KC Frantzen - May the K9 Spy 03 - May Leads the Way: Trouble Near Tofino (3 page)

Chapter 6

A
terrifying tremor shakes the world.

Instinct seizes us dogs. We bolt for a shadowed corner by the shelves to huddle, paws covering our ears. The humans run to clutch one another.

The roar frightens me, even more than hearing Rukan. After a long, long moment, things are still. Dad grimaces and flatly says, “The missile launched. No way Doherty made it.”

Mom moans and stumbles to check each door but all are sealed. Dad reaches for the files but several crumble in ashes. We gather around, hopeful, as he examines the display and pushes a button. “Hello? Anybody? Hello?” He turns to Mom. “Babe, am I doing this right?”

Whoa – the entire board just went dark, most overhead lights too. I jump out of the way as Dad rolls his chair back. “Remember what Agent Doherty told us?”

Mom nods. “Things will start happening, and if there was a bio-agent… even worse.” She sniffles. “I can’t… believe… he’s gone.”

Sigh.
Agent Tyrone Doherty. He gave his life trying to protect others. He seemed to be only a limo driver, but was so much more. Will his family ever know of his bravery?

If, I mean when I get out, I’m going to find them and tell them what happened. If they survived.

Wonder how extensive this event really is? What about CHS, my Copperhead friend? He lives nearby. Did he make it? If it was national, like HQ thought, then how are the others at the K9 Spy Service? Miss Sandy? Sassy in the hospital? Edgrr? Ms. Schwind? General Jim and the Colonel?

And Rukan!
Grrrr.
I almost sense him celebrating the destruction of our country, wherever he is.

I watch my family for a moment. We’re still breathing. We’re trapped, but safe. For now. The Creator always provides a way. And usually not how I expect.

I stamp my paw. If… I mean
when,
I get out of here, I
will
bring Rukan to justice.

Mom puts her hands on Dad’s shoulders. “Who knows how long we’ll be here? Guess I’d better check provisions.”

They hug, then she moves to the living quarters, picking up Rukan’s trash as she goes. Hans follows, while April starts patrol.

In between attempts to contact the outside Dad tells me, “From what Agent Doherty told us, the bunker is well-protected and supplied, ready for an event like this. If it was an EMP, it won’t be world-wide. But like he said, they’re not sure what was in that warhead. We’ll wait a week, then see what’s what.”

April passes by, mumbling to herself. “Miss Sandy was here often. Sassy too. I was, once.”

Mom looks dazed staring at the shelves. Dad rummages around the limo and retrieves the few items they grabbed from the house. Uh oh… There’s my favorite “up-to-something” smile of his, then…

“INCOMING!”

An orange and purple object soars then bounces silently on the concrete floor.

“Oh Dad, you remembered!”

I snatch Lobbie by the antennas and prance, so its claws smack me side to side. I yip, “Who’d like to play to take our minds off things?”
Grrrr. Grrrrrrrr.
As I run my motor, I give Lobbie another shaking.

Mom looks at me, eyes watery. “Not now, May Muffin. Not now…”

Piffle. I was so excited to share my adventures… my mission in Paris after the dognapping, meeting Léonce and Alexis, Mr. Vince and Miss Coralee, stopping Rukan (that time), finally finishing boot camp…

I missed my family so much.

Sigh.
Guess I need an attitude check. After all, Agent Doherty just made the ultimate sacrifice… For sure, I’m going to get Rukan. I don’t know how. But I am.

I take a deep breath. Hmm. Must be some kind of filtered ventilation system down here. The temperature is comfy, there’s plenty of air, but how strange we won’t feel cool breezes or smell rain or grass.

Lobbie and I meander to the sleeping section and hop onto the built-in bunk. Putting my head on Lobbie’s claws, I watch Dad and Mom organize their things and nose through some of the clear plastic bins on the shelves.

Dad holds out a container cover. “Hey Babe, there’s all sorts of items: batteries and candles, paper products, medicines, clothing, eating utensils… This bin has a super assortment of dehydrated foods.”

MRE’s. Yum! They served Meals-Ready-to-Eat at boot camp though we dogs weren’t allowed to sample the human varieties.

Mom opens another. “Kibble packs. Must have been for Sassy.” A smile whispers across her face. “Sassaroon… Sandy said she’s in for a long recovery… Well. All this is making me hungry, what’s new. Anybody else?”

Gasp.
I jump down and dash to join them. “Wait! Is everything sealed?”

Nose elevated, April strides near Dad and woofs, “I shall carry on protecting the family. I know Rukan’s scent.”

Mom holds out the MRE packs while April checks each one carefully.
Sniff, sniff.
Then the kibble packs and the containers themselves.

She gives a brisk nod.

Dad says, “Thanks, Apey. Good thinking, May. With only a first aid kit and no access to a doctor… We’ll be alright, everybody. God is faithful, even in the dark times. Babe, if you’ll get started, I’ll search the files about the water supply.”

Mom reaches down to straighten my whiskers. “Missed you, May Muffin.”

Thlbpt.
I softly woof, “Missed you too, Mom.”

April joins Dad at the desk but Hans and I stay with Mom, wagging our tail nubs enthusiastically. He starts circling and singing.

Nice to hear Mom’s laugh again. “Hang on guys, you can eat first. You’ll have to make do with designer placemats.” She scoops our individual portions onto paper towels.

After chasing them across the floor, I show Hans how to place a paw on a corner. Finally.
Crunch crunch crunch gulp.
We scarf down our meals, then eye April’s pile of kibble. “Would she notice?”

Hans catches my attention. “Tempting, but impolite to pilfer, at least while she’s helping Dad.”

I give him a look and creep three steps over.

“
Ggrrrr.
Back off, Pest.”

Drat. April snuck up behind me. I mutter, “I was obviously in Condition White. Good reminder to be alert. Cooper wouldn’t be pleased.”

Hans says, “What’s Condition White? Who’s Cooper?”

“He was our Combat Mindset instructor in K9 Spy boot camp. He taught us the four Conditions. White: Unaware and unprepared, Yellow: Relaxed alert, Orange: Specific alert, Red: Fight.”

April smirks. “You were definitely Condition White.”

Dad calls out, “There’s an underground reservoir. If it’s full, we shouldn’t run out of water for a long time. April will check it first. We found a generator with outside ventilation. We’ll have power for hot water when I crank it up.”

Mom says, “I’ll find some containers.”

Terrific, I’m parched! But I hope she finds bowls for us dogs. Human glasses are too deep to navigate.

For dinner, Dad chooses “Beef Stroganoff with Noodles” and Mom, “Chicken Alfredo.”
They mix in heated water and eat right out of the bag.

Smells soooo good I’d be happy to help with cleaning chores. I’m so thoughtful.

Soon Mom wipes her mouth then stuffs the paper towel inside the MRE bag. “Easy all the way around. But, where do we toss the trash?”

Dad gathers everything and says, “The plans show a vented incinerator near the power source. We’re to place all waste inside, fire it up and the waste turns to ash. We’ll thrive
if
we keep our wits about us. Something I’ve been wondering though. Does it seem darker?”

Mom nods. “Yeah. Some lights are growing dim. What’ll we do if they go out?”

Chapter 7

D
ad looks around the bunker. “I think we’ll be okay. Seems like there’s some natural sunlight, but how?” He locates a ladder and places it under one of the light fixtures, suspended from the high ceiling. “It’s a fiber-optic set up. Must go topside. At least we can tell when it’s nighttime.”

After, I snuggle with Dad as he pulls out a floor plan. “What do you think of this, May? Let’s check out the bathroom.”

I hop down to follow.
Good idea, Dad. Since there’s not any grass, I hope there’s newspaper.

We enter a narrower space with a fireplace scent. Odd. I spot a small shower and sink with a shelf holding quick-dry towels. Behind a drape there’s an area for us dogs. No grass under paws, but fine. Miss Sandy thought of everything.

When Mom joins us, Dad shows her the strange toilet. “It has an incinerator to burn up the waste.”

“Just like the trash. Amazing.”

After we all use the bathroom Mom says, “It’s been quite a day, let’s turn in.”

Dad chuckles. “What do you want to turn in to?”

Mom gives him a look. “Verrrry funny.”

April takes the only dog bed. Of course. She’s senior. Hans nestles on a small mat in the kitchen. Which means… I
might
get to snooze with Dad and Mom, though the small bunk will be cozy for the three of us. I’ll be at the ready, just in case.

After rearranging several times, Mom drags the top mattress onto the floor. “What if we place them side by side to sleep, then stack them on the bunks during the day?”

Dad gives her a hug and smooch. “Brilliant, Babe. C’mon May, you’ll fit.”

Quick as a blink, I settle between them.

“That’s pushing it, little girl.” Dad scootches me over.

Thlpbt.
“Okayyy. Thanks for the invite, Dad.”

Once we’re situated, Dad intertwines his fingers with Mom’s and speaks softly. “Heavenly Father, we don’t understand all that’s happened. Nor do we know what’s
going
to happen.” He pauses and seems to collect his thoughts. His voice cracks a little. “But You are the God of the universe. We trust that You know the past, present
and
the future and we’ll rest in this.”

When he stops, Mom snuggles closer and adds, “We are most grateful for this shelter and for who You are. Please bring those who planned and executed this attack to justice. We ask special blessings for Agent Doherty’s family. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

“Amen. Thanks, Babe.”

Mom sniffles. “Thank you, Hon. I love you.”

He rolls over to give her a proper kiss. “Whole bunch many. See ya in the morning.”

Now I feel at home, such as it is. Like Dad said earlier, “We’re together. We’ll be fine.”
Yawn.
I’ll just close my eyes…

When darkness surrenders to light, Dad marks the logbook Day One.

Several times I hear Dad or Mom sneak to the control board, trying to reach the outside.

But no one answers.

We settle into a routine. Our biggest challenge, besides finding a way out and some privacy, is to fill the time. We all exercise and stretch at least twice a day. I lead some K9 Spy routines, at least the unclassified ones. Mom does Mom stuff and organizes our schedule. Dad works on plans for our escape plus reads aloud from the Bible after breakfast and before dinner. Hans excels at his companion dog job. April patrols morning, midday, mid-evening and just-prior-to-lights-out. Otherwise she helps Dad, Mom and me look through files to find a way out.

And then…

On the sixth day, after morning exercises, Dad settles in at the desk as usual. On my return from the toilet he shouts, “I found the ventilation shaft! It’s right here on the drawing. How’d we overlook it?”

Wonder of wonders.

We’re anxious, hopeful even, as he climbs onto the kitchen table, then balances on a chair.

He flatly states, “Shaft is still too high to reach… too narrow.”

I tip my head way back. Maybe if I could get up there… But how?

Ear flick. I spy Mom sneaking off to the bathroom, the only place with privacy, and follow using my stealthy cat walk.

When she sees me, she says, “I’m okay. Really. May, don’t tell Dad.” She daubs her eyes and adjusts her hair. “I’d better go prepare dinner.” She takes a deep breath, heads for the kitchen and begins singing a pretty song. “Glorious things of thee are spoken…”

At the table, Dad tries to lighten our mood by sharing memories of work travel – desert meals with Bedouin, walking ancient bridges in Germany. Mom even joined him in Eilat where they swam with dolphins.

I wiggle my whole self. “We learned about human/dolphin teams in boot camp. And my Paris mission I told you about was the first time anyone used bees.”

Tonight, it’s April’s turn to lead the active entertainment so she chases her tail. Since I don’t have much of one to chase myself, I help chase hers. Since she isn’t too crazy about that, Dad picks me up “for a twirl around the floor.”

It gives me an opportunity to whisper, “Dad, why aren’t you eating much dinner lately?”

He cuddles me close. “Don’t tell Mom, but I’m concerned about rations. I don’t know how long we’ll be trapped.”

Good point. I’ll cut down too.

After exercising, we get comfy and listen to a made-up-on-the-spot story. Mom starts, “In a desolate cabin, tucked far into the mountains…” Over an hour later Dad ends with “So, if you want to be a bear, be a grizzly.”

I don’t know what a grizzly is, but it made the humans laugh.

April shares too. She woofs, “I was resting on a sunny afternoon when a foolish young squirrel began to taunt me. The youngling miscalculated my athleticism. When he ran up a leaning tree, I dashed behind him.”

Mom snuggles Hans as she giggles. “It happened so fast, there was no time to get the camera.”

When I tilt my head Dad explains. “At that time, cell phones were only for phone calls. Apey, you were sniffing and snuffling because you
knew
that squirrel was around. You couldn’t see him. But we could. He was gripping the underside of the trunk, just below
your paws. The look on your face…”

My sister cuts her eyes away and yawns.

Dad scruffles her ears. “We aren’t laughing at you, April, just with you. Who knew you could climb trees? Bet that squirrel never bothered you again.”

She sits a bit taller and yips, “No. He did not. I taught him a lesson. Because you have not seen something previously, does not mean it is outside the realm of possibility.” Her lip curls with a smirk as she addresses me. “But remember this, Pest. He taught me one as well. Never underestimate your prey.”

Fizzzzzz splitchity
POP
.

Ear flick. Hans and I scan the room, but the others continue chatting as if nothing happened.

I turn to my brother. “What do you think that was? I better check–”

Lights flicker, then…
complete
darkness. Something swooshes through the air.

“RrrrRRRAAAWWWFFFFfffff,” snarls Hans.

Mom screams, “Get it off, get it off!”