The Nine Lives of Felicia Miller (34 page)

Date? Crystal?

“Really? That’s wonderful.” As soon as Felicia spoke the words she realized how patronizing she sounded. As if Crystal was some total loser who was lucky to ever hook up. “I mean, it’s good that she’s getting over her shyness. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Some boy named Nelson. Do you know him?”

Felicia almost dropped the phone, her mind a swirl of emotions.

“Nelson?” she finally managed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why? Is there something I should know?”

“No. Just tell Crystal I called. I’m sorry I missed her call.” Hanging up her cell, Felicia slumped over her vanity with her head down on her forearms.

She suddenly felt ill. Instinctively aware that her friend was in danger.
Grave danger.

Nelson has no interest in Crystal. He’s using her. Using her for sex.

Or using her to get back at me.

Anger boiled up like lava in her veins. She raised her head to look into the mirror and for a fleeting second saw eyes that were more cat than human.

359

Wally leaned on his shovel and took a sip of beer. The weather was nice but digging the rocky soil at Devils Point was hard work. He was tired and achy and covered in sweat. A hunting rifle waited nearby, propped against a sapling.

The sun was setting fast, but the hole was already big enough for a human body. He dug some more then paused for another sip of beer. The three cans he’d polished off should have relaxed him, but he was still feeling jittery. Imagining how the evening would unfold, and what might go wrong.

If they killed a big jungle cat tonight and it miraculously transformed into Felicia, they would dispose of her body quickly and no one would ever be the wiser. The whole town knew she was an unstable flake lately. Nelson would spread rumors that she ran off to Hollywood or New York, seeking stardom.

If, on the other hand, the big cat didn’t transform after they killed it, they would haul its bloody carcass into town and be hailed as local heroes.
Heck, we’d probably make the national news. Teens kill exotic man-eating cat in small town America. Local boys free their fellow citizens from predatory monster.

We could parlay that into some serious bank. Not to mention all the pussy we can eat.

He laughed at how appropriate an ending that would be.
Cold dead cat. Hot live pussy. Talk about your yin and yang.

Hot damn, that would be the perfect happy ending.. The town’s terror would be over. All past sins forgiven. I could rebuild my posse from scratch. Recruits would line up for miles. There are always boys around looking for adventure. For the kind of daring exploits my crew is known for. Boys who’ll follow me into the mouth of hell itself and take the fall if they have to… just like Oogie and Marky.

However this drama ended, Wally felt it was a good bet he’d soon be back on top where he belongs.
All I have to do is kill one stupid animal. And I’m packing all the heat I need for the job.

He planted his shovel in the ground and popped another can of beer. His skin felt cool and gritty, with a layer of dust in his sweat. The beer tasted good. But his thoughts were still tinged with uncertainty.

Crystal is another matter. If the dead cat does transform into Felicia, and Crystal’s there to witness it, things could get ugly fast. One word from her implicating us in Felicia’s death, and hell will rain down on our heads. No one would believe what actually went down. That we’d freed the town from the jaws of a fiendish shapeshifter. All they’d know is that we killed the town’s darling little bitch. The star of their dumb ass school shows.

Crystal will need to be silenced before it becomes an issue. Can the little bitch be threatened… or bribed… to keep her trap shut?

Doubtful. Highly doubtful.

Wally tossed his empty beer can away and grabbed the shovel.

Better make room for two.

359

Felicia dug frantically into her schoolbag and pulled out a cardboard box. Opening it she removed two objects she’d created that week in art class. Items she had planned to use some time in the distant future. But it looked like now was the time.

She held up an object in each of her hands. Two huge papier-mache fangs.
Let’s hope this works, for Crystal’s sake.

Opening her window as wide as it would go she hurried back to her vanity and stared into the mirror. She positioned the giant fangs in her mouth. They fit nicely, molded to slip right over her teeth. But they looked absolutely ridiculous. After all, they weren’t intended for a teenaged girl’s face, but for the mouth of a saber-toothed tiger.

She stared at herself in the mirror. She looked like an actor in a goofy comedy sketch, with seven-inch fangs drooping down past her chin.

My God, you look like a dingbat. I sure hope it’s worth it.

She hadn’t intended on attempting this change for quite some time. She’d planned on continuing her smooth succession of gradually larger wildcats; becoming a lioness… then a Bengal tiger… and then a snow white Siberian tiger.

But with no time to paint her face and two boys who were probably armed and setting some kind of trap, she had to gamble on taking a giant leap.

She had researched the prospect online, and pondered her odds of success. Would it even be possible to transform into a long extinct species like the Smilodon? The last sabretooths were killed off 10,000 years ago.

On one hand, that seemed like an insurmountable length of time. But they had roamed the earth for two million years, so their extinction could be considered quite recent, when put in relative perspective. And unlike lions and tigers, they were native American species, so maybe that would help the transformation.

The biggest question was whether she could transform without painting her face. There were no fossil records, no remnants of sabretooth hides to indicate what the actual colors of their fur had been. According to her research the sabretooth fangs could grow more than a foot and their bodies over half a ton. But that was for Smilodon Populator, the largest breed. If she transformed into such a large cat, she’d never make it out her bedroom window without a great deal of noise and property damage. Her parents wouldn’t be happy about that.

She settled on Smilodon Fatalis with its smaller fangs and body. It was still massive. As big and powerful as a Siberian tiger. Just big enough to fit through the open window.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, focusing on her eyes so she wouldn’t get distracted by how silly she looked with the monstrous faux fangs. If the transformation failed, she’d feel doubly idiotic. And she’d still have to do what she could to rescue Crystal, using only her human resources.

Oh my god
… A disturbing thought hit her as she glanced at the oversized fangs.
What if I misjudged this whole thing and I turn into a frickin’ walrus?

Jesus, no! Stop worrying about stupid shit. It’s cats only, remember? That’s your totem. Remember what Ruta said. Intention and will power. You have to stay focused. Besides, it’s too late to back out now.

As the sun dipped past the edge of the earth and the last rays of sunlight faded, Felicia felt an unprecedented rush of power shoot up her spine and her body started expanding with the energy. The change was happening fast. Much faster than normal.

She hopped off the vanity stool before her weight could collapse it and landed with amazing grace for a quarter ton beast.

In the living room below, her father glanced up at the ceiling, wondering what the loud thump was, and thought about going to investigate. But before he could bring himself to put down his martini, his favorite weather girl appeared on TV, and he settled back to enjoy her full figured forecast
. Felicia must have knocked something over.  She’d call out if it was anything serious.

Padding across her bedroom floor as slowly and quietly as she could, Felicia approached the window and peered out into the night. Primitive longings stirred in her breast. It was as if she was seeing the ancient stars for the very first time.

With a mighty flex of her haunches she flew through the open window and pounced down hard on the lawn.

Sucking in a massive lungful of air she lifted her head towards the sky. Intoxicated with life and power, she was tempted to announce her presence to the world… but stifled the mighty roar she longed to unleash.

359

“W-where are you t-taking me?” Crystal was growing nervous as Nelson accelerated towards the edge of town. “This isn’t the way to the mall.”

“Screw the mall,” Nelson said in his silky voice, “The mall will always be there. I thought we’d take advantage of this lovely Spring evening to enjoy a bit of nature. You don’t have anything against Mother Nature, do you?”

“No,” said Crystal meekly. Inklings of distrust welled up deep inside her. She knew something amiss was in the works, but couldn’t bring herself to challenge Nelson’s control. For better or worse, she was going along for the ride.

“Relax,” Nelson reassured her. “You’re safe with me. There’s nothing to be worried about. I’m very respectful of women.”

No sense in stirring up her emotions. Not until we hook up with Wally and she gets a look at his rifle. Then we can put the barrel right between her eyes, and the scent of her fear will draw the big cat right to us. Right into our gun sights where we want her.

As he made the last turn out of town towards the woods, he thought about how it would go down.

There’d be no problem to take down a big cat with the rifle Wally was packing. They’d had no luck trying to get a gun in Riverside. While they were driving down to meet Wally’s connection, the idiot was shot during a botched home invasion.

But Wally was too stoked on the plan to call it off. He had another option and was quick to act. He simply cut the padlock on his dad’s antique gun rack and helped himself to a 30.06 with a scope.

He knew his dad would be royally pissed when he discovered the broken lock and the missing rifle, but figured his anger would blow over, sooner or later, depending on the outcome of their hunt.

“He’s either going to be proud that I showed some initiative and killed the devil cat,” he told Nelson as he showed off the spit clean rifle, “Or he’s going to try to arrest me. Which will be his final regret.”

359

Owen turned down East Oak Lane and cruised past Felicia’s house. He was on his way to answer a call from her neighbors down the street.

Tired and cranky after a long busy shift, the last thing he felt like doing was spending an hour with two old gay guys. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since Wally had his run-in with the mysterious wildcat. The town was a pressure pot of tension and paranoia. The Sheriff station switchboard lit up every time a stray cat crossed someone’s yard.

The men were waiting on their doorstep when he pulled up. Owen nodded politely as they anxiously waved him in. A few years back he might have been less friendly and slower to respond to their call, but as he matured in his world view he came to realize that the men deserved as much respect as any in the county.

Descended from some of the area’s oldest families, they kept a low profile and never caused any trouble. They seemed content to live their lives quietly and discreetly, like any old married couple. They never made moves on the local boys, or on anyone else for that matter.

In fact, the most controversial thing they ever did was to cover their house with flamboyant holiday decorations, which bothered an old busybody who lived across the street, whose sole purpose in life seemed to be finding new things to complain about. And in that conflict, Owen was secretly on their side.

“Good evening, Sheriff. Come on in,” said Jonah. “How about some coffee? I made some fresh kona. I can make you a better latte than Starbucks.”

“No thanks anyway. I’ve had my fill of caffeine for today,” Owen said quietly. He didn’t know what kona was, or latte either. But as tolerant as he wanted to be, he wasn’t about to risk drinking anything they offered that might have cream in it.

“Well thank you for coming,” Vincent said. “We hope you’ll find this interesting, if not helpful.”

A minute later they were seated in the living room of a surprisingly modern and stylish home, more impressive than the nicest homes Owen had yet seen in town.
Hell,
he thought,
nicer than most homes I’ve seen on TV.

Jonah switched on the huge flatscreen Sony and clicked the remote to change inputs. The screen displayed a recorded security video.

“We set up security cameras after our Christmas display was vandalized.”