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The concrete floor was soddened with blood. Jeff, my bravest tormentor, lay dead over the barrier above my head. The two dogs were still gnawing at the corpses of their masters. I could see the shame and anguish in their eyes, too.
We were all so damaged.
The goose let out a soft honk, showing me a picture of a bucket of grain filled to the top. His victory prize. It made him feel so good.
“I know. I used to get ice-cream sundaes, and I got to pick out a new dress,” I said softly. “What’s your name, buddy?”
The goose hesitated and lowered his head. For a long moment his thoughts were jumbled and confusing, and I realized his real name couldn’t be spoken by a human mouth. After a while, he changed tactics. An image popped into his aura—an enormous, musclebound bald man.
I recognized him and frowned. “Your name is Rock?”
The goose shook his head.
“No? Is it… Johnson?”
Another shake.
“Don’t tell me.” I pressed my lips together, trying not to giggle. “Your name is Dwayne.”
He let out a soft honk in the affirmative and hopped down off the werewolf’s corpse, padding on the concrete towards me. His feathers were splattered with blood. Dwayne the battle goose.
“Huh. Nice to meet you, Dwayne.” I couldn’t tell if he was injured or not; I couldn’t see any new wounds, but I could see all his old ones with my enhanced sight.
He nuzzled me, carefully at first, gently, keeping the sharp edge of his beak away. His thoughts made me want to howl in anguish.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Damaged things deserve love, too.”
Chapter Ten
The door banged, the knock echoing around the shed. I didn’t even think. I scooped up the goose and tucked him under my arm. Dwayne’s feathers felt silky against my skin, even covered with blood.
The knock came again.
“Hello?” a voice bellowed through a tiny crack in the door. “Are you in there, dude?”
I frowned. It was a man’s voice. He sounded… weird. His accent was baffling, like a character from a nineties movie or something. He sounded like a young guy from a teen buddy comedy.
“Bro,” another male voice called out. “Are you okay?”
“We’re here to take you home, dude!” The door rattled. “I hope you haven’t killed anyone important,” he added in that weird, sing-song voice.
I looked down at Dwayne. He seemed… resigned. “Do you know those guys?”
He honked out a snort.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.” I grimaced. “Are they the ones who created you?”
The goose shook his head.
“No?”
He shook his head, quite pointedly. His thoughts told me he wasn’t afraid of them. That wasn’t necessarily good news for me, though. I was standing in an inch of blood in the middle of a dog-fighting pit, with dead men lying all around me, their bodies in various stages of desecration. Whatever these guys wanted, I doubt they’d keep quiet about this, even if they thought I was an innocent girl who’d gotten mixed up in a horrifying situation and needed help.
I sighed and met my feathery friend’s eyes again. “Is it safe to talk to them?”
He gave a distinctive goosey shrug.
Right.
