Клэр Донелли - Last Licks

Today, however, Shadow didn’t want to close his eyes. What if he fell asleep, and the Old One somehow managed to escape? So Shadow lay glaring up at the sleeping two-leg, who snored away, oblivious, while the cat did his best to hide his impatience, except for the occasional flick of his tail.

The phone rang, and the Old One jerked awake. He spoke for a few minutes, then put the phone back down and pulled himself more upright, rubbing his face with his hands. With a groan, he pushed himself off the couch and went to the kitchen, sticking his face in the box that made things cold and coming out with a bottle. The Old One looked at it, shook it, and then drank from the bottle, emptying it. Shadow took advantage of the distraction to get down a bite or two of dry food and a swallow of water.

As Sunny’s father went to toss the bottle away, he stared up at the round thing on the wall. Shadow went on the alert. He wasn’t sure what the thing was, but he’d seen similar ones in other human homes. For some reason, the two-legs would look at it and then start rushing around. Still, he expected the Old One to take time checking for his keys and walking to the front door. Instead, the older human was out with the door shut before Shadow could even make a dart for his legs. Frantically, Shadow began leaping up the stairs. He had one chance . . .

Shadow raced along the upstairs hall, into the Old One’s room. He struggled with the screen, pushing his way out, and began climbing the roof. This was the hard part. He had to get around to the front of the house, where the human kept his vehicle.

It was scary, especially the trip down the roof. Shadow feared his paws were going to slip out from under him. But the sound of the truck’s engine starting brought him scrambling to the edge. The ground seemed a long way down, but Shadow gathered himself for a leap.

After all, it wasn’t so bad when you landed on Sunny , he told himself. Down, down he went, landing with a jarring impact that took his breath away. He crouched nervously in the big open space in the rear of the truck. Nowhere to hide. Had the Old One seen anything? Heard anything? But the go-fast merely rumbled and rolled away. Shadow settled down in a more comfortable position, letting his tail encircle his paws.

Wherever we’re going, we’re on our way.

*

Ollie returned tohis room and his bed just in time for the arrival of lunch. Since Mr. Vernon seemed to alternate between carving his chicken cutlet and staring at them, conversation suffered. Finally, Will suggested that he and Sunny go down to the coffee shop and grab a bite to eat.

“Before we go, though, I want to call into headquarters and find out what’s happening—and what they want to do with me.”

He stepped over to the doorway, took out his cell, punched in the number, and had a brief, one-sided conversation, hanging up with a sour look. “Well, at least I’m free for lunch.”

They stepped into the hall, and Sunny said, “Okay, I’ll bite. What did they say?”

“They said the sheriff is coming over here this afternoon to see me, and Ollie, and probably Dr. Reese,” Will replied. “Until then, I’m supposed to stay put.”

Behind him, Sunny saw Camille Thibaud stop dead, her face going chalk white.

“Um, Will, can you give me a couple of minutes? I have to use the restroom. In fact, why don’t you go ahead and get a table? I’ll catch up with you.”

She left Will going around the nurses’ station while she walked farther up the ward, but the visitor’s restroom wasn’t her target. Sunny opened out her stride and caught up with Camille. “What’s going on?” she asked the girl. “You looked as though you were going to jump out of your skin.”

“The sheriff is really and truly coming?” The words came out in a rush, and a bit too loud. Camille bit her lip and tried again. “People have been talking all morning, saying the worst things, that half the nurses and aides are going to be fired, that we’re being taken over by the state . . .” She gulped a breath. “That the sheriff is coming over to close us down.”

Obviously the Bridgewater grapevine had been working full-blast, and the gossip hadn’t shrunk in the telling.

“I don’t think any of that is going to happen,” Sunny told the girl. “He needs to talk to some people, that’s all.”

But instead of calming down, the girl’s face only got scareder. “It’s me,” she whispered. “He’s coming to talk to me.”

“And why is that?” Sunny wanted to know.

“That night when everything happened, when Mr. Scatterwell passed,” Camille said, “it was my fault.”

Sunny stared. “Mr. Scatterwell was your fault?”

The girl quickly shook her head. “No, I mean the other patient, the one who got sick and messed the bed. He kept asking and begging for chocolate. I knew he wasn’t supposed to have any, but I felt sorry for him. So, on my break, I got a bar of chocolate.” A spasm of guilt went over Camille’s plain features. “I should have known there’d be trouble from the way he gobbled it up. But he looked so happy. But then a while later, it went right through him. He was so badly off. And now I hear people whispering about patients getting something they shouldn’t. It’s going to be me. I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

Sunny did her best to calm Camille without adding any more fodder to the gossip grapevine. “Mr. Barnstable has something he needs to discuss with Sheriff Nesbit, and since he’s laid up, the sheriff is coming here.” Camille nodded, but Sunny wasn’t sure how successful she’d been in soothing the girl’s jitters. She headed off to the coffee shop and told Will about her conversation with Camille.

“Poor kid,” he said. “She must be really scared about this job.” Then he grinned. “But she’s got a lot to learn if she thinks a visit from Frank Nesbit is the same as the Last Judgment.”

*

It seemed thatthey had finally stopped moving. Shadow crouched down, breathing deeply through an open mouth, testing the scents around him. He found an odd combination, catching country smells, grass, trees—and was that a squirrel?—but also the stink of smoke from the go-fast things that humans liked to ride around in. He’d encountered that mix of smells before in his wanderings, usually on heavily traveled roads that went through woods. If only he could look . . .

Instinctively, he pushed upward, aiming to hook his forepaws over the wall beside him. Then he’d be able to see where he was.

But he ducked back down at the sound of the door opening, staying frozen until it thumped shut. He listened carefully—yes, the scraping noises the Old One made as he walked were receding. When they got faint enough, Shadow boosted himself up for a look around.

Now everything made sense. He could see country-stuff all around, the source of the green smells he’d inhaled. But they were in the middle of one of those places where the humans left their go-fast things to rest. Even when there was a breeze, bad smells lingered.

Dropping down to the floor again, he pushed with his rear legs as hard as he could, surging upward, clearing the metal side, and then landing on that weird pebble-stuff that humans liked to surround their houses with.

Shadow hid behind the front wheel of the truck, watching the Old One open a door—a very big, heavy door. This wasn’t like the screen door at Sunny’s house, where he could climb up, hang on, and make it swing open. It would take patience and luck to get in.

Once the door swung closed, Shadow crept up to inspect it, scratching gently at the wood. No, it definitely wasn’t going to shift.

So he went onto the grass at the side of the door and hunkered down. His fur blended with the stone in the wall—at least to a casual glance. After a while, another go-fast thing appeared and rolled to a stop. A pair of two-legs got out—male and female. They were younger than the Old One, but older than Sunny. Shadow kept still until they had the big door open, then he darted in between their legs.