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farther into the trees. As Jack approached, the wind increased. The branches creaked and moaned, and their leaves whispered incessantly. Anders was about to get up, persuade the new kid that it was way too dangerous to try to make it anywhere on his own, particularly at this hour, when a car appeared at the top of the hill. Anders watched it inch up the hill and pause for a moment. Just before it took off down the hill, he saw something remarkable: two small figures on opposite sides of the car leaped into the open rear windows. They were sleek and muscular and, though it was dark and they were far away, they looked remarkably like cats.
    But before he could wonder at it, the car started moving, and it was heading directly toward Jack.

    She can’t know yet, I’m sure She can’t know
, Mr. Avery thought as he drove down the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
She’s not awake yet. Just waking. There’s a difference.
His eyes slid from side to side, checking fearfully for evidence of… he shook his head.
Best not to think about it
, he told himself.
Just get the boy out of town, and everything can go back to the way it was. She can stay asleepforever, for all I care.
He picked up speed. He might have even attempted a lighthearted chuckle if he’d had the chance.
    Instead, he screamed in pain.
    A set of long, sharp claws dug into the sides of his face while another set of claws, belonging to an identical cat, attached themselves to his thigh and started scratching his pants to shreds. Mr. Avery took one hand off the steering wheel and pulled at one cat, but the other bit and scratched even harder.
    “Get off me,” he attempted to roar, but the upper cat shoved its rump into his mouth, and his voice was muffled in the fur.
    And at this moment, a thought popped—unbidden—into his head:
And this is why I have always, always hated cats.

    Jack heard the voice first. He froze, turned, and saw a pair of headlights speeding down the hill. But something wasn’t right. The car swerved wildly from right to left to right again. The brakes squealed and the engine roared as the shiny black car fishtailed down the road. Jack stared at it. He couldn’t move.
    “Get out of the way!” a voice screamed at him from the side of the road. But he couldn’t. Jack felt his legs turning to lead. The car was closer… it was about to…
    Jack reached out his hands toward the oncoming lights. He gasped and closed his eyes.

    Anders pounced, grabbed Jack, and pulled him to the side of the road. Jack fell backward into the gully, his palms pressed hard against his eyes.
    “Stopthecarstopthecar,” Jack said over and over.
    The car made one last squeal as it took a hard turn to the right. Jack screamed at the sound. The car wobbled, whined, and tipped over on its side, leaving a shower of sparks trailing behind. Once it had stopped, Anders left Jack panicking on the ground and ran over to see whether anyone was hurt.
    Mr. Avery was inside, his body curled under his arms as a protection from attacking cats. “GET THESE CATS OFF OF ME!” he shouted.
    “Don’t worry, sir,” Anders called. “I’ll wake someone up and get help.” He ran to the nearest house, but he left the cats. Even Anders, who got on well with most animals he met, knew better than to cross
those
cats.

    Jack lay in the underbrush, his hands still pressed against his eyes, a clammy sweat slicking his skin, his breath ripping in and out in panicked heaves.
    That car nearly killed me. Why did my mom leave me in such a dangerous town?
He swallowed, sighed, and tried to get a hold of himself. He dropped his hands to his sides, blinked a few times, and looked upward at the sky.
And someone pulled me out of the way
, he thought. But he hadn’t seen who it was. Who on earth would be just walking around at that time, he wondered. Jack had no idea. The ground beneath him was surprisingly warm, and the leaves, quite damp with the early-morning dew, pressed against his