Innocent

Chapter 16: Street Cats

Ester asked why people are sad.

"That's simple," says the old man. "They are the prisoners of their personal history. Everyone believes that the main aim in life is to follow a plan. They never ask if that plan is theirs or if it was created by another person. They accumulate experiences, memories, things, other people's ideas, and it is more than they can possibly cope with. And that is why they forget their dreams." 

― Paulo Coelho, The Zahir 

I woke up in a dark alley, the sun was beaming down on me like a ray of hope. I was propped up against a dirty red brick wall of a old faded building. A set of dumpsters was near me, and I smelled the stench of something rotting. I settled and stretched and I felt a heavy weight on my lap. I looked down and saw a black cat snuggled in my lap and purring away. The sight made me smile at least something still likes me. I picked him up in arms enjoying the warmth his fur provided. He was probably what had keep me warm during my sleep. I had no idea what day it was or what had just happened. My brain pounded against my skull, as I groaned as I tried to remember what happened. I was rifting through my memories and I sighed as I came up empty. I had no idea what was going on. All I remember was the car crash, and passing out. How I managed to get away was beyond me. I looked at the street cat, who was staring back at me with a similar intensity. I felt my head which was caked with dry blood. My clothes were dirty, with holes, and stained with blood. Pieces of glass were still embedded into my skin from the windshield. Giving a quick glance at my arm I saw that most of the blood had been licked away which probably prevented it from getting infected. I gave an another glance at the cat who yawned and whose tongue was red. The cat had saved my life.

Despite my situation, I smiled again and said to him, "How would you like to be my pet?" The cat began to purr contently, and I was brought back to the kitten Joey and I had once found on the street. Joey had said he was a tom cat. The memory left me with a warm feeling in my chest. I set the cat down, "Let's go, Tom." I started to walk, and I felt a slight satisfaction that the cat was trailing behind me. I glanced around for street signs or something I remembered I found nothing. I walked down, passing little shops that you could only find in small towns. People gave me sideways glances, but I ignored them. They probably thought I was homeless. I checked my pockets for my knife or gun but I came up empty. All I had was two hundred dollar bills. I stopped at a dress shop and went in. Hearing the ring of the bell, I ignored the clerk and I picked out a dress and heels, (because that was the only thing that they sold) and I stepped in the bathroom that was around the corner. Washing my hair with the hand soap and using the sink. I was washed my face and hair. I dried my hair with the electronic hand dryer and I walked out feeling much better. At least my headache was gone. I ripped off the tags, and showed them to the clerk. "134.63." she said. I grinned, just enough for lunch and burner phone. I handed her the two hundred dollar bills and absentmindedly glanced at the muted TV to read the captions. It read:

Breaking News: A group of FBI Agents have gone missing mysteriously after crashing with these vehicles. The men who have taken the FBI Agents are known to have alliances with the Russian Mob. Along with the Agents there seems to be a civilian caught with the crossfire. Sources confirm that there was a civilian with the FBI during the attack, but who that civilian is remains a mystery.

The Russian Mob. I grimaced, I didn't have the best encounter with them since the time when I was asked to steal a bomb and I didn't exactly deliver it the way they wanted. In my defense, I did give it to them, if you count having it blow up in one of their popular meeting centers. Ever since I destroyed their sacred meeting place, we haven't been on good terms. They've been plotting their revenge, good to know it blew up in their faces, again. I tore myself away and faced the clerk and I gave her the biggest smile I could muster. The mob was probably looking for me. "Can I have those sunglasses, too?" She nodded and I quickly paid her and left. I was still happy to find that I had enough money for lunch and a burner phone. I bought the phone off a vender. I carried Tom in my arms I walked discreetly down an alley. I dialed one of Aiden's number.

The phone clicked.

"Izzy?"

"No your mom. Who else is it going to be?"

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"I woke up in an alley, with a cat, and no idea of what's happened to me."

"Maybe you were lonely, and bought a cat."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

"His name is Tom."

"Your cat?"

"No my weapons' designer."

"I thought Ivan was our weapons' designer."

"He is. But that's besides the point. Are you even listening?"

"I am. You have a cat named Tom who is becoming our weapon's designer."

"The Russian Mob is after me and they have just taken a van full of FBI Agents and are probably torturing them for information."

"Where are you? I'll send someone to pick you up."

"Don't bother. I'm going after them."

"With no weapons, no men, and no plan?" 

"Sometimes you have to fall and build your wings on the way down." 

"Sometimes you're crazy."

"That would be all the time, my love." I clicked the phone off and threw the burner phone in the trash. It was time to take down the mafia and save my enemies. So basically it was just another day. I scratched Tom behind his ears. 

"Are you ready to take down the mafia, Tom?"

Tom purred.