Fur, Feathers, and Claws

Chapter 1-3

“Do you ever shut up?” Tucker mumbled.

RJ did—finally—as he stuck his hands out into the torrent from above. He rubbed them together, sniffed them, and then washed them some more in a stream running from the top corner of the wall. He stuck them up to his nose again, and when they apparently passed inspection, he cupped them for more runoff, and then scrubbed his face. “Better,” he declared. “Now…” He turned his head in four directions, and then his whole body, ending where he’d started. “Stick to the wall line,” he said. “Oh, crap!” It seemed as if he’d had a sudden thought. “What if all that s**t’s from the mama lion?” RJ looked like he was going to faint. He actually stumbled, and had to reach out for the wall to brace himself.

Tucker snickered.

“Man up,” Clean Hands told himself. “Just f*****g get it over with.” He puffed up, squared his shoulders, took a really deep breath, and then a few steps. “Oh, f**k!” He hadn’t gone far before coming face-to-face with someone obviously unexpected. “Pretend it’s not there. Pretend you’re a bear! Pretend it’s not there. Pretend you’re a bear! Pretend it’s not there. Pretend you’re a bear!” RJ repeated the mantra three times with his hands clenched into fists.

And just like that, “Holy s**t!” Tucker whispered. His voice as filled with venom. He knew exactly who RJ was. “But how in hell…?” He glanced toward the others. Everyone but Sam was still focused on Olivia. “Good,” he muttered. “So far, they don’t seem to realize anything is up. When the more sensitive animals start getting nervous, then I’ll—Jesus! Now I’m talking to myself.” He gave a thumbs-up toward the porch area the others sat upon. “Keep telling your stories Olivia. I have a rat—the rotten human kind—that I need to dispose of.” Tucker had changed his mind about how. “It’ll be a piece of cake. And it’s going to be quick.”