…Blake almost stumbled over a cat. He saw it, let his rifle go, dove, grabbed the cat and rolled behind cover. The cat yowled. He smiled down at the cat and scratched the cat’s head with the tips of his fingers. Blake looked over his shoulder. Maybe Poppet was old enough for a pet. He kissed the cat’s head.
One of the soldiers struggled to his feet and saw Blake. Blake’s eyes widened. He threw the cat at the soldier’s face. The cat screeched and started scratching at the solder.
Blake surged to his feet, and pulled a pistol. “I’m so sorry,” he said, and shot the soldier. The soldier dropped to the ground gasping for air. The cat darted away and hid under a tent. Blake paused. “In case you were wondering, I was apologizing to the cat,” he said to the soldier.
He glanced around for the cat. It was long gone. So much for Poppet getting a kitten. Blake checked the ammo level on the pistol and kept going…