Disco sniffed and contemplated hugging the shadows and just getting out of this place, but something made him stop. A sound. What was that? A tiny meow? He licked his lips. He hadn’t had meat in weeks, and the feral cats that now made this their home was just what he was looking for.
He bent down again, searching for the source of the sound, when he heard shuffling feet coming his way. He remained crouched until whispered voices matched the footsteps he’d heard earlier.
“It wasn’t my fault. I set it up correctly,” a male voice said. He sounded angry and had a slight accent, but Disco couldn’t pick the nationality.
“Yeah, the guy’s an idiot. If we get blamed for this, I’ll be taking his sister for payment,” said his friend. They both laughed and continued walking past the clown head booth.
When he was sure they had passed, Disco jumped back over the counter into the alleyway. His feet shifted under the loose gravel, but he remained upright. He peered into the darkness, but couldn’t see where the men had gone. They couldn’t have left the park that quickly.
He walked in the direction they were headed to see if he could find out what they were up to. He rounded the last booth that was now mostly just a counter, since the walls and roof had caved into a big pile of wood.
He couldn’t see them, but he heard something in the old cafeteria. It was one of the few buildings here that was mostly intact, and he sidled up to the wall at the back of the building. A high window was slightly open, and he could hear the men shuffling about and talking, although he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He needed to get closer.
On the other side of the building was the staff entrance to the kitchen. Disco walked around and touched the door gently to see if it would swing open if pushed, or if it was locked. It was unlocked, and he opened it just far enough so that he could look inside without anyone noticing.