The black cat pawed at his arms with lightning response.

The claws of its left paw grabbed onto the glove and pierced the material while the right paw bounced off his right hand. Walker cursed and grabbed the nape of the cat.

However, there wasn’t one, not in the traditional cat sense. No loose skin donned the cat’s neck, only taut skin stretched against a surprisingly muscular neck.

Walker scrambled to keep the struggling cat contained as his right hand pushed the cat further into the corner. However, the cat pounced out of his grip and lunged toward his face. Walker jerked away from the fluffy bullet just before the cat flew by. The cat hit the wall and fell to the ground with barely a sound while Walker promptly fell into the tub.

Chet yelled but he couldn’t make out his words. Walker scrambled out of the tub and was greeted with the scene of Chet Thundercock trying to push the crate around the cat similar to someone putting a cup around a tarantula.

Blood pounded in his head as Walker stood opposite to Chet and re-cornered the cat. The cat’s head bobbed from Chet to Walker as it pushed itself against the back wall. It stood on its hind legs and pawed when either of them made a move.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” huffed Walker.

“Want the crate?” Chet shook the animal crate.

Walker shook his head as he took deep breaths. His heart raced as he thought of different areas of attack.

“It kinda grabbed my arm when I went for it before.” Walker took a deep breath while Chet nodded in rapt attention. “Let it grab me and I’ll push it in the crate while it holds on to me.”

Chet agreed with another nod and held the crate near his legs, blocking the way of escape through his legs.

The cat hissed.

Walker gave himself a few seconds of hesitation before thrusting his arm straight at the cat’s body.

As expected, the cat immediately latched onto the glove and bit it.

Walker grabbed the toilet behind him and grunted as he lifted the cat several inches into the air. His muscles stretched as Chet pushed the crate opening around the animal’s head and upper torso. The cat’s grip tightened and broke through the leather of the glove and the skin of his right hand.

Walker let go of the toilet, gritted his teeth, and fully plunged his arm into the crate. He could feel the claws tear and gnash at his hand.

“Got the legs!” shouted Chet.

The cat’s massive hindlegs were inches away from Walker’s shoulder as they swiped and scratched against the crate border.

Chet lifted the crate up to his waist from the handle with one arm and grabbed the hind legs of the cat with the other. The door of the crate bounced off Chet’s arm as he stuffed one of the hind legs in.

“Let go,” commanded Thundercock, as he tilted the opening toward the ceiling.

Walker howled as he pulled away from the ever-tight cat grip. He was able to slip out of the glove and pulled his bare hand out while Chet slammed the door shut on the animal. Chet fully tilted the crate, so it faced the ceiling before he pushed the locking mechanism in.

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“God damn,” Walker swore, as he whipped his hand around.

Chet dropped the rumbling crate onto the ground and leaned against the sink with a sigh.

“Didn’t think that would work as well as it did,” exclaimed Chet.

Walker stared at him incredulously.

He raised his arm, his hand had three deep puncture wounds accompanied by an inch of tear that formed bloody teardrop cuts on his hand. Other, smaller cuts crisscrossed his hand.

“That was an absurd situation.”

Chet shrugged.

“I mean with the equipment we used, ya know…” Chet waved at the crate, “not bad.”

Walker noticed that drops of blood also littered Chet’s left hand, so he held his tongue. He sat on the toilet and took a few deep breaths as he tried to slow his pounding heart.

Chet looked around, “We should probably…” He opened the cabinet that sat under the shelf near the door.

“Aha!”

Chet pulled out a blue first aid kit from the cabinet.

“Come here.”

Walker stood up and stepped over the crate to where Chet was standing. Chet rummaged through the kit while murmuring to himself. He pulled out a few small packets, gauze, a spray bottle, a spool of thread, and small scissors.

Chet placed those on the sink before washing his hands. He instructed Walker to do the same.

It stung but Walker did so without complaint and managed to get most of the blood off his hand and down the drain.

“Disinfectant.” Chet raised the spray bottle before proceeding to spray it onto his and Walker’s wounds. Walker bit his tongue.

Chet’s hand was mostly red and puffy from surface-level scratches, but Walker’s three puncture wounds were a bit deeper than his.

“You ready?” Chet asked, whilst pulling out the spool and scissors.

“Stitches?”

“Yup.”

He placed his hand over the sink and let Chet do his job.

“Alright.”

While he worked Chet talked. “These are bio-dissolvable, probably take a week or two and they’ll dissolve as they heal.”

Walker was impressed. “How do you know how to do this?”

Chet didn’t say anything for a moment as he plunged the first stitch into his hand.

“Took a first-aid class for a lifeguard job during high school.”

Walker turned his gaze from his hand to Chet, “You were a lifeguard?”

Chet chuckled, “Nah, can’t swim, a girl I liked took the class.”

He nodded appreciatively. After Chet was finished Walker took over Chet and grabbed the gauze and tape. Walker proceeded to wrap his hand and wrist with gauze and tape.

“We could’ve used some better equipment.”

Chet looked at him “Whaddya mean?”

Walker glanced at the rattling crate bounced from the cat inside moving about.

“An animal control pole or, like—a tranq dart would’ve been super useful. Just walk up to it and bam—” Walker waved his hands in the air “it’s asleep.”

Chet finished bandaging himself and slung his drawstring backpack over his shoulders. Walker followed suit, grabbed the crate, and stepped out into the hotel room with him. Chet grabbed a chair from the corner that Walker didn’t notice the first time walking into the room, and plopped into it.

“I mean, I spent most of my money on the gloves and the crate.”

Walker dropped the crate next to the bed, opened his backpack, pulled out a banana, and sat next to the crate.

“And the night-vision goggles,” Walker added.

Chet scratched his head, “Uh, what goggles?”

He squinted at Chet.

“You were in the dark with goggles on, I put two and two together.”

Silence.

“I drink a lotta milk.”

Walker peeled his banana, “That’s carrots, and I’m pretty sure that was British WWII propaganda.”

Chet leaned forward, “You’re right, those were night-vision goggles. Thing is, they’re military-grade so…” He leaned his head left and right as if he was weighing the options something in his mind. “Not very legal.”

“Oh, and milk was the lie you went with?” Walker replied. Chet rummaged through his backpack instead of replying. Walker peeled his banana in the classic four-peel strategy and took a bite.

“Wait, when I walked into the hotel room the lights were on but when I walked into the bathroom, they were off.” Walker chewed thoughtfully. “But you still had the goggles on. Why didn’t you just turn on the light as you did in the hotel room?”

“Hey.” Chet looked at Walker. “They were expensive, I’m gonna use ‘em.”

Walker simply nodded and turned to look at the now silent animal crate.

Two yellow eyes peeped from inside the crate and peered at him. He looked at the cat and then at the banana in his hand. With a soft smile, he broke off a chunk and leaned over to the cage. The cat stepped back before he threw it into the cage.

“Want to grab the cat and head over to the Pavilion?” Chet asked.

“The Pavilion?”

Chet looked at him weirdly. “Man, I thought I was new. They’ll probably fill you in better than I can.”

Walker agreed grabbed the rest of the banana and threw it into the cage. The cat scooted over to bite into the yellow fruit.

Chet put his drawstring back on, grabbed the crate, and walked out.

Walker followed suit.