The Medusa Deception

Chapter 21

FEROCIOUS BARKING PIERCED the midmorning calm.

"You in there! Come out nice and slow. Hands in the air," commanded police officer Taft, a veteran Chicago cop called in to search the surrounding area of the Target store crime scene. The German Shepherd at his side pulled hard on its lead. Part of a trained K9 unit, they'd been a team for five years. The dog had never let him down before, but now it was all he could do to restrain it. It was going berserk.

Mandy shifted, rustling the dried leaves in her makeshift hideaway. She opened her eyes, squinted and looked around. "Oh yeah, I slept in the ditch last night. Lucky me," she muttered. She tried to sit up but there wasn't enough clearance. A branch scraped her face, ripping free the band-aid and reopening the wound from the toilet paper dispenser.

"Son of a bitch!" A fresh trickle of blood ran down her face.

"Ma'am, I'm not going to ask again. Come out from there, hands where I can see them." As he waited, he unfastened the holster snap holding his service weapon in place.

"OK, OK! I'm coming out. Just... I'm stuck in the branches, give me a minute." Mandy rolled to her hands and knees and crawled out from the ditch, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.

Officer Taft stepped back a couple of paces. The dog wasn't responding to his orders to calm or sit. The way it lunged at her, he worried it'd tear her to pieces if given half a chance. The dog's behavior was troubling.

Mandy stood and faced him. He instantly recognized her from the crime scene security videos. Removing one hand from the leash, he unholstered his weapon and aimed it at her. Over the incessant barking, he yelled, "On your knees, put your hands in the air!"

His arm jerked unsteadily from restraining the dog, his aim shaky at best. She started to comply but had an apparent change of heart. Against his bitter protests, she dove back into the bushes and scrambled out the other side.

The dog couldn't stand it. It made a final and powerful lunge into the ditch, following its prey. The leash ripped from his hands.

"Max! MAX!" he yelled.

The dog had a singular purpose; instinct trumped all of its training. The officer didn't understand - perhaps its instincts were sharper, seeing a threat he didn't.

On the way through the ditch, Max's leash caught on a branch. Violently, he clawed and ripped at the loose undergrowth until he found traction, snapping the branch, freeing his restraint.

The sound of squealing tires reached Officer Taft's ears as he called for backup. His heart leapt into his throat. What had gotten into that dog? He ran in pursuit, through an opening in the bushes and up onto the road. The dog was nowhere in sight; at least it hadn't been flattened.

Sirens approached, on their way to assist. An APB was issued with her description and last known coordinates. A perimeter was being established. That's what happened when you ran. Officer Taft shook his head in frustration.

* * *

NOT REALLY SURE what she was doing, Mandy had made a snap decision to avoid the cops. She didn't want to get wrapped up in the bureaucracy of the police, not until she knew more about what was going on with Ryan.

Across the road and into the trailer park she fled. Mobile homes crowded the space, old junkers cluttered the driveways, laundry hung on the lines. The high-density area provided excellent cover. Hopefully, the myriad of smells, sights and sounds would throw the rabid dog from her scent.

She had a healthy lead, but it was shrinking. After the squeal of tires behind her, the barking got alarmingly closer. She needed to do something to lose the bloodthirsty hound in pursuit. She wouldn't be able to outrun it for long.