Chapter 4

B rittany was still hunched underneath the dashboard when he turned on the engine, sat up a little bit, and started to back up. She couldn't understand how he could possibly drive in the dark as it was, but he was managing to. When he got his truck turned around, he headed down the road a little bit, and then he got out again.

She sat up, slipped out of the truck, and raced around to where he was looking at some trees. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He gave her a grin. "I'm blocking the road, so they can't get out."

She stared as he grabbed the chainsaw from the back of his truck, went over to a leaning tree, and proceeded to drop the tree across the road. She gasped and then stared at him. "That's freaking brilliant, but it's also stupid. They'll definitely know who did this."

"Yeah? Did you recognize my truck?"

"No," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean they won't."

"That's beside the point. What matters is, they'll have a lot more trouble trying to get out of here now," he said, "and, in the meantime, we'll contact the cops."

She held out his phone. "It's been buzzing like crazy."

He nodded, speaking into it. "Badger, what's up?"

"I could ask you that," Badger replied, his tone amused. "Does this license number have anything to do with the dogs?"

"Well, I don't know about the War Dog," he admitted, with a chuckle, "but it does have to do with somebody looting the properties under lockdown after the hurricane."

"Where are you?"

"I'm here, along with Brittany, in my truck. The occupants of the vehicle whose license plate I sent you are rummaging through the neighborhood. I just dropped a tree on the road to stop them from taking off."

"Brittany?" Badger asked, his tone calm but curious.

Brittany leaned over and introduced herself. "Hey, my name is Brittany Terrace. My grandma's got a house here, and I live a few blocks away. Baron helped me find my grandma's dog earlier."

"I'm glad to hear that," Badger replied, a note of laughter in his tone, as Baron just rolled his eyes.

"It's all fine," Baron noted, a bit irritated. "I'm still looking for the War Dog."

"Oh, and I'm so glad to hear you're taking care of the War Dogs," Brittany added.

"So," Badger asked Brittany, "any sign of him?"

"Not specifically, no. I did know Brad, and I knew that he was helping a lot of the local dogs," she shared casually. "At one point in time, I saw him around here. He had quite a full pickup load, and he was talking to somebody."

Baron turned to look at her, his tone sharp. "Do you know who he was talking to?"

She stared at him and then shook her head. "I didn't recognize them, and they did look a little on the angry side, but then a lot of people here have been angry because we've been shut out of our homes. We've not been allowed to get back to our places, and most of us have things that we wanted to try and salvage, like whatever we can," she murmured.

"Of course," Badger agreed. "That's always a fight with a natural disaster. By the time you're allowed back in again, often not a whole lot is left."

"Well, in this case," Baron noted, "these suspicious guys are up at the Gorman place, and I'm not sure anything is left there."

In the distance, she heard a bark. At that, Baron stiffened and turned to stare into the darkness.

"Was that a bark?" Badger asked, his tone deep and sharp.

Baron asked, "Can you bring the cops down here quick for these two guys? I need Brittany to go home, and then I'm going…" He hesitated, looked at her and added with a chuckle, "I'm going hunting."

"Will do," Badger replied. "Go easy."

After Badger disconnected, she looked at Baron, and he knew what was coming next. "Hunting?" she asked pointedly.

He nodded. "It's what I do."

"Well, I'm really glad to hear that," she snapped, seething, "but do you want to clarify?"

That lopsided grin made her heart flutter, and he shook his head.

"You really don't want to know," he said, "and you won't like it."

"You'll go hunt them, won't you?"

He nodded slowly. "It's what I do."

"Is it what you did before you got injured," she asked, "or after?"

"Before," he replied, shaking his head, "but the leg doesn't make a damn bit of difference."

He knew he sounded stiff, angry even, that she had brought up his injury, but it was to be expected. Most people expected him to be less than now, less effective, less capable, when in fact in many ways he found himself to be a whole lot better.

He certainly understood the value of life a whole lot more than he used to, and there were definitely other aspects to being injured and facing death multiple times. Even getting his legs back under him had been a life-changing experience.

"I'm not trying to insult you," she said, "but I don't want anything to happen to you. They've already shot at the vehicle—something I noticed you didn't mention to Badger."

He shrugged. "Didn't think of it, but I will."

"Will you?" she asked skeptically. "I hope he does get some law enforcement here."

"I do too," he agreed, "and soon because they'll be coming back this way fairly quickly."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" she asked, staring at him in shock. "It's not like we can just stand here and wait for them to blast through."

"I don't think they'll be blasting through anywhere," he noted, and he looked thoughtfully down the road. "Do you know if there are any other roads out of here?"

She shook her head. "I don't think there are, but I'm not seeing them coming this way either." She hesitated, and, as they both stared in the direction where the vehicle had gone, she pondered the situation. "Maybe they just haven't had a chance to pack up enough stuff yet."

"That could be it too," he agreed, with a gentle smile. "We'll give them just long enough to hang themselves."

She winced. "Do you have to use that phrase?"

"No, I sure don't," he said, his grin deepening, "but I like it."

She rolled her eyes. "I think you're bloodthirsty."

"No, I'm a realist," he clarified. "Now, I don't want anything to happen to you, so will you stay here, wait for the cops, go home, or what? It has to be your decision."

"What will you do?" she asked him suspiciously.

"Go down there and figure out which dog is barking nearby."

She frowned at that. "If I've learned anything in the time we have been together,… you're not going down there just after a dog, right?"

"No, not just a dog," he confirmed, "but it's probably a really good way to find out if it's the War Dog that I've been looking for." And, with that, he stared off in the direction from where the shot had been fired.

"I don't want to be alone," she whispered.

He nodded. "I don't want to take you with me because I don't want to put you in danger," he pointed out, then smiled at her. "The cops are right behind you." He tossed her the keys. "Take the truck back to your place. I'll meet you there in what, about an hour?" And, with that, not waiting to hear her response, he gave her the briefest of smiles and disappeared into the darkness, leaving her standing in shock.