The Case of the Vampire Cat by John R. Erickson Page B

canyons, I can find the way back to my ranch.”
    â€œI know a trail out of the canyon. It will take us up on top, but it will be dangerous.”
    I looked down at her. “Well, it appears to me that anything we do around here will be dangerous. Trying to carry on a normal conversation with you is dangerous. Every five minutes, you’re wanting to tear out my eyeballs.”
    â€œI’ve been down here too long. It’s made me weird.”
    â€œWhen I told you that, you threw a fit.”
    She shrugged. “Cats are that way.”
    â€œI told you that, too, and you threw another fit. And my name’s not Homer. It’s Hank.”
    â€œWell, my name’s not Kitty. It’s Mary D Cat.”
    â€œI like Kitty better.”
    â€œI like Homer better.”
    â€œHmm, well . . . this is all very interesting, but I guess we’d better get out of here. Which way is out?”
    â€œFollow me.”
    She headed north, through the corrals and beyond, into the deep forbidding darkness of Picket Canyon. That place was pretty scary, even in the light of day, but at night . . .
    Although I had some hesitations and reservations about following a cat anywhere, I did lower my standards to the point of allowing Mary D Cat to lead our group out of the canyon. And stayed pretty close to her, as a matter of fact.

    We had gone about half a mile when we topped a little hill near the place where the trail splits, and the left fork goes over to Scott Springs. The main trail, if you remember, goes on up the canyon to Moonshine Springs.
    Or maybe you don’t remember, if you’ve never been there. And maybe you haven’t been there. But it does.
    Anyways, the cat stopped on that little hill and looked back to the south. She heaved a deep sigh and shook her head.
    â€œI just can’t do it.”
    â€œYou just can’t do what ?”
    â€œLeave.”
    I stared at her in utter, complete disbelief. “What do you mean, you can’t leave? That’s all you’ve been talking about since the first minute I met you—‘Take me away from here, get me away from this ranch!’”
    Once again she was—I couldn’t believe this, just couldn’t believe it—she was crying again! “I know, but it’s still my home. How can I leave the place that’s been my home for two years?”
    â€œEasy. You just keep walking.”
    â€œBut I can’t walk away from all the memories: the sun coming up over the caprock, the wildflowers in the springtime, the mesas sinking into purple shadows at sunset.”
    I’d had just about enough. I stuck my nose in her face and growled. “Look, cat, you’re my ticket out of here. Never mind the memories. Start walking or we’re going to have us a little riot.”
    She humped up and hissed, and her eyes took on that same crazy look I’d seen so many times before.
    â€œListen, bozo, don’t you tell ME what to do or I’ll tear out your eyeballs!”
    I don’t know what might have happened if the coyotes hadn’t appeared just then, but they did and we never had a chance to find out.
    Did they devour both of us right there in one big cannibal feast? You’ll just have to read on and see.

Chapter Ten: I Can’t Believe I Decided to Help a Cat

    O kay, I had gone nose-to-nose with the cat, when all at once I saw a pair of big yellow eyes looking at me.
    And they weren’t Mary D Cat’s eyes. That gave me my first clue that they belonged to someone else, and I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to meet in that canyon on a dark night.
    Then a second pair of eyes appeared. That gave me my second clue that they belonged to someone else. Mary D had only one pair of eyes, don’t you see.
    â€œKitty,” I said in a low voice, “I’m afraid we’ve been found by the coyotes. You’re the survival ex­pert around here. What do we do