Free Anton and Cecil, Book 2 by Lisa Martin

landing in the dirt next to the rails. “Come on,” he called to Anton.
    Anton looked at him in a panic. “Cecil! Get back up here! What are you doing?”
    â€œI’m trying to keep our mission going. Come with me!”
    â€œNo! We have to stay on. It’s the only way we have to travel!” The great chuffing sounds began and the train started to move.
    Anton’s stomach did a somersault.
    The train was moving in the wrong direction.
    â€œBut, how . . .” Anton began.
    â€œDon’t worry about how,” Cecil said quickly, trotting on the ground below. “Just get off the train.”
    The man with the flag spotted Cecil on the ground and stepped toward him, swatting at him with the flag to drive him away from the grinding wheels. Cecil ducked around the man and began to lope next to the train, calling up to Anton. “You have to jump out! Come on, you can do it!”
    Anton was paralyzed. He realized that Cecil was right, that the train was going back to where it had come from. If he stayed on it he’d never find Hieronymus, and maybe he would lose Cecil as well. But the train was picking up speed, and looking down was making him dizzy. The ground seemed very far away.
    â€œAnton!” yelled Cecil, falling behind the pace of the train. “Jump now!”
    Anton gathered all four paws together at the very edge of the doorway and leaned out. The huge, undulating wheels were so close—if he fell into one of them he’d be ground to bits. The carriage bumped and swayed on the rails. Dust flew up into his nose and eyes. He hunched his shoulders and looked back at Cecil desperately, but Cecil couldn’t help him. Every passing second stretched the distance between them, and still he hesitated. Hieronymus’s pointed little face rose up in his mind.
What kind of rescuer am I if I can’t even rescue myself ?
    He tensed every muscle in his body, gathered his courage, squeezed his eyes shut, and with a yowl from deep in his chest, he hurled himself from the train.

CHAPTER 6
    Cat Overboard
    S ometime during the night it began to rain in drenching bucketfuls, washing streams of mud across the rails, pounding on the roofs of the train carriages, puddling in the dirt tracks where horses and humans traversed. Anton and Cecil had taken refuge in a large space underneath a house near the train yard, but low, rolling thunder boomed over the plains and shook the two cats awake from their fitful napping again and again. A stack of pallets kept them off the wet ground, and the brothers wrapped themselves into tight balls next to each other, trying to sleep, waiting out the storm.
    At first light, Cecil opened one eye at the sound of two men stomping up the wooden steps and into the house above his head. Soon he saw the feet of more people traipsing up while others came down, and there was a steady tromping back and forth inside the house. The rain still fell at a drizzle but nothing like the night before. Anton stirred and sat up, gazing around groggily. He began cleaning his filthy fur, starting with his ears.
    Cecil regarded his brother and suppressed a chuckle. “Old Billy has a saying, you know. He says, ‘Cats always land paws down.’ ” He smiled. “You sure proved that one wrong, didn’t you?”
    Anton glared at Cecil and continued with his bath. “Let’s see what part
you
land on next time
you
jump out of a moving train. I’m lucky to be alive.”
    Cecil flicked his tail with the memory. “I didn’t think you’d ever stop rolling. And that
screech
when you jumped! It was as loud as our old buddy Athena. Impressive.” He attempted a grave expression. “Seriously, how do you feel?”
    Anton arched his back and stretched his hind legs one at a time. “Battered, but I’ll be fine. Hungry, though.” He looked toward the steps. “What’s all the commotion?”
    â€œI was wondering