“Good, Jen. You’re the best director we’ve had in years. Callous, don’t ask too many questions. Keep it that way.” He turned and headed out the door.
Jenny walked into the busy hall searching for her security chief. She pestered every guard she bumped into until someone directed Jenny to the bio lab.
With a steady gait she reached the lab. She found Captain Charles Reynolds huddled with a group of scientists near a table strewn with vials. He looked up as Jenny neared him.
“Captain, let's have a chat.” She canted her head, and the two moved to a place less crowded. “Do me a favor?”
Captain Reynolds rested his lineman bulk against a wall. He regarded Jenny with a cool gaze. “What, Doc?”
Jenny snagged the exasperated tone in his voice. “Catch the dogs.”
“The ones you guys were experimenting with, the super smart dogs?”
Jenny nodded. “I'm asking you to find them. You’ll get paid an incentive, including off site pay.”
Captain Reynolds rubbed his chin with thick fingers. “I never liked those animals, Doc.”
Jenny exercised her patience. She still believed Moraine the smartest one from the entire bunch, but Robert fired her. “I don't need your opinion.”
Captain Reynolds glanced behind him at the bio lab. A tan uniformed guard minus the brass on his collars checked security cards. “I'll do the job. But I'm taking three others with me.”
“Sounds acceptable,” Jenny said. “We'll survive without four guards until your return.”
“When do we start?”
“Now. The dogs attacked a subdivision close to here.”
“I'm requesting heavy firepower then. And, a tranquilizer gun.”
Jenny fished around in her white lab coat and pulled out a notepad and pen. She scribbled numbers on the pad and passed the sheet to Captain Reynolds. “Codes to the armory.”
“I have that.”
Jenny grinned. “The bigger armory next to yours.”
Captain Reynolds lifted his eyebrows. “I’ll complete the task by the end of the week, Doc.”
Jenny remained silent. Reynolds needed to meet the pair in person. “Can you?”
“I served ten years in the Army, Doc. I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay, stay in contact with me. I want the dogs back, unharmed if possible.”
Captain Reynolds smirked and swaggered away. “They won’t lose a hair, Doc.”
Jenny watched him go. Her once strained thoughts, freshened and recharged, concentrated on tidying the Labs.
13
Moraine and her three charges abandoned the Happy Sun condominium complex in pursuit of Black and White. She found this not too difficult, for the animals dumped dung in massive clumps wherever they traveled.
The hunters rushed by distraught crowds escaping San Francisco and other northern cities. The earthquake refugees stared at the group. Most zeroed in on the rifle totting momma pushing a stroller occupied with a smiling toddler.
The trio bypassed cracks and fissures ten feet deep. Gas and oil pumped out caustic fumes accompanied by the brown slush of sewage. Contaminated water flooded the roadways from broken pipes. Looters burned stores, fires blazed in the distance. She avoided the more populated areas, keeping to the silent nature trails in their journey south.
Five miles in, Casey's diaper needed changing. Erik performed his daddy duty with Casey as Moraine stood watch. She scanned the distant fields and hills in the east. Warm air poured in from the west, bending the dried grass. Her skin tingled. She sensed feral gazes on her. But no figures flitted through the overgrown foliage.
An hour sauntered by before they arrived a quarter mile from the desolate subdivision. They stopped at an oak tree overlooking a sprawled cookie-cutter community. A tremendous heap of dog poo steamed twenty yards off their path, sweltering from the noon heat.
Robert shrugged off his heavy pack. “Wow, what a stink.”
“When do you think they departed?” Moraine dropped her bag.
“I don't know.”
“We should search the neighborhood for clues?”
“I need to take fifteen, Moraine.”
Moraine frowned. “Your science projects are killing people and you want to sit on your ass?”
“This hiking stuff is overwhelming.”
“You rest and work on your tan. I’ll check things out. Meet me at the subdivision after you're done.” She joined her family camped besides the lone oak.
Erik looked up at Moraine. He held a spoon loaded with green pudding and a baby food jar. “Feeding time. What’s next?”
“I'm going to the subdivision, Erik. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”
“Ok, where’s your pal?”
“Popping the blisters on his toes. Those dogs are smarter than I thought.”
Erik wrinkled his nose as the feces funk carried over by a soft breeze. “They’re organized at least.”
Moraine wanted to block her ability to smell. “The shotgun is ready to use. If trouble happens, leave the bags and run. I'll find you.”
Erik nodded. “Be careful, baby.”
“Be careful, baby,” Casey parroted. She giggled while smashing pureed peas across her cheek.
Moraine managed a smile and headed for the subdivision, raking in everything stretching to the horizon. She prayed the dogs fled town, hoped the canines didn’t hide in the brush watching their human lunch taking a break.
As she neared the homes, she lifted a hand at a pair of uniformed men standing near their patrol cars.
Abysmal retching reached her ears, a terrible choir singing an old familiar tune. She slowed her pace, the erect cop saw her, glanced at her rifle. When he realized she posed no threat, he relaxed.
“Hi, Can I go into the subdivision? My aunt is two blocks straight ahead.”
“Be my guest.” He pointed and returned to attending his friend.
Moraine braced herself against whatever sickened the others. She slid her right forefinger over her rifle trigger and grasped the under barrel grip. She nosed up the barrel and began a probing walk forward. The stench assaulted her nostrils with a burnt flesh and iron fume. Her stomach flip-flopped as she fought to keep her breakfast in her gut. Each step drew her closer to a high wooden fence. She passed the fence and worked her way onto an open avenue.
Blood and gore splashed the world. Her knees trembled. Her mind retreated to when her moment of laps costed lives. A chill danced along her arms. But no bomb did this. Black and White’s handy work unnerved her.
Up the street to her left sat a news van, a female reporter operated a video camera, panning over remnants of the attack.
Moraine forced herself onto the street lined with humming generators. Hot spotlights transformed the blood and flesh stuck to the macadam into a horrid crust.
Moraine reminded herself how light the scene played out compared to what she faced in Afghanistan. But here sat the problem, she no longer patrolled an Afghanistan dusty village and sun scorched earth. She roamed California’s fertile lands and streets virgin to war.
She struggled with the rising sickness and pressed on to her destination. She stepped off the curb, landing onto hardened blood. The crusted liquid broke with a gentle crunch beneath her weight, reminding her of the carapace of a Crème Brule. Her belly protested, and she forced the sick lurch away.
Here and there lay pieces associated with humanity. Hands, a leg, foot, hair in different shades patched the ground. Her heart picked up its beat. With every breath, anger towards Robert and the other scientists mounted.
What happened to her neighbors became an unforgivable tragedy. Here she confronted another slaughter. Chunks of bodies, splattered remains filled her view from corner to corner.
She walked until reaching a grill stacked with charred meat. The aroma swooned her head with its formidable power. Her eyes caught a gleam near a sewer grate.
Moraine approached the metallic glitter, discovering numerous dogs piled upon
each other. The metal reflections came from their tags. She bent low, inspecting the dead canines to discover them laced with bullet holes. Several suffered blows to their heads. She discovered a blood-coated shovel nearby.
“That’s a crime scene you’re stepping on.”
Moraine turned to the rattled voice. She gazed at the policeman she met earlier on the sidewalk, his cheeks bloodless. “Where’s the yellow tape?”
The officer twisted his lips. “Who are you?”
Moraine shifted from the gruesome pile and retrieved her Livermore Labs security card, an object as worthless as Casey’s Barbie doll credit card. “I’m Investigator Baxter.”
He grabbed the guard card. “Livermore Labs.”
“Did anyone survive this?” Moraine plucked her ID from his grasp and placed the plastic square into her shirt pocket.
“You said your family lived on this street.”
“I lied. The Labs sent me to investigate. And, my presence here is confidential.”
“Well, this ain’t no secret. The Labs sent you? Alone?”
“A scientist is waiting for my report.”
“One survivor. Paramedics drove him to the hospital. How am I supposed to secure this?”
Moraine read the name-tag on his chest. “Officer Larta?”
“Yea?”
“Where are you superiors?”
Officer Larta grunted. “With their families. Too much rioting, not enough help. It’s everybody for themselves.”
Moraine smelled newness on the officer. He should be home, but a senior prick ordered him to protect the crime scene. “What did the survivor say?”
“Hundreds of dogs attacked them.”
Moraine surveyed the surrounding carnage, capturing mental pictures for later reference. Afterwards she made for the hill.
“What is your job now?”
“To look for the dogs, Larta.”
“They’re gone.”
“Yea, I see.”
“They took the children.”
Moraine paused. “What?”
“The dogs took the children.”
14
Moraine kept Larta’s words in her memory as she returned to their camp. A new urgency percolated in her heart after discovering innocents thrown into the fray.
Black and White’s move revealed the dogs capacity to think deeper than what she thought possible.
Upon reaching the oak tree, she discovered Casey asleep, snuggling her pink bunny. Erik stayed vigilant with shotgun nearby. Robert snoozed in the oak’s cool shade.
Erik gave Moraine an opened can of Pork and Beans and bottled water. “Eat.”
Moraine sat on the grass. “Those dogs are dangerous.”
Erik scooted next to his wife. “I’m okay with you going after them.”
Moraine leaned her head against Erik’s. “Alone, yes. The dogs had a feast.”
Erik turned to her. “Ate them?”
“So much blood, ripped flesh, and patches of hair. Death everywhere.”
“What did the cops say?”
Moraine moaned low in her throat.
“What do you mean?”
Moraine studied Erik’s narrow nose. She loved his fat lower lip. “They snatched the neighborhood children.”
Erik stared at the sleeping Casey. “Why did they take children?”
Moraine frowned. She knew why they killed. Someone programed them to kill. But taking kids added an extra evil to their existence.
“We're wasting time.” Moraine sipped water. Her mind filled with scenes threatening to haunt her for life.
Erik got up and stretched. He walked to Robert, nudged him awake with his foot. The scientist grunted, rose to a half sit.
Moraine scooped Casey in her arms as if lifting a sack of eggs. She placed her into the hiking stroller. A sturdy item with knobby wheels and a titanium frame, a stroller meant for rugged terrain. Casey hugged her pink bunny tighter. Saliva glistened on her chin from the sun as Moraine strapped her inside the seat.
Robert rolled and stuffed his blanket into a pack. “What did you find?”
Moraine delivered Robert an inimical stare. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you?”
Robert lips parted, his eyes shifted back and forth. Sunlight winked against his glasses. “There’re several reasons. For one, it’s considered murder.” His voice trembled as he spoke, averting Moraine’s hard gaze.
Moraine pointed at the subdivision. “The cops are working on a skeleton crew. California is teetering on Tombstone justice. You will not be the only person murdered today.”
“I can help look for the dogs.”
“I'm able to do that myself. They leave a big enough shit trail.”
“What are you expecting from me, Moraine?”
Moraine marched over to Robert and shoved him. He stumbled backwards and sprawled to the ground. “The dogs killed every adult in town, and took children.”
Erik lifted his hands. “Baby.”
Moraine pulled her Glock. She knelt, placing the barrel against Robert’s skull.
Robert raised his right hand. “I told you, I didn’t reprogram them.”
Moraine sensed red hate flow through her. She wanted to destroy whoever ran the program. Starting with Robert. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
“Moraine, please. You need to believe me on this.”
“You fired me. I don’t trust you.”
Erik grabbed Moraine’s scarred gun hand and lowered the weapon. “Baby, easy.”
Moraine holstered the pistol. Sweat streaked the man’s brown face. “Get on your feet.”
Robert stood. Slow. He dusted off his pants while eyeing Moraine. “You can’t blame me for this. I tried stopping them, Moraine.”
She hefted her seventy-pound bag and hung the rifle from its sling. Erik shrugged on his ruck and grabbed the stroller loaded with a snoring Casey. The three descended the hill in silence until they arrived at the subdivision.
Moraine spotted the same cops sitting on their patrol car hood. “You two go home. Protect your families.”
Officer Larta glanced at his partner. “My lieutenant ordered us to secure the site.”
Robert ambled off to the blood soaked scene. Afterward, an inarticulate cry went up from the subdivision.
“Don’t stay too long. If your bosses haven’t called you, exercise some common sense.”
Robert emerged from the street, his gait sloppy. Tears glinted his eyelashes. “I didn’t realize, Moraine.”
“Well now you do,” Moraine said.
Robert doubled over and vomited. He retched until he could retch no more. When he straightened Moraine offered him a water bottle.
“Thank you.” He accepted the water and emptied the container in a deep swig. “I’m ready.”
Moraine nodded. “Okay.”
Erik pushed the stroller, whistling a tune of Old Susana.
Moraine sent the officers a parting glance and headed south in pursuit of Black and White.
15
Akiko Drummond staggered on with the other captured children. They ambled along with bowed heads, faces smeared with tears, dirt, and blood. Her calves burned from dog-inflicted scratches and nips and her feet throbbed with pain.
She thought the miniature dogs cute upon their arrival. When they raced into town yelping and playing, everyone considered the dogs a wonderful surprise. Once the bigger ones came from the darkness, her world changed. Her mother, father, and older brother died fighting the four-legged attackers.
No time in her fifteen years of life did she experience so much fear or violence. When Jerry Hernandez, her sometime boyfriend, got torn apart by two huge and furry dogs, she peed her pants. He sacrificed himself attempting to save her family.
Next, dogs corralled them. They bit legs, grabbed arms with sharp teeth. They forced the more stubborn children to the bawling bunch of kids. Five boys attempted to flee, yet didn't succeed. A pit bull team hauled them back by their clothes or hair, or an a
ppendage. The children, rounded up into a big, crying, bloody mass, surrendered. Then the feeding began.
Akiko closed her eyes once the pack fed on parents and neighbors. Sounds rose, wet and smacking. Crunches punctuated the air as bones cracked.
Two men, one swinging a shovel and the other waiving a gun, rushed onto Culbert Street crowded with strays. The shovel guy tried saving them until the dogs killed him too. Then, the man with the gun fled after his friend died. His pursuers caught him and sent his voice into a high octave beyond any mortal ability.
She counted thirty children in the group. The dogs picked the frail and young. A teenage boy, over two hundred pounds, and six-feet tall, set the dogs on edge and they mauled him to death.
Akiko studied her surroundings. The land went from flat and dry to green. They trekked over a dusty trail headed into the dense woods. German shepherds surrounded them, growling or nipping at those who strayed.
She never encountered dogs this smart. Her Rottweiler Duke passed a year ago. He entertained her with fetch and roll over, or simple minded looks. This batch comprehended on their own. They barked and yelped at each other as in conversation.
The leaders, one black and the other white, appeared lofty as they padded onward. A contingent of lapdogs traveled before the entire company, sniffing and skirting in and out the pines and oaks.
Behind the collies trailed seven dogs of various breeds. Pit bull, Chihuahua, Golden Retriever, German shepherd,Doberman, Rottweiler, and a tiny dog with a pink collar.
She loved dogs and collected dog figurines at home. Her friends found her hobby crazy. She cried again as she remembered her dead family.
A few children soiled themselves. Sour human and dog odors clashed, creating a sickening stench. Her stomach hitched at the funk but she forced herself not to vomit. Dust clouded her view from dragging feet and shuffling paws. Her mouth dried, making her thirsty.
A boy collapsed in silence. A German shepherd nipped at the boy’s ear. The child didn’t cry or scream out. His left elbow sat at an odd angle as if he prepared to do a one armed pushup. Two dogs dragged the boy into the bushes. Vicious growls ensued. She remained silent, keeping pace with the other children.
Baxter’s War Page 5