Dog Gone (17 page)

I opened my eyes cautiously. Vinny was gone.

‘Molly, are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?'

‘I'm okay. My arm hurts a bit, that's all. Where do you think he's gone?'

‘Don't know. Do you think he saw us?'

‘Don't know either. I just know I want to get out of here. That guy's creepy. We need to distract him somehow, while we get Lucky.'

I could see Molly now, standing in front of me, holding her elbow.

‘Maybe I should text Brody,' I said.

‘Yeah, maybe we'd better ring for help.'

‘No. I've got a better idea. Let's ring Vinny. I put his number in Brody's phone, you know, just in case. You talk to him – pretend you're someone else – keep him on the phone while I get Lucky. Then we'll make a run for it.'

‘Brilliant, Ish. I'll be one of those call centres.'

We scurried away from the house and hid among a clump of trees in the yard. Molly dialled Vinny's number.

It rang for ages – we could hear it ringing inside the house. For a moment I thought he wasn't going to answer. When he finally did, I made a run for the shed. Lucky started to bark again. I hoped Molly was able to keep Vinny talking.

I opened the door, but Lucky didn't come flying out to greet me. There were some more barks. I shone the torch around and saw that he was tied up at the back, behind some hay bales. It really was Lucky.

I rushed up and hugged him hard. ‘Shhhhh, Lucky – it's me. I've come to get you, boy. It's okay.'

His tail wagged so much, it sent clouds of hay dust up into the air.

I sneezed and dropped the torch on the hard concrete floor. The light went out and wouldn't come on again.
Darn!

I reached for Lucky's rope and bumped up against something heavy. Whatever it was toppled over with a loud crash, sending Lucky into another barking frenzy.

Seconds later the lights came on again outside, lighting up the inside of the shed as well. I tugged at Lucky's rope just as a shadow moved across the room.

Lucky began to growl and I turned around to see Vinny standing in the doorway. He was massive, even bigger than he'd looked through the window. And he was dead ugly. He grinned at me, but his eyes looked wild and scary. A thread of saliva fell from a gap between his teeth, as though he was drooling – the bear getting ready to eat his prey.

Lucky growled more fiercely.

‘Shut up, mutt,' spat Vinny. He took a step towards us. ‘Wanna see what I do to trespassers, buddy?'

I looked around desperately, but there was nowhere to hide and no escape.

Vinny stood in front of the only door.

I spotted a pitchfork leaning up against the wall, between the wheelbarrow and the ride-on mower. Vinny must have read my thoughts because we both dived for it at the same time.

But I was too fast for him. By the time he'd taken another step forward, and made a lunge at the handle, I'd already grabbed it and had the prongs pointing towards him.

Lucky went berserk, barking and growling at the same time.

Vinny swung around, wrapped his gigantic hand around the prongs, and yanked the pitchfork away from me. So much for my weapon.

He lifted it above his head, like an axe. He brought it down, but I dived out of the way just in time. The sound of the metal prongs crashing onto the concrete floor made me feel sick. That could've been me.

He was still in front of the door. He raised the fork again, laughing. I saw another trickle of saliva run down his chin. I backed away from him but there was nowhere to go.

He swung again. I jumped aside, landing near a metal rake. It toppled over, just as Vinny took a step back, and straight onto the rake's handle.

He teetered backwards, just managing to save himself from falling. The pitchfork clattered to the ground at his feet.

I sprang forward and snatched it! I jabbed the pitchfork in the air towards Vinny and tried to yank Lucky's rope free with my other hand.

‘You little – you little – I'll kill you!' Vinny grabbed one of the handles of the wheelbarrow and swung it through the air as if he was Superman.

The barrow landed next to me. Its wheel caught my right arm and jerked the pitchfork out my grip. I felt pain shoot all the way up to my shoulder, but had to ignore it while I frantically tried to undo Lucky's rope. It was no good, he was pulling so hard on it, I couldn't get it loose.

Vinny stomped towards me and picked up the pitchfork. I yanked Lucky back towards me, to slacken the rope. There was some give in the knot and I clawed at it desperately.

Vinny made crazy gurgling sounds as he pointed the pitchfork in my direction.

Just as my fingers felt like they were turning to rubber, the knot came undone and the rope slipped free.

Lucky dived at Vinny's fat ankle and clamped his teeth around it.

I ran towards the door and screamed for Lucky to follow, but he wouldn't let go of Vinny's leg.

Vinny lifted the pitchfork above his head.

‘Nooooooo!'

Vinny froze.
He looked as if he was playing musical statues and the music had stopped. Standing with the pitchfork ready to slice into Lucky's neck, you would've thought he'd suddenly turned into stone. He was goggling at something behind me.

Lucky let go of Vinny's leg but kept growling.

Molly was standing in the doorway, trying to control the fishing rod. It was thrashing around wildly in her hands. Curling out from the end of it, like a genie from a lamp, was the ghost.

The pitchfork dropped from Vinny's hand and clanked uselessly to the floor next to Lucky, just missing him. Molly screamed as Vinny pushed past her and ran towards the house. The back door banged.

Molly stood frozen to the spot, gaping at the ghost, which had lit her face up with a spooky green light. ‘What the –?'

Lucky barked and suddenly broke the spell. The ghost disappeared.

‘Run, Molly! Run!' I yelled.

One end of the rope was still attached to Lucky's collar, and trailed after him as he charged out the door. I dived and just caught hold of the end of it when the back door banged again.

Vinny swung his shotgun up to the stars and blasted.

Then he aimed at me. ‘This is what happens to little turds like you who try to steal my dog!'

At that moment Lucky took a flying leap at Vinny. The rope tore out of my hand. The shotgun went off again, echoing through the night, like a thunderclap. There was a thud as the gun fell to the ground, and a cry of pain from Vinny.

Panic-stricken, I looked around for Molly.

She was frozen to the spot, holding the fishing rod as if it was a sword. Miraculously, no one had been hit. Lucky had sunk his teeth into Vinny's arm and was growling ferociously at him.

I scrambled to my feet. Suddenly, I had an idea. ‘Molly – the fishing rod. Give it to me!' I yanked it away from her and it was already alive. It was hot in my hands.

I swung the fishing rod towards Vinny. It whipped and writhed like an angry snake. I could feel the energy build up like a force-field around me.

Then it happened. The ghost, Grandpa, streamed out from the end of the fishing rod. It was spectacular. The whole yard lit up in bright green, and my Grandpa, swirling and shimmering, surged towards Vinny.

It seemed like Vinny couldn't move a muscle, except for the terror filling his eyes through the green glow.

Lucky stopped growling. For a moment there was a strange silence, as if all the clocks in the world had stopped ticking.

An instant later we heard the car.

I grabbed Lucky's rope and the three of us ran like frightened turkeys around to the front of the house. As we rounded the corner, we saw headlights sweep up the driveway.

‘Did you phone for help?' I puffed, beside Molly.

‘I rang Brody, but his dad answered. They were already on their way. Mr Ironclad's driving.'

Lucky started going crazy, barking and pulling on the rope so hard, I could hardly hold him. It cut into my hand and before I knew what had happened, he'd pulled away from me and was bounding towards the car.

‘Lucky!' He was heading straight into the headlights, the rope trailing behind him. I buried my head in my arms and waited for the bump.

The car tyres slid on the gravel – then silence.

I couldn't bear to look up.

Mr Ironclad's voice boomed into the night. ‘Hop in, Lucky. Come on, kids!'

I stared out the window and watched the dark shapes of trees and fences rush past. Mr Ironclad's car was an old Ford Fairlane and smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Lucky lay on the back seat, between Molly and me, with his head on my lap. How he didn't get run over, I'll never know. Gran was spot on when she'd said he had the right name.

Brody and his dad had waited at the front gate for the police to arrive. They were going to help get Vinny into hospital, to sort out his medication.

It was quiet in the car now, except for the occasional burst of conversation. I was in my own world, listening to the sound of Lucky's breathing and enjoying the weight of his head on my leg. I stroked his bony rib cage and wondered if Vinny had fed him at all. I rested my head on the back of the seat and sighed. It felt good to be safe.

We'd cop it in the ear from Gran when we got home, but I didn't care. I had Lucky back and that was all that mattered.

After we'd told Mr Ironclad all about Vinny and how he'd nearly killed me and Lucky, I suddenly felt drained of all my energy. But I wasn't sleepy – my brain buzzed. Lucky was amazing. A little movie of him leaping at Vinny and knocking the shotgun out of his hands played over in my mind. Any one of us could have been shot. I patted Lucky to let him know he was safe and loved. He deserved a medal for bravery.
Another
one.

I wrote the poem in my head.

A Whole Fortnight! - Award Ceremony

I'm in the front row

with my family

Mum, Dad, Gran, Molly and Lucky

a man makes a speech

about dogs who are brave

and clever

like Lucky

soon I will walk him

onto the stage

the boy who pushed Gran over

and stole her handbag

never had a chance

I thought about Mum and wondered when she'd be home. We'd heard she was making good progress. I couldn't wait to tell her we'd found Lucky. We'd have so much to talk about. What stories would she have about Mongolia?

Molly suddenly poked me in the arm. ‘I can't stop thinking about that ghost,' she whispered. ‘Was that for real? I mean a
ghost
! But – like – if it hadn't been for the ghost –'

‘Yeah, I don't like to think about it,' I whispered back. ‘Lucky wouldn't be here now, that's for sure.'

‘I've been thinking,' whispered Molly, so softly I could hardly hear over the hum of the tyres on the road, ‘do you think it was Grandpa? It
looked
like Grandpa!'

‘I think it was, Molly. I'm sure it was Grandpa. How cool is that?'

‘And what's with your fishing rod? When Vinny hung up and went outside, I was hunting through your bag to see if you had anything to use as a weapon, and the rod – like –
jumped
into my hand! It pulled me towards the shed! Freaky as!
Then
that
ghost … Grandpa …
appeared out of it – just like in Aladdin! I mean, this is so like a weird dream …'

It did feel like a dream. A weird and scary one.

‘
What in heaven's
name were you thinking?' Gran had worked herself up into one of her meanpants frenzies. She put my cornflakes in front of me and poured orange juice over them instead of milk, splashing some over the side. Her face was the same colour as the tomatoes lined up on the window ledge. ‘You could have been
killed
last night, both of you!'