First 12 Chapters - How I Became A Crazy Cat Lady To Survive A Zombpocalyse

8B

Chapter 8B

In her mind, Babs could almost see the trek through Mrs. Thorpe's words as she flipped the pages of the photo album. The grainy sepia images seemed to etch themselves into her consciousness and play like an old movie.

After over two weeks of wandering back and forth across the arid clay-baked desert in the unforgiving winds and cold nights, they found a box canyon containing a city with a carved temple in the end like the one at Petra. Covered with sand and rocks, it was obvious the city had been buried but how was a source of much speculation and debate. Lord Carnarvon ordered the Marines to begin to dig it out because the papyrus describing the city insisted the cursed secret to restoring life to the dead was buried here. Some of the soldiers, annoyed by the large number of cats, began to shoot them for sport when they weren't digging. A week into the discovery, the eight-year-olds Theodora and Penelope couldn't stand it any longer.

"Stop it!" Theodora screamed as she pulled on the soldier's rifle then she kicked him in the knee, and he let go.

Penelope bent over the wounded Desert Cat, crying, and holding her handkerchief over its injury.

The cat meowed painfully as the girl tried to staunch the flow of blood from where a bullet grazed it. "You barbarian! Easy, puss, don't die."

Sergeant Major Lansing, head of the battalion, demanded "What is going on here? Harris?"

"He's killing them. He's killing the cats," Theodora snapped, still holding the man's rifle.

"They're just nuisances. No better than rats, there's no reason for the lassies to get upset."

"No reason?!" Angrily, Theodora raised the rifle to point it at him, "How about I shoot you for no reason?"

Harris chuckled at her threat until she chambered a round and raised it to her shoulder. "Easy, miss. You don't want to hurt someone on accident."

"It's Lady Theodora! And if I shoot, it won't be an accident. I have hunted woodgrouse and rabbits since I was six years old."

"What is going on?" Lord Carnarvon demanded as he strode up. "Theodora, we do not point rifles at people. Give it to me."

Theodora looked about to refuse, but under her grandfather's stern glare, she lowered the barrel and then handed the rifle to Sargent Major Lansing. "He was shooting the Desert Cats, Grandfather, for no reason. He and his fellows have been killing the children of Bastet. I hope they get cursed!" She stomped her foot as she shrieked loud enough it echoed off the canyon walls.

Lansing glanced at Harris and the men behind him, "Is this true? Then I guess you aren't doing enough digging. Get back to the temple. You can work until the moon rises. Or would you rather face a court martial?"

"Sir, no sir." The men saluted him then stomped back toward the temple, grumbling.

Lord Carnarvon knelt next to Penelope, "Let's see the poor beast." He examined the wound. "Well, it's torn his hide and maybe hurt the bones underneath. He'll need stitches and a bit of care."

"I'll take good care of him," Penelope promised as Theodora came back from the corner of a partially collapsed house.

"He was protecting these wee ones. I think their mother was the one I found shot and killed yesterday." She held two kits. "Can I keep them?"

The elderly lord and the soldier glanced at each other with a slight smile. Knowing having the cats to care for would keep the girls out of the way, they agreed. Half an hour later, the large male was stitched and resting comfortably while the kits drank canned milk mixed with water. Her grandfather and the Sargeant Major left to go back to the temple dig.