In Which Our Magnificent Six Finally Become Seven
The homestead was disturbingly empty, so only Sigrun and Emil went in. Lalli manned the turret warily, while Mikkel readied his doctoring kit and Reynir sat wishing he could be of use.
The homestead, though seemingly made of driftwood and whiskey kegs, was actually quite extensive, with a main hallway that wound back and forth until Emil wasn’t sure whether they were coming or going. Just then, they came back to the main room from the other side, having circumnavigated the residence.
“Well,” Sigrun said, “not much here for us. No signs of an attack, and everything seems in it rightful place, but where’s the other guy we’re supposed to meet up with?”
Just then, Emil caught a faint snarl and hiss from parts unknown. As he was dumb enough to mention it, Sigrun sent him off to investigate.
*
“Hey, Doc!” Sigrun called out as she ambled casually to the wagon. When Mikkel opened the door, she handed him a dusty bottle of whiskey. “Give this to Vision Boy and tell him to get Seeing. I’m going back in, but we should be out soon.”
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG
The shots echoed from somewhere near the back of the place. Swearing to herself, Sigrun hurried.
BANG
Sigrun paused when the shots ended, unsure which way to go. Indecision was anathema to one like her, though, so she plowed forward.
The first thing she saw was a treed wildcat. The first thing she didn’t see was Emil. The next thing she noticed was how badly the cat was mauled.
Coming to a halt at the base of the tree in which the cat had holed up, Sigrun looked the cat right in the eye and said, “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
*
Outdistancing the rabid, slavering dog had given Emil time to reload, and so he turned to face his pursuer down, but the mad dog was gone. Cautiously, Emil went back the way he’d come.
To Emil’s surprise, the dog was loping away with all the speed it could muster. “Come back!” he cried, hardly knowing what he said, or even why. “Let me make it easy for you! You can’t want to die alone and in pain!”
*
Sigrun was only a few feet from the mangled cat when Emil shouted “Rabies, Sigrun!” at her from below. Bare seconds later, while Sigrun was still working out how to get the cat down without infecting herself, the cat passed out. Well, that solved that.
Again, Emil’s quick ears caught a very faint and weak mewling. Bending down, he found where a few bits of the shabby-looking wall had shifted or been moved to form a kitty-sized hole. Through this hole, he could see several small forms lying in some kind of liquid.
When Emil pulled the first kitten out from the hole, the smell nearly choked him. The kittens were lying in a pool of rat poison. How so much had spilled in just that area, he didn’t know, but that odor was unmistakeable.
The stench of rat poison was strong and bitter, but as Emil pulled body after tiny body from the deceptive “safety” of the hole, Sigrun knew the odor wasn’t why there were tears in his eyes.
“Meow?”
The sound had the two of them wrenching at the loose sticks again, until enough had pulled away to reveal the source. A single kitten, far larger than any of the others, had escaped the incident. Or, mostly escaped; while not wet with the poison, it had obviously still inhaled enough of the fumes to be weak and nearly unresponsive to them. But it was alive.
*
“Doc! Help!”
Mikkel came forth, ready for anything... except a sleepy kitten and a gutted, but still barely alive, mother cat.
A single shot from his bag took care of the mother, but the baby would need delicate handling for quite some time. In the meantime, Sigrun, Mikkel, Lalli and Emil went out and buried the others.
Sigrun and Mikkel had gone back in, but Lalli still stood with Emil.
“I don’t suppose you know any kind of sending-off rites for this.” Emil’s tone was melancholy, but Lalli wasn’t listening. A moment later, Emil saw why.
The dog, too exhausted from loss of blood to try to attack now, lay in a pitiful pile some yards distant from where they’d buried the kittens and their mother. Lalli had already drawn his knife and was about to go put it out of its misery when Emil stopped him. Lalli saw that Emil had drawn his own knife and was looking suitably grim. Nodding, Lalli sheathed his blade and stood back.
Emil spoke quiet and soothing words to the poor beast as it lay there, though he was mostly unaware that he did. Even knowing that this was a mercy to the critter, he still had to steel himself in order to finally plunge the blade home, right into its brain.
*
Inside the wagon, the kitten awoke, sniffing at the milk-soaked tuna in front of her. “Yep,” Reynir said, “it’s time to join the living again, sweetie. Uncle Emil just put your mama’s killer down.”
*
As the boys walked back to the wagon, Lalli pointed out, “Looks like every shot hit, just nowhere vital.”
Emil snorted. “Might as well have missed.”
“Nah. No misses is never bad. Brought it down in the end. No danger anymore.” If this epic speech (for Lalli) weren’t enough, Lalli then gave Emil a clap on the shoulder before jumping into the wagon.
