by Chris Coppel
“Isn’t there anyone else who could get through the hatch?” Lucy asked, hopefully.
“There’s no one here close to Rod’s size. The only other small-ish breed in the whole place is . . . well forget it.”
“What do you mean, forget it?” she said urgently. “Who is it? Come on. If there’s any chance at all, we must take it. Now tell me, who is it?”
All three males turned their heads and together looked over to a far corner where a lone dog sat in the shadows. Even from a distance, Lucy could see that the animal was in a terrible state, as it whined pathetically to no one in particular.
“Angel!?” She exclaimed.
“You asked,” retorted the Doberman.
“Has anyone spoken to her?” Lucy enquired.
“What’s the point in that?” the Rottweiler said, stepping closer to the group. “Look at her, she’s a mess. You can’t even get a word in between her sniffling and whining. Typical female!”
The Doberman cleared his throat loudly.
“Present company excepted, of course, Miss,” the Rottweiler hastened to add, nodding at Lucy.
“Do you mind if I give it a try? After all, maybe, female to female…?” Lucy asked hesitantly.
The three males looked to each other, then shrugged their shoulders. “Why not?” the first Doberman said, speaking for them all.
Lucy gave them an encouraging smile, then, with a casual stride, moved across the yard to the shadowed corner and the sad and pathetic outline of Angel.
“Hello,” Lucy began. “I couldn’t help but notice how upset you seem to be. I thought that perhaps a nice chat would help.”
Lucy was stunned when the Spaniel, instead of calming under her gentle words, broke into an even louder and more intense outbreak of tears.
“Now, there’s no need for that,” Lucy chided gently. “I only want to help.”
Angel was clearly nearing a state of hysteria. Her sobbing and wailing were beginning to attract the attention of others in the yard. Including, much to Lucy’s horror, that of Champ, who was now facing them.
“Please lower your voice, we don’t want to attract any attention,” Lucy whispered urgently. It had no effect on the other animal whatsoever. Lucy turned to the yard, and gave the onlookers a calm and unconcerned smile, then while pretending to sniff at the base of the wall, gave Angel a brief, but very sharp nip at her backside. The Spaniel leapt to her paws, and with a yelp of surprise, looked at Lucy’s face for the first time.
“What was that for?” Angel asked in a weak, and sob-riddled voice. “Why’d you bite me?”
“I’ll bite you again, only much harder if you don’t stop carrying on,” Lucy retorted.
“Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to anyone.”
“That’s just too bad,” Lucy responded with a sharp edge to her voice. “I happen to wish to speak with you, which I most certainly can’t do with you making enough noise for six dogs.”
“Well, I’m miserable,” Angel said, pathetically.
“We all are, you silly girl. Look around you. Do you think any of us wants to be here? Do you think we wouldn’t all prefer to be home with our humans right this very minute?”
“I guess,” Angel said.
“Then stop behaving like a spoiled puppy,” Lucy continued. “and maybe, just maybe we can all work together and find a way out of here.”
“How?” she said with a definite edge to her voice.
“That’s better,” Lucy whispered reassuringly. “You see the little latch over on your right. Well . . .”
“You mean the one Rodney and his bullies have been working on for the past two weeks?”
“Keep your voice down,” Lucy hissed. “What do you know about that?”
“I know they’ve been wasting their time,” Angel said with some certainty. “This yard is below street level, and that hatch is the bottom of an old coal drop.”
“A what?” Lucy asked, as she felt an uncomfortable icy knot develop in her stomach.
“A coal drop. This yard was the storage area for some sort of factory, and that hatch is the lower end of a chute that leads to the street.”
“That sounds promising,” Lucy tried hopefully.
“No, it doesn’t,” Angel corrected. “It’s probably a four-foot drop to the hatch and at street level there will be a set of double doors, which will almost certainly be locked even if we could climb up the chute which, by the way, we most certainly could not. Oh, and another thing, the door that Rod thought he could simply open with a quick leap and a tap . . .”
“Yes?” Lucy asked suspiciously.
“Check out the hinges.” Angel gestured with her head.
“They are rusted solid. That door hasn’t been opened in years, and certainly couldn’t be made to open by anyone from this group.”
“What makes you so knowledgeable?” Lucy asked in a troubled voice, dreading the thought of having to pass on Angel’s ‘tips’ to the others.
“Just am that’s all,” she said.
“But this escape is particularly important to them. Were you just going to stand back and watch them fail?” Lucy asked, as she stared into the spaniel’s face waiting for some show of remorse.
Angel didn’t speak for a long moment, then in a very quiet and calm voice said, “No. I was in fact going to take full advantage of the situation.”
“How’s that?” Lucy queried.
“Look, I may as well confess now, as what was supposed to be my diversion has been scuppered,” she said, scanning the yard for anyone listening in. “You’ve heard my crying and carrying on, haven’t you?”
“Who hasn’t?”
“Exactly,” Angel said. “But that’s all you’ve heard isn’t it? You haven’t for instance heard the work I’ve been doing in my cell, have you?”
Lucy shook her head, confused at what the small dog was saying.
“Because I’m the pathetic, harmless one, they thought nothing of leaving me in a cell with a window.”
“What?” Lucy exclaimed.
“Shh,” Angel snapped. “Keep your voice down.”
“Sorry,” Lucy whispered.
“It’s high up, and at first I didn’t know how to reach it, but after a while, I found that with a good run up, I could push off the side wall, and get up onto the ledge.”
“But surely, it must be closed.”
“Of course, it is,” she said smiling. “Which is why I’ve been chewing off the window putty for the past two weeks. That’s why I’ve been making such a din with the crying, and such. It’s to cover my work.”
“Haven’t they noticed the bits of putty in your cell when they hose it out?” Lucy asked, incredulously.
“Why do you think I’m over here every day?” Angel asked, as she subtly touched Lucy with her front paw, and then pointed to a small drain tucked in the corner of the yard. It was well concealed from view by the deep shadows cast by the height of the wall.
Lucy glanced down at the drain without moving her head and saw to her astonishment that a sizeable wad of putty was jammed down into it. Lucy tried to stop the joy she felt inside from registering on her face.
“How much longer do you need?” she asked as her mind swam with this new possibility for freedom.
“I could probably force that glass out in a couple of days, but I was hoping for a good diversion to cover the noise.”
A thought suddenly hit Lucy. “You were going to break out alone, weren’t you?”
“Absolutely! It’s safer that way,” Angel replied, with surprising calm.
Lucy studied the other animal, then said, “You realise I’ll now have to tell the others?”
“I guessed as much. Only do me one favour,” Angel asked. “Let me finish up first. I don’t want someone to tip the humans off before I’m ready.”
“But weren’t you going to give it a go today, if Rodney had been here and had gone through with his plan?” Lucy asked.
“Yes, but I really need two more days. Please give me that,” she practically pleaded.
“You won’t go off without us?” Lucy asked suspiciously.
“Not likely, now that you know,” Angel replied.
Lucy shrugged.
“Just two days, then you can tell everyone,” Angel assured her.
“Alright, you’ve got your two days.”
“Thanks,” she said with conviction. “Now if you don’t mind, I feel a cry coming on.”
Lucy nodded her head as the other dog began almost instantly to howl miserably with amazing conviction. Lucy couldn’t help but grin as she walked back towards the others.
She most certainly wouldn’t have felt anything like as pleased, if she’d had any idea of the chaos and drama that was about to unfold.
CHAPTER 8
Lucy slept surprisingly well and woke feeling, not contentment exactly, but some strange underlying sensation that things would turn out all right. She even ate a good quantity of her grey slop, without hardly gagging at all.
Her sense of well-being continued right up until mid-morning, when an elegantly dressed male and female biped appeared at her cell with Skull Face, and the squat lady. The four stood chattering for a moment, then Squat Lady opened the gate and stepped into the enclosure. She was using a friendly tone of encouragement in her voice, but after the smoke incident, Lucy didn’t trust her one bit.
The woman placed a surprisingly heavy collar over Lucy’s head, causing her to have sudden flashes of memories. She thought of her Man and of their wonderful walks. She could almost smell the scent of the emerald-green grass, but the memories only lasted until Squat Lady attached a lead to the collar, then pulled her roughly out into the passageway.
Lucy saw that all the inmates seemed to be gathered at the front of their cells as she was led by. A few gave her a nod of encouragement, but most simply looked sadly back at her.
They passed by Angel’s cell and Lucy was surprised to find that she too was at her gate, trying to force a smile for Lucy’s sake. They arrived at the door at the far end of the passageway, and as Skull Face reached for the handle, the door flew open, and Fat Man almost ran into him.
“Oh, there you are,” he said breathlessly. “I thought you might have left.”
“Well, clearly we haven’t, have we?” said Skull Face.
“Yes . . . I see that,” Fat Man stammered on. “I just checked with the coast and apparently there’s a gale blowing in the channel. All ferry crossings have been cancelled.”
The other bipeds looked distraught at his words, though of course Lucy had no idea why.
“How long did they think the storm will go on for?” Squat Lady asked, while setting fire to a white tube in her mouth.
“Couple of days apparently,” he replied.
“What about the tunnel?” She asked, as she blew out a plume of smoke.
“Totally booked for today. Want me to see about tomorrow?”
“You do that,” she croaked.
“Blast it!” the elegant man swore. “Well, let’s put the dog back.”
Much to Lucy’s surprise, Fat Man reached down and roughly removed the collar. “I’ll put this back in the safe.” He turned and headed into the main building.
Lucy, misunderstanding what was expected of her, started to follow. Squat Lady suddenly grabbed her by the neck, and literally threw her back into the passageway. She landed hard but froze in place so as not to upset the human any further. Squat Lady moved towards her with a menacing expression on her squishy face. Lucy got shakily to her feet and backed away from the woman. She was not particularly good at walking backwards and kept stumbling. Finally, she realised that she had reached her own enclosure and practically dived into her cell. The woman appeared at the gate, and with a truly nasty sneer, slammed it shut. She glared at Lucy for a long moment, then strode off.
Lucy couldn’t seem to stop trembling. Even after Squat Lady left, she just couldn’t relax. Finally, with the help of some deep breathing (recommended by the Afghan), she began to calm down. By the time Fat Man appeared to release them for the yard, she felt almost canine again. She was surprised at the warmth of the greeting she received.
“That was close,” The Doberman said.
“What was?” Lucy asked.
The second Doberman who, to date, had never said a word, stepped up to her, and in a voice laced with a mild Welsh accent, said, “Young lady, do you not know how close you came to being taken away this morning?”
“No,” she replied with surprise. “You don’t mean . . . ?”
“Yes, I do. That couple was here to escort you out of the country, and just possibly out of your life too.”
Lucy sat back heavily on her haunches. She suddenly felt dizzy.
“Now there, young lady,” said the Welsh Doberman. “They didn’t take you away, did they? We will simply have to find a way to ensure that they don’t, that’s all.”
Lucy pondered for a second, then said hopefully, “I have a feeling that Angel might just have something up her collar.”
“Looks to me as if she’s about to end up in a very sticky situation,” the Rottweiler exclaimed, gesturing to Angel’s corner.
The rain was pouring down in a steady and unrelenting stream. As Lucy and the others looked on, they saw that the water wasn’t draining on Angel’s side of the yard.
“The putty!” Lucy exclaimed. “It’s blocked the drain.”
Sure enough, Angel was frantically trying to dig out the mound of putty but with little success. They couldn’t run over to help, as the Boxer would be curious as to their concern. Lucy and the Rottweiler casually strolled across the yard, and through the rising waters. It was over an inch high at Angel’s end.
As soon as they reached the corner, they could see that there was nothing to be done. Angel had jammed the grey material very tightly down into the narrow drain, and her attempts to dislodge it may have had the opposite effect than intended. The drain was completely blocked.
They looked into Angel’s face and were utterly surprised at the calm they read in her eyes. The water was now above their paws, and it was only a matter of time before someone noticed. Lucy glanced into the yard to check the whereabouts of the Boxer but couldn’t spot him anywhere.
Angel got to her feet slowly and said, “I don’t know about you, but I can’t think of a good reason why we shouldn’t make a break for it today.”
“You may have a point,” Lucy replied with feigned calm.
The Rottweiler nodded his agreement, then in an almost military voice said. “I’ll prepare the others. Can you two finish off the window?”
“We’ll manage,” Angel replied.
Angel and Lucy moved over to the passageway door and confirmed that it was ajar. They then slipped inside, and eased the door shut behind them. Once out of the rain, and with all the other animals being in the yard, the passageway was strangely silent. The two dogs moved past the empty enclosures, making as little sound as was possible on the hard flooring. They were highly relieved to not encounter the Fat Man hosing down the cells. They didn’t know where he was, and quite frankly didn’t care so long as he wasn’t near them.
They reached the enclosure before Angel’s, and with a great surge of relief stepped passed it, and into Angel’s cell.
They both froze in their tracks as they instantly spotted Fat Man, as he stood on his toes examining the loosened glass in the window frame. At his feet was Champ, contentedly chewing a slab of meat.
The man and the dog sensed the other two and swung their heads around. Lucy just had time to notice how similar the two heads looked as they glared across the cell at her before Angel shouted, “out!”
&n
bsp; Lucy didn’t have to be told twice. As she spun out of the cell, Angel turned the other way and with a hard flick of her muzzle managed to swing the gate closed. As the handle was on the outside, she had in fact managed to shut Fat Man and the Boxer in her own cell.
The two dogs wasted no time in self-congratulation and charged back down the passage and into the yard only to run smack into a veritable sea of dogs. They were being led by the Doberman and the Rottweiler toward the planned escape route.
“Sorry,” Angel yelled to be heard over the rain. “Spot of bother back there. Escape’s off!”
There was a distinct murmur of disappointment from the crowd.
“What do you mean, off?” the lead Doberman asked.
“I mean that our friend, Champ, has done it again!” Lucy replied, while fighting to hold back tears of pure anger.
“And uh . . . we may have also upset the Fat Man,” Angel added casually.
“Oh great,” said the Rottweiler. “Now we’re all in for it. If only there was some other way out,”
“Well, unless you believe in miracles,” Angel said forcibly. “I suggest we all . . . what is that god awful noise?”
Sure enough, the air was filled with a terrible squealing sound that was piercing even over the din of the downpour.
They all looked around but couldn’t locate the source.
“Anyway, as I was saying we’d better just,” Angel continued, “set our minds to the fact . . .”
“When the blazes did you stop crying,” asked a voice from the crowd.
The masses parted to reveal a very wet and thus, seemingly even smaller, Rodney. “I hate to break up your little prayer meeting, but I’ve been pushing at that bloomin’ door for hours and now that it’s open, I think the least you could all do is have the courtesy of using it to escape.”
Because of the rising water in the yard, only the top half of the Yorkie was visible above it. There was a moment of stunned silence from everyone, then one by one they began to move towards the door, slowly at first, then progressing to a mad dash.