Erin Hunter - Midnight

“We’ll never get out of this.” Tawnypelt echoed Brambleclaw’s thoughts as they lined up to cross another Thunderpath.

“You might as well stop complaining,” Stormfur retorted.

“There’s nothing we can do about it.”

Brambleclaw was surprised to hear such a hostile response from the easygoing RiverClan warrior. But they were all still tired, even after the night’s sleep, and hope was trickling away like water falling onto sand. As Tawnypelt glared, her neck fur bristling, he stepped in front of her. “Take it easy, both of you,” he meowed.

He broke off when Stormfur whipped around and pelted across the Thunderpath, almost straight under the paws of an approaching monster. Feathertail let out a distressed mew and sprang after him.

“And don’t take stupid risks!” Brambleclaw yelled after them.

The RiverClan warriors ignored him. Shrugging, Brambleclaw turned to Squirrelpaw, who was crouching beside him at the edge of the Thunderpath, watching for her chance to cross.

“I’ll tell you when it’s safe to go,” he told her.

“I can do it!” Squirrelpaw spat. “Stop trying to sound like my father.” She leaped out onto the hard surface of the Thunderpath; fortunately no monsters were in sight.

Brambleclaw raced behind her, catching up as she reached the other side. He bent over her so they stood nose-to-nose, and his words came out in a hiss of fury. “If you ever do something so stupid again, you’ll wish I was your father! I’ll be tougher with you than he ever was.”

“I wish you were my father now !” she retorted. “Firestar would know which way to go.”

There was nothing Brambleclaw could say to that. She was right—the heroic ThunderClan leader would never have made such a mess of this journey. Why had StarClan chosen him, why ?

He turned to the old tabby, who was strolling across the Thunderpath as if he had all the time in the world. “Purdy, how much farther is it to the edge of this Twolegplace?”

“Oh, not far, not far at all.” Purdy let out an amused purr.

“You youngsters are too impatient.”

A faint growl came from Crowpaw’s throat, and he took a step toward their guide. “At least age hasn’t cracked our wits,” he snapped. “Get a move on!”

Purdy blinked at him. “All in good time.” He stood still, scenting the air, and then turned decisively alongside the Thunderpath. “This way.”

“He hasn’t got the faintest idea,” Crowpaw snarled, but he still followed. As with all of the forest cats, it was no longer a question of faith or courage. They just didn’t have any choice.

The day seemed to drag on forever, and when the light began to fade again they were limping painfully beside a tall Twoleg fence. Brambleclaw thought the skin on his pads must have been worn off with so much walking on stone; he longed for the soothing coolness of growing things under his paws.

He opened his mouth to ask Purdy to find them another place to stop, only to realize that he could taste a sharp, unfamiliar smell on the air. He paused, trying to identify it; at the same moment Tawnypelt came hurrying up to him.

“Brambleclaw, have you noticed that smell? It’s like the carrionplace, on the edge of ShadowClan territory. We’d better watch out. There’ll be rats.”

Brambleclaw nodded. Now that his sister had reminded him, he could clearly detect the scent of rat among the other foul reeks of Twoleg rubbish. Glancing back the way he had come, he saw that the rest of his companions were spread out behind, worn out by fear and uncertainty and the hard slog of their journey.

“Hurry up!” he called. “Keep together!”

A dry chittering sound interrupted him. Whirling around, he saw three huge rats squeezing under the fence to stand in his path, their naked tails curled high over their backs. Their eyes glinted in their evil, wedge-shaped faces, and he could just make out the gleam of their sharp front teeth.

In a heartbeat, the leading rat sprang at him; Brambleclaw leaped back and felt its teeth snap a hairbreadth from his leg.

He swung a paw and raked his claws down the side of the rat’s head. It fell back, squealing, but at once another one took its place. More appeared from the other side of the fence, streaming onto the path like a vicious, squealing river. Brambleclaw caught a glimpse of Tawnypelt snarling fiercely as a rat sank its teeth into her shoulder. Then two more of them struck him and he went down under a writhing mass of bodies.

At first he could hardly get his breath. The disgusting stink of the rats filled his nostrils, choking him. He kicked out with his hind paws and felt his claws sink into fur and flesh. A rat squealed and the weight on him vanished, letting him scramble to his paws again to slash at another of the vile creatures as its teeth met in his ear.

Just beside him Squirrelpaw was writhing underneath a rat almost as big as she was; before Brambleclaw could make a move to help her she threw it off and hurled herself at it, ears flattened and jaws parted in a furious yowl. The rat fled; Squirrelpaw let it go and turned to aim her claws at another that was clinging onto Feathertail’s back, sending streams of bright red blood running from its sharp claws.

Brambleclaw threw himself back into the battle beside Crowpaw, who was being dragged along the ground with his teeth embedded in a rat’s leg. Brambleclaw dispatched the rat with a single blow of his paw, and spun to meet the next attacker. Stormfur and Feathertail were fighting side by side at the base of the fence, and Tawnypelt, one shoulder bleeding heavily, shook a rat by its tail before dropping it and biting hard at its throat. Purdy had come back too, wading into the mass of rats and tossing them aside with one powerful forepaw.

As quickly as it had begun, the fight was over. The surviving rats retreated through the hole in the fence; Crowpaw aimed a blow at the last of them as its tail vanished.

Brambleclaw was left gasping for breath, feeling a sharp sting in his tail and one hind leg, as he gazed at the remaining rats strewn across the ground, some of them still feebly twitching. Fresh-kill , he thought dully, but he could not summon the energy to gather the bodies together or to eat. The rest of his companions huddled around him, gazing at each other with huge eyes, all their quarrels forgotten in their shared fear.

“Purdy,” Brambleclaw mewed exhaustedly. “We’ve got to rest. What about over there?”

He pointed with his tail to a gap in the wall on the other side of the Thunderpath from the carrionplace where the rats were. Beyond, everything was dark. He could pick up the scent of Twolegs, but it was stale.

Purdy blinked. “Sure, that’ll do.”

This time it was Brambleclaw who led the way across the Thunderpath. Every cat was so worn out that if a monster had appeared it could have flattened them all, but StarClan watched over them and everything was quiet. Crowpaw, Stormfur, and Feathertail dragged rats across with them, while Squirrelpaw lent her shoulder to help support Tawnypelt, who was limping badly and left a trail of blood drops behind her.

Through the gap in the wall there was a dark enclosed area behind a dead-looking Twoleg nest. Rough stones were stuck out of the ground; puddles of greasy water had gathered among them. Crowpaw bent his head to drink and grunted in disgust, but did not have the strength to complain out loud.

There was nothing to use as bedding. The cats huddled together in one corner, except for Squirrelpaw, who went nosing around the wall and came back with cobwebs plastered over one paw, which she pressed onto Tawnypelt’s wound.

“I wish I could remember the herb Leafpaw uses for rat bites,” she meowed.