But before Wendell could throw the canister they heard a scuffle in the cave, heard a woman scream and Fulman swearing. Another scream, and Fulman loomed in the entrance, pushing Lucinda before him.
"See what I have, Harper. Go on, throw your little bomb."
The officers drew back. Fulman dragged Lucinda out of the cave, staying behind the thin old woman, moving down the hill using her as a shield. Lucinda was limp and obedient.
"She was in the cave all along," Dulcie whispered. "She was there when we went in. Why did she let him see her?"
Fulman had backed a third of the way down toward the highway, dragging Lucinda, when the pups raced up at them, barking, half in play, half with confused anger. Fulman spun, kicking at them, the old lady stumbling. Selig and Hestig leaped and snapped at him. He kicked them again, and forced Lucinda across the road to the edge of the cliff, where it sheared away to the breakers. Lucinda made no effort to fight him; caught between the sea crashing below and the gun he held against her, she was very still.
Clutching her arm, he faced the ring of officers that had followed them. "Get the hell away, Harper. Get your men away-the whole mess of you. Or you'll be picking her out of the ocean."
The officers drew back But at the rage in Fulman's voice, the pups went wild. They charged him, Hestig low and snarling, grabbing his ankle as Selig leaped at his chest, hitting him hard; at the same instant Lucinda came alive. Clutched against Fulman, she twisted violently, biting his arm. He hit her in the face. She kneed him where it had to hurt, and when Fulman doubled over, she clawed his face and jerked free. Maybe all the anger she had stored, unspent for so many years, went into that desperate bid for freedom. Certainly the violence enraged the pups. They tore at Fulman. Fighting the dogs and fighting Lucinda, Fulman lost his balance. He fell, dragging Lucinda. They were over the cliff, the pups falling with them clawing at Fulman-humans and pups falling…
Officers surged to the edge, and began to ease themselves down. Fulman was sprawled on a ledge some ten feet below, lying across Lucinda, tangled with the pups. Lucinda had his gun. As Fulman lunged for it, she twisted away. He hit Lucinda hard, snatched the gun, took aim at the officers crowding down the cliff. "I told-"
Joe Grey leaped.
He didn't think about getting shot or about falling a hundred feet into the sea or about how Max Harper would view his unnatural response or about Dulcie following him, he was just claw-raking, snarling mad: he didn't like Fulman harming Lucinda; he didn't like Fulman's gun pointed up at all of them. Only as he clung to Fulman's face, digging in, did he realize that Dulcie was beside him, raking Fulman's throat.
Their weight and the shock of their attack sent Fulman sprawling on the crumbling edge. They felt Lucinda struggle free, saw her grab a rock. Crouching, she swung, her face filled with rage. She hit Fulman in the stomach, pounding him, pounding.
Only then did Joe Grey face the fact that he and Dulcie might have been blown to shreds by one shot from Fulman, exploded into little bits of cat meat. He watched Officer Wendell swing down onto the ledge, his weapon drawn, covering Fulman-the sight of Wendell's automatic was mighty welcome.
Fulman drew back against the cliff. Lucinda huddled at the edge, staring down at the heaving sea.
As Wendell cuffed Fulman, the cats scrambled up the cliff, past him. From above, they watched Wendell put a leg chain on Fulman, then tie a rope around Lucinda, making a harness, preparing for the officers above to hoist her to the road.
Clyde and two officers lifted her to safety. Her face was very white, her pale hair clinging in damp curls. She said no word. She kept her eyes closed until she was again on solid ground.
The next moments, as the paramedics took over, examining Lucinda and Fulman, Joe and Dulcie fled into the tall, concealing grass.
Pity, Joe thought, that Fulman didn't crash on the rocks and die. Pity Lucinda didn't shoot him, be deserved shooting;she would have saved the state of California a good deal of trouble, to say nothing of the money they'd spend prosecuting this scum.
"What is it with humans?" he asked Dulcie, watching Clyde clip leashes on the chastened pups-chastened not from any scolding Clyde had given them. How could he scold them for their wild behavior, when they had helped to capture Fulman? But chastened from the fall; the two dogs were very quiet, the whites around their eyes showing. It was an amazement to Joe that no one, in that ten-foot slide and fall down the cliff, had any broken bones.
What Max Harper would have to say about his and Dulcie's part in Fulman's capture did not bear considering. Joe guessed he'd better come up with a good story-coach Clyde on it, and fill Wilma in. Set up a scenario about how these two cats got along so well with the pups, that when the pups got excited, the silly cats got excited, too, went kind of crazy-feline hysteria.
Sitting hidden in the grass, out of the way of the police, Joe and Dulcie watched the first rescue unit pull away, transporting Sam Fulman to the hospital. Two police guards rode with him.
"Look at the damage Fulman's done," Joe said. "Shot Harper in the arm, and Lucinda's lucky she isn't dead. Three men are dead at Fulman's hands-and for what? To line his greedy pockets. But the paramedics took care of him just like he was worth saving."
"Civilized," Dulcie said. "The result of thousands of years of civilization."
"I don't call that civilized, I call it silly. And if humans are so civilized, how come all the crime-the rise in murder statistics? Rape statistics, robbery, you name it." He looked at Dulcie intently. "If you think there's been progress, then how come the jails are so full?"
But Dulcie only shrugged; she was too tired to express an opinion on matters as complicated and diverse as human ambiguities.
Sitting close together, the cats watched Wilma hurry to retrieve Lucinda's car, preparing to follow the second ambulance, which was taking Lucinda to Emergency. Suddenly Dulcie crouched to race down the hill, to go with her.
But she stopped, turned to look at Joe. "Come on- don't you want to be with Lucinda?"
Joe licked her ear. "You go. I want to be sure Harper finds the bag-see you in Jolly's alley." And he was away after Harper, racing up through the grass as Harper climbed toward Hellhag Cave. Joe paused only once to look back, as Wilma pulled away behind the rescue unit; when he and Dulcie had faced danger together, he never liked to be parted from her.
But what could happen? He watched Clyde's yellow roadster spin a U-turn, following Wilma. The pups rode as sedately, now, as a pair of middle-aged sightseers; he wondered how long that subdued frame of mind would last. Only Harper's squad car remained, beside the highway, where one of the officers had put it after retrieving it from the trailer park. It looked lonely there, strangely vulnerable. Quickly, Joe followed Harper on up the hill.
As the captain stepped into the darkness of Hellhag Cave, Joe glimpsed a movement among the rocks.
Maybe it was only a shadow cast by the light from Harper's swinging torch, as the captain disappeared inside. Joe didn't wait to see. Swallowing back his fear of the place, he followed Harper.
24
JOE WATCHED the light of Max Harper's torch move quickly into Hellhag Cave, its bright arc slicing through the darkness. Joe took a step in, and another. Swallowing his distaste, he followed Harper, slipping along close to the wall, his whiskers brushing cold stone.
Harper moved slowly, studying each crevice until, ahead, a flash shone out between the stones as icy white as snow gleaming in the torchlight.