Fleck knew that she had to steal back the weapons that had been taken. It was her duty, as Ember’s spy, the ensure that her side won. But still, she was unsure of who she would rather be the victor. Either way, she hated the feeling of loosing and she wouldn’t just lie down and let that smug spy feel victorious while she felt like a failure.
But Fleck had far bigger problems to worry about. Had the thief recognized her by her face and told Slate that Fleck was a spy for Ember? She didn’t think that she knew anyone that would be a spy, but you never know. And even if the spy had never met her, Fleck knew that it would describe the cat that caught it to Slate or would tell him her name if it knew it.
Fleck pushed the cluttering thoughts aside. She had to focus on her new mission. Ember had given her the okay on executing it and all Fleck needed was her new knife and a large sack and she was ready to go. Ember had provided the sack, which was roughhewn and brown. Fleck was reminded of the thief by the sack, but that was no matter. What brought back truly horrible memories was the blue dagger, but Fleck wanted to get more used to using it and not thinking of the assassination when she did. It was, after all, quite a beautiful dagger that was far more keen then FoeFlayer, her old dagger. She could always sharpen the dagger, but that would take time--time that Fleck did not have the luxury of having.
Fleck had easily fashioned herself a simple sheath for her new dagger, which she had dubbed Sylett, and she fingered the hilt lovingly. The dagger might carry some bad memories, but she still could not help but admire its raw beauty.
Fleck gave herself a quick checkup. She had a small black cloth that she had fashioned into a mask in case she was spotted. She also wore a long navy-blue cloak, as her unique coloring might also betray her identity. She wore her trusty belt, strapped onto which was her new dagger, Sylett. And slung over her shoulder was her pillaging roughly woven sack. She was ready to go.
It was not yet midnight, but Fleck had waited long enough. She knew that it must be close, though. The sky was ink-black and scattered with shining stars. The moon was waxing, growing fuller and fuller by the night. Fleck knew that it was best to execute the mission now, while to moon was still only a crescent and gave off less light. Otherwise, there was a greater chance that she would get caught. And though the increase was small, Fleck did not want to take any chances.
Fleck darted off, towards the cave that she vividly remembered. This was where the weapons were kept. They were guarded, but the Commoners that guarded them did not tend to be very vigilant. The scientists that Slate had to invent new weapons for him and his guards were also in there, but not for guarding. For whatever reason, this dank place was where they slept. The first time Fleck had been in that cave, she had killed a cat. She had regretted her actions the moment that they were executed, but it had already been done.
Fleck looked down at Sylett, who was currently resting harmlessly at her side. “Hopefully,” she said with a heavy sigh, “there will be no need for you nor any other weapon tonight.”
Fleck pressed her ear to the stone by the entrance of the cave. She smiled a trifle smugly pleased that Slate had made her job so easy. As she had done the last time, she pushed her sack through the cave entrance. It would serve as a kind of decoy. If the sentries awoke to the sound of it sliding down through the tunnel and the light thud of it hitting the ground, then they would have detected her. It was best if Fleck was outside of the cave when the guards awoke then in the middle of their gunfire.
When she heard the roughhewn sack fall the stone cave floor, Fleck waited and listened intently. By the sound of it, not a single sentry had woken up. Fleck had not expected them to. Although the cave echoed every sound, the sack had barely made any and the sentries were obviously very deep sleepers. Nevertheless, Fleck was not one for taking chances.
Fleck herself slid through the tunnel, but with less ease. It was long and narrow. Fleck kind of wondered how the sentries and scientists had gotten in. She was the smallest and thinnest cat of all of the guards and, from what she remembered, all of the sentries had been at least moderately muscular and had definitely been larger then she was.
When Fleck had finally made it through the tunnel, she landed lightly on top of her bag. She remembered the vastness and awe-inspiring nature of the cave, but was still surprised at how much it held. It looked so much bigger then she recalled. When she looked closer, she realized that it was. The storage shelves and work tables closest to her were rusty and old, but deeper in the cave, there were newer and had more high-tech weapons and other inventions on them.
Fleck observed that there was a huge, high-powered drilling machine in the back. All around it was a pile of rubble and there was a pair of huge dump trucks that were full to the brim with stones and rubble, evidently from wall. There was a third truck there that held what looked like pieces for new shelves and work tables. The three trucks fit easily in the cave; the walls were tall enough for almost two of the massive machines staked on top of each other. There was a great expanse of what looked like machine-made cave, the floor scattered with rubble, that was empty. Evidently, Slate had run out of room to store all of his weapons, so he had ordered the cave expanded.
Fleck tore her eyes away from the back of the cave and started to examine the shelves for good weapons. She chose to take them off of the newer shelves, because they looked like they had slightly better-quality weapons. Her sack was almost full in a time space of about ten minutes. Fleck decided that she should leave soon. As it was, the sack might not be able to fit through the small tunnel exit.
Just as she was picking up what she assumed would be the last item in her sack, Fleck caught a movement in the corner of her eye. One of the oldest of the shelving units, encrusted with rust and grime, trembled under the weight of the rocket-launchers and bags of ammunition that were on it’s top shelf. Before Fleck could so much as blink, the shelf collapsed onto the one below it with a crash.
All of the sentries awoke with a start, grunting out of their rhythmic snores. In one smooth movement, every sentry’s gun was at the ready and their eyes were searching every corner for an intruder. Fleck hid in the shadows by the cave wall. She inwardly thanked her cloak and mask, which masked her lighter colors and helped to hide her in the darkness.
The sentries began to spread out, searching for the unseen thief that was Fleck. After some time, they found nothing. But they were coming nearer and nearer to Fleck. She clutched the sack of weapons closer to her chest, pulling it deeper into the shadows. A sentry walked right past her, scenting the air for the intruder. Thankfully, the damp cave air masked her scent.
A Commoner sentry called from one of the aisles farther away, “Let’s just get back to our posts. There’s obviously no one here and the selves are old. It must have just collapsed. I told you that we were putting too many Destroyers on that one. Anyway, the others can fix or replace it tomorrow.”
“No,” said the sentry closest to Fleck. “We will instead have half continue the search and another half go back to their posts. I can smell a rat...”
“Oh, yeah, we all know that you’re always right, Cynthia,” one of the other sentries laughed. Several others joined in and Cynthia snorted in retort. Nevertheless, they did as she had said.
Great, Fleck thought sarcastically, That’s just perfect. All I needed was a bunch of sentries guarding the only exit I have and searching for me high and low.
The only exit... Or was it?
How could those massive trucks get in through that minuscule tunnel? And what about the sentries and scientists? There has to be another entrance to the cave... and another escape route.
Fleck recalled the little tabby she-cat scientist that she had been forced to kill. Fleck soundlessly crept over the exact spot where the murder had occurred, right next to the Motherlord ammunition. The scientist had to have sleeping quarters and the other two must, also. Where could that entrance be?
Fleck decided that, after she examined the cave wall for any such entranceway, it must be concealed in some clever way. Fleck felt along to cave wall, abut to no avail. She shifted around the crates of weapons and ammo, and this time her search was payed off. Behind on of the heaping wooden crate full of discarded weapons, there was a small hole carved in the wall. It was plenty big enough for a cat as small as Fleck and was the perfect size for even one of the larger sentries.
With a moment of hesitation, Fleck entered the hidden tunnel, resealing the entrance behind her with the crate. In this cave, witch was a degree smaller but just as tall as the other cave. Nearby, there was a leaver that evidently lifted the massive cave wall by the concealed hole for the trucks to enter. The dimly lit cave appeared empty, but Fleck wasn’t going to take any chances. She kept to the shadows by the cave wall and stayed alert, her eyes peeled for possible dangers.
The tunnel was long, but was relatively straight and the ground was almost completely smooth. Fleck guessed that this was for easier passage for the trucks, which would be full to the brim with their heavy loads. She could see tire tracks in the thick dust, which confirmed her hopes of a nearby exit.
Soon, she came to a fork in the tunnel. She could either continue straight forward and follow the tire tracks or she could go left, into the unknown. Fleck decided on going foreword, as the left chamber probably was the pathway the scientists’ quarters. That would probably lead to a dead end, and Fleck couldn’t waste time. Every second she spent down here she risked her life.
Finally, after a length of time that lasted forever, Fleck came to the end of the tunnel. On either side of the exit, there were huge piles of rubble that towered above even the cave. Pressed gravel formed a well-used and slightly narrow road that marched into the distance, disappearing beyond the horizon.
Fleck dashed in the other direction, her sack of weaponry bouncing at her side, clipped securely to her belt. It was time to give back what had been taken.
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-KittyLover8
© 2013
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