The Great Eight

Chapter 29

"The Pure did this to you?" Blackjack's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yes. I found them....in sewers...." Bear's words were cut off by a horrible choking noise in his throat, following by a spray of blood surging from his mouth. His body went into violent spasms.

"Shit!" Blackjack yelled. "Baron, go get a nurse dog!"

But the Rottweiler just stood there, his eyes bulging in horror. For once, the fierce veteran soldier seemed at a complete loss of what to do.

Bear was now still. Everyone was frozen to the spot, their eyes transfixed on the administrator's shredded pelt. Riley could hardly believe that Bear had been able to run any sort of distance with such ghastly wounds. He must have used the last of his energy to flee and warn the rest of the Flashing Fangs. But he couldn't have run far—the dogs that had done this must be nearby.

Blackjack broke the silence. "Everyone, get to the plaza, now!"

A series of frantic barks came from the dogs arriving at the plaza. The administration and several guards were standing there, startled at the sudden appearance of Platoons 8 and 10.

"Bear is dead!" Blackjack howled. "The Pure killed him! They're near the city!"

Wails of horror rang out as Thunder ran to meet Blackjack. Quickly, he told the lead administrator what had happened. With round, disbelieving eyes, Thunder slowly backed away from Blackjack. Then, the mastiff sank down to his haunches and let out a deafening, chilling howl. At first, Riley thought he was mourning his fallen comrade, but quickly realized that this was a warning howl to anyone within earshot.

"Set up a perimeter around the plaza, now!" ordered May over the sound of Thunder's baying. "Platoons 8 and 10, take up position on those balconies!" She gestured to two similar-looking buildings on opposite sides of the plaza, each with a wide balcony sticking out from the middle floors. Baron led his platoon towards one of them, while Blackjack led his towards the other.

"Good luck," Blackjack told Baron, just before the two platoons separated.

"You too," grunted Baron.

Riley followed his comrades up the black staircase that zigzagged along the building, until they reached an open window that was level with the balcony. Quickly, they made their way there, spreading out in a row, with Violet and Maverick guarding from behind.

And then, almost as soon as they'd taken up position, the air rumbled with the sound of powerful, furious howls and barks. Huge dogs streamed into the plaza from every direction, their fangs spread and eyes gleaming murderously. They seemed to approach in slow motion, drool flying from their jaws.

And then, suddenly, Thunder was leaping through the air. The leader of the Flashing Fangs soared high over the crowd of Pure soldiers, and crashed down onto a ginger Tibetan mastiff. The two massive dogs rolled along the ground, becoming a blur of beige and orange. Almost immediately, the air became thick with the reek of blood, as dogs everywhere flew at each other.

Overwhelmed, Riley's legs nearly buckled underneath him, but he held his ground. The plaza seemed to be alive with writhing, snarling dogs. Riley could see now why the Flashing Fangs got its name from—he saw white flashes everywhere, as the soldiers' fangs sliced through their enemies' pelts. A brown Tibetan mastiff collapsed on its side with a huge gash in its throat.

"Are we winning?" Riley whispered to Blackjack.

"We'll be alerted if they need backup," Blackjack murmured. The shepherd's tone was calm, but his eyes were wide and body was tense as he watched the battle. Riley guessed that even the veteran soldiers of the Flashing Fangs had never seen a battle of this scale.