The Surviving Few (Warrior Cats)

Chapter twelve - achieved empty completion

Drizzlestar emerged through the hole at last. It looked as if it took her a great amount of effort doing so. Poppypaw came after, seeming relieved. Raindrop wished she could thank her, but knew she should not speak before they were a safe distance away from her camp. The rogues' camp. No. Her camp.

"You're alive!" exclaimed Drizzlestar as she laid eyes upon Raindrop and her brother.

They crept soundlessly back to where the others lay in hiding; Drizzlestar followed obediently, no questions asked. Even she realized they would have to wait.

Drizzlestar's gaze swept across Honeydusk, Leafwillow, Sharpsight, Wildfire and Ivywing; she met Goldenthorn's glance with fearless eyes, then dipped her head. Goldenthorn returned the gesture.

"Good to see you," mewed the golden she-cat.

Raindrop was unsure wether to interrupt or not. She was grateful that Ryespring did it for her; the others seemed afraid to speak. Perhaps they were afraid... Drizzlestar was a leader chosen by StarClan, after all.

"We'll talk once we're out of here." Her brother spoke in a harsh voice, but she knew he was glad to see his leader. He had to be.

Poppypaw gave a weak cough. Her eyes, once again, looked oddly glazed. Is she really okay?

"Keep your voices down, now," whispered Honeydusk. "Stay together and stay alert. We only fight if there is no other way out."

Ivywing moved slightly. She brushed against a large branch that stood up just beside her. It appeared to loosen; it fell to the side, making a loud, unmistakable noise. To make matters worse, Ivywing's own scream of terror gave them away at once.

Wildfire pushed Ivywing to the ground, so that the rogues would not see her, but it was too late; at least ten rogues were heading straight toward their hiding spot. They were nearing. We're doomed, thought Raindrop. They're going to end us all.

"We need to go now!"

Leafwillow did not wait for any answers or agreements; she spun around on the spot and raced off. The others followed. Raindrop ran behind Ryespring, Honeydusk by her side and Sharpsight and Poppypaw behind her. Honeydusk was breathing rapidly. If Raindrop had the energy and voice to say, 'remember to breathe,' she would have. She longed to cast another glance behind her. The others had to keep up.

The rogues were behind them, they were closing in on them, they would reach them, unless...

"Split!" bellowed Raindrop desperately. "Meet in bushes!"

But Drizzlestar would not know—

"We'll lead her," said two voices at once. Raindrop's ghostly little sisters headed toward their leader, their transparent coats glowing in the sunlight.

Honeydusk steered slightly to the left. Raindrop was relieved to see Wildfire, Ivywing, Poppypaw, Sharpsight and Goldenthorn pass her, all heading in different directions forward.

She followed Ryespring still; she would rather die together than let him go off alone.

They were nearing a tree. Ryespring cast Raindrop a quick glance. She thought she knew what he was thinking.

They moved so that they were running beside each other rather than in a line, heading straight forward still. If they crashed now, they were dead.

The tree was growing bigger and bigger by the second. It's stem was thick, solid. It was sure to knock out any cat dumb enough to run into it.

"Now!"

They moved to each side, missing the tree by the mere length of a whisper. The rogues behind them had not; judging by the sound, they had all collided.

They had done it.

"Keep running!" Ryespring yelled. He could not quite keep the exhaustion out of his voice. Now that the adrenaline of running from the rogues and playing off such a plan was wearing off, Raindrop was starting to realize just how unbearably weary she felt. Her legs were aching of exhaustion, her eyes felt heavy, her chest pounding. She felt complete and empty at the same time. She knew with certainty that no other cats had survived. She did not know how, she just knew.

...

Raindrop collapsed as they reached the bushes. The others were already there. Ryespring lay beside her, breathing heavily, exhausted. As were they all. Their recently made nests, however, were ripped apart, and the branches of the bush they had slept under were broken and clawed at. The place had been destroyed with the only intention of, well, destroying it.

"The rogues I smelled did this," meowed Ivywing, panting, though she sounded sure for once. "I recognize the scents."