The man leaning on the car stood up when he heard Ben's voice. Jack saw him take a half a step away from the car. When the man rose, a dog started barking from within the car.
“Shut up,” commanded the man.
The dog continued barking until the man slapped the car window. Moving a little closer, Jack saw the dog appear in the window on his side. Jack froze. He hoped the dog would stay quiet. Ben continued to call through the walkie-talkie, but Jack couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying. The man took one more glance back at the car and then headed off towards the scratchy voice of Ben.
Bracing his nerve, Jack rushed through the thick woods and reached the car as the man disappeared on the far side of the road. The dog watched Jack open the rear passenger door. Jack thought he recognized the yellow labrador retriever. The dog wore a black collar and panted and wagged as he pushed his way out of the car. Jack paused to think; he gently brought the door back to the frame without pressing it fully shut.
He glanced in the direction he had last seen the man, and then Jack ran back into the woods on the far side of the road. He wanted to move quietly, but focused more on getting quickly out of sight. The dog bounded alongside Jack. The bushes became thicker and harder to navigate while the ground squished under their feet. Jack stopped to consider the best way to make it through this marsh.
“Jesus, fuck,” Jack heard a voice far behind yell. He stood perfectly still and heard a car door slam. Moving to his left, he tried to skirt the wet area as the dog plowed through the mud. He shushed at the dog to no avail. When he reached a dry spot, Jack started to run. He figured he was moving approximately parallel to the road.
Ben lifted his finger from the “Send” button and looked at Stephen.
“Do you think that’s enough?” Ben asked. Stephen was poking his head over the lip of the pit, watching Smoker and Bag Man.
“I guess so,” Stephen replied. “There’s really know way to know, unless the guy answers back.”
“Let’s wait a minute and see if anyone picks up,” said Ben.
They both turned their attention to the guys with the gun. Bag Man was arranging the dead body of the cat. A second later, he trotted away and joined Smoker again. They watched intently until a small explosion lifted the dead cat from the ground. They laughed and ran over to see the damage.
“Those guys are like movie-evil,” said Stephen. “It’s like a gag — I mean who would be that sick?”
“Look!” said Ben.
Down in the pit, Smoker and Bag Man broke off their game with the fireworks and dead cat and made their way towards an approaching man. They met up at the spot the boys had dubbed The Salt Flats, and had a lively conversation. The older guy was gesturing and pointing back towards the parking area. Smoker nodded and tucked his gun back in his waistband. The three then stalked off in the direction of the car.
“Do you think that was the guard?” asked Stephen.
“Must be, but why would they even have a guard?” asked Ben.
“We should get ready, in case we have to make a quick getaway,” said Stephen.
Ben and Stephen worked quickly to pack up their supplies and don their backpacks. Ben carried the walkie-talkie, and Stephen carried Jack’s pack. The two headed down the hill.
“You know, we’re just as likely to miss him if we move — maybe we should stay put,” said Ben.
Footsteps coming up the hill made them stop. They were joined by the exuberant yellow labrador whose muddy tail slapped at their legs. Following close behind, Jack met up with them next.
“They had this dog in their car,” said Jack. “We should get out of here.”
“Are we taking this dog with us?” asked Ben. “Your mom will shit.”
“We’ll figure that out after we get away from here,” said Jack.
“Yeah, let’s get gone,” agreed Stephen.
The boys consulted briefly on direction and then jogged off into the woods.
Back at the tent, Jack examined the collar on the dog.
“He’s got a rabies tag, and a state registration,” said Jack. “No address or anything. I thought I'd seen him before, but now I'm not sure.”
“There must be someone we could call,” said Ben. “We’ll just say he wandered up to the house.”
“What if he belongs to one of those guys though?” asked Stephen.
“Jesus, would someone do that to their own dog? Nobody would do that,” said Ben.
“You never know,” said Jack. “Maybe we should think about it.”
“Well, even if it is connected to those guys, would they know that we grabbed the dog?” asked Ben. “You said that you left the door cracked — maybe they just thought the dog got out by accident.”
“Shit! The walkie-talkie! We should have grabbed it,” said Jack.
Stephen shook his head — “No way, we’ll go back for it. They might already have it, but either way, we should wait until night or something to go find it.”
The boys played with the dog and discussed their options for the rest of the afternoon. They settled on a secret night-trip through the woods and planned their assault. Leaving the dog at the tent, they went inside to use the computer to check on the moon rise and weather information.
Armed with notes on the time and date to make their next trip, the boys were about to head outside when Jack’s mom interrupted them. She had found the dog nosing around the back door.
“Do you boys know anything about this dog?” she asked.
“What dog?” Jack played dumb.
“There’s a big dog sitting outside the back door, and I don’t even have to get close to you to see dog hair all over your shirts,” she countered.
“It showed up this morning. We just played with it for a little bit — it didn’t have any name or address on its collar,” said Jack.
“Well is it registered?” she asked.
“I think so.”
“Then we’ll call over to the town hall,” she said. “I’m sure its owners are looking for it. You can help me by looking on its collar for a registration number.”
“Okay,” said Jack.
Dinner that night was one of the mandatory family dinners. Jack, Ben, and Stephen sat uncomfortably at the table with Jack’s parents. They ate quickly and quietly — anxious to be away from adult supervision.
“Tell your dad the exciting news of the day,” said Jack’s mom.
“Huh?” asked Jack — a little panicked.
“The dog,” prompted Ben with a whisper.
“Oh, yeah, a dog showed up here today.”
Jack’s mom took over the story: “His name is Buddy. The town hall sent over animal control because the Harrisions are out of town. It’s their dog, but they had dog walkers while they’re on vacation. At any rate, he’ll be staying with the Harrison’s vet until they get back.”
“How did he get over here? Don’t the Harrisons live on the other side of the highway?” Jack’s dad asked. Jack's parents knew everyone in town because of his father’s business and his mother’s former association with the town hall.
“Well, Linda said that Buddy sometimes wanders,” said Jack’s mom.
“Who was walking him? They must have been embarrassed.”
“She didn’t say,” Jack’s mom replied.
That night the boys stayed inside — spreading out sleeping bags on the floor in the basement. They scheduled their nighttime mission to recover the walkie-talkie for the night after next so they could have the right moon and clear weather.
Without his sling, Jack felt free. All three boys were nervous and excited, but Jack was beyond excited, he was beside himself. Unable to sleep, they engaged in scattered conversation that roamed easily from subject to subject. They kept the lights off so their eyes would adjust to the dark. The moon illuminated the walls of the tent, and the shadows of trees danced. The night was warm but comfortable, with a slight breeze.