The Wild Ones

The Wild Ones by C. Alexander London Page B

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Authors: C. Alexander London
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cities of glass and concrete so tall that only slivers of sky can be seen from the ground, you forget about oceans.
    â€œThey abandoned this long ago,” Martyn said. “It has been the home of the Rat King for quite some time.”
    â€œSo . . . uh . . . do we just go in?” Kit asked.
    â€œNo one goes in without an appointment,” Martyn said. “Many a creature has tried, and none has ever come out again.”
    â€œBut”—Kit gulped—“we have an appointment. The owl said so.”
    â€œNo,” Martyn corrected him. “The owl said you have an appointment, and you alone. We will wait outside until you return.”
    â€œBut I don’t even know why I’m going to see him.”
    â€œThe Rat King isn’t a
him,
” Eeni declared. “The Rat King is made up of boys
and
girls.”
    â€œBut it isn’t called the Rat
Queen,
” Kit said.
    â€œWell, maybe it should be—” Eeni answered him.
    â€œPlease, children,” Martyn interrupted. “We have no time to debate this. Kit, you must go. The Rat King will know about this footprint you carry. It is our only hope to find the Bone of Contention before the Flealess evict us from Ankle Snap. It is the only way we will avoid terrible bloodshed. Please, go in.” Martyn gestured to the rusted fence and Kit took a hesitant step forward.
    Eeni moved to follow him again, but Martyn blocked her path.
    â€œHe must go alone,” Martyn said. “No exceptions.”
    â€œBut I made a promise,” Eeni said.
    The mouse didn’t move. Kit looked back at Eeni, worry bristling from every whisker on his face.
    â€œI’ll be right here when you get back,” she promised him. “I still need to school you on so much. I promise. Howl to snap.” She held up her little paws in an A.
    Kit held up his own paws in return. “Howl to snap,” he repeated, then scuttled into the dark of the abandoned building.
    â€œOh, Kit,” Eeni called, “tell the Rat King something for me.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” Kit waited.
    Eeni chewed her lip, thought a moment, and then said, “Tell the Rat King that Eeni, from the Nest at Broke Track Junction, says she’s sorry.”
    Kit scrunched his eyebrows, puzzled by the message, but the expression of worry and embarrassment on Eeni’s face made him decide not to ask what she meant. She knew, and that was enough. Friends, he decided, let each other keep the secrets they need to keep. It’d be up to Eeni if she wanted to tell Kit what she meant.
    So he just responded, “I’ll tell the Rat King—I’ll tell
her.
”
    Eeni smiled and Kit crept away into the dark.

Chapter Seventeen
    THE RATS REMEMBER
    THE air smelled of wet fur and of salt water, sewage, and rotting fruit. Beneath it, a hint of old chemicals. The People were obsessed with cleaning things, dousing their spaces in soaps and perfumes until nothing could live, but of course, the moment the People abandoned their places, life came roaring back. Vines grew on the walls, flowers burst from the broken floor tiles, and succulent insects skittered in the cracks. This dark building was teeming with life, andKit’s stomach grumbled again. He wondered if he had time to stop and eat a grub or two.
    Martyn’s words echoed in Kit’s mind.
No one goes in without an
appointment. Many a
creature has tried,
and none has ever c
ome out again.
    He decided it was best not to keep the Rat King waiting any longer.
    He made his way along the wall in the dark, his claws scraping against the tile. Every step he took made a loud
click
, click, click.
    He passed a row of rusted metal cubbies, some with doors half off their hinges, some shut and barred with metal locks. He was tempted to stop and pick open a lock, see what goodies he could find, but there were signs posted along the walls and on the doors of the cubbies. He

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