Klawde--Evil Alien Warlord Cat #1 Page 3

  Everyone just stared at me.

  “Uh, and then we called a car, which took us back to the . . . um . . . rest stop.”

  The other kids began to snicker and looked to see what Turkey Vulture would say.

  The camp counselor narrowed his eyes at me. “Do you have a phone on you now?” he asked.

  I said yes.

  He shuddered in horror.

  “Does anyone else have any technology?”

  Steve raised his hand. “Does an iPad count?”

  One of the older kids—who I’d heard called Scorpion—said, “What a bunch of losers these little kids are!”

  After walking Steve and me to the cabin with the WELCOME sign on it, Turkey Vulture made us put our devices into what he called the Forbidden Basket. Then he led all of us under the giant Camp Eclipse arch, which he said represented the gateway between civilization and nature.

  As I walked through, Turkey Vulture wrinkled his nose. “The stench of civilization is strong on you, camper.”

  It wasn’t meant as a compliment, but I took it as one.

  CHAPTER 14

  I took a nap and then resumed my search for a teleporter.

  There were large brown boxes scattered throughout the fortress, and I had discovered that this was where the Humans kept their technology. If you could even call it that. It was all so primitive. And nothing even worked!

  Enraged, I batted at the thin black tail of the nearest appliance. Almost all their technological objects had tails with three silver prongs at the tip. Were they for decoration?

  Everything does look better with a tail, after all.

  Then I noticed several holes in the wall that were the same size as the silver prongs on the tails. Perhaps this was a power source?

  I inserted the prongs into the wall, and the object sent hot air blasting into my face!

  HISS!

  I shut it off and began putting more tail prongs into wall holes.

  The results were extremely disappointing. Most of the Humans’ apparatuses had to do with creating light or heat. After more searching, I found what I hoped was a photon gun, but the wire contraptions at the end of it did not fire ten gigajoules of electricity. They just spun around.

  I could not imagine what this was for. You could barely maim even one enemy at a time with it!

  On the bright side, the brown boxes were satisfying in their own right. Like our wonderful sleeping quarters back home. I got in one and took a nap.

  Refreshed, I looked through more of the boxes, but it was hopeless. These ogres did not have multiphasic glob coils or photonic scramblers, let alone an intergalactic teleporter.

  I would have to build one myself out of their junk. It could take weeks! And where would I even work?

  The only place I had any privacy was in the covered box filled with sand.

  I brought their most promising piece of technology inside the box and began to take it apart. It had a timing mechanism and a spinning tray, and it created radiation. Useful.

  I had finally realized what they wanted me to do in that covered box, by the way.

  Pee. And poop.

  The Humans apparently wanted to collect feline excrement. Why, I had no idea, but I refused to supply them with it. Instead, I relieved myself where they did: in a room that contained a shiny white bowl half-filled with a small pool of liquid.

  With one press of a lever, the pee and poop were flushed away and voilà! A fresh pool appeared.

  It was certainly their most interesting device.

  Where were those terrible Humans, anyway? They had been gone many naptimes. Would they ever return?

  I feared the battle had gone poorly for them.

  CHAPTER 15

  Monday Evening.

  “So, did you have fun at nature camp?” my mom asked when she got home.

  “It’s survival camp,” I said. “Did you even read about this place before you signed me up?”

  “Of course I did! Your new school recommended it.”

  “Well, it was not fun. We played Hide-or-Get-Eaten.”

  “That sounds amusing,” she said.

  “It was terrifying!”

  And it was. We got split into two groups: predators and prey. Cedar told me it was just nature tag, but Scorpion and his pals took the kill-or-get-killed concept way too seriously. Their idea of tag was to shove the younger kids into the mud and try to step on us.

  “I see you did some arts and crafts, too.” Mom held up my name badge, which was a cross section of a tree on a necklace of twine. “R-A-T. Why does it say Rat?”

  “It’s my forest name, Mom. And it’s written in blood. My blood.”

  “You have such an imagination, Raj!”

  It was actually just beet juice, but it might as well have been blood.

  “You really need to work on your handwriting, however,” she said.

  Before she could assign me penmanship drills, I went to find Klawde. Instead I found Dad, wandering around the kitchen looking confused.

  “Have you seen my flashlight?” he asked. “Or the microwave?”

  “Sorry.”

  He poked his head into one of the moving boxes. “I swear it was in here . . .”

  I shrugged and kept looking for Klawde.

  Then I heard clanking noises in the basement, so I went downstairs. They sounded like they were coming from . . . the litter box?

  “Klawde?” I said.

  The clanking stopped.

  Two seconds later, Klawde stepped out of the covered box. For the first time, he had that guilty-dog look.

  “Oh, there, there boy!” I said. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about using the litter box! Here, I’ll clean it for you.”

  When I went to open the lid, Klawde hissed and swatted at me.

  “Ouch, okay!” I said. “Your space! I get it. I don’t like it when my parents come into my room, either.”

  Upstairs, I heard Dad at the front door.

  “What is in my shoes?” he yelled. “Is this—oh! Eww! Gross! KLAWDE!”

  CHAPTER 16

  The return of the boy-Human interrupted my work, and I was forced to bury what I had done under the sand and make myself look innocent.

  For the rest of the day, I observed the Humans more closely, trying to understand their ways.

  One oddity was how they ate. Why did they use metal tools and weapons to bring their food up to their mouths rather than just bringing their mouths down to the plate? Could they be so stupid that they never thought of it?

  It dawned on me that perhaps such behavior—as well as the lack of technology in the fortress—was not the state of all Humankind but of these particular Humans.

  I had discovered several other disappointing facts about them:

  1. They were not warlords, or warriors, or soldiers of any kind.

  2. The weapons packs they carried out of the fortress were not, in fact, weapons packs. They were filled with snacks.

  3. Their fortress was not a fortress. It was a mere dwelling. A home.

  4. They were not all “it”s. The one with long fur on the head was a female. The other two were males. I don’t know why it is so hard to tell them apart when it is so easy with cats.

  The last fact wasn’t actually disappointing, but a point of zoological interest. The first three, however, had me thinking that maybe my Humans were not the best examples of their species. Perhaps other, stronger Humans had better technology. Like an intergalactic teleporter.

  To find out, I needed to escape.

  CHAPTER 17

  Tuesday Morning.

  I was barely awake yet, but Mom handed me a granola bar, shoved me into the Prius, and ten minutes later, she was dumping me off at the Welcome Cabin again.

  “Survive!” she called a
s she pulled away.

  I left my phone in the Forbidden Basket and followed the sound of hissing to the Speaking Stump. I don’t know who I was less excited to see—Scorpion and his bully pals or our counselor, who was just beginning his morning talk.

  “Today we will begin to learn the language of the forest!” Turkey Vulture declared. “Wild animals are one with nature, and they leave both tracks and signs for us to follow. Can someone tell me the difference?”

  Cedar’s hand shot up. “Tracks are footprints, and signs are everything else,” she said. “Like claw marks on a tree, or a big pile of bear scat.”

  “Excellent,” Turkey Vulture said. “And we must pay attention to both. Now, comrades, follow me!”

  We marched off into the woods, and pretty soon I was so turned around I had no idea where we were.

  “If you get lost in a forest, you might walk around in endless circles and NEVER get out. But if you find one of these, you are saved!” Turkey Vulture pointed to a narrow dirt track worn into the ground. “A deer path always goes somewhere, because deer—unlike humans—never go in circles, and they never get lost.”

  He led us even deeper into the forest, and then told us to each find a deer trail and use it to get back to the stump. Everyone found one right away.

  Except me. I was lost and alone within minutes.

  After wandering around for what seemed like forever, feeling stupid and scared, I finally stumbled back to the group. Turkey Vulture was on the Speaking Stump in the middle of a lecture about bird language, and everybody had their deer ears on.

  “See? I told you all Rat would eventually find his way,” Turkey Vulture said cheerfully.

  “Welcome back,” Cedar whispered.

  Turkey Vulture began to whistle in high, short bursts, and then he made some cute peeping noises. “You have just heard the sound of a brown creeper and a common yellowthroat!” he told us. “Most people think birdsong is just pretty music, but it is in fact the sound of greetings, courtship, and warnings! Birds are forest messengers, and even their silence tells us something. Can anyone tell me why you don’t hear this much birdsong in your little yards at home?” Turkey Vulture asked.

  “Not enough trees?” one kid said.

  “Too many cars?” another guessed.

  “Lawnmowers!” Steve said.

  Turkey Vulture nodded thoughtfully. “These are not stupid theories,” he said. “But there is one culprit—one vicious predator—that is most to blame.”

  His sharp eyes swept over us, but no one dared to guess.

  “Cats!” Turkey Vulture exclaimed. “Wherever they roam, they hunt and murder songbirds. In fact, the domesticated house cat is the only living creature more destructive than human beings!” Turkey Vulture’s voice grew cold. “If human beings truly cared about nature, they would stop letting these savage, evil beasts out of their homes!”

  Klawde—evil? Now that was ridiculous.

  “If only cats would become an endangered species!” Turkey Vulture cried happily. “Because on that day, my friends, the songs of the birds would be joyful indeed.” Then he hopped off the Speaking Stump and danced around, making a lot of chirping, trilling noises.

  I turned to Steve. “Our counselor’s crazy,” I said.

  It made me want to run home and see my kitty cat right now.

  If only I knew the way.

  CHAPTER 18

  I watched the Humans disappear in their tank. (Which—sigh—was just a motorized go-cart with no rocket-launching weaponry whatsoever.)

  Leaping down from the window, I went to the front portal. Through careful study, I discovered that it worked on a simple lever. All I had to do was reach up, pull it down, and—HA!—I was free!

  Recent surveillance of this zone had revealed the existence of more Earth cats, and I hoped one of them would know which of the local Humans had the best technology.

  Across the road, I’d spotted a flabby, gray-striped tabby who never left one particular window. He appeared stuck to it.

  I had low hopes for that one.

  In the fortress behind mine, however, lived an orange cat who came and went from her house at will through a push entrance specifically designed for felines. Here, at last, was some evidence of technological advancement.

  I hurried toward the swinging cat-size door. I pushed against it as I had seen the orange cat do, but nothing happened. I pushed harder with my head. Still nothing.

  Did it work off a retinal scan? DNA imaging? This was sophisticated technology indeed!

  I waited in a nearby bush until the orange cat came out for her morning exercises.

  “Greetings, feline sister!” I said, exiting the bush.

  “MROW!” she said. She blinked dumbly at me. “MROW?”

  Oh no—not this again!

  CHAPTER 19

  Tuesday Afternoon.

  We had been told not to pack lunches because food would be provided. This turned out to be very misleading.

  “When you know how to forage, the forest will feed you!” Turkey Vulture declared.

  He showed us how to search out berries, wild garlic, chicory, and cattails. The plants weren’t that hard to find, but they mostly tasted like grass clippings.

  Steve did not listen to the part about how to pick and prepare stinging nettles—a lesson he learned painfully—while Cedar called me over to see what she had found under a fallen log. It looked like rice, which I had no idea grew under logs.

  Then the rice started to move.

  “Excellent find!” Turkey Vulture cried happily. “Grubs, beetles, and insect larvae are a vital part of the wilderness diet!”

  He then popped a handful of wriggling white things into his mouth. “Remember that it’s not about taste. It’s about survival!”

  If this was survival, I’d rather die of starvation.

  When we got back to the Speaking Stump, Turkey Vulture said it was time to choose our packs.

  “Our what?” I asked Cedar.

  “Our nature teams,” she said.

  “Why do we need teams?”

  “For Survival Night,” she said. “Without a pack, you wouldn’t last five minutes.”

  “You mean in the game, right?” I said. “Right?”

  Cedar just smiled at me as she nibbled on a cattail tuber.

  I was afraid no one would want to pick me, but when Turkey Vulture asked Cedar to choose her pack, she pointed at me and Steve.

  “Interesting choices,” Turkey Vulture said skeptically.

  Then Turkey Vulture asked Scorpion who was in his pack.

  “Snake and Newt,” Scorpion said, pointing to the two kids next to him. Snake was tall and skinny, and Newt was short and freckled, with long, stringy braids. Neither of them looked friendly.

  “A bunch of coldbloods, eh?” Turkey Vulture said.

  Scorpion nodded. “We were here on this planet first, and we’ll be here last.” They high-fived.

  Turkey Vulture smiled. “I like your spirit, as well as your forest names. But are scorpions indigenous to our area?”

  “No, they’re from the desert!” I called out. “Elba’s more of a temperate rain forest, so scorpions are actually out of place here.” I was so excited I finally knew something. Thank you, fifth-grade ecology unit!

  “Rat, you may not be as ignorant as I assumed,” Turkey Vulture said. “I think the Rat Pack’s chances just improved.”

  Now Cedar and Steve high-fived me, and I was feeling pretty good until I saw the death-ray eyes Scorpion was sending my way.

  Great. I hadn’t made a real friend here yet, but I’d managed to make an enemy.

  CHAPTER 20

  “MROW!”

  It was the same strange word the cats in the prison market had spoken. But what could it mean?

  “Miss, please,” I said slowly
. “My name is Wyss-Kuzz, Lord High Emperor of Planet Lyttyrboks, and I seek answers about the Humans and their technology.”

  “Mrow?” she said.

  No matter how I tried to communicate, she repeated that one word. “Mrow! Mrow? Mrowwww!”

  She must have some sort of brain damage. Maybe the swinging door had hit her in the head one too many times.

  I had no choice but to approach the Flabby Tabby.

  I crossed the road and hopped up to the ledge of the Flabby Tabby’s window. Immediately, the cat showed his first signs of life. He arched his back, his fur went up, and he began to hiss.

  Assassin’s Pose!

  It warmed my heart. At least these Earth cats were not all meek morons!

  “Please, feline brother,” I said. “I come in peace! I seek information on the carnivorous ogres known as Humans.”

  “MROW!” he cried. “MROW! MROW!”

  Was it possible? Could these Earth felines know only ONE word? A word of utter nonsense, no less? Thousands of years on this dismal planet must have turned the entire feline race stupid. I never would have believed it! This was why they had never overthrown the Humans.

  They had become even more stupid than the Humans!

  I was out of options. I knew I needed to learn everything I could about the ogres if I was ever going to leave this wretched planet—and there was only one way to do it.

  I would have to invade their brains.

  CHAPTER 21

  Wednesday.

  “Has anyone seen the toaster?” my dad asked at breakfast, helplessly holding two floppy halves of an English muffin. “I really need it.”

  My mom grinned. “I thought the only thing you needed was your Derek Jeter baseball. Does it not make toast?”

  It was strange—it seemed like all our small appliances had gone missing. Of course, I’d watched Dad spend an hour looking for car keys that were in his pocket, but still.