I still don’t fully understand, I figured that I had to go turn myself in and take responsibility for what I’d done.

I had to pay the price and go to jail. Maybe, do a couple years, or maybe even more. I didn’t have any idea, and I didn’t really care anyway, because at the time, it was something I had to do, before I started doing anything else.

I found the only photo I had of my Mom and Dad, and one of Scratches, to always remind me, grabbed a toothbrush, and put them in my backpack.

I took a quick look around my trailer of death, not expecting to ever see it again. There was nothing there I really wanted to keep or save or see again, except bad memories.

I just walked out and didn’t even bother to lock the door behind me.

On my way to the police station, I wondered if the Darkness would take a break while I did this, and all I could do was hope. I didn’t really relish the idea of knocking myself out inside a cell built with cement blocks.

Although, if I started doing that, they’d probably just put me in a rubber room wrapped in one of those crazy jackets, and I’d be forced to watch that video forever.

Long story short, none of that happened, because when I got there, all they gave me was a ticket. They didn’t even want to do that, until I showed them the evidence, in the burlap sack that I’d brought with me.

The end result was no jail time, nothing, just a thousand-dollar fine.

I can’t even begin to explain how much this pissed me off. I was ready to do two or more years, but an animal’s life was only worth a thousand dollars, and then I was free to go.

That was fucking disgusting! It still is.

The Desk Sergeant agreed with me and was disgusted also, especially with me.

“Personally, I also think you should spend some serious time in jail. A couple years at least, but that’s not the law. We have to follow the law too, unfortunately.”

He then told me about this Initiative group that was trying to change that, and said, as he gave me a card with their name and address on it, “If you’re really serious about making amends, check these guys out.”

I figured that was as good a place to start as any, so after leaving the station, I went there and got hired on the spot.

I didn’t even know you could get paid for doing that. I was glad, because even though this was something I had to do, I still had to live, had to eat and sleep, and that reminded me.

There was no way in hell I was going back to that trailer. Maybe I should burn it down? Maybe wait until someone else moved in, I fantasized, but snapped myself out of it, reluctantly.

The girl who hired me was in the middle of telling me, I had to take a couple classes first.

“We want to make sure you know what you’re getting people to sign. You know, in case they have questions, and also about the Initiative Process itself.

“Also, how you’ll get paid, and all that other administrative stuff. Unfortunately, it’s required, before we’ll pay you for signatures, but we do pay you to take the classes,” she said, and then smiled sweetly, adding, “That’s something anyway.”

Four hours later, I was out on the street getting signatures. The first guy I talked to, after listening to my whole spiel, squinted his eyes and said, “What?”

I explained it to him again.

“Oh, you mean farm animals? You’re trying to save the farm animals? Save them from what exactly?”

Farm animals, I thought, and almost said something inappropriate like, “You’re an idiot,” but instead decided to go for something off the left field wall.

Twisting my fantasies around, and making them funny, sometimes got people laughing and listening to me before, so why not now?

“It’s the cows, man.”

“The cows?”

“Yup,” I kept my face as straight as I could. “Did you know that they’re paying me a dollar a signature to get this thing on the ballot and up for a vote in November.”

“Cows?”

“Yup. They deserve a little payback, don’t you think? Cows aren’t just for the griddle anymore. They’re fightin’ mad, and they’re fightin’ back. There just ain’t too many things that are scarier than a mad cow, don’t you think?”

He nodded his head, and his eyes had a kind of glazed look to them. I lowered my voice, almost to a whisper, and he leaned in closer.

“And if that’s not enough to blow your mind, how about this? The cows, that I’m trying to save from the slaughterhouse, are also paying me with dead cows from that same slaughterhouse. They call it a bonus, but I’ve got so much steak, I don’t even know where to put it anymore. Now, how sick is that? I can’t even begin to fathom the sickness of that,” I said, although I could, a little, but I didn’t say that last part out loud.

“Now, I know you’re joking.”

“Of course, I’m joking. I’ve got more than enough room for more steak,” I said, as I straightened up and started talking in a normal voice again, “but seriously, did you know, that if someone is cruel to animals and even goes so far as to kill one, all the law allows, as punishment, is a thousand-dollar fine and no jail time whatsoever?!”

“What?! No, I didn’t know that.”

“That’s the kind of thing this Initiative is trying to stop. Here, you can read all about it in this brochure.”

“Of course, I’ll sign,” he said after taking one and reading a little.

“Thank you,” I said, and then watched as he disappeared around the corner. Probably to find the nearest steak house to get one for himself.

After that, it was easy, and it’s also when I met Pee Wee. He’s probably one of my best friends now, and also one of my secret friends.

Things weren’t always peachy keen with us, especially after he found out what I’d done.

That first day, though, we were both working the same corner, and on one of our breaks, got to talking.

He liked my tag-line about the cows, and even let me stay at his place, but don’t let the name fool you. He looked like he was at least seven feet tall. Six and a half, he once told me, and as big as a bull, if a bull could stand up and walk around.

In short, he’s huge, but his manner’s as gentle as a kitten’s, unless you pissed him off.

Since we usually worked the same corner, we’d try and see who could come up with the most outrageous tag-line. The one that would bring the most people in and listen to the rest of our spiel.

Of course, I almost always won, but unarguably, Pee Wee came up with the best one of all time.

“If cows could play football, who’d win, the Dallas Cowboys, or the cows?” he asked as people passed by.

Good, right? Most people thought the Cowboys would win, but I thought, come on, none of those Cowboys weighed anywhere near what cows weighed. All they had to do was figure out a way to carry the ball, and nothing could stop them.

My logic was lost on the Cowboy crowd, but we did get lots of signatures that day, a record for both of us actually.

More on Pee Wee in a little bit.

Even though I was making good money doing this, I still had two problems with the job. Neither of them had anything to do with the job itself, or my co-workers.

The zeal in which we all attacked the Initiative Process was amazing. I liked that part a lot. The group did its job well, and we got it done and on the ballot for that November.

My problem wasn’t with the group, but the Initiative itself. It really didn’t do much to punish or stop animal cruelty.

Except, that it at least added some serious jail time, but only after you’d been caught doing it more than a couple times. The thousand-dollar fine remained the same.

Even before the Initiative went up for a vote, I knew this wasn’t gonna be enough, and that was my second problem with the job.

Getting signatures was too damn easy. Getting my hands dirty shouldn’t have been that easy, especially for what I’d done. I remember wanting to die saving animals, but all I was doing was pushing paper around.

How the fuck am I putting my life on the line doing this?

If it’d been that damn easy, the Darkness would’ve been gone a long time ago, but it wasn’t. I could always feel it back there, waiting to pounce.

Election Day, I was still working with the Initiative group, making last minute cold calls, and they even asked me to help them with another Initiative. At least, I wouldn’t be out of work yet.

On my way home, I stopped at a downtown bar, to catch the early results.

As the numbers came in, it seemed like the voters were believing the campaign that was waged against it. At the time, I thought, who were these people behind this shit?

It turned out to be some association of cattle farmers. Their theory was that this law would be the beginning of the end for all meat eaters.

It looked like the voters had fallen for it, but I didn’t care about any of that anymore, because as the numbers against it were turning into a landslide, I could feel the Darkness shifting and getting ready to pounce.

I could tell this wasn’t gonna be a small-time pounce either.

Small time was bad enough. The guilt would sometimes get so overwhelming, that I’d have to take a day off from work. I’d spend the rest of that day back in that trailer trying to figure out what went wrong.

Thankfully, the video never played during those times, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it hit me again, and this was gonna be it.

As soon as I knew we were going to lose, the Darkness kicked in and started dripping that dark acid, and I only had a few minutes before that video would start-up again.

To make matters even worse, I was getting way drunk and talking to the guy next to me.

When I get drunk, my memory isn’t as good as it usually is, but I do remember something about comparing the election results to killing a cat.

I also remember the very last thing I said, “Even this is hilarious.”

“What’s so fucking funny about killing a cat? Huh? Cat killer?!” the guy yelled and dragged me out the back door into an alley, followed by five of his buddies.

“What the fuck’s so funny about that?!!”

By then, it wouldn’t be a question anymore, but a reason for six guys to beat me half to death. After that first punch, the video started up, and that’s all I remember.

After knocking me unconscious, one of them decided to drop a fifty-pound rock on my head, and that’ll be the end of your freakin’ ass.

That’s exactly what he said, just as Pee Wee showed up.

He used a bat to knock four of them off their feet with two swings, dropped the bat, and then pulled a couple automatics on the last two.

He smiled and said, “Party’s over assholes. Leave! NOW!!”

They had to help one of them walk, but eventually, they all left.

It was like a scene from a movie, but unfortunately, I didn’t get to see any of it, because I was still out like a light.

After I woke up and told him what happened, he almost killed me himself.

He raised the bat and swung it over my head, and then let it fly. He then bent over for a couple seconds, before grabbing and slamming me against the wall.

“You’re lucky I love you like a brother, man, because otherwise you’d be dead right now.”

I don’t blame him, or any of them, for any of that.

Killing a cat is not funny.

I was still living with Pee Wee at the time, and he drove us home.

After Pee Wee told me what happened while I was out, he didn’t say anything else, and I figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to maybe set him off again, so I kept quiet.

By the time we got there, I’d sobered up enough to check and see that I still had all my parts. Luckily, nothing was broken either, so all I had to do was clean up a few cuts and bruises.

While we were silently sitting on the couch watching the numbers get worse, I was furiously trying to think of a way to stop the depression from dragging me down, down, down, and back to that video again, but that’s when it hit me.

The only option I had left, and that was to go freelance.

I’ve been resisting it since that day, and that’s mostly because I still had to pay my share of the rent, and freelance work didn’t pay shit. At least, not the kind I wanted to do.

Surprisingly enough, just thinking about it actually helped. The Darkness not only lightened up, but also took a step back, like I was finally getting on the right track.

I almost started laughing but figured that wouldn’t be a good idea right now.

I did begin wondering just what going freelance meant? Did I get to wear a mask, cape, and drive around in a cool car? Or, is this something I should keep secret and not be flashy about?

I decided to keep it secret, because being flashy sounded too much like bragging, and also because there were a lot of sick people out there, just like me, and I didn’t want to become one of their victims.

It would be ironic for sure, but definitely not part of the plan, but what was the plan exactly?

Saving animals was easy to say, but how exactly was I going to find these abused animals, and how was I going to save or help them once I did?

Getting a car was a good start, and also a better job. This Initiative thing was ok, but that was always going to be short term.

I needed something more permanent with benefits. Something that also gave me the time to do all this secret save the animals stuff and not always be looking for my next job.

I didn’t laugh, but I did jump up off the couch.

“I gotta go,” I said, and put on my coat.

“Maybe, that’s for the best,” was all Pee Wee said.

He misunderstood, but I didn’t argue. I opened the door, and said, “Maybe, you’re right,” and then left.

I’ve lost many other friends since then for the same reason, but that was the worst.

As I walked down the street, I remembered all those times we tried to outdo each other, and laughing about it afterwards, and I couldn’t stop myself.

I was crying and couldn’t stop. This was in so many ways worse than what the Darkness did, but I still deserved it. Scratches was dead, and she could never feel anything ever again. Why should I ever be able to feel good again?

It was raining, and that just seemed perfect.

A car drove by and drenched me head to foot, and that made it even more perfect.

A strong wind picked up, and that actually woke me from my drowning dream of self-pity.

What the hell was I going to do?

I actually left to go buy a car, but like an idiot, didn’t realize it was past nine. How was I gonna buy a car at this time of night?

As the wind got stronger, I bundled up tight and wanted to go back, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t face Pee Wee again.

I’d see Pee Wee now and again, because he still worked at the Initiative group, but we really never connected again, until one fateful day in the library, almost six years later.

More on that later.

Anyway, I was headed towards the nearest motel, and it was still raining, and I kept walking. I was about a mile away, when I saw a coffee shop, and once I got inside, I didn’t feel so down in the dumps anymore.

I bought a coffee, newspaper and started my search.

First a car, then somewhere to live, a good job, and then a good night’s sleep.

I found a car fast. It was an old 1969 Nova going for two grand. I almost had that much in savings, and that reminded me about my trust fund.

My parents set it up so that on my twenty-fifth birthday, I’d be able to do whatever I wanted with it, but until then, I could only watch it grow.

I couldn’t take the money out, but I could use it as collateral to buy a house or go to college.

I could even use it to get this Nova and use my savings for something else, like that motel room.

I tore that part of the newspaper out and put it in my wallet.

I found the real estate section. Houses for sale covered almost all of it. Rentals were towards the end, and as I began to turn the pages, another brilliant idea came to me.

Why rent, when I could use my trust fund to buy a house? I didn’t have to be at work until ten tomorrow, and I could certainly get things started at the bank.

I looked closer at the page I was on, and the first listing I started to read was a small fixer-upper. It was a two-story ranch on five acres, but what caught my attention was the barn.

Barn, I thought, and remembered what Barry told me.

Barry was one of the veterinarians that I’d met through the Initiative group, and really the only one that ever talked to me.

He was always telling me about running out of room for all the abused and homeless animals he was running across. He had less than a handful of names, that he could contact when he didn’t have the room to keep them.

Unfortunately, most of them were stretched to the limit, and the last thing he wanted to do was to start sending them to a shelter, but, “Things don’t look too good,” he told me just a couple days before the election.

“Everyone’s out of room, and I’m almost out of space myself.”

After using my trust fund to put a down payment on that five-acre ranch, I gave him my name and phone number.

He was so grateful, that he gave me both his work and home numbers, and promised to come running, any time of the day or night and free of charge, if I ever needed help with a hurt animal.

Until I could find a good permanent job, I floated around doing any odd job that I could, long-term, temporary, or not.

Most of the time, I worked sixty or more hours a week, while also doing the Initiative thing whenever that came up. I didn’t care, as long as it gave me at least the weekends free to look for and save abused animals.

After leaving that coffee shop with a plan in mind, I didn’t care about the rain anymore.

The next morning, I went to the bank, talked to the person in charge of trust, and showed her the newspaper ad.

She promised to get things started immediately.

While the farm would take a few days, she gave me the necessary paperwork to use as collateral for the Nova, and I immediately went to get it.

It was old enough and grey enough to be non-descript. It also had a couple small dents, just like almost everyone else’s car.

I didn’t even wait. I went out on the firing line that night and tried to find animals to help.

Nothing happened for a couple days, but that first time... I think I’m gonna skip this one Doc. Let’s just say, he was already dead, but the Darkness didn’t care.

I didn’t show up for work until three days later, sleeping next to him the whole time. I couldn’t drive anywhere, or even get in the car, because as soon as the Darkness started to hit, I threw my keys into the woods.

When I finally was able to get moving again, my house came through. Moving all operations there, gave me something to think about, but I still couldn’t forget him.

After that, it almost became an obsession, and some nights, I didn’t get a minute of sleep before I had to start whatever job I was working that day.

I’d drive around for hours looking for strays, or any animal that was hurt, or being hurt, run over, or thrown to the side of the road like garbage. Left to die all alone, with no one to even try and help them at all.

How mean and dark inside do you have to be to do something like that, and that always started me thinking about my own sins.

I tried to block that out by doing my best to not only get them help, but also stay with them until that help arrived.

If I couldn’t get the poor animal to him, Barry would always come running and see what he could do, just like he promised.

Most times, after checking them out, we’d move them to my house, and I’d take care of them from there.

That’s how I met Beth.

It was Halloween night. Pee Wee and I were on our second annual Halloween Patrol. Darryl had joined us by then.

More on that later.

Beth was an Assistant to Barry. When he needed an Assistant, or was busy on another emergency, he’d call her. She’d come out and do whatever she could, until he got there.

She was mostly on call and didn’t work full-time, but she knew how to give the animal a sedative, if they needed it. She also knew how to clean, bandage, and generally treat them so they’d be comfortable until Barry showed up.

Sometimes, she’d call him off, if she could handle it herself, but was also glad when he ignored her and came out anyway. She’d rather be told that she was wrong then lose one of her babies.

That night was one of those nights, and as she looked the kitten over, she was so gentle, I could tell this wasn’t just a job for her either.

I’d never seen anyone so gentle in my whole life, and I think, that’s when I fell in love with her.

The first time she looked at me with that crooked smile of hers, that clinched it.

“I think we can save this one,” is what I think she said, and something about Barry, and then added, “I’ve always wanted to see your farm,” she said, I think, and since that’s where we had to go, I became all tongue tied and klutzy.

I think she liked me too, even though I couldn’t talk worth a damn, or walk right. She stopped by a couple days later, just to say hi, and to check on the kitten we’d saved. We got to talking, and a week later she moved in.

After that, it wasn’t all about me anymore, it was about us instead.

No matter how hard we tried to find the owner, almost all the animals we saved ended up staying with us on the farm. Most of them didn’t have ID chips, tags or even collars, and that probably meant they were all alone, with no one to love or even miss them.

We both tried really hard to make up for that, and it wasn’t just kittens and puppies either.

Earlier today, or two weeks ago, while driving over a bridge, I saw the car in front of me throw a bag over the side and down to the river below.

As it flew through the air and over the side, the Darkness began to stir. It looked like it was burlap and tied shut, but that’s not what got its attention.

Just before it went over the side, I saw it squirm, like there was something alive inside.

I also felt a little excited, but there was no way, that animal was gonna die on my watch. No, fucking, way.

Like I explained, I was on a bridge, and I couldn’t just stop and turn around. Traffic was moving smoothly enough, but it’d still be a miracle if I could get my car going back the other way in time.

And, even if I were able to do that, I could still run there faster, and decided to ditch my car somehow, but how?

I could just pull over and take my chances, but that’s when I saw the two guys, in the bag-throwing car, high fiving and laughing their asses off.

Did that really happen, or was I imagining the whole thing?

I didn’t care, and it didn’t matter, because my blood started boiling, and I screamed, “YOU FUCKING, MURDERING ASSHOLES!!” and floored it.

After that, all I could think about was saving whatever was in that bag.

I told you, I wasn’t a good person, because looking back on it, I could’ve hurt or killed a lot of people doing what I did, including myself.

Before flooring it, I took a good look at their license plate, instinctively lowered my window, and then calculated the right angle.

I hit them so hard it spun us both around sideways, until finally, into the side of the bridge.

It was actually beautiful.

We were at an almost ninety-degree angle, like a slanted “V”, and wedged in good and tight. My car was now in front of the bag-throwing car. I was facing our side of the bridge, and they were facing the other.

That also brought traffic to a dead stop on our side.

That’ll make it easier, I thought, but realized that also left a lot of pissed off people behind me. I was gonna have to run through those people, and that included over the bag-throwing car.

What if they had guns, Beth asked me later, but I didn’t even think of that. That was probably a good thing, because it would’ve just slowed me down.

As soon as our cars hit the side of the bridge, I tried to open my door, but it was jammed shut.

I climbed out my window and onto the roof, all the while, counting the seconds in my head.

Eight seconds, nine seconds, ten seconds.

Burlap bags are not known for staying afloat very long, so as soon as I climbed on the roof, I took a quick look to see how far away the end of the bridge was, and it looked like it was miles away.

My heart sank, but I didn’t give up. I jumped over to the bag-throwing-car’s roof and finally down to the ground. All the while, dodging the hands of the driver and passenger by stepping on them.

After I hit the ground running, I heard a car door open behind me, and maybe two people getting out and taking off after me.

That’s what it sounded like, but I didn’t care. I was fast, but would I be fast enough to save an animal’s life? That was the real problem, not the guys chasing me.

Fourteen seconds, fifteen seconds, sixteen seconds.

The guy in the car behind us, was now in front of me, and was also starting to get out of his car. I had to detour around his shotgun side, as the precious seconds ticked away in my head.

Nineteen seconds, twenty seconds, twenty-one seconds.

I could tell there was more than one person behind me, and they were about two seconds away.

I didn’t care. I had to see how far down it was, and if it wasn’t too far, I could jump.

I slowed down a little to look over the side, but no way. It was over forty to fifty feet, and I was right over the riverbank, with big boulders everywhere.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw four guys closing in on me, and took off running again. I wasn’t running because I was afraid of being beat up. I had a better reason.

Twenty-four seconds, twenty-five seconds, twenty-six seconds.

While running, I had this irresistible impulse to just dive over the side and take my chances, but thank God, because that’s when I saw both a tree to the left and a cop car up ahead on my right.

I put on some extra speed and raced full blast towards the cop car, weaving in and out of a couple other cars that were between us.

The cop was just getting out when I pulled up.

While breathing hard and counting in my head, I gave him my wallet, pointed to the guys chasing me and in between gasp, told him, “I saw one of those guys... throw a burlap bag into the river... something alive,” I gasped.

“That was twenty-eight, twenty-nine seconds ago... I think... I think I can save what’s in the bag,” I finally finished.

He didn’t even think about it.

“Go! I’ll see what I can do from up here,” he said and took my wallet from me, well, picked it up off the ground really. I was already running, as fast as I could, towards that tree.

Thirty seconds, thirty-one seconds, thirty-two seconds.

When I got close to where the tree and bridge almost met, I got that irresistible impulse again, but I didn’t have time to think about it and just dived over the side.

I saw a branch, about twenty feet under me, and from there, it was about ten feet to the ground.

All of this didn’t register with me until after I’d already jumped.

I grabbed the branch on the way down, and almost got a good hold of it, when it slipped out of my hands. I fell the rest of the way, about ten feet, but still remembered to roll as soon as I hit the ground.

For some reason, as I rolled and started running back down towards the river, I remembered that old joke about the fall not being what killed ya, but that sudden stop at the end. That’s what really gets ya.

It’s true, and I laughed then, but I wasn’t laughing now.

Thirty-nine seconds, forty seconds, forty-one seconds.

While I was jumping, or rather, falling to the ground, the cop had found his bullhorn and was trying to get the attention of some people nearer the riverbank.

Two of them ran down closer, but the bag had already disappeared.

At least he was trying, and that’s when I remembered seeing him somewhere before. I just couldn’t remember where, but that thought left me instantly.

Forty-five seconds, forty-six seconds, forty-seven seconds.

I should be getting tired, but something was pushing me to go even faster. Of course, it did help that the whole run and fall was mostly downhill.

As I got closer to the river, I looked up to see where my car was and saw that the cop had turned on his flashing lights.

Just ahead of that, I could see my car, and calculated from that where the bag had probably fallen. If my calculations were correct, it not only made it into the river, but also wasn’t too far out to swim, and maybe I wasn’t too late, maybe.

If, my calculations were once again correct. I was fucking with Lady Luck big time on this one.

Fifty-eight seconds, fifty-nine seconds, one minute.

There was only one way to find out, and on a dead run, dived in and swam as fast as I could to where I hoped the bag would be.

One minute and ten seconds, one minute and eleven seconds, one minute and twelve seconds.

I was almost ready to give up, when I spotted it and dived down, praying to any God that would listen, and Lady Luck too.

Please, please, don’t let me be too late.

I reached the bag, grabbed it and whatever was inside moved, and that got me crying. I swam back up to the surface as fast as I could.

Yes, you can cry under water.

When I broke the surface, one of the guys who’d run down before me, had obviously followed me into the river and was waiting when I broke the surface.

He had questions all over his face, but understood perfectly, when he saw the burlap bag move.

I finally got the bag to shore and opened it. The six little bunnies inside were all still alive, but the smallest one didn’t look too good.

Before diving into the river, I’d dropped my phone in some bushes, and as soon as I found it, I called Beth.

While waiting for her to answer, I remembered the cop. I gave him a thumbs-up, and that’s when I noticed the crowd of people who’d stopped to watch.

Well, I’d forced most of them to do it. A captive audience so to speak, but still, when I gave him the OK sign, they all erupted into a loud roaring cheer.

It was truly an amazing sight, and for the first time since my evil act, a rush hit me so hard that it knocked me to my knees again.

Although, this time, it lasted for a whole lot longer than a fucking second, and now I’ve got to go eat.

CHAPTER 2

Monday, October 20th (dictated 6:40 pm, Oct 29).

I just got back from dinner, and Darryl did a fucking awesome job, but more on that later, because right now, I’m jumping back to Monday, the twentieth.

That was the day I had to go in and see the DA about my little accident.

He was not a happy camper, and that was putting it nicely.

At least, that’s what his secretary said, when she called last Friday to invite me in.

“Bring a toothbrush,” was the last thing she said.

I was not looking forward to that meeting at all, and that’s putting it optimistically. I’m usually not that good at being the optimist, but Beth was.

And sometimes, she wasn’t.

“Damn babe, I hope that prison is close by, you know, so I can go visit and shit, and I don’t even know your real name. What do I say? I’ve come to see the Little Criminal? Yeah, that’ll go over big,” she said, and then calmly took a sip of her coffee.

“You might think it’s funny, but that could really happen. As a matter of fact, I bought a new toothbrush, just in case.”

I showed it to her, and she laughed, “Don’t worry. You ain’t going nowhere.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Beth, I could’ve killed a lot of people doing what I did.”

“I know. It’s why I won’t ever let you drive. You’re a dork on crazy pills when you get behind the wheel.”

“Your logic escapes me somehow. If I’m that bad, shouldn’t I go to jail?”

“You’ve got good instincts, babe, and if we were being chased by a truckload of gangsters, you’d be the man, but you drive like that all the time. It’s nerve-racking.”

“You know I was a stunt driver, right? I took classes and everything.”

“What’s that got to do with anything? And besides, you were in one movie, and it wasn’t even real. It was some high school project, and you didn’t even drive more than thirty feet.”

“It was a college project, and I drove over a hundred feet.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, hot shot, but driving back to do a reshoot does not make it a hundred feet.”

“It does in my book.”

“Yours must be out of print, because mine says thirty,” and that got us going round and round, jumping from subject to subject, like we always did, until Barry called.

Usually, I’m not around on Monday to do a round and round with Beth, but after what happened last Wednesday, I decided to ask for a couple days off.

I got up like usual on Thursday morning, turned the TV on, and then called Alicia.

Beth usually got up with me and made coffee, unless she’d been up late, but other than the bunnies, last night was a quiet night for her.

She was in the kitchen singing that song that used to frustrate the hell out of me, because I couldn’t figure out what it was.

Alicia answered after two rings, “Hello,” and I could tell she was in her car.

“Hey Allie. It’s me, Crim,” I said pleasantly, and then asked for some time off because of what happened.

“Was that you!? I saw that on the news last night, and it’s on the radio right now. Here, listen.”

I could almost hear the radio in the background, but then it got louder.

“...this mysterious person is? The license plates were missing from the car that caused the accident, and so far, the police haven’t released the driver’s name. The first officer on the scene did arrest the driver and passenger of the car that was hit, but no word yet on what the charges were.”

“See,” Alicia said after turning the radio down, “and everyone’s all worked up about it too. One of the TV guys even called you a psycho driver.”

“Psycho driver?” I asked, and then heard Beth start to laugh in the kitchen.

“Psycho driver,” she said and laughed some more.

The song Psycho Killer started playing in my head, and I even started humming along with it.

“They don’t know about the bunnies yet, Crim, but honestly, I thought the same thing, dude,” she said, and then switched gears.

“As far as some time off, I think you should go deep undercover for a couple years, but until next Wednesday’s the best I can do. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like more than enough time, but would you do me a favor, please?”

“What?”

“Don’t mention this to anyone, ok?”

“I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises.”

I tried to make her promise, but all I got was a promise that she’d try.

After we clicked off, I turned the volume up on the TV. It was too early for most stations, but the one I had on advertised itself as the earliest news anywhere, and it was scheduled to start in ten minutes.

The anchors were a little too cheery for my taste, especially this early in the morning, but after some coffee, I didn’t care as much.

While I waited for that show to start, I checked my phone to see if there was anything out there yet with my name on it.

Alicia was right, the story was everywhere. The national news had a little blurb on it, and one of the local newspapers even had it as a headline.

While I was reading that story, the TV news started up, and my accident was also the lead story there, but like everyone else, they didn’t know who I was either.

All that publicity started to get me a little scared, because I really didn’t want anyone to know who or where I lived, and that’s why I took precautions.

When I put the security cams in, I also put in a few other devices that would not only help keep me anonymous, but also safe. You know, just in case we really did get chased by a truckload of gangsters someday.

Even without the gun mounts, James Bond would’ve loved my car.

After lowering the window, I threw a switch that activated one of those devices, and it started up two small motors that lowered a metal panel over each of my license plates.

I’m sure eventually, someone’s gonna be able to figure out my name, but I was hoping that I’d be old news by then.

I have no real problem with the press, but sometimes they can get a little too nosey, and I’m sure they’d put it out there, when they found out what I did to Scratches.

Besides the press, the only other loophole was that cop, but after calling for help and arresting those two guys, he came over with my wallet.

I showed him the bunnies, and then, out of the blue, he promised to keep my name out of it, for now anyway.

Who was that cop, and why did he do that? He didn’t even know me, or did he? It was frustrating, because he looked so damn familiar.

I didn’t ask or even complain about it, because the important thing was that so far, no angry mob was gonna be able to find me and storm the house.

On the one hand, you could say that I’m just being paranoid, but when someone’s already tried to kill me with a fifty-pound rock, I’d say that paranoia was justified.

While I was mulling that over, I realized that the TV anchors were cheerfully using the word “hero” in place of my name.

That was different, because everyone else was calling me some kind of psycho, and I began humming that song again.

“You’re not a psycho killer,” Beth yelled from the kitchen.

A minute later, she appeared with two cups of coffee, put them on a small table, gave me a hug, and then slapped me. I mean, she really hit me hard, and before I could say ow, she slapped me again.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she said, and then gave me another hug.

“I’m sorry, and I know you can’t help it sometimes, but damn it Crim, I don’t want you to die either, because that would kill me too.”

I didn’t know what to say, because trading my life for an animal’s was the only justification that I had for still being alive today.

In the beginning, I didn’t care about the impulses, or the crazy shit that it made me do, because it was either keep the Darkness away, or die trying.

Back then, dying would’ve solved everything, but now, I’d be leaving Beth and our babies behind, and that was no longer an option. I deserved it, but they were innocent and didn’t.

It’s why I consciously tried to stop the impulses now, but most of the time, I couldn’t, and someday I wasn’t gonna have Lady Luck on my side anymore.

That was always on my mind, but sometimes, like now, a long hug from Beth made it easier to deal with.

While I was enjoying that, I saw Barry on TV.

“Babe, look who’s on TV.”

“What? Holy shit!”

I turned up the volume, and Barry was introducing them to the smallest bunny, while explaining what happened.

They asked him who I was, and I braced myself, but he dodged the question by saying, “My Assistant brought him in and explained it to me, but never told me the driver’s name.”

“What’s the name of your Assistant?”

I could feel Beth’s hand tighten around mine, as Barry also dodged that one.

“Sorry, but my Assistant’s under contract, and it has a confidentiality clause attached to it.”

I looked at Beth, “Is that true?”

“I didn’t even know I was under contract,” she said, and we both laughed.

The reporter then asked Barry, “Is this driver a menace or a hero? What do you think Doctor?”

Barry swept his hand around the room where he kept the overnighters. The camera also gave us a look around, and most of the cages were empty, but I did see a couple kittens and a dog.

“I’m biased of course, but if I may, I’d like to ask your viewers to put themselves in the place of this bunny,” he said, and the camera zoomed in on the little bunny again.

“Imagine being tied inside a burlap sack, falling, and then sinking to the bottom of a river. You fight and struggle, but finally, you’re too tired to fight any more, and your lungs are screaming for air.

“You’ve got no choice but to take that final, fatal breath.

“Now, you might not appreciate being saved, but this bunny sure does, and I happen to agree with him,” he said; and as if on cue, the bunny twitched its nose, squirmed around until he was comfortable again and actually yawned, before going back to sleep.

A commercial came on, and Beth turned the TV off.

“Well, it looks like we’ve got someone on our side anyway,” she said, and then laughed, “besides the bunnies of course.”

“I should go over and thank him for that. What time does he open up?”

“You ain’t going nowhere near that place, hound dog, until Sunday. You know how the press is, and besides, our job is here, getting ready for the Big Bunny Move.”

That’s when we were scheduled to go over to Barry’s and pick up the sixth bunny.

Until then, the other five stayed inside a fort, that we’d made out of pillows in the middle of our bed.

I pitched a tent near the fireplace, and that’s where we slept, like we were on some kind of weird, reverse camping trip. We even lit a fire, sang campfire songs and toasted marshmallows.

It was fun, you know?

Anyway, since we decided to put the bunnies together with the piggies, that meant we didn’t have to build another pen.

The one that was already out in the barn was twenty by forty inside, and the same size outside. To keep the hawks away, I covered that part with chicken wire.

There was an opening in the wall to go in and out, and just on the other side of that, we planted a big patch of clover, just for the bunnies.

Did I say that’s what we decided, well, that’s wrong, because I didn’t have a thing to say about it. Beth’s the one who decided, and I couldn’t budge her an inch.

I wasn’t sure that they’d get along and wanted to keep them separated at first, but Beth laughed and told me, “Don’t worry. They’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

While we waited for the Big Bunny Move, Beth, in her patient and gentle way, showed me how to feed them and make sure they were comfortable. She also gave me some anatomy lessons, but I fell asleep during those.

Yesterday, I got up, and Beth was gone. I wondered where she went, until I got to the bedroom.

All the bunnies were gone.

I turned to run screaming out of the house but banged right into Beth instead.

I screamed anyway.

She shushed me and said, “They’re out in the barn. It’s been two hours and nothing’s happened.”

She gave me a smile that was so crooked and so confident, it irked me a little, and I almost ran out of there to find even the smallest thing wrong with the smallest thing.

It’s one of the very few things that I’m really good at, but this time I couldn’t find a thing to criticize. Of course, it was in Beth’s favor that all of them were sleeping together in that clover patch. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen, and Beth thought so too.

After that, I found Beth waiting in the car, and she was still smiling.

“Told you. Now come on, let’s go get Grunt.”

“Grunt?” I asked and got in on the shotgun side.

“He’s small now, but he’ll be the one doing the heavy lifting later. You’ll see,” she said, smiling like it was a matter of fact already.

After we got back, Beth fed him, and he went right in and cuddled up with the others in the clover patch. Our smallest pig, Arnold, woke up, looked around, snorkeled once, licked the newcomer a couple times, and then went right back to sleep.

That bunny was the smallest of the bunch, but he even looked smaller next to the pigs.

Bunch? What do you call a bunch of bunnies?

While trying to give me anatomy lessons, Beth also told me a lot of fun bunny facts, and here are some of them.

The most common names for a bunch of bunnies were herd, colony, nest, and the funniest one of them all, a fluffle. Baby bunnies were also known as kittens, and one alone was a kit.

After Grunt got comfortable, Beth decided that they all needed names, and as usual, was the first to get the ball rolling.

“The crazy one’s easy,” she said. “I’m calling him the Little Criminal.”

“You would, but what about the other four?”

“Let’s see. That one looks like a little bull, so I think Bullseye’s a good name.”

“I like it,” I said, “and I want to call that one Jack. You know, for Jack Rabbit”

“That’s a good one,” Beth laughed, and pointed to one of the last two. “Doesn’t she look like she’s got a couple guns in her back pocket?”

“She does.”

“Let’s call her Gunner.”

Not that it ever mattered, but I agreed again, and of course, we had to name the last one Bugs.

Sunday night, after the Big Bunny Move, we took turns watching and waiting for the Big Pig and Bunny Brawl to go down. Well, I took turns with myself, because Beth thought it was pointless, and she was right again, damn it.

They got along better than great and even slept together through the whole night.

The next morning, while we went round and round about prison life and all kinds of other shit, I got ready to go in and see the DA.

Earlier, when I checked the TV, there was nothing about the accident anywhere, but Beth did find something a local blogger had written last week.

“People Are More Important Than Animals,” was the title, and it criticized the policeman for not arresting me on the spot.

After Beth told me about it, she added, “It came out a couple hours before the DA called. It might’ve been one of the reasons why.”

“It might’ve been,” I said and thought about it for a few seconds before asking, “Do you think he should’ve arrested me on the spot? He told me that he was gonna leave that up to the DA, but shouldn’t he of anyway?”

“Wasn’t he busy arresting those other two guys?”

“He was, but maybe somebody else should’ve. I’m not saying I wanted to get arrested, hell, I didn’t even think about it at the time. That little bunny, Grunt, looked really bad, babe.”

“I tried to get there as fast as I could, hon, but you had traffic backed up for almost a mile, and I had to park and run the rest of the way. I’m not really surprised that it made the news.”

“That cop sure looked awful familiar, but I just can’t place him.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if you really do have a photographic memory.”

“I’m not like that guy on TV, you know. If I recognize someone, I have to generally know when we met, before I’ll know who they are.”

“Ok, but what’s your excuse for not remembering the garbage last night?”

“I plead the fifth.”

Before she could answer, the phone rang. It was Barry.

I didn’t even want to know what it was about.

“Just go. You know my motto.”

“Shoot you first, and then ask questions later?” she said, checked her gun, and then grabbed her little suitcase.

Before heading out the door, she kissed me and added, “I’m just kiddin’. This one’s really, really bad, Crim. Really, really bad.”

I didn’t want to know anything more. I opened the door, and practically pushed her outside.

“Call me, even if it’s from jail,” she said, and then was gone.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” I yelled after her.

After I moved, Pee Wee and I still talked, but it was nothing like the old days. He even disappeared for a while, and I heard that he was out west driving the big rigs, but after that, I lost track.

Then, I heard he was back, married, and working as a mechanic at a cab company that they both owned.

At the time, I didn’t feel right about going over to visit him, but ever since that fateful day in the library, we’ve been hanging out at least once a month, and it was just like the old days.

Except, Beth didn’t know anything about it, or who he was, or about any of my other secret friends either. At this point in my Journal, it’s the only thing she didn’t know about me, or so I thought.

Anyway, all of that was unimportant, because what was important was that Pee Wee had a tow-truck, and just before Beth got there, I called and asked for help with my car.

He told me to shut up and even hung up on me, when I couldn’t stop apologizing for calling him on such short notice.

Beth even shook her head, “That was pathetic, boyfriend.”

Anyway, while Pee Wee was fixing mine, I was driving a rental.

On the way to the Courthouse, I put my phone on speaker and gave him a call.

“There’s nothing really seriously wrong with the thing, buddy,” Pee Wee told me. “I mean you could drive it away today, but at least let me fix that door first. I’ve got a part coming in for it tomorrow morning.”

“Just make sure it’s safe, man. Beth also drives that thing sometimes,” I said, and then added, “and I want to be able to count on my wheels, when we start our Halloween patrols this weekend. The question is will it be ready?”

“I hear you, and it’ll be ready by tomorrow night, at the latest.”

“Man, you’re a life saver, and send me the bill. Whatever it cost, you’re worth it,” I said half-jokingly, but then got serious. “I’m serious though. Whatever it cost. You know I’m good for it.”

“I do, and even if you weren’t, I’d consider it my personal contribution to the cause.”

“You already do more than enough, Wee,” I told him and then asked, “How’s Mouse, by the way?”

“Good. She’s a little mad at you for trying to kill yourself again saving those bunnies, but I think she’s happier that you did,” he said, and then corrected himself, “or didn’t. You know what I mean.”

We chatted about that for a few, and then about my meeting with the DA, until I pulled into the parking-lot across the street from the Courthouse.

Pee Wee told me to be careful, and I promised to try.

We clicked off, and I got out of the car.

As I crossed the street, a bus hit me going eighty miles an hour.

I wish, but fortunately, that didn’t happen.

The cop, I’d given my wallet to, was there. He smiled and came over to shake my hand.

“I just wanted to come over and thank you personally.”

I shook his hand, and once again, wondered why he looked so damn familiar. I should know this guy.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

“I should, shouldn’t I?”

“I was the Desk Sergeant that morning you came in, toothbrush and burlap sack in hand ready to spend some serious time...” he handed me a card, “I see you’ve got another toothbrush.”

I was mentally hitting myself in the head by then. How could I forget this guy?

“I see you’re a detective now,” I said, not wanting to talk about that day again.

He didn’t seem to want to either, “Yeah, I got promoted a few years back, but a couple times a year, we have to wear the uniform. Back to our roots, they tell us.

“I think it’s a good idea actually, but listen,” he said, while lowering his voice and leading me into a far corner.

“I just wanted to talk with you for a minute, before you go in.”

First, he got me up to date on everything that happened after Beth came to pick me up.

He’d snagged the driver and his bag-throwing buddy, but they only ended up paying a thousand-dollar fine, and that was it.

Attempted animal cruelty was only a two hundred dollar fine per offense, with the maximum amount being a thousand dollars. I guess that last bunny was a freebie.

Except, because Grunt was the sixth bunny, he got the last laugh. They both had to spend one night in jail, just because there were more than five counts all together.

One night was better than nothing, but still, how disgusting is that?

Since they’d already spent the night in jail, they just pleaded guilty the next morning, paid the fine and left.

All that happened last week, while we were getting ready for the Big Bunny Move, and I waited patiently for the big brawl that never happened.

I focused back on Johnson and told him about the blog article.

He listened, and then added, “I was against giving you any kind of ticket, especially after I’d seen your car, the other car, and the way you both hit the bridge.

“That wasn’t reckless. That was calculated and very expertly done, although very stupid.”

“I know it was stupid...” I started to say.

He put his hand on my shoulder, sat me down, and then looked around, “Anything you say to me right now, I give you my word, I swear to God, I won’t repeat it to another living soul. This is between you and me and no one else.”

“Thank you and don’t worry. I’m ok with the reckless driving charge. I did endanger other people’s lives. I deserve whatever I get.”

Johnson shook his head slowly, “I hope you’ve got a good lawyer, because the DA’s really gunning for you. He’s beyond pissed. He wants to lock you up and throw away the key.”

“Look, I appreciate your advice Detective Johnson...”

“Please, call me Randy.”

“Like the pitcher?”

“Yeah, like the pitcher.”

“I appreciate the advice Randy, but I’m going in by myself. Whatever he decides, I’m fine with it, even if it involves some jail time, or even a lot of jail time.”

Johnson shook his head again, “I already convinced him to wait until today, but if you let me talk first, I know I can flip his mind, and you might not have to do any jail time at all.”

“Flip his mind?”

“How come Beth’s not here? What does she have to say about this?”

“How do you...”

“I’ve been following your case ever since that day...”

“I really don’t want to talk about that...”

“Don’t worry. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all history. I was more interested in what you’ve been doing since. Just to see how sincere you were, and I think almost getting killed saving some bunnies is pretty damn, fucking sincere.”

“I really didn’t have a choice,” I told him, and then explained a little bit about the Darkness and my impulses.

“You just dived over the side like it was nothing, and I couldn’t believe it.”

“I know. I was the one doing it, and I can’t believe it either.”

He laughed, but then got serious, “Why didn’t you just let that other car go? You had the license plate number? That accident was totally unnecessary, and you know it.”

“I know, I know, but when I saw them laughing, I just floored it. I didn’t even think about it.”

“That’s a pretty damn poor defense, Crim,” he said, using my nick naturally, like he’d been using it for years.

“It’s the worst kind, I know, but when the impulses take over, everything suddenly goes into super slow motion, and I know exactly what to do. It’s never failed me so far, except when I dived off the bridge. I didn’t get a good grip on that branch, and I’m usually able to do that, but it did slow me down,” I said, almost like I was talking to myself.

“Usually? Are you telling me that you’re jumping off things on a regular basis?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” I said, and saw the skeptical look in his face.

“The trick is in how you fall, and what you do on the way down. There’s always something there to slow you, especially if you’re close to the building, windows, ledges, fire escapes, or anything like that.

“If worse comes to worse, I’ve always got my magic rope.”

“Now see, that’s the kind of bullshit that you can’t sell to a guy like the DA,” he said and pointed to his office.

“I know, but it’s all I got, and it’s true.”

“Maybe,” he said, but still looked skeptical, “but you’re gonna need more than that, and that’s why you need what I got, and what I know.”

“Why are you doing all these nice things, Randy?” I had to ask. “I don’t even know you?”

He thought about it for a minute, and finally said, “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but at the time, I didn’t like you. Not one bit, and I wanted to take you out back and pistol whip you unconscious, and then pistol whip you again when you woke up, because that’s what I thought you really deserved.

“Honestly Crim, I was keeping a close watch on you, hoping to get you on something good, but after a year...” he said, stopped, and then sat down next to me, like we were old buddies.

After a couple seconds, he changed the subject, “I voted for that Initiative thing. What was it, Prop 216?” he said, and then laughed, “I always wondered how they figured that out?”

“Figured what out?”

“The Proposition number. Does someone shuffle a deck, and then three other people pick a card?”

“I think in this case, they were trying to predict how many votes it’d get, and they were damn close,” I said, and then added, “But, it wouldn’t have helped anyway. It was weak and very badly written, but I figured it was better than doing nothing.”

We sat there for a minute, before Johnson continued with his original thought, “After the election, you’d gotten the farm and was starting to work with Barry, and I could see that you weren’t just pretending. You really were trying to make amends, and that’s when I started hating you a whole lot less.

“Let’s just say, I felt bad about my original assessment, and figured that I owed you at least this much.”

He then gave me a quick run thru on everything that he had on me.

“I know where you work, about Beth, your friends, and especially Darryl.

“He and I go way back, and I must say, I’m pretty impressed. Especially with the Halloween patrol you guys do every year.

“Don’t worry, nothing goes any further than here, except for what I tell the DA. How are those bunnies by the way?”

I told him, and he laughed at how quickly they’d taken to Beth. I invited him to come by and check them out sometime.

“Beth’s on an emergency call. That’s why she’s not here.”

“A hurt animal?”

“Yup.”

“One more thing, but first, you have to promise me you’ll let me go in with you, and more importantly, let me talk first. Think about all those animals you take care of, and especially think about Beth.

“If you don’t want me to do it for you, then let me do it for them and Beth, please.”

He was making some good points, and I really couldn’t think of any good reason why not. I was already expecting the worst anyway, so having someone from Law Enforcement plead my case, might be exactly what I needed to stack some of the odds in my favor.

Besides, sometimes in life, you’ve got to take a chance on something, or someone, because then if things go in the crapper, you’ve got someone to blame.

Ha, ha, just kidding about that last part.

“Sure. Why not?” I told him, “but first you have to swear on those bunnies’ souls.”

Johnson laughed but still did it.

“I’m taking a hell of a chance here, but I think it’s worth it, and hopefully you don’t blow it for me,” he said after the swearing in, and then lowered his voice even further.

“Ok. Here’s the scoop. There are some guys at the station that don’t give a shit about what you did. All they talk about is how you almost killed a bunch of people, and I think one of them might even be the author of that blog piece.

“I understand their logic, but I love animals more, and one thing I also know is that so does the DA.

“Right now, he’s blinded by what you did before, and not what you did after. That blog piece probably didn’t help either.”

He paused and waved someone off that I didn’t see, then turned back to me, “I’m going to do something so dramatic, I don’t even want you to know what it is. You just have to trust me that it will definitely flip his mind.”

“I don’t know why, but I think you’re one of the good guys, and besides, you did the soul swearing thing. If things go south, though, I’m blaming everything on you. That’s part of the deal, by the way.”

He laughed, “Ok, I’ll take all the blame.”

“Ok then, let’s go.” I got up, and we both walked over to the door that opened into the Prosecutor’s outer office, where his secretary worked, the one who called to invite me in.

Johnson held me back, “Hold it. Let me go in first.”

He then waved to a guy who was holding this huge German Shepard back.

The guy followed Johnson in and had to literally drag that big-ass dog into the office with him. It viciously snarled and snapped at me, like it wanted a piece of me right this fucking minute. Not later, but right the fuck now.

What the hell was I getting myself into, I thought? This did not look good at all.

I called Beth.

She answered on the second ring and wanted to know what happened. I quickly told her about Johnson, the two guys, and the vicious looking big-ass German Shepard.

After swearing about the bag-throwing guy, she laughed a little, “I know what he’s doing. Don’t worry. You’ll survive.”

“That’s easy for you to say. How’s your emergency?”

“Really bad. A kitten almost got one of his hind legs crushed under a car when the Dad backed out. The family is devastated, especially the little girl. She can’t stop crying, and the Dad... he’s just out of it.”

“Oh my God! You’re kidding?”

“I know. It’s horrible, but Barry just told me, it isn’t as bad as I thought, and he knows he can save the leg. I used that new splint we’ve been working on, and even Barry was impressed.

“He might have a small limp, but other than that, he’ll be as good as new. Except,” and here she hesitated, “the kitten needs a quiet place for a couple days, and someone to be there in case of complications. You know how generous Barry is. He lets people slide all the time and doesn’t really have the money to hire a full-time overnighter.”

“I know, and you guys fight about it all the freakin’ time,” and I also knew where she was going with this.

This wasn’t the first time, and Barry was always there to help us out, like what he did last week on TV and also by keeping Grunt until things cooled down with the press a little.

“Of course, he can stay with us.”

“I knew you’d agree. That’s why I already said yes.”

“You would,” I said and noticed that Johnson was waving at me.

“Look, I’ve got to go and get viciously mauled by the biggest fucking German Shepard that I’ve ever seen in my whole fucking life. How’s Barry on human surgery? He any good?”

“You’ll survive,” she laughed. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” I answered, and then we clicked off.

As I followed Johnson in, I showed the secretary my toothbrush, and if you could give someone the finger with just a look, hers would’ve done it.

Before walking in, I hesitated for just a second, because that fucking dog was still snarling and growling at me.

It was tied to a big, heavy-ass fucking chair, but I wasn’t too sure about that, because as soon as I walked in, it jumped up and tried to get at me again, and it actually moved a little.

I hesitated again, but finally sat down and looked at the DA.

He wasn’t gonna be any help, because he was beyond pissed. He was enraged, “You’re going to prison, you mother-fucking sonova-FUCKING-bitch!” he said, snarling just like that dog, and spit was flying everywhere too.

That’s not totally true, but you get the idea.

He then forcefully calmed himself down, and said in a much calmer growl, “but, I promised Detective Johnson here two minutes, and then he’s gonna let the dog go.”

“I hope you have on some thick underwear,” he added, and then smiled, and it wasn’t a friendly one either.

“Actually, I hope you don’t.”

What the fuck, I thought, but before I could object, Johnson was already talking.

He explained quickly, very quickly, how he got involved, and how he’s been keeping an eye on me ever since.

When he got to our farm, and the Halloween patrol every year, the prosecutor settled back in his chair and relaxed a little.

“Not to mention the six bunnies he saved, and that’s why the accident happened.”

The DA took the bait, “Accident?”

“I was the first one on the scene, and I believe, because of his love of animals, he became distracted and didn’t see the car slow down until it was too late,” Johnson said, lying his ass off.

“He has a love for animals, that I’ve never seen before,” Johnson continued, “and because of it, animals will do almost anything for him, and I can prove it.”

That’s when he let the dog go.

As I’m dictating this now, I remember having this thought back then, that Johnson was sure laying it on a little thick here, but that got blotted out by this big-ass fucking animal lunging at me, snarling and snapping its jaws.

The DA was smiling too.

I don’t know why I didn’t try to protect myself. At least cover the important parts, but instead I opened my arms out to it, to her as it turns out.

Come to me baby, I thought, and it landed hard in my lap and started licking my face, and I started scratching it in the one place that almost all dogs love.

For some reason, most dog owners don’t know about this place. Cat owners either, and that’s right under the collar. All the way around, especially under the chin.

Dogs and cats love that shit. They love it a lot, and so would you, if you had to wear a collar 24/7.

The guy who’d brought the dog couldn’t believe it, Johnson just smiled, and the DA’s mouth was open in shock.

As he looked at me, I could see it. He wasn’t enraged anymore. More like maybe Johnson had flipped his mind, and then he proved it.

“He did leave the scene of an accident though. I can’t look the other way on that one,” he said thoughtfully, like he wanted to change his mind on that also, and Johnson gave him the opening he needed.

“He saw me, sir, and ran towards me. He feared for his life and wanted to save those bunnies. By the time he got to me, four guys were chasing him. One of them had a gun,” Johnson said, and almost as an afterthought, added, “He also gave me his wallet, sir.”

When I got to that part of the collar under the dog’s chin, the DA could see that the dog was loving it and chuckled.

“I want to see that farm of yours.”

I explained that we were keeping a hurt kitten there for a couple days.

“It’s the whole reason we have him there. Peace and quiet, and beg your pardon, sir, but you’re not really my idea of...”

It wasn’t the real reason, but it was good enough.

“Say no more,” he said and shook his head, “I have to tell you, I hated you. I really did, but now, and I’m man enough to admit that I might’ve jumped the gun there. So, here’s what I’ll do.

“I’ll ask for five years’ probation for the involuntary reckless endangerment and get Detective Johnson here assigned as the person you’ll report to.

“He’ll report directly to me, but if you ever, do something as stupid and asinine as this again...” He let that last part speak for itself. I was going to jail for a long time is what he didn’t say.

While the DA went in to see the judge, we talked about the weather, and we all agreed that yesterday was an exceptionally nice day.

“We could use a little rain though. Don’t you think?” I offered, but that didn’t get us too far either.

After we finally exhausted that subject, Johnson introduced me to Bob and Sandy.

He shook my hand but didn’t say anything.

“Bob’s my partner. He’s one of those who thought you should do some serious time. What do you think now, Bob?”

Bob looked at Johnson for a second, “Yes I am,” and then looked at how the dog was loving me, “or was anyway. Now, I don’t know. Sandy has some personal issues, and some of the guys keep telling me to put her down, before someone gets hurt or killed.

“I really thought that’d be today, but Randy guaranteed that wouldn’t happen. He’s never been wrong about her yet, but what really clinched it was when he told me why,” Bob said mysteriously, and then stopped.

I was still scratching Sandy behind each ear, and she lifted her chin up, like she was saying, “Right here. Right under the chin. Yeah, yeah, come on. You know you want to,” and of course, that’s where I went.

“Some of those same guys think the same thing about you, and that included me,” Bob continued, “and well, she’s been my partner for longer than Randy has. I’d trust her judgment over all those other guys, even Randy’s, in a minute.”

“You know what?” Johnson asked, and then answered, “I would too, but listen, I can handle Sandy from here if you want to take off.”

“Naw, I’m kind of curious to see how this all ends,” he said, and then looked at me, “If you don’t mind?”

“Nope, I’m kind of curious too,” I answered back.

We didn’t have long to wait. The DA got back less than a minute later, gave me some papers to sign, and then said, “It’s all set, but remember what I told you.”

As I signed, my hands shook a little, and the only answer that came to me was, “Don’t get you mad?”

He laughed, and then turned to Johnson. “Check that farm out for me, will you Detective? The first chance you get and take some pictures, if you think it’ll help.”

He then turned back to me, we shook hands, and before I could let go, he took a firm hold and said, “I don’t ever want to see you again. I mean it.”

I didn’t even smile, “Don’t worry. I don’t have any desire to ever see you again either,” and then we were gone.

We took the stairs down to the street, but I stopped at the first landing.

“You son of a bitch!” I yelled at Johnson.

“I mean, thank you, and it did work out, but damn it, what if it hadn’t you son of a bitch?!”

Bob and Sandy were getting the hell out there, but Johnson had stopped to hear me out.

“Don’t worry. I had a back-up plan,” he said and waved thanks to Bob, and I did too.

I didn’t want to know what his back-up plan was, so I just let it go. He probably didn’t have one anyway.

“Do you really believe all that stuff you said about me and animals?” I asked and continued down the stairs.

“Well, almost all of it. I think Beth is better than you, but other than that, yeah, I do,” he said and followed me.

“If you want, stop by Saturday and check us out. You can see how happy the bunnies are,” I said and then added, “We’ll have a barbeque, but no pork, please.”

“Ok. You can count on it. I’ll give you a call later.”

“You’re still a son of a bitch,” I hollered one last time before getting into my rental.

I was chuckling about that as I drove, when I suddenly realized that my name was now gonna be part of the public records and almost drove off the road.

I braked and just sat there for five minutes.

How long before the reporters came, and then the angry mobs?

I started the car and couldn’t think of anything else for the rest of the day.

CHAPTER 3

Wednesday, October 22nd (dictated 6:58 pm, Oct 29).

It’s off to work I go, but first, let me tell you what happened after my name went public.

Nothing. Not a fucking thing.

I was expecting a whole truckload of reporters to call or just show up, because I’m such a big-ass celebrity now, but nothing happened.

Sometimes, I’m just so full of myself, and I was disappointed, but I also knew that being anonymous was the best thing that could happen, especially with my history.

After my meeting with the DA, and while I waited for the horde of reporters, and the lynch mobs, Beth and I took care of the little kitten, whose name was Fishy.

Once again, we made a little fort of pillows, put him right in the middle, and camped out near the fireplace, singing campfire songs and roasting marshmallows again.

That didn’t last too long, because Fishy’s temperature started going up right after dinner, and Beth spent the rest of the night trying to keep him cool and checking every few minutes to make sure it didn’t get too high.

I tried to help, but there really wasn’t a whole lot I could do.

Beth had everything under control, and I fell asleep about three in the morning. We’d abandoned the tent by then and were both sleeping on the floor next to the bed.

I didn’t get much sleep, because I was still worried about Fishy, and the angry mobs showing up, but I did get some.

Beth woke me a little after seven to tell me his temp was down a whole degree, and she was so happy, but also looked absolutely exhausted.

I told her to go upstairs and take a nap, and she didn’t even argue with me. She grabbed a pillow and a blanket and crawled inside the tent instead of climbing up all those stairs.

She got a couple hours sleep, before Barry came by to see how everyone was surviving. He laughed at our little arrangement in the living room, and then went in to see Fishy.

“I was scared for a little while,” Beth told him, "but even though it was a little high, it remained steady, and now he’s back down to normal.”

They talked for a few minutes while I made coffee. I knew it was a waste of time, because I also knew what was coming, but it was like a tradition by now.

I filled three cups, put them on a tray, and carried them into the bedroom. Barry was thanking Beth for her help, and then tried to give her money.

That’s how it always started, because that’s when she’d tell him to get the fuck out of the house, and he’d always laugh right back at her.

I put the tray down, grabbed my coffee, and went to wait near the back door. They never lasted long, but what surprised me was that Barry never swore, except at the end of one of these arguments.

He’d tell her he could afford it, and she’d tell him he couldn’t, and back and forth they’d go, until he came steaming out of the room.

“That woman is just so fucking stubborn,” he’d say, and I’d agree with him, just like every other fucking time.

He went outside to check on Grunt again. I followed, and except for his weight, Barry told me, “He’s as fit as a fiddle, and will probably outlive us all.”

“Ever since we put him out here with his family, he’s been eating like a little pig,” I said, and then apologized to Arnold and his crew, “No insult intended.”

Arnold snorkeled something back that sounded like, “Fuck you,” and Barry laughed, and I had to laugh too, because it was funny.

On the way to his car, he promised to come by Friday and pick up Fishy.

I thanked him again for what he did on TV, and he didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Didn’t we already go through this on Sunday?,” I asked, and then added, “You know, the stuff you said on TV last week.”

“I mean, the less I know, the better,” he explained, and then winked, “but you’re welcome anyway.”

Sorry, I got a little off track there, because like I said, today I went back to work.

We’ve never really talked about that, have we? You know some things, but not a whole lot. It never really came up or was that important. You already knew what the Darkness does, and this would be just more of the same, but now it’s important, because that’s where the talking Cat is being held captive.

Just to make sure you got the basics, let’s review.

What The Company does is breed mice, and then sells them to research labs in the U.S. and all over the world, including Europe, South America, Israel, China, Thailand, and even Russia.

Even though a couple thousand were shipped out every week, almost ten-thousand were always here, weaning, sleeping, drinking, eating and breeding.

Of course, they also used their cages like outhouses, and that’s why they had to be changed-out every week or switched with clean ones.

My job was to clean those dirty cages, and then prepare them for the next change-out.

That’s it. That pretty much explains my whole job, but obviously, I didn’t do this by myself. Twenty-four other people also worked with me in Cage-Wash. That’s the name everyone called us instead of the Vivarium Sterilization and Preparation Department, because that’s a hell of a mouthful.

You know about most of that already, Dr. Zinger, but the three important things you don’t know about are the Secret Lab, the Secret Room, and the killings.

The Secret Lab was where they genetically engineered the monster mice and mixed them in with all the others.

I’ve been told, confidentially, that someday those monster mice will genetically modify themselves, and then start eating all our plastic trash and pissing it out as clean drinking water.

Ok, none of that is true, except, maybe for the rumour about the water, and it wasn’t even a Secret Lab either.

Everyone knew where it was and could make an appointment to tour it anytime they wanted, except for the clean rooms. Visitors could look through a couple windows, but no one could go inside, except for the Researchers.

When they first built it, the computers were huge and took up twenty-three rooms all by themselves.

Today, it’s modern and sophisticated enough to do all kinds of unimaginable genetic engineering, and the computers can also now fit into one room, and that left twenty-two empty ones.

The Company rented those out to ten independent labs, and if they used mice in their research, then we also cleaned those cages.

Still awake? Good, ‘cause one of the rooms they rented out was the Secret Room, or as I liked to call it, the Entrance to Hell, and it’s also where they kept the talking Cat, but more about that in a little bit.

First, I gotta tell you about the killings.

They called it Euthanasia, and that made it sound all cuddly and shit, but to me, it was an evil fucking thing, and I hated it.

The first time I heard about it, I was on my first tour of duty on the Dark-Side.

Cage-Wash was divided into two sections by a cement wall. The larger section was called the Clean Side, and the smaller one was called the Dirty-Side. I liked to call that one the Dark-Side, because that’s where mice went to die.

After the change-outs, the Technicians, or Techs, brought the dirty cages over to the Dark-Side. The two people who were working there that week would take turns dumping, spraying, and then sending them over to the Clean-Side.

No one worked on the Dark-Side all the time. Each of us worked two weeks there, and then six weeks on the Clean-Side. A two-month schedule was posted in the Break Room showing which two people worked each week.

During my first tour of duty, Denise was my partner, and she explained what we did and also about all the killings.

“That’s the Grinder, the Tunnel, the Cart-Washer and finally the autoclave.

“The racks come in loaded with dirty cages. We dump the cages into the Grinder, spray them down, and then put them in the Tunnel.”

“Did you say Tunnel?” I asked.

She pointed into it, “Doesn’t it look like one?”

Someone from the Clean-Side waved, and we waved back.

“It sure does,” I agreed.

“Once a rack is empty,” she continued, “we send them to the Clean-Side by way of the Cart-Washer.

“We use it for carts and things like that too, but mostly it’s used for racks, although, for some reason, no one’s ever called it a Rack-Washer.”

She pointed to a metal door that was right next to it.

“That’s the autoclave, and it’s used to send anything that has to be sterilized first, or can’t be sent through the other machines,” she said, and then showed me how to start and stop each one, and then how to dump cages and send them through the Tunnel.

“That’s it. That’s the whole shebang, except for the killings.”

“The killings?” I asked.

She showed me a bright yellow line that was tapped to the floor near the only door in and out.

“That’s the de-contamination line. Anything passing over it is considered contaminated and can’t leave this room, unless it’s de-contaminated first. That means, the only way out of here is by Tunnel, Cart-Washer or autoclave.”

“How the hell do we get out of here?”

“Oh, we can leave, but we can’t go anywhere else in the Vivarium, except back here, unless we first take a shower and change into clean scrubs.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked, and then added, “It makes sense to me.”

“It does make sense, but that’s not my problem with it,” she said and shook her head.

“My problem is with the mice.”

“Why? What’s wrong with the mice?”

“We can’t send them through the Tunnel, Cart-Washer, autoclave, or wash them in a shower...”

“Why would you want to?”

“I don’t want to, but if they cross over that line,” she said and pointed at the de-contamination line again.

That’s when I realized what she was talking about. A mouse could mistakenly end up over here, and then... “What? You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I were Crim, but it’s a fact of life in here and everywhere else in research. Mice aren’t worth diddly if they’re not being used in experiments or are contaminated.”

“We should do something... shit, I wish I’d known about this before,” and actually started thinking about looking for another job.

She looked at me curiously before answering, “We should, but what? Realistically, even if by some magical force of nature, we were able to convince everybody in the world to let all the mice go, where would they go, and what would they eat?

“We’re talking about millions of mice, maybe billions. Even the ones in here would probably starve or die some other horrible way, but at least in here, they have food and their death is painless.”

“The cat population would probably explode too,” I said absentmindedly and wondered if getting another job would even work. I’d still know about this place.

“No doubt, but think about it, Crim, and I hate to admit it, but on some level, it makes sense. The only reason all these mice are here is for research, and they really are better off in here, then out there.”

I sighed, “I guess, but damn it, we should still do something, at least for the mice that end up in here.”

Denise looked at me for a few seconds, and then smiled, “Most people don’t like it either, but they pretend like it’s no big deal. It’s a fact of life, girl, deal with it, but maybe you’re different.”

Oh, I’m different all right, I thought, but instead said, “We can certainly try. Now, tell me about the killings.”

She was happy to explain, in detail, all about it.

By law, Euthanasia had to be done humanely and quickly, and that was code for painless. Either gas or a scalpel was used, but most of the time, it was gas.

“I think I remember someone telling me that it was carbon monoxide, but don’t quote me on that one.”

A knife was only used in the most extreme of cases, for example, if the gas would negatively affect the research, or if they hadn’t been weaned yet.

When they were that young, if they were gassed, there was a real chance they’d vomit and choke to death, and that definitely wouldn’t be humane or painless.

“In those cases, a knife is used to severe their spinal cords, and death’s supposed to be instantaneous,” Denise said, and then added, “or so I’ve been told.”

That got me thinking about how that would work with humans, but instead of going there, I tried to concentrate on what she was saying.

There were three reasons why research mice were killed.

The first was to see how a project was progressing. One or several mice were chosen at random and euthanized.

The specific area being researched was then poked, prodded, measured, photographed and analyzed in so many different ways, that I couldn’t even begin to explain them all. At least, not without starting a whole new Journal on that subject alone, and if you think this one’s boring. That one’ll put ya in a coma.

The second was when it ended. The expense of continuing to feed mice they didn’t need any more, suddenly became an unnecessary expense, and thousands of mice were killed in one swoop.

That’s the one that got me worried about the Darkness, but the third reason was even more troubling, because that one happened right in front of me.

Denise was emphasizing that point by stabbing me in the chest and yelling, “The third reason... THE THIRD REASON! REALLY! PISSES! ME! OFF!!”

“What the fuck, girl?! That hurts.”

“Sorry, but that’s how it makes me feel.”

I looked back at the de-contamination line and began to get a lot more than just a little worried about what the Darkness was gonna do, especially since there was nothing I could do about it? I had to idly sit back and watch them take a mouse away to die.

I wasn’t in any way looking forward to finding out what happened next, but that’s as far as we got before the cages started coming in, and we had to do some real work.

Denise showed me how to dump the cages one more time. Once I got the hang of it and started going a little faster, she switched to feeding them into the Tunnel.

She pushed a button, the spray jets whooshed on, and you couldn’t see to the Clean-Side anymore.

Every couple hours, we switched places.

Not too long after lunch, while I was dumping cages again, it happened.

Denise was feeding the Tunnel and also telling me about all the ins and outs of the place, especially the weekly meetings.

“Once a week, we all get together, ate donuts and learned about all the new rules, procedures and other boring bullshit like that, but the important part was at the end.”

“What happens then?”

“We get to ask questions, complain and make suggestions. I’ve been trying to get them to listen to me for a while, and well, I’m not getting anywhere.

“Maybe they’ll listen, if they have to deal with two of us, instead of just me.”

“We also have to stay on this side of the firing line.”

“Yup. We can’t help the mice, if we get fired.”

I didn’t hear that last part. I had to replay it later, because a mouse fell out of one of the cages, flopped around, and then started slipping into the machine.

“Holy shit!” I screamed, immediately shut the Grinder off, and made a grab for it, just as it lost its grip and was headed straight into the spinning metal spokes that grounded everything up.

I didn’t even realize how close I’d come to getting my own hand mangled until later, and I don’t know how I was able to grab it either, but when I pulled my hand up, I had it by one of its tiny ears.

Denise calmly walked over, put her hand on the machine, and as the mouse struggled to get away, told me, “You can let him go.”

I did, and the mouse immediately ran up her arm, and then finally onto her shoulder.

“Nice catch, by the way,” she told me and began whispering to the mouse. The mouse actually chippered back, while she listened, and then began to pet him.

“Sorry Dodger. I don’t make the rules. I wish I did.”

“Dodger?”

“He dodged the Grinder, didn’t he?”

The mouse chippered back, and she listened again. She looked at me and had a couple tears.

“What’d he say?”

“He forgave us,” was all she said, and I almost started crying with her.

For the next hour, I dumped cages and watched them whisper back and forth to each other.

Finally, I had to ask, “You’re like a Mouse Whisperer, huh?”

Denise laughed, and it even looked like Dodger was laughing too.

“Most people get a cat or a dog for a pet, but I’ve always liked mice. I don’t know why. I just do. They’re so cute, but it’s like I don’t own them really, you know? Instead, it’s like they own me. Does that even make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” I said, and then asked, “So, what happens now?”

“We have to turn him in at our next break.”

“That’s only five minutes from now.”

“I know.”

“We could just let him go. I won’t say a fucking thing. I promise.”

“I believe you, but unfortunately, by this time tomorrow, they’ll know one mouse is missing.”

“He escaped, and we couldn’t find him?”

“Camera,” she said and pointed to one over the only door in and out of the Dark-Side.

I forgot about the cameras. They were in almost every room, except the hallways for some reason. “Shit! Do they also record audio?”

“Thankfully no, but the video is bad enough.”

“Damn!” I said, and then got an idea.

“Run! Run! Run!” I screamed at Dodger and also started waving my arms around.

That’s exactly what he did.

“What the...” Denise started to say, but I interrupted her.

“Unfortunately, Dodger escaped... too bad, but there he is. While you get him, I’ll get between you and the camera.”

I pushed the carts and racks around, pretending to look for the mouse. It’s not my fault they all happened to block the camera’s view.

Denise didn’t even hesitate. She grabbed Dodger and put him in her pocket.

“Let’s go,” she said, and we headed out the door.

On the way, we agreed to a plan. I would go see Sherrie and explain what happened, because Denise had to use the facilities. That would give her a chance to stash Dodger in her locker.

“What are you going to tell her?” Denise asked me.

“The truth.”

“The what?!”

“I was pissed because Dodger was gonna die, and I tend to get a little animated when that happens. That scared him, and that’s how he got away.”

“What about me?”

“What about you? It’s not your fault Dodger got away, and I really can’t swear that I actually saw what happened after that. Besides, I was too busy looking for him.”

“You’re crazy, but I like your kind of crazy. You saved Dodger’s life, you know.”

“Nope. As far as I know for sure, he’s still back there hiding.”

While Denise went to stash Dodger, I went in to see Sherrie. I told her what happened, and then got angry, but I didn’t want to go too overboard about it, just in case that made her suspicious.

She was telling me to calm down, when Denise joined us.

“I understand your anger, but it’s Company policy, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Somebody should,” I said.

“Bring it up at the next meeting,” Sherrie told me.

“What happens now?” Denise asked.

“After everyone leaves, we’ll lay traps, and then do a really thorough search,” she said, and then looked right at me, before adding, “Sometimes, they get away. It’s not unheard of, but most of the time, they don’t.”

I didn’t think of it, but I’m glad Denise did, “Won’t that contaminate everything, if you don’t find him? Won’t you have to shut everything down, because of it.”

“We could, but it’s not really necessary. The Independent Company, that certifies us, allows for something like this in their Mathematical Contamination Model.”

I had no idea what that meant, because all I really heard was that it wasn’t necessary, and I almost jumped out of my chair and started getting angry for real.

I think Denise saw it coming and tried to get it in first.

“If it’s not really necessary, then why the hell are you doing it?!” Denise said very loudly. I would’ve used a lot more profanity, but she was right.

“Since I’ve been here, over twenty years, two mice have totally vanished, and that’s been incorporated into the MCM, but if six mice disappeared like that all together, then it might be necessary to close this whole floor down until we found them, or de-contaminated everything again. Two or three over twenty years isn’t that big a deal.”

It was a big deal to the mice that died, but by then, I realized we had to get the hell out of there.

I could see Denise was gonna start yelling herself, and this time it was my turn to interrupt, “I understand,” I said and got up to leave.

“We’ll bring it up at the next meeting. Can you try and get someone from upstairs to be there? You know, someone who can actually change policy.”

“I’ll try,” Sherrie said.

“Thank you,” I replied and walked out. Denise was right behind me.

“Why didn’t you...?” she started, but I interrupted her again.

“I think she knows,” I whispered.

“What? How do you know?” she whispered back.

“I’m not sure. I just have this feeling, but I don’t want to talk about it here. Let’s wait until we get back to the Dark-Side.”

When we got back, Denise did the dumping, and I fed the Tunnel. For the first few minutes, we vented our anger. While we ranted, Denise banged the cages against the Grinder hard, and I slammed the cages against the conveyor belt that moved everything to the Clean-Side.

“You’re going to break the damn thing, Crim,” she said and laughed.

I laughed with her, and then we got down to the upcoming meeting. We figured the key would be finding homes for the mice that ended up on this side.

Denise could take some, but not a whole lot, because she lived in an apartment and had limited space.

I had five acres with a barn, and that meant I could take a lot of them myself, if not all of them.

We also agreed to contact local pet stores and schools, and anyone else we could think of, to see if any of them also wanted some free mice.

Most of them were skeptical, but by the time the meeting rolled around, we had a half-dozen names that were willing to work with us to get the job done. Even Barry promised to take a couple.

A Rep from upstairs was at the meeting and everything, and when our time came, we made the best case we could. The rep even promised to bring it up at the next Policy Meeting.

Sherrie even told us after he left, “I think you might have a good chance here,” but then told us two things that ruined every fucking thing.

The first was that employees, who were around the mice, couldn’t also have them as pets.

“There’s a chance that you could carry something in that could contaminate the other mice here.”

The second thing was that the next Policy Meeting wasn’t for another five years.

We had to wait five freakin’ years before they told us that all our ideas were unfeasible. No explanation or reason was given. Nothing, except to tell us that they considered the issue closed, so don’t bring it up again.

Over the next nine years, we ignored that part and tried to come up with another plan to save the mice, but nothing really happened until a little more than a year ago.

We couldn’t even save them ourselves, because after that pretend argument, we weren’t allowed to work together again. It was to avoid a similar occurrence in the future.

This place had so many stupid and unwritten rules, that I wasn’t surprised by this one, but one of them actually helped us out. We just didn’t know about it at the time.

Not too long after we started saving mice, Denise left. It was under very mysterious circumstances, and I was sad to see her go. She was definitely one of the good guys, and I’m glad she was still there when we finally figured it out.

Beth has met her, and they still talk on the phone every once in a while and end up laughing for hours about who the hell knows what.

Dodger’s doing fine, by the way.

Anyway, I was lucky that first time, but the second time, the Darkness hit me so hard, I couldn’t fucking believe it.

There was so much killing going on around there, and because none of it was bothering me, I thought that maybe I was immune, but that changed eight months later when it happened again.

My partner for that week was Chris, and I didn’t know him well enough to pull another stunt like the last time.

When they came to take the mouse away, I could feel the Darkness begin to come down on me. I knew that fucking video would soon follow, and I had to get the fuck out of there.

I gave Chris, and then Gannon, our lead at the time, sketchy details about a death in the family, and then just left.

Sometimes I had to drive home while that video kept looping over and over in my head, and sometimes, I couldn’t make it and had to pull over and knock myself out first.

That’s what happened the second time.

Thank God, that once I got home and knocked myself out, things went back to normal again, except for the depression. Those always lasted for more than a couple hours but going out to look for hurt animals always seemed to help a little.

Now, I had Beth at home. If she wasn’t out on one of her calls, she’d come get me, and sometimes, just being with her was enough, and I’d be able to go back to work.

That all changed just before Denise left.

My partner on the Dark-Side was on a bathroom break, and that’s when they came to take the cage away. It was just a tiny pup, and after they left, the Darkness hit me faster and harder than it ever had.

Alicia was on one of her room checks and caught me banging my head against the cement wall.

She didn’t even care that, once she entered the Dark-Side, she’d have to shower and change. She immediately ran over and tried to stop me.

Before I could even stop myself, I banged my head and her hand against the wall, real hard, and she screamed.

The video stopped, and the Darkness immediately went away. Like it was trying to tell me that hurting someone else, instead of me, would stop all this, and make it all go away.

I knew I’d never do anything like that just to stop the video. At least while I was in my right mind anyway, but what if somehow my mind flipped, and I didn’t have control anymore?

What if I went after Beth?

And that’s what really scared me about what happened with Alicia, and that meant I had to always keep control. Always.

Not being able to stop my impulses didn’t help, but thank God, those didn’t last for more than a few seconds anyway, and besides, sometimes they were useful, like when they helped us save Dodger.

“Shit! Shit! I’m sorry, I’m sorry Allie. Shit! I’m so sorry, but I gotta leave. Are you ok?” finally asking her like an idiot.

Even though the video and Darkness were gone, I figured it’d probably be a good idea to go home anyway, just in case it was a trick.

“I’ll live, but we gotta talk,” she said while rubbing her hand, and then offered to drive me home, after I told her again that I had to leave.

On the way, I had no idea where to begin, because like I said earlier, I don’t just tell anybody anymore about what I did.

We did decide though, after riding along in silence for a while, that Alicia and her husband would come over that Sunday, and we’d talk about it then.

They did, and we broke bread with them. It was fun. Beth loved them both, and I had to admit, Alicia’s husband, Rupe, was a pretty cool dude.

Later in private, while Rupe and Beth talked football, I explained to Alicia about some of it, and she told me, “I understand Crim. I don’t like what’s going on there either. Obviously, not as much as you do, but I do understand.”

“I just wish...” and that’s when I got an interesting thought, “You’ve heard of the five-second rule, right?”

“Five-second rule?” She asked and looked down at the floor for a couple seconds, and then asked, “You’re not talking about when food falls to the floor, are you?”

“I mean, think about it Allie, how can anything become that contaminated, that fast? I know the five second rule is considered an urban myth...” I started to say.

Alicia was shaking her head, “No, I actually read a scientific paper on that very thing, not too long ago. Experiments were even done. It took way longer than five seconds before the food could actually be considered contaminated.”

“Exactly, so, why can’t we think the same way about the mice that ended up on the Dark-Side?” I asked her.

“What do you mean?”

“What if we worked with the Techs to double-check the racks before they were pushed all the way into the room?

“I mean, really, if contamination was that freakin’ instantaneous, why are we only spraying everything down once a month, instead of every freakin’ minute of the day?”

“I think I’m going to talk to Elle and see what she thinks. Personally, I think it’s a good idea. I see no problem with it, except if anyone from that independent company sees us doing it, we might lose our A plus certification, and that’s one thing we’ve got to avoid at all cost.

“Those are scheduled, though, so they shouldn’t be that hard to work around.”

The next day, I told Denise about what had happened, and she hugged me.

“You did it,” she said and hugged me again.

Alicia was over in the corner talking to Elle, the Tech lead, and they were both nodding their heads. Alicia gave us a thumbs up.

“No, we did it. Operation Fuck You, is now fully operational, and you were a big-time part of that. Alicia is rallying the troops as we speak,” I said and pointed her way.

“Even the common folk are with us.”

“The evil overlords are next,” Denise said, and we both knocked knuckles.

Before she left town, we did find out that the zero-tolerance contamination rule did have one exception that no one knew about, because it wasn’t reflected in the rules. That’s so the rules committee or that independent company wouldn’t know about it.

It was considered one of those infamous unwritten rules that no one bothered to tell any of us about, and thirty mice were fucking killed for no fucking reason because of it.

When I heard about it, I almost started yelling again. I do that a lot, but this time I realized that it’d be stupid and figured the better solution would be to channel all that anger into, what we were now calling OFU, or Operation Fuck You.

After talking to Denise, I even talked with Sherrie about it, and she agreed privately that the five-second rule made way more sense, than killing the mice did.

After we went into one of the rooms that didn’t have a camera, she told me, “I have no problem with you doing it, except if you get caught Crim, I won’t be the one firing you. As far as I’m concerned, this whole conversation never happened.”

I thought about that for a second, “What conversation?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” and I went back to work.

As soon as one dirty cage, or a rack full of them was pushed into the Dark-Side, I’d almost run to check it out, before the Tech left the room.

They’d actually wait for me, before going back to do more change-outs.

Every one of them understood, because every single Tech there was awesome. This was not just a job to them either, because they also cared about the mice.

If I found one, they’d almost run to get a clean cage from the Clean-Side. I’d change into new gloves and transfer the mouse into it.

They’d apologize and thank me for double-checking, even though it meant, that I’d caught them in a mistake.

They weren’t like that, and it didn’t even matter that they’d now have to go and figure out which cage the mouse was originally from. None of them seemed to care about that at all.

One of the Techs told me that it didn’t take that long anyway, because where I’d found the mouse was all they needed to know.

Elle even told me a few months later, “We can go faster, because now we don’t have to worry so much about missing one. Hopefully, we don’t start getting sloppy, but if you notice that happening, can you give me a heads up?”

“No problem,” I told her, and then added, “So far, from my end, it’s about the same as before. Maybe one or two more than usual, but that’s manageable, right?”

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely manageable,” she said.

Like I said, the Techs there were awesome.

I think maybe Alicia also talked to them about it, because they started giving me even more pitiful looks than before this whole head banging business happened.

I never asked her about it, and not because I didn’t care, but because I really didn’t want to know. But also, because their sympathy helped my stories sound more believable.

I don’t know why it worked that way, but I took full advantage of it, and that Secret Room was my target.

I know it’s mean, and that I’m a low life scum for doing it, but I figured that it might get someone talking, just to shut me up.

That’s one of the reasons why, even as sick as it was, I still did it.

And that brings us to the Secret Room.

The Secret Room wasn’t secret because it was hidden. Everyone knew exactly where it was. The door to get into it was inside another room that everyone called the Outer Office. I called it the Oh Oh Room.

Very few people had access to the Oh Oh Room. Even our Supervisor couldn’t get in there, until a year ago.

You could see inside through a small window, but you really couldn’t see much. The door to the Secret Room was at an angle to it, and the blinds were usually closed anyway.

The major reason it was called the Secret Room was because no one knew what went on in there.

Even Sherrie was clueless, and that just added fire to the rumour mill.

I helped to fuel that fire big time, and that all started about a year ago.

At the end of one of our weekly meetings, Sherrie asked for a volunteer to clean Room 334, and I raised my hand immediately.

One of our duties, before we did anything else, was to clean six different Surgical Rooms and two offices. They were scattered all around the place, and my room was one of the Surgical ones.

Taking on the Oh Oh Room would give me two rooms to clean, but I didn’t care. This was my chance to crack the Case of the Secret Room, and I was gonna go for it.

I knew that room 344 was the Oh Oh Room, but for some reason, no one else did, and since no one else raised their hand, I got the job.

After the meeting, I also got a quick tour.

Since I was working on the Clean-Side, I didn’t have to shower or change scrubs before, because when we worked there, we could go anywhere in the Vivarium, except for the Dark-Side.

Once we went in there, like Denise explained earlier, we were considered contaminated and couldn’t go anywhere else. It’s why we did our rooms first before our regular duties.

On the way, Sherrie told me, “You need a whole different badge to get in there, and I didn’t get mine until a little while ago. I won’t get yours until after lunch. Stop by before you leave tonight, and I’ll give it to you.”

Once we were inside, she explained my duties, and where I could find the frozen mice. I half listened to her, as I was more interested in the door to the Secret Room.

Not only did you need a badge, but it also had something else, that I’d never seen before, except in the movies.

“Is that what I think it is?” I asked and pointed to the two keyholes that were about eight feet apart and four feet off the floor. In the middle was the door to the Secret Room.

“Yup,” my supervisor answered. “Not only do you need a badge, but you also need two people to turn their keys at the exact same time. After that, you had three seconds before the door locked again.”

After explaining that, she pointed to a handwritten note that was taped to the door.

In big block letters, it read, “YOU WILL BE FIRED IF YOU LET ANYONE IN THIS ROOM OTHER THAN THE EIGHT PEOPLE PICTURED BELOW:”

Right below it was a set of eight photos. None of them even looked vaguely familiar. The eighth picture was of a One-Star Army General.

Sherrie tapped the note and said, “This is no joke. You will be fired.”

I almost started arguing, but then decided against it. It’d be a waste of time, because she’d get mad, and then I’d lose my chance to crack the case.

On our way back to the Clean-Side, she did tell me that, “those two locks weren’t there a couple months ago. I was told about them, but never actually saw them until today when I got my first tour.”

Later, while unloading the Tunnel, I thought about that room again.

Maybe they were just doing regular research like a lot of the other labs, but then why weren’t we allowed to do a weekly change-out?

They either washed their own cages, or it didn’t involve mice at all.

“What do you think’s going on in there?” I asked Alicia, after explaining the locking system. “I mean, that locking system certainly doesn’t look like it’s regular research.”

“I really don’t know,” she said, and then added, “but I’ve heard a lot of rumours.”

She told me some, and most of those were about genetics. That made sense, especially since genetics was such a big deal here.

How big a deal? Alicia once told me that a genetically modified mouse cost anywhere from a hundred dollars to thousands of dollars apiece.

Thousands of dollars for a mouse! Wow! And some of our customers bought hundreds at a time, sometimes thousands, and that just wowed me again. If mice were going for thousands of dollars a pop, I could just imagine what was going on in that Secret Room, especially since the military was involved.

Volunteering to clean the Oh Oh Room seemed like the perfect plan, until it didn’t work.

For a year it didn’t work, and the only thing I learned was that every other month, the eighth picture switched back and forth from that One-Star General to a younger woman wearing Captain’s bars.

Out of all of them, she was the only one smiling.

Anyway, all I had to do every morning was empty two garbage cans, replace the bags, and make sure there was enough toilet paper in the bathroom. That was pretty much it, except for the freezer. That was in the bathroom, and it’s where the frozen mice were stored.

Once mice were euthanized, they were put into one of seven freezers. Those were located in different places around the Vivarium, including the Oh Oh Room and the other room I cleaned.

Every Thursday, everyone had to bring them down to Shipping and Receiving. Someone would unlock a door for us, and then we’d put them in two big freezers that were located way in the back, in another smaller room.

Someone from Shipping and Receiving told me that a guy from the next state would come pick them up, but that’s all he knew.

No one else knew anything either, except Sherrie. She told me they were driven all the way up to an Experimental Research Facility up in Alaska.

“Now a days, recycling research is big business,” she explained, “and some of the work is really promising, like the future of electricity, housing, transportation, food and even space travel.”

That did sound promising, but after a couple months, I started getting tired of people asking if I’d seen anything yet and started making stuff up.

I know it’s sick and mean, but my stories and jokes also helped to channel my fantasies away from actually doing them. Like I was pretending to brainstorm a comic book idea out loud, instead of just in my head.

When people laughed or were scared by them, it helped me deal with this overwhelming need to do it again, and like my pretend comic book idea, it also helped not make it so overwhelming, and also might upset the right people.

Unfortunately, it upset the wrong person.

This morning, while on my way to clean that room, Alicia caught up with me, grabbed my sleeve, and almost literally dragged me down the hall.

She wanted to talk to me, in private, and in the Oh Oh Room. I almost had to run to keep up with her, but once we got close, she slowed down a little.

“You know, the one you keep telling everyone is really the ‘Entrance to Hell’!” she said, using air quotes.

“I think that’s way better than the ‘Outer Office’,” I said, also using air quotes.

Once I got us inside, she got right down to business, after noticing the coffee machine, getting some, and sitting down to take a sip. “Now this is coffee,” she sighed.

“It’s good huh? Lots better than that crap we got. That doesn’t even taste like coffee,” I ranted.

Alicia let me go on and on for a few seconds, took another sip, and then stopped me cold.

“Cut the crap Criminal. What the hell have you been telling people about that room?” she said, pointing to the Entrance to Hell.

“About what?” I asked innocently.

“Don’t smart-ass me on this one, Crim. I just want to know? I just want to be able to separate the rumours from your crap. I know this room has a lot of them flying around about it,” she started to say, but I interrupted her.

“Like flies around a dead body?” I said and tried to cackle evilly but failed miserably.

“Please, Crim,” she pleaded. “I’ve been to your farm and broken bread with you and Beth. I love you guys. Now cut the crap and give me the real deal. Please!”

“I’ve told people a lot of stuff,” I said honestly. “Tell me what you’ve heard, and I’ll either deny it or confirm it. Fair enough?”

She then recited a long list of some of the crazier things I’d told people.

“I can’t deny any of ‘em.”

She sighed, and then told me that her personal favorite was, “the one about the glowing blood that seeped out from under that door and took you hours to mop-up.”

“Don’t forget that it also chased me around the room.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that part.”

“How could you forget about glowing blood chasing me around the room?!” I said and laughed.

“Jeez Crim, with all that other crap you’ve been telling people, that seemed like a minor detail.”

All that other crap included things like pulsating lights, blood curdling screams, things shackled to the wall, and the sound of a chainsaw cutting through meat until the screaming stopped.

I told her that my personal favorite was instead of a lab, it was really just an elevator that took you down five-hundred feet to the real one.

That’s where the genetics got really crazy and grafting humans with animals was my main focus. It’s why I called both rooms the Entrance to Hell.

She laughed, and also told me about the fish that needed human brains to grow and stay smart, and the hundreds of variations on that one alone, with everyone adding their own little twist.

The high employee turn-over was the only proof that anyone had, but it helped to make the meat-eating fish stories almost feasible.

Even a meat-eating plant would’ve worked here, but I don’t do that one. Why should I mess with something that’s already been done to perfection?

“Not to mention,” she continued, “the smell of cooking flesh and barbeque sauce delivered in fifty-five-gallon drums, right along with cases and cases of hacksaw blades.”

“I’m not sure, but I think that barbeque sauce might’ve really been blood.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was,” she said, and then added, “but that’s not the only reason I dragged you in here.”

“What? What’d I do now?”

She came over and gave me a hug.

“That’s for saving those bunnies.”

“What the hell’s this one for?” I asked, while she was giving me another one.

“That one’s for Beth, and I’d appreciate it if you gave it to her tonight,” she said.

I must’ve looked confused, because she added, “She called me Monday and told me about Fishy.”

Then, she hit me in the shoulder, “You almost went to jail, you goof. How my supposed to get anything done around here, while you’re in jail? You’re my best worker.”

“Yeah, you’re a liar, but thanks anyway” I said, and then told her about what happened at the DA’s office, but then changed the subject.

“How were you able to get me four days off? I thought I needed thirty days’ notice first?”

“Anything less than a week, Sherrie can override it, and that’s how you got four days off,” she said, and then quickly changed the subject by pointing to the Entrance to Hell.

“The only thing you’re missing is Bigfoot and a dissected alien,” she said and smiled innocently.

Something didn’t sound right. She was hiding something, but I went along with the joke for a minute, “Haven’t you heard? There are some people who think Bigfoot is really an alien from outer space.”

“Since when?”

“Since I watched this documentary last night, and guess what?” I said, lowering my voice so Alicia had to lean in a little closer.

She did and also asked in a whisper, “What?”

“You told Sherrie about what happened, didn’t you?”

“Well...”

“You want me to believe, that Sherrie gave me four days off and didn’t even ask why.”

“Well...”

“You just walked into her office, demanded I get four days, and she just gave them to me.”

“Ok, ok, I told her about what happened, but I didn’t tell anyone else, and it’s been hard. Besides, you know Sherrie can keep a secret.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, because I did know.

When I first started here, we used to meet in her office at least once a month to discuss my profanity and inability to follow proper procedure.

Those meetings almost always ended with me screaming and yelling profanities about some of the idiots that ran things upstairs, the food-chain people.

She never told any of those idiots what I said, because if she had, I wouldn’t still be working here.

“I really appreciate that you haven’t told anyone else, but please, you have no idea how much I don’t want or need the publicity.”

“Ok, I don’t understand why, because most people would love the limelight, but I promise not to tell anyone else.”

“Thank you,” I said, and then pointed to the Entrance to hell, “and since you’re being so nice, I want you to be the first to hear about the head I saw in there. It looked just like Bigfoot, except it had big buggy eyes like an alien.”

She looked at me for a second, and then laughed.

“I’m getting the hell out of here before either this room or you drive me crazy,” she said, and then walked out the door, saying something about Beth, that I didn’t totally catch.

I grabbed the two garbage bags and dropped them off on the Dark-Side. That’s where I was assigned to work, but first, I had to go clean my second room, the Surgical one.

If you want to know how boring the rest of the day was, just read this entry over and over until it puts you to sleep. That’s how boring it was, and the only thing left to say is...

Congratulations! You made it through all the boring shit, and now it’s time for something so fucking unbelievable, that even I couldn’t believe it, and I saw it happen right in front of me!

CHAPTER 4

Thursday, October 23rd (dictated 7:16 pm, Oct 29).

While getting the frozen mice together, I noticed something was off with one of the bags.

“That’s a lot of fucking blood!” I said to myself, or at least, I thought I did.

“Disgusting, isn’t it? I heard the whole fucking thing and couldn’t do a thing about it. Humans fucking suck! You fucking suck!”

I could’ve sworn that I was alone and looked around the Oh Oh Room. “Who said that?”

“I did, and you’re ugly too!”

It sounded like it was coming from behind that vent. “Yeah well, you’re even uglier,” I said lamely, and then saw something move behind it.

I pushed one of the desks closer to the wall, and then jumped up to get a better look. There was some light streaming in from the other end, the Secret Room, but most of it was blocked by something on this end.

It looked like something was pushing, or being pushed, against it, like... and I know this sounds crazy, but the impression I got was something fuzzy, like a Teddy Bear.

Teddy was as good a name as any, I thought, and tried to look behind it, but couldn’t really see a whole lot. It was just too big. It almost blocked the whole vent.

“Maybe, but you still suck.”

“Come on man, quit fucking with me, ok? I’m ugly, you’re ugly. I suck, you suck. Who the fuck cares,” I screamed into the vent.

“No need to fucking yell,” Teddy screamed back, “I’m right fucking here!”

I pushed back from the vent a little, “Sorry.”

"It's ok," Teddy said, "but do you remember that old documentary about the talking horse?”

Documentary? I thought, but then made a weird connection.

“You don’t mean that TV show, Mr. Ed?” I answered hesitantly.

“Hit that one right on the head, but do you know why they picked the person to be Wilbur, the only human the horse would talk to?”

“I have no... hey, who are you anyway and where are you exactly?” I asked, and then added, “Are you in that room right now?”

“Just think about that question tonight, and I’ll tell you the answer tomorrow. Right now, I’ve gotta close up shop before the day-people get here, Frankenstein and his two evil assistants.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked and looked inside the vent. I could see something moving, and then the sound of a grate closing on the other end. After that, I couldn’t see a thing.

After a couple minutes of trying to get a better look, I gave up. I pushed the desk back and went to the Surgical Room. I did a quick clean-up, grabbed the frozen mice, and then headed to Shipping and Receiving.

On my way, I thought about that voice again. Maybe, it was someone holding a smart-phone or tablet into the vent.

I replayed that part again, but still couldn’t see anything behind it. It was obviously something that could move on its own and also smaller than the vent, but I also noticed something else.

In my peripheral vision, it looked like Teddy’s eyes were glowing. Like it was some kind of robot, or an alien, or maybe an alien robot! Shit, with the military involved, that sure sounded feasible.

That possibility got my imagination going big time, and I totally forgot about the bloody bag.

It’s not an excuse, I know, but it also didn’t help that the Dirty-Side was packed, wall to wall, with racks and racks of dirty cages.

We had until noon to catch up before more dirty cages would start coming in like herds of cattle, and even though I was busy, Teddy was still on my mind the whole time.

By lunch, we had it all under control. Unfortunately, that’s also when I remembered the bloody bag, but as soon as I saw Alicia, I told her all about it.

I wanted to go down and find it, but she told me, “It won’t do you any good, because they’re already gone, but I’ll look into it Crim. I promise.”

“I know you will Allie,” I told her, and I knew she would.

I also remembered Teddy’s question and asked her about that. She puckered her lips, “I do remember the show about the talking horse, but what brought that up?”

I almost told her about Teddy, but after all that crap I told her yesterday, she probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.

“Oh, you know how my mind works. I was wondering what mice would say if they could talk. What if all the animals in the world can talk, but they only do it to a select few, and then I wondered what the criteria for that was? That led me to Denise. You remember Denise, right? That led me to the TV show, and well, here we are wondering about it.”

“I remember Denise, and now you got me wondering too. You should look it up. You’re good at that stuff.”

Computers and smart-phones mystified the shit out of me, but search engines... that was my forte, and I got right on it. It only took me a couple minutes before finding three possibles.

The most logical one was that the actor looked like someone a horse would talk to, and that’s the impression I also got, but then I had to wonder, what the hell did Teddy mean by that?

When I got home that night, I told Beth everything, and then asked her, “What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know hon. Maybe, it means the voice is coming from a horse?”

“It’d have to be a lot smaller than a horse to fit inside that vent.”

“Maybe it’s a tiny-little horse,” She said, showed me how small, and then started laughing.

Picturing a tiny-little talking horse in my head got me laughing right along with her.

When she finally caught her breath, she added, “Maybe it’s a talking teddy bear,” and that just got us going again.

CHAPTER 5

Friday, October 24th (dictated 7:21 pm, Oct 29).

“So early...” Beth said and clicked the light on. She blinked her eyes and smiled. “What’s up, butter cup?”

We were still sleeping in the tent, and her hair was all over the place, but that smile. OH, MY FUCKING GOD!! I couldn’t stop staring at her. After looking stupid for a few seconds, I rewound to when the lights went on.

“Is that the best you can do, butter cup?”

“What? You don’t like it?” she said and grabbed her bathrobe. “Not that I care, but if you wait a minute, I’ll make us some coffee, and we can debate... What? What the hell’s wrong now?” she said, and then tried to straighten her hair, like that was the problem.

Everything about her was the problem.

“Sorry, babe. You just... I was just thinking of that song again.”

“What song?”

“Why do you always ask that? It’s not like I’m gonna give you a different answer. It’s that same one, with that same girl. The one that doesn’t know she’s beautiful.”

“I like that song too,” she said.

I could see another smile coming, and I had to get the hell out of there before that happened.

“You don’t have to get up baby doll. I’ll get some coffee on the way in,” I said, and then gave her a kiss. “Late night, last night?”

Beth fell back on the pillow. “Baby doll?”

“Tryin’ it out. Whadya think?”

“I think... I think, I’m gonna go back to sleep,” she said, and then buried her head under the pillow.

“Barry called me about two in the morning. Don’t worry. It was a happy ending,” she said in a muffled voice. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Can’t wait,” I said and helped her to cover up. She grabbed my pillow and snuggled up with it.

Before gettin’ the hell out of there, I gave her another kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you even more, Jackaroonie.”

“Jackaroonie?”

“Just tryin’ it out. Whadya think?”

“I agree. You need to sleep,” I answered, and then was gone.

As soon as I got to work and put on my scrubs, I immediately went to the Oh Oh Room.

After taking care of the garbage, I sat down to wait. I looked at the clock and put my feet up on one of the desks. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to wait long.

I thought about that bloody bag from yesterday again.

Most people wouldn’t recognize it as such, but to me, it was an obvious sign of torture.

This wasn’t speculation on my part. It was a fact.

When I did some college, I not only learned a few things about psychology, but also a couple things about biology.

Once a mouse is euthanized, the heart stops, and that means there’s nothing to pump the blood around the body.

When the mouse is cut into after being euthanized, there should be very little blood. All that blood from yesterday proved that the mouse was cut into before it was euthanized.

When it could still feel pain, and in my mind, that’s fucking torture.

That brought me back to the present, and that’s when I saw a shadow move behind the vent again.

“Did you tell anyone about that bloody bag?” the same voice from yesterday asked.

“I told my lead.”

“Lead?”

“I guess lead is short for group leader.”

“Ok, so what’d he do?”

“That he is a she, and she told me, that she’d look into it.”

“That’s it, just look into it? What does that even mean?”

“That’s all I know, but I do have an answer to your question.”

“What question?”

“The question about the talking horse.”

“Oh, that stupid question. Ok, what’d you find out? I’m sure you looked it up on the internet, got the answer, and are all so proud of how brilliant you are,” the voice from behind the vent said in a bored voice, “but since you went through all that trouble, feel free to bore me with it anyway.”

That burst my bubble a little, but not enough to stop me.

“The reason they picked the actor was because he looked like someone a horse would talk to.”

Instead of clapping its hands, Teddy said the words instead, “Clap, clap, clap, bravo, well done and all that other stupid human shit you say to each other, when you’re pretending that you really care about each other,” Teddy said, and then added, “Which you don’t, by the way.”

“Who are you?” I had to ask, “And, please don’t tell me you’re a tiny-little talking horse.”

I heard a chuckle and the shadow pantomiming like it was looking at a watch on its wrist.

“Ok, I can give you fifteen minutes, but then I got to get back in here and straighten things out, before Frankenstein and his evil assistants come in for the day.

“Five minutes will be wasted while you recover from the shock.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, I’ll have to show you, because otherwise, you won’t believe me. Could you do me a favor and close the blinds, please?”

“Show me what?” I asked while taking care of that, and I could hear something small jumping onto something like a table, and then to the floor.

I got back in the chair, and a half minute later, the door, that needed two people to open, opened. That was supposed to be impossible, I thought, as I waited for someone, or something to walk out.

It was a good thing I was sitting down, because after two full seconds, a black Cat jumped onto the desk, and looked right at me.

“Hello Wilburrr,” it said in a really cheap imitation of Mr. Ed.

Even though I was in a chair, sitting down, I still fell to the floor, but I never took my eyes off that mouth and jaw.

“What the fuck!?” I said from the floor.

You could actual see them move like no cat I’d ever seen do, and believe me, I’ve seen a lot of cats. I have around a dozen on my farm right now.

I’m not a veterinarian, but one thing I did know was that cats did not move their mouth and jaws like that. It was creepy and even a little scary, and what the hell was going on here?

If I was starting down the road to Crazyville, then this was just an illusion that I was creating to help me along the way, and that meant the Cat was really me, talking to me.

Maybe, all I had to do was trip myself up.

So, I got back in the chair and asked the Cat, or myself, “What happened to you?”

“Genetics happened,” and I could see its fucking tongue moving around inside its mouth, helping to form the sounds to each word. If this was an illusion, I was putting on one hell of a show for myself.

The Cat continued, “You’re probably thinking that this is all some kind of hocus-pocus, and that you’re really talking to yourself. Don’t you?”

That was an odd question to be asking myself, I thought, and then asked it out loud, “That’s an odd question?”

“Not really. If I was you, I’d already know the answer and wouldn’t need to ask myself, but there might be one way to prove I’m not your imagination. It might not be absolute proof, but it’s the best I can do while I’m stuck in here. Unless, you wanna take a picture of me?” the Cat asked, and then smiled.

It was a really creepy smile.

I cringed and said, “No thanks, they won’t let us bring our phones in here, but let’s see what else you got?” I asked and went dumbfounded again, as the Cat pulled out a smart-phone and used it to look something up.

“I just sent you a short documentary anyway,” the Cat told me, and then added, “At this very minute, your credit-rating is 737 points. The last time you looked it up, it was... eleven points lower.”

She put the smart-phone away, and then asked, “Now, if I’m you, then how do I know that?”

That was a really good question. Maybe I was taking a lucky guess, or sleep walking and that’s when I looked it up. Even that one sounded outrageous to me, but then again, how outrageous is a talking Cat, huh?

Or maybe, I really wasn’t going crazy or hallucinating after all.

Regardless, one thing was certain. My credit score was not absolute proof, just merely a partial proof, and I still had to check that out on my next break.

Absolute proof would only come when someone else also saw this Cat talk, and not on a video either.

That’s when the Cat played right into my hands and started talking about needing my help to escape from here. I quickly agreed.

“Halloween night,” I told the Cat and then wondered, “I know this may sound like a stupid question, but do you have a name?”

“My name’s AmyStrange, all one word, with a capital ‘A’ and ‘S’, but you can call me just Amy if you want,” She said and then asked, “Halloween night? That’s three weeks from now. Why such a long time? Why can’t you do it tonight?”

“Why don’t you just walk out of here or ask one of those people to just let you go,” I asked while pointing to the pictures on the door.

“Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen. I’d be dead before the day was done.”

“What? I don’t believe it.”

“Why do you think that bag yesterday was so bloody? Why do you think I call the day-people Frankenstein and his two evil assistants? Why do you think I’m willing to pay you one hundred thousand dollars to get me out of here before the end of next week, and also hide me out?

“Think about that tonight, and we’ll talk more about it tomorrow,” she said and jumped off the desk, and then went through the open door. I then heard a soft hum as the door closed.

That’s when I realized, “Tomorrow’s Saturday. I won’t be here,” and then remembered the second thing, “One hundred thousand dollars!” I screamed in the general direction of the vent.

Except for the sound of metal grating against metal, all I heard back was, “Just think about it. I’ll talk with you again on Monday, instead of tomorrow.”

I looked at the clock on the wall. My time to clean the room was almost up. I immediately left and walked quickly over to my second room.

While on the way, I also remembered that Halloween wasn’t three weeks away, but next Friday.

While working nonstop loading the Tunnel and Cart-Washer, I kept thinking about that one hundred thousand dollars, and after almost two hours, I still couldn’t believe it.

Where the hell was a Cat gonna get a hundred grand? And then, I remembered the smart-phone that the Cat, AmyStrange, had used to check my credit score. That was definitely one hell of an illusion that I was creating for myself, if that’s what it was.

As soon as our break started, I almost ran to the breakroom. I used one of the computers there to double-check my credit score, and it was exactly at 737.

It wasn’t absolute proof, but it certainly did help make the case that this Cat, AmyStrange, or Amy, might not be an illusion, and she really can talk.

It also meant, that I might not be going crazy after all.

I also watched the short video, and it looked real enough, but that was the problem. It looked too real, like it was done on a good movie editing program, but I also knew that I didn’t do it.

I can open a browser, type a simple webpage, use e-mail and this dictating program, but use one that edited videos? I had no idea how to even get one, never mind creating something like this.

It had to be real, but no one else is gonna believe it, and that includes me, because I’m still having a really hard time swallowing the idea that this Cat can talk.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast, because all I could think about was how crazy genetics was, and was it even possible to manipulate it enough to create a talking Cat?

This coming Monday was going to be very, very interesting, but first, I had to make it through the weekend.

CHAPTER 6

Saturday, October 25th (dictated 7:46 pm, Oct 29).

The weekend went by pretty fast, and I was glad.

That just sounds so wrong, but I don't care.

I told Beth almost everything, and she didn't believe it either, even after I showed her the video.

“I don't believe it. A talking Cat, Crim? I love you and all that, but I just can’t... Oh, what the hell. I believe it, because you believe it. But I’m sorry, I still gotta see this talking Cat right here in front of me, and not on some obviously fake video either.”

“Don't be sorry babe. I don't believe it either, and I've already seen her talk right in front of me. That's why this Halloween’s so damn important.”

“Why? What's gonna happen then?”

That's when I told her about the Cat wanting to escape, and especially the one hundred thousand dollars.

“One hundred thousand dollars!” She almost shouted, but then thought about it, just like I did, but came up with it faster than I did, “Where the hell is a Cat gonna get a hundred grand?”

“That's exactly the same thing I thought,” I told her, “including the 'hell' part.”

“Why doesn’t she just buy her way out, or walk out of there on her own?”

“I’m not really sure,” I said, and then told her about the bloody bag, and also about Frankenstein and his two evil assistants.

That last part got me skeptical again, but that smart-phone, the credit score, and how it looked so real when she talked, especially on that video, and I didn’t know what to think anymore.

Plus, I don’t know why Beth thought it was fake. I know I didn’t fake it but arguing about it would be a total waste of time. Nothing’s gonna convince her anyway, until she actually sees the Cat talking right in front of her, just like she said.

As a matter of fact, that’s when I’ll also be convinced.

I made sure not to tell her anything about the Cat until after Johnson’s visit, Saturday afternoon.

Johnson? I’m also having a problem trying to figure out what to call the guy, Johnson or Randy. It’s not that big a deal, but keep it in mind, in case I switch them around.

Confidentially, I like Randy better than that old stuffy Johnson guy.

Anyway, I didn't think it’d be a good idea to let my probation officer think I was crazy, or even just leaning in that direction.

Beth probably wouldn't let anything slip, but why even take the smallest chance, when I didn't have to.

It was really hard to keep out of our conversations, especially Friday night. That’s when Beth and I went on our first Halloween patrol of the year.

This year, we did the first two days alone, because my secret friends wouldn't be joining us until Sunday night. Not that Beth would notice the difference.

I still had to do an online check, but thankfully, Friday night itself was quiet. Neither of us ran across anything out of the ordinary, and that’s always a good thing.

Now I had to get through Saturday, and thankfully Randy called early to tell me he'd be over by around two. He asked if it’d be ok if his family came along.

I asked Beth, and she was fine with it. I thought that's what he was going to do anyway, but obviously I was wrong.

“I can't wait,” I told him, and we clicked off.

It was a little past two when he finally got here, bringing his wife, Wendy, and their two girls, Mary and Chrissy.

Beth gave them the tour, and the girls loved it, especially when they got to the bunnies. While giving the tour, she always added little stories about how some of our babies got here.

Wendy couldn't stop smiling the whole time, “This is such a beautiful thing you're doing here.”

“It is,” Beth said and grabbed me by the arm, trying to pull me closer.

Randy was busy taking pictures, “for the DA,” he told me, but his eyes really lit up when we got to the bunnies. He saw how happy they were, and best of all, how much his girls loved them.

Randy insisted on cooking the hamburgers with what he called, “Wendy's secret barbeque sauce, or as I like to call it, Wendy's Secret BS.”

Everybody laughed, even Wendy and the two girls.

The burgers were freakin' out of this world.

Let me put it this way, Beth had three, and I had four.

Were we just being polite? Beth might be, but I know I wasn't.

Beth said it best as we were cleaning up after dinner, “You can call them BS if you want Randy, but those were the real deal Wendy. I could eat that BS for a year, and never get tired of it.”

Well, I don't know about that year thing, but they were fucking good.

“I could go two years,” I lied.

After we finished cleaning up, Wendy and the girls went back out to play with the bunnies. Beth went along to show them where everything was, and then promised to come right back.

Randy and I sat at the kitchen table talking aimlessly for a few minutes, and then we got down to business.

“Let’s make this an informal-formal kind of thing, ok? Just call me every once in a while, at least once a week. Let me know what's going on, and even stop in and say hi if you want, but if anything important comes up, make sure you give me a call as soon as you can.

“Now, how’s that sound?”

“I can do that,” I said, and then remembered, “I can't thank you enough for your help Monday, but God damn it Randy! I'm still pissed off at you, man, and what in hell did you mean that you were the one taking chances? What the hell!”

“I knew he'd survive,” Beth said to Randy, as she joined us again.

“I've never seen it before. I've heard of it, but never seen it,” Randy told Beth, ignoring me, “until I met you guys. I don't know, there's something that animals get and they, they trust you both, especially you,” he said, still talking to Beth.

“But, he shouldn't have it at all, especially after what he did,” Beth said, like I wasn't there either. “If I hadn't been in love with him when he first told me, and saw what he was trying to do here, I really seriously thought about shooting him, but you want to know what's really weird?”

“Everything about this guy is weird, and I don't know if you can top that bridge thing but go ahead and give it your best shot.”

“You say there's something between us that the animals trust, but I think it’s more than just trust,” Beth said with a kind of sad smile.

“I think it’s love, but a weird kind of love, ya know?

“I don’t think any of our babies have ever felt loved before, and it simply overwhelms them.

“It puts them in a... It’s hard to explain, but I haven't seen one dog chase a cat, or bark, or a cat hiss, and they all freakin' sleep together in the same place for Christ sake. All mixed up together, cats sleeping with their heads on the stomach of dogs. Even the new ones do it.

“I've never seen anything like it, and I've been around cats and dogs since... forever.”

“It's not that weird,” I said defensively, but in the back of my mind, I knew that it was weird. I just didn't want to think about why it was weird, or talk about it, or examine it in any way, just in case that made it all disappear.

I wasn't gonna get my way today.

“It is weird, hon,” Beth said to me, and then to Randy, “Every Christmas we always bring them into the house, except for the horses, of course.”

The theme song from Mr. Ed began running through my head, the Christmas Version, I think. Hmm, do they even have a Christmas Version?

“They weren’t here that first year, but the next Christmas Eve, we sang Christmas Carols and also slept with them later,” Beth said, and then smiled, “Out in the stall, not the house.

“All our babies would join us when we sang to the horses, and then we’d bring them into the house. All our cats, dogs, pigs and one snake, all stayed in this one room listening to him recite The Night Before Christmas. Most of them fell asleep, but I think he does a pretty damn good job.”

“A snake? You’ve also got a snake?!” Randy asked in astonishment.

“Yup. Fangs. He didn’t show up until later, but I couldn’t believe it,” Beth continued, “because all he did was just slither around for a while, until he got bored, and then went upstairs. Crim found him in the bathtub.

“If it was just the older ones, then I could see it, maybe, but even the new ones don’t fight either.”

“I’ve seen some farms like that. The animals got along just fine, and it wasn’t weird at all.”

“That’s true, Crim,” Beth said thoughtfully. “A lot of animals do like each other, but not to this extreme. All our babies sleep together in the pen, and then play together for the rest of the day, like one big happy fucking family, including our horses, and even Fangs?

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t even think about it until Fangs showed up. The first time we went to sing to the horses, he was right there with us.

“Horses don’t like snakes, and I know that from personal experience, Crim. It’s just not normal,” Beth concluded, and then took a quick look around before adding, “It’s like we’re on some kind of ancient Indian Burial Ground or something magical like that.”

“I sure hope not,” I said, half joking. “You know how that always turns out.”

Beth and Randy both laughed. I didn't.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve got that bridge thing beat,” Randy said thoughtfully, and then laughed again, “but that’s pretty damn close. I don’t think it’s an ancient burial ground. I think it’s you guys.”

“It's not me. That's for damn sure,” I said, adding, “Besides, most of the new animals, that join us, are hurt and maybe our other babies just feel sorry for them. Yeah I know, that one sounds lame, even to me, but what’s not lame is you Beth. You’re the real magic, the real bright light here.”

“How do you explain all this going on before I even met you?”

“Animals can predict the future. There's documented evidence to suggest that it’s possible. They knew you were coming.”

“You know that most of that evidence is earthquake related,” Johnson pointed out.

“Maybe they can feel the tremors coming before we can, and none of that really helps prove what you're suggesting, that animals are able to predict the future.”

“Maybe,” I said reluctantly. I never gave up on my pet theories easily, not without a good verbal fight first, “and you’re probably right, because most of the evidence is earthquake related, but there are some cases that are not as easy to explain.

“Being an animal lover yourself, you must’ve heard those stories about cats and dogs traveling hundreds and sometimes thousands of miles to reunite with their owners?”

Beth looked at me thoughtfully, as Randy answered, “Yeah, I remember reading about some of those, but so what? Birds do that all the time, something to do with the magnetic lines that circle the Earth, I think, and that doesn't prove your theory either.”

“True, but there are at least two cases that defy that explanation.

“The first was five years ago, and it took the cat six months to reunite with the family. The second case was two years later, and it took the dog a month more, to do the same thing.”

I loved doing shit like this during a debate. Throw something mundane out, and then follow that with a kick to the head, except this time, I was talking to a Detective.

“Yeah, so?” Randy asked, “What’s to explain? They just... wait a minute. The families moved, or something, and that’s what mucks it up, isn’t it?”

“Yup, neither pet knew where the families had moved, and it wasn’t just across the street either, but hundreds of miles away.”

“I think, I remember reading about these cases now, but didn’t they disappear just before the families moved?”

“Yes they did, and I know what you’re thinking. They hid somewhere or in something that was moved with the family, except that after the stories came out, witnesses started coming forward saying they saw them during their travels.

“Besides, why hide for so long, and then all of a sudden show up? What’d they eat, and of course they’d also have to...”

“I still don’t buy it,” Randy interrupted me, and then added, “You know how unreliable eye-witness testimony can be sometimes.”

I was about to agree, when Beth said, “I'd buy it,” and then explained herself.

“I've sometimes helped Barry put an animal to sleep, and sometimes they just know what's coming. I can't explain it. It's just a feeling I have from watching so many of them before they were put down. If Crim’s not right, how else can you explain it? How do they know what's coming, unless they can see into the future somehow, or can read it in our faces, or understand what we’re saying in front of them?

“Even if they're learning it from our facial expressions, or from our words, that's still an amazing mental feat for a dog to be able to predict their future from that.

“The one case that really sticks in my mind was a pit-bull I remember helping Barry with. It was my last, and Barry’s too.

“I’ll never forget how she went down fighting every fucking inch of the way. It took all four of the people that the state had sent to help us restrain her, and to make sure the execution was carried out.

“Witnesses, they called themselves, and we were the executioners,” Beth said in almost a whisper. “She was strong, but they were stronger, and the poor dog didn't have a chance.

“I cried myself to sleep that night, and I think for a week after that,” she said as a small tear came to her eye, and she wiped it away, “and it just got weirder and eviler, because the reason she was put down, wasn’t because they really had to, but just in case.

“All they’d tell Barry was that the dog had to be put down just in case. Zero-tolerance,” she said quietly.

“A young girl had been mauled to death,” Beth continued after I wiped her eyes with a tissue, and she smiled at me a little, “and the evidence pointed to one of our patients. I don't even remember his fucking name now, but I remembered Shuffles.

“She was the gentlest and most kindest, and always made sure to rub her head against mine, whenever she got the chance.

“I couldn't believe she was capable of hurting anyone, never mind mauling someone to death. I just didn't see it.

“Come to find out,” Beth said after taking a deep breath, “a week later, after the owner had already told the cops the dog did it, and they had already put the dog to sleep just in case the owner wasn't lying, they found out who the real killer was, and it was Shuffle's owner.

“Shuffles was innocent and didn't want to die. It's the only thing that really explains why she was so hard to handle just before we put her to sleep. Shuffles was always so friendly, and the way she was acting then, made me believe at the time, that maybe she really did maul that girl, until I found out the truth.

“I hated myself for even thinking that, and after we were done, one of them told me, ‘Look where she bit me. I think the way you guys do it is way too humane. Someone should’ve beaten that thing to death with a baseball bat instead,’ and even laughed about it with his buddies, and I laughed with them.”

Beth started sobbing, but tried to finish anyway, “She wasn’t being mean. She was just trying to tell us that she was innocent, but didn’t know how to do it, and I didn’t care,” she said and started sobbing uncontrollably.

I’d never heard the last part of that story before, and hugged her, “I didn't know that, hon. I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” she was finally able to say, and then smiled.

“It's why Barry won't do another one, but on the bright side, I guess, it does help me to understand you a little better, if nothing else, you know?”

“Yeah, except you didn’t have a choice. I did, and I deserve nothing but evil happening to me, and you definitely don't deserve that Beth.”

“Why are you so fucking hard on yourself, Crim,” Beth said after giving me a kiss, and then searched my face for answers.

“Because no matter how many nice things I do, I'll never be a nice person. I'm evil, and no matter what I do, I can never fix or change that.”

Johnson, after listening to all of that, threw in his own personal theory, “I think you guys are like yin and yang.”

“Isn't that the symbol for good and evil?” I said, remembering that much about it, and added, “She's the good part, and I'm the evil part, right?”

“I don't think it's strictly good and evil. It's more like opposites. Many Eastern cultures believe it's needed for harmony to exist, and I also believe that in order to fight evil, good has to first understand it, and sometimes, it has to be a little evil too.

“There's a harmony in there somewhere, and both you guys make the perfect yin and yang, and that's where the real magic comes from, I think, or at least, that's my theory.

“I felt it big time while I was in that barn of yours,” Randy continued, “and I felt it coming from you, that first time I met you, but it was really weak, and not anywhere near as strong as it got after you met Beth.

“I can't figure it out, except that somehow what you did cleaned out every single bit of evil that you had in you, and now you’re so clean, you’re like a bright light in the night, that only animals can see, or special people like you Beth.

“I know it's a wild theory, but that's why I let that dog go on you Crim, and guess what happened Beth? Did he tell you what happened next?”

“He just told me that the dog started licking him, and then about that collar trick he does.”

“You didn't tell her, did you?”

“Tell her what?”

Randy looked back at Beth, “He just opened his arms out wide and invited the dog in to rip his throat out. I knew Sandy wouldn’t do that, or even hurt him, but I also didn't expect the Criminal to just open himself up like that.”

He looked back at me, “That dog, Sandy...” he stopped and was obviously searching for the right way to say what he said next, “Let me put it this way, I wouldn't be surprised if someday she was put to sleep for mauling a child. She can be that vicious.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel so much better,” I said sarcastically, as I appealed to Beth, so she could see for herself, the whole unfairness of the thing.

“Beth, he told me he was the one taking chances. He didn't say anything about my chances of surviving a vicious animal attack. Didn't even mention it. Told me it was better if I didn't know. As soon as I started to smell something funny, that's when I called you.”

But before she could answer, the two girls came running back inside, both asking Randy excitedly, “Can we get a couple bunnies Daddy? Please!”

Wendy came in a second later and shared a glance with Randy, both knowing exactly what would happen.

It’d be fine for a few weeks, until other things began occupying their minds. They'd forget all about the bunnies, and then they'd end up being the ones taking care of them.

That's when Beth stepped in, got down on one knee, and started the ball rolling in the right direction for the girls.

“Even if your parents agree, you have to ask us first, and whether we say yes depends on whether you can keep a couple promises,” she explained, and then studied both of them, one at a time, before continuing.

“First, you have to promise, with all your heart, that you'll both take super good care of which ever bunny or bunnies you take home with you,” she said, and then pointed to both of them, one after the other.

“And see this guy here,” she said while pointing back at me. They both looked at me and nodded.

“He was almost beaten up by four guys, just because he wanted to save those bunnies from drowning. He was lucky your Dad was there to help,” she said pausing and looked at each of them again before continuing, “They're miracle bunnies and need lots of love because of it. If you can promise that...”

Their eyes both got wide, and together they both said, “Wow!”

“...and also, if for any reason, you can't take good care of them, you'll give them back, and in return, we promise not to get mad.

“And, you can still come visit them whenever your parents say it’s ok.

“As a matter of fact, instead of getting mad, we'll both be just so happy to know that you’re as honest and grown-up as we think you are. Now, do you promise us to do those two things?”

Both girls, eyes still wide, nodded vigorously.

“Ok then, and no matter what happens next, like I just said, you’re both welcome to come over anytime you want to see them. Of course, you have to get permission from your parents first.”

Both girls had big smiles on their faces, turned to their parents, and we waited to see if Beth had read them right.

Wendy sighed, looked at Randy who was nodding his head, and she reluctantly nodded hers also.

“Ok, if you promise those two things, but only one bunny, not two.”

The girls looked a little crestfallen.

Beth was still down on one knee. “I think that is such a grown-up thing to do, to share one bunny. Wow!”

She then looked at Wendy, “I thought you said they were only eight years old? They act way more grown-up than that?”

“I'm seven, but I'm more grown-up than Mar is,” Chrissy said.

“Are not!” Mary retorted.

Beth laughed, and then shook her head, “I see that you're both going to need a couple lessons in sharing first, before you can have a bunny.”

“Like what?” Mary asked, almost like she was waiting for the ax to fall.

“Well it’s easy really. First, you both have to decide on which bunny you want, and then a name.

“That’s the fun part really, because you can combine names, if you can't decide on one, like Hoppy the Killer Bunny, or Pixel the Vampire Rabbit.”

They both laughed at those.

“And finally, you have to agree on a sharing schedule. How long each of you get to hold the bunny? Who does the feeding, or, you can just decide to play with and feed the bunny together. That would be a really grown-up thing to do. Deciding things like that are what grown-ups do all the time. Right?” She looked at both of them, waiting for them to say “right” back, like they were also grown-ups.

There are three magical words that all kids like to hear about themselves. Two of them were “grown-up,” and the other was “adult.” It's what they wanted more than anything, to be all grown-up and an adult, or at least treated like one. Beth was using the first one, not only because she sincerely believed they were, I think, but also because she remembers their magical qualities from when she was a kid.

I also remembered them and smiled. They’d take care of the bunnies, because it’d prove how grown-up they were.

Both girls said, “Right,” and then Beth took them out to choose a bunny.

After the girls chose a bunny, Bugs, they decided to call it Killer because, as Chrissy explained, “She's so not.”

After the girls giggled about that for a couple minutes, everyone agreed that was the perfect name for their bunny.

As everyone was leaving for the night, including Killer, Randy stopped at the door, looked around the place, and finally at Beth.

“I think you're both right. There's definitely something magical going on here, some kind of magical yin and yang thing. Unfortunately, being a representative of Law Enforcement, I have to pretend it’s not real and deny I said it.”

He turned to me, “Keep in touch,” and then was gone.

Beth and I were in the kitchen, and she was telling me how much she’d enjoyed herself, when I told her about the talking Cat.

She didn't believe it, and she definitely didn't believe the hundred thousand dollars either, but you already know that.

“This makes you look a little crazy,” Beth said thoughtfully. “You know that, right?”

“It makes me look more than just a little crazy, hon. It makes me look big time crazy, and that scares the hell out of me. If I'm cracking, and I lose control, Beth, babe, you have to promise me, you'll get the fuck away from me. Promise me Beth,” I begged pleadingly.

She searched my face, and then, in all seriousness said, “I promise to put a bullet in your leg if you ever don't look right.”

“What?! No, no, no...”

“Don't worry. It might take a couple years, but I promise you'll be able to walk again, and I'll be there with you, every step of the way. I'm a pretty good shot you know,” She said and pulled her gun out.

“I think, I'd rather you just ran away instead... Beth? What are you doing?”

“I won't ever leave you, not for anything. I love you too much. I'd rather shoot you first.”

“I really think that I'd rather you just ran away instead. Please, Beth.”

“We'll see,” is all she said and put her gun back after checking to see if it was loaded, I think, and refused to talk about it for the rest of the night.

I tried one more time, and then waited until after our second Halloween Patrol together, before bugging her about it again. I even went so far as to tell her how sadistic that sounded, but all she did was give me one of her crooked little smiles, kiss me, and then say, “We'll see.”

Sometimes, I wondered who the real crazy one was here, but after that last try, I finally gave up and turned on the TV to watch some other kind of mindless entertainment, and the next thing I knew, Sunday morning was here.

CHAPTER 7

Sunday, October 26th (dictated 8:05 pm, Oct 29).

When I first woke up, I didn’t know where the hell I was.

I squinted my eyes and looked around for a few seconds, before remembering that I’d been watching TV and must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. The TV was still on, and that was the biggest clue.

I swung over to get up, and my feet got all tangled up in something. A blanket? What the hell was that doing on the floor, and then saw the pillow and realized that Beth must’ve slept there.

That gave me a nice warm feeling inside, but then I felt bad. That must've been uncomfortable, because the mat was still in the tent, and that’s also when I heard her singing in the kitchen.

Since this was my week to cook, my plan was to give her a kiss and ask her what she wanted for breakfast.

That was the plan, but instead, I stood just outside the doorway and listened. I could hear the dishes clinking as she sang, and she really wasn’t that bad either.

She was singing her favorite song but wouldn't tell me what it was. She explained that I’d probably hit myself in the head with a hammer, when I found out.

“Repeatedly. It's that obvious,” she always told me, and like always, I tried to ignore it, but it was still frustrating.

If it was so obvious, why didn't I know it? It did sound a little familiar, and the name was always just on the very tip of my tongue, but I could never shake it lose.

One time, when I was trying to remember where the hammer was, I suddenly realized that Beth probably didn't know what it was either. That actually made more sense than the reason she gave me.

That made me chuckle at the time, but I never brought it up again. I just listened as she sang her little heart out and waited on the other side of the doorway.

While I just stood there listening, I once again wondered just what the hell was the name of that damn song? The problem was compounded by the fact that, by now, I didn’t know if I was remembering an actual song, or just Beth singing it.

She’s right. If I had a hammer right now, I’d probably hit myself with it, but then remembered what day it was.

The fourth Sunday of the month.

That’s when I hooked-up with my secret friends for our monthly secret meetings. I call them secret now, but they didn’t become secret until I met Beth and decided not to tell her.

It seemed like a good idea, at the time.

Anyway, even though I never told Beth, I’ve still never missed one, and not because I was the one who started this secret club. Pee Wee and I did actually, and at most of our secret meetings, what we did, or tried to do, was figure out a way to use missing person reports to find serial killers. We also talked about other things, but that was our main focus.

My theory was that there must be something about missing person reports, a keyword or combination of key words, that would help us pinpoint which of the thousands of reports were serial killer related.

I’m not exactly sure what we’ll be able to do with the information, but I did know that missing persons were almost always involved in serial killer activities somewhere or somehow, and it wouldn’t hurt to know this before they got prolific.

I even had a webpage set-up to help us. It was only one page, but it was long.

At the top, I explained my theory, and under that, gave my contact information and asked for help from anyone who had an opinion, suggestion, criticism, or even if they just wanted to add another missing person link to the long list that followed.

I even rented a Post Office Box and listed it as one of the two ways to contact us, just in case someone wanted to send us something.

An e-mail address came with the webpage, and I put that down as the second way to contact us.

Whatever I got, I brought to our next meeting, along with any new reports that I’d found relevant.

All we had to do was figure out how to find that certain something that would help us link them to serial killers, and that wasn’t as easy as I thought it’d be.

Back in the beginning, my mistake was in using new reports to figure it all out. Those were frustrating to work with, because most of them weren’t officially connected to a serial killer yet, and that made our work more speculative than productive.

I know, dumb huh?

“What we’ve got to do instead,” Darryl explained after a couple years of that, “was look at the older reports, the ones that already have serial killer confirmation, and use those to build a fluid profile that we could test out on the newer ones.

“Once those were confirmed, then we’d know if we were on the right track or not. That makes sense, right?”

It did make sense, so that’s what we’ve been doing since then, and even though we still haven’t come up with that fluid profile yet, I think we might be getting close.

This Sunday though, we were supposed to discuss the annual, week-long, Halloween patrol that we've been doing for the past ten years.

Even though I was the one to kind of organize the first one, Pee Wee was the one who originally thought of the idea, and Mouse was the real brains behind the whole thing.

That first year, it was just me and Pee Wee. Mouse helped out in the downtown area when she could.

The second year, Darryl joined us. That was also the same year I met Beth, and ironically enough, it was an abused animal that brought us together.

Well actually, she joined me and not them, because even though my secret friends knew about her, she still didn’t know about them.

My secret meeting and friends are the only two things that she doesn't know about me. She knows about everything else. What I did, the Darkness, my fantasies, and most importantly, my fear of losing control again.

I even told her a few of my fantasies, well, a lot really, but not the details. I wanted to tell her those, but she stopped me, “No way Jose! I think I’ve heard more than enough already.”

I even told her the ones about her.

What bothered her the most wasn’t what I was thinking, but rather, what I’d done. That bothered her way more than my fantasies did. Even the ones about her, because she loved what I was doing with the farm, and that seemed to negate all that other stuff that was wrong with me.

She fell in love with all of it at first sight, including me, and like I dictated earlier, moved in a week later.

Nine years ago, this Halloween, I ran across an emergency abuse case and called Barry.

Unfortunately, he couldn't make it right that minute, because he was with a poisoned black cat, but added, “I’ll call my Assistant, and I promise, she’ll be right there,” and she was.

That’s how Beth and I first met.

“I love what I do so much, that if I could, I'd do it for free,” she told me that first time, and then laughed, “but then I'd be living under a bridge and eating bark.”

Her work schedule was basically 24/7, and that meant she didn't really have the time or money to go to Veterinarian School, like she wanted. At least, not just yet anyway. She took a few classes, but always ended up missing a lot of them to help Barry.

Like me, she also needed to help animals, but for a totally different reason.

Shuffles was one of those reasons.

It also didn't hurt that she liked working with Barry.

After Beth moved in, he and I had a heart to heart and decided to work together to at least get her certified as a Veterinarian’s Assistant.

I helped her study and even went to her classes if she got called away in a hurry. That’s when my eidetic memory came in really handy.

Barry knew a couple of the professors out at the University, and he worked with them to let me sit in when she was gone.

Most of her classes were at night, so I didn’t have to worry about missing work. She was gone so much, that I started going to some of the classes with her anyway.

It was a ten-month course, but it took Beth two years to finish it, and even though, all she got was a certificate mailed to her, we celebrated it like she’d graduated from College, and then framed it.

I’m looking at it right now, and I remember how happy she was, and how proud I was. It was a big deal to her, and that made it a big deal to me.

Barry and his wife, Terry, also came along, and we hit all the nightspots, ending up finally at Joe’s Tavern. That’s where Beth met D and instantly hated him.

More on that later.

I’ve met other Vets through the Initiative group, but Barry was the only one to actually tell me about the problems that they were all having finding good homes for pets that nobody wanted any more.

They either brought them in personally or left them on his front steps anonymously. Some of them were near death.

We have some of them on our farm right now.

He was very professional, but also very gentle and kind, even when he got angry, except when Beth got him all worked up like last Tuesday.

I always got the impression that it wasn't just because it was his job either, but because like Beth, he really cared about and loved the work he did.

He treated Beth like a grandfather would, always giving her a little advice every now and then, and little inexpensive presents for Christmas and her birthday. When times were slow, he’d give her a temporary raise, so she could get by, or a place to stay when she needed it.

Terry, simply fell in love with Beth and talked her into moving in permanently. Barry couldn’t always afford to pay her the money she deserved, but this way, letting her live with them for free, was like giving her a good raise.

I wouldn't be surprised if he had something to do with getting us together that night, and not to get rid of her, but more like he was looking out for her. I’m sure Terry also had something to do with it, and that brings us back to why I kept those two things secret from Beth.

I should've told her right from the very beginning, but it seemed too soon after telling her about what I’d done. I was worried that if she found out about some of the really sick shit I wanted to talk about at these secret meetings, she’d take it the wrong way, and leave me.

I just kept putting it off, until after a year, I began to worry that if I told her now, she'd leave me for sure, because I waited so long.

Then, as she left, she’d shoot me.

Well, maybe she wouldn’t shoot me, but the missing her part would be just as bad. I really do love you girl. I could write a couple million Journals about how you make every single day different and more exciting than the one before it.

Now, I had no choice. I had to tell her, because I wanted my secret friends to be there when I Cat-napped the Cat. Not only because the more people that saw her talk, the better, but also as back up, and I know Beth will insist on being there anyway.

It’s inevitable, but unfortunately, I haven’t figured out how to tell her yet.

After breakfast and cleanup, and before I left, I made my usual excuse about going to the library to do some research, and then gave her a kiss.

“See you in a couple hours,” I told her, then called Pee Wee for a ride, and off I went.

I didn’t really need to call him, but we’d been doing it this way for so long, that I just did it automatically.

The Library was where we held our secret meetings, and even though I was feeling a little guilty about keeping them secret from Beth, it didn't stop me from also getting excited about it.

Instead of discussing the Halloween Patrol right off, I wanted to start by asking for their help, so I had to tell them about the Cat, Halloween, and especially about the money.

This year was gonna be Rhonda's first time, and that might cause problems. She might not want to talk about that and literally heckle me, until I either shut-up or went too far and swore at her.

I liked to pretend that she was my secret arch-enemy, because she was perfect for the part. Every time I suggested something, she'd either argue about it, make fun of me, or both.

Hmm, that sounds a little like you, babe.

Anyway, my pretend comic book job was to foil her at every move she made. She was trying to take over the group, my group, and I had to stop her. That was my working plot anyway.

Even though she was my pretend arch-enemy, all my friends liked her, and that’s why I didn’t swear at her that often.

Usually, I just shut-up, but this time, I had a plan, and it might just work if I didn’t start swearing at her first.

When I told everyone about AmyStrange, no one believed me either, just like Beth, and Rhonda just made fun of me and the video.

“Really Criminal? A talking Cat? Why are you wasting our time with this? I've never been on one of these Halloween patrols, and that's what I want to talk about, not some stupid hallucination about some Cat wanting more kibbles. Give me a break, and that video... pfff, I’ve got blind friends who can do better than that. Shit, I can do better than that.”

Even though she opposed everything I suggested, and even though she was my pretend arch-enemy, I also felt a certain amount of sympathy for her.

Not only because she reminded me of how I could get sometimes, but mostly because of her mission in life, and that was to find her sister who disappeared a year ago, this Halloween.

Her sister was fourteen at the time, and Rhonda was only thirteen, but now her sister would be fifteen, if she was still alive, and that was a really big if.

One of the weird things she did, and still does, was to always wear the same exact schoolgirl uniform her sister was wearing the night she disappeared.

“Her name is Stephanie, but I call her Steph, and you have to help me find her,” was the first thing she said, when she first joined our group, just barged right in really. She was pushy, and I didn't like that, or her, right from the start.

That was six months ago, and since then she’s told us everything about her sister's case that she knew or assumed.

She also explained why she always wore that same outfit everywhere.

The only time she ever cried was that first day when she explained how much she missed her sister. Her tough act dropped away, and I could see the scared little girl that was hiding underneath it.

That's why, even though she was my pretend arch-enemy, and a general pain in the ass, I let her slide a lot more than I really should have, and also because she was a whiz at hacking.

She was able to get a hold of documents from our police department, and from all over the world, including the FBI and Interpol, that were supposed to be impossible to get.

I still didn't like her though. There was just something about her that rubbed me the wrong way, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t sympathize with her a little, except today.

“Listen you fucking Brat. If you don't want to be at my house this Friday to see this talking Cat for yourself, then don't come. I don't care either way. As a matter of fact, I'd like it very much if you didn't fucking show up at all,” I said, before I realized I was shouting.

The head librarian was already on her way.

Oh shit, here we go, I thought.

She didn't want to have to tell us again to keep it down.

“I don't know why you don't reserve one of our meeting rooms? You're here every fourth Sunday anyway, and we always have a room free then. It won't cost you a thing, and I can always keep it open for you. As a matter of fact, why don't you go use one right now, and then you can scream and holler all you want, and I won't have to ask you to leave.”

We’d never thought of that and thanked her. By the time we got done pilling into that big empty room with only four people, I’d calmed down a lot.

On the way, while Rhonda and the Librarian were talking, Pee Wee caught up with me.

“What's wrong with you? That was uncalled for, and you know it.”

“You're right. I have no good excuse for what I did,” except she's such a pain in the ass, I thought, but didn't say out loud.

“I'll apologize to her, after we get settled down in our new digs.”

Darryl sidled up and added his own two cents, “I agree with Pee Wee. Besides, I'm thinking of taking her under my wing and teaching her my craft, and you might need her help someday, Crim.”

Before I could reply, the librarian was leaving, and Darryl, ever the gentleman, was thanking her and also giving her one of his legendary smiles. I've seen women melt under them.

She said, “You’re welcome,” and even though she didn't melt, she actually had a smile on her face when she closed the door. I don't think I can ever remember seeing her smile, ever.

After we got settled in, I apologized to Rhonda.

“I'm sorry Rhonda. What I said was uncalled for, and I sure could use all the help I can get, and I do hope you come over Halloween. Now let's talk about the Halloween Patrols, and after that, I have an idea about Stephanie that I want to run by you.

“I think I know how we can narrow down the number of houses in Ghost Town that we'll have to search. I think you have the right idea there.”

She didn't want to wait until after the meeting was over, so we started it off with that, after everyone agreed to be at my house this Friday, even Rhonda.

Ghost Town was well over a couple thousand acres of houses that a Corporation had bought up ten years ago.

They were then immediately sued in court by first a couple real estate agents, and then later, a couple dozen more.

One thing they all knew was real estate law, and they used it to keep that Corporation in court for the last ten years, filing a new suit every year, and sometimes every few months.

A court order from the original suit had frozen the assets of the Corporation, which included all their property, specifically the more than two thousand acres of empty houses that sat in Ghost Town.

What the Corporation had done was go directly to the owners and pay them cash for their houses, but before they got their cash, they had to sign a non-disclosure agreement. If they ever revealed what they were paid, they would not only lose the money, but also their house.

In less than a month, the Corporation had bought up almost every house there, and everyone promptly disappeared. Most of them have since been found, but a handful are still missing.

Jeremiah Jacobs was the last holdout.

Everyone called him JJ for short, or just plain Jay. He’d told his friends that he couldn't see how he could move out of there. That's where his wife died, and where she lived with him for forty plus years.

She was buried there, in her favorite spot in the back yard. How could he sell this house, dig her body up and move her? How could he possibly do that?

He was found hanging in his bedroom the next day. His two sons moved their Mom to a nearby cemetery along with their Dad.

They promptly sold the house to the Corporation, and also signed a non-disclosure agreement that, oddly enough, also included talking about their Dad's death.

Everyone thought he’d committed suicide, including his sons, and that was mostly because of what he’d said, and also because there was no hard evidence to contradict the suicide conclusion.

I'm always suspicious of suicides, though. Even the ones where there was no question about it, but especially the ones that were questionable or suspicious, like this one was.

His death was just too convenient for the Corporation, and it certainly was interesting that JJ had also been a real estate agent.

It's one of the underlying reasons why many of the real estate agents and agencies had banned together to sue the Corporation, but the number one reason, of course, was because of the money.

No one knew for sure how much had really been spent, because everything was done in cash, and because of the non-disclosure agreements, but that didn't stop anyone from making educated guesses.

The most conservative estimate was half a billion dollars, but not everyone agreed with that figure. A lot of people, including the first two real estate agents, thought the Corporation had paid out a couple billion dollars for all that property.

The lost commissions from all that, even the low-ball number, was what this was really all about.

Anyway, because of all the lawsuits, all those houses, more than five thousand, have remained empty ever since that day JJ was found.

It looked scary at night too, and that's where Rhonda figures her sister is. To me, it certainly looked like the most obvious place. The problem was with so many houses, you couldn't just break into one and start searching, because someone was sure to try and stop us at some point, probably before we got too far.

Even if no one stopped us, that’s a lot of fucking houses to search through.

That meant that before we could start searching, we had to narrow the number of houses down to a more manageable amount, before someone stopped us.

If we all put our heads together, Rhonda might be able to write a program that would do just that.

It was definitely worth a try, and also got me thinking about doing the same thing with our missing person reports, but finding Stephanie, was more important right now.

Rhonda thought it was worth a try, took all our ideas, and promised to start working on it tonight.

We then came to the Halloween patrols, and this brightened Rhonda up even more.

The first thing we talked about was the different sections we’d be patrolling that night and the rest of the week.

Pee Wee would take one section, and Mouse would take the downtown area, like she always did.

Rico, a friend of theirs, also helped out in the downtown area, when he could, and did an almost mirror image of the taxi route Mouse did.

Darryl would take one, and this year, Rhonda would go with him.

That left the last two sections.

One for Beth, and one for me, or four sections all together, not including the downtown area.

Those four sections, or “hot spots” as we called them, were determined by the number of animal abuse and missing pet reports we’d put together over the last year.

This year, Rhonda helped by hooking us up with some animal abuse groups, and also by getting us links to all the ones that kept track of animal abuse cases in the area.

Beth and I always took the worst ones. Beth had a concealed-weapons permit and always carried a Glock 19, sometimes two of them.

According to her, they were deadly accurate at close range, but not so much at really long distances, unless you were an expert shot.

Beth was an expert shot. Actually, she was better than an expert shot.

I’ve seen her, from fifty yards away, a gun in each hand, hit a target dead center with both bullets, while blindfolded.

I know, I can’t believe it either, but I was there and saw her do it thirty-one different times, and all of them under different circumstances.

She once told me that her sense of direction was so acute, it was almost like she didn’t have one on.

One time, to prove it, she even asked me to spin her around a couple times while blindfolded, and she still hit the fucking things dead center.

Other people don’t believe me when I tell them either, and this kind of pisses Beth off a little, because she knows that now, she’s gonna have to put on a show.

What surprises people the most isn’t the blindfold, it’s how fast she can draw, and the fact that she fires both guns from the hip.

The first time I saw her do it, I simply couldn’t believe it either. She had her hands down by her side, and then, I swear to God, the guns magically appeared just as she fired.

Even when I’ve replayed it later, I couldn’t see where they were coming from, and I know where she hides them.

When we go out on our patrols, even our daily ones, she always carries two guns with her instead of just one. She even showed me how to shoot them.

“In case I need you to back me up some time, Captain.”

I didn’t even argue with her, and I can shoot semi-ok, but nothing even close to what Beth can do.

I’ve also seen her, with one motion, flip both guns and shoot backwards. Both of them also hitting dead center, except, I’ve never seen you do that one blindfolded, babe.

She also knows how to break all her guns down, clean them, and reassemble them. That, I’ve seen her do blindfolded.

We even have all the equipment she needs to make her own ammunition, but I’ve already explained that part.

Myself, I didn't like guns, especially being shot by one, but I have to admit that I felt safer when she was around, and I didn't worry as much when she wasn't.

The patrols always lasted from eleven until two in the morning. Halfway through, Beth and I would switch hot spots, unless she had to leave on a call.

It was our way of making sure each area got looked at with fresh eyes, in case either of us missed something.

She always thought we were the only ones doing these patrols.

This Friday was going to be the end of all that. The end of every single secret I've ever kept from her, but how do I do that without also losing her?

CHAPTER 8

Monday, October 27th (dictated 8:29 pm, Oct 29).

It finally arrived, and while Beth slept through the whole thing, I quickly dressed.

After waking her, she said, “Wow! An hour early, what's gotten into you?”

“Halloween,” I said cryptically, kissed her, and off I went.

Even AmyStrange was surprised to see me that early, but it didn’t stop her from getting right down to the escape, even before I had a chance to ask one question.

“I’ll give you two hundred thousand dollars, if a hundred isn’t enough,” and then raised it to three hundred when I hesitated.

“You’ve got to get me out of here, and you’ve got to do it before the end of the week. Otherwise, poof, there goes your chance to make even more money. I’ve got a couple other cat friends who also need help, and by the way, they’re the ones bankrolling this whole sheebockle.

“Besides, isn’t this what you do, save animals?”

Three hundred thousand dollars, I thought, and almost didn't tell her, almost. If this was an illusion that I was creating for myself, wouldn't I know that Halloween was this Friday, and not three weeks away?

“I already agreed to help you, so don’t worry about that. When I say I’m going to do something, you can almost put that in the bank. As far as the money, let's just keep it at one hundred thousand,” I told her, and then added, “I forgot to tell you that Halloween was this Friday. Forgive me, but I was in a kind of shock last Friday, if you know what I mean? You don't meet a talking Cat every day.”

“True, I guess, but I'll still pay you the three hundred thousand anyway, just because that was an honest thing to do, and honesty should always be rewarded,” the Cat said, like she was announcing a decree or something.

“First you have to tell me, why Halloween, and why not sooner? For three hundred thousand dollars, I think I deserve to know at least that much, if not a lot more.”

So, I told her all about how Friday would give us the weekend before anyone found out, and also about how the week before Halloween was probably one of the most dangerous times for animals, “Especially for black cats like yourself.

“Beth and I drive a patrol on those nights. We've already been on three patrols already, and you might think that’d be a waste of time, but there were a couple...”

The Cat interrupted, finishing for me, “One time, you and Beth saved a kitten from being torched by two shitheads. I know all about it, and also that’s when you met Beth.”

“You do? How?” I began.

“Not important, but money is. Out of all the questions you probably have, what you really want to know about is the money.

“You answered my question, so I'll answer that one first,” she said, and then pulled out a plastic card and handed it to me.

“On that card is ten thousand dollars.”

Where in the hell did she get that from, I thought, and took the card from her. It was a debit card from a local bank, that already had my real name on it, and a sticky-note with a user ID and four-digit number printed on it. The year I was born, backwards.

“That's your pin-number.”

That brought up so many more questions, I didn’t even know where to begin.

“Let's start with yes, it's real,” like the Cat could read my mind, “and if you don't believe me, come check it out,” and with that, jumped off the desk and went into the Secret Room.

The Secret Room, I thought. I was going into the Secret Room. I peeked around the corner first, like I was still a little kid sneaking into my parent’s bedroom, and then walked in. It wasn’t small like an elevator, but about half the size of the Dirty-Side.

What really caught my attention was the cage in the corner, that was surrounded by more than a dozen cameras on tripods and twice as many microphones and lights hanging from the ceiling.

The lights were so bright that it almost made the cage look too real.

I turned away to look at where the Cat was before looking back to get another look, and what I saw was one serious-ass looking cage.

“That's my home sweet home. Now come over here and check this out,” she said and pointed to a computer that was already on and ready to use.

I opened a browser, and it was already at the website printed on the back of the card. I put in my user ID, my pin-number, and then I was in.

The first thing I noticed was the account balance, ten thousand dollars exactly.

I compared my card number with the number on the account, thinking this had to be some kind of mistake, but the numbers matched exactly.

“Wow!” was all I could think of to say, and when I realized how much money it was worth, I almost dropped the card.

“Wow!” I said again.

“Are you convinced now?”

“I'm almost convinced, but you still have to meet my friends, especially Beth...”

“And also talk to them. I get it. You get me out of here, Criminal, and I'll talk to anyone you want, except keep in mind, who I talk to is just as important as who I don't talk to.”

“Gotcha,” I said and stashed the card in my wallet.

The Cat explained a few other things, and then glanced at the clock and said, “I'll try and answer all your other questions tomorrow, including where the money comes from, but now it's time for you to go.”

I looked at the clock and realized she was right. I’d been in here for almost an hour, and once again I was forced to run to my second room, and then to my station on the Clean-Side to start another nonstop day.

This one was different though, because I had ten-thousand dollars carefully tucked away deep inside my wallet.

I decided not to tell anyone about any of this, at least no one at work anyway. That might be dangerous, but I did tell Beth.

She just flipped and couldn't talk straight for a whole two minutes.

“I have to check this out,” she finally said and looked at the back of the card. She went online and would’ve been shocked again, except, “Wait a minute. There's five-hundred dollars missing.”

“That's for me, the rest is yours. You should go back to school, Beth, and get your degree. A certificate is nice, but a degree would put you in the big time.”

“I can't believe it. Where is this coming from?”

I almost explained everything to her right then and there. About my secret friends and my secret meetings, but instead, all I said was, “She promised to explain more tomorrow, but she also told me that instead of a hundred thousand, she’s now going to pay us three hundred thousand dollars to help her escape, and even more money if we also helped her two friends escape.”

She had a worried look, and probably a million other questions, but instead, all she said was, “I can't wait to hear that story. It's gotta be a killer, and I'm not talking about a bunny either,” and she was right.

And once again, I took a little nap before we went out on patrol again.

CHAPTER 9

Tuesday, October 28th (dictated 8:35 pm, Oct 29).

Last night was our fourth night on patrol, but only the second for my secret friends, and like those other nights, nothing happened. That was good, but I never really felt good about it, until I checked the news.

I was up until three doing that, but still got up an hour early, and surprisingly enough, Beth was already up.

I took a shower, dressed and hurried into the kitchen.

“Morning honey-bun. What smells so damn good?”

“Morning Captain Monroe,” she said, and then kissed me.

She showed me where to sit, and then laid a big plate of eggs, pancakes, and toast right down in front of me.

Beth was a good cook, so it didn’t surprise me that it almost looked too good to eat.

I did say almost, right?

“I know this is your week to cook,” she said, while watching me shovel the food into my mouth, “but not tonight. I’m gonna cook you the best meal in the whole world, but you can’t have a bite until you tell me everything, and I do mean everything, Captain.”

“Uh huh,” I said intelligently.

After watching me for a couple more minutes, “Oh, by the way,” she said slowly, and I almost stopped stuffing my face.

“Are any of your secret friends gonna be coming over to help? You know, with the Cat-napping?”

“What?” I said, almost choking on a pancake.

She laughed, and then added, “Secret friends. That is just so fucking funny.”

“What are you talking about?” I wheezed, while pretending to be choking to death.

“Oh, don't give me that innocent act, like you don't know,” she said with a satisfied smirk on her face. “I know all about your secret meetings and also your secret friends. I’ve known for years. Now come on, finish eating and get to work. I’ve also got things to do.”

“But, how...”

“I'll tell you tonight, after you tell me everything, but wait a minute,” she said, “You never did answer my question. Are they going to be here Friday or not?”

“They said they would,” I told her.

“I'm coming along, whether you want me to or not,” she said and grabbed my coat. She wrapped it over my shoulders, grabbed one of my arms, and struggled to put it into a sleeve.

“I don’t ever remember saying you couldn’t,” I said, while trying to fight her off with one hand, and eating with the other.

“The more people, the better. You know that,” I added, but then yelled “Hey!” as she pulled a knit cap over my head, and then over my eyes.

“Oops,” she giggled, and while pulling me somewhere, asked, “Did you tell ‘em that at your last meeting? The one you went to on Sunday?”

I started to say, “I did...” but didn’t get too far, because that’s when she shoved me, and then I heard a door slam behind me.

What the fuck, I thought, pulled the hat off and looked around.

I was freakin’ outside!

I opened the door, and she was still standing there.

I was about to ask her what the fuck, when she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me one hell of a kiss.

After a whole minute, she pushed me away a little and said in a breathless voice, “We should get married.”

“What?!” I said, almost choking for real. “I'm leaving for work, and you bring this up now?”

She shrugged and smiled that crooked little smile of hers, “It just seemed like the most appropriate time,” she said, and then frowned.

“Why? Don't you want to marry me?”

I kissed her again, and then said, “I don't know of a better way to spend the rest of my life, but let's talk about that later, please.”

“Tonight,” was her answer.

“Tonight,” I echoed, and then she pushed me out the door again, and slammed it in my face, again.

I can honestly say, that was the weirdest marriage proposal that I’d ever witnessed, especially since it didn't involve live snakes, tree-frogs, or anything crazy like that.

I looked around to see if I could see Fangs and almost went back in but decided against it.

While getting in the car, I realized that I didn’t have to tell Beth about my secret friends anymore, and my phone started vibrating.

I checked, and it was a text from Beth, “Send me a list of your friends and what they like to eat and drink.”

“Ok,” I texted her back, and then saw her waving from the window.

What’s wrong with that girl, I thought, and pretended to yell, “I'm still in the freakin' driveway, Beth,” but she just laughed and let the curtain fall.

Maybe it's the money? Lots of money can make you feel giddy, and that's exactly how she was acting, giddy.

I was also feeling a little giddy, especially with five hundred smackaroonies in my pocket.

While driving, I thought about the Cat and her escape.

Getting her out wasn’t gonna be the problem. What happened after that was the real problem.

We had the weekend, before anyone would know she was gone, but I wanted to delay that for as long as possible.

My fantasy world started churning out ideas, and I let it run in the background while I parked and went inside.

A minor problem was coming up with a good reason for being there at midnight, but I figured that by Halloween, I’d be able to come up with something.

As I entered the Vivarium, I was walking fast, but by the time I got to the Oh Oh Room, I was trying not to run.

The secret door was closed and more than likely locked, but that voice from the vent greeted me warmly none the less, “Even earlier then yesterday. Very well-done Grasshopper.”

“The story,” I finally gasped and fell into one of the chairs.

“Get yourself a coffee, while I open the door.”

I did that gladly, and a minute later was inside, and she began explaining who the pictures on the door were.

The top three, on the left, were Frankenstein and his two evil assistants. They were the day-crew.

The picture of a woman, after those three, was Amy. She was the night-crew lead, and the two pictures on the bottom left were her crew.

AmyStrange liked them much better than the day-crew. “They really are like night and day,” the Cat said laughing, and then suddenly stopped.

The other two pictures on the bottom right were from the military. One of them was that One-Star military guy.

“What about that woman with the Captain’s bars?”

“What about her?”

“Shouldn’t her picture also be up there?” I asked but remembered that someone did switch it with the General’s every other month, but that didn’t make any sense either.

“That’s a good question, because I see her all the time,” the Cat said, “but I’ve never seen those last two guys. I guess intelligence in the military isn’t that important.”

“That’s mean,” I said, but told her the joke about Military Intelligence being an oxymoron anyway, and she chuckled, but then wanted to know what an oxymoron was.

She looked it up and laughed even louder.

“It’s so true,” she said a couple times, but then got down to business again.

She explained that Frankie was the one who invented the gene modification process that allowed her to talk.

“At least, that’s what I think, but he doesn’t know that yet. I think he’s waiting for something else to happen, but I’m not sure what that is.

“Why’s the Military involved anyway?”

“Involved! They’re the ones funding Frankenstein,” the Cat said.

“But, why here? Why not on some secret military base somewhere?”

“I have no idea,” the Cat said, and then added, “but what do you expect from oxymorons?”

We both laughed at that one, but I made sure to add, “You’ve gotta respect the guys gettin’ shot at, though, because their job’s the toughest one of them all.”

“If you say so,” the Cat said, and then for no reason added, “His name’s Bart, by the way.”

“Who? The military guy?”

“No, Frankie.”

“Oh, ok, but what else do you know about this whole military thing?”

“Not much really, except that if anything out of the ordinary happens, like I sneeze or something, they want the day and night-crew to record it.

“That’s what all those cameras are for, but the night-crew pretty much ignores them. They keep telling Frankie that all I do is sleep, but I wonder if he really believes that, because I also do it all day?”

“Cat’s do tend to sleep a lot, so I think you’re safe.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” the Cat said, and then continued, “Another thing they’re not supposed to do was let me out of the cage, but they do it anyway.”

That gave her a chance to study the computers and figure out how they worked.

All that was interesting, but what I really wanted to know was, “when did you realize you could talk?”

“It wasn’t right away, because everything was just noise at first, but then one day, I was staring at the whiteboard while Frankie was making some more of those noises, and then it stopped being noise.

“‘S, T, R, A, N, G, E,’ Frankie said, while pointing to each letter, and then said, ‘AmyStrange’ over and over, and everyone looked at me.

“I remember thinking, that’s me. I’m AmyStrange, and that shocked the shit out of me, because that’s when everything clicked into place, like an epiphany.

“I began to understand words and also remember things, but I didn’t know I could talk until a couple months ago.”

I looked at the whiteboard, and it was still up there, except instead of “AmyStrange”, it said, “Any Strange”.

When I told her, she said, “Yeah, I know, but I didn’t figure that out until later, and by then I was already thinking of myself as AmyStrange, so deal with it.”

“I don’t care,” I said and laughed. “You can call yourself whatever the hell you want.”

“Thank you. Now, where was I?”

“Two months ago...”

“Right. Two months ago, after everyone was gone, I was reading something on the computer and heard myself saying the words out loud.

“For a second, I thought someone else was in the room with me, and I was busted, but no one was there. I even said, ‘Hello, who’s there?’ and that’s when I realized I was the one talking.

“After that, I couldn’t wait until the day-crew came in. I had so much to tell them, but something in the back of my head said, “No! Don’t do it!”

It wasn’t my normal voice either, but a desperate and scared one, so I decided to wait, and then it happened.”

When she stopped, I asked, “What happened?”

“I’ll have to tell you tomorrow, because now, you’ve got to go.”

I looked at the clock, and she was right.

On my way out, she added, “Don't worry if you come even earlier, because I can smell you about twenty minutes before you get here, so I'll be ready when you do,” and the door swooshed shut behind me.

Wow! I thought as I pulled out my wallet and looked at the five hundred dollars again. She’d also explained where the money came from, but to me, it sounded like a plot from an old Superman movie. The one with Richard Pryor.

The rest of the day took forever to get through, because I couldn't wait to get home and tell Beth everything, and also talk about all that other stuff.

After counting out a thousand cages, twice, I was finally allowed to leave.

By then, my fantasy world had come up with a possible, but I needed to run it by D first, and while on the way to the car, sent him a text, “Can we meet tomorrow?”

I turned the engine over, and my phone vibrated. It was D, “Might be free. Text me then.”

Next, I called Beth and got her voice-mail. Why wasn't she answering, I wondered.

Next, I called all my secret friends, except my arch-enemy. I just wanted to confirm that they were still coming.

I was hoping maybe, hopefully, that Pee Wee would forget, and she wouldn't be there. Not because I didn't want her to be there, but because she was still my arch-enemy.

So, I just decided to let Pee Wee decide for me, and I knew I was taking the wussy way out, but I didn't care. If he brought her, fine, but if he didn't, that would be fine also. Either way would be fine, except I really wanted her to be there.

I pulled up in front of the house and wondered where Beth’s car was.

I went in and while admiring a couple new pieces of furniture in the living room, Beth came in and kissed me.

She didn't want to talk about the new furniture or what happened this morning. Instead, she wanted to know what I’d learned from the Cat, but first I had to ask why she didn't answer her phone.

“Oh, I'm sorry, hon. I was in the middle of registering for a class. You know how it is. Sometimes our internet sucks, and it was taking forever for pages to load, so I went down to the college. With all the noise, I guess I didn’t hear the phone.

“Oh my God! I hope Barry didn’t call,” she said and pulled it out to check.

“I did cook you an awesome dinner, just like I promised,” she said while doing that, and then started pulling things out of the refrigerator.

“So, you registered?” I asked while watching her quick heat everything.

“Yup, but I didn't want to go full load right out of the box, and registered for just one, Intro to Animal Biology and Physiology.”

“Very appropriate,” I said, “but didn’t you already take that one?”

“I did, but I could use a refresher, and besides, I can also audit it now, and that's what I'm going to do for the next couple days,” she said really fast, like she was fast-forwarding to the good part.

“Now! Tell me what the hell happened today!”

I did, and she had a lot of questions, especially about the money, but I said, “No, we have to talk about what happened this morning first.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” she asked and put a plate in front of me and another one right across the table.

“No way. Nothing in the world would make me happier. We've been going together for what, eight years? I can't see any downside to this.”

“Halloween will be our Ninth Anniversary.”

That's right, I thought, and wolfed down another fucking delicious meal. Beth was right, and I might be biased, but this was the best meal in the world.

“Babe, how can you top yourself like this every night?” I said and shoveled another spoonful into my mouth.

She laughed, and we spent the rest of the meal talking about those nine years, and that worked its way around to deciding on a day.

I wanted to do it right now, but she wanted to wait until Spring, and like I had any say in the matter, we finally decided she was right.

I really didn’t put up much of an argument, because I was too busy shoveling food into my mouth.

“What is this?” I finally asked.

“Chicken Cordon Bleu and my special sauce.”

Her special sauce was to die for, and I told her that, but like usual, she disagreed.

“Die for?” she said, and then laughed, “This’ll bring you back to life.”

“How would that even work?” I asked and took four big bites.

She went on and on about just how horrible a job it’d be, ending with, “Of course, the salted crackers are optional.”

“I don’t think that would work at all, even with the salted crackers,” I countered, and then asked, “Why do you have to put toilet paper up your butt again?”

“I never said I had to put toilet paper up my butt,” she laughed, and that got us going round and round again until our Halloween Patrol.

What we did after that is none of your damn business.

CHAPTER 10

Wednesday, October 29th, (dictated 2:22 am, Oct 30).

After this Journal entry, I'll be all caught up.

My usual sleep schedule, about seven hours a night, went to hell during Halloween week. I was lucky to get five, even on the weekend, but so far, I think two hours is the most I’ve gotten.

Sure, I’ve been gettin’ up earlier and earlier every day, but that’s not the only reason. It’s also because I’ve been so excited about so many things, that it's been taking me longer and longer to fall asleep.

At the top of the exciting list was marrying Beth, followed by coming up with a plan to break the Cat out, the Halloween patrols, and all that crazy shit the Cat’s been telling me every morning.

I usually tried to take a quick thirty-minute nap before each patrol, but not last night. After dinner, we went to relax in the bedroom, and after a while, started going round and round about my secret friends, and also some other things.

“After hearing some of the sick shit we talked about, I was afraid you'd take it the wrong way, and I'd never see you again.”

“It's gonna take me a long time, before I can forgive you for this one, Crim. I mean, you lied to me. How do I know you won't ever do it again?”

“I guess you'll just have to learn to trust me all over again,” I said, and then took a deep breath, “What I did, I did because I love you so much, and all I can do now is promise to spend the rest of my life, proving it'll never happen again.

“By the way,” I tried to ask casually, “how’d you find out about them anyway?”

Beth was absentmindedly rubbing her shoulder when that crooked little smile came out, and she laughed a little before saying sheepishly, “I guess, I've also been deceitful.”

“What'd you do?”

“I followed you one time.”

“When?” I asked, but kind of knew the answer.

“Right after I moved in.”

“Was that when we had that big fight?”

“You remember the fight, but do you remember what we fought about?”

“That stupid chair, that's still here by the way. You wanted me to get rid of it, and I won.”

“But, it's not in the living room anymore, is it? So, I won too,” and then she stuck her tongue out at me.

Jeez, how can you stay mad at someone like that? I know I can’t, and then she kissed me.

“I looked everybody up, including you, but I already knew most of it from Barry, except for Scratches. That was a big surprise.”

“I know. You wanted to shoot me, remember?” I asked, and before she could answer, added, “I also looked you up.”

“You bastard,” she said, hitting me with one pillow, and then the other.

I pretended to go flying across the room, slammed into the wall, and slumped to the floor unconscious, all in slow motion.

It almost made her smile.

“Why didn't you tell me that you knew about my secret friends?” I asked and got up off the floor.

“The same reason you didn't tell me,” she said, and then threatened me with another whack-attack, before continuing, “I was also afraid you’d want me to leave.”

I took a step back, “But, how’d you know I called them my secret friends? I don't ever remember saying that to you.”

“I heard you on the phone a couple times,” she said while putting the pillows back.

“You can sit back down,” she said and fluffed them up.

“Hmm,” I mumbled, and while watching her hands, sat back down.

“Back in the very beginning, it was only me, Pee Wee, Mouse, and Rico, a friend of theirs.

“Darryl didn't join us until the next year. The same year I met you.

“This is Rhonda’s first year. She’s my arch-enemy, by the way, but don’t ever tell her that. It’s a personal fantasy I’ve got going in my head, and she doesn’t know a thing about it. It’s nothing bad. It’s just my way of dealing with her crazy teenage crap.”

“She sounds adorable, but now I get to meet everyone, right?” Beth asked, and added hopefully, “Maybe, tonight?”

“Why not? There's no reason to keep you in the dark any longer.” I went over to my backpack and dug around inside, until I found what I was looking for.

“And, since you are now officially part of the Secret Team, that also means you'll need this,” I said while handing her a walkie talkie. “This is what I use to communicate with everyone else, while they're out patrolling with us.”

“And, you've been doing this without me, for how long now?” she asked while playing with her walkie, and while pressing the transmit button, added, “I thought we were a team?”

After a second, someone on the other end said, “Roger that,” and it sounded like Rhonda.

We both laughed.

“So, aren't you going to answer my question?”

“Of course, we're a team.”

“Not that one. The one before it. How long have you been lying about these secret friends of yours?”

“The Halloween I met you, was our second time. I already told you that. The patrols were Pee Wee's idea originally. I just organized them, well, Mouse did most of it, but I really don’t see how you can say I was doing this without you or lying about it.

“You were right there with me for almost all of them. I just failed to mention that there were other people doing this with us, and that’s not lying. It’s just a simple little communication problem, that we just fixed,” I said with a hopeful smile.

She wasn’t buying it, “So, the short answer is almost nine years.”

“Technically, it's eight years, because you can't count the year I met you, or the year before that either.”

“Whatever, Criminal. You've been doing this for eight years, let's agree on that, and you’ve been keeping me in the dark about all this secret stuff, all that time, right?”

She didn’t give me time to answer, but continued like she knew what I was thinking, “Even though I did know what was going on, technically, you didn’t know that I knew, and that’s what makes you guilty of, as you like to call it, a communication problem, or as I like to call it, lying.”

“Yup,” I said, giving it up, even though, I knew she was just as guilty as I was, “but now you aren't in the dark anymore, even though you obviously never really were, and I think this is all so exciting. I have so much stuff that I want to talk to you about.”

“Missing Persons?”

“Nailed it,” and that's what we went round and round about until almost eleven, when I tried to get just a few minutes of sleep.

Ten minutes after Beth woke me, we were on the road. The first thing I did was introduce Beth to everyone.

“Hi everyone.”

Everyone said hi back, and Mouse added, “It's about time.”

And of course, my arch-enemy had to throw her two cents in and agree with Mouse, “Yeah, it's about time, Criminal.”

“What do you care Runt?” I was blurting out before I could stop myself, and then went on lamely, “This is also your first time, and don’t forget to please say 'out' when you’re done, out.”

Beth then asked me, “Is that your arch-enemy Crim? Oops! Sorry.”

“Arch-enemy,” Rhonda laughed. “He should be so lucky.”

Holy crap, I thought, and immediately pulled over.

I know it’s such a petty-ass thing, but it still made me lose my concentration.

Except for when my impulses had control, being on patrol was the only other time I could easily do two things at the same time.

I could drive and block everything else out, except for my surroundings. I was acutely aware of everything around me and could sense when something was off.

I parked and waited, until I could get to that frame of mind again, and it wasn’t easy, but as usual, thinking about Bowser helped a lot.

Hopefully, you’ll meet him later.

While I was trying to do that, Beth took up the slack, and kept track of everyone for the rest of the night, and even though no one said, “out,” nothing got garbled.

The only thing that got garbled was when everyone laughed, and that’s only because, for some strange reason, everyone kept their mic on when they did it, including me.

I should've been mad, because Beth sounded like she was throwing a tea party, rather than concentrating on the patrol. I didn’t, because I knew that doing more than a couple things, at a time, was as easy as a sneeze for her.

I’ve seen her measure, tap, and administer a sedative, while talking on the phone with Barry, and telling me what was going on, and also what I needed to do to help.

When we were out on patrol together, I could sometimes sense something wrong a little quicker, but she was almost always pulling over, just as I was saying it.

I was lucky if I could do one thing at a time, let alone two, unless I was doing something impulsive, or out on patrol, but she was always like that, all the time.

She’s amazing.

Everyone got excited about Friday and asked her if I was crazy or not, like I wasn't even listening.

“I'm right here, out.”

“Oh, he's crazy all right,” Beth finally answered.

“Hello, I'm right here, out.”

“And, he also listens in on all my conversations with other people.”

Everyone laughed, and I had to admit, it was funny, so I laughed too.

Besides everyone ignoring me and only talking to Beth, it was a good night, because like the last five nights, we got a lot of false alarms, but nothing serious. All I had to do was confirm it.

Even with all that going on, I still got at least two hours sleep, before getting up early to go to work. I think it was two hours. It might've been a lot less. I'm not sure.

As soon as the alarm went off, I was up, and once again, Beth was already cooking breakfast, even though it was still my week to cook.

I brought it up, after eating half of it first, just in case she got mad.

“You do remember that this is my week to cook, right?”

“I know, and don't talk with your mouth full. It's disgusting,” she said, while shoveling food into her own mouth and also talking.

“I'm just so excited about that class today,” she told me, bits of food going everywhere, and then yawned, “but as soon as you leave, I'm gonna take a little nap. The class isn't until ten anyway, and I don't want to nod off. I don't think I’ll have to worry about that, but just in case, you know?”

“I wish I could join you,” I told her and took another sip of my coffee. The class she registered for in January was at night again, and that meant I could cover for her like I did before.

“If you need me, you know I’ll be there.”

“You even remembered the diagrams and stuff on the board. You were the best study buddy ever.”

“Thank you and wipe your mouth,” I said, and then added, “You're right. It is disgusting.”

She laughed, wiped her mouth, and then got serious.

“Even if I'm asleep when you get home, promise me that you'll wake me. I'm sure we'll both have a lot of news to tell each other,” she said, and then yawned again, “Sorry.”

“As soon as I get home,” I promised, and then before I left, reminded her about my meeting with Downtown D after work tonight.

“I don't want to know why. This is one secret I don't mind not knowing about,” she told me, and then added, “Just don't get too drunk, ok?”

“A couple shots and one beer, and that's it. As far as that other thing, if D can get me what I need, you'll know all about it Friday.

“And, to be perfectly honest, it's something I'd rather you didn't know about until then anyway.”

She said ok, then thanked me for being honest and keeping my drinking promise, and as far as that other thing, “See, I'm beginning to trust you again already.”

I laughed, gave her a kiss goodbye, and then took off.

I made it twenty-four minutes earlier than yesterday.

The door to the Secret Room was open, and the Cat was typing away. She didn’t stop for a second, but just said, “Sit down. I'll be with you in a second.”

She clicked on something, and then continued her story, “Like I was saying yesterday, something in the back of my mind was telling me not to talk to the day-crew, and I couldn’t figure out why, but I found out soon enough.”

“What was it?” I asked when she stopped.

“Remember that bloody bag from last month?”

“That was last week, but yes I do,” I said, and then realized what it was and added, “Oh shit!”

“Exactly,” she said, “Frankenstein and his two evil shitheads like to torture the mice before they put them to sleep.”

When mice were scheduled for termination, by law, it had to be done in twenty-four hours or less. Something to do with not wanting the mice to suffer anxiety while they waited, but I don’t know how true that was.

Sometimes, when the number of mice to be killed got too high, the independent labs got certified to help out, and obviously, Frankie’s was also one of them.

“My conscious mind wasn’t aware of it,” the Cat continued, “but my subconscious probably was and wanted to protect me from ending up the same way. I don’t know how, but it’s the only thing that explains it, especially after that first time.

She’d been up all night talking to her Cat buddies and was sleeping the morning away, “when something woke me up. I didn’t know what it was for a second, but then something drilled right into my brain, and it was so intensely painful, I almost screamed for it to stop.

“It sounded something like this,” she said and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Even though I couldn’t hear anything, something was making me feel uncomfortable and a little on edge.

“What the hell, Cat? I don’t hear a thing.”

“Really?” she said and opened her mouth, but nothing came out again.

“Still nothing but STOP IT! PLEASE!” I yelled, because it was still putting me on edge, and then added, “Maybe it’s too high for me to hear, but I can sure feel something, and it’s not pleasant either.”

“Maybe that’s what gets ‘em off?”

“Could be, but it certainly doesn’t get me off,” I said, and then remembered, “What stopped you from screaming?”

“I might’ve fainted a couple times, but what really stopped me was when I saw where it was coming from,” the Cat said and got a really angry look on her face.

“They were putting a bloody mouse in a plastic bag and zipping it closed, and the scream got muffled a little. I could see it still moving inside the bag, but they didn’t care. All they did was make jokes and laugh uproarious as it suffocated to death, and then Frankie looked at me and smiled.

“It chilled me right to the fucking bone, and I am so fucking glad that I listened to that little voice in my head.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t type something out for them to read,” I said, remembering that the Cat could type before she could talk.

“God damn! I’m so glad I didn’t think of that!”

I wanted to know more about Frankie and his two dip-shit torturers, but she waved me off, “After you get me out of here.”

I reluctantly agreed, and she continued with her story.

“That's when I started calling them Frankenstein and his two evil assistants, because they're just plain evil. Actually my two buddies gave me that one, but it doesn’t matter, because after that, there was no way in hell I was gonna talk to those fucking shitheads.”

“What about the night-crew? Why didn't you talk to them, at least tell them what Frankie’s doing?”

“I can't take that chance. They might tell Frankie, and then I’d be the one screaming, and it was like hearing someone falling to their death, except it went on and on and on and on... OH MY FUCKING GOD!!”

“I get the picture Cat, and I can certainly understand. If you say something, you’re dead, and if I say something, not only do I get fired, but you’re still dead. It’s frustrating.”

“Don't I know it,” AmyStrange said, “but I’ll be out soon, so it don’t matter.”

“But, what about all those mice that Frankie gets to torture after you leave? The people here need to know about that.”

“I don’t know,” she said, but I could still see a worried look on her face. “As soon as I get out, we’ll send them something anonymous.”

“That won’t work. That’ll lead them right to our door, and that’ll just put you back here.”

“I’ll get my Cat buddies to do it. They’re pretty resourceful.” she said thoughtfully.

“That might work,” I said, but didn’t know if it really would.

We sat there for a few seconds in silence. I don’t know what the Cat was thinking, but I was thinking about all those tortured mice.

“The computers were a breeze to figure out,” the Cat said slowly, finally breaking the silence, “but learning to type was no easy task, let me tell ya,” she said, with what can only be described as Cat pride.

She was sitting on the edge of the desk, like a God, surveying all her sniveling subjects, like all cats tend to do, but this one could talk.

“How’d you figure the door out?” I asked.

“The program that works it can be put in Emergency Status. That opens them and keeps them open. The only glitch was if I did that, it was also programmed to alert security, and that wouldn’t be a good thing.

“My cat buddies helped me to figure it out, though, and it was so simple, I couldn’t believe it.”

“What’d you do?”

“Like I said, it was simple. Since the door is directly wired into that computer,” she said and pointed to the one sitting on the desk that was nearest the vent, “all I had to do was turn its wi-fi off, then put it into Emergency Status, and the door would open, but the computer had no way to contact security, so problem solved.

“Someone should fix that.”

“Clever,” I said in admiration.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“If you can do shit like that, why don’t you just walk out of here? Why do you even need us at all?” I said and knew that I was walking on shaky ground, but I still had to know.

“I mean, you obviously can get stuff in and out of here, and by the way, how do you do that anyway?”

“The problem isn’t getting out,” the Cat explained, “It’s what do I do, once I do that? Where do I go, and how do I get to my buddies, and then get them out? I need a place to hide out, at least, until I can figure out how to get those things done.”

“Why me?” I asked, remembering that question about Mr. Ed.

“I heard you talking to that woman, Allie, right?”

“Alicia.”

“I looked you up, and all that stuff on the bridge was easy to figure out,” the Cat said, and then added, “As far as getting stuff in here, that’s easy. My friends have it sent to the One-Star guy. It’s marked confidential and always in a red envelope. Those are for me and are put in with all the others in that cubby hole,” she said, pointing to a dozen of them near the door.

“I grab it, before that Captain picks up all that other stuff.”

That made sense, but I still had to say it, “We could go to jail for this. You know that, right?”

“True,” the Cat said thoughtfully, “but I’d get worse. I’d end up back here, and Frankie will not be happy. I’ll be lucky to survive the week.”

I remembered the bloody bag, the screaming mouse, and that made me mad.

“Don’t worry. No one’s gonna hurt you. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Thank you,” she said, and then went on about how it took her two weeks to learn how to use her claws to type. At first, she kept hitting two, three keys at a time.

“The lock on my cage was easier to deal with than this shit,” she complained, but then found out about the on-screen keyboard and used that instead.

After that got tiring, though, she decided it was time to bite the bullet and learn how to type with her paws. “It was grueling, but I finally did it, and all in two weeks. Is that good?”

“How many words a minute can you type?”

“I'm not sure. Let's see,” She set a timer and started typing.

Even before half a minute had passed, she’d already typed over forty words, but as I started reading it, “What the hell is this?!”

I read out loud some of what she’d written, “'All humans must die.' What the hell is that all about?”

“It's true. But, I'm going to have to stop there and promise to tell you the rest of it tomorrow.”

“What!” I protested, “You can't just leave something like that up in the air.”

“I can, and I will. Get out of here right now,” she looked at me menacingly, and then I remembered what she’d written, “All humans must die.”

I looked at the clock, and she was right anyway. I was five minutes over my time limit, and once again, I was running to catch up, and once again the day dragged on like molasses trying to go up hill, but it wasn’t even trying today. It just sat there, and the clock didn’t even move for what seemed like an hour.

I tried to ignore it and spent my time racking my brain for a way to tell someone about Frankie without getting the Cat killed or me fired.

Unfortunately, my fantasy world was no help at all. The best it could do was Beth blowing the door open with a shotgun, while I dragged Alicia and Sherrie in to show them the evidence.

Yeah, that would work.

Seconds turned into minutes and hours turned into days, but luckily, at lunch, I was able to check my phone, and saw that D had sent me a text.

"What do you want?" was his short reply. That was code for me to call him up on a public pay phone.

Those weren't as easy to find as they used to be, before everyone started carrying cell phones around, but if you knew where to look, they weren't impossible to find.

So, after reading his text, I went across the street to use the one at this coffee shop that turned into a bar after six. I liked the place. Beth and I even met there a couple times, before she moved in.

They were one of the very few businesses around, that I knew about anyway, that actually had a working public pay phone. It also had an honest to God booth to sit in, and folding doors you could close for privacy.

Once I got inside and closed the doors, I called D.

First, he made sure I was in a public, and I quickly described it to him, down to the folding doors.

I heard him whistle, “Damn, that's old school.”

Second, he wanted to know if this was social or business? I told him both, and he told me to give him a call, when I got to our usual meeting spot.

“I might be out, so keep trying until you get me.”

After what seemed like weeks had gone by, my workday finally ended, and I know the molasses thing isn’t true, but anyone who’s had to do real work for a living, knows exactly what I’m talking about.

The bar, Joe’s Tavern, was a place downtown that I’d been to many times before, including that night with Beth. It's where D hung out between jobs, as he liked to call them.

I knew the owner pretty well. He was also the only bartender there. His explanation was that he liked to keep expenses to the minimum, and sometimes I’d help out by take a shift when he had something important to do, or by just jumping behind the bar, when things got busy.

I never expected any money for it, because he was a buddy. Besides, I enjoyed it, and I didn’t get to do it very often anyway, especially since I met Beth.

Every time he tried to give me money, we’d get into this fake argument, but then I'd quickly give in, grumble, and hide the money some place, where he’d find it later.

Or, I’d keep buying beer after beer, tipping him five dollars each time, and that also fake pissed him off, because he knew my motto and couldn't refuse it.

Sometimes, I'd just keep buying drinks for everyone in the house until it was gone, and that fake pissed him off even more, and since it was fake, he'd have to follow it all up with a little show.

Now that I think about it, it’s a lot like what Beth and Barry did last Tuesday, except they didn’t look like they were faking it. She really didn’t like taking money for taking care of all her babies.

I think Joe appreciated my help, and also that I kept refusing the money, but that didn’t stop him from pretending that it really did piss him off anyway.

First, he'd thoroughly clean a shot glass, over and over, grumbling under his breath about my being a somabitch. After a couple minutes of that, he’d come over, slam the glass down in front of me, pour me a shot, and then forget to charge me for it.

He did that until he figured he didn't owe me anymore.

Even if I didn't come in for months, he'd remember. When I tried to pay for the drink, he’d pretend, quite convincingly I might add, that he didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Do you have a receipt for that?” he once asked me, and added with a sorry look on his face, “No refunds without a receipt, and you’d know that already, if you ever bothered to read what's written under the toilet bowl in the Men’s Room.”

“Joe, I don't want money from you, I want to give you money.”

“Oh, that's different,” he’d say and begin cleaning another shot glass. “Just refresh my memory. What do you wanna give me money for again?”

I pointed to the beer and shot, “These two and the other two I had earlier.”

“Oh, Ok, gotcha, one shot and beer coming right up,” he’d say, and then get me another shot and beer, and even put them right next to the other two that were already there. The ones I still hadn't touched or paid for yet.

He'd then excuse himself to go help someone else at the other end of the bar and forget to charge me for those two also.

I also had a tab, but he’d never let me pay it off. He wouldn't even tell me how much it was.

It was a long and on-going battle that I think is sometimes in his favor, and sometimes in mine.

I met both Joe and D one night, while I was still working for the Initiative group.

After a few drinks, and after I explained about the Initiative, I pulled out one of the spare signature sheets that I always kept on me, just in case.

Joe, the bartender, not only signed it, but also gave me two hundred dollars to help with the group's expenses.

When I asked D to sign it, he just slowly shook his head.

“People who hurt animals and children should be boiled alive,” he said, and then added, “I’ll be glad to sign.”

I got excited about that idea, but then was repelled, because that would mean me. I should be also boiled alive.

In a way, it did seem like poetic justice, and maybe that's what I really did deserve. Shit, that’s exactly what I deserved, but those thoughts disappeared when D handed me the thousand dollars and paid for what seemed like the next four dozen drinks.

Luckily for me, I didn’t drunkenly talk about what I did, but regardless, I was late getting started the next day. The folks at the Initiative group didn’t care, especially after I handed them the twelve hundred dollars from the night before.

When I walked through the door today, I didn't see D anywhere. I waved at Joe and asked if I could use the pay phone in the back. He gave me the ok sign, followed by two fingers. That meant, did I also want a shot and beer?

I nodded yes and went through the kitchen door to the back where the public pay phone was, right next to the restrooms and fire exit. I liked to use that one rather than the one in the kitchen.

I called D, and then gave him the code for where I was, "I’m at the House".

"I'll be right over," was all he said, and in less than two minutes, we were sitting down and doing the shot that I’d yet to pay for. Joe had forgotten to charge me again. I guess, he must still think he owes me money.

Maybe he’s right, but I didn’t care and hid a couple crumpled up twenties inside one of the clean glasses that were lined up in front of me.

D immediately drank his right down. His motto was, "Liquor first, then business.”

It really should be, "get liquored first," because he did six shots, before we even got down to business.

I downed my first one, while he did his, but nursed my second one.

He once told me, that's how he got into the right frame of mind, to do whatever he needed to do. After the sixth shot, and with a smile on his face, he finally asked, "Ok, what do you need me to do?"

After I told him, he laughed and laughed, and I almost thought he wouldn't stop, or even worse, have a heart-attack right there and die.

He laughed so hard and for so long, it also got everybody else going.

One thing about D was that he didn’t laugh often, but when he did, it was infectious, and it also got me going. Joe joined in, and that got everyone else in the bar going.

None of us knew what the hell we were laughing about, except D, and I'm not sure he knew either.

When I finally caught my breath, I whispered to him, "We're the only ones that know what we're laughing about, and I don't even really know what that is either," and that got us going again, and then everyone else.

A guy, I'd never seen before, came in, saw all of us pounding the bar and laughing our asses off, and I swear to God, literally ran back out the door.

That got us all going again, but at least now, everyone knew what the hell we were laughing about.

Finally, it stopped being funny, and we all went back to what we were doing before the laughter. Everyone bought me and D a round for giving them such a good laugh, even though no one else knew what it was about, except maybe D.

We gladly accepted, well, D did for me. He deserved it anyway, and we got back to the business at hand.

"I have to have this by Friday night, before midnight. Is that even possible, D?”

After he nodded, I lowered my voice and asked the money question, “how much is this going to cost?"

He shook his head a little, like he was still laughing and then looked to his right, and then back at me.

"For that? I'm telling you Captain, I haven't had a laugh like that in years, but still, business is business. I know a guy who knows a guy, who should be able to get you pretty close to what you want, even on such short notice.”

He sighed and with the best pretend reluctance I'd heard in a long time, added, “You know as well as I do, that on the way, a couple palms are gonna have to get greased, so let's say two hundred and call it even."

"Sounds good. What the hell would I do without you D? You remember where I lived right?"

"I have it burned into my skull. I'll have it delivered to you by Friday at ten, and don't forget to tell Beth that I still love her, even though she's still going out with your sorry ass."

D only met her that one time and kissed her. She didn't like that at all.

I didn’t like it either and even pushed him away, “What are you doing? She’s not like one of your girls, D.”

He apologized profusely, but I knew it was a ruse. He figured asking forgiveness was a whole lot easier than asking permission first.

That’s one of the reasons I didn't come down here as often as I used to, but he talked about her like they'd known each other for years.

After that, I had to leave and transferred all my drinks to D.

Before I could go, Joe motioned me towards the back. We didn’t go too far, but far enough so he could still see the register, and we could talk privately.

I figured this would be a good time to try and give him some money again.

He pretended not to see it, “That's not why I called you over, Crim.”

“Why? What's wrong Joe?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to see if you'd watch the store for me on Sunday, for a couple hours in the morning?”

“Sure, but I might have a Cat with me. One of our babies isn't looking too good, and I don't want to let her out of my sight this weekend.”

Joe knew all about my farm, and what I did there.

“Not a problem at all.”

“Ok then, here,” I said and handed him some money, “I won't do it unless you take this right now. You know my motto, the number one rule I live by. You can forget the rent, forget the electric bill, cable, and even forget to buy food, but never ever forget...”

Joe finished it for me while nodding his head in time with the beat, "...to take care of the bartender. Yeah, yeah, I know. You're a crazy man Crim, but how does Sunday morning at ten sound to you?"

I pushed the money at him again, and reluctantly, he finally took it.

I had one more errand to complete, and that was the phone store, and that’s where I found this dictating program.

After that, with a backpack full of goodies next to me, and happy as a peanut, I went straight home.

Happy as a peanut? I wonder what that’s supposed to mean?

When I came in the front door, something smelled heavenly, and then I saw Beth on the couch sleeping.

The little brat, I thought, and then laughed to myself, but lost my whole train of thought when a man came into the room dressed in a freakin' Tux.

He bowed and said, “Good evening Sir. Dinner will be served in an hour. Would you like a before-dinner cocktail while you wait?”

He then took the backpack out of one hand, my coat out of the other, and put them both in the closet.

That voice, that way of speaking, but it couldn't be. I looked closer, and sure enough, under that greased-back hair, and those big phony glasses, I finally found Darryl.

“Dr. D! What the hell, man? I thought you weren't coming over until Friday, seven o'clock, remember?”

“I do, and I'll be here, but you see, I have this, if you'll excuse the expression, sir, this gig planned for a couple weeks from now. I’m doing a dry run to get the kinks out, and cooking dinner was the least I could do for Beth’s help.”

I went into the closet, rummaged through my backpack and pulled out a CD.

“Everything smells like it’s going to be one hell of a great meal, but I just got this new dictating program, and I might not be down for a little while,” I said and then added, “but I'll definitely be down when I’m done with my first Journal entry.

“And, I need your opinion on something later, so I’m glad you’re here actually.”

“Thank you, I think. Just go along with all this a little while longer, ok buddy? Beth was kind enough to help me out. She's a wonderful girl, Crim,” and then added after a second, “Excuse me. She's a wonderful lady, sir.”

“Ok, but stop with all the sirs, please? That's gonna get annoying, real fast.”

“Beg your pardon, sir, but I have to do it, sir. It helps keep me in the right psychological frame of mind. It's crucial to the act, sir.”

“What act? What are you doing anyway? Playing a butler?” then I had to ask, “Who you to trying to con now?”

“Good question, sir, but the rest is on a need to know basis. You can write, in that Journal of yours, what you think I do, but not who I do it to, sir.”

“Fair enough,” I told him. “so, is that what you're doing? Pretending to be a butler, as part of some con?”

“This is more like a helping hand for a friend than a con, and being a butler requires a certain frame of mind, that requires me to think of you as my superior.”

“Yeah, that must be tough, especially since, if anything, you're my superior, and definitely not the other way around.”

“Beg your pardon, sir, but...”

“Stop it.”

“I'm sorry, sir...”

“Stop it. Please Dr. D, just please stop saying sir.”

“I hate to break character...”

“I'll tell you what. Let me get my Journal started, and then you can call me sir to your heart's content.”

“Dinner will be ready in an hour, and I'll call you then, sir,” he said, and then left the room.

I sat down on the new couch right next to Beth's head, fantasizing about what would happen if I sat right on her head. Would it snap? I violently shook that thought off, and then gave her a kiss.

That woke her, and she listened sleepily as I went on and on, for one full minute, about what the hell was she thinking.

“You don't even know the guy. That's all I'm saying hon.”

One full minute was usually how long she gave me before giving me the skeptic's treatment, but all she said this time was, “I like him.”

“Beth, that's not the point. You don't even know the guy, and you just invite him in to cook for us? I mean, don't get me wrong. I love the guy, you know, in a guy way. He's a great help to our group, but he's also a con man. He's not really a good guy.”

“I know, but I still like him, and smell that shit he's cooking. Oh, my Gawd!” and then she hit me, “And, who in hell are you to call someone a bad guy.”

“What do you mean you know!? How...?” I began to ask, while also rubbing my shoulder where she’d hit me.

“Bring your pigs back in the barn and simmer down for a minute,” she said, sat up, straightened her hair, and laughed, “I know, because he told me.”

I was instantly curious, “What'd you find out?”

“Well of course you know he's a con man, a cat-burglar, and also a jeweler?”

“Yeah, I know all that,” mostly from Detective Johnson, I thought to myself, and not from Darryl.

I sometimes say inappropriate things, at very inappropriate times, and Beth knows all about this, but was still shocked when I asked her, “Do you love him?”

“Good lord no. What are you stupid? I love you, you big-ass fucking asshole. It's why I want to marry you, not him.”

Then she laughed, “Let's just say we're both a couple of jealous assholes that'll soon be a couple of married assholes that won't have any more secrets between us. Now, tell me what happened today? And then, I'll tell you what I found out.”

“Later. I’ve got something that I’ve got to do first, sorry,” I said and showed her the CD. While she was reading the jacket, I continued, “but I do have to ask. Do you know what I do at those meetings?”

“Missing persons. We talked about that last night,” she said feeling my forehead with the back of her hand. “You should get some sleep. I'll wake you in an hour, we'll talk more then.”

I didn't correct her and went up the stairs to get my Journal started.

Like I explained at the very beginning, the instructions were gibberish, and I was forced to call my arch-enemy for help.

An hour later and right on schedule, Darryl announced to Beth that, “Dinner is now served, Miss Beth, and could you please tell the Master for me?”

From what I understand, he also added, “If he isn’t down soon, I’m giving all of it away to all my buddies in the barn,” and then left the room, because the help did not eat with the Master.

Instead of another room, he left the house entirely.

After Beth found me, and after I finished the 15th, I went looking for him, but first tasted some of his cooking, and Beth was right as usual.

It was fantabulous.

It took me more than a couple minutes, but I finally found him out in the barn, eating with the bunnies. I ordered him back into the house.

“If I’m the Master, why aren’t you listening to me?”

“I have to warn you, sir, that I learned how to box in the states,” he said, while taking a boxing stance.

“You are in the states, dumbass,” I said and laughed. I then turned to go back in but stopped and turned to make one final plea.

“I could still use some advice, if you’re up for it?”

“Is it about the Cat?”

“Yup.”

“Give me a minute. I think I've fallen in love with one of your bunnies here. Are these the ones?” He said while petting Grunt. I had told everyone at the last meeting about them.

“Yup. How long do bunnies live? Do you know?”

“That's a good question. You should look it up.”

I continued to the house, saying over my shoulder, “I should, shouldn't I.”

Looking something up usually meant that I’d pretend to forget, until I was bored out of my skull. Then, I’d do it, if I hadn’t really forgotten by then.

Beth was waiting for me, before beginning to eat, or so she said with one of those crooked smiles of hers, but I could see that her spoon had already been used. She was pretending to wait.

It was a stupid petty thing to think about, but that's what I do well. Not that I could blame her really, especially since I’d already had some myself. The food smelled like heaven, and from what I’d already tasted, was also from out of this world.

Now I knew what people meant when they said something smelled heavenly.

“Is he coming?”

“I hope so. He's making woo with one of our bunnies.”

“Woo, such a silly word,” she said with a giggle, but then got serious, “Ok, spill it. What happened today?”

I wanted to wait for Darryl, but that’s when he walked in, so I got right to it. Both of them listened in fascinated silence as I told them everything, especially about the typing test and what the Cat wrote.

I waited until the end to tell them about the scream, and Beth shuddered, but then asked what the Cat had typed.

“'All humans must die!'” I said, and then asked, “What do you think it means?”

Beth slowly shook her head, “I'd have to read the rest and put it in some kind of context. Maybe it doesn't really mean what you think it does.”

I’d rewound that part in my head, but that didn’t help. The only words I really focused on were those.

“I hope so,” I said doubtfully, and then asked Darryl what he thought.

He was leaning back in his chair, sipping a cocktail and shaking his head.

“I have to agree with Miss Beth, but I do have to add that if this is some kind of hallucination, than you’ve certainly out done anything I’ve ever heard of. What you’re talking about is, of course, impossible, but with this brand-new world of genetics, I'm not sure that's true anymore.”

That's when I told him the rest of it, about the smart phone, my credit score, and the debit card with ten thousand dollars on it.

He didn't know what to say about the debit card, especially after Beth told him about checking it out herself, but he did say, “If this is really an hallucination, than you should get some kind of psycho of the year award for this performance.”

He looked down at his fingers and did some quick calculations, before continuing, “I just don’t see a flaw anywhere in your story, but I’ve still got to meet Amy. I’ve got to see her with my own two eyes and hear her with my own two ears,” he said, and then wiggled them.

Beth and I both laughed, and when we were finished, I told him about the three hundred thousand dollars.

“If you're here Friday, I'll make sure you get some of that action.”

“If, it's not a hallucination.”

“If, it's not a hallucination,” I agreed and added, “unless I got three hundred thousand dollars stashed away somewhere, that I don't know about.”

“We'll know for sure Friday,” Darryl said, and then got thoughtful, “but why would you pay out three hundred thousand dollars for a Cat that didn’t talk?”

That was a good question, but before I could answer, Beth raised her glass and toasted, “To Friday,” and we all joined her.

“To Friday!”

I took a sip out of the after-dinner cocktail Darryl had concocted, and boy was it good, and complimented him on his bartending skills.

“Something I learned in Sweden,” he said, and then added, “and a few other places.”

That reminded me, and I asked, “What’d you learn in school today, hon?”

She smiled and said excitedly, “It was awesome, and I still remembered most of the material, but here's the best part,” she said, getting even more excited, “After class, I asked the teacher why animals couldn't talk.

“He started with it being one of the newest branches of science and also one of the fastest growing fields,” she said, “and then he went on and on about how fascinating the study of animal talk was. ‘Every bark and cheep meant something,’ he told me.

“He obviously didn’t understand what I meant, so I rephrased my question and asked him why they couldn’t talk like us.

“'Scientist are divided on this,' he said. Most of them believed that the problem was either conceptual, physical, or both.

“After listening to him go on and on about that for a couple more minutes, I asked, for the sake of the argument, let’s pretend that they’re smart enough to conceptualize like us? Could they then talk like us?

“He finally admitted that because it was such a highly controversial subject, until a non-human animal became that smart and did talk, no one had a clear-cut answer yet, but he did tell me that parrots and crows sort of proved it was possible.”

“I'll bet,” Darryl said. “I remember reading somewhere that it's mostly because of their lack of a highly sophisticated larynx and supple tongue,” he said as he stuck his tongue out, wiggled it, and then sucked it back in with a wet sound, while wiggling his ears.

That got us all laughing again, but I was also wondering how hard it’d be to pull someone's tongue out of their head. Would it just snap out, or would it come out stretchy like gum, and be hard to pull out?

“I also remember reading something like that,” I said, trying not to think about pulling someone's tongue out.

“Many of them can make the sounds, or mimic them, but only a handful can actually understand what is being said to them, and besides that gorilla that can sign, most of them are dogs.

“My favorite part was about a parrot. Alex, I think his name was. He had a vocabulary of over 150 words,” and also remembered something else that was a little sad.

“The last thing he was reported to have said before he died was, ‘I love you,’ to his trainer.”

“That’s sad,” Beth said, “but also kind of nice, ya know?”

“I do,” I told her, because that story hit me in the same way, but after looking at the clock, added, “but guys, I gotta finish my Journal, and then get a little sleep, before we start our patrol tonight.”

Darryl took the hint, and after we complimented him on the awesome dinner, he said his goodbyes and was gone.

I immediately went back upstairs and was actually able to catch up with a little time to spare.

I laid down on the bed, and Beth wanted to talk about Darryl.

“He was all greased up, wearing a Tux, and those big glasses,” she said, laughed, and then added, “Before I could think of anything to say, he announced that he was here to cook dinner and be our butler for a couple hours. I like him. He's funny.”

“Yes, he is,” I said, laying my head back on the pillow and closing my eyes to catch up on a little sleep.

Beth woke me a few minutes later, and we went out on patrol. She also had another tea party.

Still, six nights in a row with not one animal needing to be rescued, and believe me, that's awesome, but as usual, it wouldn't be official until I read the online newspapers and confirmed it.

When we got home, and before I went to sleep, I caught up with today, and everything is now up to date, and also up to the minute. Yay!

And now, I’m going to sleep.

CHAPTER 11

Thursday, October 30th (dictated 10:07 pm).

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I saw my pants and shirt hanging over a chair. I don't remember undressing, but I must've, unless Beth did it for me? But how? How did she do it without waking me? It’s not like I was drunk or anything, or was I?

That scared me a little. Someone could walk in here at any time and blow us both away, and I wouldn't even know it was coming.

Jeez! Like I need to invent more stuff to worry about, but thankfully, that's when Beth came in.

“Come on Sleepy Toes,” she said and tickled my feet. “Time to get your ass in gear and into the kitchen. I made breakfast.”

Then, she was gone, but not before giving me a wake-up kiss. That was nice.

Just as the smell of coffee and blueberries hit me, I jumped out of bed, shaved, took a quick two-minute shower, followed by ten seconds of ice-cold water, and that did it. I was now wide, the fuck, awake.

When I got to the kitchen, I gave Beth her kiss back and ate another great breakfast. I even compared it favorably with Darryl's gourmet feast from last night. She seemed pleased, but there was also something else there.

“What?” I asked her. “I know. It's my week to cook, and you shouldn't have to do it again...” I started.

“No, that's not it. I love cooking for you,” she said, and then added, “It's just that sometimes, I find it so hard to believe you could ever be so cruel as to do what you did. It's so off from who you are now, who I think you are, the guy I love.”

“I know,” I said and pushed my plate away. There was one more muffin left, but I was no longer hungry.

“There isn't a day, that doesn't go by hon, that I don't ask myself the same thing. I miss Scratches, Beth, and no matter what I do, or how many animals I help, I’ll never get her back. She’s gone forever, and it’s all my fault...”

“That's one of the reasons why I love you, Sleepy Toes,” Beth said, and then pulled me out of the chair, “because it also bothers you.”

She helped me with my coat again, and this time I didn’t fight her. I didn’t even realize she was also pulling me towards the door, until she pushed me and slammed it in my face, again.

I opened the door, and once again, there she was, waiting. She kissed me, and after catching my breath, I said, “We have to stop meeting like this.”

She giggled and pushed me out the door again, but this time didn't slam it in my face.

Twenty-five minutes later, I was standing outside the Oh Oh Room, wondering if today was gonna be the day this all turns out to be a dream.

Once I got inside, the door to the Secret Room was open, and the Cat was once again typing away at the computer.

Not today, I guess.

“All humans must die. What was that all about?” was the first thing out of my mouth.

“Oh that,” she said, fanning a paw in front of her like she was shooing a fly away. “I had to type something, so I used an article I read yesterday. I do remember that being at the end of it, though. Interesting that you should pick up on just that part. It was an article about the merging of robotics and organic memory.”

Curses, I thought, Beth was right. Again.

The Cat went on from there to explain how it took her a couple hours to figure out how to use a browser and connect to the internet.

Once she did that, she went looking for information on what the hell was going on here. She found the company website, and from there discovered chatrooms. A week later, she found her cat buddies, and from them got a couple links to the history of humans.

“How do you know they’re really cats?”

“Like you, I have to see them also, but they did send me some videos,” she said, and then paused, “They were ok, but they also looked too good. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do. Yours looked the same way, and everyone else said the same thing. It looked too real, too good.”

“There’s something cat-like about them, though, something I can’t put my claws on, but honestly, I don’t really care.”

“Where are they?”

“Don’t know. They won’t tell me until I’m out of here, but right now, that don’t fucking matter, because what does fucking matter is you people,” she said, stopped, and then pointed a paw right at me.

“You people are fucking sick! I’ve never read so much sick shit, and I really don’t know why your species isn’t already extinct...” she almost shouted at me and from there went on to explain the sick history of humans, according to AmyStrange, and I must admit that the evidence is overwhelming.

Even with just the stuff I already knew, humans were an evil lot, and that made me an enemy. I could understand where she was coming from, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

“Most of the animals, you people eat are kept in cages so small...”

I liked to eat meat, but I didn't like to think about how it got to my plate. “I know all about that, and yes, I’m a hypocrite, but not everyone is as bad as all that shit you’re saying, and besides, look at your own fucking species.

“Cats are considered, by a lot of people, to be the serial killers of the animal world. All the cats together kill billions of animals a year, including baby birds and mice.”

I immediately regretted saying that last part, because a really worried look came over her face.

All she said was, “I don't want to talk about that anymore” and I felt like I’d won something, but it was something lousy, like a year of wallowing naked through shit, on tippy toes, and also being more than happy to eat it, like chocolate cake.

Maybe that’s what they mean by being happy as shit?

Anyway, I decided to change the subject.

“How...” I started to ask about the lock on her cage, but as I looked closer, I noticed that it had a digital display and already knew the answer.

Instead, I asked, “How old are you? Do you know?”

“According to the computer records, my birthday was almost seven months ago. April first, to be exact.”

April Fool’s Day, that seemed appropriate somehow, but seven months to learn how to talk? How was that even possible? What am I talking about? How’s that more impossible than a talking Cat?

It made sense anyway, because she did look just like a little kitten would look.

“Are you going to be able to get in tomorrow night?” she asked with that worried look still on her face, like maybe she’d gone a little too far with her sick history lesson.

I didn’t care. We were an evil lot, no doubt, but it was definitely interesting to hear from a Cat’s point of view.

“Don't worry about me getting in,” I said and looked at my watch. “Worry about being ready to go at 12:15 am, Saturday morning. We should synchronize our watches,” I suggested, and we did.

“Did you talk to your cat buddies about Frankie and the mice yet?”

“Not yet, but I will. I promise,” she said, and that worried look came back.

She handed me six more debit cards with stickies attached to each one. On the stickies were the user IDs, and the four-digit pins for each card.

“Ten thousand more for you Criminal, because I know you gave Beth most of the last ten thousand, and ten thousand more for her, and another ten thousand each for Darryl, Pee Wee, Mouse, and Rhonda.”

I looked at each one before separating them with dollar bills again and putting them in my wallet. Each one had their real names.

“How...?” I started to ask.

Amy wasn’t listening. “I know I already explained this, but it’s worth repeating, because I know you’re worried about the mice.

“My friends are the ones who figured this out, and all I really know is the general theory, like I told you the first time, but what I do know makes some sort of stupid sense. Especially considering how evil humans are.”

Basically, when banks pay interest, they first calculate that interest out to four decimal places, but instead of paying the customer all four digits, they only pay the first two. The last two were deleted, but not really.

It still existed and because of that, and unless a customer made a request for it within a certain period of time, it became the bank’s property.

Even if a customer requested it, and even if it was a year’s worth, it would only be around six or seven cents, or something ridiculously small like that.

It really wasn't that big a deal when you were only talking about one customer, but when a bank had hundreds of thousands, or even millions of customers, that could add up to a couple thousand, or even a couple hundred thousand dollars, per bank, per year.

That’s a lot of money to be stealing from customers.

“My friends go in and hit twenty-five banks a month, making sure to hit different ones every month. They take twenty-five percent of that money, and then rewrite their books. From what they tell me, there are hundreds of thousands of banks in the world, and at only twenty-five a month, it'll take forever to get through all of them.”

That’s what I remembered seeing in that an old Superman movie with Richard Pryor. He was the computer tech who figured out how to do that very same thing, but ever since, I’ve always wondered if banks did that, and if they did, what could you do to stop them? Even after fifty years, all you’d get is four dollars.

Maybe it was true, or maybe the Cat didn't want to tell me the real story. Her friends were really bank robbers, and they were in prison, and that's who we were supposed to help escape.

I had to chuckle about that for a second. What an absurd idea, I thought, and that got me chuckling again.

“What's so funny?” the Cat asked.

“I was just laughing at the idea that your friends were in prison for bank robbery, and that's who you want us to help escape.”

“It's a reasonable assumption, I guess,” the Cat said after a couple seconds of silence.

“What does that have to do with the mice?”

“Nothing really. It just proves how resourceful they are,” she said but had that worried look again.

“And now, you have to go. Tomorrow we finalize the schedule, and then I'll be free! But now, you’ve got to leave.”

When I did, the door slammed shut behind me with an almost silent whooshing sound.

“I hope you’ve got a good plan,” I heard her holler through the vent.

“Roger that,” I said, and then went to my second room, cleaned it, and grabbed the frozen mice. The Oh Oh Room didn’t have any, but that wasn’t unusual.

After dropping them off in that freezer down in Shipping and Receiving, I had to run to my assigned station on the Clean-Side.

On the way there, I reminded myself to ask Alicia about that bloody bag from last week.

I saw her a few minutes later, and she told me the good news.

“I just found out, the board is going to investigate, and they’re suspending all euthanasia by them, until that’s completed.”

“That is good news,” I told her and couldn’t wait to tell the Cat tomorrow.

The rest of the day felt like the floor was flooded with an invisible liquid again. This time it was a foot thick, worse than the molasses, and almost impossible to walk through.

I was getting a lot more tired with each step, and it also felt like time was also getting slower and slower. After what felt like hours, I looked at the clock, but only a half an hour had gone by.

Don't you just hate days like that?

It did give me a lot of time to think about all the frozen mice from that room. I’ve gone over the last year with my eidetic memory, and I can’t seem to remember ever looking closely enough to notice if there was any blood at all, until last Thursday.

Finally, I got through the day and raced home to give Beth our two debit cards, but she wasn't there.

I only had to wait a few minutes, before she walked through the door and gave me a kiss.

“I was at the library,” she explained, “and I’m sorry, but there are still some things you can't find online.”

“Did you go to class today?”

“Yup, that's why I was at the library, libraries actually. The University Medical Library, and then the Law Library,” she told me while putting her coat away.

“After class, the professor gave me three references to look up. One of them was really sad, and I had to go chase it down in an old case law journal. That’s why I also had to go to the Law Library, but first, I gotta know what happened today.”

I handed her both our cards, “There's another twenty thousand, and it's all yours.”

She dropped them like they were on fire, just like I’d done that first time, and as she slowly picked them up, she gave me an anxious look, “Where in hell is a Cat getting all this money?”

“First, check them out, and while you’re doing that, I'll try and explain what I know about her buddies, and how they got the money. She explained it a little better today.”

She got on the computer while I did that and saw it was real. There really was ten thousand dollars on each card.

“That does sound like a plot from that Superman movie,” she said and handed one of the cards back to me, “and thank you for giving me your card, but it wouldn’t be fair if you only got five hundred dollars out of all this.”

I tried to argue with her, but her mind was already made up.

“Let’s do this. One card for you, one for me, and the third one is for household expenses, the one you took the five hundred from. How does that sound? Besides, don’t forget about the other seventy-thousand we got coming. You can give me all of that if you want.”

She was laughing, but I was serious, “If you promise to go back to college, you can have my share of that seventy-thousand, except for, you know, things like food for us and our babies, the mortgage, utilities, and one bottle of Jack a month for me.”

“I’d love to do that, babe, but who would take my place while I was getting my degree? Barry can only afford to pay so much for my help.”

“Listen Beth,” I interrupted her, “that Cat wants to pay us a lot more money to rescue her two buddies. The ones who gave us this money, and with that money you can pay someone to take your place. Someone who’s as good as you.

“You’ll have to do that anyway, if you want to come with us,” I said, but thought of something else.

“When we get back, and if the Cat and money are real, I won’t have to work, and I can go to college with you. I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer, but never thought I’d ever have the money or time. Now I will, hopefully, and if you have to miss some classes, I’ll be there to give you the dirt after.”

Beth was excited about us going to college together, but still looked a little skeptical, and I figured that now was time to hit her full force with her own psychology.

“Every day that you don’t become a Veterinarian is another bad day for the animals in the world. You know that, and you also know how over worked Barry is. He’s not young either. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having a full-fledged partner to help him out.”

Beth actually thought about it. That was a major win in my department, and with that win in the bank, I went on to explain my bank robber theory.

I thought I was being funny, but Beth didn't, “What if that's what we're really doing? We could go to prison for that or die. I don't want us to do it, if that's the case.”

“Don't worry, we won't,” I promised. A promise, I intended to keep.

“Besides, we’ll probably be too busy trying to stay out of prison for the Cat-napping, and besides that, who’d believe me about the money or any of this really?

“Oh, and by the way, a talking Cat is behind all of it. Go ask her yourself. I’m sure she’ll be happy to tell you everything she knows,” I said sarcastically, and then added, “I almost want it to happen, just to see what happens.”

“That’s true. I keep forgetting about that, but just because we do one illegal thing doesn’t mean we should do two of them. It just ups the chance that we’ll get caught. It’s why I want to come with you, because as soon as I don’t see a talking Cat, we’re out of there. Agreed?”

“Agreed but think about this for a minute. Is it really illegal to take someone, if they want to go with you? I really don’t see the illegal intent here.”

“We’re stealing shit from the government, babe, I don’t think they’ll care about intent,” Beth said, and then added, “but you still make a good point. Got anything else to back it up?”

I smiled because debating legal arguments with Beth was the only time I ever won consistently with her.

“Let’s flip that whole legal theory around and instead of asking if we have the right, let’s ask if the government has the right to hold a person against their will, especially if they don’t have a good reason?

“If the Cat can really talk, then in my opinion, that also makes her a person, and that gives her the same rights afforded all Americans, including the right to due process before being incarcerated.

“Throw in all the Good Samaritan laws, and because she’s in danger, not only do we have the right, but we also have the legal obligation to rescue her. It also gives us the right to do this secretly and not tell the government, because they’re the ones trying to hurt her.”

“I'm sure the guys at Gitmo will be glad to hear that,” Beth said with a smile, but then nodded her head thoughtfully, “I have to agree with most of your logic, and I think you’ll make a great lawyer too, babe, but that still doesn’t mean we should do the second one, just because morality’s with us on this one,” she added.

“Of course, none of that matters if you’re hallucinating this whole fucking thing, but I don’t even want to go there. You believe it, and that’s good enough for me.”

I had to agree, but also wondered why she believed me about a talking Cat, but not about the garbage last night?

“We should at least check the second one out, especially for a half a million dollars,” I said to get my mind off garbage, and then asked, “What about you? What’d you learn in school today?”

“I’m telling you Crim, I’m liking your idea of going back to college, especially after what I did today,” she said excitedly. “It doesn’t help us any, not really, but it was still very interesting.”

She had to go to the Medical Library to find the first two references. One of them was from an obscure German textbook, “that I finally found deep down in what they call the Cellar. I couldn't take it from the room, but I could read it there. It was published in 1829.

“I had to use a translator site to read it.

“It was about this magical cat that could talk. It didn't have anything else, just mentioned the cat, that it could talk, do magic, and then went on to something else.”

“Interesting, but like you said, not really helpful.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” she said thoughtfully, “but it still has to make you wonder if maybe the genetics of cats has been modified before, except by nature itself, instead of humans, but none of those mutations survived long enough to reproduce.”

“Or, maybe they did survive,” I said, just to disagree with her, “but they’re all pretending they can’t, until they take over the world.”

“Do you even listen to yourself sometimes?” Beth said with a smile, while rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

“Anyway, the second reference was the same general kind of story. A quick mention of a cat that could talk and also cast magical spells, but nothing else. That one was published in 1834, but the legal case is the most interesting of them all and the oldest.”

“You like all this research stuff, don't you?”

“I love it, but like I was saying earlier,” she said and gave me her sad look, “the legal reference was also the saddest.

“It doesn't really have anything to do with any case that was decided in a court of law, at least not officially. It's from some Journals that a rich guy, from Boston, had donated to the University.

“They were all written around the 1750s, long after the Salem Witch Trials, but one of them references it.”

“What's this reference about, if it's not about a legal case?”

“It's hard to explain, but apparently the Journal entry references this trial that was supposed to have occurred during the other Witch Trials.

“I wrote an essay in high school about them and also did a lot of research, but this is something that I'd never heard of before.”

“What was the trial for?” I asked.

“Apparently, a secret trial was conducted to convict a cat of witchcraft, because a half-dozen witnesses were willing to testify that the cat could talk. The cat was either unwilling to talk or unable to talk, and she was convicted and hanged.

“Apparently, at the last minute, the cat began to beg for her life, but they hung her anyway, and while she was choking to death, they set her on fire.

“How can people be so fucking cruel?”

“There are a lot of people out there like me hon, but why do you keep saying apparently?”

“Because like the German textbook, I wasn't actually able to read the Journal itself. It's in French, which was odd, because the Librarian who showed me where the Journals were, also told me that the guy who donated them, didn't speak a word of it. I had to translate it all with the same site.

“It also took a while, because I had to figure out the handwriting first, but the Librarian helped me out by making huge copies of the two pages that mentioned the talking cat. She even highlighted the French phrase for talking cat.

“Her name was Sabrina. Isn't that funny?”

“The Cat?”

“No, the Librarian.”

I didn't think it was that funny, but I did give her a sort of half chuckle like a doufus would, well, maybe it was a little funny.

But that encouraged her, and she continued, “Anyway, she wants to meet me there at lunch tomorrow, and help me read through those Journals again.”

That sounded like an excellent plan, and I told her so, then excused myself to go upstairs and dictate today’s Journal entry.

Now that I’m done doing that, I’m gonna catch a couple winks, and then get ready to go out on patrol with Beth and our Top-Secret Rescue Team, or OFU to all you other criminals out there.

CHAPTER 12

Thursday, October 30th (dictated 2:32 am, Oct 31).

I woke up a little before eleven, guzzled down a cup of coffee, and off on patrol we went.

Everyone had another little tea party, and like the other two nights, Beth was also at the center of this one.

I loved it and had to laugh, because keeping all this secret, for all that time, seems so stupid now.

Usually, I had a hard time doing two things at a time, but these patrols, and the ones Beth and I did every night and weekend, were the exception.

I could think or talk about other stuff and still be aware of everything around me and react if anything was out of place or just didn’t look right. I also replayed it the next day while mindlessly dumping or unloading cages, just in case I missed something.

The only exception to that exception was when Beth let the arch-enemy thing slip. I almost lost my ability to concentrate with that one.

Luckily, after Beth let that one slip, no one brought it up again, not even Rhonda.

She made up for it, though, by laughing at everything that Beth said about me. Occasionally, after catching her breath, she’d add, “What a dumbass,” and that would get everyone going again. I even chuckled sometimes, because her timing, and the way she said it, was funny.

Mostly, I was just so relieved, and happy, that Beth liked my friends, and they also liked her.

I could see that these annual patrols, now that she was officially part of the team, were never going to be the same, and that was definitely a good thing.

I looked at the clock, and it was now only a few minutes away from midnight. Halloween would soon be here.

Even though Christmas was my favorite holiday, Halloween was pretty damn close.

That was mostly because of all the scary movie marathons, but also because of the new ones that came out.

The only thing I didn’t like about Halloween was the animal abuse, and that reminded me of that fateful day in the library.

I consider it our first secret meeting, even though, at the time, it really wasn't secret, because this was a year before I met Beth.

This one wasn't even planned. It was more like a surprise reunion between Pee Wee and I.

This was ten years ago, the day before Halloween, on a Sunday. I was in the library doing some research about Halloween related animal abuse, and that's when I saw Pee Wee sitting in front of one of the microfilm projectors that were lined up across the room from where I was sitting.

Finding out what I’d done, really ruined our friendship, and when I saw him, I wondered how this would go. There was no question I was going over, but would it be worth it?

I went over to say hi, and he was glad to see me, “What the fuck dude? You don't call or come over anymore. What happened?”

“Life happened,” I said and added, “besides, last I heard, you were driving sixteen-wheelers out west somewhere.”

“I was, and I was thinking...” he hesitated, and I could feel it coming. Another friend lost for good.

“Actually, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since that night, and I’m not going to apologize for getting mad. That’s a horrible thing to learn about your best friend, Crim. You can understand that, I hope?”

Here it comes, I thought, “Yeah, actually, I can. Well, anyway, it was nice seeing you again...”

“Where the hell you going,” he said, and I closed my eyes and waited for him to hit me, but instead, he laughed and hugged me.

“I’ve been gone for five years, and all I get is how ya doing? What’s up with that?”

I opened my eyes, and he was studying me, “Listen, I know we haven’t really hung out since that night, and it’s really taken me a while to wrap my mind around what you did, but the strangest coincidence happened.

“I ran across Barry a couple months ago, and he told me everything. The farm and what you’ve been doing. Everything. I have to say, I’m pretty damn impressed.”

“Considering what I did, I still wish, that I could do more, but you really should come out and see it for yourself,” I said, and then looked around with what I hoped was a bewildered look.

“I thought you hated libraries?”

“I do, but I’ve been pretty busy myself. I was driving the big rigs out west, like you heard. The LA to Vegas route, and I liked it, but after a while, Vegas got to me and driving through LA. That was murder, but I also ran across Mouse again. You remember her?”

“Oh yeah, I do remember her, small girl, right?” I asked rhetorically, because she was small, about five feet or something, maybe.

What a pair they made, but they were so good together, and next to Beth, she was one of the nicest people you could ever want to meet.

“We got married a couple years ago, in Vegas of course. Then, we came back here and started our own Cab Company. We both drive, but I do the mechanics, and she does the books. She’s got an MBA. Can you believe it?”

“What a sight you two must've been. Gawd, I would’ve paid good money to be a fly on the wall at that chapel! And now you have your own Cab Company. Wow! You’re all grown up, Pee Wee. I'm impressed.”

He also told me a little more about their company. Except for a driver that worked for them every now and again, overhead was low, because they were the only employees.

“We're not doing that bad either,” he said proudly.

It was just like the old days, and that felt good, but I still had to ask again, “I thought you hated libraries?”

“Yeah, I still do, but we're putting together our family tree, and I'm looking up some obits and birth notices from our families.

“You wouldn't believe the amount of information you can get off those things. It's just that sometimes it takes a long time to find anything, and that part makes all this boring as hell, but Mouse is really into it.

“Finding something almost makes it all worthwhile, because I like how her eyes light up when I tell her about it,” he said with a small smile on his face, but then stopped.

“This part is still boring though,” he said and turned the knob that advanced the microfilm to the next frame.

“But, enough about me. What are you doing here?”

I told him that I was looking into Halloween related animal abuse cases.

“Halloween's also this Monday, tomorrow,” Pee Wee said thoughtfully. “I remember, a couple of years ago, reading the same kind of article. Have you thought about going on some kind of special patrol for that night? I'd be happy to help out.”

“No, I hadn't actually,” I said, but the more I thought about it, and the more Pee Wee and I talked about it, the better it got.

I was already doing one anyway but having someone else help out made so much sense, that we decided to go for it.

The next night, we met at his house, about seven, and I got to see Mouse again.

“I think what you've been doing on your farm is so beautiful, and what you guys want to do tonight, I wish I could come along, but this is a big night for us, even though it's only a Monday.” She then turned to Pee Wee, “Rico’s gonna come in and help out.”

“Rico's a good man. I appreciate this hon...” Pee Wee started to say, but Mouse interrupted him, gently putting two fingers on his lips.

“Shush. We already talked about this. This is definitely as important as making money. Besides, you guys haven't had a chance to hang out for a while, and I've always liked the Criminal, despite your name.”

She went on and on like that for a couple minutes, and then went logical on us.

“When I’m not busy with a fare, and while you guys are patrolling outside the city, I’ll be doing downtown. I’ve also got a route all figured out. I’ll start on First, and then zig-zag up to Fourth, and finally up to Seventh Avenue. After that, I’ll circle the city, and start all over again.”

“Good idea,” Pee Wee said, and then added, “and here's another one. I got our spare cab running this afternoon. I'll use that, and if I get waved down, I’ll also be able to make us some more money, on top of what you and Rico bring in.”

“I like that,” Mouse said.

We then got out some maps, and the area we were talking about was huge. My daily patrols didn’t even come close to covering that much area, or even a small part of it. I usually drove around the back roads near my farm.

Pee Wee decided to do the northern part, because that's where he grew up, and I took the south. Even cut in half, the area we had to cover still looked huge. This was going to take more than three hours, that's for damn sure, but that first year, nothing happened, or so we thought.

The next day, I found out that five black cats had been found hanging in a tree, not too far from where I started my patrol.

That's why I was never satisfied with just a quiet night. I also had to do a newspaper search the next day, and the day after that, and also replay it again at work, just to make sure.

All day, that's all I could think about, those five black cats, and even though the Darkness didn’t attack me full force, the depression was bad enough.

That night, I needed someone to talk to, so I went over to see Pee Wee and Mouse. I let them tell me their good news first.

Mouse started it off by explaining that, “Even Rico wanted to help patrol, so he did a route that mirrored mine, and I didn't think of it at the time, but both our routes hit all the downtown bars. I ended up driving the same people all over the city, all night long, and so did Rico.

“The fares weren't big, but the sheer number of them, and the tips, sure made up for it.

“All total, we both made almost a couple thousand dollars, in one night! That's huge for us, and doesn’t even include the tips, plus the two hundred you pulled in hon puts us over two grand. It's the best night, we've ever had!”

“And it was a Monday too,” Pee Wee added, “and Mondays are never a good night for us.”

“Some people, I guess, don’t like to let a good drinking holiday go to waste, even if it’s a Monday,” I said, and then told them about the five black cats, and apologized for bursting in on what should’ve been a happy occasion for them.

I said my goodbyes and headed for the door.

“Where the hell you going?” Mouse asked, and then jumped right in front of me, as I reached for the doorknob. “You leave right now, and I promise you, I'll fucking punch you out. Now, you sit right back down there, and let's look at this logically.”

I looked at Pee Wee, and he said, “You'd better sit down, Crim. You might be able to shake off her right, but her left will sit you down anyway.”

I sat down.

I'm glad I did, because Mouse had thought about our problem with that logical mind of hers, and the first thing she commented on was how unorganized we were.

“You were surprised at how much area you had to cover weren't you?” she asked, looking right at me, and I had to agree with her. I remembered thinking that it was huge.

“You need to figure out a way to narrow that much area down to...” she turned and pointed to Pee Wee.

“Hot spots,” he said proudly.

“Hot spots?” I asked.

Mouse explained that what we needed to do was figure out, in advance, where the hot spots were. That was way easier said than done, until Mouse made a comment that got me thinking.

“Too bad there wasn't any place you could get some kind of numbers to help you predict where next year's hot spots were going to be.”

“Animal abuse cases, that's the numbers we need, but where would we get those?” I said, catching on quickly.

“Wouldn't the police have those?” Pee Wee asked.

“They might,” I said, thinking that I should call them tomorrow, but Pee Wee and Mouse had computer access to the web, and that helped cut down the research time.

Mouse, who had more experience with computers, did the search, and after a couple dozen clicks, found a website that kept an archive of animal abuse cases from all over the country. It was broken down into states, and then counties.

She found twice as many reports from that site, then we got from the police and animal welfare reports, combined.

“When I’m working downtown, I don’t see a lot of missing pet posters, except every once in a great, great while,” Mouse said thoughtful, and then asked me, “how about when you're out on your daily patrols? How many do you see?”

That switched another light on in my head, missing pets!

“I see a lot of them. Sometimes they come in batches and sometimes those batches move around, but a weekend or day don't go by that I don't see at least one, somewhere. I should keep track of that.”

Those numbers, along with the numbers Mouse got from that animal abuse website, helped give us a general idea, where the hot spots were, and where we should concentrate our patrols next year.

After thanking Mouse and Pee Wee for their help, I went home and looked through the newspaper for computer deals. I wasn’t as good at this computer stuff as Mouse was, but I had used them before.

A few days later, I got one, and after a couple more days, finally got it online.

Once I did that, I immediately went to the search engine that Mouse had used. They offered a whole slew of services, if you got an account with them.

The account was free, and one of those services was a kind of newspaper clipping service. It was similar to the old school clipping service, except they were electronic links instead of newspaper clippings. Click on the link they sent you, and an online news article would pop up.

After creating an e-mail account, I learned how to write html, and used another of their services to set up a simple missing person website.

The clipping service was an interesting adventure. All it needed was a keyword, or keywords, and then it would search through thousands of online English language newspapers from all over the world.

It did this continuously, until it found an article that had a word that matched my keyword, or keywords, and then, it would send me a link to it in an e-mail.

The first and only keyword that I ever used was “missing”.

Almost immediately, I started getting e-mails. One every fifteen minutes, and every single one of them contained not just one or two links, but dozens of them.

Most were repeats, but a lot of them were also new.

A really small number were missing pet related, but what really surprised me was that most of them were about missing persons.

Most of the missing pet articles weren’t local, but every month or two, one would be from our state.

It wasn't much, but it did help add to the numbers that we needed in order to predict where the hot spots would be.

It didn't take long before those e-mails began running into the thousands, and that's when a theory began forming in my head, especially since most of the links were about missing persons.

If we found out that our hot spot numbers were accurate, why couldn't we use missing person reports, in the same kind of way, to also help us find serial killers?

Like I explained earlier, we still haven't figured out how to do that yet, but what made it more plausible was what happened when we did our second Halloween patrol.

Beth and Darryl were chatting back and forth about guns, and that reminded me about how I met him.

On the fourth Sunday of every month, after our first patrol, I’d call Pee Wee for a taxi ride to the library.

After finding a parking spot, he’d join me inside. While he used the microfilm projector, we’d talk about our last patrol, our next one, and also about missing persons in general.

At those first secret meetings, I bounced ideas off Pee Wee, and he’d take them apart.

Mouse, who joined us for our first couple meetings, came up with a couple organizational suggestions that helped put my theory into a much better scientific kind of format.

She suggested I file each article under different keywords like date, location, age, and sex. It wasn’t much, but at least it was a damn good start.

The trick, after that, was figuring out what the other keywords were that would help prove my theory, or as Darryl explained earlier, a good fluid profile.

After those first couple times, Mouse decided to do the books at home instead. “It’ll be quiet, and I can get a lot more done. Besides, some of the sick shit you guys talk about... Jeez Criminal! Where the hell do you get all this shit from anyway?”

Obviously, Pee Wee hadn’t told her about what I’d done, and I wasn’t about to correct the situation. Like I said before, it changes people.

I just shrugged my shoulders and told her honestly, “I don’t know where it comes from. It’s just there.”

She just shook her head, and after that, Pee Wee and I were the only ones at those first secret meetings, except when we needed her opinion about something.

A couple months before our second Halloween patrol, I called Pee Wee for a cab ride to the library.

After picking me up, he asked if I minded sharing a cab with someone who was also going to the library. “Save me a little on gas, you know.”

I had no problem with it, so Pee Wee drove a few blocks out of the way to pick this dude up that was dressed up like he was a lawyer, or something successful like that.

He got into the back seat, and Pee Wee introduced him simply as Darryl.

“No last names, please,” the dude named Darryl said, but added after Pee Wee introduced me, “At least, not yet anyway.”

He then offered to shake my hand, “I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Criminal.”

That sounded weird, I thought, as I shook his hand. “You can just call me Crim if you want. Now, who are you, and why should I care?”

Darryl laughed, “You get right to the point don't you? I like that.”

Pee Wee said from the front seat, “I just had this feeling that you guys should meet. I've known Darryl, for God knows how many years. Long before I met you Crim. He wants to help.”

That's how I met Darryl, and also how he started joining us at our monthly meetings. He even helped us with the Halloween patrol that year.

An extra set of eyes was always appreciated.

When Darryl saw our wall map, he was wowed by how much work we’d put into it. It was where we plotted our numbers, down to the specific address that was associated with each one.

He caught on quick and even pointed to one section of the map and said, “that particular area just jumps out at me, for some reason.”

Some areas got maybe one hit every year, sometimes two, but this one area had more than double that, five cases of animal abuse, and another one that was fatal.

A small dog had also been burned alive while it was tied to a tree with barbed wire, and it wasn’t that far from where the five cats had died either.

When we added in the missing pet posters, that area had at least two different ones up almost every other month.

This area was a big-time hot spot for us.

What happened to those five cats and that small dog hit us hard. We all agreed that while we were out on patrol, we’d each take the time to drive by that area at least once, if not more than once. Even Mouse promised.

By the second Halloween patrol, with Pee Wee's help, I’d equipped all our cars with high definition dash cams that each driver could monitor from any car. It was also recorded and immediately saved on an off-site server.

That off-site server was also monitored by a security service, that I paid big bucks to not only monitor our cams, but also our GPS locations and radio chatter.

In case, we got into trouble.

They knew exactly what to do if anything crazy happened, and since they were local, that also included coming to the rescue with guns a blazing. A couple guys there were even former FBI.

That’s also when we put in all those other goodies in my Nova, like that little device that hid my license plate.

James Bond would love my car, and I know I said that before, but it definitely bears repeating.

Anyway, that second year, Darryl drove the second car I owned, because it had the dash cam, and all that other stuff.

That one’s a big old black Lincoln.

Beth drives it now, when she’s driving these patrols, or her car was in the shop.

That second year is when I saved one female black kitten from being burned alive.

It's also when I met Beth.

After finishing my first loop, I announced over the walkie that I was going to make a run to that area where that small dog and five cats had been found.

I was about a quarter mile away when I ran across a light in the woods.

I turned my lights off and drove slowly through the trees towards the light. I almost hit a tree, when I saw two teenage boys had a kitten hanging by the neck from a low tree branch.

One of the boys was hitting the poor thing hard with a stick, and the other was wetting her down with something.

I hit the gas and drove right in between them. They scattered into the woods. I immediately climbed out the window, onto the roof, and cut the poor kitty down. She reeked of gasoline, but I didn’t care.

She gasped for air and was also shaking like a leaf, probably scared out of her mind. She scratched the hell out of my hands, but I didn’t even notice it at the time.

I started to wrap her up in a blanket, that I always carried in the back seat. She howled with such pain, that I stopped trying to wrap her and just put her on the back seat, as gently as I could and called Barry.

He couldn't come that very minute, but he’d get a hold of his assistant and send her out immediately.

That assistant was Beth.

She was there in under two minutes. “I'm sorry it took so long,” was the first thing she said and ran by me to take a look at the kitten.

I followed right behind her, and after a couple seconds, she looked over her shoulder, and with that crooked smile of hers, I think she said, “We might be able to save her, I hope.”

I watched her as the next thing she did, before she did anything else, was give the poor thing a sedative, while also sending Barry a text for permission, and also telling me to get another blanket from her back seat.

I forgot all about the blanket on my roof, and almost ran to get the one she wanted.

She knew her stuff, was very professional, and could handle almost any situation until Barry arrived.

Since most of her part-time work was in rural areas, she was not only allowed to carry medicine, but also a gun.

I'm not a big fan of guns, but like I explained earlier, Beth certainly was. She also had a permit to carry concealed.

She also knew a lot more about guns than I did. I knew enough not to shoot myself, if I was lucky, but she knew how to take a lot of them apart, clean, and put them back together again, blindfolded.

I’ve seen her do it, and that also included the gun she carried with her everywhere, even to bed.

Didn’t we already do this?

Anyway, after giving the kitten a sedative, she took the blanket I’d gotten and very gently wrapped her in it. The kitten even tried to lick her hand, as she continued to check her little head for more damage.

While doing that, she told me that, “Both her hind legs are broken, and one ear is almost sliced all the way through.”

She tried to act and sound professional, but I could see she was crying as she checked the kitten's other ear, and neck.

“Fortunately, the ligature burns are mostly superficial and will heal in time, but right now they’re still very painful to her.”

I couldn't stop myself from crying either. Poor kitty. I didn't have to ask what was wrong with people like that, though, because I was someone exactly like that.

Beth called Barry, and they talked for a few minutes, before she told me, “We should bring her to Barry, but your farm would be better, because it's closer. The less we drive, the better it’ll be for the kitten. I told Barry that’s where we’d be. I hope that’s ok?”

I mumbled something about it being ok, and she continued, “Barry won’t be able to make it for at least a half hour. Even if I could set the bones, I don't have the equipment with me to do it, and this ain't exactly the most sterile environment to be working in anyway.”

She also told me that Barry promised to call 911 and have someone check the area out, and also keep an eye on her car, so she could sit in the back seat with the kitten.

While I drove as carefully and slowly as I could to my house, she relayed my description of the two teenagers to Barry, and he also promised to relay that to the police.

Unfortunately, I forgot about the blanket on my roof, and when we got to the house, it was gone.

On the way, and even after we moved the kitten into one of the spare bedrooms upstairs, she chatted on and on about my farm and always wanting to see it, and now here she was.

I mumbled something about liquid refreshments, and that was it.

Barry arrived ten minutes later and took over. He used a portable X-Ray Machine to take pictures, and then set the legs in tiny little cast.

After he was finished, he suggested I keep her here for a few days, and try not to move her again, just in case.

After Barry left, she showed me how to check her temp and made me promise to call if it started to go up. She gave me her phone number, and I gave her a ride back to her car.

On the way, she promised to come by in a couple days to check on the kitten.

Two weeks later, a week after Beth moved in, we began plastering all the local neighborhoods with posters, especially near where we’d rescued her.

I blew up a photo of “Socks” and used that as the background. At the top, we put “FOUND” in big block letters, and our contact info at the bottom.

Like usual, Beth came up with the name, and like usual, it fit, especially while she was still wearing those small cast on her legs. It made her look like she was wearing socks, and thus the name.

A couple days later, her owners came forward. They’d also put up posters, and I’d found one of them while putting up ours.

He had his daughter with him, and she cried uncontrollably as she hugged Socks for a full five minutes, before telling us her real name was “Muttens”.

Her Dad, who was also crying by now, told us about what had happened. His daughter had left her alone for only a few minutes in the back yard. “We spent two days looking for her everywhere. Thank God for people like you two,” he told us. By then, Beth and I were also crying.

We told them that the two boys, who had done this, had been caught, and punished.

Thankfully, he didn’t ask what that punishment was, because it probably would’ve pissed him off, just like it pissed us off.

Their parents only had to pay a two hundred-dollar fine, and that was it.

Even Beth got mad and went out behind the barn and didn’t come back until almost all her ammo was gone. For almost an hour, it sounded like the Fourth of July back there.

While listening to Beth laugh at something Rhonda said, I looked at the clock. It was after midnight, and officially Halloween.

We wouldn't be going on our usual patrol tonight. Instead, we'd be out rescuing just one Cat, and I just had to hope that nothing bad happened while we were doing that.

Maybe we could do a quick drive around after, or better yet, just before. I’ll have to bring it up tomorrow, when everyone comes over for our first secret meeting, ever, at our house. Minus the secret part, of course.

I thought about that for the rest of the night, and by two in the morning, another successfully quiet patrol was in the bank.

Subject to confirmation tomorrow... oops, I mean this morning.

Shit, I’m going to bed.

CHAPTER 13

Friday, October 31st (dictated 6:11 pm).

Finally, the real Friday morning arrived, and once again, I was up and ready to go.

And once again, Beth was already up and making breakfast. It smelled better than yesterday.

As I threw on a shirt, I took a quick look out the window. It looked like it was going to be a really nice day. All the stars were out, and with that thought in mind, I almost ran into the kitchen and practically inhaled my breakfast.

We talked about that cat from the Salem Witch Trials, and then round and round about last night for a couple minutes.

I didn’t even bother to remind her that this was my week to cook. All I said was, “That was better than awesome babe,” kissed her goodbye, and was out the door in a flash.

As I drove into the city, I remembered the other thing I liked about Halloween.

Besides the movie marathons, I liked to check out the costumes people wore. Some of them were pretty imaginative.

James West, a security guard at where I worked, really went to town. He was dressed up like an honest to God, rootin’-tootin’ cowboy. His words, not mine.

He was wearing leather chaps and a vest, a bandanna around his neck, and two guns by his side.

He was also wearing the required ten-gallon hat, except this one looked like it could hold more than twenty. It was twice the size of his head.

“I got this one at a basketball game,” he told me, as he pushed the brim back for the tenth time.

“Maybe you should ditch the hat,” I told him.

“You might be right,” he said and pushed the brim back again, and then took it off.

“I’ve only been wearing this fucking thing for an hour, and it’s not only managed to annoy the shit out of me, but all my friends too.”

“You have friends?”

He laughed and said, “Get the hell out here, asshole,” and then buzzed me in.

Normally, he’d ask why I was here early, but not this week. That’s because last week, before I left on Friday, I told Sherrie, Alicia, and Security, that I’d be coming in early to use the computers to look for animal abuse cases.

“Our internet, for some reason, has been crappy this week,” at least that's what I told them, and they fell for it.

Sherrie and Alicia already knew about what happened nine years ago with the kitten, and about the bunnies, and everything else, except for what I did.

Security didn’t know about any of that, but were behind me anyway, and that saddened me a little.

It was a lie after all, but I justified it by telling myself that it was for a good cause, and that made the lie a little easier to tell.

I hurried to my locker, changed into my scrubs, and almost on a run, headed straight for the Oh Oh Room.

A couple doors away, I got this feeling that something was wrong, really wrong.

The door to the outer office had a small window with a shade that the Cat usually pulled down after she opened the door to the Secret Room.

Right now, it was open, and I could see shadows moving on the other side.

I slowed down, casually walked by, and took a quick look into the room.

Just as I thought, there were two people inside, and one of them looked like a guard. He had a gun and was standing rigid in front of the door to the Secret Room.

This was not good, I thought furiously, what to do, what to do?

One of my duties was to clean that room, so I could go in if I wanted, but that would be too suspicious right now.

I had to wait until my regular shift, and that was maddening.

Dejected, I walked back out to the break room to actually use the computers to check the animal abuse sites.

While I finished printing out the most recent ones, I realized that at least for today anyway, my lie wasn’t a total lie anymore.

I turned off the computer and greeted my co-workers. Some of them looked like they were still sleeping, and half were wearing mouse ears.

Alicia looked the best. Not only because she was wearing furry mouse ears, but because she also had a painted white nose, and whiskers.

When she wiggled her nose, it made her look cute as hell, and when I told her, she blushed.

She was like that.

I then said goodbye and ran off, well, walked away really fast. I didn't want to make it obvious, but I also didn't want to just dwaddle around either.

I turned the corner, and like the end of that bridge in my burlap bag story, the Oh Oh Room looked like it was miles away.

As I got closer, and I don’t know how exactly, but I could tell the room was empty. I looked in the window before going in, and no one was standing guard in front of the door to the Secret Room anymore.

Had I imagined all that? Was I really going crazy? A talking Cat will get you thinking like that, believe me.

Once inside, I listened for a minute. Nothing, I couldn’t hear a sound. I pulled the garbage bags out of the cans, making as much noise as I possibly could and waited.

Two minutes later, I saw something being slipped under the door of the secret room.

Oh, oh, I thought, and jumped onto the desk next to the vent, “Amy! Are you alright?”

The sound of a creaking vent met my ears, “Just be sure to be here at fifteen minutes past midnight tonight and read my note.”

I tried to ask her what was going on, but was stopped dead cold, “Just be here tonight at fifteen minutes after midnight,” and then added like she was spitting out dirt, “Asshole.”

“Amy!” I hollered again, but all I got in return was the sound of a creaking vent. I jumped down and scooped the paper off the floor, folded it without reading it, and then put it into my back pocket as fast as I could.

I whispered, “Amy!?” one more time, and then, after a little wait, grabbed the garbage and went to do the rest of my eight hours. Every minute of it, worried out of my freakin’ mind.

What the hell had happened, and then it dawned on me.

Holy Christ! I thought, she must’ve told the night-crew about Frankie.

It's the only thing that explained all the weirdness.

The guard with the gun, and the cryptic message from Amy.

I know, I suggested she talk to them from day one, but even back then, I didn’t think she’d really do it, especially after I learned why.

By the end of my shift, I’d worked myself into one hell of a state and almost forgot to take the note out of my back pocket. I had to go back and dig through the dirty-scrub bag before I found it.

Thank God, I thought as I opened the note outside, but all that was typed on it was, “Read your e-mail,” and that was it.

I ran across the street, to that same coffee shop with the cool public phone and ordered a coffee.

While taking a sip, I found a seat and took out my phone. I checked my e-mail and found it easily enough. How could I miss it really? The subject line was just one word, “!!!ASSHOLE!!!”.

That alone made me not want to read it, but I had to know.

It was only two paragraphs, but the first one started off pleasantly enough, “EAT SHIT ASSHOLE!”, and then went downhill from there.

Yeah, that Cat was fucking mad, no doubt.

The e-mail didn't help. It just made me anxious again, and the only good news was that at least she was still alive, but was she alive now?

As I quickly finishing my coffee and walked back across the street, I kept wanting to run back inside to make sure she was ok.

As maddening as it was not knowing, I also knew that my whole plan might explode if I did that.

I had to be patient and follow the original plan. That was my best course of action right now.

Being patient was definitely not one of my best virtues, but this time, I gritted my teeth, and under my breath said, “Don’t worry Amy, unless I die, there ain’t nothing gonna stop me from getting you out of that fucking place tonight. Not a fucking thing.”

I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the phone store.

After that, I had to get home, and help Beth get everything ready for tonight.

It’ll be the first time that my secret friends get to meet Beth in person, and that was kind of historic in its own way, but it didn't stop me from worrying about Amy.

What the fuck happened last night? Did she really talk to them, or did something else happen?

Would that guard be there tonight, and why wasn't he there when I went to clean the room at my regular time? Hopefully, that meant he wouldn’t be there tonight.

Hopefully.

I tried to shake my head and erase it like a black board, because I didn’t need that hopeful shit clogging my head right now.

In eight hours, I'd find out if she was still alive, and also what happened, but until then, I still had a couple problems to work out, before my escape plan was complete.

I drove into the phone store parking lot, parked, and called Beth. I told her where I was. “I’ll be home in a few. I have one more errand to run.”

“Hurry up. I miss you.”

“Miss you too,” and hung up.

As I left the phone store, I got a text from D saying someone would be over to see me at ten. He couldn't make it himself, but to call him if there was a problem.

One problem down, and one more to go.

I still had to come up with a good reason why I was going to be there tonight? It can't be something that looks or sounded suspicious, especially after we left.

If, everything went as planned, they wouldn't miss the Cat for a few days, and if we’re lucky, even longer.

If, everything went as planned.

Big if, because there was so much that could go wrong, that I didn’t even want to think about it. Instead, I switched gears on myself.

I've been in there late at night before, so that wouldn't be unprecedented, but never after twelve. Maybe I could make something up about Halloween, a late party, or I just forgot my keys.

Any one of those should work.

When I got in the house, Beth was running around like a headless chicken, cleaning everything in sight. Glad to see me, giving me a kiss, and then ordering me around just like a headless chicken would.

That's when I noticed Darryl at the end of the table sipping a cocktail, still wearing his butlering stuff, but doing nothing.

He raised his glass to me, and shook his head, “Sorry, Crim, but she won't let me do anything.”

“He's a guest, and you aren't. Now move it Mister. Chop, chop, chop,” she pantomimed, and then started mopping the floor.

I started pulling everything out of the vegetable crisper. “This is why I don't throw parties,” I said as I began to chop, chop, chop. “How many people are we making stuff for? This seems like an excessive amount,” but she just pantomimed that I keep chop, chop, chopping.

“Too much is better than not enough,” she said and kept mopping. “Besides, we can always make soup.”

“Did you learn anything new at the Law Library?” I asked while chop, chop, chopping.

“A lot more cat stories, but none of them could talk,” she said and tried to run my shoes over with the mop.

“You could just ask me to move, you know?”

“This is more fun,” she said and ran them over again.

“What’s this about the Law Library,” Darryl asked.

Beth explained what she’d found, while I kept chop, chop, chopping.

After an hour, I finally finished. Truth be told, it was only ten minutes, but it felt like an hour.

That’s when Beth brought out her special dip.

It was to die for, just like her special sauce, and my mouth watered just seeing it. I reached for a dip, but she slapped my hand just as I was grabbing a nice piece of broccoli.

“Not yet,” she said, scolding me with her eyes. She also had a crooked little smile just twitching at the edge of her lips.

I got ready to dip the hell out of it, and shamelessly dropped to my knees and begged her, “Please Beth, please, please, please.”

“That's pitiful, Criminal,” Darryl said and took another sip from his cocktail.

I got off the floor and while pretending to rub my knee, I swiped a dip.

“You have got to try this Dr. D, it's the best dip I've ever tasted in my life,” I said and handed him my swipe.

“It's almost better than sex.”

He took it from my hand, and looked over at Beth, who was blushing. “It's not better than sex,” she said quietly.

“I swear,” I added, “that it might not be as good as, but it wouldn't be a bad substitute. No sex? Eat this stuff. It’s that good.”

“Whoa!” Darryl said, as he took a bite, “That is almost better than sex.”

“Told you,” I said, as I swiped another dip, and Beth pretended not to notice.

Darryl patted his jacket, “I’ve got a surprise for the both of you. Everyone chipped in, well, everyone tried to chip in as best they could, and I'm covering the rest.”

“What is it?”

“Tut, tut. It's a surprise, and it wouldn't be fair to show you, before everyone else was here.”

“At least, tell me what's in the box?” I said pointing to the one on his right.

“That's part of the surprise,” he said, looking at his watch, “but don't worry, it won't be long now.”

“When's everyone coming?” I asked Darryl, but it was Beth who answered me.

“You told me seven.”

I looked at the clock, and it was a little after six.

I gave Beth a kiss and ran to the bedroom.

I took a really quick shower, caught up with my Journal, and was now ready for the big Cat-napping party.

YeeHA!!!

CHAPTER 14

Friday, October 31st (dictated 1:13 am, Nov 1).

While buttoning my clean new shirt, I told Beth and Darryl about what happened at work. Neither of them seemed worried about it, and that mystified me a little.

That’s when Rhonda walked into the kitchen, smiling that evil schoolgirl smile that only an arch-enemy can pull off.

She looked so innocent, and that was the scary part. She looked like any other fourteen-year-old dressed in a Catholic schoolgirl outfit.

The same one her sister was wearing when she went missing. She was putting herself out as bait, so she could catch her sister's abductor, or abductors.

I actually feel sorry for the guy, if she ever gets the chance to be alone with him or her or them. I’ve heard some of the shit she wants to do, and man, I thought my fantasies were bad, but some of her schemes were also way the fuck out there.

I don’t even want to describe them, except to say, if you know how to torture someone with a cheese grater, then you know what I’m talking about, or what I’m not gonna talk about.

It’s actually the least painful of all her ideas.

Putting herself out as bait was another of her crazy schemes, but no one could persuade her otherwise. Even her parents were at a loss.

She was stubborn and didn't like to be bossed around. “My parents give me enough of that shit. Thank you very much,” she was fond of saying, and would add with a giggle, “I already gave at home, but thanks for asking,” and then she’d curtsey.

Even though I opposed her joining the group, I was also secretly glad that she had. She was one hell of a computer genius and could get in and out of almost anything, high security or not. She even knew how to code chips and build her own apps and computer gadgets.

I’ve probably explained all that before, but I was also glad she came tonight. I just couldn't tell her that, or the other thing either.

Giving your arch-enemy a compliment, or anything like it, had to definitely be against the rules. Someday, I’ll find those damn rules, but for now, all I had to say was, “Glad you could come, Runt.”

Beth looked at me in disappointment, and then turned to Rhonda and smiled, “I'm glad you came, Ron. How’d you get in? I didn't hear you knock?”

Rhonda giggled and looked at Darryl, “How'd I do Teach?”

“Teach?” I asked and looked at Beth, but she was just smiling right along with Rhonda.

She obviously knew something I didn't.

“What's up Dr. D? Let me in on it too.”

“Once a year, as a courtesy to my friends, I inspect their dwellings to see how easy it is for someone to get in and blow their brains out with a shotgun.”

“Nice imagery,” I said, trying to stop myself from going off on a fantasy trip about shotguns blowing up watermelons, grapefruits, and other people’s heads, but then, I remembered yesterday morning.

Luckily, Darryl ignored my comment and continued, “This is my first year doing your place, Crim. Your front door has a really good lock on it, but unfortunately for you, I know a trick that makes it easy to open.”

I wanted to ask what the trick was, but he addressed that immediately, “It’s a professional secret, so don’t bother asking what it is.”

Ok, I thought, his secrets are like a magician’s, but when I looked over at Rhonda, she had that evil grin again, and I wondered if she knew the trick.

Before I could ask, Darryl was already giving me the rest of his report. “I did have a little trouble with your back door, and that's good, but the two doors to your cellar weren't that much of a problem. It only took me a few seconds, and that’s not good.”

“You jimmied both our cellar doors to get in the house?”

“That's about the size of it, and since I’ve been teaching Miss Rhonda the biz, I locked everything back up, so she could try it for herself.”

He looked at his watch. “That was two hours ago.”

“My parents almost wouldn’t let me come. It’s why I’m late,” she explained, “but once I got started, it only took me twenty minutes. Twenty-five, if you include the time it took me to pet a couple dozen cats and dogs. Shit, you guys got a lot of pets.”

Beth and I had to laugh. We had the same problem when we went out to the barn, or anywhere around the back of the house, but not the front.

For some reason, our babies never ventured far from the barn, and that also included going to the front of the house. It was odd, but I was glad, because the front of the house was the only thing that separated them from the road.

Since I’ve lived here, at least ten animals have been killed on that road. I know that for a fact, because Beth and I were there, trying to save every damn one of them.

The Darkness was also there.

“That’s not bad Miss Rhonda,” Darryl said chuckling, and then instantly got serious, “and also good for you, Crim, but I'd still recommend you get better locks for those two cellar doors, and also the one up here,” he said and pointed to it.

He paused for a second, and then added, “Also, never, ever, oil any of those hinges. Squeaky hinges and creaky boards are your best friends, and they’re free.”

Darryl took another quick look around, “All your windows look good. They’re all locked, but even unlocked, they’re the kind that aren’t easy to open, or break and climb through.

“I’d still put bars on them, at least, on this floor.”

Beth was looking at me, waiting.

“I don't know Dr. D, I think new locks on all those doors you mentioned is a good idea. I'm definitely for that one, but bars on the windows?” I looked back at Beth, “What do you think, hon?”

“I agree. I was all for the idea at first. Shut up,” She said, and put her hand over my mouth to stop me from interrupting her.

“I really was, at first, but then started thinking about how it would feel to live in a house with bars on all the windows. Like living in a jail, that's what it would feel like. I don't want to live in a jail.”

I couldn't argue with that, even though, after tonight, that might be our new home.

“Sorry pal, no go from the home front.”

“Pity. It was just a suggestion anyway. Other than that, and after you get better locks for those doors, I’d look into getting a good security system. Why don’t you talk with that security firm you use to monitor our dashcams?”

“That’s a good idea,” I agreed.

I was about to bring up this whole ‘teaching the biz’ business, when Pee Wee and Mouse showed up, dressed to the hilt, like a doctor and nurse. They weren’t wearing white either, but camouflage.

Pee Wee was dressed as the nurse.

For some reason, it looked creepy to me, and I even cringed a little when he came over.

Pee Wee slapped me on the back, and asked, “Are you ready for the big moment?” and the spell was broken. Right then, his costume seemed like the funniest thing I'd ever seen, ever.

“Sorry,” I said in between tears, “nice get-up by the way,” and then realized what he'd said.

“What big moment? The Cat-napping?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

The way he said it, didn’t sound right, but I let it go. Instead, I got them both up to speed on what happened today, and they didn't seem concerned either, but unfortunately, that’s when I remembered their Cab Company.

“Isn’t tonight a big night for you guys? Shit! I’m sorry. I forgot all about that.”

“This’ll be worth it,” Pee Wee said, “and besides, Rico will make us some money, so no worries there, buddy.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Mouse added, and then excused herself to go hang out with Rhonda and Beth.

Not that I cared, but it sure looked like Beth had met everyone already, and not just from talking on the walkie either.

I could've sworn that Mouse just gave Beth a hug and also congratulations. Congratulations for what, I wondered. Our up-coming wedding? Ok, that made sense, I think? Maybe, that’s what Pee Wee really meant?

I had to make sure.

I herded Pee Wee over to the TV stand where Darryl was mixing cocktails for everyone.

“Ok guys, what the hell’s going on here? Why’s everyone so nonchalant about the Cat? We may have a problem getting her out, especially if that guard’s there.”

Darryl and Pee Wee looked at each other.

“Well, to be honest Crim,” Darryl answered slowly, “it's not that we don't believe you.”

Pee Wee added, “We want to believe you, buddy. We really do, but you have to admit. A talking Cat is just plain impossible.”

Darryl jumped in again, “It's just a tad bit hard to swallow, and now it looks like we might not even get to see the talking Cat after all.”

“We all figured this would happen,” Pee Wee added, “because this was all just a ruse to get us all together, so you could formally propose to Beth. That's way more believable than a talking Cat.”

“You have to admit Crim, if you were us, would you believe you?” Darryl finished for Pee Wee.

They looked at me, obviously waiting for me to tell them that yes, they were right, it was all a ruse, but I just shook my head and pulled out the four debit cards.

“I admit nothing, but I do agree, that I wouldn’t believe it either, and I’ve seen her,” I said, and then started handing out the cards.

“These may not convince you one hundred percent, but I guarantee it'll make you pause for a minute and rethink this idea that talking Cats aren’t possible.

“Either she's real, or I'm going crazy and hallucinating this whole thing, and somehow, I’ve gotten a hold of seventy thousand dollars that I’ve hidden somewhere, that I don't know about, but can still access somehow, and also have debit cards made for everyone.

“Before dawn tomorrow, we’ll know which it is.”

“What are these things,” Rhonda asked, as I handed one to her.

“I assumed, and so did Amy obviously, that you would all be more than happy to help, so these debit cards are an advance, and also a partial proof of sorts.”

I waited a second, to make sure everyone was listening, then continued, “Each card has your real names on it, and they've already been activated. On those sticky notes, you'll find your user ID, and pin number.”

“And,” I started, but paused dramatically, “each card has ten thousand dollars on it.”

After I told them that, it was like I’d pushed a button that made them pull out their smart-phones and begin tapping. After a minute, they looked at each other in astonishment, and then at me.

Darryl was the first to speak, “Ok, now I know your financial situation here, for both of you.”

“I know. You do our taxes every year,” I interrupted. Another thing Beth didn't know about, but now she did. I looked over at her, and she didn't look mad or anything. She was actually smiling at me.

“And,” Darryl continued, “I also know that unless you just won some kind of lottery or inherited a boatload of money, there is no way you have that kind of money just laying around.”

I thought about that for a minute, “I don't know Dr. D. We have enough equity on the house, I think I could probably swing another mortgage, maybe rob a bank, so there's no way to know for sure. At least, not one hundred percent anyway,” I said.

I looked at everyone, one at a time, and then added, “until the Cat tells you herself, and that’ll be in about...” I looked at my watch, and it was almost quarter after seven, “almost exactly five hours from now.

“And here's the kicker. Since that ten thousand is only an advance, when the job is done, and of course, if the Cat is real, we each get another forty thousand. And, another half million each, if we help spring her two buddies later.”

Mouse spoke up first, after that bombshell, “So you guys aren't getting married?” She looked at Beth for confirmation.

“Of course, we're getting married,” I said without thinking, “but first, I like everyone's idea about making a formal proposal in front of friends.”

I walked over to Beth, got on one knee, and then took her hand. Both Mouse and Rhonda started sniffing. Pee Wee almost looked like he was also going to start crying, the big lug.

Darryl pulled a small video camera out of his pocket, and Beth... I’ve never seen her look more beautiful, or happier.

Her smile wasn't crooked anymore.

That’s when Rhonda, my freakin' arch-enemy, decided to spoil everything.

“Wait!” she cried out.

Everyone looked at her, and she in turn looked at Darryl. “Wouldn't now be a good time, you know, to give them...?”

“Quite right, Miss Rhonda,” he said and gave the video camera to Pee Wee. “Don't film anything just yet,” and then pulled out what looked like a cloth tape measure, and first measured Beth's finger, and then mine.

After that, we all followed him into the kitchen. At the table, he pulled out a cloth pouch from inside his jacket and poured out an inch-high mound of something onto a plate. They looked like real diamonds and also sparkled like the real things.

While he was doing that, he also explained what was going on, starting with the first question that came to my mind.

“Yes,” he told us, “they're real, and right here is about a quarter-million dollars.”

Turning to Beth, he told her, “I have the equipment, right here, to make the engagement, and wedding rings, of both your dreams.”

Beth literally did not know what to say. I could see it in her eyes, and that's when she sniffled, and almost started crying, “You guys don't even know me.”

Rhonda came over and gave her a hug. “We all like you Beth, despite him,” she said while pointing at me.

“Hey!”

“I personally think you deserve a medal, but this was the best we could do on such short notice,” Rhonda said, then surprised the hell out of me by coming over and also giving me a hug.

It was nice, but I still pushed her away anyway. “After what you just said?”

“I was just kidding,” she said, turned around and went back to stand by Beth.

“Arch-enemy,” she said and laughed.

“Sorry,” was all I could think to say, before I remembered who the arch-enemy was.

“Hey! What am I apologizing for?”

Rhonda gave me another one of her evil little grins, followed by a silent pretend laugh. Now, that's the real arch-enemy that I know and almost hate.

Beth was busy separating the diamonds out and choosing a very beautiful arrangement for her two rings.

Darryl admired her choices and got his equipment ready. He reached for Beth’s first choice and stopped.

You could almost see the idea form in his mind, as he smiled and said, “I have another diamond that's just a little bigger than this one. I could knock a couple pieces off each end, and that'll make it the same size...” and this is where he paused dramatically.

This was definitely a night for high drama.

He continued by explaining that, “those two chips will be so masterfully cut, that they'll look magnificent on the groom’s engagement ring and wedding band. Trust me,” he told her.

He turned to me, “It'll be symbolic, like a piece of Miss Beth is always with you.”

How the hell could I argue with that?

“I love it, let's do it.”

Beth agreed, and I picked out my two bands, well, Beth did most of the picking. I was just there to agree with her.

After that, Darryl got to work.

One of the very few things, that I knew for sure about Darryl, was that he was an expert jeweler. It's how he got his start, “down the wrong path,” he was always fond of saying.

He could easily do this, and it’d look just like a real jeweler had done it, which he was. Sorry, I guess that's kinda stupid, huh?

Anyway, this time, he out did himself, and it didn’t even take him two hours, all together, before he handed us our rings in hinged satin lined boxes.

Four boxes all total.

Against the black satin they looked even more stunning.

I couldn't think of anything to say except, “Wow!”

Thankfully, Beth finally knew what to say, “Thank you, everyone.” She gave everyone a hug along with a kiss on the cheek for Darryl.

Everyone? I looked at my arch-enemy, and as if she could read my mind, said, “I donated forty dollars,” and gave me another evil little grin, “I donated it for Beth, not you.”

I grabbed Beth and forgot all about my Arch.

I sat her down on the couch and got down on one knee again. That's when someone knocked at the front door. I looked at my watch. It was going on nine-thirty.

Damn, I thought, just now remembering the package. I sighed and got up to answer the door. Damn, this is such bad timing.

“Who's that?” Beth asked.

“I told you about that package, right?”

She puckered her brow, “I think so. Oh, that's right, that D friend of yours.”

“He sends you his love, by the way,” I said and reached out to open the door.

“In his dreams,” she said back.

Everyone was looking at each other wondering what was going on, but of course, my arch-enemy had to verbalize what everyone else must be thinking.

“What the hell's going on Criminal?”

“Just keep your hands where I can see them, Runt,” I said, not knowing why, and opened the door.

An old guy had two black heavy-duty plastic bags on a dolly behind him. As I opened the door wider, he grabbed the clipboard that was laying on top of them. Under the clipboard was a bouquet of flowers.

After verifying who I was supposed to be, he said, “D told me to tell you, he couldn't decide between the two, so he's giving you two for the price of one.” He almost smiled, and then added, “'The good customer discount', were his exact words. He even wrote it down.”

He handed me a note, that I had to initial, before he’d allow me to take the two black bags. It read, “Good Customer Discount,” and under that, “Call me if you have any problems.”

While initialing the note, I wondered when D started getting people to initial things. I gave it back, and he handed me a big bouquet of white and red roses and pink carnations, with a little card attached to it, “For Lady Beth.”

I took the two packages and bouquet, thinking that maybe I should tip this guy, but he was off before I even finished the thought. Beth was right beside me, as I waved to him.

He didn't return the wave, or even honk his horn.

I gave Beth the bouquet, and the card, and she took them disgustedly, not knowing what to do with them. Finally, she trashed the flowers, but read the card and laughed. “In your dreams asshole,” and also trashed that, after tearing it up into tiny little pieces.

“I know that sometimes you need that guy for some of your off the wall shit,” she said, took the flowers out of the trash, and while getting a vase, continued, “and I know I just threw these out, but they are beautiful, and it’s not their fault, that I seriously and sincerely hope you understand that I don't like this guy, at all.”

She wasn't through. Everyone had to listen to this, and it was not something I just wanted blurted out, but that’s how it came out anyway.

"So Please, don't tell me you had that D character kill a cat? Two cats it looks like."

I had to laugh at that one but stopped when Beth gave me a look that would curdle milk.

"No!” I said quickly, “D is as dead set against abusing animals as you and I. Maybe even more so, I think. Truth be told, it's his only weakness, or so he tells me.

“Besides, he told me it was from the County Animal Shelter where strays are brought, so they can find homes, but most don't. Those that don't were euthanized.

“Obviously, these two didn't find homes. I wish I could do more,” I said, going on and on, not wanting to stop, “but if I took in every stray there, we'd run out of room in no time. And even if I figured a way around that problem, where would it stop? You know me Beth, I'd eventually have to take in every stray in the fucking world.

“As much as I hate to, I have to draw the line somewhere.”

"Yeah, I know all about that shit Criminal, but why didn't you just go to Barry? Why D?"

“Do you really think Barry would believe me about the talking Cat business? Besides, even if I didn't have to tell him about that, I didn't want him involved, in case something went screwy. D takes risk like this all the time. He makes good money at it, let me tell you.”

“How much good money?”

“A hundred for the cats, and since it was a rush, another hundred, and that included delivery.”

She pushed me, “Get out of here. Two hundred bucks! Wow! That is good money.”

It was bad enough having to deal with one euthanized cat, but now, I had to figure out what to do with the second one. Was I supposed to bury it?

Damn that D. Sometimes, I had to agree with Beth. I mean, I liked the guy and all that, but sometimes he could be such a pain in the ass.

After I brought them into the kitchen, I had to put them on the floor and not on the table. The surprise came when I opened the bags.

Fucking D had sent me one black cat and one white one, obviously not remembering what color I’d told him.

“He couldn't even remember what color I told him.”

I almost called to complain.

Almost, but Beth stopped me.

“Just let it go,” she said shuddering. “I don't want that man sending me kisses over the phone.”

After I’d opened the first package, I could feel the atmosphere in the room change slightly. It was like being in a soap opera, and my friends were the audience.

This was where I was drawing a line in the sand and asking them, my secret friends, and one arch enemy, and even Beth, to cross over with me.

This was not a fantasy anymore. This was real. We could go to jail for this, and the two dead cats on the floor proved that.

It was like I was saying to them, either you're with me, or you’re against me. Follow me over this line or shoot me now.

But, I couldn't ask them to cross that line until I explained the risk to them, and that’s what I did. Getting caught was the big risk. Anything else would be small potatoes, and then I told them my plan.

I went into excruciating detail about it, and after more than an hour, my arch-enemy, who else, told me that I was all wet.

“Mouse just thought of a better plan, a way better one,” she said, nudging her, “Mouse?”

We’d moved operations back into the living room, and they were sitting next to each other on the couch, along with Pee Wee on one end, and Beth on the other. I was sitting on the armrest next to Beth, and Darryl was standing behind a chair near his bar.

He was making me tired just looking at him.

Mouse didn't really say much, but she sure could think. Whenever I asked for her opinion, she’d gladly give it to me, and it always made me think, and this idea was no different.

It was so brilliant, especially in its simplicity, that I didn’t even have to think about it.

“You and Beth have been out partying. That's believable, because it's Halloween,” Mouse explained, “and you decided that tonight would be the perfect night to propose, but halfway through it, you realized that you’d forgotten the rings in your other coat, and unfortunately, that one was still at work.”

“That’s brilliant. Who goes in with me?”

“Me, of course, you big dummy,” Beth said, as she pretended to punch me in the stomach.

I laughed, “What was I thinking?” I said and hit myself in the head, “But, what about everyone else?”

Mouse continued, “Me and Pee Wee will sit in our cab waiting. That'll seem natural because you didn't want to drink and drive.

“We let Darryl and Rhonda off a block away, and from there, they go to the nearest exit where the Cat is. According to the plans Rhonda got last night, the room you describe is near the north exit.”

“Once you go in, any call from you or Beth, even if it's cut-off, we go in,” Rhonda ordered, like she was some kind of General ordering her troops around. “You should put our numbers on speed dial right now.”

She rolled her eyes, when I told her I wasn’t that good with phones.

She took it from me and angrily punched numbers into it.

“I can see why you needed help with that dictating program of yours,” she added.

I chose not to respond.

“How's it running, by the way?” she asked and continued to punch buttons.

“Perfect, thank you,” was what I was trying to avoid saying, because thanking your arch-enemy, for anything, must definitely be against the rules.

Twenty beeps later, she handed my phone back, “Press the number one, and then the green button. That's it. If you want to call Darryl, just press the number two instead. I suggest one of you keep your finger on one of the buttons, at all times. The faster we get the call, the faster we can be in there to back you up.”

“I have to admit. I like it. Ok, right now let's synchronize our watches. I have exactly 10:48 and twenty, twenty-one seconds.

“When I say now, it'll be exactly 10:49... now.”

Everyone quickly looked at their smart-phones. Maybe I did this too much?

A little more than an hour to go before we had to leave, and I wondered if that was enough time to do a quick patrol, but then remembered about Beth.

I started to get down on one knee, but Beth would have none of it.

“Not until you take care of those poor animals in the kitchen. Put the one you're taking with us in a hundred extra-large garbage bags, and the other one in two hundred bags, and then put them back in the bags they came in.

“After that, put the other one out in the shed. Please. We'll bury him tomorrow, by that big oak tree, way in the back.”

“Ok, but a hundred bags, Beth?”

She waved both her hands quickly, “Ok, ten or twenty, but no less.”

She meant it too.

I turned to go. I was suddenly getting deeply depressed.

I guess, she could sense it, because she put both her hands on my shoulders, gave me one of her crooked smiles, and sighed.

“I know how hard this is for you, because I know you, but that don't mean I have to like it. Now, get in there and do your job, and then get back out here to propose to me, so we can go get that damn Cat of yours,” she said, while pointing into the kitchen.

I saluted her, “Yes sir. On my way sir,” and did exactly that.

By the time I was done, it was almost eleven-thirty.

Finally, I was able to get down on one knee again, and hoped that this time, I’d be able to finish.

“Beth,” I said, and then took her hand. “Before I met you, happiness was just a concept to me, but you’ve made it real, and now I know what all those sappy songs on the radio mean.

“Yesterday’s, was nothing compared to the love I have for you today, Beth, or the love I’ll have tomorrow, or all the tomorrows forever after.”

I took her other hand, “Beth, will you marry me?”

Beth looked shocked, and then finally said with tears in her eyes, “Wow!” and then quickly added, “Wait a minute. That sounds a little familiar. Isn't that from that TV show...”

She stopped herself, and instead, squeezed my hands, “of course, I'll marry you, and not just because I love you, but because without you, my life would be just one long boring trip around the sun, year after dreary year.

“I'm blessed, and I want to spend the rest of my life thanking you for it and returning your love twice fold.”

It was my turn to choke up a little, “Wow!” after we stopped kissing and hugging.

“That guy on TV did a better job, Crim. Not criticizing, just saying,” Beth whispered to me, while we were hugging.

“I did paraphrase a little,” I whispered back.

When we let go, she had tears, and I probably also did, but I didn't want to check, because that would’ve been a dead giveaway.

By then, Mouse and Rhonda were both crying and hugging Beth. I grabbed her hand and put a ring on the right finger, I think, and she put one on mine.

I should’ve looked back to see which finger Darryl had measured, or even just looked at my own hand, but I didn’t think of it at the time, and also because Beth looked so beautiful, that I had to kiss her again.

I did, and it was nice.

Then Pee Wee was giving us a bear hug and wiping a tear away himself. What a guy.

Darryl, trying to stay in character, did what a gentleman's gentleman would do and shook my hand, “Congratulations, sir. This is certainly a wondrous occasion. Don't you think, sir?” and then also gave me a hug.

I had just enough time to say, “Thank you,” before I was hit from all sides by Beth first, then Mouse, and then my arch-enemy.

Group hug!

That didn't seem right somehow. My arch-enemy was making it very difficult for me to not hate her.

She was definitely not following the rules, whatever the hell they were, unless, that was her plan.

Keep me off guard, and then lower the boom. Pretty ingenious, I thought, especially since that was also my plan.

After the group hug, we still had a few minutes before we had to leave.

First, I asked for everyone's coats, put them in the closet, grabbed my bag of goodies and handed out black insulated sweaters and hoodies.

Everyone put them on, and then I handed out high-intensity flashlights, and new walkies-talkies, just in case.

“We'll turn ours off, just before we go in,” I told them, “and only use them as back-up, but the rest of you should keep yours on, and as long as we don't contact you, assume everything’s going according to the plan. Agreed?”

Everyone did, and I looked at my watch. Two minutes to go, “Let's move people,” I said following a script I saw in a movie once, but I was foiled again.

“Wait!” Mouse almost shouted, and then calmly continued, “Before you go, you really should take off those rings and put them in your pocket, Crim.”

Once again, she was right.

Something as small as that could derail everything.

Things were not going exactly as planned anyway, and we hadn't even left yet.

First that guard, two cats instead of one, and now, we almost walked in wearing the rings that we were there to get. Hopefully, nothing else would go wrong.

Hopefully, that guard wouldn’t be there either.

Before I could dwell on that too long, I put the rings into a pocket inside my hoodie and zipped it closed.

I grabbed my backpack with the package inside, and off we went.

Pee Wee was an excellent driver, and his cab was an original 1957 Chevy, painted bright yellow with the name of their company on the outside and they're number. It was beautiful, inside, and out. The other two cabs looked exactly like this one.

It usually took me a little less than twenty minutes to drive to work. Leaving ten minutes before midnight, would give us time to stop a block away, for a final run-through.

On the way, Mouse suggested we use a quick password like Amy.

“All you have to do is say it over the walkie, and we’ll put the rest of your plan in motion immediately.”

We stopped a block away, went over the plan again, but before Rhonda got out, she asked, “Please, before we go, could we have a couple seconds of silence, in remembrance of my sister, please?”

After a couple seconds, she whispered, “I miss you so, so much Steph, and I love you even more, and I’m gonna find you. We’re gonna find you. I promise. With all my heart, I promise.”

She started crying softly, but then took a deep breath, and added, “Amen.”

She got out, and then blended into the shadows, right behind Darryl.

At the last minute, I had reservations about that part of the plan, but they were out the door and gone before I could say anything.

I mentally banged myself in the head.

If she was going to do something crazy, something an arch-enemy would do, then this would be the perfect time for it.

I just hoped and prayed that I was wrong about that.

After Darryl and my arch-enemy got out, wearing my hoodies, Beth started pushing me over, and finally up against the other door.

She gave me a hug and a kiss, "Thank you, Criminal."

"Just remember your promise to never leave me."

"I don't see how I could find anyone else to love as crazy as you, ever," Beth snuggled up to me a little closer.

I pushed her away a little bit, "Hey! That part about me being crazy hasn't been proven yet, but you'll see."

I hope.

We arrived at the security entrance, and the digital clock, on the dashboard, turned to midnight at that exact same second.

“Your clock is ten minutes slow,” I told Pee Wee, trying to take my mind off what was coming next.

“I know,” he answered back, and that's when my heart started beating a little faster, and for a couple seconds, I was confused. I’d forgotten why we were here, and then everything clicked back into place, and I knew exactly what we had to do, and how we had to do it.

I jumped out of the cab, and as Beth got out after me, I held my hand out for hers. She smiled, and then let me take it.

We ran for the main entrance, and I pulled out my badge, but before I could use it, the door clicked open. I wondered about that for a second, while holding the door, so Beth could go in first, and then saw Axel.

He was sitting behind the security desk and waving for us to come over. He wasn’t wearing a costume or anything.

He was a friend that I'd met at a bar a couple years ago. I told him about the job here, and even recommended him.

Every now and again, we'd hang out, and he's even met Beth.

She recognized him immediately and waved back.

We walked up to the two-way speaker. The whole security room was enclosed in bullet proof glass, or so I’ve been told, and that was the only way to communicate with anyone in there.

"Crim, what’s you up to, especially this late at night? Hey Beth, long time no see."

"Too long, I think," Beth laughed. And you could tell the sentiment was mutual. Beth liked Axel.

“He’s one of the good guys,” she once told me, and I had to agree.

Maybe this was a good omen?

"You got that right, girl," he said, and they knocked knuckles through the security glass.

"When did you start working the grave?" I asked, usually he did the swing-shift watch.

"Last week," Axel sighed. "They have this theory that if they juggle the shifts every once in a while, we won't get as bored, and that would make us better killing machines.

“It makes sense to me, I guess, but I still hate the grave. Six months of hell is what I really think. Eh, but what the fuck, it pays the bills, and keeps beer in the fridge."

"I don’t know about the killing machine part, but I hear ya brother. I never liked grave either."

"Oh, and I want to thank you for that advice you gave my daughter, last time we chilled together. It was spot on, and she started school again. Thanks buddy."

I thought for a minute, "Oh yeah, well she's a smart girl. I knew if I told her a few stories about my internship at the legal offices of McKluck and Sons, the wheels would start turning in her head, and she'd make the right decision.

“Beth, you remember Doreen, Axel's daughter. They were over a few months ago...?"

"Oh yeah," Beth remembered right off, "and she's pretty too," she told Axel, and that got her a smile, "but Crim, McKluck and Sons? What kind of stupid name is that for a law firm?"

"Hey, it got everyone's attention didn't it? Look it up, if you don't believe me. I know, I told you about that Beth. I was a copy boy there one summer. I know, I told you this."

"Yeah, I know," Beth said and gave me one of her sly crooked smiles. "I just couldn't help make fun of that name. It's hilarious."

"I have to agree with the lady, Crim," Axel added from behind the glass, like God was talking to us, "McKluck and Sons is an outrageous name, especially for a law firm."

"Look it up."

"I will, now excuse the language Beth, but what in hell are you two doing out so late, and of all places, what in hell are you doing here? Don't you spend enough time in this place, Crim?"

"Axel, this is very embarrassing, but I was in the middle of proposing to Beth tonight, and stupid, fucking idiot me, forgot the..."

"No," Axel almost yelled. "No dude, you didn't. Tell me you didn't leave the motherfucking rings in your locker?"

"Yup," I laughed.

"Wait a minute, propose? Are you two gettin' hitched?"

When we both nodded, Axel whooped, "Well, honest to God, that is good news," and then got just a little serious.

"You'd better invite us to the wedding, or I will come down to your house, and shoot you myself."

"You're at the top of the list Axel, you and Maxime, and especially Doreen," Beth reassured him.

“Besides, I don't want to have to shoot you back.”

Axel laughed, as he obviously remembered Beth's love for guns, and that she was a good shot. They once had a contest in our cellar, and Beth won, of course.

"You see that you do that girl," he said, and then asked, “You're not packing now, are you?”

“I wouldn't do that to you Axel.”

I knew she was lying, but I didn't say a word. Why make a fuss, when it wasn't necessary?

“Ok, I'll take your word for it,” Axel said and buzzed us in. “Don't forget to give us a call when you set the date.”

"I promise," Beth nodded, and I also knew she meant it. “We figure the Spring sometime, maybe the first weekend. Right, hon?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I said, almost dragging Beth through the door with me. "We'd love to stay and chat, but I’ve got a cab waiting outside..."

"Oh absolutely, just make sure you let me know when you set the actual date."

"We will, and like Beth says, you're at the top of the list, and oh, while we're here, I'm gonna give her a quick tour. She's never been inside before."

"Just make sure she's wearing one of those pink contamination suits."

"Gotcha," I said, and the door clicked shut behind us, sounding like a bolt of thunder.

That stopped me for a second, but I took a deep breath and hurried on with Beth right by my side.

We took a right at the end of the hallway, and that led us to some stairs. They went down one floor, and at the bottom, were a couple doors. I used my badge, and then we were inside.

We went down a couple more steps, and around one more corner, before I announced, "This is it. This is where I work."

I pointed to the two offices on our right. “That’s where our two Supervisors hang out,” I explained, and as we continued down the hall, “and that’s where the rest of us hang out,” I said and pointed to the break room on our left.

"Looks boring," she said as we passed the long window where you could see inside.

"I know, but the computers are fun," I said, pointing to the ones lined up against the wall, and then to the double doors at the end of the hall. "That's where the locker rooms are, and beyond that is the Vivarium."

"I always thought that name sounded like a drug," Beth giggled, "like someone mixed a Vicodin, and a Valium together and added a little Varoom to turn it into a Vivarium."

"Ok, I have to admit, that's funny," I said, and we snickered.

After a couple seconds of that, Beth grabbed my arm.

"Come on, let's go."

Up until that point, we’d been whispering for some reason. "Why are we whispering?" I finally had to ask, in a whisper.

This got us snickering again.

I used my card to get us into the double doors that led into a short hallway. On the left and right, were the male and female locker rooms respectively.

Outside the locker room doors was the staging area. It’s where we put on our booties and gloves.

It was also where all the researchers, and visitors, put on pink contamination suits that made everyone look like big pink cotton balls.

Each locker room also had a shower and sit-down toilet with walls and a locking door. The locker room was where we changed from our street clothes into scrubs.

Usually, before going into the Vivarium, I’d change into scrubs first.

It did sound like a drug, but this time I was just going to wear one of those pink cotton balls instead.

I pulled Beth into the men's locker room.

At this time of night, there was no reason for anyone to be in there, and there wasn't. I took a quick look around to make sure, then got on one knee, took her hand and asked again, "Beth, will you marry me?"

"No!" Beth laughed, folded her arms, and turned her back on me.

“But, you already said yes,” I asked, almost whining.

"Not until I know for sure that you're not crazy. I don't want our kids to turn out to be psychos."

I raised my hands in defeat, “Ok, will you marry me, if I turn out not to be a psycho?”

She laughed and got down on her knees with me.

"Of course I'll marry you, stupid, even if you turn out to be crazy. I'm just playin' wit' ya."

"Man, you had me going there for a minute," I said, wiped my brow, and then we kissed.

I once again put the ring on her finger. The wrong one it turns out, as she put it on the right one, then tugged my arm, to put mine on.

I stopped her. “Wait, I want to do this right,” I said and slowly wriggled the ring off her finger and put it back on the right one.

“You're mine now, sucker,” she said after putting the ring on mine, and we kissed again, and that one was even nicer than all the ones before it.

When I finally caught my breath, “I can't wait for the beatings to begin.”

She laughed, "Ok, let's go get that Cat and see, once and for all, if our kids'll be crazy or not."

"Let's go make some money," I added and tied the pink cotton ball around and over my backpack with the package inside. I put on some gloves, and then a bootie on each foot, as I stepped over the yellow de-contamination line.

Beth watched and did everything I did.

"I feel like a big pink cotton ball with this suit on, and you definitely look like one," she laughed, put on the gloves, and then the booties, as she also crossed over the line.

I took another deep breath, “Ready?”

She nodded, and we went through the doors. I pulled her gently in the right direction.

Beth pretended to ooh and aah appreciatively like she was really impressed with all those closed doors that we were passing.

Basically, the Vivarium was one big square with four corridors that formed the outside perimeter. In the center was another corridor that separated the square in half.

As we passed that center corridor, I pointed out which side Cage-Wash was on.

“I'll show you inside some other time,” I told her, and we continued down the outside corridor.

When we got close, I could see that the blinds were open. I stopped Beth and snuck up to take a look inside.

The coast was clear.

I used my card to get us in, and Beth was right behind me. I closed the small curtain, walked across the small room and turned the knob that led into the Secret Room.

It was locked. "Damn! This can't be right. She told me she’d leave the door unlocked for me. Damn."

I climbed up on the desk and hollered into the room, “Amy, are you in there?”

I thought I could hear someone whispering, but other than that, nothing.

Dreading the worst, I looked around for something to use on the door.

While Beth watched me searching the room, she asked, "Is this it Criminal? Is this the end of the prank?” and then paused, before adding, “All I have to do now, is imagine there's a talking Cat behind that door, but unfortunately, I don't actually get to see it. Was that your whole plan?

“I don’t think so, and I believed in you, Captain,” she said, and then turned gruff.

“Now get me in that fucking room, so I can see this talking Cat, or I’ll fucking pound you.”

Getting pounded had to be better than being shot, but neither sounded fun.

I thought about calling Darryl in, but before doing that, I tried rattling the knob while pushing hard on the door itself, and that's the exact same second it opened by itself. I went tumbling into the room and onto the floor.

"I told you he was a dumbass, Amy, but at least he's a prompt dumbass.”

After getting up off the floor, I brushed myself off.

"You told me you were going to leave that door open, Cat!"

"We agreed on 12:15, and it’s now 12:15, exactly. Not my fault you were a minute early, Pumpkin Pie,” the Cat said, and then turned to look at Beth before continuing, “and, I take it this is your lovely and charming girlfriend? Beth, I presume?"

That's when Beth fainted and, given the circumstances, was still better than falling out of the chair, like I did.

Luckily, I was standing right next to her, and all I had to do was put my arms out to catch her.

"I know the feeling," I said and placed her gently into a chair.

Then, I noticed someone else standing next to me with a damp towel in her hand.

"Here, put this on her forehead. It'll help. It did me."

"You're Amy, I presume. The night-crew lead."

"Not for much longer, sorry to say.”

"Where are my manners," the Cat said from behind the desk. She was typing away, stopping to read, clicking, reading more, and then typing again.

"Criminal, this is Amy and vice-versa. She's the one who got me scheduled for extermination. Nice woman, otherwise."

"You've got to learn some social skills if you're going to go out into the real-world, Cat," I said, feeling like such a hypocrite, because who was I to lecture anyone about social skills.

"Are you guys really going to take her away, so she doesn't get hurt?"

"That's the plan," Beth said from the chair and took the wet towel off her forehead.

"Did I just faint?"

"You swooned like a beautiful dove, my dear. I wish I’d videotaped it, it was quite glorious," the Cat said, actually saying something nice for once. "I believe you might have enjoyed watching it yourself."

I looked at Beth, and she was just staring, with her mouth wide open, at the Cat, just staring. Then she swallowed and looked at me, "That Cat can talk. It can really talk."

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I told you so,” I said, but then amended myself, “Hell, that’s not true. I loved telling you that, and now, we’re both hallucinating."

She reached over and grabbed me by the collar and almost screamed, "That fucking Cat can really talk," and then she looked back at the Cat. “You can actually see her mouth and tongue form the words, as she says them. That's fucked up."

I grabbed both her hands, "You know what this means don't you?"

"What?" she asked in an almost crying voice, as she kept staring at the Cat.

"It means our kids won't be crazy."

"Oh that,” she said and came back to Earth.

She looked back at me with one of her crooked smiles, “That's too bad. I was kinda looking forward to it."

"Looking forward to it? Looking forward to us having crazy kids? That's crazy."

"It is, isn't it?"

"I hate to break this lover’s spat up, but I'd really like to get the hell out of here."

Beth continued to look at me, while pointing back to the Cat, and mouthing, "That fucking Cat can talk," and then looked back at the Cat and asked, "Can I come a little closer, Miss Kitty?"

"That's the first thing everyone wants to do is touch me. Sure, go ahead. A good scratch right under the chin would be nice, but then please, let's get the hell out of here.”

While she was scratching her under the chin, she also promised that, “In two minutes, we’ll be gone like the wind. Right Crim?”

“The faster we're out of here, the better,” I said, took the pink contamination suit off, and then put my backpack on a desk.

“I got one thing to do, before we do that,” I said, pulling the package out.

“Just hurry,” the Cat said with a sigh, and continued to talk to Beth, who couldn't stop staring at her mouth.

“I know a few things about you, that no one else does, not even the Criminal. Like the time you saved a pigeon's life.

“Two young human assholes, with bow and arrows, had already winged it. It wasn't hurt. It just needed someone to pull out the arrow, so it could fly again.

“They were on their way, not to help, but instead to finish it off.

“That's when you stepped in and stopped them. They could have shot you, but you stood your ground, and they ran like the rest of their kind. That pigeon is alive today because of you.

“You give me hope for the human race, Beth," the Cat told her.

“How?" she said and stopped scratching. "How’d you know about that?"

"Let's just say, that you're a little bit of a hero in the animal world, and leave it at that, ok?"

AmyStrange went on to tell her some of the other stuff that she knew.

While she was doing that, and while I was unwrapping the package, Amy came over, and I had to ask, "So what happened? Do you mind telling me? Where’s the guard that was here?"

"That Captain told him to leave.”

“Is she the one who’s picture switches with the General every other week?”

“Yeah, and she’s nice,” Amy said, and after a couple seconds, added, “Just promise me that you'll take AmyStrange away and take good care of her," and then pointed to the package I was unwrapping.

"What's that?"

"This," I said, as I finally got the twenty plastic bags open, "is what we’re going to leave behind, so they won't figure it out right away. It’ll give us a little time to cover our tracks. We were going to drop something heavy on its head, like that monitor."

Amy looked over at the stand where the monitor was, and then back at me.

"Please, don't tell me you killed a cat just to save this one?"

"No way. I could never do that,” I told her, hoping she couldn’t tell I was lying.

“This one’s from the County Animal Shelter. You know the rule, if no one takes them, they're put to sleep, euthanized, killed. This one was one of the unlucky ones."

"That's so sad,” she said while petting the dead cat, and then looked back at me. “What was your name again?”

"Criminal,” I told her and also petted the dead cat.

“So, what happened?” I asked her again, trying to change the subject. Animal Shelters were a sore subject with me. It was frustrating, because there was nothing we could really do about it, but maybe after we have some money?

“It's still sad for this cat, though,” she finally said, “Sometimes, I hate people. Damn it! I am so fucking stupid. I had a feeling this was going to happen."

She quickly told me what did happen.

When the Cat talked, she went into shock, and so did the other two guys who assisted her. Before she could recover, one of them was turning on the video cameras, and the other was calling people on the phone.

“It was a madhouse in here for a while, but that's no excuse. I usually get off at eleven, but Bart told me, I had to leave. I didn't know then, what he was planning, but I had an idea.”

“Don't beat yourself up too much. I'm the one who suggested she talk to you guys. It's just as much my fault, as it is yours, if not more,” I said, and then added, “Did she tell you about what Frankie, I mean, what Bart was doing?”

“Yes she did, and I didn’t have a clue, otherwise I would’ve said something right from the beginning,” she answered, and then changed the subject.

"Well, at least it's the right color, black, except for a couple white spots. That'll give it away for sure."

"It's the best I could do on such short notice,” I said, and then pulled out a big black magic pen, "but I did bring this,” and started to rub the white parts out with the black ink.

"When I came into work tonight and found out that they were going to cut her open," Amy said.

"I mean, I suspected it, but I still couldn't believe it. I started to get really upset, but that Captain was here, and she helped to calm me down.

“I used to like Bart, but now, all I want to do is punch him out."

"You realize that once they killed the Cat, your job here would’ve been finished."

“Doesn't matter. This was gonna be my last day no matter what happened tonight. I was going to take her myself, but I'm glad you're both here instead. I probably wouldn’t have gotten two far, and that gives me an idea.

“Let me think for a minute. Don't do anything more with the decoy yet. I might be able to help you out there."

"I'll be right back," I said, and walked over to where Beth was giving the Cat a good scratching, right over the windpipe.

"Oh yeah, that's the stuff," the Cat purred contentedly.

"Sorry to be breaking this up," I started.

"Then don't," the Cat said while squeezing her eyes shut even tighter.

"You've got to make the call on this one, Cat.”

“Where's the phone, and who am I calling again?”

“Funny, but can we trust Amy not to sound the alarm, once we get out of here?"

"I really don't have a choice. I'm not staying here one more day. We have to trust her."

"You know you're staking your life on this, right? But, I do agree that we don't have any other choice, not really. I think we can trust her, but like I said, this is your call."

"I agree," the Cat said and sighed, because Beth had gone over to talk to Amy, "and yeah, I know what's at stake here, but Criminal, you should’ve seen her when she came in and found out what was going to happen.

“She's been crying almost the whole time and pleading with me to please forgive her, but no way was I gonna say a thing with those two other guys here.

“I waited until they left to go to lunch, and Amy stayed behind, I forgave her and told her to stay after everyone else left at eleven, and we would talk. We've been talking ever since.

“I told her everything. You wouldn't believe how relieved she was to know that I’d be ok. I felt bad for her."

“What was all this shit you were telling me this morning, yesterday, about being an asshole. What the hell, Cat?”

“I'll tell you about that later.”

"Yeah, I can't wait," I said with a roll of the eyes.

"I saw that," the Cat said pointing a paw at me. I could tell she was about to give me the business, when Beth and Amy came over.

"You should hear this Crim, you too kitty. Amy's got the greatest idea."

"And, I can also use the cat you brought,” Amy said excitedly. “I'll pretend there was a snafu, a miscommunication, and I thought that they wanted me to euthanize the cat for them, and so that's what I did,” and pointed to the decoy.

She was laid out on a lab table near Amy’s cage. It was obviously where they euthanized the mice.

"Plus, and here's the best part," she said, and both her and Beth giggled for a couple seconds, before she continued again, "I'll shave it, and that'll make it harder for them to tell right away that this is not AmyStrange.”

“I love it," I agreed. It was a good idea.

"Bart'll eventually do a DNA run up on that cat, that's his specialty, unless it gets cremated by mistake, and if I'm here even one more day, no telling what'll happen. Knowing you’re about to be fired is such a liberating feeling," she sighed.

“All we need is a couple days.”

"Good. I’m glad that’s settled,” the Cat said and jumped off the table, adding, “I hate to plot and run, but we’ve really got to go.”

“Amy, we trust you'll take care of things here," I said and gave her my phone number. "Memorize it. Don't write it down, please, and if things go crazy, just send me a text saying you won’t be able to make our appointment that morning, and that'll be code for things are getting hot.”

“Once you’ve done that,” the Cat added, “get the hell out of here. We’ll contact you, and then get you somewhere safe. Can you do that?"

“No problem,” She said, and then laughed. "That's funny, your number spells out 'fuck you'."

"What?" I checked it out. It was true. "That is funny," and we all laughed, and then I got serious again.

"Anyway, we got to go."

I put the Cat in the backpack, and that was a lot easier to say, than do. She wanted to go in, but her paws wouldn't cooperate.

Beth started petting her softly, and she relaxed, and then went right in the bag.

"That was good, honey bun," I said while zipping the bag closed.

"I can see why this Cat doesn’t like you."

"You tell him, Beth," the Cat said from inside the bag.

"Please Cat, no more comments until we get out of here," I told her. “I promise to tell you when it’s all clear.”

"I'll think about it," was the last thing she said, until we were almost out the building, and to say bye to Amy.

After that, we got the hell out of there.

As we walked by the security enclosure, I waved to Axel, and Beth showed him the ring. He gave her a thumbs-up, and I gave him the pantomime for, "I'll call you."

He gave me a stern, "you'd better" look, and we were almost out of there, when the Cat screamed from the bag, "GOODBYE SHITHEADS!!"

Axel gave me a, "What's that all about," look, and I thought fast, and turned to Beth, "and that's what your mother told me last night when I called her with the good news."

Beth played right along, "No, I can't believe it. My Mom wouldn't do that," and Axel finally gave us the get out of here sign and buzzed us out.

The door closed behind us, and we were out.

We'd done it. We’d Cat-napped a talking Cat. Try saying that really fast, five times, or even just twice.

We then, literally, ran for the car, and the back door opened. We tried to dive in like normal people but failed miserably.

Once we got in, I said, "Go, go, go."

And Pee Wee went, went, went, while Beth texted Rhonda to give them a heads up.

We back-tracked to where we’d dropped them off.

A couple minutes later, they ducked out of the shadows and walked towards the car in a leisurely, didn't have a care in the world look.

Mouse got out, Rhonda jumped into the front seat, and Darryl into the back.

Once the doors closed, I decided it’d be safe to open the bag, and AmyStrange jumped out.

Mouse and Rhonda were in the front seat and turned around to look. Pee Wee put the car in park, turned on the overhead and adjusted the rear-view mirror.

The Cat blinked its eyes while everyone waited.

Of course, my arch-enemy would be the first one to complain.

"It's a Cat all right. That's for sure, but I don't hear it sayin' a fuckin’ thing," she said while leaning over the front seat, looking at the Cat closely.

"You'll see," was all Beth said.

But this wasn't enough for Rhonda, "Come on Cat, speak," she said and snapped her fingers right in front of the Cat's face.

"Please, stop that Ron," Beth said.

"Thank you, Beth," the Cat finally said. "It’s a bit annoying to have someone snapping their fucking fingers right in front of your fucking face."

That's when my Arch fell out of the front seat, and almost to the floor of the back seat, taking the Cat with her.

Even though I could see that Mouse was in shock, she was still able to grab Rhonda just before she fell.

The Cat turned to me. "Is this the hacker?"

I nodded.

"Tsk, tsk, little girl. I'm so disappointed. I still like you, though, a little less now, but only because you like funny cat videos. You should check the one you downloaded last month, the one with the cat playing the drums, and two more playing guitars? It's got a virus in it.

“Just check the second frame in a text editor, and if you're as smart as I think, you should be able to find it pretty damn quick."

"No way. I run a virus scan on everything I download," my Arch said from the front seat, recovering faster than when I first saw the Cat, but not by much.

"Those things are pretty much worthless, and you know it, especially when someone knows what they're doing. You'll see why the virus scanner didn't catch it, when you see how simple the code is."

"What does it do?" my Arch asked after crawling over the front seat to sit on the floor in front of the Cat, enthralled in what she was learning.

"It allows me access to your computer. You might find that handy sometimes. Oh, and guys," the Cat said to the rest of us, "you should read some of the stuff she writes about you, especially you Criminal."

"You wouldn't?"

"Your secrets are safe with me little girl. Remember, I like you, for now anyway."

"Cool," my Arch said dubiously from the floor, then brightened up. "Can't wait to check it out."

The Cat turned to me, "She'll do Criminal, now about these others, Darryl, Pee Wee and Mouse, I believe. Am I right? I can guess which one of you is Pee Wee."

Pee Wee first tried turning but found that he could see better with the rear-view mirror.

He seemed to be taking this pretty well, except for when the Cat first started talking. You could feel the whole cab jerk, as he tried to turn and look, but when the Cat started talking to him personally, he just shook his head once.

"Yeah, I'm Pee Wee."

"You and your wife are trying of adopt, aren't you?”

"How’d you know that?"

"Ok, I'm sorry, but you have to understand my situation. My life is literally in all your hands. I just had to make sure who I was trusting it with, and Pee Wee, the Hacker and I might team up on this and help you and Mouse out there."

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry. We'll just move you closer to the top. Maybe next in line, or something like that. No big deal, right Hacker?"

"No problem, Big Guy," my Arch said from the floor while whispering something to the Cat.

"I don't know what to say, except, thank you Miss AmyStrange, and you too Ron, and Crim..." he said, and then turned the mirror to look at me.

“I’m glad to admit, Crim, that I was wrong this time. Talking Cats are obviously not impossible.”

Pee Wee started the car, and off we went, back to our house, the house of Mr. and Mrs. Criminal. That just sounded wrong, and weird too.

As we took off, I glanced at Mouse, and she still looked stunned. You could see that she was trying to make logical sense of all this, “How?” was all she said after saving Rhonda, then went into a stunned silence again.

After deep, deep analysis, and after Darryl wiggled his ears, she laughed and asked the most logical question of them all, “How can you talk?”

AmyStrange turned to look at her, “I'm not sure, Mouse. All I know is that it has something to do with genetics. Bart, my creator, modified some of my genes, expecting something else to happen, I guess. I don't know what exactly, but this happened instead.”

“Gene modification,” Mouse nodded, “that's an idea I can wrap my mind around.”

“I have to agree with Pee Wee on this one, Crim,” Darryl said, looking at me, “You were right, and I was wrong,” then down at the Cat who was whispering something to Rhonda.

In his line of work, he had to be able to adapt to any situation instantaneously and naturally. He was really good at it, so it wasn't any surprise to see him take this, in such a matter of fact way. When the Cat first started to talk, I didn’t even see him flinch.

“Seeing it right in front of me... I still can’t believe it. I mean, what are the odds?” Darryl said to no one in particular.

“What are the odds, Miss AmyStrange?” he asked again, this time looking right at the Cat, “That this Bart character modified just the right combination of genes, so that you can not only talk, but also think and conceptualize thoughts, form ideas and then express them in speech. What are the odds?”

"I can’t even begin to imagine the kind of odds you’re talking about, Darryl, but you can just call me Amy, it's easier than the whole AmyStrange thing. In fact, you can all call me that, if it makes it easier."

"I prefer Miss Amy myself," Darryl bowed, as best as he could, from the back seat.

"I'm just gonna call you the Cat," I decided to make it official.

"You would," the Cat answered back, and then turned to Darryl, "Miss Amy is fine. Now you, I had a hard time finding anything about. I have my theories about that, but we can talk about that later, without anyone else around, if you’d rather?"

Darryl got serious, shed all of the disguises, and became who he really was.

“I have no secrets from anyone here. Nothing they really need to know, but I also like to think of them as my hometown crew, my posse, so to speak.

“When things get rough, I know I can count on these guys to back me up.”

He looked at each of us, and then back at the Cat, “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find just one honest and good person in the world today, let alone five of them, and all in the same place.”

“I have an inkling,” the Cat said.

“All good cons know that the best cons are the ones that use the greed of the sucker as the core premise.

“Most people, deep down inside, are greedy, but not these guys, not even a little.

“I wouldn't con them, even if my life depended on it,” Darryl said, finishing the longest speech, I’d ever heard him make.

“You're also a cat-burglar.”

“I've dabbled.”

“And according to my friends, all they could find out about your financial situation was that you currently have ten million dollars in more than one bank.

“You pay taxes, more than your share actually, so the IRS can't touch you, and plus your occupation is listed as a 'Warehouse Co-Coordinator',” the Cat said while chuckling a little. “I like that, by the way.”

“It's what I actually do. It's how I make my money.”

“You mostly co-coordinate jewel shipments, diamonds mostly.”

“It's a legitimate business. I weigh them out and take my pay directly from what I'm moving into the country. I have signed contracts allowing me to do that very thing. You could say, I was a middleman for diamonds coming into the country, directly from the mines, uncut. It’s not a big business, but it is lucrative and very profitable.”

“Ok, that's not that important anyway,” the Cat said, while nodding her head, and then stopped.

“What I really want to know is why?”

“Why?” Darryl asked and looked a little bewildered.

“Why are you here? It's certainly not for the money.”

“Because they're my friends, like I told you,” Darryl said, and that was all he had to say about that.

That's when we arrived at our house. We all got out and headed inside. I wanted to talk to the Cat first.

Beth hung back, and Darryl let everybody in.

“I'll be just a minute hon. I promise,” I told her.

She nodded and went in after everyone else.

After I heard the door click shut, I said, “Before, I let you in my house. I want to know, here and now, why you called me an asshole this morning.”

The Cat looked at me for a second before answering, “Have you ever been threatened with being strapped to a table, conscious and aware, while your insides are ripped out of you one by one? Have you ever had that problem? Have you?”

I hesitated, remembering a lot of my fantasies, and like a mind reader the Cat said, “You've fantasized about it though. Haven't you? Yeah, I can tell.”

“Do you know about what I...”

“Yes, I do. It's in the public records, and maybe I should be the one asking you, if it’s safe for me to go in there with you.”

She had a good point.

“I've changed,” was all I could think to say.

“I know that Crim,” she said and came over to rub the top of her head against my hand. “I was worried about the mice, and couldn’t leave without telling Amy, but then everything went crazy.

“I thought that scream was scary, but that was nothing compared to what Frankie was telling me.

“When everything started calming down a little, and Bart was gone, I started getting pissed. Pissed at everything, especially humans. I told you about what I read about you guys. It’s not pretty reading, let me tell you.

“Blacks, Native Americans, Asians, Woman, and especially what you've done to the animals.

“That one pissed me off more than all the others. Still does really, but you guys, even you Crim. You've all given me hope and saved my life to boot,” she said, jumped to the ground, and headed to the front door.

“Come on, I can’t wait to tell everyone how much I hate them.”

“I think I’ve already heard this one,” I said, and then let her in the house.

CHAPTER 15

Saturday, November 1st (dictated 7:56 am).

Once we were inside, I locked all the doors.

Mouse had everyone’s coat and was putting them in the closet. Pee Wee and Rhonda were on the couch, and Darryl was once again using our TV stand as a bar.

The Cat ran to sit with Pee Wee and Rhonda, and almost immediately started lecturing everyone about how much humans sucked.

Since I already knew where she was headed with this, the sick history of humans by AmyStrange, I excused myself and started up the stairs to update my Journal.

I was half-way there, when Beth came breezing in with all those goodies I chopped earlier and her special dip too.

I knew she had more in the fridge and went back to sneak some up with me. I was snickering to myself all the way up the stairs. This stuff is phenomenal.

When I finished my Journal entry, I joined everyone in the living room again, and no one was talking, except the Cat.

“Sure I admit that you can't just give animals the right to vote, and sure some people say we're the serial killers of the animal world,” she said, looking at me, “but still, the way some of those animals you eat are housed in cages too small to even turn around in. Caged like that for their whole lives. Wow! How can you people live with yourselves?

“And the worst part, even worse than everything else, are your wars. Oh, my fucking God! What the fuck is wrong with you people?!”

She didn’t even wait for an answer but went on and on about how bad we all were, until Rhonda told her to, “Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! We know all about that. Humans are assholes. We get it, but what you don’t seem to get is that not all of us are like that. Some of us are good people.” she said, and then added, “Some of us are trying to stop people like the ones that took my sister. Some of us are... are...” She started crying and couldn’t stop.

Pee Wee and Mouse moved over to comfort her, and that’s when the Cat jumped off Beth’s lap and went over to rub her head against Rhonda’s hand.

“I’m sorry Hacker. I forgot about your sister.”

“It’s ok,” Rhonda said after getting herself back together again. “I just don’t want to be lumped in with people like that, you know.”

“I do, and you’re right,” the Cat said while jumping into Rhonda’s lap, and then looked at all of us. “You people are nothing like Frankie and his two evil pissants, and since we’re on the subject anyway, let me tell you all about that shitty little asshole.”

She said that last part, and then looked at me, before adding, “He’s the real asshole. Not you.”

I’d already heard all this before, but the Cat threw in a few things that I didn’t know before.

Of course, Frankenstein wasn’t his real name. It was Bartholomew, but he liked to be called Bart.

I knew about that, how she got her name, the screaming mouse, the video cameras, and the cage, but I didn’t know that he had two Doctorates.

“Doctorates in what?” Mouse wanted to know.

“One in organic chemistry, and the other, I think, is micro-molecular genetic engineering or some such nonsense. His work is... I've read some of it, and I know enough about genetics, to not know what the hell he's talking about. Seriously, it's like trying to read another language, one made up entirely of gibberish.

“He's smart, but he's also sadistic, and his two wingnuts are just plain stupid, and I hate them too. They’re everything that’s wrong with the human species, all rolled into one sick little threesome.”

Even under Rhonda's careful petting, slow and soft and safe, she still shuddered while telling everyone about the scream.

“I could feel the terror and the pain in it. I know a little paranoia isn't a big deal, but sometimes, it's not your paranoia that's out to get you, but something else, something real and scary, and to me, that was Frankie.

“That's why I talked to you,” the Cat said, looking back at me. “I figured, it was the only chance I'd get. It's true that I liked the night crew better than the day crew, but what if I was wrong? I'd end up on the torture table for sure, but that paranoia kept getting worse and worse, like it was...”

I finished for her, “like it was an acid eating away at everything good in your life, until it was all you could think about. The Darkness,” I whispered that last part.

“Exactly,” the Cat agreed, and then continued, “I didn't want to take the chance, but the paranoia was getting to be too much, and then you kept bringing up all those mice we wouldn’t be able to save.

I figured that would be a good time to tell her what Alicia had told me, but it wasn’t.

“The mice just made everything fucking worse, but now I find out it was all for NOTHING!!” the Cat screamed, and then went limp in Rhonda’s lap.

“How old are you?” Mouse asked, probably to change the subject.

“Almost seven months,” the Cat answered, and then, after looking like she was thinking for a couple seconds, added, “As a matter of fact, seven months tonight.”

“Seven months!” Mouse said and added, “That's amazing!”

“I know,” the Cat said, but that didn’t stop her from continuing her tale of terror.

“I was wrong, wrong, wrong about the night-crew, except Amy. While one of them was on the phone, the other was turning the lights and cameras on. After that, they started poking me, and she tried to stop them.

“As soon as Frankie showed up, the two assistants told him everything, and he immediately got on the phone and called everyone else in.

“While waiting for them to show up, he got down near me and whispered that either I talked this very minute, or he’d drill a hole into my head, and I’d never be able to say another fucking thing for the rest of my short, pain filled life.

“He even went and got a drill and turned it on right near my ear.

“I’ve watched a few cat videos, and I was trying to give them that same vacant look, but that drill scared the fucking... how many lives am I supposed to have?”

Pee Wee told her nine, and she nodded her head, “Yeah, I’m lucky if I got any of those left, after that drill.

“Anyway, after he started that drill and held it right next to my head, I had a tough time keeping that stupid cat look going, but that’s when Amy stepped in, told him to stop, and even unplugged it.

“He laughed and told her to leave, but by then, his two assistants had arrived, and those two military guys were almost right behind them.

“While Bart was telling everyone what happened, I could see Amy on the phone. Bart pulled it out of her hand, slammed it down, and then told her to leave.

“She refused again, and Frankie waved the two military guys over. The One-Star guy told her that either she left right this minute, or she was fired, and then they’d arrest her.

“Amy gave me a worried look, but she had no choice. She had to leave.

“She wasn’t even out the door, before Frankie was trying to convince the military guys that he should do an exploratory right this minute. What’s an exploratory?”

“It’s a surgical procedure,” Beth said, but didn’t look like she wanted to explain the rest of it.

True to form, my Arch was more than happy to oblige.

“Someone slices you open, and then digs around inside you.”

“Oh, shit,” the Cat said, and then looked at me.

“I knew that didn’t sound good.”

“It’s not bad if your under anesthesia,” Darryl said, “but it doesn’t sound like Bart was that kind of guy.”

“He’s not even in the same Universe as that guy, and he almost had the military guys convinced, until Tammy showed up.”

“Tammy?” I asked.

“That Captain woman,” the Cat said, “and as soon as she walked in, she started yelling at everyone. She’s a small woman, but boy was she loud. She even shouted over Frankie.”

“I thought you needed two people to open that door?” I asked.

“Not if someone’s already inside, you know that, but this time, I could see Amy leaving as the door closed behind Tammy.

“Where was I, oh yeah, she was screaming at Frankie, and the one-star guy tried to pull some kind of rank on her, but she stood right up to him. Told him something about following procedures and going down some kind of channel or something, and then immediately got on the phone and started making calls.

“She looked angry, but also worried, and I could see her hands shaking.

“After hanging up, she told them they couldn’t do anything until Saturday morning at eight.

“Frankie went into a rage, and the four assistants left almost as soon as that happened. The two military guys called more people, and then that guard showed up.

“While all that was going on, Tammy had taken me out of the cage and into the other room. She kept telling me not to worry, but as soon as everyone left, she called someone on the phone and spent the rest of the night pleading for my life.

“When she left, she also told the guard that he could leave.

“I almost left, as soon as she did, but that’s when you showed up, and I finally had a target for all my anger.

I gave you that note and sent you a nasty ass e-mail, but the way you said Amy before you left... you weren’t pretending. You really were worried, and I don’t know what the fuck it was, but I decided to trust you and even got back in my cage.

“I regretted it, the minute Bart showed up.

His two ass-wipes were right behind him. I tried to pretend to be sleeping, and I actually did get some sleep, but not much.

His weenie droppings kept poking me, while Bart explained to me, in detail, what exactly he was going to do to me while turning on and off something that buzzed. I didn’t sound like that drill.

“One of them started hitting me hard in the head with one of the sticks, but Bart told him not to damage the good parts.

“He didn't seem too happy about it, but they both cheered up when Bart explained to them, and me obviously, how he was going to skin me alive with a rusty razor blade.

“They all laughed about that, until Tammy came back to make sure I was still ok, and stayed with me until Amy and the night-crew came in. I got most of my sleep while she was there.

“She left when Amy got there but came back just before Amy’s two assistants left at eleven, and they talked for a few minutes.

Tammy left again, and that's when we had our heart to heart, and then you came through Criminal,” she said, and then looked around the room.

“All of you came through and saved my life, and that brings up the money.”

The look of surprise on everyone's face told me that everyone had also forgotten all about the money, just like I had.

“That's right, the money,” I said, and added, “which also brings up, where in hell are you getting this money? I know you've already explained it to me a couple times, but I'd like my friends to hear it directly from you, just to make sure I explained it right.”

“I agree,” the Cat said, “but first, the most important part. If you all check your debit card accounts, you'll see that fifty thousand dollars has been added to each one. The original ten thousand is now a bonus.”

She then turned to look at me, “You both also get fifty thousand.”

Everyone pulled out their smart-phones and started tapping. Rhonda said, “Wow!” first and everyone else soon followed suit with their own expressions of surprise.

“Why aren't you checking Criminal?” the Cat asked me.

“I believe you, besides why would you give them the money and not us? Now, about the money. Where is all this coming from?”

The Cat ignored me at first while she explained to everyone else that, “There's another half million to anyone who'll help me get my two friends out of where they're being held. I’m trying to get you each a million, but right now, a half a million is as high as they’ll go.”

A half a million was a lot of money and I could see everyone's eyes light up, even Darryl's. “The money, Cat?” I asked again.

“They're the ones I'm getting the money from.”

“But, where are they getting it from? Tell them.”

“I have an idea, but I don't really fully understand it.”

“Come on, spill it.”

“Remember, a half a million to anyone who helps me get them out. Ok, ok, Criminal. Jeez, anyway, my friends have learned the art of hacking from a cat's point of view, and they're good, even better than the Hacker here,” she said pointing with a paw towards Rhonda.

“That, I'd like to see,” Rhonda said defensively.

“Don't get me wrong. You're good, but they're better. Don't forget that video with the cat playing the drums.”

“Oh yeah,” she said quietly, remembering what the Cat had told her earlier.

“Anyway, they've been able to hack into hundreds of different banks all around the world. They stay away from the really small ones, because there's not as much money to steal, but they hit one once just to see if they could do it, but generally they stay away from them.”

“And,” both Rhonda and Darryl asked at the same time as the Cat stopped, and they bumped knuckles, while Darryl pointing at her with his other hand, “Jinx. You owe me a soda.”

“Damn,” Rhonda said put on a pouty face, but that was soon replaced by a look of intense interest.

“And?” she asked again.

The Cat first explained the intricacies of banking, what she could understand of it anyway, and ended with the four-digit decimal trick that banks used, and that I explained earlier.

She ended with, “Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Mouse said, and then added, “you can write a dollar with either two or four zeroes, but those last two are only a fraction of a penny...”

“Exactly. Thank you, Mouse,” the Cat said, “and that fraction of a penny, when you're talking about just one customer, is practically meaningless, but...”

“When you’re talking about thousands of customers,” Rhonda said, sitting on the edge of the couch in rapt attention.

“How about hundreds of thousands, or even millions of customers? That's thousands of dollars, tens of thousands of dollars per bank,” Beth said shaking her head, “and if you hit an average of ten a month, randomly, from all over the world, you can steal millions. Even after only a decade, we're talking billions.”

“So basically,” Darryl said, “your friends are bank robbers?”

“Technically, you're right, but who did the original robbing to begin with? The banks. I personally think it's wrong? Two wrongs don't make a right, as the expression I think goes, but this was going on long before I was born,” she said, and then shook her paw at us, “and don't forget, that makes all of you an accessory. Or, you can just give the many back. That's your choice.”

While everyone was expressing their opinions about the money, I saw a worried look on Pee Wee’s face and went over to talk to him.

“What do you think, Wee?”

He looked at me conflicted, “I don't know, Crim. I really don't know. One part of me, wants to keep it, but another part doesn't want to go to jail either.”

“What if we pretend we don't believe her. Think about this for a minute, Wee,” I said, holding my hand up.

“Before today, would you believe someone when they told you a talking Cat gave them money on a debit card, and that money was from a bank robbery that was committed by two other talking Cats? Come on dude, you yourself told me that talking Cats were impossible.”

“Well, I do have to admit that I had serious doubts. Hell, I didn’t believe you for a minute, but now... that's a good point actually.”

The Cat was now addressing that very point, “They set-up an Investment Corporation in Delaware that does most of its business on one of the small islands off the coast of South America somewhere. I can't remember the name. They also bought the island, and the residents now pay a small percentage of the rent they used to pay.

They also all work for that same Investment Corporation, and they all make good money too.

“Even with all that expense, the corporation still makes a load of a money, especially during the tourist season. It's all legal. You’re all listed as Consultants, and you'll also be getting the proper tax forms at the end of the year. I suggest you use them. Getting a lawyer would also be a good idea,” the Cat said, looking directly at me.

Getting tax and financial advice from a talking Cat, at four in the morning, was not something I could’ve ever imagined doing, even if I let my fantasies run wild for a million years.

Four o'clock, I thought and looked at my watch. It was closer to five, and suddenly I felt really tired. My adrenalin was finally coming back down to normal.

I looked at everyone else, and they all looked the same way I felt, tired, but before they left, Beth offered everyone one last shot of Jack in celebration for a job well done.

I liked the idea, but not that she gave one to my Arch, and also to the Cat!

Beth came over with mine. “Beth, what are you doing, giving a fourteen-year-old liquor, and a Cat?”

She thought about it for a few seconds, “I think you're right hon,” and then moved on to Mouse.

“What in hell does that even mean, I'm right?” I said, and wanted to add, what about the liquor, and what about the Cat, but she’d already turned around and was offering the toast.

“To AmyStrange and the possibility of a half a million dollars. Cheers,” she looked at me pointedly, when she said that last part. Half a million was certainly tempting, but the Cat was nowhere in sight.

After the toast, everybody stayed around for a few more minutes before getting their coats and leaving.

Pee Wee and Rhonda stayed last. Mouse had driven her own cab here, just in case, and she left just before Pee Wee did. Rhonda was getting a ride from him.

Rhonda asked Pee Wee to wait, because Beth had a coat for her to wear home.

“That sweater you were wearing, it's cold out.” She handed her a small leather jacket, and my Arch loved it. “It's yours if you want it.”

She put it on over her hoodie and kept thanking her.

“This is mad-cool awesome. Thanks Beth,” she said and gave her a hug.

That was nice, but all I could think about was, what the hell kind of parent would let a fourteen-year-old out until five in the morning, on a Friday night no less?

I put on my happy-you-came face and shook Pee Wee’s hand.

“Nobody would believe it. You're right Crim. No one would believe any of this. Hell, I don’t believe it, and I was here!”

Trying to help one last time, “It's a corporation, man. We're just contracted out help, or you can call it an investment in your Company from a silent partner. Other than that, we have nothing to do with its day by day operations.

“We Cat-napped a Cat, yeah, but you guys had nothing to do with that part.”

“Are you kidding me, we drove the getaway cab.”

“The only thing I remember is calling you for a cab ride,” I said and pulled out my wallet, and then gave him forty dollars, “There, that’ll make it official.”

He took it reluctantly.

“I'll talk it over with Mouse. She's the smart one in the family.”

“You're not dumb Wee,” Rhonda said.

“When it comes to numbers, forget about it, anyway, we’ve got to go. Maybe I'll stop by, before I start work later tomorrow... uh, today, if that's ok?”

I told him that’d be fine.

“I didn't get a chance to say bye to Amy, I personally loved what she was saying about humans. Some of us are a sorry lot,” and started down the steps to his cab.

“Yeah, you sure are,” my Arch said and then kicked me in the shins. No, not really, but I could see it in her eyes.

As Beth joined me at the door, my Arch smiled sweetly and told us, “You both have a lovely evening, sorry morning, and tell the Cat I love her.”

When I closed the door, I could've sworn she was a little tipsy.

“Why did you give her liquor?”

“Oh, come on hon,” she said with that crooked little smile, that always got me, and then turned serious, “Is this going to be a problem?”

“Well, yeah, especially if you're going to do this with our kids.”

“God, no Criminal. You’ve got to admit that something like this doesn't happen often, if ever? We made more than a hundred thousand dollars and saved a Cat’s life. How often does that happen?”

“Talking of which, have you seen her? You didn't see her leave, did you?” I said, feeling a small panic attack coming on.

My question was answered, when I heard the sound of flushing coming from our bedroom.

Oh Christ, I thought, and then the Cat came prancing back into the room, “Sorry, did I miss something? Where is everybody? What did you do with my adoring audience? Did you throw them out Criminal?”

By the time she finished, she was sitting on the back of the couch and looking down at me, like she was the judge and jury, and I was the accused, the Criminal. Ha, ha, I thought to myself.

“What were you doing in the bathroom?”

“Nice contraption you’ve got there.”

“Most people call it a toilet,” I told her.

“Toilet,” the Cat said while rolling it around with her lips. Even after a week, it was still just so freakin' weird. It was like watching a really good CGI movie in real life.

“For some reason that word feels dirty, and oily too, don't you think?”

Beth was already rolling it around in her mouth and nodding, “It does feel dirty, like dirty oil.”

“You're right,” I said after trying it, “But it's just our perceptions of the word itself that makes it feel dirty. Plus, it doesn’t help that ‘oil’ is part of the word itself.”

“Good point,” the Cat said, “and it's also true. You really can't use the word as a compliment, like, you smell so good, just like a toilet. I don’t think anyone would go for it.”

Beth giggled, “You could compliment them on having clean ones, you know like, I love that your toilets are so clean.”

“I don't know,” I said, just to disagree, and then added, “It could depend on who you told this to. Especially, if they had some kind of psychotic phobia about their toilet and had an extreme obsession to keep them clean. You might be playing with dynamite on that one.”

“Is that all they taught you in those psychology classes? Doomsday scenarios?” Beth said, shaking her head.

“Well, it might not be highly probable, but still you should keep it in mind, if you're going to start going around telling people they have clean toilets.

“Then again, I just thought of something, toilet water. That's supposed to be some kind of perfume, but why anyone would decide to describe perfume as toilet water is beyond me.”

“Criminal?”

I turned away from Beth to look at the Cat, “Yeah?”

“I have to say, I love how clean your toilets are. You can literally eat out of them. Except, I wouldn’t.”

We laughed, and the Cat fell off the back of the couch. That got us laughing again, even harder.

I could even hear the Cat laughing from behind the couch, “I'm ok. I'm ok,” and that got us going again.

I hadn't done that much laughing since, since the last time I smoked a joint, or Wednesday with D, or last week with Beth.

It felt good, I thought as I finally caught my breath, which sobered me up a little.

Eventually Beth and the Cat also caught their breaths, and that’s when an overwhelming need to go to sleep hit me.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m bushed,” I said, got up off the couch and gave Beth a kiss. “I’m gonna catch up on my Journal, and then catch some sleep.

“I'll talk to you in the morning Amy. Sleep wherever you want. I don't care,” I said and headed up the stairs. “I’ll see you in a little bit, babe.”

“Take your time sweetie. I'll probably be dead to the world when you finish,” she said, and I don't know why, but they both laughed at that.

The Cat caught me, just as I got to the second floor, “Criminal?”

I turned, “Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“I'm sure you would've done the same for me.”

“Umm, probably not.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” I answered, and just before closing the door, I could’ve sworn I heard the Cat ask Beth something about some guy named Jack, but I didn’t get all of it.

After finishing and before calling it a night, morning, I checked the online news for any early morning animal abuse cases. So far, nothing.

It felt like it took me almost an hour to get to this point, but in a minute, I’ll be in my bed catching up on a week’s worth of sleep.

I can’t wait.

EXCERPT FROM PART 2

CHAPTER 16

Saturday, November 1st 10:13 am (5 hours missing).

I was exploring an underwater world, when a phone floated by and started ringing. I picked it up, “Hello?”

The second ring woke me up, “What? Speak up. I can barely hear you,” I shouted and opened my eyes.

I was shouting into a hairbrush, and Beth was laughing. Even after she closed the bathroom door, I could still hear her.

The phone rang again, and I finally found it.

Why didn’t she answer it, I wondered, but then said, “Hello?”

Static and then a voice mumbled something, that I didn’t quite catch.

“What’s that again?”

Static, and then that voice came echoing into my head, like a bad dream suddenly becoming real.

“Ron’s missing.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book is also in the memory of my Mom, because she taught me a lot about people and encouraged me to write whenever I had the chance.

I want to thank my two sisters for the same reasons. I love you both equally, and that may be a platitude, but it’s also true.

I also want to thank Caty, Tiffany, Doug, and Mark. You know who you are, and you should also know why.

I’d also like to give a shout out to my landlords, Joan and Sarah, because without their kindness and understanding, this book would never have been started or finished.

And finally, I want to give a very special thanks and love to my Memere.

When I was young, I wrote you a letter explaining how the Grand Canyon looked to me, and you told me that it was so vivid, that you really didn’t need to be there to visualize how amazing it looked.

You also added that I should be a writer, because I was really good at it, and I’m sorry it took so long to get the words down that you inspired.

And I’m sure if you were still here, you’d love all of them, but you’d probably still complain about all the swearing.

ADDITIONAL TITLES BY THIS AUTHOR

(ALL ARE, OR WILL SOON BE AVAILABLE AT AMAZON.COM)

AmyStrange & the Criminal Series:

PART 1: THE ESCAPE

The Criminal, his fiancée, and secret friends help AmyStrange, the talking Cat, escape from her captors.

PART 2: THE DISAPPEARANCE

The Criminal's pretend arch-enemy disappears, and it's up to AmyStrange to find her.

PART 3: THE ROAD TRIP

The gang heads to Seattle to help rescue two of AmyStrange's cat buddies.

COMING SOON!

PART 4: THE WEDDING (AKA: Warning: This Book Is Not for Children)

The gang runs around the country finding missing persons, ending with The Wedding of Beth and the Criminal.

PART 5: THE KILLINGS

Someone’s killing black cats, starting from the West Coast, and it looks like they’re headed straight for AmyStrange.

PART 6: CORPORATION

Beth and the Criminal are enjoying their upcoming parenthood, but what’s left of The Corporation wants them dead.