Rat Song

Chapter 5

The children reacted first. All at once, they abandoned whatever food they'd been waiting for and crowded around the source of the noise. The screeching still hadn't stopped, only grown in volume until it filled the entire town with the creature's pain.

Emma didn't cry at the horrible sound, nor did she run toward the protective comfort of her mother's arms. No, she raced to join the other children with her eyes firmly fixed on her destination, not so much as pausing when William called out to her.

William sprinted after her. While the children squeezed through gaps in the crowd with no trouble, he was forced to mutter apologies to the countless adults he bumped into on his journey toward the animalistic shrieking. Tiny feet stomped on his toes, and elbows dug into his sides as the last few stragglers ran to join their friends.

At last, he broke through to the edge of the town square. The children clustered around the epicenter of the screeching not with fear or curiosity but with cold smiles and clenched fists. Some tiptoed forward with rocks in hand, only for their peers' hushed whispers to make them drop the stones and move to block William's passage, their arms interlocking as they formed a wall of flesh.

Try as they might, the children could not prevent William from seeing the source of the sound.

Air hissed from the gap where one of little Peter Farnsworth's front teeth used to be as he crouched over the cobblestones. A snarl contorted his features as he glared at the creature thrashing against his grip. Though his body was just big enough to hide the damage he'd caused as he loomed over his victim, Peter made no effort to silence the cat's yowling.

"Peter!" The boy's head snapped toward his mother's voice, his face twisted in a rictus of irritation. "Let that cat go this instant!"

Ginger paws lashed out, tearing bloody scratches down Peter's arms as Baron writhed in his grip. Yet, the boy didn't let go. His fingers dug deeper into the creature's sides until yowls turned to screams. "It tried to hurt me," Peter said coldly.

Peter lifted Baron into the air with his hands clutching the cat's bony shoulders. William darted forward, shielding Emma's eyes with his hand. For one horrible, awful moment, he expected Peter to dash Baron against the cobblestones, smashing his skull.

"Enough!" Mr. Farnsworth barked. "Unhand that cat, or else I'll have you sweeping the whole town's chimneys all winter."

"Please let him go," Mrs. Norton said, her voice choked with tears. "Misbehaving or not, Baron's only a cat. I'm certain he didn't mean you any harm."

Despite the townsfolk's pleas, Peter refused to release his hold on the frightened feline. "Why should I? He's been nothing but horrible to us since we got here."

"It was mean to me, too!" Emma glared at Baron with her hands balled into fists. "He hates us."

All around her, children murmured their agreement. The cat was mean, they said. A horrible beast.

A monster.

Baron twisted free of Peter's grasp, yowling as clumps of fur ripped free. With one last hiss, he darted toward the Nortons' house, leaving blood-speckled paw prints behind him.

Peter moved to chase him, but the adults moved to block his path. For a long moment, William expected him to charge through the crowd, attacking anyone who dared to get in his way.

At last, Peter sighed, his hands still trembling with adrenaline.

"Stupid cat." With the original target of his anger gone, he glared at his mother. "Why did you let him get away?"