Side Story #1 - Colt - Page 5

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Colt retrieved the blanket and "picnicking gear" that he'd brought along from the trunk of his car, then gathered the kids up. It was a lot to carry, but with a backpack, he managed. He looked for a nice spot to settle down with the kids. There was a large pond in the center of the park, and he found a well-shaded area that didn't seem too crowded.

He set the kids down first, then the blanket, and then started unpacking. A pack of cards, a miniature checkers set, a frisbee, some action figures, and a small cooler with food he'd prepared early this morning. Roasted rabbit, filtered rainwater, and some freshly picked blueberries and carrots.

He'd considered bringing a gun as well, just in case, but if someone discovered it for whatever reason, it would probably just cause problems for him. The gun laws in this country were a bit stricter than they were in Atreya. And besides, with his servant power, he didn't really need a gun, anyway.

After their little snack at the diner, though, the kids probably weren't that hungry yet, so he decided to hold off and just play with them for a while. He appreciated the change of scenery, and so did they, seemingly.

He also took the opportunity to do some people watching. Plenty of things could be learned about the citizens of Orden just by observing them, and it was certainly nice to be able to do it during the daytime.

He could see plenty of families, not all of whom looked very pleased to be here. He could see some punk kids skating along the winding central path, giving pedestrians a start as they whooshed by them. He could see a few young couples sitting together, most making out like there was no tomorrow, some getting scolded by their presumed parents.

Now that he was looking more closely, there were a hell of a lot of young people around.

Oh yeah, that's right. The high school was right next to the park, and it was around midday, so a lot of these kids were probably on their lunch break.

He searched for some faces that he knew from his scouting but wasn't finding very many. Having a population under a thousand made Orden a small town, but actually being able to recognize a thousand different faces was still pretty unlikely, he supposed.

At length, a dog acquired his attention. A big Dantean Shepherd, black and brown fur with a bit of white mixed in around the legs, belly, and snout. Quite a formidable beast, by the look of it.

In his youth, he had loved dogs. That hadn't lasted very long, though. Animals in general seemed not to like him very much, but dogs in particular had never been anything but bastards to him. An encounter with a big bulldog at the age of nine had left him with a scar on his thigh, and an encounter with a rottweiler at the age of twelve had shredded the jacket that had been given to him by his late grandfather.

He had never felt such murderous intent toward a mere animal as he had on that occasion. If that demonic beast's owner hadn't been there to intervene, then he absolutely would've killed it and happily taken any punishment that followed.

Beyond those two incidents, however, Colt had always noticed a certain wariness that many dogs seemed to have in his presence. Not all, of course. Some were just loud and obnoxious around everyone. But frequently, it was there. In the ones with greater protective instincts, he suspected. As if they could sense the abnormality in him, the threat he posed to their masters.

And that was why he could hardly take his eyes off this dog now. The way it was staring back at him was only too familiar. If it wanted to attack him, fine. He could deal with that better than ever now, being undead. But if the mutt felt that way about his kids, too? If it attacked them?

He would rip its head off its body. Enhanced strength or not, he would do it.

Unfortunately, his little staring contest with the creature seemed to have the opposite effect on its owner. The small woman with caramel brown hair walked right on over to him, all smiles, apparently unconcerned about the fact that she might very well have a devil-eyed hellbeast on the other end of that leash in her hand.

"Are you a dog person?" she asked excitedly. "You can pet him, if you like! He's an absolute sweetheart!"

Colt had to wonder what in the hell was going through this woman's head, right now. Was it because of the twins? It must've been. The two of them must've been making him look far more friendly and trustworthy. Either that or this broad was just completely off her rocker.

Whatever it was, he had a decision to make. He really didn't want to pet that fucking mongrel over there, and judging from the way that it was glaring back at him, it probably didn't want him to pet it, either. But on the other hand, his entire reason for coming to Orden today was to meet people--and more importantly, to make a good impression on said people. And as much as he hated to admit it, this seemed like something a normal, well-adjusted person would probably do.

Right?

Of course, it wouldn't make such a good first impression if he ended up having to strangle this fucking dog in front of its owner, either, so maybe it would be safer to just politely decline.

But right as he was about to do that, he thought he saw something else in the dog's expression. Which was absurd, of course. He knew that. It was a fucking animal.

And yet.

Somehow, he was getting an unmistakable feeling of smugness from the damn thing. Like it could tell that he wasn't going to pet it? Like it was saying that he was afraid to pet it?

And in that moment--that split second in which his brain had to both perceive this probably nonexistent insult against him AND to respond to it--Colt threw away his previous rationalization.

Why? Because fuck this arrogant prick, that's why. He was going to pet the shit out of it.

"As long as you don't mind," he said, pulling Stephanie off his knee and setting her down gently.

"Of course not! Go right ahead! Brick loves it when you pat him on the head!"

Colt stood. "Statistically, that's very unlikely," he said. "Most dogs hate to be petted on their head, unless they already know you really well--and even then, experts say that the dog probably only puts up with it because it loves you so much."

Okay, so maybe he'd looked up how to get on a dog's good side a few times over the course of his life. It was just out of curiosity. Not because it actually bothered him all that much. And there was that time when he'd been forced to work with a K-9 unit on a search and rescue mission. Now that had been a dog. Reliable, good at its job. Sure, it had still stared at him in that familiar and vaguely threatening way during their off time, but hell, Colt had known plenty of human cops who weren't even half as professional as that thing had been.

The oblivious woman whose name he still didn't know seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Supposedly," Colt went on, "it's better to go for the back, chest, or neck." He approached the dog from the side but stopped short and held his hand out before getting too close. He remembered reading that with confident animals, as this one appeared to be, it was best to let them come to you and sniff you, first.

The bastard just sat there and stared at him, though.

"Ah, is that right?" the woman was saying, sounding pretty unconvinced of Colt's expertise.

He scowled. He supposed he shouldn't just run up and try to wrestle the dog into submission with so many witnesses around.

What was this damn thing's name again? Brick?

"Here, Brick," Colt tried. "C'mon."

Brick just snorted at him, and Colt swore that he could see that smug expression on his stupid dog face again, as if the blasted animal was daring him to come closer.

Alright, fuck this.

Colt walked right up to it and started stroking the back of its neck.

The dog had actually turned away from him for a second, perhaps out of sheer arrogance, so when Colt started petting it, the beast flinched with apparent surprise and then started growling at him.

"Brick!" came the woman's shriek. "No! Bad dog! What's the matter with you?!"

Brick stopped growling but seemed confused at her admonishment.

It was Colt's turn to look smug. He crouched down and rubbed the dog's chest, though Brick didn't look very pleased about it. "Good boy," said Colt with as much condescension as he could muster.

"I'm sorry about him," the woman was saying. "I don't know what came over him."

"No worries," said Colt, making sure to keep an eye on the twins. They were playing together in the grass, though Thomas seemed to be growing curious about the dog, too. "It seems like he listens to you pretty well."

"I should hope so," she said. "He's a certified police K-9 unit."

Oh, shit. "Really?" he couldn't help saying.

"Yep. My uncle trained him personally."

He wasn't sure he believed her, honestly. It didn't make any sense for a little town like this to have K-9 units. He wasn't trying to get into an argument or make an ass out of himself, though, so he put it out of his mind, stood up straight, and offered her a handshake. "Colton Thompson, by the way. You can just call me Colt."

She shook it daintily. "Janet Beaumont. And you've already met Brick."

Now that he was looking at her and not paying quite so much attention to the dog, he realized that she was actually quite beautiful. Big, brown eyes. High cheekbones. Late twenties, early thirties maybe. He didn't recognize her name from his scouting, which was odd, because if her uncle was a police officer, then he felt like he should recognize her. As far as he had been able to tell, there were only two cops in this town. The sheriff, Rexford Margot, and his deputy, Chadwick Hart, who probably wasn't even in town at the moment. Colt hadn't seen that guy in weeks.

"Lovely children you have," said Janet as Colt returned to them. "What're their names?"

"Stephanie and Thomas."

"They're absolutely adorable."

Colt just nodded, keeping an eye on Brick, who was staring at him again.

That seemed to invite an awkward silence, however.

Janet fidgeted in place for a second. "Um, well, it was nice meeting you."

"Same here. Have a good day."

As she was about to turn away, Thomas slipped out of Colt's grasp and ran at Brick.

For a horrible instant, every conceivable nightmare scenario blazed through Colt's head. Dog bite on the arm. On the nose. On the neck. Blood everywhere. More scars for life. Bleeding out. Death. Madness.

Colt was on his feet, wide-eyed and mere seconds away from jumping in and beating that animal to death. Police dog or not, in the middle of the park or not. None of that was about to matter.

But nothing happened.

Of course it didn't.

Brick hardly even reacted. If anything, the dog just looked slightly uncomfortable as Thomas tried and failed to give him a hug with his stubby little arms.

Colt breathed again and swallowed the lump in his throat.

Okay. Maybe he was a little too tightly wound.

He tried to relax. Calm down. Focus on his breathing. Everything was fine. Thomas was fine. Brick was obviously a well-trained animal. He wasn't going to attack a kid.

"Aw, isn't that cute?" laughed Janet, thankfully still oblivious.

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