Chapter 2: Raccoon Run
RUN!
Kit scrambled on all four paws, charging across the field for the tree line. The big sky above was bright blue and the sun blazed yellow with the glare of day. He had been woken from a deep sleep in his burrow, and now a pack of hunting dogs howled and snarled on his heels.
They had his scent, five of them, all bred to kill. They could outrun a fox or a rabbit, and they could certainly outrun a woodland raccoon like Kit. Hed never been chased before; he didnt know what to do.
His instincts screamed at him to move and to move fast, while his mind raced to catch up with his body.
In his head, his mothers shout echoed. Kit! Wake up! Theyre here for us! Run!”
His lungs burned, his legs ached, but he ran as fast as he could. Why were they chasing him? And what had they done to his parents?
Keeping running, lad,” the leader of the pack of dogs called out. Itll be that much more fun when we tear you to pieces.”
The other dogs howled and jeered. He could smell their hot breath. His senses prickled and he dared a glance over his shoulder.
They were nearly on him!
The massive bloodhounds wore thick leather collars. Their brown ears fluttered like banners, their fangs glistened with slobber. The leader of the pack snapped and nearly caught Kits tail.
He couldnt outrun them.
But he was a raccoon, was he not? Cleverest of the animals, his father always said, a son of Azban, the First Raccoon, who couldve tricked the light from the moon if hed wanted to. Kit couldnt outrun these brutes, but he could outthink them.
What did he know about dogs? What could he do that they couldnt?
An idea slapped him like a branch across the face: He could climb.
He turned sharply, leaping sideways just as the pack leader dove to bite again. The dogs jaws clamped around nothing but grass, and the other dogs tumbled into him from behind, rolling on top of one another in a snarly heap. Kit bolted hard for the nearest tree at the edge of the meadow.
The dogs were on their feet again. Hed cut the distance to the tree in half, but the pack was cutting the distance between them faster. He didnt know if he would make it. The thought of dogs teeth breaking his fur and gnawing at his bones added speed to his stride. When he reached the tree, he jumped for the trunk and caught on with his claws. He scampered up, catching his breath in the crook of the first branch he grabbed.
The dogs circled the base of the tree, barking mad.
You get down here and face your doom,” the pack leader demanded.
Go away,” Kit shouted down at them. Leave me alone!”
The dogs laughed uproariously at that. One of them laughed so hard he had to lie down and roll on his back, his snout rubbing into the dirt.
Look, little guy, its nothing personal,” the pack leader explained. Weve been hired to do a job of killing you, so thats what weve got to do. You come on down and get killed and thatll be that. I promise, well do it quick. It wont hurt . . . much. We wont even eat your head.”
Kit scooted higher up into the tree, so high that the dogs below looked small as mice. He curled into a ball in the safe crook of a branch and shuddered. The dogs paced, waiting for him to tire. But Kit could stay up in the tree for days. The dogs would go eventually. They had collars on; they were Peoples dogs. They couldnt wait for him forever, could they? Would they?
And, still, the question rattled his mind, Why?
It had been a beautiful night, the night before. Stars had bloomed across the sky as thick as thorn bushes and a moon so round and bright it put the daytime sun to shame.
Kits family burrow was a cozy place, with a nice hole under their big tree to enter through, a great room where his mother and father worked on their archeological discoveries together, while Kit would play outside.
That night, Kit had played in the moonlight with some of the rabbits from the tree next door, showing them how to tie and untie knots in blades of grass. The rabbits were hopeless at it, but they enjoyed watching Kits nimble fingers.
His mother made an apple grub cake for dinner, while his father studied a strange piece of stone hed brought back from one of his foraging trips in the city beneath the Slivered Sky.
Kit, being a Big Sky raccoon, was not allowed to accompany his parents on these trips to the city where the Peoples tall buildings cut the sky into slivers, but he loved hearing tales of the goings-on.
The citys a rough and unforgiving place,” his father explained to him. If it isnt People trying to trap and kill wild folk like us; its their terrible house pets hunting us down for sport. Even the other wild animals scheme and plot to take what doesnt belong to them. Its a brutish life in the city, Kit, and youre better off out here in woodlands beneath the Big Sky.”
But doesnt Uncle Rik live in the city?” Kit asked.
Your mothers brother does live there,” said Kits father. Hes more comfortable surrounded by no-good garbage-scrounging liars than your mother and I are.”
Is that why Ive never met Uncle Rik?” Kit wondered.
Hes got important work to do in the city,” Kits mother told him. And weve got important work here. Im sure youll meet him one day.”
His father returned to studying the piece of stone in his paws. It was perfectly flat on one side, with jagged edges, like itd been broken off from something bigger. On it there was a paw print, which Kits parents told him was how the First Animals wrote.
Did you find that in the city?” Kit asked.
Not quite.” His father sighed. I bought it off a traveling deer who bought it off a nervous gopher, who says he bought it off a hedgehog in a shop beneath the Slivered Sky. I recognized the footprint right away. Azban, the First Raccoon.”
Whats it say?” Kit asked.
Ive no idea,” said his father. Your mothers the one who reads the old language.”
Hey, Ma,” Kit called. Whats this old stone say?”
I dont know, my son,” she told him. Ive been too busy making your dinner to study it properly yet. Perhaps if you learned to cook, instead of playing with knots, then Id have more time to do my work . . .”
Dont let the boy cook!” his father cried out. Well be eating acorn candy and honeycomb pie for every meal.”
The whole family laughed. Kit really loved acorn candy and honeycomb pie.
After dinner, his parents tucked him into his burrow, smoothing the soft moss and letting him nuzzle in their fur.
His mother told him a story, a story of Azban, the First Raccoon, who had tricked Brutus, Duke of Dogs, in a game of chance and won the moonlight from him. From that time on, the Peoples house pets, the Flealess, were banished to the bright and terrible day. Only the Wild Ones were left free to romp and howl in the cool moonlight as they pleased.
Thats why the Flealess wont leave our kind in peace,” his mother told him. They want the moonlight back. They think we cheated it from them.”
But we didnt, did we, Ma?” Kit asked. Its just a story, right?”
You cant steal what is freely given,” his mother told him. Azban was too clever to cheat. I imagine the truth is he won a game fair and square, and the Flealess are just looking to old stories for an excuse to why they hate our kind . . . but dont you worry about that.” She patted his head. Out here in the Big Sky there are no Flealess to fret over. Its a nice place to live, isnt it?”
It is,” Kit agreed and drifted off to sleep just as the sun came up, glad for Azban and the blessed moonlight . . . and then:
HOWL! CRASH! SHRIEK!
The dogs busted into the raccoon warren. His father was already fighting them in the other room as Kits mother jostled him awake. She shoved his arms into his jacket, flopped a hat onto his head, and stuffed a pouch of nuts and seedsemergency moneyinto his pocket. She told him to run.
She didnt say why or who from or where to.
And now, here he was, confused and frightened, alone up a tree, a raccoon on the run.