made for the shelter of the cemetery in a joyful surge.
There was not one second to trade war stories. They were barely inside the old stone wall when footsteps could be heard coming up the hill again.
âTake cover!â Khalia warned. A minute later, a much larger group of hard-hats entered the graveyard and began to look around for what had frightened the first bunch. Once again, the cats hid in the weeds. So well did they make themselves invisible (this time even the kits were quiet as mice) that not a whisker or a tail was seen between the gravestones, and the men went away looking mystified and uneasy.
That afternoon, to the delight of the cats, the bulldozer at the bottom of the hill didnât start up again.
Â
Potterberg Evening News
HAUNTED CEMETERY HALTS ROAD CREW; OFFICIALS INVESTIGATE
A crew of town road builders was reportedly set upon and terrorized this afternoon by unknown attackers in a long-forgotten cemetery along Interstate 95.
The crew was clearing land for a new access road to serve the Potterberg Shopping Center, west of town, when the assault began. Some workers interviewed said whirling devils descended without warning and appeared to rise out of the graves themselves.
âIt was terrifying!â one worker reported. âWe all ran for our lives. I believe the place is haunted!â
Mayor J. M. Blunt, appearing before reporters with his chief of staff Milton Farley, urged the community to remain calm.
âWe are in the process of investigating this incident, which Iâm sure has a logical explanation,â he said. âI encourage residents to go ahead with their shopping at the Potterberg Shopping Center.
The area is being monitored for security. Police see no immediate danger to life, limb or the pursuit of business as usual. Shoppers are urged to contact authorities should they encounter any further disturbance.â
CHAPTER SEVEN
T he victory of the cats over the highway construction crew was so unexpected that at first no cat could believe it.
Even after the second road crew had gone away, wary silence continued in the graveyard and all eyes remained watchful. At last, a few cats crept from their hiding places to sniff the air. Others slunk forward to peer down the hill. âAll clear!â they signaled with a wave of tails. Then the rest straggled out to see for themselves and begin the task of smoothing their rumpled coats.
The kits! Where are the kits? A cry went up. Everyone looked for those tiny balls of fur, those helpless babies whose strange appearance among them had so far brought such a change of fortune.
A short distance away, the little ones were spotted with Shredder. They were in high spirits, scampering under the trees, leaping off the stone walls, clawing each other playfully and acting, as usual, like the most ordinary of kittens.
No one looking at them would think they were at all special. No one would guess they could change anything, much less inspire a mass of down-and out cats to drive off an official road-building crew. For this, all believed, was what the kits had done. As dusk fell, the cats crept near the little ones and set up watch again. When Shredder mentioned that the kittens might be hungry, a dozen cats sped away to the Dumpsters to forage.
Later, while the kits dined royally on shrimp rolls, other cats made them a mossy bed between some gravestones. Only after all three were tucked in and had fallen asleep did the highway cats close their own eyes and take some much needed rest for themselves.
In this way, several days passed. No sound came from the clearing below. The road workers didnât return, though at every hour they were expected and dreaded. The bulldozer remained where it was, looming silently over the chewed-up path of forest floor. The cats steered clear of it. Most hardly dared venture from the graveyard at all. Only hunger could bring them down the hill to the Dumpsters. (The highway seemed too far
There was not one second to trade war stories. They were barely inside the old stone wall when footsteps could be heard coming up the hill again.
âTake cover!â Khalia warned. A minute later, a much larger group of hard-hats entered the graveyard and began to look around for what had frightened the first bunch. Once again, the cats hid in the weeds. So well did they make themselves invisible (this time even the kits were quiet as mice) that not a whisker or a tail was seen between the gravestones, and the men went away looking mystified and uneasy.
That afternoon, to the delight of the cats, the bulldozer at the bottom of the hill didnât start up again.
Â
Potterberg Evening News
HAUNTED CEMETERY HALTS ROAD CREW; OFFICIALS INVESTIGATE
A crew of town road builders was reportedly set upon and terrorized this afternoon by unknown attackers in a long-forgotten cemetery along Interstate 95.
The crew was clearing land for a new access road to serve the Potterberg Shopping Center, west of town, when the assault began. Some workers interviewed said whirling devils descended without warning and appeared to rise out of the graves themselves.
âIt was terrifying!â one worker reported. âWe all ran for our lives. I believe the place is haunted!â
Mayor J. M. Blunt, appearing before reporters with his chief of staff Milton Farley, urged the community to remain calm.
âWe are in the process of investigating this incident, which Iâm sure has a logical explanation,â he said. âI encourage residents to go ahead with their shopping at the Potterberg Shopping Center.
The area is being monitored for security. Police see no immediate danger to life, limb or the pursuit of business as usual. Shoppers are urged to contact authorities should they encounter any further disturbance.â
CHAPTER SEVEN
T he victory of the cats over the highway construction crew was so unexpected that at first no cat could believe it.
Even after the second road crew had gone away, wary silence continued in the graveyard and all eyes remained watchful. At last, a few cats crept from their hiding places to sniff the air. Others slunk forward to peer down the hill. âAll clear!â they signaled with a wave of tails. Then the rest straggled out to see for themselves and begin the task of smoothing their rumpled coats.
The kits! Where are the kits? A cry went up. Everyone looked for those tiny balls of fur, those helpless babies whose strange appearance among them had so far brought such a change of fortune.
A short distance away, the little ones were spotted with Shredder. They were in high spirits, scampering under the trees, leaping off the stone walls, clawing each other playfully and acting, as usual, like the most ordinary of kittens.
No one looking at them would think they were at all special. No one would guess they could change anything, much less inspire a mass of down-and out cats to drive off an official road-building crew. For this, all believed, was what the kits had done. As dusk fell, the cats crept near the little ones and set up watch again. When Shredder mentioned that the kittens might be hungry, a dozen cats sped away to the Dumpsters to forage.
Later, while the kits dined royally on shrimp rolls, other cats made them a mossy bed between some gravestones. Only after all three were tucked in and had fallen asleep did the highway cats close their own eyes and take some much needed rest for themselves.
In this way, several days passed. No sound came from the clearing below. The road workers didnât return, though at every hour they were expected and dreaded. The bulldozer remained where it was, looming silently over the chewed-up path of forest floor. The cats steered clear of it. Most hardly dared venture from the graveyard at all. Only hunger could bring them down the hill to the Dumpsters. (The highway seemed too far
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