‘We eating tonight?’ Dodge asked. Dodge was always hungry - being a fast growing dog. Right now morphing sapped too much of his energy and he couldn’t stay in the other state for long. But one day he’d be able to and when he could, Buick knew that Dodge would be his challenger for leadership of the Dog Collar Demons. When that day finally arrived, or that full moon rose, the lifelong friendship they’d enjoyed would end in a fury of incisors and claws. One of them would end up dead, or so mutilated that euthanasia would be an act of love. Tonight however, that bone of contention is in the future; tonight they’re in sync, like they’d been since they’d first left the territory together and struck out for Melbourne – ultimate predators on the prowl. Since Buick had assumed alpha dog status Dodge had been faithfully at his heel. Together they’d proven invincible – above the laws of man and nature; two preternatural joyriders with time to kill.
‘We’ll eat later.’ Buick rebuked his sidekick, ‘right now let’s just cruise.’
‘Cruise where?’
‘Where we always do, this is our hood.’
‘Dog, any fucking where we choose is our hood and it gets boring doing the same old circuit.’
‘What’d you expect in Essendon, the fucking Riviera?’
‘I’m just saying that’s all . . . it gets too easy.’
‘It’s easy because we make it look easy. You think humans could do this several times a month? Kidnap chumps off the street, rip ‘em apart or make ‘em vanish from the face and have no law involvement at all?’
‘Yeah but it’s no challenge dog, that’s all I’m sayin’.’
‘You say too fucking much dog, maybe you wanna go interstate and take on a vamp huh?’
‘Fuck yes, that’d be the shit baby.’
‘Yeah, it’d be the shit if you re-morphed too early and a gang of those cutthroat pretty boys bled you dry.’
None of them had fought a vamp since whenever, Buick’s old man had seen to that when he’d made that peace accord and for now Buick was okay living by it. But he’d checked it out and he knew full well he could take the vamps nerdy leader Cobol with relative ease. Buick was big, at least a foot and a half bigger than the tallest human male they’d ever seen – an advantage tripled when he morphed. So why waste energy fighting some geeky vampire just for pride’s sake? Nah, right now he was happy cruising, happy looking for some fun and fodder. Only this time the fun came with blue and red lights attached. ‘What the shit?’ Dodge said, glancing in the rear view.
‘Well, what a turn up huh,’ Buick offered from the passenger seat, ‘two pussies with balls.’
‘Two pussies with shit for brains more like.’ Dodge answered, ‘Whatcha wanna do with ‘em?’
‘Let’s play pin the tail on the kitty cat huh?’
Dodge didn’t need an explanation - he kept a steady speed despite the first burst of the siren from the patrol car tailing them. The cop car cut the distance between them – gave a longer siren burst. ‘Not yet,’ Buick instructed his protégé, ‘make ‘em good ‘n’ angry.’
Dodge smiled . . . it was a bastard of a smile. The cops got pissed off, came right up on Dodge’s bumper and used the pansy hailer to warn them to pull it over. ‘Go a ways yet.’ Buick said casually. Dodge obliged, this was turning out to be fun after all. Finally Dodge rolled the old Holden to a slewed stop in a grubby back street with shitty lighting.
‘Don’t you fuckin’ have him till I’m ready okay?’ Buick ordered; ‘I don’t fancy getting’ shot by some trigger-happy bluebottle with shaky hands.’
‘You can trust me dog . . .’ Dodge joked as the cop came up alongside his window and rapped angrily on it in acting out his pseudo authority. Dodge rolled the pane down casually. ‘Are you fucking stupid?’ The cop demanded shining a torch into Dodge’s face. And then the cop stepped back slightly from the stench of Dodge’s breath. No man, are you?’ Dodge replied. Then turning to Buick; ‘Look dog, fresh pig still on the trotter!’
‘Get the fuck out of the car boy.’ The cop demanded, his hand on his gun holster menacingly as Buick watched the other toy soldier step outta the patrol car behind. ‘Why don’t you climb on in hog?’ Dodge countered.
‘What the fuck?’ The cop at Dodge’s window said in dismay as his colleague reached Buick’s side of the idling car. ‘Yeah, what the fuck huh, come on pussy, climb in, we’ll take you and your girlfriend there for a spin, buy you a milk shake.’ Dodge barked happily.
‘One last chance shit face.’ The cop said. ‘Out, now.’
What happened then happened so fast that neither cop had any chance of doing anything – even realising they were about to die. Dodge’s arm flew towards the cop – his massive hand wrapping around the cop’s neck, crushing the windpipe as he yanked the cop’s head into the car – just the head; the cop’s body still stood there momentarily shining a little light. Buick’s reactions were even faster - he’d taken the window glass with him as he’d lashed out – his curled fist smashing into the other cop’s chest - sending the guy flying into the brick wall behind. Buick stepped out, looked down at the winded guy fumbling for his weapon – stood on the cop’s trigger hand then ripped the guy’s heart from its cavity in one savage orgasm of efficient brutality.
‘Swap you a head for a heart?’ Dodge laughed, holding up his trophy by its hair and licking its distorted face.
‘You know I can’t stomach cop brains, go get the remains man.’ Buick ordered.
Dodge drove back to the pound with the two torsos in the car’s boot – Buick having already consumed cop two’s heart.
‘Hey, where’s mine?’ Dodge whined.
‘You never share your meals dog.’ Buick re-iterated, wiping blood from his mouth.
Nah, ya don’t Dodge thought, it was a lesson he’d learned and one he’d need to implement when the day he took on Buick for pack leadership finally rolled around. Right now, he just wanted to eat - even if it was cold cop brains.
‘You know what we oughtta do?’ Buick belched.
‘Rob a liquor store?’ Dodge replied happily, the severed cop’s head bouncing between his legs as he drove.
‘We oughtta learn to fly dog.’
‘What like in planes, what we need to fly for?’
‘No not like in planes, like in flying.’
‘Dog that cop’s heart has gone straight to your head, we’re fuckin’ werewolves and werewolves don’t fly baby!’
‘I know that, but I’m just thinking, I mean, say we had to fight those caped crusaders one day, the only advantage they have over us is flight.’
‘That’s some crazy shit dude, none one of us would be crazy enough to try a stunt like that?’
Buick smiled at his offsider. ‘No way dog.’ Dodge replied immediately.
‘Not you baby, what about Hummer? That dog is rabid crazy I swear.’
‘Hummer flying? Man that’s some shit I’d have to see!’
‘We could get that hangar out at the old airport?’
‘Yeah,’ Dodge replied as he pulled the car up to the Dog Collar Demon’s pound cum clubhouse, outside were the usual gaggle of suburban females, the ones looking for some real excitement and the thrill of being a biker’s chick. Dodge hit the car’s horn twice and the gates slid open, he saw Cadillac standing there smiling. ‘I want me that red-headed one dog.’ He said to Buick. Buick shrugged, red-headed, blonde-headed, no-headed, it was all the same to him, weren’t one of ‘em suitable to carry his heir, that lucky chick hadn’t turned up yet, but when she did he’d know immediately. Dodge leaned out the car window to Cadillac, told the younger dog to let the redhead in. He heard her remonstrating with Caddy about her friend getting in too, heard Caddy telling the bitch to get the fuck inside or fuck the hell off. Caddy had a way with words . . . he’d make a good right hand hound when the time came.
Buick woke up late, looked around somewhat bemused. Checked his mouth – no dried blood. Thank fuck, it'd just been another of those weird dreams, like as if him and Dodge would kill cops just for kicks, what were they, animals? But he knew that all dreams had some basis – a basis in deep-rooted fears maybe. Dodge was getting bigger every day it seemed, and one day . . . yeah well, that was one day. There was still the matter of Cobol, not that Cobol really mattered. He yawned, stretched, listened to the sounds of another human day . . . he just had too much on his mind right now that was all what with organising the annual pool party. Even werewolves had to be seen to be contributing to their community somehow. The thought made him smile, he got up and strode out into the pound, stood there a while looking up at the clear blue as if he'd never seen it before, scratched his neck once or twice. Then he saw Cadillac escorting some red-headed female toward the pound's gate . . . what the? He thought.
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