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Instead of seeing her body, though, I saw what she was clenching to her chest.
The reason for the weird way of trying to get out of the building.
And, it seemed, the ski mask and general burglar getup.
A dog.
A descent-sized gray pitbull, to be exact.
“You can’t take her back!” the woman shrieked.
The fuck?
“What?”
“You can’t take her back there. I won’t let you. I’ll scream,” she said, chin jutting up. “I mean, I’m a girl, and we all know no one comes when we call for help. That’s why they teach us to yell ‘fire’ instead of ‘rape’ when we are being attacked. Which is super fucked up, if you think about it. And just another testament to how terrible human beings are. But, yeah, I can scream that there are, like, free drinks on me or something. And someone will come.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked, shaking my head.
“I’m talking about you, shithead, not taking this sweet, innocent dog back to that fucking dog fight.”
Oh, well, that was an unexpected development.
CHAPTER TWO
Lark
Listen, I am not normally a ‘dress all in black like a burglar from a home security commercial’ kind of girl.
But sometimes, a girl has to do crazy things in the name of what is right.
One could argue that I have always been going out of my way to help animals in need. But donning a ski mask and breaking into an underground dog fighting ring was, you know, a tad out of character.
I wasn’t built for the criminal lifestyle. I had sweat through three shirts that very day in anticipation of what I was going to do.
And, you know, I’d have lasted about point-five seconds in an interrogation room. Hell, they wouldn’t even need to interrogate me since I had my plan all plotted out on a yellow notepad on my kitchen counter.
Like an idiot.
I figured that if I was going to get arrested, though, it would be during the act. Then I would sing like a canary, and they wouldn’t even need to go to my apartment and see just how premeditated the whole thing was.
I mean, I had been practicing opening BILCO-style doors to see how I could do it silently going in, then maneuver it while carrying a couple of dogs out with me.
It wasn’t enough.
A couple.
When I knew there were dozens down there.
But it was something, right?
I mean, I’d tried doing the “right thing,” and calling the local animal control and rescues and SPCA. Everyone said they would look into it.
Meanwhile, the dog bodies just kept piling up in the dumpster.
I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.
So while I knew it was going to break my heart to leave some dogs to die while I grabbed others, at least I could make the difference in a few lives. And then just pray that someone else with an official title and a badge could go in and save some of who was left.
