S U R V I V O R S
season one
đ
episode 1
This is the pilot episode of Survivors, by Rainy.
Casper strode across the marsh, flicking his ears in annoyance as he heard his troops wade in after him, noisily splashing through the soggy grass. Whirling around, he hissed, "There's a reason I only brought three of you with me. Silence. Stealth. So shut up." "Sorry." Casper's best friend and second-in-command, a sleek ginger-and-white she-cat named Hyacinth, gave him an extremely unapologetic glance. "What mission are we even on, anyway?"
He shook his head. "Council didn't tell me. Just that we need to get there as quickly as possible."
"Of course the council didn't tell you. Bunch of lousy mangecoats," snarled Toby, a young gray tabby tom. "Think they're too good for us, except when they need our help."
Casper glanced at the cadet. It was unusual for him to bring along a cat still in training for an important mission, but Toby had proven himself time and time again to be exceptional. He picked up moves left and right, and he was intelligent enough to know how and when to use them.
It was only a matter of time before he made his first kill. Then he'd move up from cadet and would officially be a Tracker.
But for now, he needed to remember his place. "If I wanted to call the council names, I would've done so myself, and with better insults. But at this moment, I want you to fall in line and follow my orders, Toby," Casper said sharply. "That's what you're here to do."
Unoffended, Toby gave him a brisk salute with his tail, dropping behind to talk with the last member of their patrol, a black she-cat named Raven. Well, Toby talked, anyway. Raven had a reputation for hardly saying anything, ever. It was one of the reasons why she was one of Casper's favorite Trackers.
Hyacinth possessed no such reservations about chatting, even after her leader had just told them to quiet down--but then, she was Casper's best friend, so he guessed that was all right. She nudged him lightly, asking, "So is LightClan going to be at this council?"
"Yeah. LightClan and TreeClan generals."
She snorted. "Speaking of name calling. You know that whatever mission this is, LightClan is going to speak out against us. They hate us."
"I know. But we're not there to talk with LightClan. We're there to receive our mission."
They were out of the swamp by now, and Coalition Headquarters was visible on the horizon: a thick cluster of trees that ringed the council's meeting place. Beyond that, just a gathering of specks against the sky, he could see the dens of Yellowhills, a village of mostly LightClan cats where a lot of the backing industry for the war happened.
The patrol sped up till they reached Headquarters. Two burly toms stood in front of the trees. One of them mewed gruffly, "Password?"
"Cherryclaw," replied Casper dully. A LightClan cat had chosen this week's password, obviously. LightClan cats always made the password the name of a cat who had died in the war. It was morbid, really. Usually Casper just found it annoying, but this name was a lot worse than the others. This name brought up way too many awful memories.
He blinked, and images--memories--flickered in front of his mind's eye. The thick pine trees of Drurray Way, pungent with the smell of blood. Cats from both sides screaming, begging for their lives. He saw a vivid image of small brown tabby she-cat being dragged away, disappearing into a thick green-gray haze. He heard his own voice, hoarse from desperation, pleading for her to be brought back.
The Drurray Way Massacre had happened a year ago, but it still haunted him everyday.
She still haunted him everyday. He had never stopped searching for her, not in all the moons since she'd been taken. He couldn't believe that she was dead. She was too valuable; she could be used as leverage. Her captors, whichever Shadow Army patrol they were, had to be keeping her alive. He needed to keep thinking that. Someday, somehow, he had to find her. He had to make sure she was okay, because she'd been innocent. It was his fault she was taken. His fault, all his fault.
"Casper," snarled Hyacinth. "Are you just going to stand there like a rock, blocking the entrance?"
Jolting back to reality, Casper shot her a dirty glare before darting between the guards, into the base.
The cats of the council were assembled in two rows of three, their supposed unity dampened by the fact that the rows were neatly divided by Clan. The TreeClan generals, Leopardfur, Patcheye, and Lionspots all looked relatively relieved to see Casper and his Tracker patrol. On the other hand, LightClan's generals, Troutstrike, Pebblewhisker, and Violetfur didn't look happy at all.
"Welcome, Trackers-"
"Cut to the chase," Casper interrupted Violetfur rudely. She looked extremely offended, but he didn't care. LightClan cats had an annoying habit of using too many fancy words in an effort to cover up their true intentions, and it bothered him a lot. "What are we dealing with?"
"It's a hostage situation. We're facilitating a trade." Leopardfur stood, giving a short nod to the other two TreeClan generals. They disappeared behind a tree, coming out moments later with five gagged young RockClan apprentices.
Casper was suddenly really relieved that this was a hostage trade. In everything he did, there was one underlying theme: protect the innocent.
These were just apprentices, young, trembling, and clearly scared out of their minds. They might be RockClan, but they had committed no crime that he knew of. Their fates could've been a lot worse.
Nodding coldly at Leopardfur, he gestured to Raven and Hyacinth. "Bring them here. Keep them between us, surrounded."
While the apprentices were roughly shoved to the center of the Tracker patrol, one by one, he turned back to the council. "Where is the drop-off? And who are we exchanging them for?"
"I'm sure you're aware that there was a raid near Yellowhills recently," said Lionspots. "A vital weapons-supplier was invaded, and several of the workers were taken. You're trading these RockClan apprentices for two of our most skilled weaponry smiths."
Frowning, Casper said, "I thought the raid robbed us of a dozen workers."
"Do you really think the Shadow Army would trade a dozen workers for five scrawny apprentices?" scoffed Patcheye, his one good eye narrowed in derision. "We had to make our choice, and this is the only one that makes sense."
One of the apprentices, a scrappy ginger she-cat with a day-old cut above her forehead and odd white patches on the tips of her ears, growled through her gag and lunged out. Raven pinned her to the floor faster than Casper could blink. "Don't try that again," she hissed at the apprentice.
"Flamepaw. Been giving no one anything but trouble," said Lionspots curtly. He walked up to Flamepaw, shouldering Raven aside, and raised his paw to strike the RockClan hostage.
Raven whipped her tail against his paw, holding it fast. She glanced meaningfully at Casper, who moved between her and the TreeClan general. "We're in charge of the hostages now," Casper hissed at Lionspots. "Not you."
From the murderous look that Flamepaw gave him, he knew she didn't appreciate his defense of her at all. Not that he'd expected her to.
"So we're trading these five for two of our own. And what happens to the other ten that were taken during the raid?" asked Hyacinth.
Leopardfur frowned disapprovingly, as if Hyacinth was a little kit who had just embarrassed her with a socially unacceptable question. "This is a war, dear. Whatever happens to them, we can't stop it."
Her tone could've been less sarcastic, but the biggest problem was that Casper had no argument against that. It was a war, and he needed to do his job, not waste time by inquiring about ten inconsequential cats who wouldn't help them win this war.
"Okay. So the trade is for two weaponsmiths. Anything known about them?"
"One's a huge white cat with his left ear missing; he's called Blizzardbeak. And then there's an elderly black-and-white tom, Crowspots. Together, they make the best weapons this side of the Emerald River. Which is why we need them back," hissed Patcheye. He didn't add anymore, but Casper could sense the urgency behind his words.
Glancing down at his own claw-sheath, which was folded back against his right foreleg, Casper gave Patcheye a single nod. "Where will the trade take place?"
"Banks of Emerald River. Who is your locator in this patrol?"
"We're all Trackers. We don't need a designated locator," sneered Casper. "Just tell us all."
Scowling, Patcheye said, "Very well. It's across the River, directly horizontal from these headquarters. Just keep going east and you'll hit the spot. Careful while you're crossing the river, in case the Shadow Army troops decided to attack you while you're vulnerable."
"They won't. The RockClan general who's approving this trade is doing so without permission from his superiors," said Leopardfur. "He just wants the apprentices back. One of them must be a daughter or son of his."
Casper's perceptive eyes picked up on the way Flamepaw flinched, the resentment in her eyes tainted with sadness.
So this fiesty she-cat is the daughter of a RockClan general who is breaking the rules to get her back. Rough spot to be in.
At least that explained why RockClan was willing to give them two extremely valuable cats for just a pack of apprentices. They were getting the short end of the stick, but of course a father still loved his daughter, even if it was a time of war.
"Is that all, then?" he asked the council.
One of the LightClan generals, Troutstrike, snarled, "See that you don't hurt anyone who doesn't need to get hurt. No barbarically ruthless attacks."
"But be sure to kill any who threaten you," countered Lionspots immediately.
"The best thing about working with the Sho-Co is the amazing unity the leadership presents," mocked Hyacinth, lashing her tail as she began herding two of the hostages out of the headquarters.
Snorting, Toby followed suit, with Raven at his heels, the apprentices strung out in front of them.
Casper was about to follow, but he paused, looking over his shoulder as two guards dragged in a black she-cat from the opposite end of headquarters. The LightClan generals leaped to their paws, their eyes suddenly lighting with fire. The TreeClan generals tried to remain impassive, but Casper thought he detected a glimmer of nervousness in Leopardfur's gaze.
The guards flung the black she-cat on the ground. "Canary," hissed one of them. "She's a criminal."
Lionspots stood, his ears flattening against his head. "Oh yeah? And just what has she done?"
"She murdered two RockClan civilians in cold blood while on an intelligence collecting mission," said Troutstrike, looking up from speaking with one of the guards. The LightClan general looked furious. "You ordered this, didn't you? TreeClan, with your brutal, ruthless ways!"
"Send her to Isle Moormount. She's a murderer," snarled Violetfur, glaring down at the black she-cat, Canary.
"Now hold on a second," growled Patcheye. "She didn't kill one of our own. She killed a RockClan cat."
Whirling on the one-eyed tom, Pebblewhisker hissed, "Have you forgotten that there are still three Clans in Shashoake Valley?"
"Have you forgotten that there are only two Clans in the Coalition? RockClan sided with invaders," Lionspots said.
"Nevertheless, even in war, there are laws," said Violetfur, unmoved. "We agreed that there would be no senseless slaughter. Tell me, Canary. What was your reason for killing those RockClan cats?"
Canary raised her chin. "They were in my way."
"They were civilians. Have you no honor?" hissed one of the guards.
"Silence. It isn't your place to speak in the council," reprimanded Leopardfur. She turned to the LightClan council members. "With all due respect, you are only on the council to give LightClan a say in the Sho-Co's affairs. But Patcheye, Lionspots and I are all TreeClan army generals. We have experienced the war to its fullest extent, and we know the sacrifice it truly demands. You are too soft, too willing to pretend that things are the same as they were before Lord Vector invaded."
"And too willing to rely on the fact that Brookstar is Stonestar's sister," added Lionspots derisively. "She's already proven that she will lead RockClan down the dark path she's chosen, no matter who gets hurt. It's time for us to do the same. We have to commit to our cause."
As if she'd barely heard any of the TreeClan cats' comments, Violetfur said, "What are you trying to say?" Her keen gaze flickered from Canary to Lionspots. "Did you hire her?"
"We told her to do what had to be done. She's collected valuable information."
"Is that so? About what?"
"About where RockClan produces most of their weapons, where their storehouses and safehouses are-"
"She killed two civilians! She must be punished!" interrupted Pebblewhisker.
Leopardfur was about to respond, but then she caught Casper's eye. "What are you still doing here?" she demanded. "Get out! You have hostages to deliver."
He dipped his head in mock salute before darting out of the Coalition Headquarters, hurrying to catch up with his patrol.
When he reached them, Hyacinth gave him a dirty glance. "Okay, I know it's only five apprentices, but there was only three of us--and Toby's a cadet. What were you doing, leaving us alone with them? Did you space out again, like you did when we were entering?"
Reminding himself to forgive Hyacinth's callous reference to his reaction to Cherryclaw's name, as she didn't know what that name would bring up for him, Casper said, "Never mind why I stopped." Quickly, he whispered in her ear, telling her what he'd seen happen with the she-cat called Canary.
Her eyes grew wide. "Wow. The council is literally the most inefficient form of leading the war effort that anyone could ever think of."
"What happened?" asked Toby impatiently.
"Hush." Casper inclined his ears towards the RockClan hostages. "I'll tell you later."
Meanwhile, clearly not picking up on the warning, Hyacinth was launching into a full-out tirade.
"They're obviously not telling us everything. We didn't even know about the raid on the weaponmaking den until days after it happened. We might've done something to stop it, otherwise. Been more effective than those bumbling TreeClan and LightClan soldiers," fumed Hyacinth.
"Shut your mouth," said Raven, nodding meaningfully towards the five hostages. "There's no need to stuff the hostages with a preyload of information about our leadership. Let's just deliver them."
Though he agreed with Raven about not blabbing out all their secrets to the enemy, Casper actually didn't see much threat in any of the apprentices except Flamepaw. The other four were all meek and listless, their eyes dull above the thick leaf gags that bound their muzzles.
He didn't fancy trying to make them all swim across Emerald River, not in this condition. "We're taking the bridge."
Groaning in complaint, Hyacinth said, "But that'll mean a detour."
"It'll only take a few minutes. Unless you're willing to carry all five of these RockClan apprentices across the river, you'll have to be patient. Though I know what an impossible demand that is for you, Hyacinth," Casper said irritably.
She rolled her eyes at him, but changed direction towards the bridge. Honestly, any outsider looking in would've thought that he and Hyacinth hated each other--but the truth was, sarcasm and rudeness was the easiest way for them to communicate. They could see past all the rude layers and unsavory words, and each understood the other's real meaning immediately.
Being leader of the Trackers was exhausting. Without Hyacinth around to keep him grounded with her quips and jibes, Casper was sure he'd go insane. (Not that she didn't drive him crazy herself).
As the bridge came into view, positioned over the sparkling green waters of Emerald River, Casper could make out a patrol of cats standing atop the worn log that spanned the gap between the riverbanks. "So we weren't the only ones who decided this would be more sensible," said Toby, shooting Hyacinth a smug glance. She cuffed him on the ear.
There were three RockClan cats standing on the bridge. Behind them were the two hostages, Blizzardbeak and Crowspots. They matched their descriptions, and, save a few smudges of dirt and some stray cuts, they looked relatively unharmed.
Still, Casper's life had taught him well. He wasn't taking any chances.
He glanced down at his claw-sheath, still neatly pressed against his foreleg. Nearly all soldiers had them by now; bands of curved metal that fit over the lower part of a cat's leg. With a single flick, they would flip down over your claws, replacing regular nails with longer, sharper blades. Compared to the lighter, sleeker models that most soldiers now sported, his blades might be considered a little chunky. Yet despite its heavy silver banding, it was surprisingly delicate, and very agile. He could flip it down over his paw in less than a heartbeat, and then it capped each of his claws with wickedly sharp points.
"Sheaths at the ready," he whispered, and he heard the light scrape of metal as the other Trackers loosened their weapons for combat. "Toby, branch off from the group. Be ready to dart in and hold the RockClan cats back at the first sign of trouble to give us a chance to seize control. Raven, Hyacinth, flank the apprentices. I'll take lead."
He moved to the front of the group, and the other Trackers adjusted themselves according to his directions. "We are here for the hostage exchange!" he called once they were in earshot of the RockClan cats.
One of them, a sleek ginger tom with familiar white patches on his ear-tips, stepped forward. "We have your two weaponmakers. Stand where you are. Don't come any closer unless we tell you to."
Casper nodded, and his patrol came to a stop. Raven and Hyacinth exchanged wary glances, and Hyacinth flipped her claw-sheath forward.
All five apprentices were more alert now, especially Flamepaw, who was practically shaking with anticipation and nerves as she stared at the ginger tom, who of course had to be her father.
"He's risking a lot, you know, making this trade," whispered Hyacinth. "He's desperate to get Flamepaw back. And desperate cats are unstable."
"I know." A hostage situation was combustible enough on its own, but Flamepaw's father tripled the threat. He was a liability.
Casper didn't want anyone to get hurt, but his first priority was to complete his duty. "Send one of your cats forward with the hostages."
The ginger RockClan tom grit his teeth, then told his two soldiers to step back. He motioned for Blizzardbeak and Crowspots to walk ahead of him.
Casper waited till they were at the foot of the bridge before nodding at Hyacinth and Raven, who herded the five apprentices up.
The ginger tom's eyes welled with emotion. Breaking protocol, he rushed forward and nearly knocked Flamepaw over, tearing her gag off. "Daughter," he whispered.
Raven was cutting the gags and bindings off of Blizzardbeak and Crowspots. Hyacinth stood in front of her, eyes wary as she watched the RockClan general. Flamepaw was pulling away from her father, but she wasn't facing the bridge; she was facing the Trackers.
"Father," she whispered, "you shouldn't have risked coming here. Brookstar will be angry with you for trading these hostages."
"There was no choice. You were worth it."
"Not to Brookstar. But this might make it worth it."
Suddenly, Flamepaw exploded towards them. She hit Hyacinth in the chest, knocking the ginger-and-white she-cat to the ground. Casper let out a roar of rage and moved to drag the apprentice off his friend.
Things might've straightened out after that: Flamepaw couldn't have done much damage on her own. But then the two RockClan cats on the bridge broke ranks. One attacked Toby, and the other began clawing Raven. Casper saw red. "Call your soldiers off!" he shouted at the ginger tom.
But his eyes were focused on Flamepaw, who Casper had flung to the ground after tearing her off Hyacinth. "How dare you touch my daughter!"
The tom's first strike caught Casper's cheek. He snarled and clawed back before he realized what he'd done.
The RockClan general wasn't wearing a claw-sheath.
Blood spewed from the gash Casper had created on his foreleg; he had sliced all the way down to the bone.
Stomach pitching, Casper stumbled back. "Let's get out of here!" he called.
The ginger tom let out a scream. At first, Casper thought he had done even more damage than he'd thought with his claws. Then he saw what the tom was looking at.
Raven had Flamepaw pinned on the log bridge. Any sensible apprentice would give up at this point, but Flamepaw was still fighting. She struggled out from under Raven's grasp and sprang at her. "Raven!" shouted Hyacinth. Flamepaw would knock the both of them off the bridge if she kept it up.
Apparently sensing the danger, Raven flipped her sheath and held her paw up.
There was a horrible sound as Flamepaw, midleap, impaled herself throat-first on the claw-sheath.
Flamepaw went rigid, her eyes rolling back in her head as scarlet fountained from the hole ripped in her throat. Casper was frozen in horror. Raven was not. She wrenched her claw-sheath free and ran off the log, passing the ginger tom and his RockClan companions, who were running towards the fallen apprentice. The other four apprentices were crying silently from the other side of the log bridge, where they'd been instructed to wait by the RockClan warriors.
Casper knew, even before he heard the ginger tom's cry of anguish, that Flamepaw was dead.
"Savages! Barbarians! Murderers! You killed her! She was just an apprentice!" The ginger tom's eyes locked with Casper's and Raven's. "You and your Trackers will pay for this," he snarled. "Know this: my name is Sandpelt. I am a general of the Union. And you have sealed your fate by killing my daughter. We will meet again, and I will kill you."
Raven's face was stoic as she looked at the tom, crumpled over his dead daughter's body. Casper knew that it wouldn't take long for Sandpelt to realize his opportunity for revenge was standing on the other side of the bridge. "Come on," he muttered.
As they raced back towards the Coalition Headquarters, with Toby helping Blizzardbeak and Crowspots along, Casper reflected on how the Council would react. They had gotten their hostages back and had killed a RockClan apprentice. The TreeClan generals would be thrilled. The LightClan counselors would be furious, and maybe demand to have Raven tried for war crimes.
Let them try. Casper didn't care what his Trackers did; he would protect his own.
No, that wasn't exactly true. He had let many of his own go to prison or be sentenced to death... those who had worked under Maverick, the Trackers' previous leader, the cruelest cat Casper had ever known.
"Hey," Casper whispered to Raven, who was running beside him. Hyacinth was out of earshot, having run ahead to announce their return to the guards. "It's okay. We all have blood on our paws."
She gave him a simple nod, refusing, as usual, to say anything.
Casper focused on giving his mission report to the Council. Pushed away the thoughts gathering at the edges of his mind, trying to remind him of a past drenched in scarlet.
The End