by Chris Coppel
With that, O’Neil marched right past the five dogs and proceeded to the back of the warehouse. Rex gave the others a confused but cheerful shrug, then greeted the next applicant.
“My name’s Curtis,” said a thin, but fit looking Lab mix. “and I do walls. Natural balancer, I am!”
“Good,” Rex voiced appreciatively. “Welcome!”
The Lab mix nodded his thanks then made his way into the warehouse.
The process took most of the afternoon, but by sundown they had amassed a truly impressive group of canine mercenaries. They were all tough, well-seasoned and ready to storm the target prison.
After formulating a very precise battle plan, the dogs went off in search of food. Rex offered any who wanted it, a place in the warehouse to sleep but they all preferred finding their own shelter. They agreed on a sunrise rendezvous prior to their big mission.
O’Neil was the last dog out the door and was about to wander off into the growing gloom of the approaching night, when Rex stepped up to him.
“You mentioned when you got here that word was out about our mission, but you never told us what that meant exactly? How did you hear about us?”
O’Neil gave the Doberman a crusty grin then lowered his huge head to Rex’s ear. “Let’s just say a little kitty told me.” With that, he raised a paw to his nose in a gesture of ‘say no more,’ then trotted off into the night.
Just as he was about to vanish into the deepening shadows, he turned and called back across the deserted square. “Oh, and another thing…I was told to tell you that your supper will be in the same place as last night!” He then stepped into the darkness and vanished from sight.
“Did he say supper . . . as in food?” Angel squealed joyously from somewhere within the warehouse.
Indeed, he did, and for the second night in a row, the dogs ate a hearty and very satisfying dinner. Instead of steaks Los Gatos had left them an astonishing quantity of incredibly tender and tasty lamb chops. For the first time in any of the dog’s limited memory, they ate until they could eat no more. Even Angel with her seemingly bottomless belly, finally gave up with a couple of meaty chops still untouched in front of her.
Little was said among the animals that night as each delved into his or her own private thoughts. They knew that what lay before them at dawn the next morning was far more than a game or a chase. The next day was going to bring real danger, and though unspoken, each dog knew perfectly well that some of them might not even survive.
As Lucy stretched to relieve some of the pressure she felt from her overfilled stomach, she tried to imagine what death could be like. Her mother had told her that it was like a long sleep from which you never woke. That explanation had always satisfied her, but now, being faced with the possibility of real harm, she couldn’t seem to equate the sleep part with death through injury. Did one simply fall asleep when hurt badly enough? Exactly how badly did one have to be hurt to fall into that kind of sleep? Could regular sleep become that sort of sleep? Who decided when a hurt became a sleep?
She managed to give herself a headache, allowing the torrent of unanswerable questions to tumble and flow all too freely within the confined area of her brain. She decided to ask Rex, who was certain to know more on the subject but found him to be fast asleep, flat on his back with paws twitching up into the air. Not a very dignified image, but he did seem content, at least in his dreams.
She lowered her muzzle to her front paws and let out a long sigh, which she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding inside. She closed her eyes knowing that she had to get some sleep before the big battle in the morning.
As she began to drift away, she started dreaming about puppies. At first, she thought the adorable little dears belonged to someone else as she romped and played with them on a warm patch of lawn. Then it dawned on her that the five little brown and black pups were hers. They were her puppies! She stirred awake. How odd. She’d never had a dream like that before. Even after she’d watched them play and roll in her dream, she wondered what could have made her he come up with such a bizarre and unusual eventuality. Her having puppies!
Her conscious thoughts soon began to dissipate and swirl into a thin mist that then evaporated entirely, leaving Lucy to dream some more about her litter of five as they played on the sun-warmed lawn. As she looked on, a feeling of responsibility and pride filled her with such emotion that she suddenly began to cry in her sleep. The tears were not those of pain and fear, they were tears of pure, simple joy over emotions that had never before surfaced within her.
The mercenaries began filing into the warehouse before dawn. They looked rested and ready for battle. Some did morning stretches. Others practiced paw to paw techniques, while others played in one corner with a tennis ball that one of them had brought along. There was a sense of great tension in the air, which was both exhilarating and slightly frightening.
Lucy looked over the assembled crowd and wondered who among them would be hurt and who, if any, could even be . . . .
“Impressive isn’t it?” Rex said excitedly as he trotted up alongside her.
“It most definitely is,” Lucy agreed. “I almost feel sorry for those nasty bipeds. They’re certainly going to be surprised when they see this lot!”
“Lucy?” Rex said in a mock serious tone. “You actually feel sorry for them?”
“I said almost,” she replied with a wink.
The two stood for a moment longer watching as the final preparations for battle were completed. O’Neil then climbed onto an upturned crate and barked for some quiet.
The mercenaries settled down and all turned to face the wolfhound.
“Gentle dogs, we are here today, joined together as one fighting unit, for the task of freeing our captive canine friends. I would like to remind each of you that what you are about to do is dangerous. Some of you may be hurt, some may not even return at all, but the fact is that you, each of you, are about to not just free your imprisoned brothers, but will be striking a mighty blow against the tyrannical hand of bad bipeds everywhere. So, let’s move out. And remember, keep your heads high and your teeth bared.”
He looked down at the surging mass of eager dogs, then suddenly raised his head high into the air and let out a chilling howl. A dog in the crowd joined him, and then others did the same. Soon the entire assemblage had their heads in the air howling for all they were worth.
Even Lucy let out a brief howl then looked to the others with great embarrassment.
“Sorry,” she said, blushing. “I got carried away.”
“Lucy,” Rex spoke in a serious voice. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you . . .”
“I know Rex . . . I feel the same,” she said, interrupting.
“So, you’ll stay?” he said, relieved.
“What!?”
“I wanted to ask you and Angel to stay back here at the warehouse where it’s safe.”
“I thought when you said that you had something to say . . . ,” Lucy tried to speak.
“Look, we’ve got plenty of animals for the attack. I just don’t want you hurt.”
“If you think for one moment that I’ve come this far to sit like a good little hound, waiting here for you while you go out and rescue Rodney, then you have another think coming!”
“But . . . ,” Rex shook his head.
“No buts! We’re going with you. Right Angel.” She turned to the Spaniel who was staring back at her with an expression of complete disbelief.
“Of course,” she said sarcastically. “Why would anyone want to stay here where it’s warm and safe, when we could be out there risking our coats? Thanks Lucy.”
“I just thought that . . . ,” Lucy started to say.
“Hounds ho!” came the command as they all began filing out of the warehouse.
Lucy just had time to offer Angel a good luck nod before be
ing swept up by the crowd and ushered outside in readiness for the attack. It was all she could do to stay close to Rex among the tide of canine mercenaries. Once they were all outdoors, the dogs broke into two groups. One was led by O’Neil, the other by a very rugged looking German Shepherd.
With hardly a word being spoken, the groups split up, exiting the anchor square from either end. Lucy, Rex, and Angel were in O’Neil’s group and left the square by the river end. Hans and Lester were in the Shepherd’s group. There was a strained silence that pervaded the ranks as the dogs marched towards their objective.
Lucy was surprised that the mercenary dogs seemed to know exactly where the prison was located. It seemed that the place had a reputation, not only among former inmates, but among most of the city’s street animals as well. She managed to glean from a few snippets of conversation within the ranks that the place had been in operation for many years, and that it was about time someone rallied the dogs into closing the place down.
As the assault group moved along the shadows provided by a row of abandoned storefronts, Lucy began to recognise bits and pieces of the neighbourhood. It wasn’t clear, and her memories were a little foggy, but certain things rang a bell for her. She could remember a doorway here, a cracked window there. She tried as hard as she could to put the memories into some semblance of order so she could gauge just how close they were to the prison. While she was still trying to sort out her memories, the group rounded a corner and there it was!
Lucy had no trouble recognising the horrid place. As soon as she spotted it, she felt an icy shiver run the length of her back. She heard a low growling from somewhere close by, then realised it was coming from her.
They were at the back of the prison, near the rear yard door through which they had escaped thanks to Rodney and his knowledge of doors. The team assembled directly across from the corner where they’d hidden when they had spotted Pru on that fateful day, so long ago.
O’Neil carefully checked all around them, then gave the sign for the fighting force to cross the street and meet up at ‘Pru’ corner. Rex gave Lucy and Angel a knowing smile, as it was clear that each of them was being inundated with memories of their escape day.
They kept their position until O’Neil saw the Shepherd and his group reach the far corner on the other side of the prison’s main entrance.
The tension was thick. Lucy could hear her own stomach rumbling with nerves. She felt momentarily embarrassed by the sound until she noticed that she wasn’t alone. The harder she listened, the more rumbling stomachs she could hear. She had to smile knowing that even these proud, and outwardly brave, fighting dogs suffered from the same internal fears and nerves that she did.
O’Neil checked the front entrance again, then signalled the Shepherd at the far corner.
The attack was beginning.
Both groups moved out from their cover and began edging along the wall in single file, with both columns converging on the entry door located halfway along the wall.
Lucy felt an almost uncontainable pride, deep within her as she watched her new mercenary friends in action. They were so professional, so brave, so utterly . . .
Both lines froze. The front spotters had seen something and given the warning tail wag.
Lucy tried to follow the other dog’s line of sight but could only see a deserted building with cracked windows. Then she saw that something was moving on the wall. She had to squint to make out exactly what it was, but finally recognised it to be a squirrel.
She knew that couldn’t be the reason for the entire squad to be frozen in place, but as she watched the slow, oblivious movement of the squirrel, she realised that every pair of canine mercenary eyes were riveted on the tiny little creature.
With one last spring across the space between two weathered brick walls, the squirrel vanished from sight. The dogs refocused their attentions on the prison entrance and again began to edge towards the front door.
They were only a few feet from their target when Lucy caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked around, just in time to see the squirrel reappear and leap from one of the old buildings onto the branch of an adjacent tree. She prayed that she alone had noticed the reappearance of the creature, and casually returned her gaze to the others.
Every single dog was staring wide-eyed and was panting at the squirrel.
Lucy couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. What had happened to the training, the dedication, the . . .?
Her thoughts were rudely interrupted as the poor, witless squirrel trotted down the side of a tree then jumped onto the ground.
The mercenaries went crazy as many screamed, “Squirrel!” The dogs literally tripped over each other to break ranks and give chase to the now, fully aware, and very concerned, squirrel.
Lucy, Rex, Angel, Hans and Lester suddenly found themselves alone only a few feet from the prison entrance, watching as the last of the brave mercenaries rounded the far corner and vanished from sight in hot pursuit of one small, and to Lucy, inconsequential, rodent.
She turned to her friends, glad that they’d at least not given in to their hunting-lust emotions. She was astonished to see the three males shaking and drooling as they tried desperately to control their urge to dash off after the others.
“Rex, stop it!” she chided, in as quiet a voice as she could. After all, they were awfully close to the prison doors. “Hans? Lester?”
“We’re trying,” Rex managed to voice between firmly clenched teeth.
“Well, try harder. We’re too close to fail now!”
“I know,” came the strained reply.
Lucy looked over at her four comrades, three of whom were battling their primal urges to chase a squirrel and wondered what could possibly go wrong next.
She didn’t have to wait very long to find out.
CHAPTER 32
Just as Lucy was about to suggest a calm retreat to regroup and re-plan, now that the assault force was down to just them, the prison door swung open and Squat Lady stepped from within.
“What’s all the din out here?” she bellowed, causing far more noise than was ever present before her outburst.
Lucy looked to the others to see if they all were thinking along the same line as her. She felt a surge of satisfaction as each dog gave her a brief nod.
Rex was the first to move. He launched his muscular frame straight at the startled biped who tried to step back into the entrance. She might have made it too, if Angel, in a surprise show of bravery, hadn’t dashed forward and sank her teeth into Squat Lady’s bulging ankles.
The biped let out a blood-curdling scream and was about to reach down and grasp Angel when Rex hit her full on, knocking her backwards through the open doorway. Such was the force of Rex’s assault that Angel was still in exactly the same position, except instead of an ankle clenched between her teeth, she was now clasping one of Squat Lady’s black, lace-up boots.
Hans and Lester vaulted over the Spaniel, and by doing so, were the first within the prison proper. They both ran either side of the downed biped and found her to be groaning and dazed, and thereby of no immediate concern. Hans in a show of great caninity, even took a moment to give the hideous creature a lick of compassion. The two dogs then separated and went to either side of the entry hall, each covering one of the two doors that led from it.
With a reluctant sigh, Angel dropped the now well-chewed boot and together with Lucy, stepped into the building. Once inside, the five dogs were somewhat uncertain as to how to proceed. Their choice of action ended up being determined for them when Skull Face walked casually into the hall, completely unaware of the situation.
He took one look at the five, snarling dogs, then at the unconscious figure on the floor, and did the one thing that none of them was prepared for. He laughed. It wasn’t a very pleasant laugh either. It was more of a cross between a horse’s whinny
and a squirrel’s chatter. Such was the dog’s amazement at the biped’s reaction, they made the mistake of hesitating. Not for very long, but long enough for Skull Face to grab a club from a rack on the wall next to him.
He slammed the wooden weapon hard against the wall sending an ear-splitting crack echoing within the cramped space of the entry hall. It hurt everyone’s ears and made the point that he was not only now armed, but also clearly very willing to use the weapon if necessary.
“So then, you scruffy mutts,” he said in the reedy, nasal, voice they remembered from their earlier stay in the building. “What do you think you’re doing here?”
He took a step towards the dogs with the club held at his side and ready for use.
“Wait a minute. I know you, don’t I?” he said, pointing the club directly towards Angel.
“You too,” he gestured at Lucy. “You’re some of the lot that scarpered out of here the other day. Well, well, how nice to have you back.”
He stepped towards the open entry door and kicked it shut. At least that was his plan. The door swung to within inches of its jam then stopped and slowly swung back open.
“What the . . .!” Skull Face exclaimed.
He kicked the door again but with the same results. He kept his eyes on the five dogs and stepped out through the doorway and onto the street to see why it wouldn’t shut. He’d no sooner stepped through the doorway, when a fury of orange, black and white fur dropped onto his head and began yowling as it kicked, scratched, bit, and clawed the unsuspecting biped.
The dogs heard the familiar voice of Rye yell, “Shut the door! Now!”
Rex leapt forward and put all his weight against the heavy, wooden door and slammed it shut.
Lucy spotted an old-fashioned sliding bolt lock similar to the sort she was used to defeating in the cottage. She stepped over and gently, nudging Rex aside, used her nose to release the sliding bolt and manoeuvre it into place, bridging door and frame.