by Tonia Brown
“Is he dead?” one man asked.
“I don’t think so,” another said. “Looks like he’s still breathing.”
“He is,” Dodger said between gasps. He took a few steps back, giving them ample room to see for themselves. “He should be fine. Might take a few minutes for him to come around, and his ego will be sore as hell, but otherwise, he’ll be fine.”
Two men moved in to confirm Dodger’s claims. Grumbles and mumbles rippled along the crowd. From the snatches of comments he caught, Dodger gathered that no one had really expected him to win.
Thaddeus joined Dodger, a smile ringing the man’s face as he half-asked, half-said, “You bested him?”
“I reckon I did,” Dodger said, still gasping. “Though you were right; he would’ve killed me given the chance.”
“You know what this means, don’t you?”
Dodger shook his heavy head, refusing to wear the offered crown. “I told you already. I’m not going to be your leader.”
“But you bested him. You earned it. You deserve the position.”
“I don’t want to lead you. I just want to offer you a choice.” Dodger turned to the crowd, now gathered in a tight clutch at the far end of the ring, staring down at their defeated leader. “The professor I travel with has promised to do all he can to help you. He will try his best to change you back into what you once were. If he can’t change you back, then he might be able to help stabilize your condition.”
The ex-soldiers whispered amongst themselves, and Dodger could see they still didn’t trust him. Perhaps he had spoken over their heads. Or perhaps they didn’t realize how unstable their genetic code was. Some of the men seemed like they wanted to join him, but they held back, watching him with wary eyes. One of them stepped out of the crowd, and Dodger recognized him as the man who’d delivered Butch’s ominous invitation.
“If you ain’t gonna lead us, then who will?” Bottle asked.
“I’m still in charge here!” Butch roared.
The men surrounding Butch broke apart in a wave of panic as the bulldog leapt to his feet, ready for another ten rounds. But this time, instead of baring his knuckles and fangs, Butch bore a gun.
Boon’s presence rushed upon Dodger, filling his mind. Watch yourself; he’s armed.
“Yeah,” Dodger said as he raised his hands. “I can see that.”
He must’ve snatched it from one of his men.
“Butch, what are you doing?” Thad asked. “You lost. He beat you fair and square.”
“Weren’t nothing fair in what he done!” Butch hollered. “He tricked me. Used some kind of fancy handhold. A coward’s grip.”
“He still won. You were down far longer than a count of ten. This is over.”
“It isn’t over until he stops breathing,” Butch spat. He set the pistol to fire, aiming for Dodger’s head. “Are you ready to die now?”
Shall I instruct Ched to fire?
“No,” Dodger said, answering both questions.
“Too bad,” Butch said.
“But he bested you!” Thad shouted.
Butch turned the gun on Thad. “Shut up or I’ll shoot you first.”
Thad swallowed hard, but said nothing.
A different voice begged, “Don’t, Butch. You don’t have to kill him.”
Everyone’s attention swung to the sound of the new voice.
Into the ring hobbled the one-legged ex-leader of the Pack. He limped along with the help of a wooden crutch until he stood side by side with Thad.
“You don’t have to kill him,” Jack said. “You can loot his train and take whatever you want, but you don’t have to kill him.”
Butch turned the gun on him. “Shut up! I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” Jack straightened to his full height, going from a hunched old man to a towering hulk. A one-legged hulk, true, but an impressive hulk nonetheless. “Before you took over, we never used to kill folks. Rob a little here and there, sure. Take what we needed to survive. But to kill a man just because he’s not a monster like us? There’s no respect in that. There never was, and there never will be.”
“He’s right,” Thad said. “We used to have some dignity. Now we are no better than a pack of wild dogs.”
The crowd hung their collective heads, unable to face one another at that claim. Thad had struck a deep and tender nerve with his assertion. Dodger only hoped the poor guy hadn’t condemned himself in the process.
Butch kept the weapon tight on the pair. “You think this man can lead us better than me?” He spat the word ‘man’ with a thick disgust.
“He bested you without maiming you,” Jack said. “Or killing you. That’s a good start.”
“If he bested me, then why is he the one cowering? Why is he not on this side of the gun? I’m still in charge here. I’m still the Pack Leader.” Butch waved the weapon at a few of his bulldog brothers. “Take the man to my tent. Tie him to that bitch of his. I’ll deal with him later. But you two …” Butch stopped to give Jack and Thad an evil grin. “You two I’ll deal with now.”
“Don’t drag them into our fight,” Dodger said as he approached Butch. “We can still do this-”
Bright starbursts exploded all about Dodger as pain blossomed across the back of his head. Next thing he knew, someone snatched him up by the shoulders and feet, and hustled him away from the ring. Before the darkness claimed him completely, the distinct sound of a gunshot rang clear through the early evening air.
Followed by another.
Then all went black.
****
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Chapter Eight
Strangers United
In which Dodger finds help in unexpected places.
For some time, all was darkness. He had no way of knowing how long, because he was enjoying it far too much. The very same darkness he always loved cradled him to her bosom, soothing his aches (which were many) and his worries (which were plentiful) and his fears (which were embarrassingly abundant). He swam for awhile in that blessed darkness, tracing lazy circles in the cool calm of his secret heart.
All was tranquil. All was peace.
Until a voice brought him back around. It threatened to pull him from his sea of black and shove him into that unbearable light of being. He tried to ignore it and sink into the arms of his dark mistress once more, but no, the voice was persistent. And soft. And feminine.
“Get up,” a woman whispered.
Dodger groaned as he lolled his head to one side, then the other.
“Are you awake yet?” the woman asked.
He was jostled from behind, someone pushing against his back in an attempt to rouse him. Clouded with the fog of sleep, Dodger wasn’t sure where he was, much less who he was. Nor to whom the voice belonged. Was it a lover? Did he overdo it last night? And, even more important, why did his nose hurt so damned much? He cracked an eye and peered over the swollen bridge of his aching proboscis. Oh yes. Now he remembered. That bastard Butch busted his nose. It all tumbled back to him then: Bulldog Butch coaxing him out to the Gap, the challenge Dodger so foolishly made, Jack and Thad meeting their doom in defense of him. He closed his eyes again and groaned at the racing memories.
“Say something,” the woman demanded.
“What should I shay?” Dodger asked in an almost drunken slur.
“Great Ganesha, you almost sounded like Ched.”
At the odd choice in curse and the reference to his fellow crewmember, Dodger at last recognized the woman’s voice. “Miss Lelanea?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “But keep your voice down. I don’t want them to know you’re awake yet.”
Dodger tried to raise his hands but found his arms bound behind his back. In a whisper, he asked, “Where are we?”
“In the leader’s tent,” she whispered. “Butch is his name?”
“Right.” Dodger glanced around the dimly lit room, to the beat up cot and worn trunk and various broken-down camping equip
ment strewn about the place. “And where are you?”
“I’m behind you.”
He felt a wiggling at his back, confirming her claims. Pushing against her, Dodger leaned against the form of something solid dividing them.
“Don’t jostle too much,” she warned. “We’re bound to the center support pole for the tent. If we pull at it, the whole thing will collapse and they’ll know we are trying to escape.”
“Clever,” he said.
“I imagine it was quite by accident. Butch doesn’t seem like the clever sort. How he stays in charge is beyond me.”
“You don’t need brains when everyone’s afraid of you.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“In a way, yes. Are you well? Have they harmed you in any way?”
“Me? I’m peachy. Took three of them to get me here, wherever ‘here’ is. Aside from being rough handled on that little trip, I remain unmolested. They may not be clever, but they’re smart enough to keep their hands off of me.”
“Good.” It appeared Thad was a man of his word.
“What about you, Mr. Dodger? Hopefully that maniac didn’t harm you beyond repair.”
He started at the name. “How do you know me as Dodger?”
“Why? Isn’t that your name? Or am I supposed to pretend you’re Arnold Carpenter? Or is Rodger Dodger your fake name and Carpenter the real one? I just wish you would pick one and settle on it, because this is getting very confusing.”
“No, my real name is Dodger. But … how did you know?”
Lelanea tittered softly with a mocking laugh. “Are you kidding? I overheard them gossiping. Yap. Yap. Yap. They’re worse than a bunch of women. The great Rodger Dodger is the talk of the camp. Those morons can’t go for five minutes without mentioning you. Dodger should be our new leader. Dodger is the answer to all of our prayers. Dodger got his rump handed to him by Butch.”
Dodger leaned toward the tent flap, listening as best he could, but all he got was a jumbled bunch of incoherent mumbles. “And you can hear all of that? From in here?”
He felt her stiffen against him as she stammered, “Well … I … I mean … sometimes they come closer to the tent. And when I wasn’t tied to someone who snores like a hyena in heat, I heard a few things. In passing.” Lelanea huffed. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Trying to rescue you.”
“Rescue me? What part of this is a rescue, Mr. Dodger? The part where you challenge that hulking beast to a wrestling match when he so obviously outweighs you? Or the part where you get your nose broken? Or maybe it’s the part where you get yourself hogtied to the very woman you’re here to liberate? Please, enlighten me. Because I’m having a fairly difficult time discerning just where the rescue ends and your failure begins.”
Ched’s words came back to Dodger in a flash of truth. The girl not only had the Devil in her, she stored a fair amount of venom there too. “This ain’t over. No, ma’am, it’s far from over. I’ll have you out of here and back to your uncle before you can say thank you. I promise.”
“No offense meant, Mr. Dodger, but I stopped relying on the promises of others a very, very long time ago.” There was an edge to her voice, an aged perception that spoke with wisdom far beyond the young woman’s years.
“In that case, I apologize and withdraw my promise.”
She gave a very unladylike snort. “Typical man.”
“Instead, I’ll guarantee I’ll get you out of here. Is that better?”
Lelanea gasped, ever so softly, then fell into a brooding silence. Dodger smiled, pleased at himself for rendering her speechless. In her silence, he started to wriggle, and as he did, he could sense the ropes slacking in their hold. At this rate, he might be free in under an hour. He just hoped they had that much time. As it stood, he couldn’t be sure how long he’d been out for, but judging by the dim light of the tent, he believed the sun had long since set.
“What are you doing?” she finally asked.
“Wiggling.”
“I can feel that. We’re tied too tightly, you know. It won’t do any good.”
“It’s been my experience that most ropes are more elastic than they’re given credit for. If you keep on moving-”
“It will loosen?”
“Yes. Eventually.”
“But the center pole will-”
“Be fine as long as I don’t thrash about. Trick is to pull a little, then relax. Pull a little. Relax.” Dodger did just that, hoping she could sense his movements and get the idea. “I can get out of this if I have enough time. And some help.”
“Of course.” Lelanea joined in his efforts as she began to gently squirm behind him. “I feel so foolish. I could have been loosening the rope this whole time.”
“Not at all. It’s natural to just sit still. After all, you’re tied up. Where you gonna go?”
“It’s just silly, when I think of all the times I’ve been lashed to something. I have my own means of escaping, usually. But it’s nice to have an alternative.”
“This happens a lot to you, then?”
“More than I would like.”
“And how do you usually escape?”
“Now, you don’t expect a woman to reveal all of her secrets. Do you?” They wiggled a bit more before she asked, “How about you?”
“How about me?”
“You sound like you have some experience with bondage.”
“I’ve been tied up a few times by hands both cruel and kind, but I’m no expert on the topic.”
“So you’re saying that you don’t learn from experience.”
“No, I’m saying that I also get my hair cut from time to time, but I have yet to call myself a barber.”
Dodger chuckled.
Lelanea did not.
“Don’t presume that I enjoy this sort of thing,” she said. “It’s just a side effect of living with Uncle in this forsaken land you call home. Every Tom, Dick and Harry out here seems to think the woman is an easy target for ransom.”
He grinned to himself as he wriggled. “And here I thought it was just my charming company that got you into this mess.”
Lelanea stopped moving. “Is that what you think? That this is all about you?”
“Well, sort of. But this can be about you if you prefer. Now get to wiggling. We need to get you out of here before they get the nerve to approach the train. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let them loot the thing my first day on the job.”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “You just don’t get it. This isn’t about you. Or me. Or the Sleipnir. This is about my uncle.”
“The doc?” Dodger asked as he too fell still.
“You really have no idea what’s going on here. Do you?”
Rather than admit his ignorance, he said, “How about you explain it to me?”
Lelanea’s voice dropped to a husky whisper. “That big man isn’t in charge here. He may act like it, but it’s all for show. Someone else is pulling his strings.”
“I’m not surprised. Butch doesn’t have enough brain cells to rub together to start a fire, much less spark a cognizant thought.”
“Yes, well his little coup wasn’t even his idea. He was instructed to rise up and challenge the last Pack leader. To bring these men out to this place. To capture me and lure you here. All so they could get their hands on Hieronymus. Butch and his fellow bulldogs were ordered to capture my uncle and destroy the train and everyone aboard.”
Dodger thought there was something funny about the way their particular breed set themselves apart when compared to the unity of the other dog-men. “Ordered? By whom?”
“I’m not sure. Whoever he is, their fear of the man is absolute. They won’t even speak his name. They act as if he might be summoned by their words alone.”
“And you gathered all of this through eavesdropping.”
“Yes.”
“These men, these soldiers just stood around outside the tent, gossiping about sensitive information? In front
of a prisoner?”
“Well … maybe not right outside the tent … look, the important thing is that I heard them. Okay?”
“I don’t doubt you did. I’m just not sure how.”
“The point is something much broader than a train robbery is going on here. We have to get back to the Sleipnir before they get to my uncle. I’m afraid they will kill him if given the chance.”
“They will kill him,” Thaddeus Walker said.
Dodger was surprised to see the familiar figure crawling under the back edge of the tent. “You’re alive? I heard gunshots. I thought Butch shot you.”
“Not me,” Thad said as he raised himself to a crouch. “The shots you heard were meant for Jack. One to kill him, and once more for good measure.” He scooted across the tent and began the task of untying the well-worked knots. “I was sentenced to a slow death in the hole. But you saved me.”
Dodger wasn’t sure what nonsense the man was spouting. “Saved you? I lost against Butch and got Jack killed and-”
“And you started a revolution among the men. Their trust for Butch is slipping. A few of them freed me from the hole, and now we are here to free you and your mate.”
Lelanea huffed. “I am not his-”
“I’m sorry to have put you in this position,” Dodger said over her anger.
“I’m not,” Thad said. “This explosion has been a long time coming. You just provided the spark that lit the fuse.”
The ropes slithered away from Dodger, dropping to the floor and allowing him movement again. He scrambled to his feet and rubbed at his tender wrists while a very unnerved Thad attempted to untie Lelanea.
“Get your pea-picking paws off me,” she snapped.
“Best let me,” Dodger said.
Thad backed away, relief washing over him as he allowed Dodger the task.
