Fire From the Sky: Firestorm

by N. C. Reed

  He had taken two more dogs with four shots when the growl of an ATV reached him and he sighed with relief. Help was almost here. In that moment of relief, a large cur of unknown parentage that was closer than the rest and outside of Gordy's immediate vision lunged, hitting Gordy waist high from the side and knocking him to the ground, his rifle falling on his sling. As Gordy hit the ground the rifle was pinned beneath him as one hundred pounds of hungry, angry dog landed on top of the teen.

  Simple survival instinct kicked in as Gordy grabbed the dog by the neck and held snapping jaws off him. As strong as Gordy was, it was a near run thing as the huge dog fought like the beast it was to get Gordy's throat between its jaws. Struggling just to hold the dog at bay, Gordy only dimly heard rifle fire from Kade and Victoria as he fought to keep from being a victim. In danger of losing his grip on the short hair of the dog, Gordy let go with his right hand and grabbed the dog by the throat. Once he had established a good grip he pulled his left hand around to join his right, circling the large throat of the dog. Once his grip was assured he began to tighten it, squeezing as hard as he possibly could.

  It became a test of wills. A test to see which will gave out first. Gordy's grip or the canine's air.

  At first it looked as if the dog would win, struggling mightily not only to escape but still fighting to get Gordy into his jaws. Gordy continued to hold tight, knowing his life might well depend on it. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and taste the coppery tang of fear in his mouth as he fought to control the dog. He could feel the claws of the desperate animal scratching and tearing at him, his clothing stopping some of the assault but not all. His face fell victim to the dog’s front paws as his left cheek, his neck and his forehead felt the wrath of the infuriated beast. Some of the wounds were superficial, but a few were deep and bled heavily almost immediately.

  But Gordy persisted. His grip continued to tighten around the dog’s throat and after a minute of fierce resistance the fight began to leave the dog. Gaining the advantage Gordy turned himself and the dog, leveraging himself on top of the beast and adding his weight to his grip. He pulled the dog's head up and slammed it back into the ground beneath them, never relinquishing his grip on the dog’s throat. He did it again, hearing the dog yelp in pain for the first time. Or perhaps fear as the formerly aggressive animal realized it had tackled something that would fight back.

  Gordy slammed the dog into the ground a third time, and then a forth. Blood was running into his eyes as he repeated the motion for a fifth time, never noticing that the dog has ceased to struggle. He was pulling the dog from the ground again when Kade's voice broke through the rushing sound in his head.

  “-rdy! He's dead, man! Gordy that's enough, you got him!” Gordy felt a hand on his shoulder and instantly reached for it. Unable to see he gripped the arm and tried to pull it forward but Kade resisted.

  “Gordy, dammit, it's me!” Kade bellowed. “Stop that shit and let me see! You're bleeding like a stuck hog, man!” Slow recognition came to Gordy as he released his friend and sat still for a moment. He could see a vague shape of Kade through blood dimmed eyes as he looked up.

  “Sam safe?” he asked, unable to form more words for the moment.

  “Yeah, man,” Kade knelt beside him. “Her and Teri are back at the barn. Listen, you need to ease back, man. Vic's calling for Tandi right now,” he nodded toward his partner for the day. Gordy could hear her talking but couldn't see her.

  “Dogs all gone?” he asked Kade, breathing ragged.

  “Yes,” Kade assured him. “You got a bunch, we got most of the rest, what was left ran off. All done, brother.”

  “Good, that. . .that's good,” Gordy nodded, and then fell over on his side, unconscious.

  “Je-, Vic! Tell Tandi to hurry!” Kade yelled.

  –

  Patricia's worst moment came when the ATV came screeching into the vehicle bay with her son lying in back, strapped to a back board and covered in blood. Tandi was already working to stem the blood flow and Kaitlin immediately joined him as Kade and Victoria lifted the board from the back of the machine and carried Gordy toward the clinic.

  “He's lost some blood but I don't think it's as bad as it looks,” she heard Tandi telling Kaitlin. “He's got some deep lacerations on his face and neck and another couple on his stomach.”

  “What happened?” Patricia finally broke out of her stupor and moved to help.

  “Dog pack,” Kade told her, grunting with effort as he and Vicki hefted Gordy up onto the table. “One got to him and tackled him. Gordy killed him but the dog put up a fight.”

  “Was he bitten?” Patricia asked, looking for evidence of a bite wound.

  “No sign of a bite we could find,” Tandi and Vicki answered almost in unison. “This is all from claws while he was fighting the dog by hand.”

  “By hand?” Patricia looked up.

  “We’ll have to access out what happened later,” Tandi shook his head. “Right now, we have to get this bleeding under control and at least two lacerations are going to need stitches. Including one on his face.”

  Patricia looked and noticed that yes, a laceration on Gordy's cheek was much too deep for just a bandage. He was going to need stitches. Her baby as going to have scars from this. Even as she gathered the things she needed to treat her son she couldn't help but feel sad at that.

  “He's gonna be okay, Mrs. Sanders,” Kade's voice surprised her. “He's too strong to get beat by a cur dog.”

  “Thank you, Kaden,” Patricia smiled. “You two should go and get cleaned up,” she told him and Vicki, looking at their blood covered clothing. Clothing covered in her baby boy's blood.

  “Yes ma'am,” Kade nodded.

  “Another one here,” Kaitlin was saying. “I’ll clear away and you irrigate,” she told Tandi.

  “Okay,” the little medic nodded, already using a bottle of distilled water that was kept on hand for emergencies just like this one. “We’ll have to debride these carefully,” he added. “No telling what might have been on those claws, including cow manure. We can't afford to leave anything like that behind.”

  “Right,” Kaitlin agreed. “Let me clean away what I can, you come back and flush them with water, and then we’ll check behind each other as we removed dirt and debris.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” neither had stopped working as they devised their strategy. Kaitlin did spare a glance at Patricia.

  “Let us deal with this and when we're done you can stitch him up,” she said gently. “He’ll be good as new in no time.”

  “Okay,” Patricia nodded, needle and silk still in hand. She stood there motionless as her associates worked on her unconscious son, cleaning his wounds. Both were experienced professionals and actually had far more experience with this sort of thing than she did, so it made sense to let them continue. She watched for what seemed like an eternity but was closer to five minutes before Samantha Walters burst into the clinic, Teri Hartwell behind her and trying to stop Gawain from following Sam into the clinic.

  “Oh my God,” Samantha gave a subdued cry as she saw Gordy's unconscious form lying on the table with Kaitlin and Tandi working over him. She looked at Patricia, her face a mask of fear.

  “Is...is he. . .will he be. . .” the young woman struggled to make any sense and Patricia realized then that Samantha Walters had more than just a simple 'hero' crush on Gordy. It might have started that way, but it was far beyond that now.

  “It looks like he will okay, Sam,” Patricia hugged the smaller woman to her. “He has lost a lot of blood and he's going to need some stitches, but he should be okay. They're just trying to be careful and get any debris from the wounds before we close them up. It's the best way to fight infection.”

  “He made us run away,” Sam said quietly, her voice muffled as she hugged Patricia tightly. “We saw the dogs coming and he made us run away. We should have stayed!”

  “If you had, then all of you would look like this or worse, and your horse
s would likely be injured or dead and Gawain would have been ripped to pieces,” Patricia told her firmly. “While I wish he had joined you, it's likely the dogs would simply have run all of you down if he had. He did the right thing sending you away.”

  “That doesn't make it better,” Sam's bitter wail sounded much louder than it actually was.

  “No, baby, it doesn't,” Patricia agreed. “It never does.”

  –

  “So, tell me what happened exactly?” Clay looked at Teri Hartwell. She looked up from her seat outside the clinic, still watching over the rambunctious Gawain while Samantha stayed as near Gordy as she was allowed.

  “We were checking the cattle,” Teri answered. “You know we had been culling and dividing the herds, right?” Clay nodded.

  “We were far back into what Gordy calls Pasture Eight, checking over the cattle back there when some of them started moving in near panic. It was just a moment before the dogs burst out of the woods chasing the cattle.”

  “Any of them come after you?” Clay asked gently.

  “I don't think they saw us at first, but. . .when they did see us some of them broke off toward us, yeah. Maybe half. I don't know exactly how many, but a bunch. Gordy grabbed Gawain and slung him over Samantha's saddle, then handed me the reins to his horse and told us to run for the barn. Samantha wanted to argue but Gordy shut her down and we took off. I could hear him shooting behind us before we got far.”

  “Then we met the ATV with Vicki Tully and Kade Ramsey in it running for the pasture as fast as they could go. We heard a lot more shooting after that. It wasn't long until another ATV came running by with Tandi on it and I don't know who else. That. . .that's really all I know,” she shrugged helplessly.

  “That's fine,” he smiled at her. “It's not an interrogation, just me asking for information. Are you okay?”

  “I'm good,” she nodded. “We were never in danger that I know of, especially once we were gone. Gordy took care of it all.”

  “Good,” Clay nodded. “That's good. You take it easy, okay? This may hit you later and give you trouble, so if you need to talk come find me or maybe Beverly. She would probably be a better choice.”

  “Okay,” she nodded. “Thanks.” Clay nodded in reply and turned to find Kade and Vicki looking at him.

  “Report,” he said simply. He didn't bother to be as gentle with them, as it wasn't necessary.

  “Gordy killed at least six dogs with rifle fire, and then killed a frigging giant Mastiff mix with his damn bare hands,” Kade went first. “Choked him to death I think. You should have seen it,” he shook his head in awe.

  “Vic?” Clay looked at the female trooper.

  “We killed nine dogs confirmed but at least that many slipped away. We were torn between trying to get the rest and taking care of Gordy. We felt Gordy needed us worse and when he passed out we knew we were right. We stayed with him and tried to stabilize him until Tandi got there. Afterward we followed as they transported him here. There was no use in pursuit of the dogs at that point.”

  “Agreed,” Clay nodded. “You guys did good. Probably save Gordy's life or at least saved him from a serious injury. Good job.”

  “We should have been quicker,” Vicki shook her head. “We were just too far out of pocket when he called. Clear on the other side of the ranch.”

  “That happens,” Clay sympathized. “Not your fault, and it's no good to try and take the blame on yourself. I still run some things around here and I say you did good.” He softened his words with a grin and saw it being returned by the short little trooper.

  “You two up to heading back with some help and clearing the dead dogs away?” he asked. “Them being there will keep the cattle upset and may draw the others back. They will certainly draw vultures and smell bad.”

  “Sure,” Kade nodded.

  “Good to go,” Vicki said at the same time.

  “Outstanding,” said Clay. “We’ll get you some help, and Gor-,” he stopped, realizing he was about to order Gordy to get the backhoe. “I’ll have someone head out there with the backhoe and dig a hole on the far side of the ranch. Toss the dogs in there and cover them over. And be watchful. No telling how many more packs are out there.”

  “Will do.”

  –

  “He took twelve stitches to his cheek and another eleven to his neck,” Tandi informed Clay once they were finished treating the younger man. “He's tough.”

  “Always has been,” Clay nodded. “Okay to go inside?”

  “If you can get to him,” Tandi smirked. “I'm going to go clean up. Patricia and the Walters girl are still in there, along with Kait.” The medic departed as Clay walked into the small clinic area.

  “Well you look like something the dog dragged up, Gordy,” he joked as he got a look at his nephew.

  “Clay, that's not funn-” Patricia began hotly, but was cut off as her son bellowed in laughter.

  “I have to remember that one,” Gordy exchanged high-fives with his uncle. “And I imagine I do look like sh-…er, crap,” he cast a glance at his mother as he caught himself.

  “No, it's more like shit,” Clay laughed. “You did good, Gordy,” Clay turned more serious. “Killed at least a half-dozen wild dogs not counting the one you killed by hand. Vic and Kade got about half the rest and the others ran away. We didn't lose any cows and you got Sam and Teri away safely. A good day’s work in any book. Tandi even called you 'tough'. High praise coming from him,” Clay chuckled.

  “It's still not funny,” Patricia fumed. “I don't want you doing that kind of thing anymore,” she said, looking at her son and then glaring at her brother-in-law. “It's too dangerous.”

  “Mom,” Gordy spoke before Clay could, “it is what it is. And you can forget the 'not doing that anymore' routine before it gets off the ground good. It has to be done and I'm far better suited to it than the majority of the people here. And if you think this is the last time we see wild dogs then you're dreaming. I was already out hunting whatever was killing our cattle just a few nights ago. Had they come on me then I would have been alone and might not have gotten off so light. And we can't stop working cattle just because of this,” he waved to his face and neck. “So, spare me, okay? Not going to happen. No,” he changed his mind, “it can't happen. We all have to pull whatever weight we can around here.”

  “Clay can find you something else to do,” Patricia insisted. “I won't have this.”

  “It's not your choice, mom,” Gordy said calmly. “I appreciate you're worried about me, I really do, but this is how it is. We're here to stay and I'm not going to lay around where it's safe just so you can feel better. Besides, I like what I'm doing. I'd prefer fewer stitches next time, mind you,” he grinned to try and take the sting from his words, “but I'm still not going to 'find something else' as you put it. So, stop. And it wasn't Clay's fault since we chose to go out looking over the cattle. That's part of our job taking care of the herd. Simple as that.”

  Patricia wanted to argue and looked as if she were going to but finally ceded the argument to her son, realizing she wasn't getting anywhere. She looked to Samantha for help but found none there.

  “Next time I'm not leaving,” she told him, voice laced with a combination of anger and worry.

  “Oh, yes you are,” he told her flatly. “You took the horses and the pup away, probably saved them all, not to mention yourselves. Had you stayed around then I'd have been too worried about you to do my job.”

  “I'm not having this discussion,” Samantha told him, her voice tight.

  “It's not a discussion,” Gordy surprised her and his mother as well. “Next time, if there is one, will be just like this one. The longer you stand there and argue the less time I have to shoot. Your hunting rifle wouldn't be any good in a situation like that, Sam. If you think about it, you'd know I'm right.”

  “I'm not discussing this,” Samantha repeated.

  “Good,” Gordy wasn't yielding. “I'm too tired to deal with
it. Can I go home now?” he asked his mother.

  “Yes, so long as you take it easy,” she relented for the present. “Don't strain too much or the stitches might tear lose. That would leave an even bigger scar then you're going to have already.”

  “Chicks dig scars,” Gordy quipped as he got to his feet. His clothing was shredded where it had been torn by the dog and then cut by Tandi Maseo to check him for wounds.

  “Well these are shot,” he looked at his pants.

  “We’ll get you some more,” Clay was grinning. “There's a golf cart outside. Sam, why don't you take him home and make sure he gets inside okay. He obviously needs supervision.”

  “Oh, aren't you funny,” Gordy sneered. “But yeah, a ride home would be awesome.”

  “Then come on,” a borderline angry Samantha told him. “If you're nice I might even fix you something to eat.”

  “I'm always nice!”

  “Clayton, I was serious,” Patricia said once the two young people were out the door. “I don't want him doing this anymore.”

  “Then what do you suggest, Patricia?” Clay asked her calmly. “What would you have him do?”

  “Anything but what he's doing,” Patricia insisted.

  “Be specific,” Clay shook his head. “Pick a job you'd rather he be doing.”

  “It's not my responsibility to assign jobs to people,” she shot back.

  “That's right, it's not,” Clay slammed the trap closed quickly, granting her argument an early death. “It's mine. More specifically of late it's Leon's. Gordy stays where he is, for two very good reasons. First, he's good at it. One day he will have to take my place so he needs to be ready for it. Second, he wants to do it. He's not afraid to do what he has to to protect this farm or his family. There are precious few people on this farm who can fight to keep it safe and keep it in our hands and Gordy is worth any two of the others. He's tough, smart and dependable. Because of him, the others are dependable. Without him they would doubtless be stumbling over one another. They're not bad kids, they just aren't in Gordy's league.”