Winter Rose

XIII. What Lies Beneath

Monster dog marched dutifully past the animal refuge and into the thick woods behind it, his nose still pressed hard to the ground.

"I bet he's been hiding out in these woods all along." Lance said.  He stepped over a mossy log, his eyes darting around, looking for movement in the dark patches in front of them.

"If he is, Splinter'll find 'em," Billy said. He gestured to monster dog proudly with a freckled hand.

"Splinter? Never heard that name for a dog before. How'd you come up with it?" Lance gave the dog a sideways glance.

"You ever watch the Ninja Turtles?" Billy asked, brushing away a swarm of gnats that were swarming near his face.

Lance shook his head. "We don't watch a lot of TV in these parts. Not just 'cause we don't get cable out here. We never have the time."

"That's too bad," said Billy. " 'Cause the Ninja Turtles are awesome. Splinter is their leader. That's where I got the idea."

Lance lifted an eyebrow. "Was Splinter a dog?"

"No, he was a rat, a really cool mutant ninja rat, the size of a man."

"Oh," Lance muttered.

We kept the humans in our sights as we navigating over piles of mossy logs, our feet crunching over small twigs and dried leaves. My ears were pinned forward, straining to hear the slightest sound of movement in the thicket.

"But, I should've named him Shredder," Billy said, breaking the silence. He patted the big dog on the head. "Once he finds what he's lookin' for, he'll shred 'em to pieces if you don't pull 'em off fast enough. I've seen it happen first hand."

I eyed the dog; its muscles tense, each step calculated as the scent drew him nearer to his prey—and found myself believing the boys every word. Splinter was not a dog you'd want on your trail.

"He had another name before he joined the force," Billy continued. " I think it was somethin' like Spot or Rover. Some generic dog name that wouldn't put the fear in people like Splinter or Shredder."

"Yeah?" Lance said, seeming preoccupied as he navigated through the thick brush.

"I mean, Spot might be an okay name for one of those dalmatians that ride on the back of a fire truck, but not a ferocious man hunter like Splinter." Billy drawled. "I guess I could've named him Cujo, now that was a scary dog. You ever seen Cujo?"

"Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. There's lots of places to hide around here," the officer cut in, making Billy jump in the air, his hand reaching for his gun.

"Put that thing away," the officer spat, fumbling for a cigarette. 

They stopped. Billy pulled on the determined dog, and commanded him to sit. The officer lit his cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke.  Winnie, Sparky and I stayed back far enough to remain out of sight, which wasn't hard to do. We'd traveled quite deep into the woods. The trees were so thick overhead, they blocked the sun and cast dark shadows everywhere.

My eyes started playing tricks on me, materializing looming figures in the shadows. I imagined a zombie-like José, one with black recessed eyes, brandishing an evil, fanged toothed grin, jumping out from behind one of the bushes—a bloody bat readied in his deformed hand. The vision was like something out of a B rated horror movie. It was so laughable, it helped set me at ease as the shadows seemed to grow in size around us.

"Do you think he's set up camp out here?" Billy shifted to the left as Splinter took up the scent in that direction. His thick red hair radiated in a patch of sunlight.