Raphaela's Gift

by Sydney Allan

  With hands cupped around her eyes to block out the morning sun's glare, she peered inside.

  It was dark, but she spied lights. Small, reflective... "Oh my God!" she whispered. "Those aren't lights. They're eyes. Dozens of them."

  "What do you see?"

  Hailey motioned Amy to the window. "You have to see this."

  "What?" Amy struggled through, over, and around the obstacles between them. "What is it?"

  "Animals. Lots of them. Look!"

  Amy peered in.

  "See those shiny things--they look like lights, but they move. They're eyes."

  "Oh." Amy dropped her hands. "What do we do now? We can't get all the animals out by ourselves. Even if we could, what would we do with them?"

  "We have to call the authorities."

  "What about the dog?" Another round of yips and howls sounded from inside as though the dog knew what they were discussing.

  "We can't go inside. We have no idea what we're dealing with. Those eyes could belong to wild dogs."

  "In Los Angeles?" Amy's eyebrows raised behind her blond bangs.

  "Hey, you never know. I saw packs of wild dogs in Detroit."

  "Well, we have to do something. I'm going to try to get it out. I think the door's unlocked." Amy started toward the front.

  She didn't get far before Hailey caught her by the arm. "I can't stop you, since this isn't an official work trip, but I think you're making a mistake. Why don't we think about this for a minute? We can go back to the car and call the police. They'll be here in--"

  "We're in Los Angeles. You've been living in Sequoia Valley too long, forgotten how slow the police can be in a big city. Especially for calls like this. They could take hours to respond."

  Hailey hadn't considered that. Amy was right, although the slam about her small-town mentality stung a little. The police had more pressing matters to attend. Time was something she couldn't spare today. She felt bad enough missing the whale rescue, but missing the appointment with Mrs. Barrington...no way she could afford that. "Maybe we can find a neighbor to help--" She stopped as Amy swept her arms in a wide circle. There wasn't another building in sight--at least nothing habitable for a human. A few dilapidated boathouses sat at the water's edge, hanging over the shallow bay waters. Nothing else.

  Hailey sighed. "Okay. But let me take the risks. At least I'm insured."

  Amy rolled her eyes but smiled. "Whatever you say."

  Hailey drew in a deep breath, relishing for a moment the sting of the salt hanging in the air and its lingering tang, wishing it would ease her rising fear. The jarring premonition that something bad was about to happen made her heart thump. She sucked in another deep gulp of air.

  After finding the door unlocked, Hailey pulled it open slowly, standing to the side in case an animal charged from the inky blackness within. Nothing happened.

  "Here poochy, poochy, poochy," she called, removing the meat from her pocket and waving it inside the doorway. When no dog appeared, she knew she'd have to go inside.

  Her footsteps echoed as she stepped through the entry, and scratches sounded all around, suggesting dozens of animals skittering in the darkness. The stench of death and sickness turned her stomach, and ammonia burned her eyes. They blurred instantly, making it even harder to see.

  Leash in hand, Hailey fought the urge to touch her face with her gloves, grimy from cleaning dog kennels and past rescues. Instead, she blinked away the wetness and struggled to control her overactive gag reflex.

  No mistaking that smell. Cat urine. The warehouse could belong to a cat collector, or the cats could be strays. She'd know if she could see. If she found food dishes or litter boxes, she could safely assume the animals were pets. Removing a glove, she fumbled along the wall, searching for a light switch. Her fingertip brushed against something that felt promising.

  Snap.

  A flood of white light blinded her. She blinked and squinted for a moment to accustom her eyes. Once they adjusted, she scanned the building's interior and gasped.

  In twenty-eight years of life, and five years of animal rescue, she'd never seen anything like this--and she'd seen some hellholes.

  The warehouse was trashed. Animal feces and matted hair coated the walls, floors and windows. Hundreds of cats, their coats filthy, their glowing eyes fixed, huddled on top, between and under boxes.

  The place was a disease den. Her skin itched. The tiny feet of imagined insects crawled over her.

  "Do you see the dog yet?" Amy asked from the doorway. "God, it reeks in here! And is that? Poop? Nasty!"

  "I love my work. I love my work," Hailey repeated. A chant she'd adopted recently, as enthusiasm began to slip away. Her work was noble, did people and animals a huge service. It was rewarding to see an animal adopted into a new home and enjoy a new life.

  What more could she want?

  She approached the brown smeared window at the building's back, tripping on overflowing litter boxes, empty food dishes, soiled rags and cardboard containers. Spellbound, she stared beyond the trash-overrun yard. Such a short distance away, the ocean kissed the land.

  Her new life lay at that juncture.

  A shout from behind jolted her to the present, and she glanced at her watch. No time for reverie. A malnourished dog, and who knew how many cats, needed her. Her dreams would have to wait a few more hours.

  "I found it," Amy called from the building's opposite side. She tipped her head toward a shadowed corner as Hailey neared. "The dog looks bad. I got a quick look before it hid again. I think it's a she, and I think she's pregnant, though she's skinny as hell."

  "Darn," Hailey whispered before stooping down. With a soft voice and the sausage, she managed to lure the dog, barking, yet timid, from its hiding place.

  Amidst unmentionable filth stood the black, mangy dog. Every rib showed. Hipbones and vertebrae protruded under a dull coat, making Hailey want to scream in rage. The dog shivered, its head held high, but its stubby tail remained tucked against its rump.

  "Pathetic," Amy whispered.

  "Problem is, she won't come out of here. I can tell from the way she's standing. She'd rather fight us than leave this dump."

  "You'd think she'd jump at the chance."

  "I know," Hailey said as she studied the dog's body a second time. "It's hard to understand, but I'm not surprised. She doesn't know who we are, or what we're going to do. Poor thing." The abdomen was swollen. Either the dog was pregnant, or she was sick. "We have to get her to a vet, but I don't think the leash'll work. I didn't bring any control sticks. Didn't think we'd need them for a whale rescue." She searched the room. "I looked in this corner once. I wonder where she was hiding."

  "In there, I think." Amy motioned toward a small hole in the back wall.

  From Hailey's position, she couldn't tell where the opening led. "I definitely don't want her to go back in there. We'd have to knock the wall down to get to her." She waved the sausage closer to the animal, pleased when the dog's nose lifted to sniff the air. Ever so slowly, the fearful animal crept closer, desperation in its eyes.

  As Hailey peered into the dark depths, her heart raced. "Come on, baby. We won't hurt you."

  The dog froze and stared at her. Then, like a viper, the animal lunged at the meat, snatching the tidbit from Hailey's fingertips and scrambling over the rubble to disappear through the hole in the wall.

  "Damn!" Hailey stood.

  "We're going in after her, aren't we?"

  "No, I think we should call the local authorities. If she can move that fast, she can't be so bad off." Hailey glanced at her watch, certain it was malfunctioning. Precious minutes flew by at quantum speed. "I have to get back to the hotel."

  "But we can't leave the dog here. What if it gives birth? This place is a hellhole, too hot for puppies."

  "I know, I know." Hailey silently admitted she wouldn't be giving up if she didn't have the appointment with Mrs. Barrington. "But it's tough on animals that don't want to be rescued. The process coul
d upset the dog--make her vulnerable to injury or early labor." Hailey knew how bad that sounded, a cheap excuse.

  Yes, the dog's situation tugged at her heartstrings, but she couldn't afford to be late.

  However, when Amy's doe eyes turned her resolve to mush, Hailey murmured, "Okay. We'll go ahead, try to catch her, but we only have fifteen minutes. If we don't have her by then, we'll call animal control and let them take over."

  Amy smiled. "Once we get Mommy Dog checked out by a vet, I'll keep her in my room at the HoJo's."

  "You won't get an argument from me about that, especially since we're not sharing a room." She sighed, feeling like she owed Amy an explanation. "If only I hadn't scheduled the appointment. Stupid! After five years of this, I should have known nothing goes according to plan."

  "Don't worry, we'll get back to the hotel in plenty of time."

  The thud of Amy's boot striking wood sent guilt, and then determination, through Hailey. Darn it all! Hailey was no less stubborn than that animal. She could get the obstinate dog out of that hole.

  And when she did, she'd name it Jensen. After all, the animal could be her twin.

  With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she helped Amy, kicking until the hole was wide enough to wiggle through. She sidestepped down the narrow corridor inside, some kind of hallway between the wood inside wall and the metal outside one, whistling and calling. The heat in the tiny area was stifling, worse than the ninety-plus degrees outside, making her lightheaded.

  Jensen lay at a dead end, upon a pile of shredded rags and paper. A low growl rose from her throat. When her teeth bared, Hailey drew back.

  "You mean business," Hailey whispered, dropping to a squat and slowly offering her hand. "Come on, Jensen. I'm not going to hurt you. This place is awful. Let me take you out of here. We'll give you a nice soft bed and a safe place to have your babies." Then a squeak told her what she hadn't expected. "She's already had the pups--at least some of them," she called to Amy, whom she assumed was waiting outside. "It's going to be tough getting her out of here."

  "It's hotter than hell--," Amy said behind Hailey, catching her off guard and making her jump.

  The dog lunged forward, her teeth bared, a savage growling bark warning her back.

  Hailey fell on her bottom and threw her hands over her face. Teeth clamped onto her forearm, and she swallowed a feral howl. She knew nothing but the tug of strong jaws as her heart hammered out ten, fifteen, twenty beats.

  Then Amy screamed.

  Hailey tucked her head lower. The dog hadn't bit down completely, but it had a firm hold. She couldn't look up, didn't wish to aggravate the animal and welcome a more vicious attack. Never had she felt so powerless and out of control.

  And never before had she vowed to quit rescue for good.

  Between growls and snarls, she listened to her breathing, gasping fast and hard. Her arm grew numb, and she guessed the dog's teeth had punctured the skin, or at least left huge bruises.

  And then the pressure eased.

  Hailey heard panting, nothing more. Her arm throbbed. Reluctantly, she raised her head, knowing she could fall prey to another attack if she made direct eye contact with the dog.

  Two dark eyes met hers.

  A strange energy charged between them.

  Hailey braced herself, cowering behind her good arm. But the expected didn't come. Instead, as she dropped her hand, she caught the dog turning and nestling down with the tiny sleeping pups.

  Scared, knowing she should back away, and yet strangely drawn toward the animal, Hailey leaned forward and reached to the dog. She was crazy. She knew it. But for some reason, she believed they'd connected.

  Gut reaction or possibly the effects of shock?

  "It's okay. I'm here to help you." She slipped the leash she'd dropped in her lap over the dog's neck then glanced at the tiny pups, still wet from birth. "You're protecting your babies. A good mother. But we're going to take you somewhere safe and clean." She reached to the nearest pup, but when a low growl promised more of what she'd just received, she paused and instead offered her hand to the dog again.

  "Are you okay?" Amy whispered.

  Hailey nodded.

  "I have the carrier for the puppies."

  Hailey slowly turned. "Thanks."

  "Oh, my God!" Amy gasped, her lips milky white. "Your arm!"

  Hailey refused to look down, despite the steady throb coursing from her wrist to elbow. "I'm fine." She took the carrier from Amy and returned to her task. "What time is it?"

  "Quarter to eleven."

  Darn! "You'd better leave. I don't want to upset the dog more." Once she heard Amy's retreating footsteps, she gathered some loose bedding and dropped it in the carrier, then reached for a puppy, reassuring the mother dog as she lifted it. "Easy, Jensen. We're going to help you."

  The puppy was shivering and limp. Worried about heatstroke, Hailey carefully placed it in the box, then reached for the next one. Before long, she had four wet and shaking puppies, near death, in the carrier, and an apprehensive dam beside the container, alternately peering in and pacing.

  Hailey stood, handed the carrier through the hole to Amy, and led the dog outside to the car.

  Only after Amy started the car and drove down the street, did she look at her arm. She saw a brief flash of red then stars. She dropped her head between her knees.

  So much for the meeting. Hopefully Tonya Barrington would have an opening in tomorrow's schedule.

  "The hospital is only five minutes away," Amy said, after calling the local police station about the cats remaining in the warehouse. "You did the right thing. Thanks."

  Hailey didn't respond. The soft whimper of a puppy said it all.

  As soon as her head cleared, she asked for the phone and called Mrs. Barrington to reschedule. Luckily, the woman had an opening first thing tomorrow morning. Hailey apologized once more, thanked her and hung up.

  Tomorrow, nine o'clock, her dreams would either become a reality or be dashed. She didn't know which was more frightening.

  About Sydney

  Sydney Allan is the alter-ego of erotic romance author Tawny Taylor. Like Tawny’s books, Sydney’s stories are sexy, and sassilicious. The only difference-- Tawny’s characters get to play in dungeons.

  But that doesn’t mean they get to have all the fun...

  Sydney, an animal lover, has fostered dozens of stray and neglected animals for the Michigan Humane Society, and is currently proud parent to three rescued dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and several toads.

  Sydney’s website

  Also By Sydney

  Rescue Me

  About Monday (writing as Tami Dane)