Эрин Хантер - Thunder Rising

The Twoleg kits halted, pointing at him. Then to Ripple’s utter amazement, one of them bent down, scooped up a rock, and hurled it toward Ripple. With a splash, it struck the debris nearby, making his log bob dangerously up and down.

“What did you do that for?” Ripple meowed, full of indignation.

The Twoleg kits let out weird yelping sounds, showing their teeth. The second kit threw a rock, too. This time it hit Ripple on his shoulder, stinging him and almost making him lose his balance.

Why are they trying to hurt me? Ripple wondered.

Ducking to avoid another pebble, Ripple slid to one side, losing his balance, and splashed into the water again. This time he was close enough to the log to grab hold of it before he sank, and kicked out at the floating debris with his hind paws.

His struggles dislodged the log, and the current carried him away from the bank, out of range of the flying rocks. As Ripple hauled himself back on top of the log, he puffed out a breath of relief to see the Twoleg kits dwindling into the distance.

Thank you, river, he thought.

The Twoleg dens on either side of the river became more widely spaced, with stretches of open ground between them. A Thunderpath ran along one side of the river, glittering monsters roaring past in both directions. Ripple crouched down on his log, hoping the monsters wouldn’t spot him; he wasn’t sure if they could swim out and attack him.

Then the Thunderpath took a sharp turn and rose up until it spanned the river in a shallow arch. Ripple gaped at it in astonishment and flinched as he was swept underneath, the water gurgling with a weird echo as the shadow of the Thunderpath covered him.

He went limp with relief as he shot out into sunlight again and the river carried him away, leaving the Thunderpath behind. Now there were open fields on both sides of the river. The grass was divided into sections, sometimes by lines of shining metal, sometimes by rows of bushes. Huge black-and-white animals were champing at the grass; they raised their heads and watched Ripple as the current carried him past.

Here and there in the distance Ripple could make out a Twoleg den, and from time to time he passed trees, not growing neatly in order like the trees of the Park, but straggling far apart, or growing tightly together in dark bunches that looked vaguely threatening.

By now the sun was going down, streaking the sky with scarlet and casting long shadows across the water. Ripple began to shiver in the cool air of evening. Hunger ached deep in his belly. It was way past the time of the Evening Meal, and even longer since he had caught and eaten the mouse, back in the safety of the Park.

If I could get to the bank I could catch another mouse, he thought longingly, but the river was wide and his log was drifting almost in the middle.

As he looked down into the water, Ripple spotted small shapes flickering here and there, slender creatures with pelts that flashed silver in the last of the light. They must be “fish,” he realized, remembering something Arc had told him. He said you can eat them. I hope he was right.

He had never tasted fish, but his jaws began watering at the sight of them. Everything is different out here, he told himself. I can’t trust Twolegs anymore, so I’ll have to look after myself. I’ll have to learn to hunt fish.

Balancing carefully on the log, Ripple dabbled one paw into the water, trying to snag a fish. But the creature easily darted away from his outstretched claws. Ripple felt hungrier than ever to think of all that food just a tail-length away. He could see the fish, but he couldn’t reach them; he almost felt as if they were mocking him.

The sun had gone down, and the river became a sheet of silver, reflecting the pale sky above. Something dark broke the surface a little way ahead. As the current swept him closer Ripple recognized the spiky shape of a dead branch, clearly caught on something on the river bed. As the log collided with it, the branch shifted, then settled again, bringing the log to a halt.

Ripple glanced around. Water slipped quietly past him, stretching away in all directions. “Now what do I do?” he meowed aloud.

He reached out a paw to the branch, hoping that he could push himself off and continue his journey, when he heard a couple of loud splashes behind him. His pelt prickled with alarm as he struggled to his paws and turned to meet this new threat.

Two heads were poking out of the water close to the bank. As Ripple watched, the creatures swam into the current, then veered around and headed for the bank again. Scrambling out, they revealed long, muscular bodies covered in sleek brown pelts. When they reached the top of the bank they dived back into the river, one chasing after the other, clearly playing and reveling in their strength and skill.

Ripple felt a pang of envy. I wish I could swim like that!

A moment later, one of the creatures vanished beneath the surface, reappearing with a gleaming fish in its jaws. Both animals swam back to the bank, where they shared the catch, chomping it down with gusto.

Ripple’s belly bawled with hunger, and he barely stopped himself from letting out a yowl of protest. I want some of that!

When the creatures had polished off the fish, they turned back to the river. For a moment they stood still, gazing across the water and exchanging weird chattering calls. Then together they plunged into the river and swam out, heading straight for Ripple.

They’ve spotted me!

As the creatures drew closer, Ripple could make out their broad, whiskered muzzles and rounded ears. They bared their strong teeth threateningly at him. They were still letting out their strange, birdlike calls; they sounded angry and fierce.

It’s not my fault I’m in their territory. I don’t want to be here!

Terror flooded through Ripple from ears to tail-tip. In the Park, all the cats had lived peacefully together. He had never fought in his life.

Maybe I can warn them off, he thought, determined not to let them see how frightened he was.

He fluffed his fur and slid out his claws, giving a furious snarl as the creatures approached his log. But his defiance only seemed to make them angrier. They swam faster, closing rapidly on him, their calls deafening. Ripple braced himself for battle.

They’re bigger than me, and there are two of them. But I’m going to do my best.

The log lurched beneath Ripple’s feet as the leading animal climbed onto it, lunging forward to snap at him. The creature’s teeth met in his pelt. Ripple jumped back in a panic and kicked out at it, fending it off.

The log bobbed wildly in the water. The creature lost its balance and fell back with a splash. The log moved as the creature fell, and the current tugged it loose, bearing Ripple away from the threatening creatures. As Ripple stared back at them, they called out to him with angry chittering, but they didn’t try to follow. Ripple lost sight of them as the river curved around a rocky outcrop with a thick growth of bushes.

Ripple had escaped, but he felt no relief. Instead, he despaired. The world outside the Park was huge and cruel. Until now, he had always been protected by the other cats, by the sun and the earth, by kindly Twolegs. He had believed things would always be that way.

Now Twolegs and other creatures attack me. And I’m starving. Everything has fallen apart, just as the Twolegs destroyed my home.

Ripple huddled miserably on his log as the last of the light died and the river carried him on into the night.

Ripple was exhausted, but he didn’t dare to sleep. He was too afraid of falling off his log and drowning in the river. Stars appeared, their reflections glittering on the surface of the river, but he was too wretched to appreciate their beauty.