Chapter 6
The dogs and Wilden all seemed to have some job in mind or some goal, some plan where Vivian seemed to be completely on the outs, with no clue how to handle this situation. The fact that even Romeo, Juliet, and Dagger were falling behind Sarge said a lot too.
She just didn’t know what her role in all of this was supposed to be.
She kept quiet and moved as part of a singular group, marveling at how quickly everybody had stepped up to literally become one unit.
She’d never experienced anything like that before.
Certainly animals were very clan-oriented, and some were used to hierarchical relationships, but, in this case, Sarge was clearly stepping the hell up as the leader.
It’s as if he had announced, I’m the boss, and you three will do what I say, and yet he hadn’t made a sound.
It just happened instinctively. But then he was older than the rest of the dogs, which may have played a role, but it was also about his War Dog experience.
He knew exactly what he was doing, and it seemed as if the others knew that too.
She watched as Wilden took the lead with Sarge standing beside him, the others next, and Vivian followed behind all of them, almost a protective layer between him and her, and she wondered if it was deliberate or just happenstance. She stepped up beside him and whispered, “What do you think?”
He glanced at her and shrugged. “Two-legged.”
Her eyebrows shot up, and she eyed him in dismay. “I would much rather have animals to deal with. … People can be wild.”
“So, you’ve said before,” he noted, “but somebody is up here. Not necessarily somebody bad but we don’t know yet. The fact that we can’t even hear what they’re up to does concern me.”
It concerned her too, but she wasn’t sure what she was really concerned about. It was definitely more cloak-and-dagger than she was comfortable with.
“I guess if I told you to stay here with the dogs, that wouldn’t go over well, huh?” She shot him a look of terror, and he smirked. “No, I didn’t think so.”
“It’s also not an area that I’m terribly comfortable in or familiar with,” she added. “So, if you feel the need to go check this out, I’m going with you.”
“Got it,” he replied, and no surprise was in his tone.
He just accepted it as the way it would be, which she had to appreciate. And, if there was no argument, she felt as if whatever she said must have merit in his eyes. Now she watched as he whistled, and Sarge stepped forward.
Wilden turned to her and whispered, “We need to check out this place but maybe double back.” Then he held out his hand.
She placed hers in his and walked forward with him cautiously. “We really don’t have to go in this direction, you know?”
He smiled. “Maybe not, but strange things are happening around here that I, for one, am not comfortable letting slip past us at this point.”
She didn’t say anything, but, to her, this was so typical of men and was very much part of that whole Darwin effect, survival of the fittest.
He chuckled when he saw the look on her face. “I’m not suicidal or being silly,” he stated. “Remember that I have a lot of experience with these things.”
When she remembered his military experience, she smiled, trying not to be bitchy. “Most of the bozos I know wouldn’t have a clue what to do in this situation. So, I’m sorry. … For a moment there, I did forget.”
He let it go, but his smile quickly fell away, and he was all business now.
“I’m not here to make trouble for anybody, but I’m also not interested in letting anybody who would hurt Jackson or you or Nan or anybody else just walk away.
And if these guys here are part of it, you also need to remember we have four dogs with us. ”
She noted that all four of them were on high alert. “So, whoever is out here will be less inclined to cause trouble, unless they have a weapon,” she shared.
He nodded. “That is always a possibility.” As they moved forward, he stopped a couple times, listened, looked down at Sarge, then kept on going.
“You’re really checking with Sarge for answers, aren’t you?”
“Yep, he’s wily in ways we are not,” he explained. “I always listen to the animals, particularly any dog that’s got military experience. Their training has been superb, their instincts honed. So, if there is a problem at any time, you always stick to Sarge’s side. Got it?”
She nodded. “Good to know,” she said, as she glanced down at him. “I was ready to take Sarge before I was really needed, but now it feels as if he needs a home with somebody to look after him for his own unique abilities. He’s worked hard to get where he is.”
“Few of these War Dogs get the reward or the rest they deserve after all their work,” he noted. “They work harder and longer with less. I’ve seen them go until they drop. We want them strong, but, when they can’t be, they still give their all,” he shared, looking at Sarge.
She nodded. “He looks as if he’s waiting for permission to go, but he’s not straining.”
“He knows I’m in command, and he will follow my orders, no matter what,” Wilden shared. “That’s something to respect in an animal.” He turned, signaling the dogs.
She watched them move in unison, though she didn’t hear anything at first. Then a branch crackled, and the dogs growled. If someone was approaching, they would likely retreat, but instead she heard more footsteps. She frowned and whispered, “They aren’t retreating.”
“No. It sounds as if they are coming at us.”
Wilden watched, keeping Vivian behind him.
A man stepped out from the underbrush, looking around hesitantly. When he saw them, a frown crossed his face. “Who are you?” he asked bluntly.
Wilden felt Vivian stiffen beside him. He kept his expression casual. “My name is Wilden,” he replied, with a nod. “Who are you?”
The other man just stared at him and frowned. “That’s a strange name.” He didn’t say anything else, studying Wilden, while watching behind him.
Wilden stated, “And you still haven’t told me what your name is.”
“Not sure I’m going to either,” he declared, with a glare in his direction. He looked down at the dogs, and his eyebrows shot up even more, his dislike obvious. “You shouldn’t have that many dogs. Nobody can look after that many.”
The dogs didn’t appear to like him either, and Sarge was causing more confrontation than may have been necessary but maybe not. Wilden looked down at Sarge, then noted, “This dog seems to know you.”
The man stiffened. “No, that’s not the case,” he argued, his face scrunched up in disgust. “I just don’t like dogs.”
“He knows that for sure,” Wilden replied. “But his behavior? Now that’s interesting. You don’t happen to know a man by the name of Jackson Russell, do you?”
The stranger’s gaze narrowed, and he took half a step backward, almost as if understanding an attack was imminent.
Sarge tried to jump forward, but he was on a leash, and Wilden struggled to control him.
“See? You can’t even control the damn dog,” he pointed out, with a sneer. “If it comes after me, I’ll shoot it.”
Sarge kept struggling against the leash.
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me,” the stranger added. “Just go ahead and try me.”
“I believe you,” Wilden said. “You’re the kind who would shoot a dog. I mean, you didn’t care about what happened to him after you attacked his owner.”
The stranger stiffened and stepped backward again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped, but he looked around nervously.
“This dog knows what I’m talking about,” Wilden declared, still holding onto the leash, keeping Sarge in place. “Believe me that this dog knows exactly who you are and what relationship you had to his owner.”
“Had?”
“Yeah, had.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything, and his question seemed to hang in the air. He probably wanted to know if the old man was alive or dead, but he didn’t want to ask the question because that would imply that he knew something was wrong.
Wilden smiled at him. “He survived, by the way. He lived to tell the story. Told the cops.”
His eyes widened, and then a heat, whether it be anger or panic, flushed across his face, and he looked from one to the other. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated. “I don’t give a shit about any old man. I don’t give a shit about nothing.”
“No, just taking a retired man’s military pension. That’s what you cared about,” Wilden shared comfortably.
“He is a blight. He can’t even feed himself or look after his dog.”
“Let’s talk about you. I know what kind of guy you are.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” the stranger snapped, glaring at him. “Now that you’re making accusations, you damn-well better watch your mouth.”
Wilden smiled. “Yeah, you think you’re tough, think you can kidnap retired veterans and can keep them captive while you force them to sign paperwork so you can get their pension money, plus any assets in their name. Are you proud of that?”
The stranger stared at him in shock, clearly not expecting them to know that much.
Wilden added, “The cops are looking for you. They were under the assumption that you skipped town, but I’ll be happy to let them know that I saw you up here.”
He stared for a moment longer, then he snapped, “You don’t know shit.”
“I know a lot,” Wilden countered. “And I’ve got your number right now.”
“You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know anything about what happened.”
“I don’t really care either. You already made a stand and revealed what kind of person you are,” he stated. “I don’t think anybody will much care past that.”
The stranger continued to stare at him and blinked several times. “You can’t know anything about this.” He shook his head. “No way.” Then he looked at her.
She had been happier when he just ignored her completely.
He glanced from one to the other, and then he took another step backward.
“Go ahead and run,” Wilden said. “I mean, that’s your MO, isn’t it?”
The stranger stopped for a moment, then kept walking backward.