Free Rachel Golden and the Retriever of Sin by Oliver Jackson Page B

to get into character.’ AC briefly disappeared into the bushes before returning with a handful of leaves. He tore a strip of red cloth from what could loosely be described as his shirt, and tied it around his forehead, commando style. He scooped up some dirt from the ground and rubbed it in lines across his face. Lastly he tucked some of the leaves into his clothes for camouflage. He pulled out his prison shank, and when he spoke his voice was much deeper than before. ‘Let’s roll,’ he growled.
    ‘Oh for god’s sake,’ Ros sighed. WHY did he have to be paired up with this psychopath? ‘I really don’t think you need to worry about camouflage, AC. You’re eight inches tall. All you need to do is crouch down behind a leaf and you’ll be invisible. And just what exactly is your plan anyway?’
    Assorted Colors stopped and straightened up, his voice returning to normal. He looked puzzled. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t really thought about that.’
    Ros rolled his eyes again. ‘Just get on. We’ll have a look at the camp and hopefully we can figure something out.’ Idiot , he added under his breath, and they trotted off after their friends.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    The next morning, a cat was walking through the forest, pulling a small red Radio Flyer cart behind him. Not especially unusual, except that the cat was walking on his hind legs, like a person. He was also wearing a three-piece suit. And a turtle was riding in the cart.
    ‘I say, Turtle,’ the cat began, stopping and turning to his companion.
    ‘No,’ the turtle cut him off. ‘I know what you’re going to say, and the answer’s “no”.’
    The cat looked shocked, and the monocle he was wearing nearly fell out of his eye. ‘Now hold on old chap, that’s a bit rich. I dare say you have no idea what I was going to suggest.’ He spoke with an upper class English accent.
    ‘You were going to say we should stop for food.’
    The cat looked scandalized again. ‘I was not! [He was] But since you mention it,’ he looked at his watch, ‘it is almost 11. It’s alright for you, getting pulled around in that cart, but all this fresh air and walking takes it out of a cat. I need to keep my strength up.’ He sat down cross-legged on the ground and pulled a cheeseburger and fries out the hip pockets of his jacket.
    ‘ Where do you keep getting that stuff?’ the turtle asked, amazed. There didn’t seem to have been room for the food in the cat’s pockets, and this was the third meal he’d pulled out of them today. And it was steaming. ‘And keeping your strength up is fine, but I’m amazed you’re not dead. All you ever eat is junk food. Your cholesterol must be through the roof.’
    McKitten wasn’t listening. He unwrapped his burger and poured the fries out of their red and gold cardboard sleeve onto the wrapper. ‘Want my pickle and tomato?’
    Turtle sighed. ‘Yes.’ Might as well keep his strength up too. Tracking down fugitives wasn’t his idea of fun. He would much rather have been lunching on crisp iceberg lettuce at the club. Still, warm vegetables smeared with ketchup were better than nothing.
    They weren’t long into their meal, when they heard a noise. It was a muffled sort of groaning, coming from just around the corner. The two lawyers stopped and looked at each other, mid-chew. ‘Better go and investigate, Turtle, what?’ the cat said, scooping the last of the fries into his mouth. Still chewing, with half a cheeseburger in one hand and the cart handle in the other, he went off to see about the disturbance. What he saw was surprising.
    In a small copse, around the smoking remnants of a fire, three creatures were tied up and gagged. They were staring at Turtle and McKitten with wide imploring eyes. McKitten, still savoring the last of his burger, walked over to the most human looking one of the group and pulled his gag down. ‘Hello Toby, what? Looks like you’re in a bit of a pickle.’
    Toby groaned. This was the last