Nine Lives Between the Wires

The air inside the warehouse tasted like rust and secrets—a sharp tang that clung to Ada’s tongue as she slipped through the battered side door. Moonlight spilled through shattered glass overhead, throwing fractured shadows on piles of decaying crates. Beneath the heavy rumble of distant trains, she could hear it: claws skittering over concrete, soft mewling in the dark. The cats were nervous tonight.

She paused beside a leaning pillar, her palm brushing the dented metal flask at her hip. Not whiskey—she’d have given anything for whiskey—but something more precious these days: pheromone spray. She shook the bottle gently before uncapping it, letting the scent drift toward the rafters where two tabby shapes trembled above.

Story illustration

“Easy,” Ada murmured, voice steady despite the thrum of tension crawling up her spine. “It’s just me.”

One cat peered down with wary golden eyes, but the spray worked its subtle magic. Within seconds, their hunched shoulders loosened and they crept down to greet her, tails twitching with tentative curiosity instead of panic.

She knelt to scratch behind their ears. “Good girls. No fighting tonight.”

The city outside was a snarl of wires and steam—clockwork trams rattled past neon-lit speakeasies while patrol drones zipped overhead in search of troublemakers. Control was absolute; freedom was currency only traded after midnight. Ada didn’t care about politics most nights—not when she was simply trying to keep herself and these strays alive—but when Leon asked for help, she couldn’t refuse.

Tonight’s job was simple: get him a passkey chip hidden somewhere in this forsaken warehouse. Simple, except for the city’s enforcers scouring every shadow for signs of rebellion.

A sudden crash echoed from above—a crate tumbling from a rotted beam. The cats bolted for cover, but not far; Ada’s calming spray lingered on old sacks piled beneath a blown-out window, their new safe haven. Only one—the youngest, skittish gray—remained behind a broken water tank, eyes wild.

“Come on out,” Ada coaxed softly, kneeling beside the tank. She pulled out the spray again and misted it across her coat sleeve before reaching out. Slowly, the kitten emerged to nose her hand before curling in her lap.

“Always works,” she whispered with a tired smile.

Leon arrived ten minutes late—boots scuffing noisily across grit and glass. His eyes flickered with urgency as he ducked behind a stack of barrels.

“Did you find it?” he hissed.

Ada nodded at an oil drum near the wall. “In there.”

He knelt to retrieve the chip from its hiding place but paused as two tabbies circled his feet.

“What are you doing with all these cats?” he muttered, exasperation sharp in his whisper.

“They’re safer here than out there,” Ada shot back. “Besides, someone’s got to look after them.”

He pressed his lips into a hard line but said nothing more; everyone had their own way of fighting back against control these days—hers just happened to have fur and claws.

Leon slipped the passkey into his jacket as Ada sprayed another dose onto a battered carrier near the door. If they had to move fast—and they might—the scent would soothe any feline panic when she scooped up her charges for escape.

As if on cue, distant sirens wailed through broken panes: city enforcers on patrol. Ada stiffened; Leon’s hand shot out to grip her arm.

“Time to go.”

She rounded up as many cats as she could carry—two in arms, three more squeezed into carriers already laced with calming pheromones—and followed Leon through a maze of rotting crates toward an exit hidden by sagging tarps. Every step was punctuated by purrs and soft mews instead of frantic scrabbling; she knew it was thanks to that little bottle tucked in her pocket.

Outside, the night burned bright with electric blue—drones hovering close enough that Ada could see their red-lensed eyes sweeping alleyways for movement. Leon vanished into fog-thick streets while Ada darted down another route, heart pounding as she clutched her cargo close.

Later—safe in a cramped back room above an old apothecary—Ada watched as the cats settled onto threadbare cushions without so much as a hiss or scratch among them. The city might be an iron fist around their necks, but here in this small space scented with calming pheromones and defiance, freedom was still possible—if only for one night at a time.

🛍 Product Featured in This Story

Product image

RUNMAT Cat Calming Pheromone Spray, Anti Anxiety Pet Products, Feline Calm Pheromones - Cats Reduces Scratching Furniture Peeing Marking, Calming Cat for Travel, Vet Visits - 60 Day Kit (2 * 60 mL)

$21.99

View on Amazon

We may earn a small commission if you purchase through our link.

This site may contain affiliate links to Amazon products. As an Amazon Associate, we earn from qualifying purchases.