Chapter Thirty One
When they got to the end of the tunnel, Torus saw Chello waiting, clutching his weapon and staring up the passage to the surface. When he saw that the rest were there, Chello said, “Okay, let’s go!” and moved to head up the passage.
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Torus. “We have to plan it out!”
Quickly, he whispered instructions to each member of the group. They would all sneak out and gather in the shadow behind the wall. Then he, Chello, Nevi, and Arkon would start climbing up the tree, keeping to the far side of the trunk until they were hidden in the branches. The others would split up and slip out to the area around the dumpster with their weapons. When the flyers were in place, they would signal the others who would all jump up at once and try to scare the pigeons on the dumpster. At the same time, the flyers would launch from the tree and try to confuse the guard pigeons when they flew down to the surface.
Torus turned to Flinka. “You just hang onto our weapons and stay where you feel safe, okay? Then, when we land, you run over and give them to us.”
“I’m keeping Sticker, though,” said Chello.
“Fine, whatever,” said Torus. “For me and Arkon, though, hang on to these,” he said to Flinka, handing her his knife and Arkon’s toothbrush.
“Okay,” said Flinka, obviously trying to be brave. “What about Nevi?”
“I don’t have a weapon,” said Nevi.
“Yeah,” said Chello. “She’s good enough at wrestling she doesn’t need one. Can we go already?”
“Okay,” said Torus. “I think we’re ready.”
“Finally!” said Chello, leading the way up the short tunnel to the surface.
Once they were out of the ground and in the shadow of the wall, they split into two groups. Juke, Pryus, Davin and Vinda, and Moki crept around the wall toward the dumpster, and Torus led the way up the tree, followed by Chello, Nevi and Arkon. It was tricky climbing with the flyer strapped to his back, and he picked his way carefully up the trunk and through the branches to avoid being seen. There were no leaves on the tree, although the buds were beginning to swell. It was just sunset, and the sky was brighter than he had wanted it to be during the raid. He hoped that their cloaks hid their shapes from the pigeons fluttering around the dumpster and standing guard at the top of the wall.
“Hey,” Chello whispered from behind him. “How many are there, do you think?”
“I don’t know,” said Torus, looking down. “A lot?”
“Juke would know,” said Nevi.
“Well, I’ll be sure to ask him when we’re back down there,” said Chello.
“Shh,” said Torus. “Be quiet.”
They began creeping out onto the large limb that stretched high over the top of the dumpster. Looking down again, Torus saw the others on the ground carefully climbing up the side of it. As he watched, Juke, who was in the lead, reached the top and slipped over the edge down onto the big pile of trash. The dumpster was very full, and in the middle the garbage was heaped up high above the rim.
“Look at all that garbage!” whispered Arkon. “There’s enough there to feed the clan for a month, I’ll bet!”
They continued creeping along until they were directly over the center of the pile. At the same time, the rats on the ground all followed Juke into the dumpster, and then spread out around the pile. Torus could see them slinking carefully under their cloaks. The looked almost like pieces of the trash itself, moving in a breeze.
Still, he was amazed that the pigeons seemed oblivious to them. He could hear them chattering and screeching at each other in their strange language, but he couldn’t catch any words but “Culuu” over and over again. They fluttered up and down, landing on the pile seemingly at random, and pecking at various bits of garbage. When one of them found something to eat, the others nearby would converge on it and they would struggle over it until one of them finally pulled it away from the others and ate it. Occasionally, one of them would fly away with whatever it had captured and clatter off across the street toward the building.
The four rats in the tree lined up side by side on the branch and looked down at the dumpster. Torus tried again to count the birds.
“How many are there?” he asked. “They’re moving around so much I can’t keep track.”
“I don’t know,” said Chello, “maybe a dozen on the pile? Where’s Juke when you need him?”
“And five or six standing guard on the wall,” said Arkon.
Nevi pointed off to the side and said, “I see a couple down there on the grass.”
“Alas!” said Chello.
“What?” said Arkon.
“That’s something like three to one against the rats,” said Torus. “I hope it’s enough.”
“It’ll be fine,” said Nevi. “Remember, all we have to do is frighten enough of them into leaving that we make the whole flock leave.”
“Yeah, like Nile said,” said Chello. “They all think in a group, so if one pigbird is stupid, then all together they’re even stupider.”
“I hope so,” said Arkon nervously.
“It’ll be fine,” said Nevi.
“Yeah, you’ll be okay,” said Chello. “If nothing else, just fall as slowly as you can.”
Torus continued watching the rats below. They moved so slowly and carefully that he occasionally lost track of one of them. Vinda, particularly, in her mottled gray and black cloak, was hard to keep track of. Finally, they had spread themselves all around the pile of trash and were waiting silently, each gazing up at the tree with one eye.
“Now?” whispered Chello, hopefully.
“Not quite,” said Torus. “There’s too many in the air. We need more on the ground.”
They waited a moment longer and several of the birds settled down into the dumpster.
“Now?” Chello repeated, impatiently.
Torus considered briefly, and then, without giving himself a chance to change his mind, he said “Yes!”
“Finally!” said Chello, waving his red hat widely to signal the rats below.
With a shout, they leapt up and brandished their weapons, each rushing at the nearest pigeon. As Torus had hoped, the pigeons reacted immediately, recoiling in shock from the sudden movement. Within a second, every pigeon in the dumpster had flapped up into the air, leaving the rats gathered on the top of the pile. In that same second, however, the birds guarding from the wall took off and flapped toward them, even as all the others were flapping away. The other birds saw this and began circling around to come back to the dumpster. The second after that, the four rats in the tree launched out and spread the wings on their flyers, shooting straight toward the center of the flock, with Chello in the lead.
With the flock circling, the guards swooped down toward the rats in the dumpster, flapping wildly at them and screaming. The rats held their ground, however, bracing their legs and thrusting at the birds with their weapons. Juke was particularly effective, swinging his stick wide and causing pigeons to collide in the air as they swerved to avoid him.
At that moment, the four flyers swooped into the flock, causing the birds to split apart like leaves in the wind. They wheeled wildly, trying to see and understand what had flown into their midst. The guards, meanwhile, pulled up from their attack and turned around to come face to face with the flyers. Chello swerved sharply and dived with a shriek directly at the biggest of them, slashing with his spear. The bird screamed at him, but staggered in the air trying to avoid him and wound up flying into the wall and fluttering down to the ground.
Torus guided his flyer in a wide circle around the dumpster, keeping the birds away from the rats below. He saw Flinka emerge from a dark corner and join the others. She smiled up at him and waved the knife, which glinted in the late evening light. He glided down to the group, followed by Arkon and the Nevi. He and Arkon retrieved their weapons and turned to face the birds.
The birds
continued circling chaotically, and Chello was still aloft as well, still hollering and slashing out at any pigeon within reach. Finally, he dived down at a slow, confused looking bird and whacked it across the back with his spear. The bird let out a shriek and flew straight up in the air. Another followed almost instantaneously, followed by another and another, until the whole flock had shot up in the air. By the time Chello had landed and joined the others, the flock had risen above the top of the tree and disappeared over the street, headed back to the attic of the building.
It was all over so quickly that Torus hardly had time to think about what had happened. The rats gathered on the top of the heap in the middle of the dumpster and stared at one another for a moment.
“Just like that?” said Nevi, incredulously.
“I guess so!” said Chello, stabbing his weapon into the ground.
They broke into happy, relieved, astonished smiles, but had barely started congratulating each other when a pigeon flew up from below and circled them quickly. It was the big guard that Chello had knocked out of the sky on his first dive. It flew around them, eyeing them with its yellow eyes wide. Then it cried “The King! The King! The King!” and flew off toward the building. It was followed by three other pigeons they hadn’t noticed before that had lighted in the tree rather than flying away.
“What’re they doing?” said Arkon.
“Let’s go!” said Chello sharply, dashing down the pile and leaping up to the edge of the dumpster.
“What?” said Arkon, “Where are we going?”
“They’re going to get the King,” said Chello, turning to face them. “Where’s the King? At the gathering! I’m going to the gathering to finish this!”
He turned and was about to rush off when Torus stopped him with a shout. He turned back and looked at him impatiently.
“What now?” he demanded.
“Wait for the rest of us,” said Torus, firmly. “Whatever we’re doing, we need to all go in there together. If you rush in there all by yourself it’ll never work.”
“Well alright then, let’s go!” said Chello, starting down the side of the dumpster.
Torus looked quickly around the group.
“All together, okay?” he said. “Just like we did here. Stick together, stay firm, and we can do anything!” The others nodded, some eagerly, some reluctantly, but when Torus turned and rushed after Chello they all followed close behind.
Chello led the way along the deserted main tunnel that ran directly to the back of the building and the gathering room.
“What do we do when we get there?” panted Nevi as they raced along the tunnel.
Torus replied by shrugging as well as he could while carrying his weapon and with the flyer still strapped to his back. When they got there and entered the room, they found things in such an uproar that the crowd hardly noticed them bursting in.
The floor was packed with rats, and several pigeons were circling in the air above them, dipping down occasionally to keep the rats cowering. Nogolo and Dinnick were on the podium with the King and his two advisors, and the Chief, who appeared to be sleeping. The pigeons on the podium were clearly agitated and kept fluttering their wings as Nogolo spoke rapidly, waving his arms and gesturing at the red rat figure painted crudely on the wall behind them. The air was filled with shouts and cries and the strange calls the pigeons made as they circled. They rushed into the room and started working their way through the crowd toward the podium, when suddenly someone grabbed Torus’s arm and spun him around. It was his father.
“Torus!” he shouted. “Is this what you’ve been doing? It’s you and your friends causing all this?”
Torus tried to pull his arm away, but his father’s grip only tightened.
“Don’t you see what you’re doing to the clan? To the family? How could you drag Moki into this?” His voice shook with rage and anxiety. “Are you trying to get yourselves killed?”
Torus looked past his father and saw Chello and the others nearing the podium.
“I can’t talk right now, Dad,” he said, tearing his arm away. He dashed after his friends and called over his shoulder, “I’ll explain later, okay?”
By the time he caught up with the group, the clamor in the room had subsided to a tense silence, and the only sound was Nogolo and the pigeon King arguing. Finally, Dinnick noticed the group approaching the podium and waved Nogolo to silence and pointed to them. Nogolo turned toward them and his eyes were filled with rage and fear.
“Who did this?” he demanded, pointing at the red rat on the wall. “Who dares this?”
“We did!” Chello shouted, defiantly. He leapt up onto the podium, his red cloak swirling. Torus jumped up beside him and the leaders and pigeons stepped back to avoid their weapons. Chello gripped his spear with his hand still stained with red paint and pointed it at the birds.
“We’re the Red Raiders!” he said, “and the dumpster is ours!”
The rest of the group surrounded the podium behind them and remained watchful.
There was a stunned silence from the crowd, and Nogolo sputtered, “What do you mean?”
“We took it back,” said Torus, stepping forward to face Nogolo. “We have a right to it, don’t we? So we took it back.” He turned out to the audience. “You can go there now and forage all night if you want. The pigeons are gone!”
“Impossible!” said Nogolo. “Banished! You are all banished!”
“Treachery!” cried the King. “Rat!”
He turned toward Chello and Torus, cocking his head sideways and fluttering his mottled wings menacingly. As if they had been signaled, the pigeons circling the room dove down at them, flapping wildly. The rats in the audience nearby skittered away frantically, and even Nogolo and Dinnick cringed and hopped down off the podium.
Torus and Chello and the rest of the Raiders stayed firm, however, and raised their weapons against them, turning the podium into a bristling wall of spikes and knives. The diving birds pulled up sharply and fluttered around confused, looking to their King for guidance.
At that moment, two pigeons lighted at the broken window and cried out loudly in babbling pigeon words. Torus couldn’t tell what they said, but it electrified the pigeons in the room. The pigeons flying in the room flew out immediately. The King’s two advisors took off and followed them out, screeching as they flew. The King shook his wings a final time and turned to the rats.
“Treachery!” he screamed again, leaping suddenly at Chello. He slashed at him savagely with his claws and then flew out the window.
“What have you done!” said Nogolo furiously as he climbed back onto the podium. Chello dabbed at the gash on his face, looked at the spot of blood on his fingers and then looked at Nogolo coldly.
“We’re taking it back,” he said, so quietly only those on the podium could hear him clearly. “We took back the dumpster and we’re taking back the attic. And after that,” he said, quieter still, “we’re taking back the Clan.”
“Banished,” Nogolo whispered. He sounded almost desperate.
“Only the Chief can banish someone,” said Nevi. “You’ll have to wake him up, first.”
Before Nogolo could respond Chello turned to the crowd and shouted, “For the rats of the Acme Apartment Hotel, we are taking back the attic!” He held his spear above his head and a cheer rose from the crowd. He turned to Torus and said, quietly, “Can we do that?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” said Torus. He stepped up and waved the crowd down.
“Come help us!” he called out to them. “Grab anything you can find for a weapon. If they come flapping at you, duck your head and close your eyes until they pass. All we have to do is frighten enough of them that their flocking instinct will kick in and they will leave!”
“We have to go now,” said Chello, “while they’re still confused.”
Torus looked out at the crowd and saw a mixture o
f responses. Some rats nodded eagerly while others exchanged uncertain glances. Suddenly, he found his family near the back. His sisters’ eyes were shining and his father was staring at him with a grim, unreadable expression. Torus smiled weakly and shrugged.
“How do we get there?” said a voice from the side of the room.
“We’ll take you there,” said Chello. “Anyone who wants to help, follow us. The rest of you go out to the dumpster and protect it!”
With that he jumped off the podium, ignoring Nogolo’s objections. Torus followed right behind him, and the rest of the Raiders fell in behind them.
“Grab your flyer,” said Chello. “Just in case.”
Torus and Chello slung their flyers on their back and Torus turned to Nevi.
“Can you take the lead to get us up there?” he said. “You know the way better than anyone.”
“Sure,” she said, “but I’m done flying for today, okay?”
They rushed off out of the room, toward the series of tunnels that lead up through the building to the attic, followed by the rest of the raiders and a small crowd of other rats, some angry, some excited, some with nails or sticks they had found, others with nothing but their teeth and toenails.
Torus looked back briefly and tried to figure out how many there were, then decided however many it was it would have to be enough.
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