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A car had approached, and was driving at some distance behind her, the headlights blindingly bright. She held a hand to her eyes to shield them from the sudden glare, and also to protect her brain from this unwelcome intrusion. The organ was still, after all, trying to make its human stay upright and functional, and this introduction of a car into the situation compelled it to recalibrate.

“Car,” Angel muttered as she wondered why it wasn’t passing her as it should. Instead it kept on driving at a snail’s pace, following about thirty feet behind, high beams on.

“Hey, you can pass,” she bellowed to the car’s invisible driver as she gestured wildly to get a move on and make the world return to the peace and quiet of that gentle night.

But the driver, whoever he or she was, seemed to enjoy this silly game, and made no move to speed up.

For the first time since she’d set out on her trek home, Angel experienced a tinge of alarm. It niggled at the part of her brain that wasn’t yet fully soaked in alcohol, and it caused her to frown and consider her options. Option A: do nothing and pretend that the car wasn’t there. Option B: run into the woods and hide.And option C:… This was where unfortunately she drew a complete blank. There were always three options. That she knew from experience. So why could her hardworking brain only come up with two?

And then her body decided to make the decision for her, and abruptly veered right and disappeared into the woods at a modest little trot. It wasn’t a fully-fledged ‘I’m being chased by a chainsaw-wielding maniac and I have to run for my life’ kind of thing but more of a ‘I have no idea what the heck I’m doing and I hope that when I wake up tomorrow with a splitting headache I won’t remember this harrowing episode.’

Unfortunately for her, whoever the person in the car was had parked the automobile and was now in hot pursuit, as the crashing sounds through the brush behind her and the snapping of twigs and fallen branches clearly indicated.

“Oh, dear,” said her brain. “I think we’re in big trouble here, Angel. Run, girl—run for your life!”

Unfortunately Angel’s coordination wasn’t what it usually was, and so after suddenly arriving at and stopping short of tumbling into what looked like a small pond, she momentarily just stood there, uncertain of her next course of action. And this is when whoever was chasing her finally caught up with her. And when she turned and looked at the person, the eerie light of a full moon lit up her persecutor’s features, and it was a testament to the soundness of her faculties that even in her state of inebriation she still realized this wasn’t a good sign: the person was wearing a mask!

Uh-oh.

Unfortunately for her she never saw the club as it whizzed through the crisp night air and hit her right on the foggy noggin. And then the world suddenly turned as dark as her attacker’s outfit, as if someone had flicked the light switch. And Angel knew no more.

1

Dooley had been watching one of his favorite programs on television with bated breath, when all of a sudden he became aware of screams reaching his highly attuned ears. The screams seemed to come from the vicinity of the backyard, and so he reluctantly allowed his attention to be drawn away from the shenanigans of the Aztecs when confronted with Hern?n Cort?s, to focus on the sounds of distress instead.

“Max?” he said.

“Mh?” said his friend, who was napping happily on the couch right next to him.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Max, who wasn’t the kind of cat who allows anything to intrude upon the perfect nap, whether it be the fate of the Aztecs or a person in jeopardy.

“I think I heard screaming.”

Max opened one lazy eye to take in the TV show as it was unfolding for an audience of one.“When an entire population is slaughtered by a bunch of marauding Spaniards eager to lay their greedy hands on your gold I think you’d scream too, Dooley.”

“But it didn’t come from the TV. It came from somewhere outside.”

Max frowned, and this time directed his own finely-tuned ears to turn like antennae and search for the sounds of distress Dooley had picked up.

“I don’t hear anything,” Max muttered at first. Then, as his frown deepened, and so did his concentration, he amended his earlier statement. “No, you’re right. There’s definitely someone screaming.”

“Do you think we should go and take a look?” asked Dooley. He really wanted to know what would happen to those poor Aztecs when confronted with that bloodthirsty Cort?s.

But Max had other ideas.“Let’s go,” he said curtly, and like only a feline can, immediately he was wide awake and ready for action, springing from the couch.

What a cat, Dooley thought as he followed his friend out through the pet flap. One minute he’s resting peacefully, oblivious to the world and its troubles, and the next he’s ready to help a human in need.