Four-Footed Angels

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Four-Footed Angels Page 26

by J. T. Livingston


  He had dropped the key to the padlock during his scuffle with the man at the door, and he knew that he couldn’t leave the men unattended in an unlocked cabin. He continued his nervous pacing and finally made a decision. He holstered his gun and moved to the man closest to him…the one crumpled on the floor behind the door. He grabbed the man’s arm and heard a low moan coming from him. “Well, good, you ain’t dead yet…” He turned the man over on his back and pulled him into the door way. There were plenty of stars in the sky, but no visible moon, so the night was much darker than usual. Clint left Ross lying in the doorway and rushed to his truck. He started it up and positioned it so that it was facing the cabin. He turned on the truck lights so that he would be able to see what had to be done next.

  “Tim…” Ross turned his head in the last direction he saw his friend. There was no sound coming from the right corner of the cabin.

  Clint ran back inside the cabin and grabbed Ross underneath both arms. He began dragging him toward the burning pit. He was not as young as he once was, and Ross Taylor was a heavy man, so it took him almost ten minutes to drag him to the edge of the pit. He left him there and ran back inside for the other investigator.

  Ross turned his head slightly toward the pit and wished he hadn’t. The smell of rotting animal corpses quickly overwhelmed him. His brain, along with training he had received, automatically registered the smell as a combination of sulfur dioxide, methane, benzene derivatives, and long chain hydrocarbons that were produced when body parts were in their decomposing phase. The smell was so utterly disgusting and sickening, that he quickly associated the stench with the smell of death. Ross Taylor was grateful that he had not had anything to eat in the past twenty-four hours.

  Ross tried to turn on his side to see what was causing the stomach-wrenching stench, even though he was fairly certain of what it might be. He and Tim had recently attended a class on the various stages of animal decomposition. The first phase began approximately four minutes after death and lasted for about 3 days. Putrefaction was the second stage of decomposition, and occurred 4 to 10 days after death. Black putrefaction, also known as active decay, usually began between 10 to 25 days after death. The fourth stage was called butyric fermentation, and began 20 to 25 days after death. The final stage in animal decomposition - dry decay – began between 25 to 50 days after death and could take as long as one year. The only remnants of the animal, during this final and last phase of decomposition, would be dried skin, hair, and bones.

  Ross could barely make out a powdery substance that covered the top layer of corpses; he guessed that it was, most likely, quick lime. He fell back and looked up into a sky full of stars but no moon. “Stupid sons-of-bitches…” he gasped and closed his eyes. “These Georgia rednecks probably think that applying quick lime will speed up the decomposition…idiots…if they only knew that it helps in controlling some of the odor but does nothing to speed up decomposition…” he thought. “What these fools don’t realize is that, by using quick lime, they have actually helped to preserve these bodies…and, this evidence. The more lime used, the better the preservation…resulting in more physical evidence to be used against them when they get caught…and…they WILL be caught…”

  The night air actually felt good against Ross’ battered body. It was the first time he had been outside since their capture on Wednesday, and, as bad as the pit stench was, he welcomed the opportunity to be lying outside instead of being cooped up in that dark cabin. He didn’t know how long it had been since Clint Meacham had dragged him outside. He had hit his head on the floor when he fell inside, and his eyes still burned with pain. He heard movement and the sound of something being dragged toward him. He turned his head to the right and saw Clint’s backside inching toward him. He winced when Tim’s body was rolled roughly up against his own. He saw the pool of blood on Tim’s shirt and the paleness of his face. He felt a second of relief when Tim’s eyes opened slightly. His friend was still alive!

  That sense of relief did not last long, because in the next instant, Ross felt his feet and legs being lifted. His hands grasped at the earth beneath him, but he could not stop Clint from pushing him backwards…backwards into the stench-filled pit that was filled with the rotting corpses of deceased animals. He screamed in agony when his bruised ribs made contact with the soft, squishy bodies of recently killed bait dogs.

  Tyler heard the scream and took off at a faster sprint. He was within fifty feet of the pit when he saw Clint Meacham push a body into the burning pit. “NOOOOOO!” he screamed. He knew that Amanda was right behind him, but still hidden in the darkness of the woods. He turned around quickly and whispered, “Stay back, Amanda…please!” He continued running toward the pit but stopped abruptly when he saw the gun in Meacham’s hands.

  “Well, well…” Clint grinned. “Look at who’s come to the rescue. Well, you’re too late pretty boy…move over by the truck…nice and slow…I would hate to have to waste another bullet. Come on…MOVE!”

  Tyler did not dare to look back to see if Amanda had listened to him; he did not want to give away her presence. There was still a chance she could make it out of here alive, and he would do everything in his power to see that she did. He held his hands up in the air. “Take it easy, Clint. Why don’t you put that gun down? Nobody has to get hurt…” He walked slowly toward the truck and prayed that Clint’s full attention would be on him…and him alone.

  “Too late for that, pretty boy…okay, stop,” he ordered when Tyler reached the truck. “Take off your jacket and boots, and empty your pockets.”

  “I don’t have any weapons on me, Clint…” Tyler began.

  “Shut up!” Clint ordered. He was enjoying this much more than he had imagined he would. He had never killed anyone before, but the power he felt when he pulled the trigger on the investigator was unlike any he had ever felt before.

  Tyler removed his jacket and shoes, and turned his pockets inside out to show Clint that he had been telling the truth about not having any weapons. “See…no weapons…come on, Clint…let’s talk about this.”

  “The time for talking ended the minute you showed up here tonight, kid. Now, move over there…that’s right…toward the pit…” He waited for Tyler to comply with his order. “Now, it’s up to you…you can do this the easy way, or…I can just shoot you, and push you in along with your two accomplices…”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Tyler fought for a way to delay the inevitable. He glanced quickly into the pit and saw the outline of two bodies.

  “Don’t even try to talk your way out of this, Jones. Oh, wait…no…Jones isn’t even your real name, is it? You see…Little John had his own investigator working on you all this time…and, he finally found out about an hour ago who you really are. It didn’t take him long to put all the pieces together…to know that you were working as the inside man, with those two, to bust up his dog-fighting business. You gotta know that he’s not happy about that.”

  “What are you going to do with me?” Tyler was doing his best to stall for time, but knew that it could still be an hour or more before anyone noticed his absence at the fights. The authorities would allow the fights to play out in their entirety before making the bust, so it would probably be closer toward midnight before the fights ended and the bust began.

  “That’s for Little John to decide. I know what I would like to do to you, but he gave me specific instructions to save you for himself…you can bet it won’t be pretty, though. So…until then, I need you to jump down into that pit. Go ahead now…either jump or I’ll shoot your legs out from under you and push you in myself…your choice…”

  Amanda had listened to Tyler’s plea and remained hidden in the woods, but she was close enough to hear the conversation taking place between her future husband and Abbott’s skinny side-kick. She was about to stand up and announce her presence when she suddenly felt something cold and wet against her neck. She turned around sharply and stared into the soulful eyes of
her long-lost pet. She sighed and closed her eyes when Sam’s eyes turned a brilliant gold and he moved stealthily around her.

  Tyler had moved to the edge of the pit, as Clint had instructed him to. He breathed heavily as Clint advanced toward him, and waved the gun carelessly at Tyler’s head. His foot was already at the edge of pit and he felt some of the dirt giving way beneath it. He was ready to follow Clint’s orders and jump into the pit when he saw a flash of gold creeping slowly toward Clint. He didn’t know how he knew what was about to happen, but he did.

  “Well, it looks like I’m going to have to waste another bullet after all…” Clint gleamed. He lowered the gun toward Tyler’s kneecap and fired his gun. The brunt force of an 70-pound angel dog, barreled hard into his spine, and forced the intended bullet into the ground beside Tyler’s foot.

  Tyler jumped out of the way just in time. Clint dropped his gun and fell forward, but managed to stand up again; however, before he could turn around to see who or what had hit him, he took another hard pounding in his spine. This last pounding sent him over the edge into the burning pit. He landed squarely on his stomach beside a large German Shepherd that had been tossed there a few hours before.

  Clint Meacham soiled his pants when the Shepherd emitted a weak, but definite growl.

  Amanda came running from the woods and wrapped her arms around Tyler. She rubbed her hands up and down his sides and cried out, “Oh, God…are you okay…did he shoot you…tell me you’re okay!”

  Tyler took her in his arms and held her until her breathing, as well as his own, began to steady. “I’m okay…I’m okay…really…you can let go now, Amanda…”

  Amanda released her hold on him and stood back to inspect him, to reassure herself that he was really okay. She looked around for Sam and saw him standing on the other side of the pit, looking down into it. She thought that he looked especially sad when he looked up at her and began backing away into the wood line. “Sam! Come back here! Where are you going?”

  Tyler held her arm tightly when she tried to turn and follow Sam. “Let him go, Amanda. His job isn’t finished yet.” He looked down into the pit and shook his head. “I don’t think this was on Sam’s To-Do list for tonight, but he did what he had to do to save us. I think he’s probably headed back to the fight…to be there when it all comes crashing down around Little John Abbott…to be there for Spartacus and the other dogs…”

  Amanda nodded her head. “Okay…okay…I get that…” She turned to look down into the pit and gasped. “Oh, my, God! Tyler… we’ve got to get them out of there.”

  “The pit’s too deep, Amanda. I don’t have anything to get them out, but, I need you to listen to me. I need you to stay here with them until I get back. There’s nothing you can do to help get them out of there, but if they regain consciousness, it might help them to know that someone is coming to help them. Whatever you do, do not try to get them out by yourself; trust me, you’ll just end up in there with them, and you do not want to be inside that pit. I will be back as quick as I can. Don’t go into the cabin, either. If you hear anyone coming, head back into that wood line and hide. There’s plenty of rope back at the bunk house. I can take Clint’s truck and be back in less than thirty minutes. Promise me you can stay out of trouble for thirty minutes?”

  “Okay, okay…go!” Amanda shouted. “But hurry! I don’t care whether that scumbag gets out or not, but those other two don’t look so good. I’ll be fine…don’t worry about me.”

  Tyler pulled on his shoes and rushed toward Clint’s truck. He was thankful that Clint had left the keys in the ignition. “Thirty minutes!” he shouted out the driver’s window as he backed the truck up and sped away. He was so intent on reaching his destination that he never saw Little John’s truck pulled off on a side road, with its headlights off.

  Clint Meacham was cursing and shouting at Amanda. He was causing so much ruckus that she never heard Little John Abbott’s silent approach behind her. She began kicking her legs wildly when she was swept up in an incredibly tight hold, and tried in vain to connect to her attacker’s family jewels.

  Little John held her securely in his left arm while he reached in his pocket for the handkerchief that he had soaked in chloroform before he left the truck. He had left the fight about thirty minutes after Clint, and followed him to the cabin. He had, instinctively, parked on the side road and soaked the handkerchief with the chloroform; he thought it might be useful if they needed to forcibly subdue the investigators. He was about to emerge from the thicket when he witnessed the dog he named Defiance knock Clint Meacham into the pit. He waited until Tyler drove off in Clint’s truck before making his move on the young woman who had embraced Tyler so fervently just minutes ago.

  Little John had been uneasy for several days about tonight’s fight. He had no real proof, but he had his own suspicions about what was about to happen on his ranch. He suspected that Tyler was in the middle of the whole bust and that the bust was going to happen tonight instead of a week from now. He was a realist, so he also knew that it was too late for him to stop the bust from happening, but once he saw the obvious connection between Tyler and the woman he had called “Amanda”, he decided he might be able to use her as a bartering tool, if need be. She might, also, prove to be a valuable avenue for his spiraling need for vengeance.

  Little John Abbott took a moment to look around at the darkness that surrounded him…at the land that had been in his family for four generations. Yes, the need for vengeance was growing rapidly, and he was determined that it would be his before the night was over. He threw Amanda’s limp body over his broad shoulders and carried her back to his truck. He would be well on his way out of Thomasville before Tyler Jones-Foster made it back to the burning pit.

  38. Tyler and Sam’s Tough Decision

  By ten o’clock the fights were progressing faster than usual; the longest fight had lasted thirty-seven minutes, while the shortest one had been over in less than three minutes. There were only three more fights to go before the grand finale between the dogs known as Defiance and Kong. Czar had initially been scheduled to fight against Kong, but Little John had decided to take his chances on the unknown fighting abilities of Defiance. He had created a false-win document outlining the recent wins of Defiance, stating that no opponent dog had lasted more than seven minutes in the ring with him. He knew the odds would be in favor of Defiance; however, he had no intentions of betting on his own dog. He had invested twenty-five thousand on Kong to win.

  Spartacus’ and Sam’s cages were sitting on the ground next to each other; dark covers had been placed over the cages to keep distraction to a minimum. Spartacus paced nervously inside his own cramped cage and cringed whenever the crowd roared with approval at the defeat of another doomed fighting dog.

  “Sam? I hate to admit it, but I’m scared to death of getting in that ring again. I can smell Czar’s aggression, and all I can say is that…I’m glad I don’t have to fight him again, but that dog from South Carolina may be just as bad…I heard that he’s a Corso, and they’re even meaner than pit bulls or mastiffs…Sam?”

  Spartacus could not see inside Sam’s cage, so he had no idea that Sam was not even inside it. He had no clue that Sam was currently dealing with the toughest decision of his mortal and eternal lives.

  After Sam had pushed Clint Meacham into the deep burning pit, he had looked longingly at his former mistress. He wanted to run to her…to protect her…but he knew that he had to honor his assignment to protect the animals fighting that night. It was vital that he be there when each animal took its last breath; if he wasn’t there with them, then he would not be able to bring them back to life later. Eight had already been killed for losing their fights, so he did not have the luxury of being held in Amanda’s warm embrace.

  Sam felt the moment of alarm within seconds of transporting himself back to the fighting arena. He knew, immediately, that Amanda was in trouble…that she needed his help. He sensed that Little John Abbott had his sweet Amand
a and that he intended to hurt her badly. His body remained in limbo for several moments while he deliberated his options. He could save Amanda, or he could save the lives of eleven of his comrades. He dropped his head and sighed before he transported himself back inside his cage. “I’m here, Spartacus…do not worry, my friend…everything will turn out the way God intends it to.”

  “But look at all of them, Sam…shot or beat to death with ball bats…dumped in a pile so they can be burned later…they didn’t deserve to die like that, Sam…no animal deserves to die that way…”

  The ninth fight was beginning; the odds were that it would not last any longer than the ones before it. Spartacus would be next to face his opponent, followed by Czar, and finally, the grand finale fight between Defiance and Kong.

  _____

  Tyler had spent precious minutes searching for any rope or cable he could use to haul Tim Breydan and Ross Taylor from the burning pit. Most of the rope had been taken to the fighting arena, but Tyler found enough of it, along with an old, rusted extended ladder and two large boards of heavy wood behind the Abbott’s horse barn. He hastily threw the rope, wood, and ladder into the bed of the truck. He looked at his watch and realized he had already been gone for almost thirty minutes. A shiver suddenly coursed through his body and he knew that he had to get back to the pit and make sure Amanda was alright. He sped down the long driveway and noticed a vehicle, in the distance, speeding south toward the main highway. His first thought was that it looked like Little John’s truck, but he couldn’t be sure…it was too far away, and…he felt certain that Little John was still at the arena, overseeing the fights.

  It took Tyler less than ten minutes to make the normal, 15-minute trip to the burning pit. He left the headlights facing the pit and jumped out of the truck. He looked in every direction for Amanda, but did not see her anywhere. He raced to the edge of the pit and looked down. The investigators had not moved; their bodies were in the same position they had been in earlier, and that worried Tyler to no end. Clint Meacham, on the other hand, had turned over on his back and grinned up at Tyler in wicked silence.

 

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