HFM: Chapter 13

Chapter 13: End Game

Bageera slammed the tom he now thought of as Macavity into the ground, his considerable weight behind the blow. Macavity was temporarily knocked out of breath. Bageera climbed off and grabbed Macavity by his chest fur, pulling him to his paws. Then he threw the tom into a nearby trash can. He hit with a solid thud, bending the can.

Bageera moved in, but Macavity had recovered quickly. He brought a forepaw up and into Bageera’s side. Macavity was quite strong; a decent match to Bageera, and the blow was solid. Bageera crumpled in pain. Macavity lunged forward and kicked the downed Bageera in the face, sending him on his back.

Macavity looked up and saw that Jazz and the others were coming his way. He knew he couldn’t take them all. That left him with one option: retreat. But in the time it took him to realize this, Bageera was already getting to his paws. Macavity made to flee, but the detective swiped out, catching Macavity’s leg. He fell forward, slamming his face into the ground.

Jazz began to move in to help, But Bageera hollered back, “Keep the others back. This is my fight.”

Bageera was on Macavity and began to punch him in the face. Macavity brought his paw up and smacked Bageera in the side of the head hard enough to make him stop for a few seconds. Macavity took that opportunity to punch Bageera in the neck. Bageera fell back and off of Macavity. Macavity got up at the same time Bageera did. They circled each other, then pounced. They clawed and bit at each other in a flurry of fur. The ground was splattered with swirls of blood.

Bageera brought his fist up and smacked Macavity in the side. The fresh wound screamed in pain and Macavity flinched, bad. Bageera brought his knee up and smacked Macavity in the face. Macavity fell back, into a pile of beer bottles. Bageera moved in, but Macavity grabbed a paw full of broken glass and threw it into Bageera’s face.

Bageera stumbled back a few steps. Macavity grabbed one of the massive bottles in both paws and swung it at Bageera’s head. The glass connected solidly and shattered. Macavity brought the jagged piece of glass in his paws around and slashed at Bageera, cutting him across the chest. Bageera backed up again, keeping clear of the bottle while trying to clear his head.

Bageera stumbled back and tripped over a broken broom handle. Macavity brought the bottle around and made to impale Bageera with it. But from behind, with a hiss of rage, Mungojerrie bowled into Macavity. The two of them went flying back into the bottles. Macavity kicked out and hit Mungojerrie in the gut. The calico flew back and Macavity got to his paws.

Mungojerrie swiped out and scratched Macavity across the shins. The Napoleon of crime jumped back and Mungojerrie got to his paws. They circled, jumping in and out, delivering swipes and bites. Then Mungojerrie jumped in and aimed a swipe for Macavity’s head. But Macavity ducked under the swipe and sent his claws up Mungojerrie’s chest.

The calico was forced back into the broken glass. His exposed pads landed hard on the fragments and began to bleed profusely. Macavity took the opportunity and grabbed him by the chest fur, throwing him to the glass-covered ground.

“You heard Bageera, ‘Jerrie,” Macavity said. Mungojerrie tried to get up without cutting himself more. “This isn’t your fight.”

“I won’t let you kill him,” Mungojerrie said, managing to get to all fours.

“Why not?” Macavity asked, kicking Mungojerrie in the side. “You already helped me kill the rest of his tribe. Why not help me finish what we started?”

“You’re a monster!” Mungojerrie snapped, rolling away from the glass.

“Says the tom who eradicated nearly an entire tribe without a second thought,” Macavity sneered. “Remember. I only gave the suggestions. You were the one who actually did it.”

Macavity kicked the calico onto his back and then grabbed him around the throat. Mungojerrie clawed furiously at the Napoleon of Crime’s paws, trying to dislodge them before he suffocated.

“You won’t win this,” Macavity said through clenched teeth. “I’ve always been stronger than you.” Mungojerrie tried to claw harder, but he felt his strength wanning. “Even in my gang, you were always the weakest of my cats.”

Mungojerrie’s paws began to shake as his vision began to darken around the edges.

“And now that you’ve been on your own for so long, what little strength you ever had has dwindled to nothing.” Macavity gave a mirthless laugh as Mungojerrie’s throat was stained red from blood. “You cannot defeat me.”

Then Mungojerrie did something odd. He grinned ever so slightly. “I know,” he choked out. “But I kept you busy.”

Macavity frowned for a second before a sharp pain in his side made him release Mungojerrie’s throat. Macavity spun around and was smacked in the face by the broom handle Bageera had in his paws. He had recovered from the blow to his head, and he had cauterized the wound in his chest.

And he was pissed.

He swung the broom handle again and caught Macavity beneath the chin. Macavity tried to catch himself, but he was too dazed. He fell back and landed hard, his head cracking against the ground.

Bageera wanted to finish the job right there, but then he remembered Mungojerrie. The crook had almost died saving him. He spun around and found Mungojerrie, lying still on the ground. He looked back at Macavity and satisfied himself that the tom would be out for a while. Then he dropped the broom handle, went over and knelt beside Mungojerrie. The others came up next to him.

“How is he?” Munkustrap asked.

“He was strangled pretty hard,” Jazz said, examining his neck. “Plus all these claw marks won’t help. It looks bad.”

“It can’t be,” Rumpelteazer said. “He has to be alright.”

Then Mungojerrie’s eyes fluttered open. He looked around and let out a rough cough. Rumpelteazer pulled him into a massive hug. Mungojerrie hugged her back. Bageera let them hug for a few moments before he placed a paw on Mungojerrie’s shoulder. The tom looked up at him through Rumpelteazer’s fur.

“Why’d you do it?” Bageera asked. “Why’d you save me like that?”

Mungojerrie gave a small smile. “I couldn’t let him do it,” Mungojerrie said. “I couldn’t let him finish what... we started.”

Bageera was silent for a moment, breathing hard. Mungojerrie had just saved his life. The one Jellicle he hated as much as Macavity had just saved his life. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he realized that he only saved Mungojerrie because it was the best chance to strike Macavity. Under other circumstances, he might have just let Mungojerrie die.

“Hang in there,” he said. “You’re going to be fine, just keep breathing.”

Mungojerrie nodded. Then his eyes got wide and he took a deep intake of air. Before anything else could be done, Bageera’s head erupted in pain as he was smacked by the recovered Macavity. He fell to the side and heard Jazz scream. He rolled onto his back and looked up at Macavity. He had Jazz around the neck, his claws sinking into her throat.

“No!” Bageera shouted as he leapt to his paws.

“Hold it,” Macavity said, holding the broom handle out in one paw. “Or I’ll show you what I was going to do to Demeter if I had had the chance.”

The fur on his head was spiky with blood. His mane was shredded and ripped. His pelt had patches missing from it. His paws were ripping blood from where Mungojerrie had cawed him. He looked more like his mangy description than ever. But he still had a menacing air about him. An aura that demanded that he be obeyed. With his claws drawing blood from Jazz’s throat, Bageera had little choice but to obey.

“Very good,” Macavity said. “Now back up.”

Bageera hesitated only long enough for Macavity to tighten his grip. Then he backed up until he was with the others. Mungojerrie had come around and had gotten to his paws. Rumpelteazer was beside him, holding his arm. Munkustrap was in front of them, looking at his brother in shock.

“Now,” Macavity said. “The two of us are just going to walk away. And if I am satisfied that nobody has followed us, you might be lucky and find her alive somewhere. If I’m not satisfied, well…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Use your imagination.”

Bageera barred his fangs. “I’m going to find you,” he said. “This isn’t over.”

“Then I’m afraid you will soon find that you are the last survivor of your precious tribe.” He gave a wicked smile.

Jazz was trying to claw at Macavity’s arm. But whenever she tried sinking her claws into his flesh, he tightened his grip, forcing her to stop.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jazz choked out. “Finish him. That’s all that matters.” Macavity dug his claws into her throat to keep her from saying more. By now, her red collar was stained a darker shade from there mixed blood.

“Don’t speak,” Macavity whispered, bringing his face down and touching his cheek to hers. She wriggled at the touch. “What I said in the trunk was true,” he said. “I’d really hate to have to kill such a young, attractive queen such as yourself.”

He smiled as he licked up her cheek. Bageera jerked forward at this. Rage burned in his chest. It was all he could do to keep from lunging at Macavity.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” Macavity said as he began to back away.

Jazz began to struggle to get away. But each jerk she made sank his claws in deeper. Between the pain is her throat and the thought of what the Napoleon of crime was going to do to her if he got away with her, she couldn’t take it anymore. She let go of his arm and snapped both her paws. Sparks flew from her paws and burned into Macavity’s bloody arm. He shouted in pain and ripped his arm away, taking a sizable chunk from Jazz’s throat. She fell to her knees. Then to her back.

Bageera saw what happened and the fury in him erupted. He shot forth and grabbed the broom handle from Macavity’s paw and brought it up, connecting with Macavity’s muzzle. He stumbled back and Bageera swung again. This one smacked Macavity on the side of the head. He fell to the side, keeping on his paws by sure determination. Then Bageera smacked him across the back. Macavity went down flat on his face.

Smiling wickedly, Bageera raised the broom handle over his head. He was finally going to finish it. Macavity was finally going to be stopped. But before he could bring the handle down, a silver tabby got in his way.

“Stop!” Munkustrap said. “Don’t kill him.”

“Out of my way,” Bageera said, broom handle still over his head. “I have to finish this.”

“It is finished,” Munkustrap said. “He’s down.”

“He cannot be allowed to live,” Bageera said.

“I can’t let you kill him,” Munkustrap said, looking at the fallen tom. “He’s still my brother.”

That brought Bageera back to his senses. He whipped his head around and looked for Jazz. She was holding her neck, trying to keep it from bleeding. Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were with her. They had taken off her collar and were trying to staunch the blood flow. He let the broom handle slide from his paws and ran to her side.

“Jazz?” he asked urgently. “Jazz? Hang in there. Help is coming. Just hang in there.”

Jazz smiled up at him. “Is it over?” she whispered. “Did we get him?”

“Yes, Jazz,” Bageera said. “We got him. He’s being taken into custody right now.”

He looked over and saw Munkustrap and Mungojerrie tying the Napoleon of Crime up with bits of rope and wire they found in the area. Rumpelteazer was gone, presumably to find Alonzo and hopefully someone who could take care of Jazz’s neck.

He pulled her paws away from her throat long enough to see the damage done. It was bad. A large chunk of flesh was missing and there was a lot of blood still pouring out from the wound. Bageera pressed his paw to it, trying to stop it from bleeding while not suffocating Jazz while he was at it. He didn’t want to risk cauterizing it without someone to tell him what damage the sparks might cause.

“You did it,” Jazz coughed out through his paw and all the blood. “You finally defeated him.”

“No,” Bageera said. “We did it. Macavity will never hurt anyone else.”

“That’s good,” Jazz said, closing her eyes. “That’s so very good.”

“Quiet, now,” Bageera said. “Save your strength.”

“We can finally stop hunting,” she said softly. “We can finally rest.”

“Jazz?” Bageera asked. “Jazz? Stay with me. Please. I can’t lose you, too.”

There was a flash out of the corner of Bageera’s eye. He looked around and saw a tuxedo tom standing next to him. Mistoffelees had brought Alonzo with him. Alonzo went to help Munkustrap while Mistoffelees knelt next to Jazz and Bageera.

“She’s dying,” the magician said.

“No she’s not,” Bageera snapped. “She can’t die. She can’t.”

“Move aside,” Mistoffelees said. Bageera didn’t budge. “She will not survive without aide. Let me see the wound.”

Reluctantly, Bageera moved out of the way, letting Mistoffelees examine the wound. Mistoffelees looked into the wound and poked here and there. Jazz grunted quietly in pain, but Bageera took that as a good sign. It meant she was still alive.

“I was thinking about cauterizing the wound,” Bageera said. “We can do this snapping thing that creates sparks and-”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mistoffelees said, cutting Bageera off. For the first time, Bageera didn’t care. “This isn’t too bad,” the magician continued. “I think I can do something about it.”

He held his paws over Jazz’s neck and closed his eyes. Concentrating with all his might, Mistoffelees’ paws began to glow with a brilliant, white light. From the light, a green substance began to seep out. The substance seemed to drip from his paws and down onto Jazz’s neck. Jazz flinched as it filled the gaping wound in her throat. It seeped into all of the crevasses. Instantly, the blood flow stopped. As the substance filled out the wound, it took on the shape of her throat, forming a fresh layer of dark green skin.

When this was finished, Mistoffelees fell backwards, exhausted. Bageera didn’t care. He looked at the green patch of skin on Jazz’s throat and then looked up at her face. His eyes fluttered as if she were dreaming.

“Jazz?” he asked quietly. “Jazz? Can you hear me?”

Jazz opened her eyes. She looked up at Bageera through blurry eyes. “It’s cold,” she said before passing out completely. Bageera began to shake her, trying to get her to wake up.

“Don’t,” Mistoffelees said through gasps of breath. “I plugged up the whole, but I can’t do anything about all of the blood she lost. She’ll need to make more on her own.”

“Will she live?” Bageera asked.

“If she stays off her paws, eats a lot of meat and drinks plenty of water,” Mistoffelees said, “then she should make a full recovery. But she’ll always have that patch of green at her throat.”

Bageera smiled widely. “That doesn’t matter,” he said, holding Jazz close. “She’s going to live. That’s all I care about.”