The Wild Ones by C. Alexander London Page A

they might get some protection on their side. Strength ruled in Ankle Snap Alley, and Kit and Eeni had more brains to offer than brawn.
    Uncle Rik scurried into the back room, leaving Eeni and Kit to themselves again.
    â€œSo . . .
that
was exciting,” said Eeni.
    â€œThat was terrifying,” said Kit.
    â€œThat’s life here in Ankle Snap.” Eeni shrugged. “It’s a wild place. You walk out the door, and you never know what’ll happen next.”
    â€œI don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”
    â€œAn animal can get used to anything,” Eeni told him.“We’re no house pets here. We adapt to the world; we don’t expect the world to adapt to us.”
    â€œI never thought about it like that before,” said Kit.
    â€œSee? Already thinking in new ways.” Eeni smirked. “This here alley is an education and a half!”
    â€œI guess . . . but, don’t you go to school too?”
    Eeni shrugged. “My school’s the mud and mystery of life beneath the Slivered Sky.”
    â€œYou mean, you don’t go to, like, regular—?”
    Eeni cut him off with a wave of her paw. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.
    â€œSorry.” Kit blushed.
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” Eeni told him. “By the way . . . I’m real sorry about your parents.”
    â€œYeah.” Kit wiped his eye with his paw. “Like you said . . . we adapt. It’s what wild animals do.”
    Eeni nodded. “You’re a quick learner, Kit.”
    â€œI sort of have to be now that I’m an orphan,” he told her. “But I made my mother a promise, and if I can figure out what’s so important about this clue, then I’ll be able to—”
    Just then, a loud clatter interrupted him, followed by crashing noise. He’d barely cocked his ears in the direction of the kitchen, when Uncle Rik came flying backward through the door and smashed into three heaping plates of piping-hot trash casserole. An instantlater, Otis came flying through the door and smashed into the pastry case, crushing all the liver cakes and marrow cookies into crumbs.
    The customers gasped and cried out. Possum Ansel froze in place once more. Uncle Rik groaned on the ground, and Otis stood up from the wrecked case and flexed his fists. He charged back into the kitchen.
    Faster than a hummingbird’s wink, the badger came flying back out of the kitchen again just as Uncle Rik stood up again, and the big fellow landed flat on top of the dazed raccoon, smashing them both back down into the ruined pastry case. This time badger and raccoon were knocked out cold.
    And then Kit heard the tinkling of a tiny bell.
    Ding-ding-ding.
    His blood froze in his veins. A large orange cat slipped into the dining room and licked the baking sugar from his front paw.
    Sixclaw.
    The cat glanced around the room and grinned. “Business is closed for the night,” the cat said. “Everyone out.”
    The customers popped to their paws, feet, and claws and bolted through the front door. The possum played possum still; the badger and Uncle Rik lay side by side on the ground, and the cat fixed his yellow gaze on Kit and Eeni.
    â€œYou, Kit, I’d kindly ask to stick around,” the cat meowed, although his meow was about as cute and cuddly as a sack of rusted razor blades.
    â€œYou . . . you . . . ,” Kit stammered.
    â€œOh, Kit.” The cat chuckled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. Or, should I say,
eat
you again. This is a restaurant after all, and I’d love some Kit casserole.”

Chapter Fourteen
    THE PARISH SCRIBE
    SIXCLAW smoothed his ears with his paw, flashing all six of his claws at the same time. Eeni glanced to the restaurant door, then back to the cat again, which seemed to amuse him.
    â€œTry to run and I’ll be burping up your bones