He pulled out his phone and, without breaking stride, texted Laysha, asking if she was okay. She sent back a quick message.
Yes.
But it came back short and fast and made him nervous. He called her, trying hard to keep his breathing even. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
“I am now,” she said with relief. “Am I glad to hear you.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“I was followed,” she said and quickly explained what had happened.
He could feel his insides congeal. “Now that’s not good news,” he snapped.
“I don’t want anyone following us home,” she said, “but I did end up getting some help from people standing nearby, and I was lucky enough that a cop was one of them.”
“Good,” he said. “I’ll send a message to Ansel and ask him to look into it,” he said.
“I also told the cop about the shot that I heard. He said they’d been after the asshole for several murders but hadn’t found any bodies.”
“That’ll be an interesting thing to consider,” he said quietly.
“Well, I hope so. I didn’t want to let on what we were doing, and I didn’t want the dog to be brought up, in case you wanted to keep that out of the news. But I did want the cops aware that the property with the dead guy was really close to this asshole Huevo’s compound.”
“Right, and that’s a good point,” he murmured.
“Are you running?”
“Yes, the two of us are.”
“Oh, good,” she said. “I thought the dog was too badly hurt.”
“Yes, and no,” he said. “His back end is hurt, but we’re moving because we have to. We both know that, so no discussion is required.”
“I love that,” she said, “how that’s not an option in your world.”
“It isn’t,” he said, “but it is a little harder to talk at the same time.’”
“I’ll hang up.”
“No,” he said, “it’s good to hear from you.”
“Well, it’s good to hear from you too because I’m worried about you,” she said. “At the same time, I don’t know where to go and meet you.”
“And I don’t want you going home if I’m not there,” he said. “Depends if they know who you are.”
“No reason for them to,” she said.
“Maybe, but you know they’re smarter than we like to give them credit for.”
“They’re also assholes,” she said, “and believe me. As soon as I get home, I’ll be grabbing that rifle of mine.”
“And keep it close,” he murmured. “Make sure you keep it close.”
Putting his phone away, Caleb kept moving, feeling the miles eat away at his endurance. When he finally came to another creek, he immediately soaked his face deep in the water. The back of his head was in the water, as Beowulf moved into the creek beside him, lapping up and drinking to his heart content. “Not too much, boy. When we get moving again, it’ll be hard to run with full bellies.”
The dog looked at him but continued to drink.
Caleb knew how Beowulf felt. As Caleb oriented himself in his new location, he realized there was a good chance he’d already crossed the border. Moving out at a slower pace, he headed toward the closest highway.
He used the GPS on his phone and sent several messages to Badger, looking for directions, depending on where he was going. When he heard a vehicle, he stopped, hiding himself and Beowulf for a moment, and headed in the direction of the vehicle. What he needed to do was find out where he was and ensure it was safe for her to come get him here.
As they came upon one of the main highways, a gas station and a big pullout was up ahead. He moved cautiously forward, even as he dialed her. When there was no answer, he frowned, hung up, and then tried again.
Almost immediately she answered this time.
“There you are,” he said. “When you didn’t answer, I got worried.”
“I’m here,” she said. “Where are you?”
“There’s a gas station, but I’m not exactly sure what road I’m on,” he said. “I’ll talk to somebody to see where I am, but I have a general idea. I think I’m heading into town but about ten miles out.”
“Could you have traveled that far?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I’ve done at least twelve miles, if not fifteen. I don’t want to push the dog too much more.”
“How is Beowulf?”
“Hurt but game,” he said. “That’s all that I care about right now.”
“Right,” she said. “Well, I can head in your direction, so at least I’ll be close enough whenever you can figure it out.”
“I’ll see if Badger can track my phone,” he said. “Then I’ll give you better directions.”
“No problem,” she said.
When they hung up, he moved cautiously toward the gas station up ahead. It was a big one, and he looked down at the dog, already hesitant about going forward. He reached out and gently stroked the dog on the head. “It’ll be fine. Honest. We’ll make sure that you’re not in any trouble this time.”
And it wasn’t the dog’s fault last time; Caleb still didn’t know what had happened. When he got to the side of the gas station, he picked a shady spot off one corner and sat down, his hands gently smoothing the dog’s head, trying to calm him down. He had his hackles up, as he stared at the people moving around him.
“Not everybody is like that,” he murmured to the dog. The dog leaned against his hand, pushing his body weight against him. Emboldened by that, Caleb gently ran his hands over the dog, giving him orders to lift his paws, so that he could check them. Some of the pads were bleeding from the rough run. “You’ve been out of training, haven’t you?”
The dog looked at him, then rubbed his head against Caleb’s chin. Taking just a few minutes to relax and to bond, he ran his hands over the dog, until he got to the dog’s back end, where the dog immediately growled.
“I hear you,” he said, “but we’ll have to get that checked out.” He then ordered the dog to stand still, and the dog immediately complied, and he ran his hands gently over him to see what was going on. The leg wasn’t broken, but, if he wasn’t mistaken, it looked like a huge bullet burn ran along the dog’s back. It was deep and angry looking, if not infected. He sighed. “Did he already try to shoot you, buddy? That’s one asshole who needs some of his own medicine, if that’s how he thinks to treat a dog.”
After checking all four feet, making sure there were no other injuries, Caleb came back to give that wound a closer look. It needed stitching, if it were even possible to stitch at this point. It looked like the bullet had torn some muscle and done a fair bit of damage. Caleb came back around, gently stroking the dog on the head and the nose. “It’s okay,” he said. “You will heal. You might not be as pretty as you were before, but it’s okay because you’ll make it now.”
Beowulf leaned into him. There was no sign of a big aggressive dog at this point. But there shouldn’t be at any time with a military dog, unless he was on command for attack. In this case, the dog was just looking for a chance to get back to a normal life. To some human interaction. Whatever that would mean for him. He had to be shocked and scared by all that had changed.