When I was found in the alley, I couldn’t make out who had lifted me from the trash heap. My eyes were caked with layers of filth, sealing them almost completely shut. But I could never forget the voice of my savior—it was Jimmy’s.

“Oh, you don’t look as dead as the others,” Jimmy’s voice broke through the darkness. “Shame I can only bring one of you back. Alright, little one, let’s get you cleaned up.”

I remember being bundled in something warm and soft before being washed in a tub. Jimmy scrubbed my fur and eyes clean with soap and warm water, dissolving the crusted filth that had blinded me. For the first time in days, I could breathe without the stench of decay clinging to me. Afterward, he dried me off with a towel, swaddled me in a blanket, and held me close like I was something precious. Like my life mattered to another being.

“What do you think we should name him?” a different voice asked. It wasn’t Jimmy’s—it was lighter, softer. When I opened my eyes for the first time, I saw Alan’s almond-shaped, dark brown eyes gazing down at me, filled with curiosity and a warmth I had never known.

“Everyone has to do their part on the ship, right?” Jimmy said with a grin. “How about Page? He could be everyone’s little helper—always ready when you need him.”

“Yeah, I like that name,” Alan said, a smile spreading across her face. “Page… Page…”

*****

“Page, are you there? You have to wake up.”

A sharp, acrid odor tore into my nostrils. The jolt shot through me like lightning, forcing my body into motion. My body shuddered from the jarring sensation. My eyes blinked against the sudden flood of light, and the first thing I saw was Flynn’s face, his eyes wide and whiskers twitching with visible relief.

“Oh, good! You’re alive,” he said, holding a vial so tiny it looked as though it had been crafted from a single shard of glass, perfectly suited for a rat’s nimble paws. “Curious?” he added, when he caught my stare. “Just a bit of wake-up juice…”

“Do I even want to know what’s in it?”

Flynn’s chuckle was light but amused, his tiny shoulders shaking. “Oh, just vinegar. Simple and effective.”

A sudden, acrid tang erupted in my mouth, making me gag. I hissed, my fur bristling as I spat, trying to rid myself of the lingering foulness. It wasn't the vinegar, but the bitter residue of the Soul Cleanser that Marlow had thrust into my throat. 

“There's no time to joke around!” Marlow scolded. “We need to go!”

“He’s right. We need to get out of here,” Flynn urged, nudging my side with surprising strength for his size.

On shaky legs, I rose and took in the devastation around me. Lee continued his wild circuit around the room, always one step ahead of Dr. Starkey and Alan, their outstretched hands always just missing him, swiping at empty air. The room was a battlefield—overturned shelves spilled jagged shards of glass, shattered vials glistened in puddles of unknown liquids, and torn fabric littered the floor and toppled furniture lay in ruin.

Then I saw it—the wraith. It was slithering across the debris-strewn floor toward the dark corner where Ziggy lay in a basket. His bandaged legs sprawled limp, his head lolled back, and a faint snore wheezed from his open mouth, unaware of the encroaching threat.

There was no sense in trying to fight the wraith; every blow would slip through it like punches in a fog. Gritting my teeth, I gathered what strength remained in me and sprinted toward Ziggy, my paws skidding over shards of broken glass and splinters strewn in my path. 

“Ziggy! Ziggy, please wake up!” I shouted, propping myself against the basket and leaning over Ziggy. I gave him a slap. “ZIGGY!”

With a sudden start, he blinked awake, lazily swiping his tongue over the drool at the corner of his mouth. When his eyes met mine, his face slowly brightened. “Page! You’re alive! I thought you were a goner. That was a big…a big…kaboom!”

“Yes, I'm alive. But I don’t have much time to explain,” I said, frantically. “You need to get up and follow me.”

He blinked, trying to focus. “Of course, my dear brother… I'll go wherever you go…” His voice trailed off and his head lolled as he began to doze off again.

“ZIGGY!” I cried more desperately now. “Please, wake up! There’s no time—we need to go!”

He glanced down at his bandaged legs, and said, “I'm not sure if I even have the strength.”

Ziggy yawned, fighting to keep his eyes open. Slowly, he dragged himself out of the basket, wincing as he limped toward the door. But before he could reach it, his body betrayed him. His legs gave way, and he crumpled to the floor; the vet’s sleeping drug was still coursing through his veins and had pulled him into another deep sleep.

The wraith crept nearer to his limp body. Rusty charged forward, the razor blade in his paws flashing in a deadly arc as he lifted it over his head then down. The blade sheared through the wraith’s bony arm. The creature hissed. Thick, tar-like ooze gushed from the gaping wound, staining the floor in sticky pools as the wraith reared back, momentarily disoriented.  

Rusty raised the blade for another swing, but a sudden force slammed into him, sending him flying across the room. The razor blade skittered out of reach. 

“Oh, great! Now we have rats too?” Dr. Starkey exclaimed, exasperation etched into her face. She groaned in irritation as she swung the broom high, ready to strike Rusty's motionless body again. 

She froze mid-swing as Lee lunged at her, clamping his teeth onto the hem of her pants. Digging his paws into the floor, he tugged with all his might, a low growl rumbling from his throat. His small frame strained against her momentum but managed to halt her just in time, pulling her off balance.

“Ah! Bad dog!” she shrieked, swiping the soft bristles of the broom at Lee’s head in a desperate attempt to dislodge him. Her movements were hesitant, more a light tapping than a forceful blow, as she couldn’t bring herself to hurt him.

Alan gently scooped up the sleeping Ziggy, holding him close, his small body nestled in the crook of her arm. She reached out with her free hand, her fingers aiming for my neck, but I slipped out of range. Letting out a weary sigh, she tucked Ziggy into the basket with care and turned her attention to me. As I kept myself just out of her reach, I spotted Marlow dashing toward the abandoned blade and Flynn hurrying to Rusty, only to be knocked aside by Dr. Starkey, now freed from Lee, with her broom. 

The wraith—it was on the move. It slithered toward Rusty.