"Uh, hey Sandra. Do you think you're able to come give me a hand?" He sounds stressed. No wonder, if he's the only one left to deal with things.
"Didn't Travis tell you? He fired me." I didn't realize how hard it'd be to say it out loud.
"Uh yeah, I know. But he never showed up today and I don't know who else to call. I think someone broke in last night and let the dogs out. The whole place is a disaster.”
I shouldn't. So many reasons, but Carl has always been so nice. And the poor dogs. “Let me call you back in a second, okay?”
“Um, okay. I guess.”
I hang up and try Zero. Nothing. Beast? Nada. Piston? Straight to voicemail. I look at Jerry and smile.
“Sandy, no.”
“But…”
“Sandy.” Jerry looks at me like I’m the easiest mark on the planet.
“Pleeeease?”
He sighs. “Fine, but not if it means earning the wrath of the Screaming Eagles when they find out I drove you over. Find your babysitter. And I can drop you off but I need to run some errands so you need to call me when you’re done so I can pick you up.”
“Fiiine.”
I wander upstairs. Spike is still busy with his nose buried in a book. “Hey, do you have a minute? Or more realistically an hour?”
He hops to his feet. The guy is probably only twenty, tall and thin with dark red hair sticking up in small peaks. “I have literally nothing else to do. What’s up?”
“I need to run an errand. Jerry’s going to drive. Come with?”
Fifteen minutes later, the three of us pull up to the shelter. I can hear the barking from outside. Spike and I hop out of the car. I pat the roof a couple times and give Jerry a thumbs up. He waits until he sees us go inside, and then pulls out of the parking lot.
“Sandra, I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be here. I thought you needed to go grocery shopping or something,” Spike says softly.
“It’ll be fine. Probably messy, but fine.”
The front room is empty, but that doesn't surprise me if Carl is alone and the dogs are loose. Loud excited barks certainly lend credence to his phone call. I cut through the intake room to the kennel. "Carl? You there? I'm here to help."
"Out—out back!"
Something makes the back of my mind tingle suspiciously. Like there's something going on that isn't quite right, but I can't imagine what that would be. I push open the door to the fenced in yard where the dogs can get some running done outside and come face to face with a pistol.
And at the end of that pistol is Travis.
I can see the moment when he notices Spike and panics.
Spike does, too. He throws himself in front of me and the gun goes off. I scream as Spike’s body hits the ground, and dive to check on him. He’s breathing, but there’s so much blood.
"Get up! Get up! I don't want to hurt you." Travis screams. His voice is shaky, and so is his hand.
"Well, you could begin by lowering your gun and calling for an ambulance." I stand completely still so I don't make him jump. My anxiety is a big ball in my throat that I have force down. "That would be a really good start."
"Turn around. Walk into Bigfoot’s kennel.Please, Sandra."
I turn to find Carl in there already, leaning his forehead and the flats of his palms against the wall. "I'm sorry," he whimpers.
"He has a gun pointed at you, Carl. It's fine." I mean, it's not fine. Nothing is fine. But if Travis was pointing a gun at me andtelling me to call someone, I'm not convinced I would have done anything different. The will to survive is strong.
They weren't lying about the dogs being loose, though I assume they were let out on purpose to trick me. A couple recognize me and come running, pressing up against my legs and looking for a piece of exposed skin to lick. They seem a little confused when I don't reach down to pet them.
