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Bobby D. Lux - Dog Duty

Page 24

by Bobby D. Lux


  “I’m not,” Saucy said, stopping. “Wait a second, what’s that?”

  “What’s what?”

  “That thing. You hear that, Ernie?”

  “No. What is it?”

  “Come here,” Saucy said, as she crept close to Ernie. She put her ear up in the air and kept it by Ernie’s head like she was directing him where to listen.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Ernie said.

  “Shhh. It’s right… THERE!” Saucy barked into Ernie’s ear, and sent him flying back in terror. He crashed into a file cabinet. The sounds of the collision clanged all the way down the warehouse.

  “Very funny, Saucy,” Ernie said.

  “You practically begged me too.”

  “’Ey, you ‘ear somt’um?” a voice clearly born east of Grand City said. Ernie gestured towards a staircase that led to a second story catwalk. “’Oooo’s down there? I coulda swore I ‘eard some dogs.”

  “That can’t be him,” Ernie said, as Henry’s voice seemed to follow them up the stairs. They watched Henry lumber towards where the two of them had stood moments ago. The obtusely elongated shadow of Henry’s flat face poked through below as Ernie and Saucy looked over the edge of the catwalk.

  “We’re surrounded by dogs that won’t shut up,” a voice said, one that Ernie had no trouble linking to Scamper. The end of Henry’s shadow stood still for a moment and then it returned with a mumbled curse back to where it came from. “Get back over here so we can get these shipments loaded.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Ernie said. “What’s Henry doing with him?”

  “Should we go get Fritz?” Saucy said.

  “Not yet.”

  “He said just to see who was here. Let’s go get him.”

  “We will. I just need to know what’s going on. Keep quiet and we can follow them from up here. They’re not expecting us. We’ll be safe up here.”

  Saucy sighed and followed Ernie as they hugged the edge of the catwalk and kept a healthy distance behind Henry as he went back towards Scamper.

  “Oh my god,” Saucy whispered. She pointed down the walkway and they both saw where the cries were coming from: crates upon crates upon crates, stacked on top of one another, some packed with as many as three little dogs. Most of the dogs were sedated or drunk and were barely older than puppies. The crates stunk so bad they made the pet stores in the mall smell like roses. “Ernie, look. What are they doing?”

  “I don’t know. Stay here.”

  “Ernie, don’t.”

  “I said stay here,” Ernie said, with a finality that startled Saucy. She took cover on the catwalk while Ernie walked into the open. He found another staircase that descended across the other side of the warehouse.

  “Henry?” Ernie said, as he got closer than Saucy would’ve liked.

  “Mr. Tubbs?” Henry said. “What brings you about these parts? You shouldn’t be ‘ere.”

  “What are you doing with him, Henry?” Ernie said.

  “Just doin’ some business. Why don’t you just turn right around and disappear? Pretend you ain’t seen a thing ‘round ‘ere. Sound good?”

  “He’s not leaving,” Scamper said. “He’s going in one of the crates too. He’s seen too much. Plus, he owes us for lost earnings.”

  “Henry, these guys are criminals,” Ernie said.

  “So’m I, Ern.”

  “But they’re actual ones, Henry. You just run a club.”

  “Sorry, bloke. That bobby came poking ‘round me place asking too many questions, so I ‘ad to reach out to get me some protection. Turns out, we ‘ave a partnership worked out that’s mutually beneficial to all involved. They look out for me place. I ‘and ‘em over the mutts who won’t pay the tab. Mutual, y’know.”

  “You have Knox and Gash,” Ernie said. “What other protection do you need? Where are they anyway? I should talk to them.”

  “I sold off Knox and Gash to these blokes to be big dog fighters. Me new partner ‘ere promises myself a percentage of their fightin’ purses. In return, I ‘elp round up scabs and strays for training, and no one bats an eye at me club anymore. Win, win.”

  “Fritz wasn’t coming after your club. He didn’t care about your operation.”

  “Once a cop, always a cop, I say. They always find a way to care. Either today or tomorrow, ‘e’d be back for me.”

  “I’d feel much more comfortable,” Scamper said, “if the two of you would play catch up with him inside a crate.”

  “Not a chance, pal,” Ernie said.

  “Sorry, Ernie,” Henry said. “A deal’s a deal. If ‘e won’t let you go, there’s nothing I can do. Nothing personal, bloke. I always liked ya. Always paid the tab.”

  “And to answer your other question,” Scamper said, “Knox and Gash should be taking care of your buddy out there as we speak.”

  “Nipper?”

  Speaking of Nipper, he was gaining on The Perp as they raced down the pier. He picked up the scent quickly and was in foot pursuit. The Perp was headed towards a security office at the end of the pier.

  “Hurry!” Scarlett screamed. Nipper excused the shrillness in her voice. He understood, he told himself.

  We’ll get back to him soon enough.

  Clay kept a few feet behind Knox and Gash as they slithered towards me, ready to attack. They had me backed up to the edge of the dock, a step away from falling into the ocean.

  “Nowhere to go, Fritz,” Clay said.

  “Think he’ll jump?” Gash said.

  “I hope not,” Knox said.

  “Don’t worry,” Clay said. “He’s got too much pride to not go down without a fight. He’s probably still trying to figure out how to make this fair.”

  “I’m going to take one of you with me,” I said, stalling. “Of course, the three of you can do whatever you want to me, but I’m gonna make sure that only two of you will be able to celebrate. Whoever wants to be the one who misses the party can come first.”

  Knox and Gash stopped and looked at each other. The ocean water splashed against the back of my legs.

  “I don’t want to go first,” Knox said.

  “You don’t have to,” Clay said. “What are you waiting for?”

  “We gotta decide who’s going to attack first,” Gash said. “We gotta figure out who’s got the best chance against him.”

  “Take your time,” I said. “Don’t make any hasty decisions.”

  “You can both attack him at once, you idiots!” Clay said. An explosion of knowledge spewed across Knox and Gash’s face. They took matching deep breaths and turned to me in sync.

  “Nice try, cop,” Knox said.

  “Your tricks won’t work on us,” Gash said, as they approached and took position on either side of me.

  I think this is good time to explain something: sometimes in life things just happen. Whether you’re looking for them to happen or not. A day is nothing more than a series of random happenings. Some of them are good, some aren’t, and most don’t make any difference at all; just another blink of the eye that doesn’t obstruct your view or a sniff that doesn’t pick up a scent.

  Things happen that make you think you have an invisible friend looking out for you, while some lead you to believe that you’ve been cursed and are paying a penance for a crime you didn’t commit. It’s like the waves at the beach; they’re going to run through you no matter how much you try to control them, stop them, or try to get out of their way. That’s what random things in life are like. It’s life. It’s a wave.

  In my case, at that moment with no outs, and with the fuse lit towards my final breath, my wave was a German Shepherd who I despised up until that moment. But when I saw Nitro speeding towards us faster than I could ever run in my prime, there was no one else I wanted there. Gash didn’t see it coming. None of them did. The absolute crash of bones into bones was startling. Nitro didn’t slow up as he plowed into Gash’s side, and inserted his jaws into Gash’s shoulder. They violently slammed into Knox and the th
ree of them tumbled off the pier into the ocean. Nitro only let go of Gash moments before he splashed into the cold water.

  “I’m okay!” Nitro said. “Did you see that? I totally took out two at one time.”

  “That just happened,” I said, as I stepped away from the pier and growled at Clay, who grunted a sort of half-hearted acknowledgment. “Now where were we?”

  I leapt in and attacked Clay.

  “Nothing personal, Tubbs,” Henry said, as Scamper dragged an open crate to where they were.

  “I thought we were friends, Henry,” Ernie said.

  “We still are, Ernst. Me club comes first. Everyone knows that.”

  “Put him in,” Scamper said. “We don’t have time to waste with this street fleabag.”

  “You want to send your friend away somewhere where I’ll be fed to a fighting dog?” Ernie said, as he walked into the crate and sat down. “Is that what you want? Fine. You do that. You do that to your friend. Let’s see how you live with that. Just remember, I always pay my tab.”

  “Apologies, mate,” Henry said, as he slammed the door in Ernie’s face.

  “That didn’t go as planned,” Ernie said, his voice trembling. “Ummm, aren’t you going to see the error of your way? I just sacrificed myself to point out your mistake.”

  “No mistakes here, dummy,” Scamper said. “Lock him up.”

  Scamper’s order was never obeyed. Ernie has a forty-pound mutt who took a flying leap off a second-story catwalk to thank for that. Saucy glided through the air and landed flush on Henry’s spine, knocking the wind out of him.

  “Get out of there,” Saucy said, in a primal scream to Ernie, who awoke from whatever altruistic trance had overcome him. Ernie head-butted the crate door open, pounced on Scamper, and pinned him to the ground.

  “I’ve been waiting to do this,” Ernie said.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” Scamper said.

  “I thought I was some street fleabag.”

  “I was wrong about that.”

  “No you weren’t. I hate baths.”

  Ernie snagged Scamper by his collar, nearly snapping it off. He yanked Scamper off the ground and dragged him in front of the open crate. Ernie spun around and mule-kicked Scamper in the mouth, sending him and a few errant teeth into the crate. Saucy locked Scamper in. The other dogs surrounding them in the crates erupted in cheers, yells, hollers, and howls at this unforeseen change in events.

  “We have to free them,” Saucy said.

  “How?” Ernie said. “They’re locked in… Wait a second. This has worked for me in the past. Sheesh, I promised myself I’d never do this again.”

  Ernie trotted several yards away and lined himself up with the wall of crates. He howled liked a banshee and ran towards the wall of crated dogs. Ernie tucked his shoulder, pushed hard off his legs and flung his body, skull-first with reckless abandon, into the center of the stacked crates. For a brief moment after impact, it looked like a cartoon where gravity was slow on the pickup. The crates hovered in the air momentarily, while the dogs inside went from instant elation to an immediate fear for their safety. The rational laws of the universe returned and the crates fell hard to the floor; their flimsy metal doors breaking off in the process. Any doors that didn’t break open on impact were pulled open by Saucy or by another freed dog. They were banged up, a tad woozy, but the misfit dogs were okay.

  “That was pretty cool, Ernie,” Saucy said.

  “Remind me to never do that again,” Ernie said. “Seriously, that was the last time.”

  “I can’t breathe,” Henry said, not having regained his breath from Saucy’s landing. He coughed and convulsed uncontrollably as he rolled away from the others.

  “What about him?” Saucy said.

  “What about him?” Ernie said, as the freed dogs surrounded Henry and weren’t concerned about making sure he was okay. “Just another rat from the gutter as far as I’m concerned. Fritz was right. This time it was for real. And it looks like there’s no one here to save you.”

  “No ‘ard feelings, whadda ya all say, right? Tell you what, ‘ow ‘bout you all get a lifetime free tab at The Dogcatcher’s Net, on the ‘ouse. A one-time only like special.”

  There were no takers among the two dozen dogs who stuck around to tend to Henry.

  “Should we do something?” Saucy said, to Ernie.

  “What can we do?” Ernie said. “They’re free dogs. They can do whatever they want to him. We didn’t see anything.”

  “You can’t just leave,” Scamper said, with a mouth that was now short a few teeth. “You can’t just leave me like this.”

  “You’re right,” Ernie said, as he spotted a pull-down power switch off in the corner, one that looked like the kind they use to flip the switch on the electric chair. “We can’t just leave you like that. Let’s see what this does.”

  Ernie jumped up, grabbed the handle in his mouth, and pulled that lever down. A machine connected to the handle whirred to life with a high-pitched fervor. A giant crane swooped down from the ceiling and squeezed its grip around Scamper’s crate. Scamper was lifted with ease and the crane followed a track along the ceiling and stopped over an open cargo container marked with strange lettering (“looked liked a bunch of scribbles” Ernie said, later). The jaws opened and the crate fell into the container with an echoing metallic thud that rang their ears.

  “Did you know that was going to happen?” Saucy said.

  “Nope. But sometimes, like Fritz says, you just have to go for it.”

  Look, I don’t believe that either, but this was the story as relayed to me straight from Ernie himself. Who am I to question him on his story? It was his moment of glory and he earned it. If he says he shipped Scamper to China, then as you’re reading this, Scamper is being chased through the streets of Beijing by a chef with a meat cleaver. We should be so lucky.

  For the record, Saucy didn’t correct the story when I asked her about it. And no, Ernie wasn’t around when I asked her, so who knows?

  Nipper caught up with The Perp at the end of the pier.

  “Would you hurry up, please darling?” Scarlet said.

  “I’m trying my best here,” Nipper said. “I’m almost got him.”

  “Wait, is that you, Nipper? I was hoping that was Fritz coming for me.”

  “You got me,” Nipper said, as he smelled the same fear coming off The Perp that I did that night in the alley. It’s repulsive and insulting and there’s something in it that makes you want to eat it. Nipper wondered if he was really there to save Scarlet, was he there to catch The Perp, or was he chasing him for a whole other reason that might not be so black and white? Nipper was a few feet from The Perp, seconds away from catching him, and then what? He’d never bit a human hard before. He’d play wrestled with Officer Hart, but barely put any pressure on a bite. Could he bite with vicious intent on a human if he had to? What would it taste like? Would there be blood? There better be if he was going to bite hard enough to stop him. There was only way to know. “And I got this, Scarlet.”

  The Perp threw Scarlet’s crate to the ground.

  “Scarlett!” Nipper barked, as he watched it roll over and over several times before skidding to a halt. The Perp flung open his jacket, reached inside, and pointed a shiny gun right at Nipper’s charging, wipe open mouth. The gun went off. It exploded next to Nipper’s ear. The immediate heat from the barrel singed the fur on Nipper’s neck. Shreds of fur along his tail were sliced off as the bullet whizzed by.

  Nipper had an instinct that any dog, police or otherwise, could be proud of. He sunk in the bite of his life around The Perp’s forearm and tackled him hard to the ground. He wasn’t thinking about Scarlet or if she was okay. The bones in The Perp’s forearm bent in Nipper’s mouth. The crack and the release of their natural tension vibrated through his teeth. The Perp cried out in agony and tried to reach for the gun that fell from his hand when his head bounced off the concrete. Nipper straddled his prey and tore at the limp arm in h
is mouth. He was no longer the dog he’d been before. He tasted blood. The adrenaline turned Nipper into a wolf. Scarlet, dazed, but otherwise no worse for wear, loved what she saw.

  The Perp stopped squirming and was still crying, but Nipper held on to that bite as long as he needed to. Not even the oncoming sirens stopped him.

  Clay got the first bite on me. I expected both of us would go for an immediate throat bite. Clay, instead, went low, shooting under me and grabbing hold of my good leg. My body came down on top of Clay. I spun my leg out of danger before he could tear at it. I went for his leg, right above the knee, but he too spun to safety.

  “Little slow?” Clay said. We both aimed high for the second go around. The air screamed out of our lungs as our bodies crashed into each other. His arms squeezed my ribs while our skulls bashed into the sides of one another. Clay pushed me into a block wall. I lost my balance as one my leg couldn’t hold both of us up. Clay got to his feet faster and went for my neck. I tucked my head in just enough time for Clay to rip a hole in my cheek. I was on my side and he was above me. I landed my first real bite on his front arm, holding on to it for a few seconds, long enough to tear off a patch of fur and skin and pull him off balance to the ground. We both got to our feet and clashed again. I got his ear and tried to tear it off.

  Clay wrapped his arms around my torso again and flung me to the ground. I crashed on my bad leg and it popped out of socket once more. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, I thought. Not now. Clay stepped back and shook off his arm that I’d gotten a hold of. I gingerly got back to my feet, but couldn’t put any pressure on my leg. I couldn’t charge him again. Clay knew I was done. He knew I couldn’t attack him with one leg. I could still defend, but when you’re fighting not to lose, even if you’re successful, you still don’t win. And in this fight, there was only going to be a winner.

 

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