There was an eerie feel to the building, the fading light glinting off jagged pieces of broken glass and the darkness gathered inside so thick they could not see past it. They walked up to the entry, glancing at one another for reassurance, and stopped at the revolving doors when they refused to give. Panther moved to one of the side doors, reached through the broken window to release the catch, and slipped inside. The others followed.
They stood in the lobby, an imposing hall with a high ceiling and old furniture set about its broad open space in carefully arranged clusters. The stuffing was coming out of most of it, the leather and fabric cracked and split.
They could hear the scurrying sound of rodents, and tiny dark forms shot into view in sudden bursts and were gone.
"Playmates for the pussycats," whispered Panther with a grin, but nobody smiled back.
The silence was deep and pervasive and troubling. Hawk glanced around uneasily, searching for the entrance that would admit them to the adjoining building, but found nothing. They spread out across the room, peering down corridors and up stairways. Because the buildings were connected, the entrance, if it existed, could be anywhere.
Fixit tugged on Hawk's sleeve. "Cats are climbers," he said softly, glancing over at the broad stairway leading up.
Hawk had counted the floors from outside, and there were at least seventeen or eighteen–several more than in the adjoining building. He didn't like the thought of climbing that high with no idea of what he was getting into.
He didn't like leaving the relative safety of the open streets. He considered his options, and then gathered the others about him.
"Panther and I are going up. The rest of you wait here. Watch our backs.
Don't let us get trapped up there. We'll be quick."
He was just turning away when Candle suddenly doubled over, clutching at her head and sagging to her knees. She moaned softly, her eyes squeezing shut, her breathing turning quick and harsh. Hawk knew at once what was happening and knelt in front of her, gripping her slender shoulders.
"What do you see?" he whispered. He could feel the others pressing close about them.
"Blood everywhere," she whispered.
"That's enough for me," Panther said at once. "I don't like how this place feels either. Let's get out of here." He made as if to leave, but Hawk and the others stayed where they were. Panther wheeled back. "Are you paying attention, man? Are you listening to her? Are you listening to your own self?"
Hawk ignored him. He stroked Candle's blond head and cradled her against him. "It's all right, sweetie, it's all right. Tell me. Where is the blood? Whose is it?"
The little girl shook her head, then opened her eyes and looked at Hawk.
"Here. It's here. But I can't tell whose it is."
Hawk went cold and for an instant thought about doing what Panther wanted and just leaving without taking this business any further. He forced himself not to begin looking around the room for whatever might have caused Candle's vision to come to pass.
"Do you see anything else?" he asked softly, holding her gaze, showing her he was not afraid.
She shook her head again. "I'm sorry, Hawk."
"No, it's okay. You have nothing to be sorry about."
He got back on his feet, bringing her up with him, still holding on to her, waiting until she was steady enough to release. Then he looked at the others. "I'm still going up. I'll do it alone. No one else needs to go. I want to see what's up there, take a quick look around. The rest of you wait here, and I'll be right back. If something happens, get out right away."
"No!" Candle said at once, reaching for him anew, grabbing his wrist.
"Don't go up there, Hawk! Don't!"
"Candle, let go," he said firmly, and he disengaged himself, moving her back into Bear's arms. "I'll be careful."
Her head lowered, her eyes closed, and she began to rock. "Don't go, don't go," she said, over and over.
The rest of them kept silent, but they were saying the same thing with the looks they gave him. He turned away quickly and started up the stairs.
"Aw, man!" he heard Panther exclaim. "Wait up!" Then the other boy was beside him, his dark face clouded with anger. "Can't be letting you go alone.
You die up there, who you think gets the blame? C'mon, let's get this over with!" Hawk nodded, and together they began to climb.
IT TOOK THEM awhile to get to the top floor. Hawk had decided that it would be best if they worked their way down rather than up. He thought that Fixit might be on to something. Cats liked to climb, so it figured that Tiger and his bunch, true to their name, might have chosen a place on the upper floors. If so, the passage from this building to the next was probably going to be found there.
But the top three floors were higher than the adjoining building, and a quick look out one of the windows on the highest revealed that there were no ladders or ropes allowing for descent to the other building's roof. So they went down to the first floor that allowed direct access and began searching. The rooms were all the same, their windows broken out, their sleeping and living rooms cluttered with decaying furniture and trash, their carpeted floors water–stained and worn, and their papered walls cracked and peeling. Hawk searched them swiftly, aware that the light was continuing to fail, conscious of a quickening in the approach of darkness. He did not like this building. He did not like how it made him feel.
Finding nothing on that floor, they descended to the next. Almost immediately they discovered the makeshift door that had been knocked in the wall of the rearmost sleeping room. After a futile pause to listen for signs of life, they stepped into the adjoining building and found themselves inside a warren of rooms that had once been offices, filled with desks and filing cabinets, with shelving and books, and with machines that no longer ran. The rooms were shadowed and empty of life, and there was no sign of the Cats. They searched the entire floor without success, then went down another floor and started again.
"How many we gonna search?" Panther whispered, his voice conveying a mix of uneasiness and frustration. "This gonna take us for ever!
Hawk agreed. They began moving quickly from floor to floor, not bothering with a thorough search, but settling for a quick scan that would reveal any sign of occupancy. They got all the way down to the ninth floor before they found what they were looking for. Nine floors, nine lives, Hawk was thinking before he realized what he was looking at.
"Frickin' hell, Bird‑Man," Panther breathed softly.
A huge section of the wall was broken out near the stairwell, and Hawk could tell at a glance that the damage was recent. It hadn't given way on its own; it had been forced. Beyond the rubble of the wall a body lay half buried in the debris. Farther in, doorways and entries had been forcibly broken out and widened, their jambs shattered, the supporting walls ripped apart. Even in the heavy layer of shadows and thin veil of weakening light, Hawk could detect other bodies scattered about.
Everything, for as far as he could see through the damaged walls and entries, was torn to pieces.
He stepped into the room, climbed over the rubble, and bent down to the first body. He had to pull part of an old curtain off it to make certain it was one of the Cats. It was an older boy, his eyes open and staring, his face contorted in pain and horror. There was a huge swollen purplish mark on his neck with a dark center, as if he had been stung. Hawk had never seen a wound like it. He studied the body for other damage and didn't find any. With Panther following, he moved on.
They found a dozen dead boys and girls of varying ages, some of them bearing the same purplish mark and others simply crushed. One was decapitated and another missing both arms and one leg. The level of violence was shattering; the Cats had been caught unawares and unable to defend themselves. It looked as if they had tried to flee, but there had been no escape.