Unleashed! (13 page)

Darcy pushed the door open several centimetres and peered inside. His eyes blinked in the murky light.

‘What can you see?’ asked Clem, her voice barely audible.

‘Nothing!’ Darcy pushed the door open further, muscles twitching, ready to pounce. He was hit by musty air, plus something else. He struggled to work it out—ammonia maybe? ‘It stinks’ was all he could say as he poked his head around the door. There was no sign of dog or human activity. Darcy’s heart sank when he realised they were wrong.

Clem nudged Darcy inside then slipped in behind him. She blinked, her eyes watering at the
overpowering smell. Creeping in further she was careful to make no sound. She peered into the muddied darkness, disappointment lodging in her throat. She wondered where the dogs were, and the cages. She could sense Bryce behind her. ‘Nothing,’ she whispered faintly. Tears welled in her eyes. She was so sure the dogs would be here.

‘Shhh.’ Bryce strained to listen. ‘I heard something.’

The hairs on the back of Clem’s neck stood to attention. Darcy reached for her hand, his warmth surprisingly reassuring. He pressed gently and Clem pressed back.

‘Heard it again.’ Bryce’s voice grew more urgent. ‘Over there.’

Clem couldn’t work out how he could hear anything over the thumping of her heart.

‘In the corner,’ said Bryce, sneaking further into the warehouse. By now, his eyes were accustomed to the dark, aided by the ray of light streaming through the open door. But night was falling and he knew it wouldn’t last long. He could see a table and chair and skirted around them. Clem and Darcy followed.

Something scuttled across Clem’s foot. She clamped her hand to her mouth. It was too heavy to be a cockroach. Must be a mouse. Or a rat! She shuddered at the thought.

The kids moved forward as one, like some sort of giant caterpillar.

Darcy was dying to use the camera flash to shed some light, but he didn’t dare. He thought of his mum and dad and how they’d kill him if anything happened to Clem.

Bryce was the least perturbed. Although wary, he was enjoying the adrenaline rush. ‘Over here,’ he said and tugged Clem’s shirt so that she followed him. But before they went more than a few steps, they heard a
crash
!

Clem wheeled around, blood pounding in her head as she took small, rapid breaths. At the same instant Darcy fired off the flash so that for the first time much of the warehouse was illuminated.

It looked like some secret cavern tucked into a hillside. The roof was high, its wooden rafters covered with spider webs. Spider webs stretched down the walls and between the legs of the table and chairs, too. A doorway led into a room beyond. Dust and dirt caked the floor. As the light faded the kids spied two piles of wooden crates in the corner. They saw movement off to the right. Then there was darkness.

‘Who’s there?’ A voice sliced through the air.

Clem jumped so high her teeth clinked together. Her body trembled. She clutched Darcy, so hard she gave herself nail-ache. Darcy and Bryce were
faring no better. Clem could feel Darcy shaking while Bryce had such a grip on her elbow she thought her arm would drop off.

‘May as well give yourselves up.’ The voice was harsh, deep and grating. It was a man’s voice. ‘Before things turn nasty.’

Bryce had recovered enough to form a plan. ‘Let’s split up,’ he said, his voice so soft that Clem and Darcy had to strain to hear. ‘Head for the door.’

‘No.’ It was Clem.

‘Take that!’ said Darcy. Pointing the camera in the direction of the voice he pressed the button. Click, click, click, click, click.

A man reared in front of them.

The man with the knife!

What happened next was a blur. The man powered towards them, his face contorted in anger.

Click, click, click, click, click.

The man flinched, then held his hand to his eyes to shield them from the light. There was an almighty cry as he lunged at Darcy. Darcy whirled out of his grasp.

Click, click, click, click, click.

Red eyes glowed in the darkness.

Bryce tackled the man. ‘Ooomph!’ The two crashed to the floor and Bryce copped a mouthful of dirt. As he tried to scoot out of the way arms clamped to his legs and pulled him back.

Click, click, click, click, click.

They rolled over and over, reminding Bryce of a crocodile’s death roll, then stopped.

Bryce was pinned down. Pain shot up his back. Hands clamped around his throat.

Click, click, click, click, click.

‘No!’ roared Clem and using her arm as a club she belted the man across the back of his head. ‘Let go!’ she screamed.

Bryce felt the hands slacken and none too soon. His lungs were ready to burst. He wrenched the hands away, then using the only weapon he had he head-butted the man in the face. Pain sledgehammered his forehead.

‘This way.’ Clem dragged Bryce towards the pile of crates.

Satisfied he’d caught the whole thing on camera, Darcy followed.

They crouched behind the crates, trying to be quiet.

The man made enough noise for ten men as he lurched around the warehouse in full blood-curdling cry.

Suddenly, Clem felt something warm on her right hand. At first she wanted to scream but something held her back. It felt comforting, familiar. She peered into the crate and could just make out the outline of something. It was small—
white with tan and black splotches. It was the beagle! The tongue licked her again and Clem beamed into the darkness, overjoyed that they’d found her.

‘The dogs are in the crates,’ she whispered. ‘Ready for shipment.’

Click, click, click, click, click, went Darcy.

In the bright light several more dogs could be seen. But they lay there, unmoving. Clem let out a sob. ‘They’re dead!’

Bryce held up a sodden rag and sniffed. ‘Drugged more like it.’

Distracted by the dogs the kids lost track of the man. A footstep alerted them to his presence.

‘Aaaghhhh!’

A face loomed. There was a flash of silver, click, click, click, click, click, then an almighty grunt and a thud. The man crumpled to the ground, shock and surprise on his face. The knife clattered to the floor and the kids looked up.

It was Tong!

Suddenly, light flooded the warehouse. Four police officers swarmed through the door, yelling, ‘Hands up! You’re under arrest.’

But the man’s hands were going nowhere. He was out cold.

The police officers took no chances. One leaned on the man’s back. Two held down his legs and the
fourth twisted his arms. In a blink he was wearing handcuffs. The man stirred, then groaned.

Mio ran through the door with someone behind her.

Mr Lark!

They raced over to the kids gathered around the crates. ‘Thank God you’re all right!’ cried Mr Lark. They huddled together laughing and crying and slapping each other on the back.

Mio stepped away to video the evidence.

Eight crates were stacked together. In each crate lay the body of a dog. It was only then that the kids registered what had been happening. Beside the crates was a small fork-lift. Used syringes littered the floor. Most of the dogs were muzzled.

Clem went up to the beagle. The little dog opened an eye and tried to lift her head. She started to whimper. ‘Hush, little one,’ Clem whispered. ‘I’m going to get you out.’ The beagle tried to stand but she toppled over. Mio kept filming.

Two police officers continued to sit on the man who was now screaming obscenities. The other two policewomen searched the warehouse. They disappeared into a small room that looked as though it was once used as an office.

Clem slipped the latch to the crate and yanked open the door, then she scooped the beagle into
her arms and burst into tears. She crushed the dog to her chest, saying, ‘It’s okay. You’ll be all right. Promise.’ She buried her face in the beagle’s fur and began to sob.

The policewomen emerged from the office waving some papers in gloved hands. ‘Pedigree papers,’ one explained. ‘Forgeries, of course. And sales invoices.’

The other held up a tin box and added, ‘And quite a stash of money.’

‘Looks mighty suspicious.’

They turned to the kids. Bryce and Darcy were opening the crates with the help of Mr Lark. Mio stopped filming. There was no sign of the Chin. She felt a surge of disappointment.

Sirens could be heard, getting louder and louder. The warehouse door reflected the red flashing light as more police ran inside.

Clem found her voice telling them, ‘There’s others. Not just this man. The men pretend to be workers at the Braxxby Animal Shelter. They’re in on this, too. Not Elaine. She’s genuine. They steal the dogs, say that they’ve put them down, then smuggle them here to sell them off.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said a voice behind them. ‘We’ll get them.’

Another woman walked up to the group then halted in front of Clem. Clem gasped. It was the
jogger. ‘Looks like your cold cleared up,’ she said with a smile and held out her hand. ‘I’m Officer Pressman. Undercover.’

‘What?!’

Darcy took a step forward. ‘How’d you know?’

Officer Pressman laughed. ‘Got a call from a very agitated gentleman who ordered us to come here real quick! Or he was going to have us all demoted.’

The kids all turned.

‘Mr Lark!’

Mr Lark chuckled. ‘It’s an old trick. Works every time.’ He chuckled again then looked at the kids, pretending to be angry. ‘I knew you lot wouldn’t go home like I told you. Disobedient rascals. So, I called the police.’

Officer Pressman looked around. ‘By the time we got here you kids had it sewn up.’ She pretended to groan. ‘All that’s left for us is the paperwork.’

The two policewomen dragged the man to his feet and led him away. Another police officer spoke into a walkie-talkie issuing orders to ‘Get a search warrant’ and ‘Raid the animal shelter at Braxxby’. The fourth man began a meticulous search for more evidence.

‘Excuse me,’ said Mio, walking over, to Officer Pressman. ‘You can use this for your case. I filmed
everything. Including you and Clem.’ She grinned as she added, ‘Now you can see which is your good side.’

‘You were filming?’

‘Everything.’

Darcy also walked over, saying,
‘And
taking photos with a rapid shot and flash. There should be some beauties in this lot.’ He handed over the camera.

Officer Pressman whistled. ‘All that’s left is to call Animal Rescue and get these poor dogs taken care of.’ She grinned as she said, ‘And maybe a ride in a police car home?’

‘Yes!’

‘Yay!’

‘Cool!’

Suddenly, Bryce stopped. He looked at Officer Pressman in horror. ‘That video,’ he began, ‘I, um…it shows me picking the lock. Can that be used as evidence against me?’ His heart skipped a beat as he waited for her answer.

Officer Pressman put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Son. That video makes you a hero.’ Bryce slumped with relief. ‘Now, do you want that lift home with the siren on or off?’

‘On!’

‘You’re lucky you were allowed to bring her home,’ said Mr Lark. The kids were sitting around his kitchen table, making rocky road. Tong was there, too. And so was the beagle. She sat in Clem’s lap, her lips drawn back in a smile, wagging her tail as Clem tickled behind her ears. Every so often the dog tipped back her head to give Clem a big wet lick.

‘Weren’t we just? When the vet checked her over this morning we found out that she really isn’t microchipped. No-one knows where she comes from. Lucky for us.’

Mr Lark grinned at the dog nuzzling into Clem’s neck. ‘Lucky for her, too. Now, what are you going to call her?’

Darcy groaned. ‘Don’t start! We’ve been arguing all night.’

‘As well as
convincing Dad we should keep her.’

Mio smiled as she broke up a large block of chocolate into a bowl then asked, ‘How did you manage that?’

‘Easy.’ Clem fondled the dog’s ears. ‘We told Dad that as he’s home so little…’

Darcy continued ‘…and as there’s so many nasty characters out there…’

‘…that we need a guard dog.’

The dog rubbed her head against Clem’s hand then lay back, her paws waving in the air as she showed everyone her white belly.

Mio grinned. ‘Some guard dog!’

Bryce lined a slice tin with foil as Darcy grabbed another block of chocolate and started to break it up, too. ‘Why don’t you call her something with attitude? Like Rebel?’

Clem flicked her hair out of her eyes and pulled a face. ‘Darcy wants to call her Lou Lou.’

Bryce shook his head and chuckled. ‘Sounds like a toilet.’

Clem slapped her palm on the table, saying, ‘That’s what I said!’ She held the dog up for all to see. ‘Look at her. She’s too beautiful to be named after a loo.’

‘I agree. She is beautiful.’ Mio looked at the tan floppy ears, the white snout and the most soulful black eyes that looked like they were rimmed with kohl. ‘What about
utsukush
! It means beautiful in Japanese.’

‘Bit of a tongue-twister,’ said Clem.

‘Vietnamese word for beautiful is
,’ said Tong.

Clem smiled. ‘Both of them are lovely but they’re not quite right.’ She turned the dog round to look her in the face, then rubbed noses with her.

Darcy pretended to shudder as he flipped the last piece of chocolate into the bowl.

‘You’re a beautiful girl,’ said Clem in a singsongy voice. ‘Yes, you are.’

Mr Lark patted the dog’s forehead. ‘Why don’t you call her Bella?’ He looked around the table. ‘Means beautiful in Italian. And it’s a tad easier to say.’

Clem looked into the dog’s eyes and asked, ‘What do you think, little miss? Do you like Bella?’ The dog wagged her tail, her ears pricked, eyes darting around the table.

‘How stupid are you?’ Darcy shook his head. ‘As if she’s going to answer.’

‘Bella!’ called Mio.

Woof!

Clem whirled around to face her brother. ‘See?’ Then, she turned back to the dog. ‘Bella!’

Woof!

Bryce laughed. ‘Looks like that’s settled, then.’ He leaned over and shook the dog’s paw, saying, ‘Pleased to meet you, Bella.’

Mr Lark did the same. ‘Hello, Bella. Bet you’d love some of this, but chocolate’s no good for dogs.’ He put the bowl into the microwave to melt the chocolate. ‘You’re going to have to watch her, Clem. Beagles are very fond of food.’

Clem rolled her eyes. ‘A typical Jacobs!’

Mr Lark laughed. He removed the bowl and stirred the chocolate to make sure there were no lumpy bits then put it back on the table. From a cupboard he pulled out the rest of the ingredients: one packet of white marshmallows; one packet of pink marshmallows; some soft jelly worms; some crushed nuts and sultanas.

Bryce threw the jelly worms into the mixture as well as a handful of nuts. ‘Here, Tong.’ He pushed the sultanas across the table. ‘Put about the same amount of these in. We call this rocky road. It’s my favourite!’

Mr Lark busied himself with opening the marshmallows. He gave a packet each to Mio and Bryce. ‘Add these and stir quickly. We don’t want them to melt.’

Darcy grabbed the spoon and blended in all the ingredients, then he tipped the contents into the tin and spread them out. ‘Bags lick the bowl!’

‘Bags the spoon!’ Between Darcy and Clem the others didn’t get a look-in.

Tong frowned as he asked, ‘Where bag?’

Mr Lark chuckled. ‘Not a real bag. “Bags” means you get something before anyone else can get it.’ He took the tin and put it in the fridge.

‘In other words,’ said Mio, licking some chocolate off her fingers, ‘they’re acting like pigs.’

Tong’s eyes opened wider. ‘Pig?’

‘Never mind. You’ll get English soon enough.’ Mio reached over and patted Tong’s hand. ‘I should know. Took me a good twelve months or more.’

Tong didn’t look convinced.

Ten minutes later the slice was removed and cut into chunks. The kids dug in, all except Tong.

‘Mmmmm.’

‘Good.’

Even Mio was reaching for more.

‘Yummy.’ Bryce compared the squishy marshmallow to the crunchy nuts and decided he liked the chocolate bits best. He pushed the tray towards Tong, mumbling, ‘Here. Have some.’

Tong picked up a piece of rocky road. He sniffed it, then turned it over in his hand.

‘It’s good. Won’t hurt you.’ Bryce polished off a second piece. ‘See?’

Tong took a nibble. He chewed it up, pushing it around in his mouth.
‘Ngon!
Very good.’ Then he smiled as wide as tomorrow and took another bite.

Clem turned to Mr Lark, telling him, ‘Bella’s so clever. She sat in her basket in front of my bike and didn’t jump out.’

‘Another Freewheeler,’ said Mr Lark.

‘Yes, she is.’ Clem held out Bella’s paw and put her hand over the top. ‘Freewheeler.’ She looked around the room, saying, ‘Come on, everyone.’ Mio shook her head as if to say, This is ridiculous, but then added her hand to the pile. So did Darcy and Bryce. ‘Hey, Tong. You, too.’

Tong hesitated. He blushed so that even his ears turned red. ‘Freewheeler ride bike.’ He pointed to himself. ‘No bike. My bike at home in Vietnam.’

Mr Lark cleared his throat and said, ‘I might be able to fix that.’ He got to his feet and headed for the door, calling, ‘Come with me.’

All the kids traipsed out of the kitchen, down the hall and into the back yard. Then they followed Mr Lark to the garage. He winced as he bent down to pull on the door handle. ‘Rheumatism.’ To Tong he simplified it to ‘Bad back’. Once the door was open Mr Lark walked to the rear of the garage and pulled back a paintsplattered
drop-sheet. It was an old bike, a bit rickety, a bit rusty, but a bike.

‘Whoa!’ Darcy leaned closer. ‘She’s a bit battered, just like my Bullet, but that’s never a problem.’

Bryce turned to Mr Lark. ‘We can do her up. It won’t take much.’

The others crowded around.

‘A bit of paint.’

‘Some new tyres.’

‘And a bit of oil.’

‘And she’ll be as good as new.’ Mr Lark turned to Tong. ‘She’s yours, Tong. If you want her.’

Tong shook his head but smiled at the same time. He looked down.

Mr Lark placed his arm around Tong’s shoulders and said, ‘You’d be doing me a favour if you took it. One less piece of junk lying around.’

Clem took Tong’s hand and rested it on the handle. She put her hand over his then looked at the others. Three more hands were placed on top. Their voices rang out. ‘Freewheelers.’

‘Freewheeler!’

Tong’s was the loudest.

A few weeks later five riders flew down the hill in single file. In Clem’s basket, Bella’s ears fanned out like aeroplane wings as she lifted her snout into
the breeze. Her cheeks flapped as she smiled. The kids took the curve, knees almost touching the ground, then straightened up for a coast. Out in front Darcy checked for oncoming traffic. There was none. And so began a most magical sequence of swoops and glides and twists and turns. Of figure eights and circles and slaloms.

Go the Freewheelers!