by J. S. Bailey
“How are we going to see where Randy is?”
“Easy. I’m going to climb on top of the car and hope I can see over all that crap.”
“That’s not going to look suspicious.”
Bobby didn’t have the energy to work up a retort. He checked the street for oncoming traffic, climbed out onto the pavement, and prayed that his legs would stop shaking.
If only this could have been at night instead. Not all of the houses were hidden behind hedges. Any number of people could be watching him from gaps in the curtains.
Any number of them could be connected to the trafficking ring with which Jack Willard worked.
Setting aside his fear for Adrian’s sake, Bobby scrambled up onto the hood of his Nissan.
Dread began to build inside of him: the start of a premonition.
Randy’s face flashed through his mind.
He took a deep breath and crawled onto the car’s roof, hoping he wouldn’t slip off. He got his feet under him and wobbled a bit as he slowly stood. Heart pounding, he scanned the properties on the other side of the street.
Disappointment smothered his hopes.
He still couldn’t see over the hedges.
His sense of urgency increasing, he slid out his phone and dialed Randy’s number.
Randy picked up before the phone had the chance to ring in Bobby’s ear. “Where are you?”
Bobby’s heart thudded. “I’m standing on the roof of my car. There’s a bunch of hedges blocking the view, so I can’t see you. I—I think you might be in danger. Be careful, okay?”
“Great.” Randy’s voice sounded flat.
“There’s a few houses it could be. All I can see is their roofs, and they all have the same gray shingles.” The residences hidden behind the hedges had paved driveways also lined with hedges, and it looked like the driveways curved around behind the houses so that nobody on the street would be able to see anyone getting out of their cars.
Very fishy.
He relayed this information to Randy, who said, “Ah, the benefits of tract housing. Do you want me to jump the fence and walk out to the end of the driveway? It’ll be a bit of a drop, but I’ll manage.”
Terror slammed into Bobby’s gut so hard he almost toppled off the roof and onto the ground. “No, don’t! If you do that, something bad is going to—”
Randy’s voice was firm. “Short of renting a helicopter and flying over the place to scope it out, this is the only way for you to be absolutely sure you’ve got the right house.”
“But if you do that, you’ll—”
“Die?” He gave a soft laugh. “Then come save me.”
A click told Bobby that Randy had ended the call.
Crap.
There was no time to explain to Carly and Lupe what was going on. The adrenaline surging through Bobby’s veins made him feel like he could run a marathon, which was strange considering that Bobby rarely ran at all.
He leapt down from the roof and raced to the opposite sidewalk. “Don’t let anything bad happen to him,” he prayed.
Bobby chose a driveway at random and raced down it, feeling like he’d entered a short maze. The hedge-lined driveway made a sharp left, and he ground to a halt when he heard the vicious barking of dogs close by.
A startled cry behind him sent chills down his spine. He was at the wrong house!
He dashed back to the cracked sidewalk running past the properties and raced down the next driveway, which appeared virtually identical to the first.
As he rounded the corner, the breath left his lungs. Randy had his back pressed against the fence, which he had evidently jumped with greater ease than Bobby had expected, and four growling retriever-sized mutts wearing red collars prevented him from going anywhere.
Randy had pulled out his knife.
Like that was going to help him.
“Just go,” Randy said, and at first Bobby thought he was talking to the dogs. “You know this is the place. I’ll keep these guys distracted while you call the cops.”
Another surge of fear told Bobby that Randy wouldn’t see the light of another day if Bobby chose that course of action. One of the dogs took a step closer to Randy, its growl deepening in its throat. All four looked ready to spring at a moment’s notice.
“You don’t trust the cops,” he said.
Randy threw him a pleading look. “In this situation, you don’t have any other choice but to call them.”
Bobby gritted his teeth. This should not be a zero-sum game. He did not need to choose between saving his mother and saving his friend.
He was Bobby Roland, God’s chosen Servant. He would find a way to do both.
The Spirit gave him a surge of courage, and Bobby withdrew the borrowed knife from his pocket.
He really wished he didn’t have to do this.
Randy had already caught on. “Bobby, don’t. I don’t want you to turn into dog food.”
“I don’t want you to turn into dog food, either.” He took four steps closer to the dogs and halted when two of them broke away from the others and faced him. Sweat trickled down his scalp. All those sharp teeth…
“Better me than you. I’m not the Servant anymore. I can die in peace.”
More like dying in pieces.
Bobby’s two new canine friends growled at him, and he almost lost his nerve. What was one knife going to do against two attack dogs?
A warm sensation filled him then, and he knew it was the Spirit giving him the signal to go.
“Sorry,” he whispered as he lunged at the dog on the left, blade extended.
Bobby had never enjoyed killing things. Even as a child Jonas had made fun of him when he found himself too squeamish to even smash a house centipede that raced around their living room one night like a thirty-legged escapee from hell.
His squeamishness hadn’t stopped him from beating the stuffing out of Rory Wells all those years ago, though. And it hadn’t stopped him from snatching up the fireplace poker and racing around the yard at his old rental bungalow in search of phantom prowlers.
Drawing on that ruthlessness, he tried to stab at the canine’s throat, but he wasn’t fast enough. The dog clamped its jaw onto his hand and shook it with a violence Bobby hadn’t expected. White-hot pain spiked through him with such intensity that his vision went black.
When it cleared he realized a thin scream was escaping his throat. The dog still hadn’t let go, and its companion had latched onto Bobby’s leg so tightly that he couldn’t even begin to work his way out of its grip.
Something wet ran down his face.
Tears.
“Help!” he cried when he realized he wasn’t going to get out of this on his own. Over by the fence he caught a glimpse of the other two dogs attacking Randy, who wouldn’t be able to help him now, either.
Now Bobby was on the ground, blood oozing out of his hand and leg, but the dogs still wouldn’t let go. They had probably been trained to fight until their victim was dead.
If only Phil was here with his gun. Bang-bang, and their problem would be over.
Something in Bobby’s brain began to shut down from shock. So this was how his short life ended: in someone’s backyard behind St. Paul’s Church, barely a week after he’d taken on the mantle of Servitude so he could help free the possessed.
Don’t worry, the Spirit whispered. It isn’t over yet.
CARLY WATCHED with wide eyes as Bobby leapt down from the roof of the car and dashed across the street like a madman. He disappeared down one driveway, came back seconds later, and vanished down the next without returning.
Minutes ticked by.
Long, nerve-racking minutes.
Somewhere close, dogs were barking. The sound of it turned Carly’s stomach.
“I don’t like this,” Lupe said, her face pale.
“Me neither.”
“I can’t stand not knowing what’s going on.” Lupe’s eyes glistened. “I’m going to call Randy.” She pulled out her phone and tapped in the numbers, the
n held it to her ear and waited.
After several seconds she let out a curse in Spanish.
This wasn’t good at all. “I’ll try Bobby,” Carly said, but he didn’t answer, either.
Lupe bit her lip. “We need to call the police.”
“What are we going to say to them? That Bobby was trespassing on someone’s property and never came back?”
“We could report a…how do you say? Disturbance.”
“But then they’d ask for details, and we don’t have any of those.”
“Those dogs were barking. That is a detail.”
Lupe was right, and it bothered Carly. What if there were attack dogs somewhere behind the house? They could have been penned in by an invisible fence.
“Fine,” Carly said. “I’ll make it anonymous.” She did a quick search on her phone for the local dispatch and dialed that number instead of 911, then tried to compose herself while she waited for someone to pick up.
A woman’s voice came on the line. “Cascade County Sheriff’s Dispatch.”
“Um, yeah. I’m calling to report a disturbance on, um…” She held the phone away from her ear. “What street is this?”
“Locust,” Lupe said without hesitation.
“Locust Street in Autumn Ridge,” Carly said to the dispatcher. “At…” She squinted at the fortress of hedges across from her. “Well, I don’t know the house number because there isn’t a mailbox and there’s all these hedges out front, but it’s the third house with hedges on the left.”
“Ma’am, what type of disturbance was there?”
“Tell them we heard screaming,” Lupe whispered. “Like someone was being attacked.”
Carly cringed. Her parents would kill her if they ever caught wind of the fact that she’d fibbed to the police. “Well, there was all this barking, and I think maybe someone was screaming back there, too, like dogs were attacking them.”
“Ma’am, could you please give me your name and number? We’ll need to—”
Carly ended the call before the woman could proceed. “I’m getting in the front,” she said.
Lupe nodded, and they each climbed out of the back of the Nissan. Carly sat in the driver’s seat and Lupe took the seat beside her.
Carly was thankful that Bobby had left his key in the ignition. “You think they went in together,” she said.
“There’s no other reason Randy wouldn’t have answered. He would have climbed over the fence if he heard that Bobby was…” Lupe scrunched her eyes shut and shook her head.
“They’ll be okay,” Carly said, though a hollow feeling inside of her told her she was lying to Lupe and to herself.
Ten more minutes passed. Carly tried calling Bobby three additional times, with no success.
Lupe leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and was praying softly in Spanish.
Just as Carly was thinking that at least the Thane-creature hadn’t yet shown up to complicate things further, an Autumn Ridge police cruiser turned onto Locust Street and slowed to a crawl.
“Lupe, look.”
Lupe shifted and leaned to see out the driver side window. “I hope they don’t try to talk to us.”
As far as Carly could see, the individual driving the cruiser wasn’t even glancing their way. The cruiser paused in front of the place where Bobby disappeared; then swung into the driveway and around the corner of hedges so they could no longer see it.
“Why didn’t he park out front?” Lupe asked.
“Probably so he has easier access to his car if something goes wrong.” Carly gave an inward cringe. “I hope he doesn’t run into any attack dogs.”
She shifted positions and kept her gaze trained on the driveway entrance. She itched so badly to go back there and learn what, if anything, was happening. If only those blasted hedges weren’t in the way!
Ten more minutes came and went with cold indifference. Lupe let out a little gasp. “He’s coming back!”
Sure enough, the police cruiser emerged from the sort-of hedge maze and departed the driveway at a leisurely speed.
No backup had been called. No ambulance. Not even a fire truck, which always seemed to show up at emergency scenes whether one was needed or not.
If Bobby and Randy weren’t injured, why weren’t they picking up the phone?
“That’s it,” Carly said. “I’m walking back there to see what’s going on.”
Lupe gaped at her. “Do you want to be eaten by a dog?”
“For all we know, the dogs were somewhere else and it only sounded like they were back there.”
Lupe’s eyes lit up. “And maybe Randy and Bobby went into someone else’s yard.” Her face fell again. “And got attacked by dogs there.”
“There’s only one way to find out. Let’s go.”
“Wait.” Lupe popped open the glove box and rummaged around in Bobby’s insurance papers and roadmaps.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking to see if he has a gun.”
“If he did, he would have taken it with him.”
Lupe slapped the glove box closed. “I’m an idiot.”
“If you’re an idiot, I’m a moron. Come on.” Completely weaponless, Carly stepped out onto the street, her mind firmly set on the task before her.
“What if something comes after us?” Lupe asked as they crossed over to the opposite sidewalk. She had taken a flashlight from Bobby’s car and gripped it like a club.
“We run like heck back to the car.” And then we pray that Bobby and Randy show up all in one piece.
Carly estimated the paved driveway to be about forty yards long before it turned sharply to the left. The thought that she was making a huge mistake intensified with each footfall, but she refused to turn back until she’d learned something or was chased away.
Lupe had straightened her shoulders and held her head up high. Carly noticed she was making a point to stay as close to her side as possible.
They both stopped by unspoken agreement a few feet before the driveway turned. Fear lined Lupe’s face. “It is now or never,” she said.
Carly nodded, and before she took the step that could very well be one of the dumbest things she’d ever done, her mind conjured an image of her and Lupe rounding the corner only to see the lifeless bodies of Bobby and Randy lying spread-eagled on the ground.
Which was stupid, because if that had been the case the cop who’d shown up would have called in reinforcements.
She took a deep breath and stepped forward.
The paved driveway ended at a leaning carport stationed behind the shabby two-story house. White aluminum siding was stained with spots of gray, and a tired wind chime hanging by the back door made sad clinking sounds in the light breeze.
A kennel sat at one end of the yard, which was speckled with days’ worth of dog doo, but there were no dogs in sight.
There weren’t any people, either.
The next thing Carly noted was that the walls of hedges completely blocked this yard off from the neighbors on either side. The privacy fence that divided this property from the back parking lot at St. Paul’s lined the rear of the yard.
Lupe stepped toward a picnic table sitting in the grass, which hadn’t been mowed in weeks.
She halted and gasped. “Sangre.”
“What?”
“Blood. In the grass.”
Fear seized Carly’s heart as she rushed to Lupe’s side. She crouched down and swallowed back bile. Sure enough, something dark and sticky glistened on the uncut blades of grass.
Lupe folded her arms across her chest and glared at the blood as if it had caused her some sort of grievance. “That stupid cop didn’t even look at this. He must have stayed in his car the whole time he was back here.”
“Maybe he’s afraid of dogs,” Carly said, only half-jokingly. Her own mother had severe panic attacks if she even came into contact with a breed as innocuous as a basset hound.
“Hmm.” Lupe put a hand on her chin, forehead creased. “We d
on’t know that it’s human blood. Maybe we should…” She broke off the same instant a muffled sound issued from a shed sitting beside the carport. “What was that?”
Carly was already creeping through the high grass over to the shed door. It appeared latched but not locked. She held an ear against it and listened.
Something inside let out a plaintive whimper that sent goosebumps cascading over her arms. “Something’s alive in there.” Like an injured Bobby.
“Are you sure?”
Carly nodded. “Step back. I’m going to open the door.”
Lupe moved back several paces. Carly saw her grip tighten on the flashlight.
Carly tensed her muscles, preparing to run at a moment’s notice in case whatever lurked in the shed wasn’t human. Okay, she told herself. Go.
She slid the metal latch away from the loop and swung the door open.
Four dogs with coats of varying colors bounded straight out at her, and she instinctively brought her arms over her face to protect herself. Please don’t hurt me please don’t hurt me oh please…
All four ran past her toward the driveway and started pacing back and forth at what had to be the edge of the invisible fence.
Carly lowered her arms. What the heck?
Two of the dogs had minor lacerations as if someone had tried to fight them off with a knife. Yet if these dogs had truly tried to attack Bobby and Randy, why weren’t they attacking Carly and Lupe? Had they only been trained to attack men?
And how had they gotten in the shed?
That question could wait.
Carly pushed the shed door closed and wiped away the sweat running down her forehead. “I have another idea,” she said, unable to remove her gaze from the pacing dogs. One had laid down on the edge of the driveway with its ears perked up. All seemed oblivious to her and Lupe.
“What is that?” Lupe asked.
“I’m going to see if anyone’s home.”
Lupe whirled around and gaped as if Carly had just suggested they both go dancing naked in the street. “Why?”
“Why not? Bobby and Randy have to be somewhere close. They could have gone in the house.”
Lupe’s face took on a sickly hue. “I’m going to wait out here.”
“Holler if you need me.” Trying to stifle the jitters, Carly strode to the back door and knocked. When nobody came to answer it, she turned the knob and pulled it open.
