Jagger

by Kristopher Rufty

  Jagger’s strength was incredible. It took all Mark had to keep him back. And he knew it wouldn’t last. Soon, Jagger would overpower him. In this position, Mark had little hope of winning this struggle.

  A paw slapped down on Mark’s chest, raking him with claws. The buttons of his shirt plopped off as the paw swiped downward and left rows of fire on his torso.

  Mark called out in pain.

  Gritting his teeth, he growled, “Get off!” and tried to shove the massive dog away. Pressing down harder, Jagger wedged Mark farther down into the car.

  Jagger bit and growled, jaws snapping in Mark’s ear. A clump of skin and hair was plucked from his scalp. He felt the warm trickles of blood running down his forehead.

  He couldn’t think of way out of this.

  But he knew for certain he couldn’t keep this fight going.

  Mark wiggled in the seat, towing his other leg under Jagger. Planting his foot in the cushion, he dug his knee into the dog’s stomach. With his knee lodged under the dog, Mark kept his right arm under Jagger’s throat and pawed at his belt with the left.

  Jagger jostled downward in an almost stomp, pushing Mark’s arm down and nearly clamping his jaws on Mark’s gullet. Mark gave a thrust back, with all his strength, shoving Jagger back up.

  He slapped at his belt, fingers tapping the smooth polished leather around his waist. Getting his gun would be impossible from this position. He’d have to somehow roll onto his side just to get his arm around to reach it. Trying to switch arms was too great a risk. He might not get an arm up in time to stop Jagger’s bite.

  But he could reach the small canister clipped to the side.

  He tugged until it popped free.

  Jagger bounced, putting all his weight on Mark’s arm and knocking it back. He heard a snap, felt the bone break with a sharp jolt of pain, and cried out as his arm dropped by his head in a limp fold.

  Jagger’s teeth clamped down on the space between Mark’s shoulder and neck. Screaming, Mark felt Jagger’s teeth dig in deep, finding his collar bone and crunching it. Pain exploded in Mark’s chest. His body stiffened as his screams ripped his throat raw. Jagger’s head jerked violently, as if he were trying to extricate Mark’s collarbone through his shirt.

  Raising the pepper spray with his free hand, it trembled as if Mark were lifting a brick between his thumb and forefinger. He thumbed the nozzle. Thick foam sprayed from the tip, spattering Jagger’s face. Yelping, the dog jerked back, bonking his head on the ceiling hard enough to shake the car.

  Mark held the button down. The dog’s whines turned to howls as his eyes were washed in frothy white. Jagger scrambled on top of Mark, pushing against him and digging his claws into his stomach to find purchase. His back legs locked into place, forepaws scraping Mark’s chest as he tried to get away from the spray. The dog rolled sideways, and dropped backwards out of the car.

  Mark wasn’t quick enough to catch himself and followed Jagger out. Landing on his stomach beside the car, he pounded the hard ground. His arm was crushed underneath him. Legs bent behind him, his feet hung inside the floorboard.

  Mark tried to rock to the side and was met with a jolt of immense pain from his shoulder. Moving to the other side, he struggled to get onto his back, but his legs stayed stretched into the car. It hurt his hips to lie this way, but the relief in his shoulder was greater than the pain.

  His firing arm dangled from the injured shoulder, unable to operate. He wasn’t as good with his left, but he could still get the job done pretty affectively. Reaching across his stomach with his left hand, he grabbed his handgun. It took some effort, but he got the gun out. Holding it up by his head, the barrel pointing at the sky, he looked around. From the ground, it was hard to see much. He checked under the car, beside him, tilted his hips lower to see under the door.

  Jagger wasn’t around.

  Gotta get up. I’m just asking for it down here.

  Easier said than done. It hurt him all over to move, though the bulk of his injuries seemed to be in his arm and shoulder.

  Bastard broke my arm.

  He checked his shoulder. Saw the torn fabric of his uniform, and the blood. So much blood. His shoulder was ruined. A small part of his mind wondered if he’d ever be able to use it again. Would it heal right?

  Mark scooted back, pushing against the inside of the car. His back scraped the gravel of Amy’s driveway.

  If I don’t get off this damn ground, I’ll never live to know.

  Where was Amy?

  There was no sign of her. If she were home, surely she’d heard his screams, or Jagger’s.

  Either Jagger got her, or…

  No. She’s probably not home.

  She might have found a ride to the impound lot. Ellie, probably. They might be on their way back.

  Or maybe Jagger already got her. She’s lying dead around here somewhere.

  No. He wasn’t going to think that way. She was okay.

  Mark pulled his legs out of the car, and pushed them between the door and the rocker panel. As if performing a sit-up, Mark strained with his stomach muscles and pulled himself up to his knees. He hugged his left arm around them, pointing the gun into the car.

  He stayed that way, huffing and holding himself, his face flat against his knees. Sweat streamed down his face, soaking in his eyes. He was banged up, but not entirely defeated.

  I’m not dead.

  His eyes gazed into his cruiser as he tried to get his bearings. It took a moment before he realized he was staring at the radio. He saw the mouthpiece, the coiled chord dangling below it.

  And remembered he could call for backup.

  Shit! I’m such a damn idiot!

  During the chaos, he’d completely forgotten about it.

  He dug his shoes into the gravel, squirming back to make a base. Then he put his weight on his legs and thrust upward with his hips. Surprised by how quickly he rose to his feet, he started to tumble back, but threw his arm over the door to catch himself. He could see his 9mm through the glass, his hand clutching it so strongly his fingers had turned white.

  With the door acting as his support, he scanned the yard from one side to the other. Then he turned, looking at the woods to his left. Though the wind wasn’t blowing, he saw limbs slightly shaking. They came to a stop as he watched them.

  Through there.

  Jagger wouldn’t get far with his eyes messed up. Mark could call in backup and assemble hunt teams. They’d find him this time, for sure.

  He wondered if the dog was running blind or…

  The quick padding of footfalls on gravel came behind him, crunching through the dirt and rock.

  Mark spun around.

  He glimpsed a large rushing blur with grubby fur.

  Saw it launch.

  He didn’t have time to move, didn’t have time to raise his gun.

  As if he was being rundown by a motorcycle, he felt the hurling mass of Jagger plow into him. The impact threw him against the door. Instead of stopping him, the door flew back, bending in a way it shouldn’t. The hinges groaned and quickly snapped, just as Mark’s arm had.

  Mark crashed to the ground with Jagger on top of him.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Amy stood at the window, slapping the glass. She continued calling for Mark as if he might somehow hear her and come back. What felt like several hours had gone by, but most likely, it had only been a few minutes.

  If only he’d hear her calling.

  After all, she’d heard Janice’s screaming…

  Nathan’s bawling had ceased to a sniffling blubber behind her. She could feel his frightened eyes on her back, watching her. He was judging her, seeing how she would handle their situation so he would know how he was supposed to react. Right now, he was probably confused, wondering why Amy continued to shout at a window and slapping it as if it had told her bad news.

  It did. Told me Nathan and I are going to die in here.

  Amy rested her head against the window. The glas
s was cool against her sweat-slick forehead. Her arm dropped to her side. She tried to think.

  Please God…show me a way out of here. I know I don’t ask you for much, but please…

  Amy waited on a response, as if she’d expected the clouds to open a large hand to reach down and carry her to safety.

  All she got was Nathan’s pitiful moans.

  Mark will see I’m not home. My Jeep’s there, but I’m not and he might think something’s up.

  Wait…

  Her Jeep was not there. It was locked up. Just as she’d been until last night. When she didn’t come to the door, Mark would assume she wasn’t home and he’d leave.

  Maybe he would stop by Ellie’s to ask if she’d seen Amy…

  Ellie!

  Amy jerked her head away from the window, bent slightly forward and looked out. She could see barrier of bushes and trees at the front of Ellie’s yard, her mailbox. Why hadn’t Ellie come to see what all the noise was about? Surely she’d heard it. There was no way she could have mistaken the frenzy of screams and crying for anything other than what they were. So, why hadn’t Ellie, or Jim, come to help?

  Maybe they aren’t home.

  No. They had to be home. Ellie was supposed to give her a ride this morning.

  Maybe they were sleeping.

  Amy had to try something to get their attention.

  She looked down at the window and saw it was only partway open. She gripped the edge of the window and yanked it up. It flew high, smacking the inside of the sill. The open space was still too low, only reaching her breasts. She sunk to a crouch and propped her arms on the window pane.

  “Ellie!”

  Her voice was loud in the room, startling Nathan enough to start him crying again.

  Amy leaned against the screen, pushing her mouth against it and called for her friend a second time. Then she added, “It’s Amy! I’m across the street. With Nathan! We need help!”

  She waited a bit, hoping to see Ellie appear at the end of her driveway.

  She didn’t come. Neither did Jim.

  And Amy suddenly felt sick inside. They had to be home.

  What if Jagger…?

  She wouldn’t allow herself to think it, though she’d already convinced herself it was true.

  Jagger had gotten them. Then he’d come over here to get Janice and Nathan.

  Why?

  Picking them off…getting them out of the way…

  But why!?!

  “To have me to himself…” she whispered.

  And now Jagger was gone. And Mark was most likely at her house.

  “Oh…God…Mark…”

  Mark was in danger, she knew it. Jagger had gone after him.

  Amy gazed outside for several more minutes.

  She heard no gunshots to indicate Mark had killed Jagger.

  She pictured Mark firing several rounds into Jagger and was surprised she felt no grief at all.

  He’s not my dog…

  It helped that he looked nothing like his old self. Made it easy to push aside the good memories she had of him.

  A shadow emerged on the gravel road beyond the front yard. Small at first, it seemed to stretch and fill out, widening across. A bar of light danced in the middle of growing shape. She realized what it was a moment before she spotted the frontend of a car coming into view.

  Her first thought was Mark had come back. Maybe he’d heard her shouting for Ellie.

  But the direction was wrong.

  This car was taking the same route Mark had come from.

  Unless he circled around, drove around the horseshoe.

  That idea died when she saw the color of the car was orange and much longer than a police cruiser. She recognized the Chevy Impala, its polished, metallic orange smolder. The fancy rims that reflected light onto the ground around it as if it had suddenly materialized from a portal.

  The only difference this time was there was no Spanish music blasting from its speakers. And the windows were down. She saw a dark-skinned face peering out from the open frame, long hair pulled into a tight ponytail.

  Jose!

  Carlos must be driving. Why was he going so slowly?

  Yes, the car was creeping along, but it would be gone in a matter of moments.

  Amy threw herself against the screen. She heard mesh tearing as she worked to get her mouth facing out.

  “Help us! Carlos! Heeeeeelp!”

  Jose’s head turned back into the car, his ponytail bopping as if saying something.

  The car jerked to a halt.

  Though Nathan was shrieking again, Amy started to laugh. Jose had heard her.

  “Jose! It’s me, Amy! Help!”

  The passenger door flew open and Jose jumped out. He was naked down to the shorts that hung past his knees. Though he was incredibly short, his body was lined with tight, skinny muscles.

  “Jose! Here, at Janice’s!”

  Jose, gazing across the yard, didn’t move. He stood at the edge of the ditch. Carlos emerged from the driver side. He walked around the back of the car to join his friend. Carlos had a chain wrapped around his fist, a length dangling by his leg.

  Jose reached behind his back and brandished a long-bladed knife.

  Good job, guys!

  Carlos gave a terse nod, and at once he and Jose started into the yard.

  Amy shuffled away from the window, snatching Nathan from the floor on her way to the front door. She flung the door wide and kicked open the screen door with her shoeless foot.

  She was down the steps and in the grass before the guys had made it halfway through the yard.

  Amy hobbled in uneven strides toward the pair of men.

  Seeing her, their slow skulk turned into a run.

  They met her.

  “Amy? What the hell’s going on, huh?” Though of Spanish heritage, Carlos barely had an accent. His English was flowing and nearly southern in tone. Jose, on the other hand, couldn’t speak a word of English.

  Jose saw Nathan and his eyes widened. He turned to Carlos and spoke in a rapid fire of Spanish. Nodding, Carlos held up his hand.

  “Are you all right?” asked Carlos.

  “Not really,” she said. “Jagger’s gone…mad.”

  “Your dog?”

  “Yes,” she said, and felt her throat thickening.

  “Damn.” Carlos wrinkled his nose into a grimace. “I heard about that shit at Freddy’s on the news. Never liked the guy, but still…” He made a sour face. When he looked at Nathan, it dropped away. “Is the boy all right?”

  “He’s hurt a little bit, but he’ll be fine.”

  “His mom?”

  Amy shook her head.

  Carlos sighed, closed his eyes a moment. She thought she heard him mutter something in Spanish. Sounded like a prayer. When he opened his eyes again, his look turned serious. “We heard the screams. At first we weren’t sure what was going on, but when they kept coming we decided to check it out.”

  Amy was so grateful that they had. Usually, she felt intimidated and even a little frightened of Carlos and his friends. Right now, she was very glad to see them.

  “Thank you…”

  Carlos shrugged. “We’re all neighbors, right? We’ve got to look out for each other.”

  Amy felt herself smiling at his noble proclamation.

  “Where’s the dog now?” asked Carlos. He looked around the yard as if Jagger might be hiding nearby.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “He took off, shortly after I saw…”

  Mark.

  “Oh, God…”

  “What’s wrong?” Carlos asked.

  “Mark, I saw him go by. I bet Jagger went after him.”

  Carlos nodded, though he couldn’t have known who Mark was. “All right. Think he went to your house?”

  “He must have.”

  Carlos turned to Jose, said something in Spanish. Jose nodded. Carlos kept talking, using his hands to emphasize a point he was trying to make.

  Jose resp
onded in the same agitated manner.

  Carlos turned to Amy. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You and the boy are going to go with Jose back to my place. You can use my phone to call the police and an ambulance. I’ll go to your house and check on your friend.”

  Amy couldn’t believe how wrongly she’d judged these guys. She’d convinced herself they were gang members. And maybe they were, but in this moment, it didn’t matter.

  They were heroes.

  But she also couldn’t let Carlos go by himself.

  “No,” she said. “I’ll go with you.”

  “I’d rather you…”

  “He’s my damn dog, Carlos. I’m going.”

  Holding out his hands, the chain jangled slightly in front of him. “If you want.”

  He relayed the information to Jose in Spanish. Jose nodded, put the knife away and stepped forward. He opened his arms for Nathan.

  Amy had to pry Nathan away from her, but once he was in Jose’s arms, the boy hugged the short Spanish man just as hard. She noticed a slight smile of affection wash over Jose’s hard features.

  With Nathan clutched close and wrapped around his torso, Jose turned away and started across the yard. It was hard for him to run with the boy clinging to his front, but his legs worked quickly, though stiff. He reached the car in moments and fought Nathan loose to get him inside. She heard the click of the seatbelt engaging, then Jose stepped back and shut the door. He gave a quick look around before hurrying to the driver side. There, he hopped in. A moment later she heard the transmission click and watched the car zip away in reverse. A thin cloud of dust hung in the air, swirling where the car had just been.

  Carlos took a deep breath, turned to Amy. “Ready?”

  “Not really.” She looked at the chain wrapped around Carlos’s closed fist and realized she’d left the knife inside, by the window. She wasn’t going back inside for it.

  “Let’s get moving,” said Carlos.

  They started through the tall grass. Amy searched the ground as they walked.

  “What are you looking for?” Carlos asked.

  “My other shoe…”

  She spotted it on the ground and slipped her foot in. Her stance was balanced once again. She was about to walk back over to Carlos but caught a dim twinkle in the grass from something close to the ankles of Janice’s mangled body.