Eric set the external drive up as a barricade across his hiding corner beneath the edge of the cabinet. Ginger slowed, thinking her prey was now assured. Eric kept most of his attention on the feline towering before him, but he also kept an eye on Peter.
In the confusion, Peter began a quick, four-footed dance over the keyboard. The bosun and first mate were paying attention to the cat. Peter leaped high and landed with all fours on the Enter key. It looked like it didn’t budge.
On the floor, the cat smacked the front of the drive shoving Eric hard against the corner.
“Peter!” he squeaked out in alarm.
“Hang on. The key is stuck. That stupid bosun must have dumped a whole can of root beer on the keyboard.” Peter ran up the first mate’s arm, reached his shoulder, and launched himself on
