Walker brandished the umbrella like a sword.

Light stretched around him and settled on a man crouched next to the sink.

His head whipped toward Walker and yelled “Hey!” in a high-pitched voice.

“God—” Walker’s hand clenched and hit the button on the umbrella. The umbrella sprung open and pushed through the door—its canopy barely opened after the shaft passed the doorway.

Something hard hit against something with a similar density with a thunk.

“Gah,” moaned the man.

Walker hit the lights and lowered his unsheathed umbrella. A man with goldilocks and bronzed skin, not much older than he, rubbed the back of his head. Matte black goggles with a protruding visor that emulated binoculars and green-tinted lenses fashioned his face. A drawstring bag was slung over his shoulders.

“What’re you doing in my bathroom?” Walker’s brows scrunched up as he looked at the man. While sitting on his buttocks, he didn’t look very threatening.

“What’re you doing with my umbrella?” he retorted, his voice was substantially deeper this time. Walker rotated the umbrella in his hand and examined it. A white tag on the base written by hand read: If lost, call 541-420-1269.

“I thought it was complimen—who writes a return note on an umbrella?” Walker asked incredulously.

The guy stood up by grabbing the sink for support, “I do, that’s my favorite umbrella and I’d like it back please.”

He stuck out his arm.

While Walker stood a couple of inches over six feet, this guy stood a few more over him. Walker stepped back or at least attempted to. The canvas of the umbrella caught on the frame of the door.

He held on to the umbrella anyway.

“Dude, what are you doing?” he asked again.

The guy slowly pushed the goggles up and off his head before pointing to his left.

“Here for the cat.”

He poked his head through the doorway and peered around the corner. Sure enough, a surprisingly large, matted black cat sat in the bathtub licking itself. Broad ears flopped on its face. A dog crate sat next to the guy. Walker’s shoulders relaxed and he pressed the button to re-sheathe the umbrella.

Holding up a guy with an umbrella in a bathroom began to seem a little silly.

“How’d you end up in the bathroom? The doors are locked and we’re on the third floor,” he asked whilst handing the umbrella back to the man.

The man turned his eyes over to where the main street would have been, “Well…” he paused. “I saw the cat climb onto the balcony, and into the room. Then I counted the floors and windows to find which room it would be in the building, then snuck in.”

“And the door?”

He grinned at Walker, “Easy, the locking mechanism on the door is actually pretty weak, if you pull it, and it’ll feel locked. But give it a good push and it’ll open normally.”

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He thrust his arm out again. “Name’s Chet Thundercock.”

Walker blinked.

“Actually?” he replied before shaking his hand.

Chet puffed up his chest and beat on it with his fist, “Yup, family name.”

“Uh huh,” he paused before continuing, “Adam Walker. Call me Walker, though. Everyone and their mom’s called Adam.”

Chet shot him a side look. “Haven’t heard somebody called Walker before, cool name though.”

Walker cocked his head, “Says the guy whose name can be used as both a verb and a noun.”

Chet shrugged.

A mew broke the two out of their conversation. Chet shrugged off the drawstring bag, grabbed the goggles, and stuffed them into a box in his bag. He pulled out some dark leather gloves and turned to Walker.

“If you help me out with this cat, I’ll give you some of what I get for the job.”

The cat mewed again and shifted weight. As it shifted weight, clicking, like the sound of nails tapping on wood, could be heard from the tub.

“Job? I thought this was your cat?” Walker said baffled.

This time it was Chet’s turn to look puzzled.

“Nah bro, this isn’t my cat.”

Walker waved at the cat. “Then who’s fucking cat is this!?”

Chet furrowed his brows. “Probably some rich guy’s daughter or something, if I get this guy to the bazaar in one piece, I get close to a thousand in cash after PIP takes their cut.”

The clicking intensified as the cat unfurled itself from its resting position.

“You’re getting a thousand for catching a cat?”

Chet smiled sheepishly. “They mentioned that it was dangerous and to proceed with caution… so that probably upped the reward.” He stared warily at the moving cat, before quickly shuffling closer to Walker.

“You in or not?”

He stared at Chet’s eager expression for a few seconds. His eyes shifted from the cat to Chet, then back to the Cat.

“Yeah, I’m in.” He stepped in the bathroom, fully clearing the doorway.

Chet separated two of the four gloves from his hands and shoved them into Walker’s chest.

“Put these on.”

Chet slapped the gloves after Walker took them “Good quality.”

Walker slid them on. The glove molded to his hand and the leather felt good against his fingers. The inner palm and fingers of the glove had different materials that he guessed made gripping things easier.

He closed the door behind them, shutting them in with the cat, and surveyed the bathroom. The bathroom in itself wasn’t very big. Opposite to the door sat the sink in a corner and on the wall to his left were a few shelves holding towels. The bathroom was rectangular, and they were on one end and the tub was a few feet away on the other end. The toilet sat between them and the bathtub.

“What’s the plan,” Walker whispered to Chet.

Chet crouched and unlatched the animal crate by his feet.

“I say we grab the cat and put it in this crate.”

Walker stared at Chet.

“I like it.”

More clicking, this time louder.

They turned their heads to the end of the room. Bulbous yellow eyes in a mass of black stared at Walker while a tufted tail wagged lazily behind it.

“It doesn’t look too scary,” Walker commented.

“Do you want to hold the crate, or do you want to grab the cat?” Chet questioned.

A few seconds went by.

Walker held out his hand as if to say watch and learn, “I’ll try the cat first.”

Walker shuffled by Chet. Since the bathroom was rather narrow their bodies rubbed against one another. Walker’s eyes were on the cat, and its eyes were on him. The crate scraped against the tile as Chet picked it up behind him.

Walker took a step forward, hands outstretched. The cat’s back arched and it leaned away from him.

“You’re scaring her,” Chet called out unhelpfully.

“Shut up,” he whispered back.

Walker leaned forward again, ready to take the step that would put him past the toilet and almost in front of the tub.

“Try talking to it.”

Walker clicked his tongue at him and took another step and was now able to peer into the tub fully.

“Holy shit,” Walker whispered.

“What?” Chet’s voice was closer.

The cat’s lower body dwarfed its upper body. It had paws the size of its head with sinewy muscles tensed in its legs and shoulders. Claws about two inches in length scratched and tapped against the tub.

“What’s happening?” Chet said urgently.

“This is a massive god-damn cat, man…”

The cat scooted further into the corner of the tub. Its tail pointed straight in the air and quivered.

“Try grabbing the nape of its neck, it’s supposed to paralyze them,” quipped Chet.

Walker’s knees now pushed against the tub. His heart raced as he visualized his movements. He counted to three, took a deep breath, and lunged forward.