by Tonia Brown
Perverted old goat, Boon said.
Go and scout, Dodger said in underspeak. He’s harmless.
Yes, well that’s more than I can say about you.
Dodger groaned. “Yes, sir, you can look all you like. But watch the touching.”
“She belong to someone?” Al asked.
“She belongs to herself, but her heart is spoken for.”
Very nicely put, Boon said.
“Who?” Al asked, then made a retching sound. “It ain’t that skinny feller is it?”
“No!” Dodger gagged a bit himself at the idea. “No, sir. Her beau is … away. Won’t be back for a while. But he will be back one day. Hopefully soon.”
“Then don’t that make her ripe for the pickin’? Seems like her man missing from her life is just the open window you need to slide in and take his place, even if just to give her a little comfort while he’s away.”
Harmless, you say? Boon asked.
“No, sir,” Dodger said. “Besides, that ship sailed.”
What is that supposed to mean? Boon shouted in Dodger’s mind.
“Come again, son?” Al asked.
“I mean to say,” Dodger said, “that there was a time when I thought I might have a chance with her, but fate proved otherwise. She isn’t interested in me in that manner. We are just friends.”
“She really that dedicated to this missing man of hers?”
“She sure is.” Dodger added once more, for Boon’s assurance, She sure is.
Thank you for that, Boon said. His presence faded away as he finally went to scout ahead.
“Well it ain’t my place to say, son,” Al said. “But maybe if you tried a little harder, then you could … Do you hear that?” Al stopped walking and held his thin hand to his ear, cupping the air for whatever it was he heard.
“What is it?” Dodger asked, straining to hear as well.
Al’s eyes widened. “The little one! That’s little Rodger cryin’!” Al took off running for the sound.
“Little Rodger?” Dodger asked the back of Al’s escaping form. “Great gravy, please don’t let that mean what I think it does.” With another sigh, Dodger set off after Al.
As they came closer to the mouth of the cave, Dodger was able to hear the child’s cries more clearly. The kid wailed and wailed and wailed, only pausing for the briefest of breaths. Al ducked behind a large boulder just at the entrance. Dodger fell in line behind him. Just beyond the mouth of the cave, Dodger could hear a woman’s voice complaining about the weather, the wait and everything in between. He peered over the rock to see Kitty strutting back and forth across the cavern.
“What’s the plan here?” Al asked.
“How deep does this cave go?” Dodger asked. They barely had to whisper, for the crying of the child and the complaints of the redhead covered their voices.
“Only a few hundred yards. Then it splits into two other sections.”
The children are in the smaller caves, Dodger, Boon said, joining them again.
“Sections?” Dodger asked.
“Yeah,” Al said. “Like rooms.”
This is a trap, Boon said. That redhead of yours is guarding the entrance to both, and she has about five of those bulldog men with her.
“Rex will have isolated the kids,” Dodger said. “One in each room.”
“You think?” Al asked.
“Yes. That sounds like something he would take advantage of.”
I only had a quick peek down each side, Boon said, but as far as I can tell, each child is in a contraption of some kind. They have timers on them. The timers are not functioning. Yet.
“He will have them set up in a trap too,” Dodger said. “My last run-in with him, he rigged three bombs, and I had to choose the right …” Dodger recognized the obvious as soon as he said it. “A test. This is another test.”
“A test?” Al asked. “What kind of test.”
“I’ll explain later.” Dodger pulled his gun, set the dial to a single shot, and nodded to Al. “Let’s go see how this plays out. You ready?”
Al readied his gun as well and nodded in return.
Go make sure the kids are unharmed, Dodger said to Boon.
Aye, sir, Boon said, and faded again.
Dodger held up three fingers, then two, then one. He stood and stepped away from the boulder, coming to rest right in the dead center of the cave’s opening. Al joined him, taking to Dodger’s left side.
Kitty had parked herself on a rock, looking bored out of her pretty redheaded skull. The bulldogs were playing cards, rather than guarding anyone or anything.
“Ugh!” Kitty groaned. “Can’t someone stop that thing?”
“Boss says let it keep doin’ it,” one of the bulldogs said without looking up from his cards.
“Stupid kids. I wasn’t hired to babysit a bunch of dead ducks.”
“I reckon you weren’t hired for your smarts, neither,” Dodger said.
The redhead jumped up and pulled her gun, training it on the men at the entrance.
The bulldog men leaped up too, scattering cards everywhere as they returned with haste to their posts—two at each entrance, and one backing Kitty. None of the dogs was armed, as far as Dodger could tell, though one dog on each side retrieved a small black box from his respective cave entrance.
“Well, well,” Kitty said loudly as she hopped down from her bolder and stepped closer to the pair. “Mr. Dodger. It sure is about time. And Mr. Jackson, pleasure to see you again.” She narrowed her eyes at the old man. “Ain’t you lookin’ well for someone who spent so much time under Grinder’s skillful hand?”
“What can I say?” Al asked in a shout over the boy’s cries. “I heal quicker than you young things.”
Kitty shrugged as if to say she really couldn’t care less. “I guess you’re here for the brats?”
“Where are they?” Dodger asked.
“One is down each tunnel,” Kitty said.
“I’ll take the left,” Al said. “You take the right.”
Dodger nodded, but he knew Kitty had no intention of letting either man pass.
Proving him right, she pulled her second gun and shoved the weapons at Dodger and Al. “Either of you move, and I’ll blow your brains out.”
“We’ve all got guns, sugar cakes,” Al said. “What’s stopping us from just killing you where you stand?”
“Ask him,” she said, eyeing Dodger. “He’s played this game before.”
“Dodger?” Al asked.
“You see the black boxes those dogs have?” Dodger asked.
Al squinted into the cave and nodded. “I reckon I do. What are they?”
“My guess is that they control either explosives or something attached to the kids.”
“Why can’t it be both?” Kitty asked with a pout, then broke into a wicked laugh.
“What do you want from us?” Al asked. “We solved the riddle. We figured out where the kids were.”
“That was just your first task,” Kitty said. “Rex has another little exam for his favorite student.”
“There is nothing that mutt can teach anyone,” Dodger said.
“Save how to keep fleas from biting your rump,” Al said.
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” Kitty said.
The girl is unconscious, but alive, Boon said, returning again. She is to the right, and rigged into what looks like an iron maiden.
“He knows so much,” Kitty continued. “So many exciting things.”
The boy child is sealed in an iron box to the left, Boon said. His cries are projected through a horn. He can’t have much air left at the rate he is crying.
Kitty licked her lips. “The world will be a much better place with him at the helm, that’s for sure.”
That settled that, then. Feng was right. The mutt wanted to rule the world.
“What next?” Dodger asked. “Another recorded message? Another riddle?”
“Another riddle, yes,” she said. “But I will del
iver the message. One word, gentlemen. Choose.”
“Excuse me?” Al said. He stuck a finger in his ear and twisted it about. “I’m a bit hard of hearing in this ear. Can you say that again?”
“You heard me right the first time, old man. Chose. Left or right. Girl or boy. One life or the other.”
“You have got to be joking,” Dodger said.
She can’t be serious, Boon said.
“We aren’t choosing,” Dodger said. He cocked his gun. “You’re gonna give us both of them, now.”
With a nod, Kitty holstered her guns, then raised her hands to either sides of her and snapped.
The bulldogs with the control boxes jolted upright to attention. “Yes, ma’am! We’re ready, ma’am!”
“Go on,” Kitty said. “Tempt me to do it. I would love nothing more than to shut that whining brat up for good. The girl or the boy. Your call.” She grinned an evil smirk. “Your fault too.”
“I said we aren’t-” Dodger started.
“The girl,” Al said over him.
“What?” Dodger asked.
That boy will suffocate if we don’t get him out of the box, Boon said.
“The girl,” Al repeated.
“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to choose.”
Al ignored Dodger and said, “The girl. Please.”
“Are you certain?” Kitty asked.
“Al?” Dodger asked.
Al glanced to Dodger and of all the incongruent things to do, the old man winked. “I’m certain.” Al returned his attention to Kitty as he holstered his own weapon. “The girl. We want to rescue the girl.”
“Done,” Kitty said. She snapped her right hand, signaling the bulldog on the left side of Dodger to activate his box.
The crying came to an abrupt stop.
No! Boon cried, and his spirit left the area.
Dodger closed his eyes and breathed hard, trying to push back the urge to run after Boon. Something deeper was at work here. Al wouldn’t just sacrifice the life of one child over another, would he? Dodger opened his eyes again and glanced to Al. Not a single tear stood in the old man’s eyes. He looked more excited than upset, like he had won a prize rather than condemning the kid to an assuredly terrible demise.
“Well?” Kitty said. “Go get her.”
“You won’t interfere?” Al asked.
Kitty held up her hands. “My work here is done, honey. Sit with the kids, make you chose, kill the loser. Those were my instructions.”
Al didn’t wait any longer. He pushed past the redhead and ran down the right hand tunnel. “Sarah! I’m coming for ya, hon!”
“Show’s over!” Kitty called to the bulldog men. “Haul out!”
The men started shuffling about, gathering their things, preparing to leave.
Holstering Hortense, Dodger meant to follow Al, only to have Kitty grab him by the wrist and hold him back.
“You won’t win,” she said with a purr. “Rex can’t be stopped. He’s far too clever and willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants. I mean whatever it takes. Are you willing to do whatever it takes?”
“Is that so?” Dodger asked. “Because I reckon I know someone even cleverer than your Canus Rex.”
Kitty started at the nickname.
Dodger could tell she was struggling not to giggle at it. “Now, admittedly, my friend isn’t willing to do what is necessary if it means someone finding themselves in harm’s way. But, you see, that is why he hired me. I have no qualms about doin’ what needs to be done.”
Kitty drew closer to Dodger, glancing down the length of his body and back up again as she groaned in approval. “You can still join the winning side. I’ll make all kinds of room for you, honey.”
Dodger pulled his wrist from her grip. “I am on the winning side. The losers just don’t know it yet.”
“I’m offering you a once in a lifetime chance-”
“I know what you’re offering.” Dodger raked his gaze over her bumps and curves, until he locked eyes with her again. “But I reckon I’ve had better.” It wasn’t a lie. A man couldn’t travel the breadth of the world without sampling a bit of her sweetest bounty. He just failed to add that, save for his unconscious experience at the Desert Rose, it had been a number of years since that better sample.
Or any at all.
“Go on, then,” she said. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I reckon I’ll find you on the losing side.”
He left her boiling mad as he jogged down the tunnel.
****
back to toc
****
Chapter Thirteen
Answer Me a Question
In which Dodger must solve the most important riddle
The secondary cave was half the size of the main one and just as carefully crafted, with a smooth dirt floor, brick walls and a natural dirt roof. The place was probably intended to be employed as a bedroom, but Rex had warped its purpose just as he warped everything on which he laid his filthy little paws. Instead of hosting a comfortable bed, the room housed a metal monstrosity.
It bore the look of a coffin split in half, or better still, a sarcophagus, for it tapered and curved from foot to head in the style of the human form. The upper half hung from the ceiling, attached by a complicated series of ropes, pulleys and chains. The inside of this cap was layered with strategically placed spikes of a variety of sizes, with the largest being at the heart and the smallest at the eyes. The lower half of the thing sat at waist height on a wooden table, and it held an unconscious young girl and, as far as Dodger could tell, no spikes. Yet.
“Sarah,” Al said, stepping forward to check on her.
Dodger caught him by the shoulder. “I wouldn’t.” He nodded to the hanging lid and the danger lining the inside of it.
“Right. Probably a hidden tripwire or something.” Al worried his hands against one another. “You’ve got more experience with this sort of thing, son. What do we do?”
“Inspect it first. It’s my guess that we’re meant to get near it, but never assume anything when dealing with that mutt.”
It didn’t take long for Dodger to deem the contraption safe to approach, or deduce its rigging and purpose. At the foot of the thing was a control panel, which bore a series of tumblers, five in all, as well as what looked to be a clock of sorts. The clock face was decorated in the usual style, save that the numbers ran from one to sixty. A single hand rested at the top, pointing to sixty. The hanging lid was, of course, attached to this panel, as was the bottom half. The sarcophagus kept the young girl its prisoner by means of thick manacles binding her wrists and feet to the inside of the thing. A recognizable metal horn jutted out of the left side of the contraption, while a tempting red button sat between the clock and the tumblers, bearing a command.
Press me.
“It should be safe,” Dodger said. “Make sure she’s still with us.”
Al leaped to the girl’s side and checked her for signs of life. He tenderly patted her face and shook her shoulders, but the young thing didn’t respond. “She’s alive, but she ain’t comin’ to.”
“He’s probably drugged her.”
“We have to get her out of here.”
“There must be a code to unlock those shackles.” Dodger pointed to the red button. “And I reckon this will tell us how to find it.”
“Are you sure?” Al asked. “Might be rigged to blow this hole to kingdom come.”
“I don’t think so. Rex is enjoying pulling my strings far too much fun to end it like this. Besides, he hasn’t gotten his paws on the train yet.”
“Well, go on, then. Push it and see what he says.”
Dodger pressed the red button, and just as expected, the pleasant strains of Vivaldi filled the small cave.
“Mr. Dodger, we meet again. I am sorry I can’t be there to greet you, but I have other obligations. I wish I could see the painful look on your face right now.
How sorrowful you must be at ending the life of that poor child. How horrible you must feel, having to choose who lives and who dies. Knowing you must bear the responsibility of your decision for the rest of your life. But then again, you are familiar with that, aren’t you? What is one more life as long as you achieve your goal? Yes?”
As the mutt spoke, Boon joined them in the small cave, his ethereal eyes swollen with grief. He looked to Dodger, shook his head, then looked away again.
“But on to other things. You see before you a contraption of ingenious design. As I am sure you’ve surmised, the hanging lid is designed to descend upon the lower half, driving those lovely spikes deep into the tender flesh of the child within. Unless, of course, you can input the correct code word into the panel in time to rescue her.”
“We sure will,” Al whispered.
“As for the code word, here is your clue: If you break me, I’ll continue working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing else matters. What am I? You have sixty seconds, Mr. Dodger. Good luck.”
The voice faded beneath the swelling music before the recording came to an abrupt halt with a loud click. Another click sounded, followed by a steady ticking. Dodger glanced to the clock face, not surprised to see the hand counting down the given sixty seconds. With each tick of the clock, the suspended lid dropped closer and closer to the sleeping Sarah.
“Dodger,” Boon said, “that thing is dropping.”
“I can see that,” Dodger said.
“How do we stop it?” Al asked.
“We need to figure out the riddle. Do you know the answer?”
“I can’t think straight. I’m not sure.”
Dodger spun one of the five tumblers, not surprised to find it turned over to the letter A. Five letters would answer the riddle and unlock the sleeping child. Dodger ran the question over in his mind again. Broken, but it still works. Touch it to capture it. When you lose it, nothing else matters. There was only one thing Dodger could think of that fit all of those requirements. He spun each tumbler to the appropriate letter, spelling out the answer to the riddle.
“What are you doing?” Al asked.
“Heart,” Dodger said. “The answer is heart.” As soon as he clicked the last tumbler to a T, the shackles snapped open, but the lid continued to drop. “Quick, get her out of there.”