Sacrifice

rear. We climbed out. Followed Terry through the pack, climbed aboard.

He drove expertly, negotiating the minefield like it was a post-apocalypse gymkhana. Luke's eyes widened— this was wilder than the safari ride at the zoo. We pulled up in a clearing next to the Mole's bunker. The resident lunatic was nowhere in sight. I looked a question at Terry. 'Mole won't be around unless you need him, okay?' he answered. 'You can work downstairs.'

66

Luke's eyes swept the area. The dog pack had reassembled, sitting patiently. Abandoned cars, interwoven with huge pieces of machinery, had rusted into a permanent necklace, blocking any view of the outside. Behind the necklace, a chain link fence topped with razor wire. Dots of firelight on the surrounding flatlands, sounds of diesels chugging past, a siren cut through, faded. The tip of the world. Junkyard or graveyard. The boy took it all in, observing and calm. Interested, not curious.

I started toward the bunker. 'Come on, Luke. Let's go downstairs, so we can talk.'

The boy stiffened. His little face went rigid, skull showing under the soft skin.

'Basement?' he said, like he didn't have enough air. 'Basement?'

'Oh shit,' Doc said, moving back to give the boy room.

Terry stepped forward. 'It's not a basement, pal. Who said that? We don't have basements here. It's safe here, Luke. Burke's going to. the cave. A real cave, like in the jungle. It's where we go when there's trouble. They can never find you there.'

'Cave?'

'Sure. It's fun. We have all kinds of neat stuff there. Want me to show you?'

'I…don't know.'

'Well, you don't have to go. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Not here. This is my house, see? And you're my friend.'

'Friend?'

'Sure, my friend. Like I said. I protect my friends, and they protect me. We protect each other. If bad people come around here, we know how to fix them. Fix them real good, I promise.'

'Fix them?'

'Sure,' Terry said, kneeling next to the boy, not touching him. 'Simba!' he called.

The tawny monster bounded into the clearing, ears tipped forward, bushy tail curling up over his back. Terry made a circle gesture with his hand, and the beast whirled in his tracks, facing me and Doc, standing between Terry and Luke.

'Who's in charge here?' he asked Luke. 'Me or Burke?'

'Burke is the man,' Luke said, more life in his voice now, reasonable.

'And I'm the kid, right?'

Luke nodded.

'Simba, watch!' Terry snapped.

A low warning growl from the beast. He backed up until his tail was brushing Terry, magnificent head swiveling on a narrow arc. Me to Doc, Doc to me.

I took a tentative step forward. Simba lunged at me, blood-ugly snarl from deep inside him. I stepped back. The other dogs made pack-noises behind me— I didn't turn around.

'Simba's my dog. Mine and the Mole's. He loves us. Nobody hurts us here. Nobody.'

'Would he hurt Burke?'

'He'd kill him,' Terry said, matter-of-fact, patting the dog on his shoulder. 'Or anybody else.'

Luke's little hand reached out, touched the dog. Simba watched us.

I knew better than to say anything.

67

'Come on, Simba,' Terry said. He walked to the bunker, Luke right next to him. All three of them disappeared inside.

I walked over to where they'd been standing. Sat on one of the cut-down oil drums the Mole uses for outdoor furniture. Doc took a seat next to me. I lit a smoke.

'Got another one of those?'

'I thought you quit.'

'This is one of those times, hoss.'

I handed over my pack, cracked a wooden match for him.

'We almost blew it, partner.'

'I know.'

'Damn! How'd that kid…Terry…how'd he know what to say?'

'It's what his mother said to him— when she brought him here. His real mother, not the bitch who birthed him. He was a sex rental when he was younger. They can smell it on each other.'