Ion Fire Protection

Chapter 8

"Ah, here you are at last," said the rat idly. "By your reek we expected you ages ago. Look,

Fangor, he has brought the pup."

A long nose poked over the first rat's shoulder. It had a friend.

"What a tidbit she is," said Fangor in a smooth, rich voice. "I will allow you the entire boy if I may have the sweetness of the pup to myself, Shed."

"It is tempting, but he is more bone than meat, and she is such a morsel," said Shed. "I find myself quite torn by your offer. Stand you, boy, and let us better tell your stuffing."

The cockroaches had been freaky, the bats intimidating, but these rats were purely terrifying. Sitting back on their haunches, they were a good six feet tall, and their legs, arms, whatever you called them, bulged with muscle under their gray fur. But the worst part of all was their teeth, six-inch incisors that protruded out of their whiskered mouths.

No, the worst part was that they were clearly planning to eat Gregor and Boots. Some people thought rats didn't eat people, but Gregor knew better. Even the regular-sized rats back home would attack a person if they were helpless. Rats preyed on babies, old people, the weak, the defenseless. There were stories ... the homeless man in the alley ... a little boy who'd lost two fingers ... they were too horrible to think about.

Gregor slowly got to his feet, retrieving the torch, but keeping it down at his side. He pressed Boots back against the cavern wall.

Fangor's nose quivered. "This one had fish for supper. Mushrooms, grain, and just a bit of leaf. Now that's flavorful, you must admit, Shed."

"But the pup has gorged on stewed cow and cream," returned Shed. "Not to mention, she is clearly milk-fed herself."

Now Gregor knew what all the fuss about bathing had been. If the rats could detect the handful of greens he'd eaten hours earlier, they must have an unbelievable sense of smell.

The Underlanders hadn't been rude when they'd wanted him to bathe. They had been trying to keep him alive!

He went from attempting to evade them to wishing desperately that they'd find him. He had to hold the rats off. It would give him time. The expression startled him. Vikus had said killing him would give the roaches no time. By "time," did the Underlanders simply mean more life?

He brushed off his clothes and tried to adopt the rats' casual banter. "Do I have any say in this?" he asked.

To his surprise, Fangor and Shed laughed. "He speaks!" said Shed. "What a treat! Usually we get nothing but shrieks and whimpers! Tell us, Overlander, what makes you so brave?"

"Oh, I'm not brave," said Gregor. "Bet you can smell that."

The rats laughed again. "True, your sweat carries much fear, but still you have managed to address us."

"Well, I thought you might like to get to know your meal better," said Gregor.

"I like him, Shed!" howled Fangor.

"I like him, too!" choked Shed. "The humans are commonly most dreary. Say we may keep him, Fangor."

"Oh, Shed, how is that to be? It would entail much explaining, and besides, all this laughter gives me hunger," said Fangor.

"And me," said Shed. "But you must agree, to eat such amusing prey is a great pity."

"A great pity, Shed," said Fangor. "But without remedy. Shall we?"