Animal Control

Set in the 211 universe

“211, may I get your name and location please?” Darcy asked, left hand poised over her keyboard, the right one giving her stress ball the few last squeezes of her arrival routine.

“Um, y'all do animal control, right?” Darcy’s caller had the rounded vowels and heavy drawl of the Georgian coastline. “Because I’ve got a cat up a tree.”

“No sir, your local animal control can handle–” 

“Not even if it's three feet long and green?”

Darcy paused, then moved her mouse off the disconnect button and pulled up several databases: known Powered with animal familiars, escaped genetic experiments, and documented shifting Powers.

“Alright sir, that is something we handle. May I get your location please?" 

“About 40 miles out of Macon, Georgia. Can’t you pull it up on those fancy computers of yours?”

“No sir, I do not have a warrant to trace your location. It's that 40 miles north, south, east, or west?”

“Closest town is Hope. Take the only road north out of it, turn onto Cotton St., about five miles down that one, you'll see the only idiot in the area pacing up and down the road watching a green cat glaring at him from a tree.”

“Gotcha,” Darcy said, adding the location data to all her open databases. “The cat, does it look like a domestic cat scaled up?”

“Weeeeell, now that I'm looking closer, the ears aren't right… To far forward I think. And um. The tail’s kinda wrapped around the tree like it's holding on…”

Darcy’s hands started flashing across her keyboard.

“How soon until y'all get here? It's really freaking me out. It's watching me pretty close and there’s something wrong with its eyes.”

“Are the pupils kind of square?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Okay sir, please back up, give the cat at least 100 feet. The team will be there in three minutes.”