Show and Tell

by Amy Shojai

  Now what? Claire threw back her head, and stared at the roof of the truck, then unbuckled her seat belt. She might have taken the car if Sunny had left the keys. She’d already broken into a house. If she didn't know better, she'd think Sunny meant to stall or even prevent Claire from finding the kids. Wind shuddered the car, and splashed a new deluge against the windshield.

  What had September told the P.I.? Maybe Sunny was a cop. Her stomach tightened. Claire only knew what she'd seen on television shows, but the woman's actions hit a sour note.

  Worry tainted everything with suspicion. Claire sighed, and gave herself a pep talk. "Can't do this alone, you have to trust somebody." She had to give Sunny the benefit of the doubt. She could be frustrated, too, just doing the best she could.

  Claire thumped her head against the headrest two or three times, as if the action would reset her brain. Then she sighed, considered the brightly lit store, and opened the door. Might as well make a potty stop while she could.

  Claire hurried to the toilet. She heard someone in the wheelchair accessible stall, and when she recognized Sunny's boots under the door, Claire silently entered the next stall and quietly closed the door.

  Sunny's hushed, angry voice echoed. "...Because I know you, Kelvin, I knew you'd get cold feet. And I can't let you screw this up for me. Damn straight, I threw you under the bus." She laughed quietly. "Do unto others before they do unto you. I've been a step ahead of you all the way. Yes, twenty thousand is a nice nest egg, but nothing compared to an additional ten thousand coming." Venom filled her voice. "Admit it. You planned to get me out of your nonexistent hair with this missing kid stuff, and it didn't work. Lucky for us both."

  Claire clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her surprised gasp. Claire prayed Sunny hadn't noticed her.

  She guessed not, because Sunny kept talking, tone increasingly sarcastic. "I'll tell you exactly what I mean. The kids you sent me to find? They're autistic." She paused. "Yeah, right, one hell of a coincidence. And get this. My guys saw the kiddo's van in the vicinity of tonight's show." She paused. "No, we're fine. The mom's clueless, but the kids know something. It's creepy-strange, as if they're on a mission. They drove themselves all the way from Chicago, for God's sake."

  Dropping her face into her hands, Claire breathed slowly through her open mouth while black sparkles danced before her eyes. She carefully sat down on the toilet, being extra careful to make no sound, afraid she'd faint if she didn't. Her pulse drummed so hot and loud in her temple she worried Sunny would hear.

  "Kids complicate things, but I got us covered." Sunny's anger had cooled to practicality. "I'll ditch the mom. No, I won't shoot her unless I have to. Miss Clueless can't hurt us."

  Claire's teeth began to chatter, and she clamped her jaw tight.

  "Why don't you do it?" She paused. "Oh, you're with the Doctor right now? Doesn't want to get his hands dirty, I guess." She snickered. "Sure, I'll drop off the mom, and reconnoiter the barn, secure the product and make sure the kids don't get in the way." Sunny paused. "Hell, they're kids, six and sixteen, and autistic besides. What can they do? You worry too much, Kelvin."

  Before she could change her mind, Claire slipped out of the stall and ran. The door banged open and closed, and she nearly knocked down the clerk on her way outside. She couldn’t tell the store clerk any more than she could call the police. It hadn’t sounded like a joke. Claire couldn’t make Sunny suspicious by calling a cab. Besides, Sunny knew where Tracy was.

  Claire dashed through the pouring rain and climbed back inside Sunny’s truck. She calmed her breathing, and practiced an innocent smile for when Sunny returned.

  "Didn't mean to take so long. You need to pee?" Sunny showed her teeth but the expression raised the hairs on the back of Claire’s neck. The truck pulled out of the parking spot.

  "I'm fine. Too worried about the kids, I guess." Claire cleared her throat when it squeaked. Water dripped from her coat, and she stammered. "I mean, I started to go in but saw you leaving. So I hurried back to the car." She forced a laugh. "Guess I got a little wet."

  Sunny stared, her face expressionless. She turned away, pressed the accelerator, and the car skidded as it peeled out of the lot.

  Chapter 25

  Shadow howled. His ears hurt. He shook his head to relieve the fullness, but stayed pressed next to September. He'd stay near even if she didn't have the leash so short he could barely move.

  A sudden burst of wind came from all directions at once. His whiskers tingled, and he flinched at the booming overhead noise. He tucked his tail, shivered, fighting the urge to squat and pee. Shadow shook his head again and his ears popped.

  Wind wailed, and tree limbs tore free to skitter across the ground like wingless beetles. He pushed against September, willed her to acknowledge him and maybe stroke his face. She always knew what to do.

  But she didn't touch him. Her arms cradled the other dog that smelled of black mud and sour terror.

  "Good-dog, Shadow, stay with me." Her voice jittered, squeaky and shrill, and made him shake in sympathy. She pulled him toward the distant stone house, beyond the chained dogs with distant hopeless eyes.

  All around, the roar increased while sky flashes made his skin tingle and fur crackle. September ran toward the chained dogs, tripped and caught herself, and galloped on, her hand tight on his leash. Shadow leaped by her side, eager to get inside.

  A familiar-sounding car engine roared and Shadow slowed, tugging against the leash. The horn beeped, cutting through the wind's howl, and September stumbled to a stop. They turned. A car headed toward them. September yanked his leash and he darted with her as she dove to the side of the road. September ran up to the car when it skidded to a stop. She had to yell over the roar of the storm. "Melinda, shove over."

  The driver's and rear doors swung open at the same time. September dumped the small dirty white dog into the front and took her place behind the wheel. Shadow leaped into his back seat. He wagged and slurped his friend Nikki across the face as the girl removed his leash, but dropped his ears when he noticed Steven. His-boy ignored him, though.

  The wind rocked the car, pushing it sideways on the road. September screamed. A gust hit the open door, and it peeled off the car. She screamed again, and then the car raced down the road, fast, and faster still, toward the stone house.

  A limb slapped the car, and the small dog yelped. Speeding, bucking, shuddering, the car shook Shadow back and forth like Bear-toy. Nikki and Steven screamed too, and clung to each other.

  "Hurry!" Melinda wailed from the front seat, and hugged the little dog so hard he squealed.

  Shadow snarled at the nightmare vision out the back window. A dark twisty cloud fell from the sky and snapped at the car.

  Rain and ice pounded the roof, sounding like many guns biting all at once. Shadow cringed. He watched wide eyed when September weaved through the doghouse barrels, aiming for the open barn door.

  One of the doghouses lifted off the ground and tumbled away, and a second quickly followed as though kicked by a giant invisible foot. Young ones cowered and cried, flinching as hail thumped all around and hit them repeatedly.

  Just as the car's nose poked through the barn door, a sonorous racket grew and the car lifted and smashed back down. Shadow wailed. He slammed against the side window, the new floor of the upside-down car. Nikki and Steven piled on top of him.

  "Out, everyone out. Away from the door, hurry." September's shaky voice shouted over the wind noise. She opened the passenger door, now above their heads, and help Melinda out first. September passed the little dog to the girl, and then helped Steven through the crushed front seats. September clambered out and levered open the back passenger door.

  "The dogs." Nikki's anguished voice rose over the wind.

  "No, Nikki. We can't help them. Give me your hand." September reached in and Shadow licked her fingers. Nikki turned away and wiggled into the rear of the car. The crash had unlatched the hatchback. "Nikki wait."

&nbs
p; "They’ll die." The girl squeezed out of the back of the car, hunkered down, and sprinted toward the chained dogs.

  Chapter 26

  The wind out-shouted September's screamed warning. She yelled again, but Nikki ducked her head and scurried to the first chained dog. She crouched beside the trembling youngster. The girl ignored the driving rain but flinched when the hail thumped the middle of her backpack. At least she had that minimal protection.

  "What's she doing?" Melinda hugged Kinsler while Steven simply stared, silent with wide eyes. "The tornado will get her, what's the matter with her?"

  "Go take cover. Go on." September gestured toward the dirt pit dug several feet deep in the center of the cement building. "Crouch down and cover your heads. Take Steven. I'm counting on you, Melinda. Go."

  Melinda grabbed Steven's hand, and still clutching Kinsler, she headed for the pit.

  September had to get Nikki to safety, but also protect Melinda and Steven. "Shadow, go-to Steven. Keep him safe." She gave him a quick hug, then squirmed into the crushed SUV. The car blocked the barn door completely. The only way out was through the open hatchback.

  Her knee whined when it cracked against the car but she didn't listen. September narrowed her eyes against flying debris. She prayed the hail wouldn't knock either of them unconscious, and dashed to the girl. She yanked Nikki's backpack to get her attention. The storm’s noise drowned out easy conversation.

  Nikki’s face reddened with frustrated effort. "I can't get it off." She screamed over the wind noise. "His collar's too stiff." The young tail-wagging Pit Bull pushed into Nikki's lap hampering her efforts.

  "You'll get us killed." She tugged Nikki's arm, but the girl wrapped her arms around the pup, refusing to leave. With frantic fingers, September struggled with the pup's collar, too, but it was hopeless. "We’d need to cut it." She dug in her pocket for the knife Shadow had knocked out of Cassie’s hand during the show-me game. Even with the sharp blade, it would take too long to saw through the stiff leather.

  Nikki's smile lit up her face. She reached into her knapsack, and pulled out Doc Eugene's bolt cutters.

  "What else you got in there?" September sheathed the knife back into her pocket with such force the blade sliced through fabric and caught in the padded batting lining. She took the bolt cutters from Nikki and cut the chain tethering the pup to the stake. "Now let's go."

  Nikki shook her head, and mouthed something September couldn't hear, pointing to the next dog, and the next.

  "Dammit! I'll do it. You go!" September waved the girl toward the barn when her screamed words tore away in the wind. She stood and grabbed Nikki by the arm, ready to drag her back, but the girl released her Pit Bull pup, pulled away and ran to the next dog.

  Had she been alone, she'd not hesitate to rescue the dogs, so September fought grudging admiration for Nikki. As the adult, she had to put kids first, no matter what.

  September sacrificed five seconds to consider options as the sky boiled black, and the swarming cicada-buzz grew deafening. Her ears popped with pressure change, but she couldn't tell the funnel’s location. Hell, it could be a mile away or directly overhead, flatten the barn and leave her untouched. No way to predict, no way to get Nikki away from the dogs, and no way she could abandon the foolish child. All you can do is the best you can do. A sudden calm filled her with purpose, and she raced with the bolt cutters to the next dog.

  Nikki soothed each dog and held collars steady for September's snick through the chain. At their release, the dogs slunk low to the ground, wagging and sticking close to their heels, either unaware of freedom or relishing the attention more.

  The last dog, a massive adult male with a scarred head as wide as his chest, leaned into her arms as September cut him free. "Back to the barn." The storm out-shouted her words, but Nikki understood when September waved the bolt cutter.

  The hail increased in size and velocity, pounding all around. The adult dogs, although frequently struck, made no sound but stayed close to Nikki and September as they hurried toward the shelter. An army of icy bullets machine-gunned the barn and Nikki squealed and covered her head. Then her arms dropped to her side, and the girl fell face forward onto the ground.

  September stumbled and fell, surprised when her knees splashed into soggy ground salted with the chunks of ice. The roar of the storm out-shouted anything she might say. Bright crimson sheeted from the girl's scalp where hail had clubbed her brow.

  The open rear hatch of the SUV beckoned. Before September could stagger upright to lift Nikki, Shadow leaped from the car and raced toward her. "No. Wait." Heart in her throat, September also gave Shadow the wait hand signal, and breathed again, when he skidded to a stop.

  The young Pit Bulls milled around her legs. At least the storm distracted them from aggressing toward each other, or Shadow. September had to get Nikki, herself and Shadow back through the SUV gateway. As she watched, one of the nearby dumpsters tipped over and blew hard against the barn, metal lid flapping like cardboard. The train-like chang-chang-chang-chang noise relentlessly approached. All but the scar-faced dog scattered.

  September grunted as she hefted Nikki over one shoulder. Shadow hesitated, and then disobeyed and raced to meet her.

  The Pit Bull eyed him, face and forelegs crisscrossed with a jigsaw puzzle of scars. Mangled ears pinned back, he offered a broken-toothed snarl, and stood foursquare braced and ready for a fight. Shadow put on the brakes but didn't take his eyes off the dog.

  "No. Shadow, stay with me." She couldn't hear her own voice, and prayed he’d listen. No time left. Must choose. Prevent the fight...protect the girl. . .

  The twister tore into view, uprooted trees like weeds and tossed the second dumpster across the yard. "Shadow, COME. Stay with me." Anguished, September left Shadow to race the last few yards to the SUV, pushed Nikki's limp figure inside, and turned back to watch. "Shadow. Shadow, come boy, baby-dog, come on. Pleeeeese . . ." Her throat shredded raw with screams, shielding her eyes from debris, she watched Shadow’s standoff from inside the SUV, willing her dog to run, run, return to her.

  The Pit Bull would take him down if he turned tail. Shadow knew it, too.

  The two dogs circled each other, Shadow backing away and turning his head as the older, more experienced fighter stalked him.

  She couldn't abandon him. Screw the storm. September grabbed the bolt cutters to race to Shadow's defense. Then Nikki stirred and started to wail, and clutched September’s arm.

  "Don't leave me. It's coming, it's coming, don't leave me!" Frantic eyes wide, blood streamed from the child’s sliced brow.

  September dropped the tool, and gathered the girl into her arms. "I'm here, hold on, we're going to be okay, hold on." More debris flew past the SUV’s open hatch. Shadow and the Pit Bull continued to circle each other.

  Lightening staggered across the sky accompanied by a simultaneous "boom." A tree branch barely missed the open hatch of the SUV. It impaled the cement wall of the barn. Another one might not miss. September strained to see, but the two dogs had disappeared.

  Baby-dog, stay safe, God I'm so sorry, please forgive me . . .

  September wept as she pulled the hatch closed and thumbed the key-fob lock, praying she'd not cut off Shadow's only chance for survival.

  Chapter 27

  The white dog scared Shadow more than the weird wind or thumping ice from the sky. The dog's body language threatened, and his tormented eyes and teeth promised pain.

  He ached to follow September and Nikki back to the cement building, but couldn't allow this danger-dog to chase them. Shadow weighed less but the shorter dog's muscles, scars and smells told stories of bloody conquests. Shadow didn't dare turn away. He had to be brave and strong and create a furry barrier between the warrior dog and September. Nobody told him to do that. He simply knew.

  Wind made it hard for a good-dog to hear. He strained to see September's progress. He wished he could smell or hear her but scent mixed together into swarms quickly scattered b
y rain. Ice hit him like Steven's fists during a rage, and Shadow winced and yelped with each blow. The white dog remained stoic and focused, though, ignoring cold thumps shooting from the sky, staring, staring hard at Shadow with pale eyes.

  Shadow knew this territory belonged to the other dog. Shadow wouldn't want strangers in his place, either. He turned his head, and lowered his tail. He backed away, edging closer to the barn and September. With her out of sight, he didn't feel quite as brave.

  The other dog stalked closer, snarling. His short white coat bristled, even the raw swollen wounds with little fur. He had only ragged stumps for ears, making it hard for Shadow to read his mood. The heavy chain swung from the dog's collar, and dragged furrows in the mud. He raised a forepaw, the leg crisscrossed with scars.

  Shadow’s brow wrinkled, he licked his lips and again turned away, a silent declaration: no threat. The white's close cropped ears and frantic tail said one thing while his offered paw contradicted the message. Shadow yawned, and backed away, his placating signals obvious.

  The other dog charged, stopped short, and placed the paw heavily across Shadow's shoulders. Close up, the dog’s sour stink of infection mixed with bitter rage.

  The dog lunged at Shadow's throat.

  Shadow ducked and whirled. A shattered tooth creased his skull and carved a ragged line down his cheek. Shadow snarled, his teeth snapped air, a warning despite the near miss.

  The sky boomed. Big metal boxes tumbled and lurched toward him. Shadow yelped and danced sideways, but the cacophony elicited not even an eyelash twitched from the white dog. He stalked relentlessly forward, ignoring or unaware of the tower of black smoke twisting at the far end of the road. It chewed up and spit out trees, stones, and dirt as it staggered forward. Shadow's ears felt stuffed, so full they might burst.