2018-01-04 - spike - The New Shop 58

Author: spike
Title: The New Shop 58
Date: 04 January 2018

Chapter 58
The next dog I stalked was the rough collie. He was much more aware. The moment I got within his range he bolted.

Of course, I bolted after him, but he was quick and even in the snow, had a good grasp on how to change direction quickly. I ran for miles after him but by god he was good, I could only assume it was the most experienced dog in the pound, now.

Rascal.

He got away from me in a similar way to Phantom in the previous race, him changing direction at the last minute, me, slipping on some ice and collapsing into a bush. By the time I’d got out of it, he was long gone.

I changed targets and ran off into the woods but before long something made me pause. I didn’t know what it was so I moved much more cautiously, then it became clear.

Voices.

I crept from tree to tree and there, in a clearing, a couple of men in camouflage, rifles over their shoulders, sitting on a log drinking something from steaming mugs and a camping stove with a pan on the boil.

I crept around the perimeter when suddenly, a yell. I glanced at them in shock to see one of them swinging his rifle off his shoulder and aiming.

Shit! I bit down, hard and froze, just as something struck me and knocked me onto my side. Then I heard the gunshot as it echoed around the woods.

There was no pain though. I’d just felt a vibration throughout the suit when it struck but… Oh god I felt cold. How could I feel cold? I started to shiver inside my prison. Was it the shock of being shot? Had it struck before the freeze took hold and me, with massive injuries dulled by shock, was that it?

Fuck! Oh god I was a dead man if that was the case.

The voices were getting closer and one of them sounded furious.

“What the hell were you thinking, you idiot?!”

“What? I’ve always wanted a wolf skin rug!”

“Do you have any idea what the penalties are for shooting a fucking wolf you cretin? And wolfskin? Using buckshot? You probably shredded half of what you wanted to keep!”

“How would anyone know? We grab it, load it up, we’ll be gone in twenty minutes and home in an hour!”

There was a crunch of boots on snow.

“What the hell! I coulda sworn that was a wolf! What the hell is that thing?”

“Look, just pick the damned thing up and we’ll check it over later, we can’t get caught out here and that gunshot might’ve alerted anyone! We’ve got to go!”

Then, movement as one of them grabbed my neck, the other, I couldn’t see, must’ve been picking me up by my hind legs.

“It’s as stiff as a board!”

“But I swear I saw it move!”

“That’s not even real wolf skin, look at it! It’s fuckin’ woven! Let’s get outa here! It’s obviously a decoy designed to trap idiots like you!”

“What’s that noise?”

“Shit! It’s a fucking drone! Run for it!”

I hit the ground again and the booted feet retreated into the distance.

If my teeth had been capable, they would’ve been chattering by the time the freeze ended. I got up, moved around… I… How could I not be injured? Then I looked at my side.

The fur was, as one of them had said, shredded to uselessness. I needed to get somewhere warm, and quick. I circled and bolted for the nearest shelter.
* * * * *
For once the shelter was just the right temperature, now only half covered in fur, I needed it too. I didn’t think the heating web would be working either or if it was, not fully. I had to be careful from now on. Make it to the finish line and forget about chasing down more dogs unless I ran into one on the way.

The only way I could think to do it was sprint from one shelter to the next until I got there.

So, that was my fucking boon screwed then. Fuck it. I tapped the panel with my nose, circled and ran to the next shelter along the way.

For the next two days, that’s just what I did. Did I see any more dogs?

Just my luck, not one. I just hoped they had replacement pelts on hand so I could rejoin the hunt before the end. That was my only chance now.

A few hours in each shelter during the day to reclaim some heat, sleeping of course during the night, I exited my final shelter on the morning of the fourth day and bolted to the finish line. The sarge sat in the truck as I approached and didn’t even see me until I pawed, then butted the door.

“What the hell are you doing here? The race isn’t over yet!”

The door opened and then he saw the state I was in.

“Fuck… Now which one are you?” He glanced at something on the dash. “Tyson?”

I nodded, shivering, tail firm between my legs.

“What the hell happened? Never mind, I’ll open the truck, we’ve got a heater in there for the journey back.”

He rushed to the rear, opened it and I scrambled inside. He clambered in after me.

I tapped. Two, six. “N.e.w. F.u.r.”

He sighed. “Sorry, Tyson. We don’t have anything with us. You can still try to catch them as they run to the finish if you can stand the cold though.”

I sank down onto my front paws and sighed, dejectedly.

“You were the best last time too!” he shook his head. “We’ll have to make provisions next race just in case something like this happens again.”

I nodded, turned around on the spot and settled down to a very fed up and miserable sleep.
* * * * *
I don’t know how long it was before the sarge woke me, must’ve been hours though.

“Tyson, they’re getting close. Do you think you can handle the cold?”

I nodded, wagged and jumped down from the back of the truck, ran ten feet and immediately started to shiver uncontrollably. I ran back and scrambled back inside, shaking my head.

“I suppose that’s the equivalent of being half naked, it is fucking cold right now. 20 degrees!”

I stood by the heater to regain what I’d lost, tail back between my legs so firmly I doubted it’d ever come out again.

“Tell you what, I’ll start the engine, you can sit in the cab, at least then you’ll be able to see the action.”

I sighed, nodded and followed him as he opened the passenger side door and helped me to clamber in then turned the key in the ignition.

I sat on the seat, the heater blowing hot air directly onto my bare side. Oh god that was welcome and looking out of that window I had a fair view of the final straight.

The first appeared about ten minutes later. Five of them. One of the German Shepherds, the rough collie, the toy poodle… I bet he got a major advantage blending in with the snow. The two slightly behind the others were a very filthy Old English Sheepdog and the black Labrador. Strength in numbers, a sensible approach.

Even if a wolf caught two of them the others would be free and clear.

They were sprinting up that straight as if their life depended on it, as, about a mile from the finish, two wolves, one on each side, sprang out of the bushes and pounced, taking two of them down immediately. The sheepdog and black lab, out of action. Whether they’d recover in time to beat the rest, time would tell.

The wolves took chase, of course, and the left hand wolf managed to freeze the poodle. The Collie sprang to one side just before his tail could be got and increased his pace, overtaking the German Shepherd.

I started to wag. Oh god this looked good.

Both crossed the line before the wolves could get close. So, Rough Collie first, German Shepherd, second. I wondered who they were. Was it the same Collie I’d missed on day two? The one I thought was Rascal?

It’d be ironic if all the hunters but me ended up being burglars, thieves only there because they’d attempted to rob us. I could see it happening though. Either way, he was destined to be number fourteen before too long.

Then my attention was drawn back to the other end of the straight. Two more, a Border Collie and I’m not sure what it was meant to be, brown with patches… bolting for their lives… That is until… They must’ve spotted their predators, they skidded to a halt, the patchy one recovering quickly enough to take a sharp left through the bushes and into the trees. The other, not fast enough as another wolf charged him, they rolled around in the snow and another freeze.

Two clear, five frozen, over twenty more to go. Oh god, I wished I was out there.

More came almost immediately and the three wolves were so diverted by them, patch slipped behind them and crossed for third place.

It took all day before the final dog came barrelling through the trees expecting pursuit, but of course, by then, their job was done. The wolves and all dogs sat behind the sarge as he stood on the finish line. Final place? The Red Setter. I’d not even seen him since the lineup.

When he saw them all in front of him his sprint slowed to a walk and his tail sank between his legs. He crossed the finish line and sat by the sarge, his head bowed.

“That… was even better than last time. Excellent race, boys. I’m sure Q will be singing your praises… Well, most of them, as soon as we get back. Now, everyone into the truck. We’re going home. Last time I offered them the opportunity to sleep in the shelters for one final night but that wouldn’t be fair this time.”

I noticed the wolves looking around, obviously for me.

“Come on, you three. Don’t worry, Tyson’s already here.” He pointed at the window.

All three of their tails shot up in surprise. They nodded and followed the other dogs into the back.
* * * * *
“Don’t look so down, Tyson. Rewards are coming your way, believe me. Even if you didn’t get best hunter this time.”

Q’s voice did have a hint of sorrow to it as he said that though. He looked at the arrayed hounds and smiled. “That was even better than the first time, from our point of view at least. Now, before I announce the winners of the race, before the fur is removed and you regain your two legs in fact… The hunter results.

In third place, with ten captures and best takedown for day three giving a grand total of one hundred and five points… Bandit.

In second, eleven captures, best capture for day four, one hundred and fifteen points to Slasher.

Duke! You impressed me yet again. Thirteen captures. I’m afraid we couldn’t assign you best capture even though some were worthy of it. We had to adjust things and assign two best captures to Tyson. What happened to him was terribly unfair and thus… Day one had two best captures. It doesn’t matter, Duke, you won and you know what that means.

He wagged, oh god did he wag.

“Now, first order of business… Before we reveal who the hounds are, select the next hunter to join your pack. We want this to be based on merit rather than preferential treatment, because I suspect I know who you would select if you knew, wouldn’t you?”

His shoulders shook, he nodded.

“This time however, there’s a difference. As six of the hounds are outsiders and one will be returning to London soon, their Master, or Dixon, will earn a reward if you select one of them. Then you select again.”

Duke padded back and forth in front of all the dogs, obviously pondering which one to choose. Then, he stopped, turned and placed his paws on the shoulders of patchy dog, the one who’d come in third place.

“Very well.” Q typed something and seven dogs, one of them was the one I suspected to be moonbeam, a couple of German shepherds, a Labrador, the patchy one, the poodle and one I couldn’t tell… Golden and white markings, all moved to one side.

“Choose again.”

Duke nodded and resumed his pacing, finally stopping at the Rough Collie. He placed his paws on his shoulders.

“Congratulations number fourteen. You’re a hunter now too. For those who know him from training by his dog name, it was Thor.”

The collie’s tail shot up in surprise.

“I did say the winner of the race would be named. You are elevated to silver, a name, a mark of ownership and you will sleep with the other silvers and golds. You’ll have mastery over some of the slaves next time too.”

He began to wag.

So… It wasn’t Rascal? I chuckled to myself. Bet he’s not wishing he could go home now.

“Now, I’ve let the cat out of the bag a little earlier than intended but here are the winning placeholders in reverse order.

In third place overall and first place among the outsiders, Diablo.
In second place, Rascal. Well done. Very well done. Vast improvement over last time.
We know who won, congratulations again, Thor.

Of course, this isn’t the end of it… There is still this.

Prince. Step forward.”

The Red Setter took a step forward, his head down, his tail between his legs, he knew he’d come in last.

“The penalty for final place in the race is this. As happened to Rascal last time, you will remain a dog for the next month while most of the rest of these slaves will move on. To me. You will be allowed out on Sundays and for the next two days to recover from the race. Your sentence begins in two days.”

His tail started to wag.

“I was hoping you might feel that way. It also means you get to take part in the next race. I expect you to do a lot better, just as Rascal did.”

The tail went into overdrive.

“For the outsiders there was also a ranking and again, we know the winner. And in reverse order…

Third place goes to Nipper.”

I closed my eyes. Please don’t let it be moonbeam… Please don’t let it be moonbeam.

“Second place. Fang! Congratulations. You three will receive your rewards before you’re returned to your Masters. There is also the final placeholder among the outsiders. I imagine your Master may have a few stern words to say to you and possibly a punishment. Last place among the outsiders and a rather dire twentieth place over all goes to… Muttley.”

Hmm, oh well, I suppose I’ll find out who Moombeam is eventually.

“Now, Tyson.”

I sat up, my tail erect.

“We factored in what happened to you, which is why you gained two best captures on day one. They were both worthy after all. The first…”

The picture in picture appeared, me, guiding the sheepdog into the trap and then saving him from the swamp.

“For your ingenuity in rescuing Max, saving his life, in fact, twenty bonus points.”

Fuck! That was Max? My tail shot up again.

“Later that day, the next best capture. Three in one. Also the best hiding place overall for another five points.”

The scene changed. Me, burrowing into the snow drift. Sneaking behind them and taking them all before they knew what hit ‘em.

“I also commend you on hiding in plain sight, so to speak. Entering a dog’s sense range while asleep so he doesn’t notice your presence when he wakes. Very good thought, Tyson. Very good.”

The scene changed again, revealing the shelter with me hiding behind it. The one I thought was moonbeam emerging, yawning and me pouncing for my final capture in the race.

“It’s only fair we tell you your score too. Five captures. Fifty points. Two best captures, ten points. Best hiding place, five points, twenty point bonus for the rescue, but it doesn’t end there.. This is why Tyson was unable to complete the hunt. His ended one and a half days into the event.”

The scene changed yet again. An aerial view of the assholes with the rifles. One glancing up, yelling and taking aim. Then me, on my side with my coat shredded as they argued and then fled at the sight of the drone.

I glanced from side to side to see a few of the dogs had stepped back in shock.

“Tyson. You did exactly the right thing. The temperatures out there were far too dangerous for an uninsulated slave. I commend you on your survival instincts. I imagine it was still hellish out there, between shelters.”

I nodded.

“Fifteen bonus points for your excellent survival instincts. This gives you a final score of one hundred. We’re compiling a league table and it seems unfair you fall behind because of what happened. I also award you the same prize as second place amongst the hunters. If you hadn’t had your hunt terminated prematurely we believe you would have won. Oh, and the police and park services have been informed, edited video footage forwarded to them. We also diverted one of our drones and captured their license plate so they will not get away with it.”

God I hope they get jail time. I know there can be a hefty fine too.

“As before, there are other prizes to come. Those results will be revealed before any of you depart. Also, as per the last race, all participants, two days freedom from duties. Again, this does not stack with the prizes awarded to the top three. Q out.”