Hunter didn’t have any time to waste. His fear was that he had left Mittens alone too long. She was a good mother, but even a good mother, alone, scared, worried about the future of her kittens, could do something regrettable. He doubled his pace. When he reached the entrance of the den, he was cautious that no humans saw him enter.
He could hear the humans, but he couldn’t see them. They were hidden by the wrecks that surrounded the clearing. He slipped into the den. “I’m back,” he said.
“So are the humans. I can hear them.”
“As long as they stay up there, and we stay down here, we’re safe,” he said.
“And our kittens, our first brood?”
“They’re gone. I think they have been caught in the cages. It’s because of the boy, Taylor.”
“But why, why would he do that? Why would he take our children? I thought he was good.”
“So did I,” Hunter said.
“I should have listened to you. You knew humans were bad.”
“Not all. The girl who used to scratch behind your ears…she was good. How are the newborns?”
“They’re as good as they can be.”
“You’re a good mother,” he said.
“And you’re the best father.” She reached over and licked him behind the ear. “I’m worried about one of the kittens,” she said.
“One of the kittens? Is he not feeding or—”
A loud human scream, female, echoed down the hole and into the den.
“What is that?” Mittens asked. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know, but I could go and—”
“Hunter!”
A voice rumbled down the hole and into their den. It was the raccoon.
“Hunter, are you there?” he asked.
“What’s happening?” Mittens said. “Are they coming to get us?”
“No, it’s my friend, the raccoon. He said he’d bring me information. Don’t worry.”
Hunter started up the incline. The raccoon was at the top. His head was inside the opening and he was digging, trying to get down the hole.
“What are you doing?” Hunter cried.
“I’m trying to get into your den so we can talk, but it’s too narrow.” He stopped digging, but his head remained partway down the passage.
“What was that scream?” Hunter asked.
“It was a human. I almost ran into her on my way here. I startled her. She jumped up onto the top of a car like she was a cat. But I have to tell you something about the cages, and about Taylor, what he said.”
“You talked to him?” Hunter asked.
“I listened to him.”
“What did he say?”
“He mentioned you, Hunter. He wants to find you.”
Hunter shivered. “He wants to find all of us,” he said. “He wants to trap us, but why?”
“I think he’s trying to help you.”
“If he wants to help me, he should leave me alone,” Hunter said.
“You know I can’t understand much of what they say, but I think Taylor wants to bring you all to safety. He asked me to take him to you.”
Hunter suddenly realized the raccoon was marking the entrance to the den.
“You have to leave before he finds me!” Hunter yelled.
The raccoon lifted his head and turned to face Hunter. “It’s too late. He’s standing over there, watching.”
There was nothing to do but retreat into the den and hope they were hidden in the dark. Hunter had one thing he had to know before he retreated.
“Do you trust him?” Hunter asked before he retreated. “Do you think Taylor really does want to help us?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” the raccoon said. “It may not even matter what you think.”
“Then what does matter?” Hunter asked.
“What’s in your heart may be the only thing that matters. Not what you know, but what you feel and believe. Sometimes you just have to trust.”
“And sometimes you have to not trust,” Hunter said.
“Sometimes,” said the raccoon. “But I have to go now—they’re coming.”
The raccoon pulled his head out of the hole and light filtered down. Hunter retreated into a corner of the den.
“Is everything all right?” Mittens asked.
“Yes, but we need to stay silent. Completely silent.”
“But—”
“Silent!” he hissed. Instantly he felt bad. “Please, we just need to stay quiet. It will be all right.”
There was the unmistakable sound of human feet above their heads and then Taylor’s voice. He was talking, saying things Hunter couldn’t quite hear. But he heard his name.
At the bottom of the tunnel, safely in their den, Hunter and his family were silent.
A beam of light shot into the den. Hunter averted his eyes from the brilliance. The darkness of the den had turned to day. Hunter moved to protect Mittens and the kittens, but the beam was too strong and the light filled the space.
Hunter could hear the two humans. Their voices sounded like cats hissing. They were disagreeing about something. Suddenly the beam of light disappeared and the cats were thrust into darkness. It took a while for Hunter’s eyes to adjust to the darkness. One of the humans left, but one remained.
Taylor’s voice came down the tunnel. It was soft and gentle. He said Hunter’s name. Hunter strained to try and hear what Taylor was saying. But he knew humans could lie with their voices, words and even the expressions on their faces. There was only one way he could tell Taylor’s intentions. Hunter started up the tunnel toward the entrance.
Taylor kept talking, his voice growing louder as Hunter came up and stopped just short of the entrance. Taylor was leaning over with his face practically on the ground. Hunter strained to see his eyes. It was so hard, almost impossible. The outline of his head was clear, but the features of his face were hidden by shadows. Taylor continued to talk. His voice was soft and gentle. And then he stopped, and Hunter heard him walking away.
Hunter returned to the den.
“Is he gone?” Mittens asked.
“I think so, but he knows we’re down here.”
“You have to go! You have to leave before he comes back!”
“I can’t leave you behind.”
“You have to go! You have to save yourself. Please, leave us. We’ll be, we’ll be—”
“You and the kittens would die without me. You need me, and I need you,” he said. “You don’t understand. It’s not just that you can’t survive without me. I can’t live without you. We stay together.”
“But what are we going to do?” she asked.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“With my life,” she said.
“Then you have to trust me now. I know what to do.”
Hunter nuzzled against her. “Trust me.” He reached down and took one of the kittens in his mouth. Gently holding the little ball of fluff by the back of the neck, he started up the tunnel.