Dogchild

by Kevin Brooks

  I didnt know if the vision Ide just seen and the strange sense of timelessness had anything to do with whatever it was shede felt, and I wasnt sure I wanted to know either. But as it was, I never got the chance to find out anyway, because just at that moment – just as I was trying to work out what to say – the silence of the night was suddenly broken by a massive rumbling sound coming from the storehouse.

  Ide never heard anything like it before.

  It was a huge sound – low and heavy, like a roll of thunder or a continuous roar of gunfire – and it was getting louder all the time, filling the air all around us, crashing around our heads---and when it reached its peak – so loud now that lots of people were covering their ears, unable to bear it – the deafening roar began to pulse---up and down, up and down---like the sound of storm waves crashing on the shore---before eventually settling to a steady – but still massive – booming rumble.

  The towndogs were barking and howling, crazed with fear, and as the roar carried on throbbing away, shaking the ground under our feet, I suddenly realized what it was---or at least what it was supposed to be.

  It was all part of the deception.

  The truck was supposed to be engine-powered, and presumably a trucks engine would make a lot of noise. The throbbing roar was that noise – the sound of the trucks engine – and as the storehouse doors swung open, and the truck began to appear, I could see how the noise was being made. It was coming from a drum mechanism of some kind that had been set up on a metal frame near the doorway. The drum itself was a heavy-looking metal cylinder, about 5 feet in diameter and 7 feet long, with large metal handles on each end. It was fixed to an axle, allowing it to turn, and there was a Fighter at each end working the handles, spinning the drum. Metal struts had been fixed lengthwise along the drum so that when it rotated the struts clattered rapidly against a series of tightly sprung metal rods jutting out from the frame, and it also sounded to me as if there was something inside the drum – hundreds of metal bolts perhaps – rattling around as it turned. The crashing metallic clatter was being amplified and whirled around by the hollow cylinder, with the volume and tone being controlled by how fast and hard it was being spun. As the truck edged slowly out of the storehouse, for example, the 2 Fighters were spinning the drum quite steadily, but as the truck moved out into the yard and began to pick up speed, the Fighters worked faster, increasing both the volume and power of the engine roar.

  I had no idea how realistic the sound was – Ide never heard a truck engine – but I doubted if Hensch had heard one either, and if he could hear the roar of the drum from wherever he was – and it was easily loud enough to be heard from miles away – it could only help to convince him.

  The truck itself was even more convincing.

  Even at this distance it looked perfectly believable. It probably didnt look anything like a truck was supposed to, but as it rumbled along the far side of the yard, it looked to me as if it was more than capable of being driven across Nomansland into the Dau camp, and it also looked sufficiently well armored to protect it from rifle and machine-gun fire. It wasnt moving at any great speed, but it was moving fast enough, and – most importantly of all – it seemed to be moving under its own power. It had a driver, of course – a Senior Fighter called Herron – who was sitting up at the front, seemingly controlling the direction and speed of the truck, but there was no sign at all of any ropes or cables, or any other external means of propulsion, and there were even plumes of oily black smoke billowing out from a pipe attached to the engine compartment. As the mutant vehicle carried on lumbering around the yard, and the night air shook with a great rumbling roar, it wasnt hard to imagine that the truck had somehow been fixed and really was working properly.

  I knew that was impossible though.

  I knew it had to be an illusion.

  But it still took me a while to work out how it was being done.

  Eventually I realized that if the truck wasnt being pushed or pulled from the outside – and I was absolutely sure now that it wasnt – then it must be being propelled from the inside, and when I refocused my attention on the body of the truck and studied it closely for a while, I finally figured out how it was being moved.

  The answer was so simple it was almost childish.

  There were people inside the shell of the truck, pushing it along as they ran.

  There was no way of telling how many there were, but from the speed it was going there had to be at least 8 or 10 of them, if not more – and theyd no doubt be Fighters, chosen for their strength and fitness – and I guessed they were lined up 2 abreast, as centrally as possible, to avoid their feet being seen, and that they were probably harnessed to some kind of framework securely fixed to the body of the truck---

  It was ridiculous really.

  But it worked.

  And the Fighters inside were as good as invisible. Even though I was actively looking for them, all Ide seen was a very brief glimpse of moving bare flesh through a tiny gap in the false armor plating, and Ide never have seen that if Ide been any farther away. I certainly wouldnt have seen it if I was watching from a distance through nightvision glasses.

  The truck had stopped at the far end of the yard now. The engine pipe was still puffing out smoke – which I assumed was being controlled by Herron – and although the engine noise had dwindled to a low steady rumble, it hadnt completely stopped. 3 men came running out of the storehouse then, all of them carrying a variety of tools – large wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers. They crossed over to the truck, spoke briefly to Herron as he leaned out of the drivers compartment, then they split up and began examining the vehicle. One of them lowered himself to the ground, rolled over onto his back, and slid in underneath the truck. Another one opened up the engine compartment and pretended to work on something with a wrench. And the third one knelt down beside one of the giant cartwheels and tapped at the hub with a hammer.

  We knew what the 3 men were doing because Pilgrim had told us – they were pretending to check the brakes and gears – but as I gazed around at the crowds of townspeople watching from behind the cordon, I knew that most of them, if not all of them, didnt have a clue what was going on. In fact, now that the engine noise wasnt so thunderous, I could hear their confusion and frustration as well as see it, and I could hear it rising too – low mutterings getting louder, voices turning angry, 1 or 2 shouts beginning to cry out. Their frustration and anger was understandable. Here they were, witnessing this fantastical machine being paraded around the yard to the sound of a roaring drum, and they didnt know the first thing about it. No one had told them anything – what it was, what it was for, what it meant to them. It made me wonder how much longer Gun Sur could get away with keeping the battle plan secret.

  There he is, look, Chola Se said, nudging me and nodding her head in the direction of the storehouse.

  I thought she meant Gun Sur at first, but although the Marshal was visible when I looked over at the storehouse, it was Pilgrim she was talking about. He was standing with Gun Sur and a group of others watching the truck display from the doorway. All 3 Fighter Captains were there – Kite, Glorian, and Luca – together with Doctor Shiva and 5 of the 6 Council members. The missing Councillor was Cruke. Diedle and Sweet werent part of the group, but they werent that far away – standing together about 10 yards farther back in the storehouse – and it was clear they were aware of our presence.

  Both of them were looking directly at us.

  As the roar of the drum started up again, and the truck began moving – clumsily at first as it turned around, then more freely as it started heading back towards the storehouse – I saw Sweet approach Pilgrim and speak in his ear. Pilgrim listened, not taking his eyes off the truck, then he casually looked up at us, fixing our position straightaway. He turned back to Sweet and said something to him, and after a brief nod of acknowledgement, Sweet went back to Diedle. As he began talking to his brother, I saw Gun Sur saying something to Pilgrim. It looked like he was asking him a
question – Whats going on? Is there a problem? Pilgrim shook his head and waved his hand, assuring Gun Sur that everything was fine. Gun Sur didnt look totally convinced, glancing over his shoulder at Diedle and Sweet, but then Councillor Ghauri spoke to him, pointing at the truck, and the Marshal turned his attention back to the display.

  Chola Se nudged me again, wanting to draw my attention to something, but Ide already spotted it myself. Diedle was no longer standing beside his brother. Hede sidled away while Gun Sur was talking to Pilgrim. And now we could both see him coming out of a side door of the storehouse and making his way around the cordon, heading in our direction.

  We could have easily taken him on – it was 2 against 1, and we could see him coming all the way – but he was a Fighter, Deputy Pilgrims personal bodyguard---he was a figure of authority – and we were just dogchilds. If wede taken him on there and then, in front of the Marshal and his Captains and Councillors – and most of the towns population – wede never have got away with it.

  We both knew what we had to do.

  We climbed down off the pile of rubble, moved quietly out of the yard, and disappeared into the Eastside ruins.

  There are so many places to hide in the ruins that once Diedle had realized thats where wede gone, he didnt even bother coming after us. We hadnt gone far – wede taken shelter in the ruins of an outbuilding about 50 yards from the storehouse – and wede seen Diedle arriving at the pile of rubble. Hede stopped in front of it, looked around, then shouldered his rifle and drawn a revolver from a holster at his belt. It was a massive handgun – a Colt Python 357 Magnum with an 8-inch barrel – and even in Diedles huge hand it looked like a miniature cannon. Holding the gun at his side, he clambered up the pile of rubble, then stood at the top gazing across at the ruins, trying to work out where wede gone. After a minute or so he frowned to himself, scratched his head, then lumbered back down to the ground again. Intelligence wasnt his greatest asset, but he was smart enough to realize that if he followed us into the ruins he almost certainly wouldnt find us, and there was a reasonably good chance that he wouldnt come out again.

  He stood there for a few more minutes, halfheartedly looking around, but when the roar of the truck engine from the yard suddenly died, the unfamiliar crash of silence seemed to spur him into action, and he holstered his Colt, turned on his heels, and began heading back the way hede come.

  We waited quietly, watching him every step of the way until he was no longer in sight, then we carried on watching and waiting for another minute or so just to make sure he wasnt coming back.

  Do you think hese gone back to the storehouse? Chola Se said.

  Probably---for now anyway.

  She nodded, and we both went quiet again.

  We couldnt see the storehouse or the yard from where we were hiding, but we could see that the townspeople were beginning to leave now, heading back along the streets towards the center of town. There was still a lot of heated discussion going on – people complaining about not being told anything – but there were lots of Fighters around, and while they werent doing anything more than making their presence known, it was enough to keep the atmosphere relatively calm.

  We should go, Jeet, Chola Se said.

  She was right.

  We checked a final time to make sure Diedle wasnt around, then we left the demolished outbuilding and headed off into the night.

  Although we were reasonably confident that we werent officially outlaws yet – because Pilgrim would rather deal with us quietly if he could – we still couldnt be absolutely sure of our safety, so as we made our way across town to the Quarterhouse we kept to the backstreets as much as we could and made ourselves scarce whenever we saw any Fighters.

  When we got to the Quarterhouse – approaching it from a little alley on the east side of the Square – the Square and the streets all around it were completely deserted. The only sign of life we could see was a pair of Fighters – not Diedle and Sweet – standing guard at the main entrance, and a glint of candlelight showing through the shutters of a room on the second floor.

  Apart from that, there wasnt a soul in sight.

  We waited in the alleyway entrance, keeping our eyes on the Quarterhouse.

  Do you think theyre already in there? Chola Se said.

  I shook my head. They would have had to leave the storehouse straight after the display to get here before us, and there were too many angry people around for them to do that. I think they probably waited until the streets were clear before leaving. Theyle be here soon.

  What if Pilgrims not with them?

  I was just about to answer when we heard voices over to our left, and a moment later we saw Gun Sur and Pilgrim and the 3 Fighter Captains approaching the south side of the Square. We edged back into the darkness of the alley and watched as they crossed the Square and headed up the steps. As before, Diedle and Sweet werent actually part of the group but were following along behind them, and when the others went inside the Quarterhouse, the 2 brothers waited at the foot of the steps.

  We made ourselves as comfortable as possible, sitting on the ground with our backs against the alley walls – Chola Se facing the Quarterhouse, me facing her – and we settled down to wait.

  An hour later, we changed position.

  The towndog appeared half an hour later.

  It was a lone male, quite young, and it came from somewhere behind the Quarterhouse. He seemed unusually friendly for a towndog – perhaps because he was still just a juvenile – and instead of ignoring Sweet and giving him a wide berth as most dogs would, the young male began sidling up to the big Fighter. It was a very cautious approach, and clearly submissive – circling around, head low to the ground, tail between his legs – but there was no question the dog had friendly intentions. I could see the tip of his curled-up tail wagging, and his facial expression was that of a young dog seeking affection from a dominant elder.

  Sweet was having none of it though.

  First of all he swung a lazy boot at the dog, and when that didnt work – the dog scuttling away, then trying again – Sweet went a step further, lunging at the dog and swinging his rifle at him like a club. The dog dodged the blow with ease, skipping away from it with no trouble at all, but hede learned his lesson now and didnt try approaching the big Fighter again.

  Unfortunately, as he trotted off across the Square, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Sweet wasnt coming after him, the young dog caught our scent.

  He was almost level with the alley when it happened. I saw him freeze for a moment – a front leg half raised, his head turned our way, his snout angled upwards as he breathed in our scent and pinpointed its location – and then, with an added purpose to his movement, he was off again, this time heading straight for us.

  I glanced over at Sweet, hoping that he hadnt seen the dogs sudden change of direction, but I was out of luck. Although the Fighter showed no sign of alarm or suspicion, and was clearly only watching the dog out of boredom, the mere fact that he was watching it spelled trouble. The dog was about 20 yards from us now – close enough to see us – and while his growing excitement and curiosity probably wasnt obvious to Sweet just yet, it was only a matter of time before the young dogs reaction to us became so animated – circling us, yapping, bowing and prancing – that Sweet and Diedle were bound to suspect something.

  I couldnt let that happen.

  I dont know how I did what I did then.

  Whatever it was though, it came from the same place inside me – the same sense, the same part of me – that allows me to silence dogs, only this time when it came out of me and took me into the dogs heart, the feeling we had together wasnt just that we wanted to be quiet, we also wanted to keep away from the alley.

  And it worked.

  The young dog slowed to a halt and looked slightly puzzled for a moment – frowning to himself at his unexpected change of heart – and then, after a quick look around, he shrugged off his confusion, turned to his right, and started loping off towards t
he far end of the Square.

  How did you do that? Chola Se said quietly.

  I turned to her. Do what?

  You know what. She stared at me. I felt it happen, Jeet. I felt it coming from you. It was like---I dont know---like a ripple in the air, but in a different part of the air, a part that we dont usually see---She shook her head in quiet disbelief, and her voice lowered to a whisper. What did you do?

  Before I could answer her – or more likely not be able to answer her – our attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of the Quarterhouse door opening. Chola Se quickly shuffled over to my side of the alley, and we watched together as the 3 Fighter Captains came out of the building and headed down the steps. They were discussing something as they came down – Captain Glorian gesticulating with his hands, explaining some kind of maneuver – and as they neared the foot of the steps, where Diedle and Sweet were waiting, Captain Kite noticed the brothers and shot them a piercing look. Even from a distance the contempt in her eyes was unmistakable, and as the 2 Fighters dutifully shuffled away to a more respectful distance, she didnt give them a second glance.

  The 3 Captains carried on talking for a while when they reached the foot of the steps. The night was icy cold now, and as they stood there huddled together, with their shoulders hunched and their breath clouding in the frosted air, I tried to make out what they were saying. Their voices were just about audible, and I could tell that most of the talking was coming from Kite and Glorian, but apart from 1 or 2 words I couldnt hear enough to make sense of anything.

  They didnt talk for long – 2 or 3 minutes at most – then Captain Luca said goodbye to the other 2 and walked off towards the east side of the Square, and a few moments later Kite and Glorian moved off together in the opposite direction, before turning left at the corner of the Quarterhouse and disappearing around the side of the building.

  In the stillness of the night, the 3 sets of footsteps took a long time to fade away, but eventually we couldnt hear them anymore. We watched Diedle and Sweet resume their position at the foot of the steps, then we settled back and carried on watching and waiting.