The Goat

  Doctor Fudge's teeth clamped like a sprung trap. It was foolish that he had needed to divert any of his attention away from the goats. “Stupid buffoon. I say always no mistakes, what the hell did you do?”

  Back at the dock, Sparky and Basil had little time to think. Sparky stripped down and tossed his hat and coat to the detective. “Frank’s out front with the car!”

  “What are you going to do?” Basil asked.

  Sparky took to all fours. His bounding stride impressed Basil, and was not something he could try to match. Basil ran out of the garage to the front of station. The Ford Escort he had been jettisoned from earlier idled by the curb. Frank sat in plain sight in the driver’s seat of the sedan, paws on the wheel.

  Basil ripped the driver door open. “Move over, I’ll drive.”

  Frank didn't budge. “Hey fatty! You made it here, too?”

  Basil didn’t wait for the dog to comply. He pushed his way in, receiving a harsh growl. The tires squealed as they tore out of the lot.

  Reilly could see Fudge's squinched face in the rear view mirror.“You okay, doc? Look, it wasn’t my fault. I think Carmine’s onto us.”

  “Of course he is." Fudge hated him more than ever. "Damn you, Reilly. I told you to keep it quiet. Valerie may do more damage to me dead than alive.”

  The car bumped, there was a loud thud at the rear.

  Reilly gave a disapproving shake of his head.“Watch how you’re driving, we don’t want to get pulled over. I’m a wanted man.”

  Dr. Fudge adjusted his rear view mirror. “Holy shit!”

  Staring back at him in the reflection was the dimly lit face of Sparky, pulling himself up over the spoiler of the car.

  Reilly looked back; his cheeks went flush. “How the hell did it get out of the facility? And why the hell is he following you?”

  “I wasn’t followed,” Dr. Fudge said.

  Sparky pulled himself over the spoiler and steadied himself on the car’s winged back end. With both hooves he hammered in the center of the back window. The window was sturdy, but so was his resolve. He struck again, faint cracks appeared.

  Reilly looked around. They were in light traffic, but this would be noticed for sure. “We have to drop this thing! What are you waiting for? Shake him off! And speed up!”

  The car accelerated, Dr. Fudge’s pulse quickened. He was not as used to these escapes as his backseat driver. Sparky fell back with force, but his legs held him firm in the spoiler. He reeled back and struck the glass again. The car swerved right then left. Sparky swayed then regained his balance.

  Fudge smiled, his adrenaline surged. He turned and checked the rear. The goat was still there. “Hold on!” The Doctor banked the car sharply. The unfastened Reilly toppled over in the back seat, cursing as he went.

  Sparky held on tight as his rear end flew off the right side of the car. He climbed back over the trunk just as a car rushed past. The rear glass showed cracks, but still held.

  Behind them, the little Escort darted down the roadway narrowly missing an oncoming SUV. Basil guided the car in and out of the two lanes passing other cars. The gold coupe came into sight. Basil breathing eased when he saw they hadn't lost their target. His mind assembled the picture of Sparky riding on the rear. Panic set in anew. Basil accelerated, unsure how long Sparky could hold on.

  “Your friend is crazy,” Basil said to Frank, who was fumbling with something in the passenger seat.

  “He’s not crazy, this is how we operate!” Frank wished he had power windows. He would love to be shooting at the bad guys. It was his job as sidekick. As it was, he had a hard enough time getting the gun ready.

  Basil caught a flash of the weapon’s metal barrel and yanked it away. Frank poised to argue when Basil offered him a trade. “Take the wheel!”

  Frank bounded over with delight, wrapping his paws around the rubber coated steering wheel. Basil rolled down the window and leaned out with one foot hard on the gas. He steadied the gun and fired.

  The shot was a terrible miss; the bullet sparked against the road.

  Reilly heard the shot, but was unable to see past Sparky. Dr. Fudge peeked at the side mirror and glared at the pursuing vehicle. He swerved out into the opposing lanes, dodging cars head on.

  Frank couldn’t turn the wheel fast enough and they bounced into another car. Basil fired off balance. The bullet went into the rear glass of the coupe shattering a small section. Sparky followed it up with his own two hooved blow and the rear windshield split.

  “Don't you have a gun?” Reilly asked.

  “Yeah!” Dr. Fudge reached blindly into the passenger seat and found the icy metal handle of the 9mm.

  He tossed the gun over the seat, not looking back. The gun hit Reilly square between the eyes. Reilly fell down against the seat, rubbing his head.

  Basil slid down into the car. Frank scampered back into his seat.

  “Let me shoot, let me shoot!” Frank panted with a wet tongue.

  Basil kept his eyes on the road as he weaved the small car and bobbed to keep up with the villains.

  Sparky hit the glass over and over, thinking at any time it would give. The gold coupe darted to and fro through the traffic. Sparky couldn’t brace himself to get a solid hit. One hoof wrapped tightly on the spoiler, the other trashing on the broken window.

  Reilly pulled the gun from the floor, the scene around him blurred. The banging on the glass behind him resounded in his aching head. He turned around and aimed the gun. The trigger squeezed easily. The glass shattered.

  Chapter 101

  The Escort bounced as it trampled the broken glass sheet. Basil cranked the wheel left to avoid a small pickup truck. The limp goat hung from the back of the car ahead of them. Basil gasped, Frank put his paws on the dash. The goat’s legs wrapped around the spoiler holding him in place.

  “Get up, damn it!” Frank screamed.

  Basil shuddered. “He can’t hear you!” He turned sharply, following the gold coupe down another road.

  Reilly climbed up. He held the top of the seat and leaned out of the window. He bent over, trying to wriggle the animal’s legs free.

  Reilly looked up at the driver of the pursuing Escort recognizing the detective from the station. He drew a line across his throat. Reilly turned back and reached out to yank the goat’s left leg out. He was met with a raging yellow glare. Sparky grabbed the man’s collar and pulled up.

  Reilly threw his hands around the goat’s neck pressing him against the trunk. Sparky butted with his horns. The man gripped tighter on the goat’s narrow throat. Sparky began to lose sensation in his arms. Staring into the eyes of his attacker, the man who had stolen his family, failure crept into his mind as his eyes blackened.

  Sparky couldn’t remember where this all started. He couldn’t think clearly about Oliver and his herd, even though it had only been a few days since he last saw them. He struggled to picture his lady, his children. He swung his head and caught Reilly in the face with the edge of his horn, but Reilly kept pressing his fingers. The man squeezed harder. Sparky swung again. No contact.

  Suddenly the pressure eased and Reilly retreated. He was grabbing his shoulder. The air returned to Sparky’s lungs. Sound flooded his ears. Sparky looked over his shoulder and saw Frank leaning out the side of the car, a pistol propped between in his paws and mouth.

  The doctor pushed a hard left, the Escort couldn’t hold the road. Basil spun the wheel about, slamming the brakes. The car slid to a halt passing the side road, their vision occluded by a convenience store. Basil punched the car into reverse and then back to drive. As he made it onto the side road Basil's jaw fell open. The coupe was gone.

  Sparky yanked up on the man’s sleeve and crashed his horns into his skull. Reilly fell back inside the car, Sparky still attached. They collapsed in a pile on the back seat. Sparky turned to the driver.

  “Take me to the goats!”

  Reilly’s wound poured blood over the seat. Dr. Fudge did
n’t slow the car. He checked his side, wrapping his hand around the grip of his loaded sidearm.

  Sparky seized the 9mm from the floor. He shoved the barrel against Reilly’s forehead. “I said take me to the other goats.”

  “Don’t take him, kill the bastard.” Reilly uttered.

  Sparky clocked Reilly across the cheek with his free hoof.

  Dr. Fudge chuckled. “You won’t kill me, and I don’t really care if you kill him.”

  “Who are you?” Sparky asked.

  “Why, I should be asking that of you. I’m Doctor Raymond Fudge, your creator.”

  “My creator?” Sparky split his attention between the man in front and the man pinned on the seat, keeping a solid watch on both.

  “Did you think you sprang up from nowhere! I created you. I made you the creature you are today.”

  “What have you done with my family? Are they safe?”

  Reilly snickered. “Safe? Ha!”

  “Are they safe?” Sparky demanded again, bashing the pinned man with his fisted hoof.

  “No, they aren’t. It’s too bad for them, and it’s too bad for you.”

  Reilly turned and grabbed for the gun. Sparky fell back and lost his grip on the 9mm. Reilly leaned up putting a hand to Sparky’s throat. Sparky threw a quick jab with his right hoof, then his left. Reilly sank down unmoving. Sparky scraped at the floor, looking for the gun.

  A sharp pain formed in Sparky’s shoulder. His eyes rolled to the pain and saw a dart emerging from his forelimb.

  “Too bad for you.” Fudge repeated.

  Sparky collapsed.

  ~~~~~~

  “Did you see that? I shot him! I shot him!” Frank bounced with delight that Basil had given him the chance to use the gun. It was truly his first time firing a weapon and he wasn’t sure how he had done it.

  “Yeah, I saw it,” Basil grunted; impressed that the animal had made the shot. “I didn’t think you could pull it off. Where did you learn to shoot?”

  “I don’t know how to shoot, but when you took my bet for a six pack that I could hit the guy on the first shot, it just made me focus.”

  “Great, but we’ve still lost them.”

  The Escort continued cautiously down the side road without any sign of the gold car, or the goat.

  “You think he’s going to be okay?” Basil asked.

  “How many times do I have to tell you? He’s the Goat!”

  “Right, I get it.”

  Chapter 102

  “Wake up you filthy little bastard!”

  Sparky found himself at home on the ranch. Why would Oliver be yelling at him? He smiled and stretched his arms, delighted to be at home, awake from his nightmare. He almost wanted to speak, to thank the man for being such a good friend, but he knew better.

  “Goddamn son of a bitch! I said wake up!”

  Sparky’s eyes shot open. Freezing water covered his front. Dr. Fudge lumbered over him in a white coat. Sparky had been restrained with leather straps. They wrapped tightly around his limbs so much so that the bands cut the skin around his hooves.

  “Good morning,” Dr. Fudge cackled. The man erupted into a full laugh that ended in a snort. “I do hope that you are more willing to talk than your predecessors!”

  The doctor pointed to the blood splattered table next to Sparky.

  “What have you done to my friends?” Sparky shook against the restraints, they only cut deeper.

  “See? We are already doing better. The last one wasn’t so ready to talk.”

  “Who? Who didn’t talk?”

  “I don’t know, since he wouldn’t talk he didn’t give me a name. Would you give me your name?” the doctor brushed the goat’s face with the back of his hand. “My name is Raymond. Doctor Raymond Fudge.”

  “I remember, you’re going to let them go right now!”

  “So much to understand, so much to know. You really should share with me. I am a man of science and study.”

  “Let me go, now.”

  “My dear goat, there isn’t anyone to save you!”

  Sparky looked around the room. It was just him, the doctor, and a series of metal tables on the back wall. One along the other side of the room displayed a selection of medical tools. Sparky tested the straps on his arms, trying to wedge even one hoof free.

  “Sparky, I told you, there is no way to escape.”

  Sparky.

  Had he spoken in error? No. Maybe in his sleep? No, one of the other goats must have talked. Who had Fudge killed? Who had spoken about him? Was it a friend? Was it his lady?

  “Don’t look so surprised. Me and Frank are actually quite good friends.”

  Frank emerged from behind a table, on his hind legs. He had on a black sport coat and a silver tie. The canine trotted over with a beer can in his left paw. Frank took a long drink, watching Sparky struggle.

  “I’ve had him following you for a long time. He is the best informant I could have had; truly a man’s best friend.”

  Sparky ‘s tongue tangled in his throat. Frank sipped his beer.

  “Frank? You wouldn’t! We’re friends!”

  Frank turned the can upside down and shook it. A few drops fell out onto the floor. “It was real easy to get in with you. You are so trusting.”

  “You can’t be serious!” Sparky’s heart fell free of his chest, bouncing on the floor where the canine proceeded to step on it. The doctor was right; no one would be coming to save him.

  “But, Frank! My, my... family!”

  “Always so selfish, goat.” Frank threw the can and hit Sparky in the face. It bounced across the floor echoing in the sterile chamber.

  “But I thought, you were-” The goat had lost all words.

  “Ah, who needs you?” Frank stormed out of the room. The door slammed behind him. The doctor rolled his eyes and his head back to Sparky.

  “You really shouldn’t struggle, they are very strong straps. I’m sure that Frank told you I am a professional.”

  “Let me go, you monster! I won’t give up.”

  “Please don’t tell me he’s fighting with you!” Basil stepped in from the same door Frank had just exited.

  “Basil?”

  “You think I really wanted to make you famous? I wanted to get you home safe to my dad!”

  Dr. Fudge tilted his head to the sky and laughed maniacally. Basil joined in. Their chorus filled the room for what must have been a straight minute or more. The two men stopped in unison and narrowed their gaze on the imprisoned Sparky.

  “This was all just an elaborate show! Just for one goat, too! You should feel honored!” The doctor handed a white coat to Basil. “Why don’t you help me, son?”

  “I’d love to, dad!”

  Basil slipped on a long white lab coat and buttoned the front. He lifted a giant circular saw from the table. Basil ran a finger along the blade. “Just relax, Sparks. You don’t have to worry about me exploiting you anymore. All I want is to see your insides. To get into what really makes you tick.”

  Dr. Fudge tapped his son on the shoulder. “Sorry son, you’ll have to do this without me.”

  “Why, dad?”

  “I almost forgot, I have a date!” He circled on one foot reaching for the door. “Would you like to meet her?”

  Sparky’s jaw hit the floor. Princess sashayed in, wearing a tight pink tube top and a short flared white skirt, her lips layered with bright red lipstick. The fine lady swayed her hips as she walked. Princess swooped in and gave Sparky a peck on the cheek, then slowly and went to his ear.

  “It’s okay baby, maybe you’ll be happier when you’re dead! The doctor is going to show me what it’s like to have a real man around. No more dating from the pasture…it's so last century.” Princess waltzed to the doctor.

  Dr. Fudge put his arm around her shoulders. The two locked in a strangely inhuman exchange of passion. Fudge pursed his lips and slipped his tongue into her mouth, Princess licked his tongue and bit at the man’s lower lip. r />
  “Mahh!” Dr. Fudge belted. The two strolled out the door, Fudge waving over his shoulder.

  Sparky’s head fell. He turned to Basil. “Please, just kill me. I don’t want to see anymore!”

  Frank re-entered the room, holding Samantha’s hoof in his paw. “Hey, Sparks, you mind if take your little girl drinking?”

  Sparky shrieked.

  Basil motioned Frank to shoo. Frank slapped Sam on the rear as they scurried out. She chirped with delight.

  “Please, just make it quick! I don’t want to know how much worse it gets!”

  Basil revved up the saw. He looked back and forth between the blade and Sparky.

  “By the way, goat, I took the liberty of having that little farm girl, Susan, offed. She knew too much!”

  “Sherry?”

  “Whatever.” Basil cleaved the saw into the goat.

  Sparky’s body tightened as the screaming whir of the saw pierced his ears. He could feel the blade tearing at his skin. His strength faded, he could no longer feel the restraints holding him, only pain.

  Chapter 103

  “Wake up you filthy little bastard!”

  Sparky found himself at home on the ranch. Why would Oliver be yelling at him? He smiled and stretched his arms, delighted to be at home, awake from his nightmare. He almost wanted to speak, to thank the man for being such a good friend, but he knew better.

  “Goddamn son of a bitch! I said wake up!”

  He peeked from his left eye. It was the white-coated man: Dr. Fudge. He stood ready with a pail of water. The doctor set it down, catching his open eye.

  “You snore.”

  The room was identical to how it had been in his dream. He looked for any signs of Frank, Basil, Princess, or his daughter.

  “So, tell me about yourself. Where did you come from? How did you get here?” The doctor turned away and continued not giving Sparky a moment to speak. “Oh I get it, playing the silent type. You think that you can hold your ground? Thinking ‘I won’t tell this madman anything.’”

  Dr. Fudge wasn’t a madman. A little upset that they canceled Perry Mason sometimes, but never mad.

  “What is your name, goat?”

  Sparky would not easily give in to the doctor’s demands as he had in his dream. It was obvious that the man did desire something from him. And for the moment, that made him safe.