Akiko stumbled from the commotion, fists bald in fury. She stared at Oliver who seized the dog while pressing the knife into black fur. “What are you doing?”
Gladys lifted a hand. “Oliver, don’t.”
“We are leaving. I’m not waiting for this mutt to give me the go ahead. We’re humans.”
Black growled and struggled against Oliver’s hold.
A pit bull leaped and chomped on Oliver’s hand holding the knife. The soldier screamed and jerked. His grip tightened on Black.
Romulus lunged into the air. His sturdy bulk sailing, muscles rippling, maw drawn over fangs. He landed on Oliver, sinking his teeth into his lower jaw and puncturing an eye. The solider released his hold on Black and fell to the ground grappling with Romulus’s compact frame.
Black stood by Akiko's side as the fatal scuffle ensued. Oliver lost the knife, picked up the blade again as the pit bulls swarmed him, biting and tearing into flesh. Blood flowed and splashed, growls rose into a fierce cacophony of bloodthirsty rage.
Akiko looked at Gladys who averted her gaze and shuffled into the crowd. The girl assumed Gladys set her up, involving herself in the man’s scheme to snatch Black as a hostage. She shifted to the pit bulls feasting on Oliver's corpse. Served him right. She understood the Canine’s struggle to be free, to use violence against those who wanted them dead.
50
Moraine suffered in silence as Jenny shifted into the Unimog’s front passenger seat. Erik lay on a sleeping pad with hands bandaged in blood soaked gauzes.
Moraine studied his waning breaths. The pit bulls punctured veins and arteries in both his wrists, causing him to bleed out. His cheeks became ashen. Death waited for Moraine to say goodbye. They tried saving him, and their actions failed in keeping him on this side of the world.
“Moraine,” his voice rasped.
Moraine inched closer to his parched lips. “Yes.”
“Don’t cry for me. Save your strength for Casey.”
Moraine shut her eyes as hot tears flowed. “I’m so sorry, Erik.”
“Don’t apologize.”
She rested her head against his sternum. His heartbeat thrummed out in fragile patters. Each thump weakening, spacing by seconds. His dying lungs rattled, drawing out in alarming pauses.
Moraine adjusted herself as Erik's eyelids half masted and dulled. Each of his breaths shortened as the minutes ticked. Without preamble, his breathing stopped altogether.
A sense of emptiness swept through her. She stared at the Unimog ceiling lined with interior lights, the beams spilled bright against her upturned face. Her thoughts drifted to memories of their third date, their wedding, and Casey’s birth.
Her mind held those past pictures and mental videos as she unwrapped the bandages from his hands. With care she wiped the blood from his mangled appendages using cotton balls and alcohol.
The dogs ripped off a few fingers, leaving jagged rents of flesh and exposed bone. Holes thickened with dried blood dotted his palms. After cleaning both hands, she crossed them over his chest. Moraine closed his eyes.
“Jenny, can you declare him dead? To be sure.”
Jenny got up and sat near Moraine and pressed her pointer and index fingers against his jugular vein.
“He’s gone, Moraine.”
Moraine trembled. Numbness crawled into her soul and the emotion settled in her belly. A weight of lead. She swung open the rear Unimog door to confront the late afternoon. Pete and the three others huddled in the Ram’s cab. The newcomer strolled a distance off with his dog.
Moraine grabbed a pack and placed an entrenching tool inside its empty innards. She wrapped Erik in a green army blanket and secured her work with twine. She turned to Jenny. “Help me, please.”
They managed Erik’s corpse from the Unimog cargo hold.
“Pete, you're in charge,” Moraine said.
Pete exited the truck armed with an M4. He kept silent, watching them struggle with Erik and disappear towards a hill cloaked in shadows.
Moraine discovered a clearing. Her and Jenny laid the body on a cushion of brown fallen leaves. She removed the E-tool from her bag and jammed the sharp edge into the unforgiving earth. She found the first four strokes difficult until the hard ground loosened from dry to soft. The digging took an hour, the sun crept west, throwing a heavier shade against the scene.
Moraine completed her task. Pain annoyed her lower back, paling compared to her aching heart. Jenny remained by Erik, fanning the pesky flies away.
Moraine approached Erik, hefting him by his shoulders, dragging him to the grave she created. She dropped her right foot in, followed by her left. Jenny moved, seeing her efforts in balancing her load. “It's ok, Jenny. I need to bury him alone.”
She worked Erik into the gaping soil as gentle as possible until he stretched flat on the cool earthen floor. Moraine climbed out, drove her E-tool into the mound she made. She paused for a moment. “I lost my man because of a lousy earthquake and me not shooting a pair of fucking strays.”
Moraine shoveled, slow and then faster until she filled the hole with dirt. She contemplated the fresh grave, imagining Erik’s once living body buried underneath the dust.
“I’ll see you again,” She said. “But I will spill so much blood you might return and haunt me and tell me to stop my bloodletting.”
Jenny neared the burial site and mouthed a Buddhist prayer. “What's next?”
“War, Jenny.”
“We don't have troops.”
The bushes rustled, and the stranger emerged from the brush. He motioned the crucifix and acknowledged Moraine with a nod. “My name is Jacob. This is my dog Davin.”
Jenny looked at the huge furry animal, a mixture of something shaggy and Rottweiler. “I'm Jenny Chow, this here is Moraine Baxter.”
Moraine gazed at the dog, her fingers tightened on the E-tool handle. “Why he didn’t change?”
Jacob patted Davin’s big head. The dog slipped out a tongue and licked his master’s hand. “He’s a mutt, Moraine. The ones raising hell up the hill. They are pure breeds and use the mutts for menial tasks. Making shitters and such.”
Moraine frowned. “And?”
“Lots of people escaped Milpitas, San Jose, here in Gilroy. A few military people said they saw you at the National Guard camp.”
Moraine slid the shovel into the backpack. “And?”
Jacob dug into his coat pocket. “One of them gave me this, told me to find you.”
Jacob pulled out a rolled up Time magazine. He unrolled the worn item and displayed the glossy cover to the two women.
Jenny leaned forward. “Wow.”
Jacob smiled and nodded. “Moraine Baxter, only woman ever invited to Delta Force. Join us in Bakersfield. We're planning to destroy this dog army.”
Moraine focused on the photo. A slimmer, tanned Moraine wearing a Team Wendy helmet, combat vest loaded with grenades and magazines. A cigar dangled from her mouth as she stood somewhere in the Afghan mountains holding her cat Skitters.
“What do you want from me?”
“Your help, Moraine.”
Jenny pursed her lips. “Moraine?”
Moraine stepped from the grave, brushed by Jacob, and vanished into the growing darkness.
51
Black stood his ground as the pit bulls continued ripping into the soldier. He blinked, taking steady breaths while watching blood splash the uncaring earth in gushes. The man’s legs kicked as Romulus straddled him, his teeth deep into his victim’s neck.
Black gazed up at Akiko. Her effort to save him elevated her in his eyes, a surprise considering he held her as a slave. He padded away from the scene, letting the dogs feast as the captives cried and screamed in horror at the Canines gorging themselves with sweet brown flesh.
The last hours challenged him. He bumped into humans he wanted to kill, allowed to flee by a human that may need killing soon. Moraine's eagerness to become a dangerous problem lingered in his mind. He pardoned her for her
inadvertent decision not to murder him and White during their escape.
Moraine appeared a second time holding White hostage. He needed White despite their temporary differences and exchanging White for Moraine’s husband worked. He decided keeping their child might stall Moraine from any rash actions.
Once Oliver grabbed Akiko, he found an opportunity to act, using it to solidify his leadership and display of bravery.
Black sneezed as he moved to his campsite surrounded by Dobermans. White rested amid vigilant Saint Bernards monitoring his wellbeing. One Saint Bernard trundled up to Black.
“Your wounds, Sir.”
“I’m okay, care for White and keep him healthy.” Black ambled to the tree he camped underneath and curled himself against the sturdy trunk.
“Molly,” Black said.
Molly showed up from the fresh shadows as the sun slipped behind the hills and the air cooled. “Yes?”
“Gather the Cadre for a meeting,” he said.
Molly bounded off into the dusky light. Five minutes later the dogs drifted into camp.
Alexander the Golden Retriever arrived first, trailed by Alvito the Chihuahua. Draco the Rottweiler, King the Doberman, and Brutus the German Shepard yowling in soft tones. The final Canine, Romulus the pit bull, arrived with his muzzle washed in gore.
Black waited as the dogs positioned themselves in a semi circle. Akiko, as humble as ever, started a campfire, enabling the dogs to stare at each other. The eight-year-olds followed, carrying bowls heavy with dog food. Romulus slid his bowl aside, full from feasting on Private Jamal Oliver. An eleven-year-old slave wiped fleshy bits of Oliver from Romulus's powerful jaws.
Black watched the flames burst and glow amber, stalling the darkness and warming the diners. A child placed a plate before Black who lost his appetite. With a right paw he prodded the wet chunks of canned horse fat drowning in peppered gravy.
Black ruminated about his responsibilities until the Canine officers finished their meals. He glanced at White resting on the dried grass, eyes open and glittering from the fire. White displayed an apologetic subservient gaze, resembling a dog beaten too long by his master. Black hated White's appearance. He preferred his companion filled with strength minus the undercurrent of arrogance.
“Alexander, do you wish to start,” Black said.
Alexander sat. “I do, Black. The Cadre has chosen.”
Black remained silent, waiting.
Alexander swept his head around. “We announce you Caesar, with White, pro consul.”
“A vice president,” Black said.
Alexander nodded. “Yes. Does anyone agree with this motion?”
Each Cadre member barked, agreeing with Alexander.
Black looked at White who tucked his nose under a left paw. “How did you conclude this?”
King tapped a stump with a paw. “We saw your courage and how you handled the humans. You proved your ability to remain cool under extreme stress.”
Alexander clacked his fangs, drawing their faces to his. “But we ask, Black, that you never endanger yourself again.”
“Yes,” Alvito said. “We acknowledge your leaderships and, we also desire to ensure your safety.”
Black focused on the wood charring from the brilliant blaze. “I must set an example and lead from the front if we are to recruit new troops.”
“Understood,” Alexander noted. “Now, what do we do with them?” He gestured towards the people hidden amongst the growing night.
“We leave them,” Black said with finality in his bark. “They will not follow us, if so, we force them to change their minds.”
Romulus grumbled low in his throat. “After my delicious appetizer I doubt any of them has the balls to try.”
Black swished his tail. “Don’t underestimate them my dear, General. I believe more is occurring than we see.”
“General Grisby,” White spoke from outside the group.
Fur coated heads turned to face White. “His name is General Grisby. The person who stopped Moraine Baxter from shooting me.”
Black produced what he deemed a smile, displaying his many incisors as relief rushed over his body in a warm wave. “Come, my friend.”
White climbed to his paws, he buckled for a moment until righting himself. With slow steps he approached them and made his place besides Black.
The white collie stared at his four legged brothers. “Grisby oversaw the Damascus Chips program. He visited the Labs to check our progress. He wants us to reach Mother so he can control us.”
Black growled. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I thought him dead due to the earthquake. He’s alive, eager to make sure we succeed in our quest. So much so he will eliminate other humans trying to impede our goal. He even deactivated our self destruct timers.”
Alexander huffed. “How do we stop him?”
White paused, appearing to think. “Moraine Baxter.”
Black wandered off a few feet, immersing himself in the dark. He despised Moraine. Not for being human, but for her willingness to thwart their plans. His keen ears picked up murmuring voices and distraught cries. “We depart in the morning. So, rest everyone.”
52
Doctor Robert Carver sat in the Blackhawk helicopter next to General George Grisby. The team rode in silence, soaked in amber interior lights as the dark world slid underneath them. Across from Robert, four Delta Force operators rested, armed and geared out with the fancy stuff other scientists at the Labs thought up for their use.
Grisby patted Robert’s knee. “It’s ok, Robert. This experiment will serve a greater purpose.”
Robert parted his lips. Anger and shame commanded his emotions despite his efforts to control them. “We do what we must, General.”
Grisby grunted. “That’s bullshit. I know you’re angry at what happened. Listen, I will guarantee you a lifetime financial pipeline for every item you create.”
Robert tumbled the offer through his mind. "Are you promising me the government won't steal my new inventions?"
Grisby wiggled his fingers. "I won't go that far, but I'll protect you from Moraine Baxter," he said while delivering a faux shiver.
The scientist faced Grisby. “After today, you and those canines are her priority to kill.”
Grisby chuckled. “Add your name to the list, little buddy. Join us. Moraine, she’s a throwaway. I’ll hate to lose Jenny though. What a waste.”
Robert tugged his cell from his jacket pocket. He turned on the device. The helicopter electronics interfered with the tracking. “Where's FEMA and the extra troops?”
Grisby rubbed his chin. “I didn’t ask for them. This entire science project goes higher than you, little buddy.”
Robert ached to punch Grisby, but he never fought in his life. “Don't call me that.”
Grisby leaned forward. “Little Buddy, I’ll refer to you how the fuck I want. Who else is keeping you alive to increase your family legacy?”
“I don’t need your help.”
Grisby displayed a smile. The crimson light burnished his teeth a rusty copper, transforming him into something horrible. “Word is, a dangerous virus is spreading through the state.”
“What do you mean?”
“California is my laboratory, and the dogs are succeeding as I expected.”
Robert sensed his chest hitch. He wanted to cry. A strong loneliness swept through him. “No one is coming?”
Grisby grinned. His visage bathed in red resembled a demon from the underworld. “Not unless I say so.”
Robert closed his eyes as silent tears fell. He owed Moraine for saving him, and he hated owing people.
“How long will this testing last?”
“Until you shit out another weapon stronger than the Damascus Chips. The funds are easy to get.”
“My friends will die in your Petri dish.”
General Grisby guffawed. “Who needs pals when having unlimited power is much more fun.”
53
Moraine sat on the Unimog’s roof with the night sky splashed in stars above her. The others huddled in the Unimog’s cavernous cargo space, sleeping as she pulled guard duty. Dogs howled in the distance and to her surprise none bothered to poke around their camp.
She inhaled the garlic-laced air as her eyes flicked towards the dark hill where Erik lay buried. An ache gnawed her belly knowing he rested underneath the uncaring ground and not her warm embrace.
Moraine considered Erik’s demise payback for not stopping Alek in Afghanistan, or at least searching the boy, insuring he cleared before bringing the tea inside the meeting house.
Twenty people and her sweet Skitters died in the blast. She resigned after the attack. Now, she expected California's death rate to challenge her first brush with a lack of foresight.
Moraine accepted her fresh problem. Those familiar with Black and White’s capabilities became incapacitated after the earthquake. Except for Robert, who ordered her to shoot the dogs before they escaped.
Rules of engagement, her mind screamed. Kill or not, a moment of softness shredded her world twice. The second subpar act being the greatest, touching her family and threatening an entire state.
Casey’s face filled her thoughts, floating above the red sea of anger flowing through her heart. She wondered if her child substituted for the life of another so long ago.
Casey's doe eyes and puckered lips transfigured into an internal hit list. Grisby, Black, White, and Robert for sure, names she scribbled on her mental chalkboard. Rescuing her daughter, defeating a pack of four legged freaks energized her. Task mounted on task, a weight she needed to bear to save a girl too innocent to understand the illogical human drive for power.
Moraine took Jacob on, deciding to meet these volunteers tucked in Bakersfield. From what Jacob told her they waited for Black and White's arrival, hoping to unleash an ambush.
She worried over the computerized leash called the Damascus Chips. If the dogs created this much havoc under the control of a super computer, the violence once the chains fell off unnerved her.
Baxter’s War Page 19