Chapter 32 Sandra
SANDRA
Travis leaves us in the kennel. I try yelling, but he doesn’t answer, and I don’t even know if he left or if he’s hiding in his office. Either way, we can't just sit here and do nothing.
“Spike?” I call. “Spike? If you’re conscious, can you give us a sign?”
It takes a few tries, but I hear him make a noise. Still alive. That’s something at least. I don’t know what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been with me at all, but I’m pretty sure he saved my life when Travis freaked out.
Whatever Travis’s plan is, I bet I’m being used as bait, and unfortunately my boys are going to fall for it—not because they're stupid, but because they’d walk straight into here even knowing it’s a trap because they think I’m worth it for some reason.
And I refuse to be the reason more people get hurt.
Carl sits in the corner of the cage, back against the wall and his legs pulled up. He hugs them close to himself.
"You okay?" I know it's unreasonable to expect a college student who panics at the sight of bikers to become a sudden hero, but it'd be nice if he wasn't having a panic attack. "It's not you they're after."
He looks up, his eyes looking a little swollen. "But I’m still here, aren’t I? How are you keeping so cool?"
My little laugh is resigned. "Would you believe this isn't the first time I've been taken at gunpoint and locked up?
It's not a good habit to get into, so here's hoping your first is your last." I look back towards the door to the front area.
"But we need to do something. If we're still here when whoever he's working for comes, things are going to get a lot worse.
Probably mostly for me, but they won't exactly have your best interests at heart either. "
At that, he pushes himself to his feet and draws a deep breath. "Okay. So we do something. I can handle that.” His face falls. “But what? We’re locked in a cage.”
I try the door, but while the lock rattles, it's solid. Maybe if I had the right tools, and knew how to use them, but I don't. For all I can do, we might as well be welded in. "I don’t know, but there’s two of us. Any ideas? No matter how stupid."
"Right, um…" He looks around. There's not much to work with. A steel bowl with some kibble, water, a dog bed, a couple of chew toys and… and that's about it. "Did you ever see those videos of the lawyer who breaks open padlocks by hitting them with things?"
"Um, maybe? Once?"
He picks up the dog bowl and hefts it. It's not particularly heavy, but it is steel. We used to get plastic, but steel lasts forever and is easier to disinfect. "No guarantees, but you said even if it’s stupid, right? I’ve never actually tried this, but how hard can it be?
I think I've seen what she does." He nudges the bowl out under the door, which doesn't come all the way down to the floor, then moves it up with his hands through the bars.
The large dog cages have pretty big gaps, since we're keeping dogs and not hamsters, and it makes it easier to pass things through if we have to.
At least there isn't a guard around the lock. It's there to keep dogs in, not people. Carl gives me a nervous glance. "Keep an eye on the door."
“Sure.” Not sure what I’ll do, but sure.
A quick nod in acknowledgment and then he tries, gently at first so he doesn't make too much noise. When that doesn't work he tries harder, whacking a specific point on the padlock with the hard edge of the bowl. "Come on," he hisses in frustration.
I start looking around for options. His intention is good, but there's no way he's knocking open a padlock with a dog bowl. I pick up the doggy blanket on the bed, spinning it into a rope. Maybe we can use it for leverage. If we just—
A loud crack and the rattle of metal pulls me out of my thoughts. Carl looks my way over his shoulder with a big grin on his face. "Got it."
Well, wow.
"Good job. Let's get out of here. If we take the backdoor past the dogs, we can climb the fence.
" At least I hope so. It's intentionally high so there's no chance of a dog jumping out, and to keep out people who think they can get a free dog by stealing it out of the exercise yard. But it's not unclimbable.
What didn't occur to me is the dogs' reaction to seeing their buddies.
As soon as we open the backdoor, they come running, barking and wagging their tails, probably over the moon that someone's finally come out to play with them.
It's not often they get to be all alone out back together.
They surround us, ganging up so it's hard to even get out the door without hurting them.
Leaving my hand still for a moment gets it licked by at least three different tongues.
I freaking love these guys, but now really isn't the time.
The door to the front slams open, revealing Travis, gun in hand. "What the fuck is going on here? How did you get out?" He aims at the dogs. His hand is so shaky, I'm sure it's going to pull the trigger on its own. "Get back in here, or I start shooting."
"Travis! You’re going to shoot one of the dogs!"
"I know. Do you think I fucking enjoy this? But better them than me. And when it comes down to it, I’d rather shoot a dog before I shoot one of you.
And I know you, Sandra. You're not going to let that happen.
" His voice is as shaky as his hand. He's stressed, and maybe I can use that to my advantage, but I don't want anyone else to get shot either.
I hold my hands up. One of the dogs jumps, trying to get its lick in, then settles.
"Okay. Okay, we're coming back in. Just don't shoot." Escape was an entertaining notion while it lasted, I guess.
We all hear the click and thunk of the front door opening. For just a moment, I allow myself the hope that the guys have found out that I'm missing, and that we're about to get dramatically rescued at the last moment, but I know it's a pipe dream.
Please don’t be Jerry. The last thing we need is four of us in trouble.
"Travis!" I don't recognize the voice, so it’s neither my guys nor Jerry.
"In the back," Travis responds, then more quietly, "It's too late now anyway. I didn't have a choice."
He almost sounds like he's expecting me to forgive him, and I just look at him like he's crazy. He shot someone, and he’s using dogs and Carl to get at me, just so someone else can get at the men I've fallen for, and somehow he thinks that I'm going to be understanding about how hard he has it?
"Fuck you, Travis."
I get a little nod and an expression of resigned acceptance back. "I figured. It's not personal."
"Feels it to me."
The door opens, admitting a group of nasty-looking men, who glare at me with undisguised hostility.
One of them, a beefy guy with long, greasy hair and a bushy beard grins cruelly as he looks me up and down.
"I see why those bikers are so fond of you.
Once we're done, maybe you and me can get to know each other better. "
Ugh. Rapey on top of everything else.
"They're going to come for me."
He laughs, and it's an ugly sound that has me gritting my teeth. "I'm counting on it," he says. "We're already preparing."
His guys spread out, grabbing what looks like dense bricks of gray play-dough out of their backpacks and jamming it into corners in the room. A couple of them herd the dogs into cages, not really caring who ends up where and how many, just getting them out from underfoot.
Travis's eyes go wide. "Wait, hey, Frank, you can't do that? This place is all I've got. I got you the girl. That was the deal. Not fucking explosives. I need this place whole."
Frank shrugs. "Important thing is the Eagles eating shit. Why should I give a fuck about this place?"
"But—but, I can get you more dogs. Give me a chance here." Travis has to be the most pathetic man I've seen in my life. I wish I'd truly seen it earlier. Maybe I wouldn't have been in this mess then.
"Jesus, you're annoying." In a single smooth motion, he draws his gun, aims it at Travis's face, and pulls the trigger.
Carl screams and the dogs bark in panicked surprise as Travis's body flies backwards in a spray of blood and other things I'd rather not think about. Ugh. I look away, not needing to see that. God, Travis was a piece of shit, but he didn't deserve… that.
"They—they shot him!" Any bravery Carl found is gone.
I don't blame him. I'm not feeling so good myself, and I've been through the wringer a time or two. I grab Carl firmly by the shoulders and force him to look away too.
"You can't do anything about it. And it's not your fault. Breathe."
Frank watches us with a grimace, probably disgusted by how we're thrown off by something as irrelevant as a dead body. "Shut up, and keep it down until we're ready to move on."
Move on? "We're not staying here?"
He laughs. "We're gonna blow this place sky high.
Do you wanna fucking be in here? I'd be fucking happy to arrange it, except we're gonna hold on to you until we're sure we've got those assholes who fucking killed Zeke.
So no, we're gonna pull out of here as soon as it's ready.
Only need a couple of guys to set off the bombs.
" He glances at Carl. "We don't need him, though.
" He waves at one of the guys. "Hey, Ray, go strip Travis, see if he’s got their phones. I want to rub it in those assholes’ faces if they call her. Oh, and find some rope."
Oh, God. We're so screwed.