Warriors: Dawn of the Clans #2: Thunder Rising (27 page)

C
HAPTER
1

Ripple stretched drowsily in the shade
of a bush with glossy dark leaves. His belly was comfortably full, and he could still taste the mouse he had caught in his hunting session with Arc. Half asleep, he remembered the small gray body scuffling through the grass, and the sense of triumph as he pounced and felt his claws grip his prey.

This is one of the best days ever,
he thought.

A panic-stricken yowl flew into Ripple’s ear like a claw. He sprang up, shooting out from the shelter of the bush and staring around wildly. Nearby stood Arc, his back arched and his black fur bristling to twice his size. As Ripple stared at him in dismay, he let out another desperate yowl.

“What’s the matter?” Ripple cried. He had never seen his calm, wise mentor like this before.

Arc didn’t reply. Following his horrified gaze, Ripple saw that the edge of the Park was surrounded.
Twoleg monsters!
They were much bigger than any he had seen before on the Thunderpath that passed the Park.

Their shining yellow bodies edged forward with throaty roars, and the nearest one opened glittering jaws with teeth as long as a cat’s body. Ripple stared in disbelief as it clamped those jaws deep into the earth. It was eating the Park!

“What’s happening?” Ripple wailed.

His mentor seemed to pull himself out of his panic. Racing over to Ripple, Arc gave him a shove toward the far side of the Park. “We have to get out of here!” he snarled. “Come on!”

Pelting along beside Arc, Ripple dodged through a crowd of Twolegs who were using some fierce, growling creature to bite through a tree. Its shining fangs sliced through the wood as easily as Ripple’s claws had sunk into the mouse.

“They’re destroying everything!” he gasped. “Why? It’s so peaceful here!”

“Not anymore,” Arc grunted. “Run!”

As the two cats raced past, the wounded tree let out a massive groan, tilted slowly to the side, then crashed to the ground. Birds flew upward, letting out loud alarm calls, and the wind of the tree’s fall ruffled Ripple’s pelt as he fled.

Twolegs were rampaging through the Park. Everywhere Ripple darted his frantic gaze, he could see destruction.
Why . . . why?
But there was no answer to his anguished question.

Then Ripple spotted a group of Twolegs heading across the park, carrying small dens of shiny mesh. There were cats trapped inside, clawing at the mesh and yowling to be let out. Ripple’s jaws gaped in disbelief.

“Look!” he meowed, halting for a moment in sheer horror. “There’s Dart . . . and Shine . . . and that’s your sister Flutter!”

Arc gave him another shove. “I know,” he responded, his voice full of grief. “But we can’t help them. Keep moving!”

He dodged to one side to avoid a Twoleg who was bearing down on them, and Ripple followed, racing along in Arc’s paw steps until they reached the wall overlooking the river. This was the farthest part of the Park, and so far no Twolegs had appeared. Ripple could hardly believe that only that morning they had sat there to meditate.

Arc glanced back as they reached the wall. “This way!” he panted. “If we run along the top we can escape.”

He leaped up to the top of the wall, and Ripple followed.

As he landed, a louder roar from one of the monsters broke out behind him. Startled, Ripple jumped backward. His paws slid from under him; gray stone rushed past him. He let out a screech of terror as he found himself falling.

Ripple whirled through the air, his legs and tail flailing.
I’m going to die!

A heartbeat later he plunged into the river, all the breath driven out of his body. He sank into darkness, with nothing to hold on to. His senses began to spiral away.

Then there was a burst of light as his head broke the surface. Gasping and coughing up water, Ripple thrashed his limbs in a panic.

One paw struck something solid; he drove his claws into it. He was gripping a floating log. He managed to haul himself onto it with a frantic scrabble.

A caterwaul sounded overhead. Sunlight on the water dazzled his eyes, but as Ripple looked up he caught a glimpse of Arc, still standing on the wall high above him.

“Ripple!” he yowled.

With a last, desperate effort, Ripple lunged for the riverbank. But a wave washed over him, and his head went under again. When he first resurfaced, he could see nothing but surging water. Then, as he twisted his head, he spotted the log bobbing in the current beside him. Gulping and choking, he managed to scramble back onto it.

I’ll be carried away . . . or drown . . .

As the river swept him along, Ripple looked back at his mentor, now no more than a small black shape on top of the wall. Spread-eagled on the log, Ripple gazed back until Arc, and with him everything Ripple had ever known, had vanished out of sight.

Ripple was shaking with cold and terror. When he had caught his breath again, he drew his paws up until he was crouching in the very middle of the log, as far away from the water as he could get. His pelt was soaked, plastered uncomfortably to his sides.

The river carried him past Twoleg dens and gardens stretching down to the water’s edge. Gradually the current was carrying the log closer to the bank, and as the sun dried his fur Ripple began to feel more optimistic.

Maybe I can get to shore and find my way back to Arc.

Surely the Park would not be completely destroyed. Ripple’s life would return to the way it had always been.

As the river bent into a wide curve, the log was driven toward a place where the current had scoured a hollow in the bank. Branches and bits of Twoleg rubbish had collected there. The log bumped gently up against the floating debris and stopped.

Ripple sized up the distance to the bank.
Can I jump that far?

As he bunched his muscles for the leap, he heard a high-pitched yowling, and a couple of Twoleg kits came running along the bank. Ripple blinked at them hopefully. He had never had much to do with Twolegs, even the ones who left food for the Cats of the Park.

Maybe they’ll help me,
he thought. “Hey! Over here!” he called out, rising shakily to his paws.

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.