100% Wolf (7 page)

He looked down at his ring once more. He
remembered the glorious night when he had fought the
Black Wolf of Milford. The stone had burnt his hand
that night. One of those dogs must be a werewolf.

'I wonder?' Dr Cripp said, his eyes narrowing.
He stood up and with a somewhat unsteady step
began to follow in the direction of the two dogs, a
crazed gleam in his eyes.

'I can't do it,' Freddy called back into the shed.

'You have to balance on three legs,' Batty told him
in amazement. How could a dog be so pampered he
doesn't know how to have a wee?

'Oh, I get it now.' Freddy laughed with relief – he
had been holding it in for hours. When he had finished
he returned to the shed.

Full after their meal of stolen sausages, the two
dogs curled up against each other and slept for a
while. Freddy drifted into an uneasy dream, where he
was running back to Farfang, chased by Dr Cripp. But
when he arrived, it was too late to save the werefolk
from the dreaded man. He jumped awake with a start.
Batty raised a sleepy ear off her eye to look at him.

'What's the matter, Stinky?' she said sleepily.

'I have to go home to Farfang Castle right now!'
he told her urgently. 'I've already wasted too much
time.'

'Is that in Australia?' Batty yawned kindly. She felt
sorry for Freddy being so far from home.

'Grr ...' Freddy rumbled uncertainly, not sure
what to say. He had almost forgotten his elaborate
lies from earlier. In fact he couldn't remember exactly
what he had said to Batty.

'How will you get there?' Batty continued. 'Is it far
to the other side of the world?'

'Grr ...' Freddy replied again, at a loss for a good
story. 'Yes ... Farfang Castle is in the woods on the
other side of the river,' he said at last. He was hoping
that Batty's doggy brain wouldn't work out that he had
fibbed.

'What does
castle
mean?' Batty growled, her eyes
narrowing.

'It's a huge house built of stone, with towers and
a big gate,' Freddy snorted. 'Fancy not knowing that.'
He was a rather foolish pink dog to try to make fun
of her just then. Batty, however, wasn't foolish in the
least and she didn't like being lied to.

'I know the place you mean. It's the House of Howls,
where the Red Wolf lives,' she snarled suspiciously,
standing up.

'How do you know about the wolf?' Freddy gasped
with horror. It was supposed to be a secret. If everybody
in Milford knew, they would never be safe
again.

'Every dog around here knows about him. None of
us can stand wolves – horrible, vicious animals. You
said you was from Australia. The House of Howls is
on the other side of Milford, not the other side of the
world.' Batty was really angry now and Freddy began
to feel nervous.

'No dog would never go near the House of Howls,'
she continued. 'The Red Wolf don't even sound like
a normal animal, more like some sort of... I don't
even know what. It's a terrifying place.'

'Well, yes, Uncle Hotspur can be quite scary,'
Freddy admitted, then grimaced at his own stupidity.

'Uncle?'
snarled Batty. 'The Red Wolf is your uncle?
How is that possible?'

'Grr ...?' he answered.

'What about Australia then?' she snarled louder.

'Grr ... mmmhmnn?' Freddy's mind was a blank.

'You've been telling me lies all the time,' she
growled at last.

'It wasn't me!' Freddy yipped idiotically, backing
towards the door.

'Well, who was it then? Who are you anyway? I
told you, smelly little poodle, that if you were lying
I'd bite your tail off.' Freddy didn't want his tail bitten
off. He turned, ran through the door and scooted off
back down the alley. Behind him he heard the sound
of pursuing paws. He had only one thought in his
head, to run, run, and then run some more. He ran
out of the alley into the main street and straight into
a large net.

'What
now?'
he yipped in confusion. His paws were
caught up in the net and the more he struggled, the
more entangled he became. Was it a trap laid by Dr
Cripp? He saw two men standing back and laughing.
One was the butcher and the other held a second net.
Dr Cripp was not there.

Freddy had been captured again and this time he
was very frightened.

Just then he heard some familiar, welcome woofs.

'Don't worry, Freddy, I'm coming, I'll save you,'
called Batty. She hurled herself onto the net and started
to tear at it with her teeth. The men tried to approach
her, but she barked at them fiercely.

'Run Batty, or they'll catch you too. It's the butcher,'
Freddy yipped in warning.

'You never left me in the red meat shop, did you,
Stinky?' She tore away at the net again.

'Look out,' woofed Freddy, but it was too late. The
other net was flung on top of the brave mongrel. She
gave a howl of fury that any wolf would have been
proud of, but she was well and truly trapped.

The men hauled up the nets and threw the two dogs
into the back of a small van. It smelt of fear. A thick
wire mesh separated the dogs from the front seats. The
doors were slammed shut and the net man climbed
into the driver's seat. The butcher stuck his head through
the window and smiled with satisfaction.

'It's them sausage thieves all right,' he nodded. 'You
couldn't mistake that ridiculous pink one.'

'Well, it's Coldfax Fort for these two now,' said the
driver with a significant nod of his head.

The butcher's eyes lit up with delight. 'So I won't
be seeing them again any time soon?'

'Not ever!' the net man said icily, and with another
laugh he drove away.

At the mention of Coldfax, Batty's eyes had widened
with terror. She understood very well what was going
to happen. The blood drained from Freddy's head and
his tail went limp.

'I'm so sorry,' he moaned with shame. For almost
the first time in his life, he really meant it: he meant he
was sorry for somebody else and not himself.

'So am I, little stink-pup.' Batty licked his head
through the netting. 'If I hadn't frightened you, this
wouldn't have happened.'

'I'm sorry I lied,' he whispered.

'Well, I suppose you did try to tell me you were
a wolf.' She shook her head in confusion. 'Is it really
true?'

Freddy nodded.

'Well, I'll have to try and believe you then.'

With that the two frightened friends huddled
against each other. The van bumped along through
the growing dark towards the dreaded Coldfax Fort.
The slim figure of Dr Cripp slid out from the shadows.
He had overheard the butcher and the net man and
knew exactly where his werewolf was heading. Freddy
struggled under the weight of the net, but managed
to balance on his hind legs long enough to look out
of the rear window. To his horror he saw Dr Cripp.
The werewolf hunter gave a ghastly smile and nodded
to him. Freddy was certain that his enemy was
going to track him down and he was powerless to
escape.

The van lurched and rattled towards Coldfax Fort.
Batty had feared that terrible name since she was a
pup. Freddy tried to comfort her with brave words,
but she only whimpered in reply. All too soon, the van
slowed to a stop.

'Two more prisoners,' the driver cried, flinging
open the doors.

Freddy and Batty, still entangled in the nets,
struggled to stand. They could hardly see after being
in the dark van. But they could still smell, and that was
bad enough. They were surrounded by the scents of
sad and miserable dogs. There were no happy scents
at all, but plenty of fear.

'Oh Stinky,' Batty woofed in dismay, 'this is awful.'

'Don't worry,' he nudged her. 'We're getting out of
here, I promise.'

'But no dog has ever escaped,' she yipped.

'But I'm not a dog, I'm a wolf, remember? And what's
more, I am ... the Plan Master,' he woofed, all pompous
once more. 'And nobody can ever keep me locked up,'
he barked defiantly at the driver. He had conveniently
forgotten the events of the last twenty hours.

'Bark all you like, pathetic poodle,' the driver
chuckled nastily. 'Nobody'll hear you, nobody'll save
you.'

With a cruel laugh, he pulled the dogs out of the
van. They yelped as they landed on the hard floor and
rolled out of the nets. They were in the middle of a
square cobbled courtyard. Tall walls rose on three
sides with many tiny windows staring down. Behind
them was a high, spiked iron fence with a stone
archway. The arch was barred with a metal portcullis,
such as you might see in an old castle. The net man
handed them over to another man and then drove his
van away. The portcullis began to lower.

'Run, quick,' Batty yelped, her ears flat against her
head as she tore away.

But before she could escape, her head was
caught neatly in a loop of rope hanging from a long
pole.

'Oh, no you don't,' the other man said, sounding
not cruel but bored.

He slipped leads around their necks roughly, then
jerked them through a small door and into a dark
room. The door was slammed behind them.

'I'm not scared, you know,' Freddy barked at the
door, 'so ha-ha-hardy-ha.' The only sound was
the man's footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

Freddy looked around. The room was small, with
a stone floor and a tiny window too high up for them
to see anything.

'Where are all the dogs?' Batty wondered. She
could smell them, but not see them.

'Don't know,' Freddy replied. 'Perhaps there aren't
any after all ...'

'Hhhhhoooowwwwlllll.'
A terrifyingly loud and
mournful howl came from beneath them.

The two dogs looked at each other in dismay.

'What was that?' Batty whimpered.

The unearthly howl came again. Freddy couldn't
make out any words in the noise. It just sounded like
sorrow, terrible sorrow.

'It's the creepiest howl I've ever heard,' he admitted
in a whisper. 'And I've heard Uncle Hotspur.'

As the howl came once more, Batty's ears stood
high in alarm.

'I don't never want to meet
that
dog,' she said
decisively.

'Nor me,' Freddy agreed. 'But I'm not scared!' he
added in a hurry.

'Why not? I am,' Batty whispered.

'I'm not scared of any dog in the world,' he woofed
loudly and defiantly. It didn't sound convincing.

'OH NO? You will be when I get to you!' came
a huge roar outside the door. It wasn't the sorrowful
voice of the howler, but a new savage and mean one.

The door flew open with a crash and the dogs
yelped with fright.

'Stand still for inspection, dregs!' slavered the brutal
bark. Batty and Freddy backed away in alarm. There
in the doorway stood a huge grey wolfhound. It was
almost the size of Sir Hotspur when he was a wolf.
He bared his teeth and glared hatred at the two
prisoners. Freddy, mesmerised with fear, was only just
able to raise his eyes to see the human who stood next
to the beast. He could have woofed with surprise to
see a tiny old lady with a perfect bun of white hair.
She wore small half-moon spectacles, a brown jumper
and a sensible check skirt. She might have been
anybody's teacher or granny.

'Cerberus, what a terrible din. Do pipe down
– I can hardly think.' She tugged sharply at the
wolfhound's ear. His barking became a steady growl,
and he continued to glare at Freddy.

'Now then,' said the woman, bending down to
inspect the bewildered dogs. 'I don't like the look of
these two,' she told Cerberus. 'Especially this pink
one. Looks like a real sneak, a sissy if ever I saw one.'

'I do not!' Freddy yipped, despite his fear.

'Keep quiet when the Commander speaks, dreg!'
Cerberus slavered viciously.

'Is he giving cheek, Cerberus? Keep your eye on
that one. He looks slyer than any dog I ever saw.'
The old woman looked over the top of her glasses
at Freddy with distaste. She gave a shudder. She
absolutely loathed all dogs except Cerberus. It made
her ideal for her job as Commander of Coldfax Fort.
She was only too glad to make sure her dogs were
never seen on the streets again.

'Well, girls, I have only three rules: no barking, no
running and no breaking any other rules I think of.'

'Girls? Are you blind? I'm not a girl!' Freddy barked
loudly. He simply never knew when to keep quiet.

'Freddy, shush,' warned Batty.

Too late. Cerberus sprang forward and knocked
Freddy onto his back. Freddy yelped with terror as
the beast's slavering teeth snarled in his face.

'No barking in Coldfax, nose-drip. No laughing,
no talking, no running, no howling, no
nothing,
unless
I tell you. Is that understood?'

'Yes,' Freddy whimpered.

'"Yes, sir"!' Cerberus snarled.

'Yes,
sir,'
Freddy replied shakily. The wolfhound
gave a final snarl and took his paws off the poodle's
heaving chest. The Commander laughed.

'Well done, boy. You show the sneaky little beast
who's boss.' She patted him on the head. 'Wait a
minute, what's this?' She yanked at the little medal
that Pam had put on Freddy's collar.

'Dripsy-Wimpsy? Well, the name is spot on.
Farfang Castle? So you're not a stray after all,' she
sighed. How she hated the idea of a dog having a safe,
warm home.

'Let's take them to the Pit for walkies. I'll decide
what to do about the pink one later.'

'Move it faster, nose-drips. You make me sick,'
Cerberus added helpfully as the Commander took
their leads and pulled them out of the door.

'I don't think he likes us,' Freddy whispered to
Batty.

Coldfax Fort was shaped like a giant letter H. A
corridor ran the full length of one of the long 'legs' of
the H, with cells on either side. At one end was the
main entrance and the Commander's office, and at
the far end was a heavy oak door that led down to the
dungeon. The Commander led the two dogs down
this corridor and past a long row of empty cells. Each
had a barred iron door and straw scattered over the
floor. Batty could tell by the smell that this was where
the dogs lived, but where were they? The Commander
pointed at a cell.

'This'll be your home for the rest of your miserable
lives,' she laughed, prodding Freddy with her foot.

'The only way out of Coldfax alive is to be adopted.
And nobody ever adopts a dog from here. Because you
are the biters, the pooers, the scratchers, the farters,
the thieves and the filthy mongrels. Nobody wants
you. You'll be here till your pink curls are grey and
so will your scruffy friend.' She gave another nasty
laugh.

Cerberus didn't know what her words meant, but
he knew that when the Commander laughed, his
prisoners would be miserable. That made him laugh,
too – a rough, terrible, mean laugh.

'You'll never leave here. I'll always be watching you
now,' he snarled.

Freddy and Batty looked at each other with grim
determination. They both knew what the other was
thinking. Somehow, some way, they
must
escape from
Coldfax Fort.

'Down there, dregs,' Cerberus snarled.

They had reached a narrow passageway on their
left that ran off the main corridor. A door in the
middle of this corridor opened onto several steps,
which led down into another courtyard. Like the
entry courtyard, this one was surrounded on three
sides by the building and on the fourth by a high
fence topped with barbed wire. This was the Pit. It
was filled with over a hundred dogs of every shape
and size, pacing slowly in a circle. The man who
had thrown Freddy and Batty into the cell stood in
the middle, watching. He was still bored, but not
as much as the dogs. A sadder sight Freddy had
never seen. There was no yapping, nor sniffing, nor
fighting nor chasing, just a slow and sorry walk.

'Go on then. Walkies! Walkies!' the Commander
instructed, removing the dogs' leads.

Batty and Freddy walked grimly down the stairs
and into the stream of dejected dogs. Not one pair of
eyes rose to greet them. There was no Hello Sniffing
dance. The dogs just silently stepped around them
and carried on their walk to nowhere.

The newcomers joined the slow circle. The Commander
and her dreadful hound disappeared and the
door slammed shut with an echo. Freddy seized
the opportunity.

'Okay,' he whispered, 'the Plan Master has already
worked it out. We build a tunnel, bring out the earth in
our pockets and drop it on the ground during Walkies.
The Germans never know.' Freddy had watched too
many old war films.

Batty wrinkled her nose. What was he barking on
about? What did Germans have to do with Coldfax
Fort? She had other things on her mind.

Batty was on full alert. Her pretty ears were
standing tall and her tail held high. All the usual
rules of Doggery didn't seem to apply here. The
Hello Sniffing dance isn't just polite, but essential
to know who is friend and who is foe – who will
play and who wants to fight. Batty caught whiffs of
anger and danger. But from which dogs she couldn't
tell. She needed every sense ready to spot trouble.
And Freddy, she had little doubt, would be no use
whatsoever if it did come. Wolf or not, she would
have to take care of him. He wouldn't stand a chance
without her.

Freddy, of course, saw himself in a quite different
and far more heroic light. Even as a poodle, he felt
the blood of Sir Rathbone in his veins. He was the
Plan Master and was going to take care of Batty. She
wouldn't stand a chance without him.

'Now, you always need a passport to escape,' he
yapped excitedly. 'Which dogs are good at forgery?'

Batty wasn't listening. From behind her she could
hear a low growl. It sounded like danger. She looked
back nervously.

'They don't say much, do they?' Freddy yipped,
looking around. 'It's a well-known fact that dogs are
stupid. Except
you,
of course. That's probably why
they haven't escaped. I would have by now.'

Batty heard the growls from behind her again.

'They look a bit cowardly,' Freddy whispered far
too loudly. 'Probably too scared to run away.'

'Will you put a paw in it? Unless you can say
something helpful,' she growled at Freddy.

'I'm planning our escape. What's more helpful than
that?' he snapped.

The growling behind them was steadily growing.
Batty looked around with much concern. She was
trying not to listen to Freddy, but unfortunately bits
of his nonsense kept reaching her ears.

'I could climb down the wall on a rope made of
blankets. Or ... or ... how about... hide inside a
wooden horse? That's what some famous old duffers
did once. I won't give up like these no-hope hounds.'

'Don't you ever shut up?' Batty growled in despair.

The bored man stood up from his chair in the
centre of the courtyard. With a stretch and a yawn he
walked through the slow parade of dogs. He climbed
the few steps, unlocked the door, and left the Pit.

The dogs came to an immediate halt. As one
they raised their drooping noses and turned to look
at the newcomers. Batty and Freddy moved closer
together nervously. There was not a snuffle or a sniff.
The tension was unbearable. Freddy couldn't bear
anything that was unbearable.

'Boo!' he yelped. Every dog jumped, including
Batty. She glared at him in disbelief. How was she ever
to keep such a silly creature safe? Freddy wheezed a
giggle at his great joke. All the surrounding dogs began
to growl quietly. Suddenly, a large boxer jumped out
and snarled at Freddy, who leapt back in alarm.

'Who's the coward now, poodle?' He looked at the
smaller dog with disgust and sniffed him.

'You don't smell like no proper dog. Don't look
like one neither, not a real dog, that is. What are you
really, pink poodle?'