“Nice kitties,” Simon whispered at the dozen-plus cats that had surrounded the trio.

“You heard that, right?” Sarah asked, squeezing Simon’s hand until it was numb. “It sounded like…”

“Simon, you gotta get us out of here,” Tommy sputtered, clearly a moment away from a total meltdown. “Don’t you have some kind of anti-cat mojo you can zap them with?”

“Oops; left all my anti-cat mojo in my other pants,” Simon answered. He looked down and realized Tommy was holding his other hand. “Tom: do not go Bill Paxton on me.”

“We have to go now,” Sarah groaned, covered in sweat, teeth clenched. “I can’t…whatever got Mrs. B…whatever’s controlling the cats…it’s coming.”

The circle of cats closed tighter, attempting to herd Simon and his friends away from the door, the Tabby licking it’s lips in anticipation. Simon knew he had to do something now, before it was too late…

“Sorry, Tom,” Simon said as he shoved Tommy forward, dragging Sarah through the cat barricade and out the door, slamming it shut behind them.