Flood

Chapter One
Bolta led the Clan cats with Hollypaw and Lightstar at her side. Jay was lagging behind, her gaze flickering to the black tom. Trying to ignore her, Bolta plunged further into the forest. They weren’t far from the stone hollow now. Her paws slipped and stumbled on the leaf-strewn ground and she stumbled over fallen logs. They turned a sharp corner before finally coming to a halt at the thorn-tunnel. Lightstar took the lead, Bolta second and Hollypaw third. Bolta flinched as the thorns dragged through her fur but it was soon over. She was in the stone hollow with the sandy ground and the towering cliff walls.

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here for a Clan meeting!” Lightstar yowled, clambering up onto a high ledge. Her Clan gathered instantly, leaping from bushes, hollow logs and bramble thickets. They stared curiously at Bolta and the others but none of them moved a claw. They’re all terrified of Lightstar, Bolta realised. They all saw what happened to Lionstar...

“We’ll be going to the Moonpool,” Lightstar announced. “There is no time to ask questions. Just do as your group leader tells you.” The DeathClan exchanged confused glances. “Your group leaders will be Jay, Bolta, Hollypaw and me. Hollypaw, Jay and Bolta, would you line up here for me.” Bolta stepped forwards and sat down a little apart from Jay and Hollypaw. Lightstar began to call out names and soon Bolta had a mixed group of well-muscled warriors behind her. She stifled a purr of amusement as she saw that Jay had the tom, Blackpaw in her group.

“Jay,” Lightstar yowled. “You take your group to the Moonpool now. The rest of us will follow.” Bolta watched Jay lead her group back out of the hollow. She then sat and stared at her own group. She recognized a few cats like, Foxwhisker, Robinsong, Silentspirit and Inkpaw. The rest were strangers to her.

A wet summer’s breeze stayed heavy in the air. Why has it so wet? But as soon as she asked her question was answered. Gasping, Bolta backed away. A huge wave of water had begun to gush down one of the cliff walls. Most of the other cats had noticed and had begun to make their way to the thorn-tunnel. The wave loomed up above Bolta’s head for a stretched out second before came crashing down onto her.

Water soaked through her fur in an instant, weighing her down beneath the water. It choked her, filling her ears and making her eyes sting. Bolta struggled, kicking her legs ferociously. At last her head broke the surface and she managed to get a few gulps of breath before being pulled under again. It happened again and again but finally Bolta managed to swim with her head above the water. Around her she could see other cats struggling to keep their heads above the surface. But one cat in particular caught her eye. It was a ginger kit that was being pulled by the current and was coughing and choking feebly. Bolta kicked her way over to it and grasped the scruff of its neck in her jaws. I have to get this cat to safety! That’s all Bolta thought of as she swam determinedly towards the place where the thorn-tunnel was. Water was already gushing through the hole. Bolta ducked back under the water and quickly through the thorn-tunnel.

She tumbled onto the shallow stream that was running down the forest on the other side. The ginger kit coughed and spluttered, its tiny sides heaving. Bolta laid it on its back on the dry ground. She began to rub its belly.

“Starkit!” Bolta’s head snapped up. A pale she-cat was stumbling over to a tree-stump. “Starkit!” the she-cat shrieked again. Bolta looked down at the small kit beside her.

“Over here!” she yowled. The grey queen streaked in a bee-line to her. Her soft blue eyes became pools as she saw the tiny bundle of drenched ginger fur.

“Oh, Starkit,” she whispered.

“He’s still breathing,” Bolta murmured. But as she looked down at Starkit she saw that the breaths were slower. Its tiny blue eyes drooping as its body began to shut down. The queen dropped to the ground beside her son. She began to lap Starkit’s fur.

“I’m here,” the queen murmured, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m here, Starkit.”

“Mum!!” a tiny voice cried. “Where are you?” Bolta turned to see a small grey kit make his way over to Starkit. “Mummy what’s wrong with Starkit. Why is he sleeping?” Bolta felt her heart ache for the small family. The pale queen looked up at her other son with eyes like watery pools. She seemed unable to speak.

“You’re brother is on his way to StarClan,” Bolta whispered. The grey tom let out a devastated cry and fell to the ground beside his brother.

“Don’t go Starkit!” he wailed. “I’ll be so lonely without you!” Bolta began to creep away. She made her way over to Hollypaw who looked just as drenched as Starkit and was shivering furiously.

“Are you okay?” Bolta demanded. Hollypaw couldn’t end up like Starkit. She couldn’t! Hollypaw gave a shaky nod.

“I just didn’t expect it,” she whispered. Her holly-leaf green eyes were wide and scared and then suddenly unfocused. What was happening to her? Soon the cloudiness left her eyes and they seemed to stretch even wider.

“Jay!” she cried. “Their losing!” Bolta jumped. She had forgotten all about JayClan!

“Any cat who is able!” she yowled at the top of her voice. “Get up and reform your group! We have to go and now!” There was a huge scurry as cats struggled to find their group leaders but soon they were racing towards the Moonpool. Bolta stumbled and slipped as she led every cat forwards. She was running faster then she had ever run in her life. They bounded across edge of the hills and very soon they came to the Moonpool stream. It was still running red with blood. Bolta leaped over it. Not waiting for the others she launched herself up the winding rock path. Her claws scrabbled in her rush to get to Jay in time. The others were close behind but she didn’t ever glance back. But when she came to the top she was frozen to the spot.

Cats ran in every direction. The sand was already splattered with blood and nasty wails and cries came from everywhere. Bolta gawped as she saw Flora. Her neck was scraped at either side so that it looked like she had gills. Her sides were red and tail covered in bite marks. But she struggled on, fighting like the whole of LionClan. It looked as if she were dancing as she weaved between battling cats and scraped or bit the occasional Dark Forest cat. On either side of her, her clanmates began to appear. They all stopped and stared.