Four-Footed Angels

by J. T. Livingston

  Tyler spun around and stared into the darkness that surrounded him. The cabin door was still open and he rushed toward it. “AMANDA!” he yelled. She was not inside the cabin. He ran around to the back of the cabin and yelled into the woods. “AMANDA! WHERE ARE YOU!” He listened to the black calm that surrounded the cabin. No sounds came from the woods…no rustling leaves…no scurrying animals…nothing. He ran back to the front of the cabin and looked in every direction. The only sound he heard was the distant cheering coming from the fighting arena. Panic flooded his handsome face. He rushed back to the burning pit.

  The pain in his back was searing and he couldn’t feel his legs, but Clint managed to push himself up to a sitting position, and spat a wad of tobacco into the moistened lime. “She ain’t here, asshole,” he laughed bitterly and spat again. “Boss man done took her away…pretty little thing, but you can bet she won’t be that way after he gets through with her.”

  “Damn it!” Tyler hissed. “Damn it…” Tyler, like Sam had experienced earlier, now faced a tormented dilemma. He could jump in the truck and head south, hoping he could catch up with Abbott; or, he could climb into the pit and rescue the two investigators, who could already be dead for all he knew. “Where did he take her…did you kill them?” Tyler demanded, pointing to Tim and Ross.

  Clint’s tobacco-stained grin smiled up at Tyler through the darkness. He spat another wad of juice and said. “Ain’t got no idea where he took that pretty little thing…wouldn’t tell you if I did know…as for them…why don’t you come on down and see for yourself, pretty boy? You don’t have to worry about me none…I can’t hurt you right now…can’t seem to move my damn legs…” The smell from the decomposing animals was so overpowering that Clint couldn’t finish his challenge to Tyler. He began coughing and gagging. “You gotta get me outta here, too…you can’t leave me here…”

  Tyler threw his cap on the ground and ran both hands over and around his head. He was so torn on what to do, on who to help first. He closed his eyes and offered a quick prayer to the God that had saved him so many times in the past. “Please let me make the right decision, Lord…”

  In less than a minute, Tyler’s decision was made. He tried to call 911 to tell them about Amanda and the two investigators but his cell phone’s reception was out of range. He couldn’t risk jeopardizing the sting by reaching out to the detectives and investigators at the fight, and the local police were in Abbott’s back pocket, so they would be of no help to him now. He rushed back to Clint’s truck and grabbed the ladder, ropes, board, and the gun that Meacham had dropped earlier when Sam pushed him into the pit. He ran around to the opposite side of the pit, as far away from Clint Meacham as he could get, and lowered the twenty-foot ladder into the pit; the men were fifteen feet deep inside the pit. He tucked the gun inside the back of his jeans and began his descent. The smell of rot and decay made his eyes and sinuses burn, so he pulled a bandana from his back pocket and wrapped it around his head, covering his nose as much as possible. It wasn’t much, but it helped some.

  Tyler jumped off the ladder when he was within two feet of where the investigators lay. His feet sunk into mushy skin and fur; he felt bones breaking beneath his weight. He felt his stomach lurch and thought he was going to lose it, but somehow managed to squelch the vomiting reflex.

  He looked quickly in the direction where Clint Meacham still sat upright, about fifteen feet away from Tim and Ross. “Too bad that dog didn’t kill you…” he said.

  Clint tried to move but the pain in his back was too severe. He wasn’t going anywhere without Tyler’s help, and, he was suddenly concerned that he might not receive that help. “You can’t leave me here, you know…you gotta help get me out, too. They’re probably dead by now, anyway, so don’t waste your time with them…I know where Little John keeps his stash…there’s enough money in his safe for the two of us…get me out of here and I’ll disappear and you can…”

  Tyler glared at the man he had been forced to take orders from for months now. “SHUT UP! Trust me, Meacham…you are the least of my concerns right now. A low mumble beside him drew him back to the task at hand. Tyler jumped when a hand reached out and grabbed his ankle. The hand belonged to the younger of the two investigators, Ross Taylor.

  Ross had landed on his stomach when he had been pushed into the pit. He squeezed Tyler’s ankle and wheezed, “Get Tim…he’s been shot…gotta get him help…quick…”

  Tyler bent lower and squeezed Ross’ hand. “I tried calling 911, buddy, but I’m not getting any reception in these woods. I’m getting you both out of here and taking you to the ER myself. Just hang on, okay? You’re going to make it…”

  “Get…Tim…first…” Ross mumbled before his head fell forward and he lost consciousness once again.

  Tyler searched for a pulse on the older man and exhaled gratefully when he found one; it was extremely slow and weak, but it was there. He rolled Tim Breydan onto one of the narrow boards and secured him to it with the ropes. He exhaled deeply again and looked upward into the star-lit sky. “Okay, Lord…you provided the means…now, please…give me the physical strength to get these men out of here…” He took a deep breath and began a slow, backward ascent up the ladder, dragging the man secured to the board behind him. It didn’t take as long as he thought it would, but by the time Tyler had placed both investigators in the truck bed, twenty-five, precious minutes had already sped by.

  The last thing he heard as he sped away was the frantic screams from Clint Meacham. Tyler was at the ER thirty minutes later before he realized he had left the ladder inside the pit.

  39. Spartacus Fights Again

  “What do you want me to do with him, Boss?” the handler of the losing dog from the ninth fight asked the owner.

  The owner’s bloodshot eyes glared at the white pit bull’s mangled face and legs. “He’s worthless now. Chain him to the back of the truck. If he survives the ride home, use him as bait tomorrow for his replacement. If he doesn’t…dump him in the woods and let the buzzards eat him. Damn loser just cost me fifteen grand.”

  The dog used his one remaining eye to look pleadingly at his owner. He whimpered and tried to move toward him, but the owner’s swift kick to his back side sent his legs collapsing beneath him. He whimpered again when the handler dragged him by a chain toward the area where the owners had parked their vehicles.

  Sam growled when the handler tugged hard at the dog’s chain, and didn’t back away when the man kicked at his cage.

  The handler spit on the ground at Sam’s cage and hissed. “You had better win your fight…I’ve got a month’s salary bet on you…” He continued to drag the whimpering dog to a dusty, old F-150 and secured him to the trailer hitch.

  Sam closed his eyes when the white pit whimpered its last breath.

  Spartacus had watched quietly while the dog had been dragged away. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  Sam paced inside his cage. His nostrils flared widely and his eyes glowed their brilliant gold. “Yes…for now...”

  “I’m going to die, too, aren’t I, Sam…that’s okay…you don’t have to answer. I know that’s why I had to come back. I have to die so that others might live…so that others won’t have to live their lives in fear, day after day…will it hurt, Sam?”

  Sam stopped his pacing and moved to the side of his cage, to be as close to Spartacus as he could get. “I told you, Spartacus…you are not going to die…none of them are…not tonight…”

  “Well, in case you haven’t been paying attention, good buddy…” Spartacus tried to sound flippant, but his fear was more than evident. “Nine of our partners in crime have already died. Don’t you angels have something like the five-second rule? Like…don’t you have to save them within seconds of their dying in order to bring them back?”

  Sam was only half-listening to Spartacus and his concerns. He was still torn on helping his sweet Amanda and doing what he had been assigned to do. He had sensed Amanda’s initial fear, but for the last ha
lf hour or so, he had not been able to sense her presence at all, and that worried him more than he cared to admit.

  “Hey, Sam…you listening to me?” Spartacus whispered. “Oh, no…they’re announcing the next fight…that’s me, Sam…Sam? Please tell me you’re still there…”

  Sam listened to the announcements to place bets on fight number ten between Little John Abbott’s former champion fighter, Spartacus, and the three-time winner, Lucifer, a liver-brown Corso from Greenville, South Carolina.

  “Oh, that’s just great…” Spartacus sighed. “His name would have to be Lucifer…”

  “Whatever happens, Spartacus…just go with it and know that I am close by…I will not let anything happen to you…or to the others…they will not die tonight…”

  “Okay, then…” Spartacus conceded. “That’s all I needed to know…well…here goes nothing…”

  Spartacus jumped back when his cage door opened, and, in spite of his newfound confidence, his bladder failed him.

  “They’re not expecting you to win, Spartacus,” Sam whispered as Spartacus was literally dragged from his cage by his handler. “The odds are against you…trust me, my friend…a lot of people are going to lose a lot of money on your fight…”

  Spartacus’ fight was over before it ever really began. For some strange reason, the former fearless Corso known as Lucifer, turned away from Spartacus, time and time again. The dogs were returned to their scratch positions three times; each time, Lucifer turned away and would not engage in fight. His owner was speechless, and could not explain why his formidable champion fighter seemed to cower in fear. The referee called the fight after Lucifer’s third turn, and Spartacus was declared the winner.

  Spartacus held his head up high as he was led back to his cage. The booing jeers from the unhappy crowd did nothing to dampen his renewed spirit. He winked at Sam before he entered his cage. “Well…that was easy enough!”

  Sam grinned at his new friend. Spartacus’ win, by default, was not the way that fight was supposed to go down. There might be consequences to pay for Sam’s part in changing the outcome of that fight; but, it was imperative that the fights be speeded up so that he could get to Amanda. He could feel the distance growing between them with each passing moment. He could no longer sense her essence and that worried him. He continued pacing his cage throughout the next fight between Czar and his worthy opponent. The two dogs were evenly matched and, for some unexplainable reason, Sam was not able to speed up that fight. It lasted for thirty-three minutes, with Czar finally being declared the winner.

  Spartacus heard the approaching footsteps. “They’re coming for you, Sam…”

  “I wish they would get a move on it…” Sam growled. “I need to help the dogs that lost their fights…there is a six-hour time limit on their resurrection…that first one died almost five hours ago.”

  “What do you mean…there’s a time limit on how long a dog can be dead before you can bring it back to life?” Spartacus squealed. “You didn’t tell me there was a time limit! I was just kidding about that five-second rule! I mean…you’re an angel dog…I thought you could do anything!”

  “We do have our limitations, Spartacus. The angels at the café cannot interfere with a mortal’s destiny…at all…and they are not allowed to resurrect any human life. I, on the other hand, and only by the authority of God Himself, have the limited ability to resurrect the dogs involved with this assignment…but, yes, a time limit has been established…no more than six hours can lapse from the time of death to the time of resurrection. I would have done it already, but there are far too many people here…”

  “You mean…too many non-believers, don’t you?” Spartacus asked. “Wouldn’t God see the resurrection of those animals as a way to turn them all into believers?”

  “I suppose that is possible, Spartacus…but…it is not my place to question His intentions. He gave me my instructions before I came down…as well as my limitations. I’ve already interfered with destiny when I pushed Clint Meacham into the burning pit…”

  “Well, hot damn!” Spartacus cheered. “You didn’t tell me you did that!”

  “You don’t understand, my friend…it was not my place to interfere with that encounter. When I interfered, it may have changed destiny’s intended course for all those involved…I’m not sure how things will turn out now because of my actions. Amanda may not have been kidnapped had I not interfered…”

  “What! Amanda’s been taken? Who took her? Where did they go? I’ll help you get her back!”

  “Be ready to move quickly, Spartacus…we won’t have much time…”

  The door to Sam’s cage was jerked open and a wire loop hooked around his neck. He was growling and snarling when he was pulled out into the open. The crowd went wild with enthusiasm when Sam showed his long fangs to their best advantage. The betting began as Sam and Kong were weighed and received their mandatory baths from the opposing handler.

  Sam’s black fur glistened under the bright lights. His dark eyes were alert as he bared his teeth to the crowd when he was led to his corner. He saw the many streaks of blood that soaked the canvas flooring and his body grew stiff and rigid with anger. His handler turned him away to face the corner of the ring.

  Cheering rang out again when the handler of the red pit-bull from North Carolina was practically dragged into the ring by his dog. He turned Kong to face the opposing corner. The crowd quieted and the announcer proclaimed the history of each fighting dog. He paused for a moment before finally yelling out, “FACE YOUR DOGS!”

  Kong immediately lunged forward, snarling and eager for the fight to begin, and had to be dragged behind the scratch line.

  Sam stood stoically between his handler’s legs. His eyes never left those of the red pit-bull. “Forgive me for what I must do…”

  Kong paused and blinked. He stared at his opponent and saw Sam’s eyes change from brown-black to a soft golden hue. He didn’t have time to ponder what that might mean before the referee yelled, “LET’S GO!” He lunged at Sam quickly the moment his handler released him. His mouth opened wide and he aimed for the throat. He never saw it coming, but the next thing he felt was an immense pressure to his head when Sam head-butted him, and he was thrown half-way across the ring.

  The crowd cheered when Kong quickly regained his balance and lunged at his opponent once again. He made contact with Sam’s throat this time and the crowd went crazy when Sam yelped and went down. The crowd expected to see a lot of blood as Kong stood over Sam and shook him from side to side, tearing at his throat. They began to boo when no blood ever appeared.

  The crowd’s booing ceased abruptly when Sam suddenly stood up with Kong’s massive jaws still attached to his throat. They watched in awe as the huge, black pit-mix walked slowly in a circle, dragging the red pit bull along with him. They began to cheer again when Sam swiftly swung his head in a downward motion, causing Kong to release his hold on Sam’s throat; two of Kong’s teeth flew out of his mouth when he was slammed hard against the canvass-covered ground.

  Sam knew that time was of the essence. He had to resurrect the animals that had lost their fights before he could begin his search for Amanda. He stood over Kong and uttered a low growl. The crowd could not see the changing color of his eyes, but he knew that Kong saw it and finally recognized Sam for what he truly was. “I promise…this will not hurt…” Sam assured his opponent just before he grabbed Kong’s throat between his own sharp teeth. It only took one quick shake for Sam to break the champion fighter’s neck.

  The formerly cheering crowd was stunned into silence. There was no more cheering because they were all in shock at what had just happened during the final fight of the night. The referee was speechless, too; he had never seen the neck of a dog Kong’s size snapped like it was a twig. The handlers of both dogs were dumbfounded, and neither made a move toward their respective dogs.

  Sam backed away slowly from Kong’s body and looked around slowly at everyone in attendance. His eyes sti
ll glowed golden, and a similar hue now engulfed his entire body as he moved slowly around the ring. He was mesmerizing the crowd into a semi-conscious state that was similar to hypnotism. The crowd could still see but they could not move, and only those who were true Christians would ever remember what they had just witnessed…and what they were about to witness. Sam suspected there might be a handful of people in attendance who fell into that category; most of the believers were part of the law enforcement and animal protection group who had immersed themselves into the crowd of spectators.

  “Whoa…” Spartacus mumbled as he watched the clip from his cage door slide sideways. He pushed against it and moved slowly among the dazed crowd. He made his way toward the ring where Sam was still walking around it in a slow circle. “Whoa…what have you done to them, Sam? Did you hypnotize them or something?”

  “Something like that, my friend…” Sam sighed. “We have to move quickly. I need your help. I need you to push the pile of dogs off one another…I need them lying side-by-side…quickly, Spartacus!” Sam moved first to Kong and lay down beside the massive red pit bull until their heads, shoulders, and hips lined up together. Sam closed his eyes and the golden hue from his body began to spread outward until it covered Kong’s body. In a matter of seconds, Kong gasped and tried to stand. “Easy…” Sam instructed him. “Easy, now…okay…once you feel strong enough, I need you to stand and move into the wood line…over there…there will be some nice officers coming to get all of you and take you to safety. You will instruct the others of this and wait for the officers to find you…do you understand?”

  Sam stood up when Kong’s eyes began to clear and he regained the strength to stand. Kong’s legs still felt a bit wobbly, but he looked into Sam’s golden eyes and said, “Yes…yes, I understand. Don’t worry…I will lead them all to safety until the officers find us. I…I don’t know what just happened, but…thank you…”