ONCE AGAIN, DR. CATALYST POUNDED ON THE STEERING wheel in frustration. Finding it to be an unsatisfactory release of his anger and rage, he grabbed the Maglite flashlight on the seat and slammed it into the dashboard over and over. Finally, he tossed it onto the floorboards and slumped back into the driver’s seat.

The plan had been set up perfectly. During his reconnaissance, he had studied and followed Calvin and Emmet as they left school and returned home. He watched the police patrols who protected them and looked for patterns. The two boys very rarely left the house once home, and the so-called babysitter next door was no threat.

It grew dark early this time of year, which gave Dr. Catalyst time to release the creature before Dr. Geaux and Dr. Doyle arrived home for the evening. At first he’d wrestled with indecision over including young Calvin in his vendetta. It was Emmet Doyle he was after. It was Emmet who’d ruined everything. Perhaps Calvin would survive. If not, then he would be collateral damage in his crusade to save the Everglades.

It was dark when Dr. Catalyst released the Swamp Cat — as he’d started calling it — at the creek. The location was isolated, yet close enough to the Geaux house for it to pick up Emmet’s scent. The creature was now familiar with its mission and comfortable tracking the boy. When the vehicle’s rear door was opened and it was freed from the cage, it leapt to the ground and immediately began hunting.

He’d watched as it traveled along the creek, until it disappeared into the darkness. Dr. Catalyst could still hear it stalking through the undergrowth near the bank and every so often its growl carried through the night air. When there was no longer any sight or sound of the Swamp Cat, he hopped in the delivery van and drove to a spot on the street near the house, where he would have a view of the events. As he watched, he was nearly giddy with anticipation. But then the minutes ticked by, and he grew nervous waiting. In his rearview mirror, he saw a police car turning onto the street. He ducked down until it passed by.

Dr. Catalyst monitored the Swamp Cat’s progress on his tablet. According to the tracker, it was now along the bank, nearing the Geaux house. Silently he willed the beast to move faster.

Headlights flashed in his mirror. He slumped in the seat again but sat up in alarm when a silver Buick pulled into the Geaux driveway. Dr. Geaux and Dr. Doyle hurried out of the car and rushed inside. Glancing at the tablet, the red dot indicated the creature was now in the backyard. Had the boys spotted it and called to alert their parents? Should he activate the homing beacon and recapture it?

No. Unlikely. Emmet Doyle and Calvin Geaux were smart and resourceful. If they had seen the Swamp Cat, they would have called 9-1-1 immediately. Something else was happening here. The tracker still showed the cat in the backyard. What was going on? Was there some alarm, or motion sensor that might have confused or delayed the beast? Rolling the window down, he strained to listen, but could hear nothing.

He waited, sweat forming on his brow and running down into his eyes. Then the red dot on the tablet rapidly moved forward. By the map on the screen, the Swamp Cat was inside the house!

“Yes!” he shouted. “Yes!”

His joy turned to immediate concern a few seconds later when he heard a gunshot, followed quickly by another. Had Dr. Geaux shot the Swamp Cat? No. How could this be? The animal was too fast and ferocious for normal human reflexes. Remembering to look at the monitor, he was relieved to find the red dot moving away from the house. It crossed the backyard, probably jumping the fence, and was now progressing steadily along the creek.

Dr. Catalyst started the truck and sped to the spot where he had released the Swamp Cat. He activated the homing beacon, knowing the animal would return to the van. The beacon emitted the scent it had been trained on, and the van was filled with food.

He waited.

The tracker showed the red dot moving in his direction. Taking his position behind the open rear door, he kept one eye on the tablet and one on the darkness, but it was still shocking when the powerful animal burst out of the underbrush. It vaulted into the pen and Dr. Catalyst quickly lowered the cage door. He jumped up into the cargo bay and turned on his flashlight. The creature snarled at the light, stalking back and forth in the cage, but there were no signs of blood. It did not appear wounded, although its face and the fur around its shoulders were covered with some strange white substance.

Dr. Catalyst was relieved the Swamp Cat had not been seriously injured. In the distance he heard sirens. Lots of sirens. It was time to find out what had happened. He drove back to his spot on the street just in time to see several police cars and ambulances arrive.

As he watched, he put on a hat and turned up the collar on his jacket. Neighbors were exiting their houses into the street to investigate the commotion. It would not do to be recognized.

A few minutes later, paramedics emerged from the house, with someone on a gurney. Moments later came another one. Calvin Geaux stood next to it. Part of Dr. Catalyst was glad his creature had spared the kid. It was not entirely his fault the Doyle brat had corrupted him.

Dr. Catalyst held his breath, waiting for his moment. There would be a smaller body on a gurney, covered in a sheet, and the weeping, hysterical Dr. Doyle walking next to it. Finally he would have his victory.

When the next set of paramedics emerged, he sat stunned at the wheel of the van. Emmet Doyle, illuminated by the flashing emergency lights, was walking next to it. It appeared he didn’t have a scratch on him. It must have been his father who was injured. Emmet stepped into the ambulance and it pulled away.

“No!” he shouted, pounding his fist on the steering wheel again. “No! What does it take to kill this kid!?” Nothing he tried worked. Emmet Doyle was a magician!

And that was how he found himself, a few hours later, driving toward Miami. Looking in the mirror, he checked his disguise. He had dyed his hair blond with an over-the-counter coloring kit and wore a fake mustache. Now dressed in a police uniform, he was driving a Florida City police cruiser.

One way or another, it was time to end this.