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Glick hid in the dark corner under the cabinet, listening to the two Almightys talk. He was starving. He’d found a few dried bugs but they’d been like eating dirt—all dust and shell, nothing chewy or delicious in them. He pushed on his stomach to try and stop the ache. If he didn’t eat soon, he’d die.
He crept toward the front of the cabinet, eyes locked on the food that’d been left for him by the Almighty. He wasn’t stupid. He saw how the meat was tied to a thin wire and the wire was hooked to a door. He was fast but not that fast.
The Almightys walked across the room and left. The laboratory once again fell into darkness. He waited. When it’d been quiet for some time, he slipped from his hiding spot and darted from shadow to shadow, searching for any food. There was nothing but what waited in the trap.
If he poked it with something, he might be able to get a bit of it. There’d been a small stick under the rail near the enclosure. The other Brush-Men rushed toward him as he neared their cage—his old home. They stopped at the glass, staring at him. He bared his teeth, hating them even more than the Almightys at this moment. They were his kind and yet they felt nothing for him, except a desire to kill.
He grabbed the stick and carried it to the trap. He slid it into one of the small openings on the wire surrounding that delicious, juicy, chunk of meat. He steadied it, pushing it farther inside the cage. As soon as it touched the food, the door to the trap slammed shut.
Glick jumped, dropping the stick and racing under the counter. Nothing moved. No one came running. He waited, but everything was still. He crept back to the cage and picked up the stick. The meat dangled from the wire, not even a small piece had broken free.
It was time to try again. The door was already closed, so this time he rested it against the wire. He leaned to the side, pulling the stick and the wire closer. His arms trembled but the meat was getting closer. He had to stay strong, just a little more. The chunk of meat bobbed against the wire. He took a deep breath. He only had one chance. He’d never be able to hold the stick long enough to do this again. He wedged the end of the wood against the cage, and carefully loosened his hold. It didn’t move. He stuck his arm through the opening, snatching the food and pulling it flush against the cage. He wanted to shout in victory as he clawed off a hunk of that meat with one hand and stuffed it in his mouth. His other hand clutched the food so it wouldn’t swing away. His knees wobbled at the bloody deliciousness and he feasted, hanging on the side of the cage.