Tabula Rasa - Murderer

Chapter Nine

Rachel Tyson hummed absentmindedly while she waited for the grocery store checkout line to move forward. The pile of food in her grocery cart was impressive. Steaks, ground hamburger, sausages, bacon, a roast chicken, milk, several boxes of Cap'n Crunch cereal- she spent a lot of money to feed just three people, but at least it meant her boys had a healthy appetite.

She glanced at the rows of items placed alongside the checkout line. Scanning the tabloids was a favorite pastime. She picked one up and studied the cover. Horror in the Hospital: Werewolf Attacks Vet Clinic! read the top story, complete with a picture of what looked like a man in a black werewolf costume standing menacingly over a terrified old lady clutching a poodle. Rachel placed it in the cart.

When Max came home he was greeted with his favorite dinner, extra juicy steak set out on the little table on the backyard patio. A lit candle in the centre of the table gave off a soft glow in the fading evening light. He wrapped his arms around Rachel, holding her tight for a long kiss. He would have her all to himself until their eight year old son Jamal returned from staying over at a friend's house.

They ate slowly, discussing their plans for the weekend. Rachel smiled and nodded at his suggestions, but Max could tell that her mind was elsewhere. He stopped talking. She looked up from her half empty plate to meet his eyes again and he reached out, placing his large, dark hand gently on her pale arm.

"You find another clue?"

"Yes, I… well, I mean, maybe. I'd like you to check, just in case."

Max sighed. Five years of searching, five years of dead ends and shattered hope. It was painful, watching her go on like this. There was tenderness in his deep voice, but his face told her clearly how tired he was of the situation.

"It's been a long time, Rachel. Long time. I still think he would have come back on his own if he was still out there somewhere. I'll do it though, whatever you need. What have you got this time?"

She reached under her chair and withdrew a newspaper, summarizing the article as she handed it to him.

"Big, long black fur and hair, sort of shepherdy looking. Changed in the waiting room of a vet clinic, of all places. Sound like anyone you know?"

Max shook his head, still scanning the article.

"No, can't say it does. I don't understand why you waste your time with these things. Pitiful excuse for journalism."

"Remember the Talbot's boy? The one who used to go into the park at night and jump out at humans? Sensationalism aside, they described him well enough for his father to recognize him."

Max couldn't help but let a light chuckle slip through his lips. He remembered all right. Funny story. Nobody got hurt, and it provided a good opportunity to remind Jamal of the importance of safety and responsibility around humans. He set the paper on the table, then looked into his wife's eyes again. He had just admitted she had a point with that laugh. Might as well go through with it.

"All right, I'll take care of it, don't worry. I'll find this guy and question him for you. If there really is a guy and this isn't just another joke."

Rachel smiled and relaxed her body from the tension that had gripped it.

"Thank you. I know it's a long shot, but we have to keep trying. There's a pattern in the disappearances. We just have to keep looking until we find someone who knows what's going on."

Though he didn't share her optimism, Max nodded in agreement.

"I'll go out tomorrow to scan for unfamiliar scents. Maybe he knows something about your brother, maybe he doesn't. I wouldn't get my hopes up too much about it, though."

                                                                                                                                                            ***

Max waited until he could move under the cover of darkness. With his large canine form, it paid to have every possible advantage. Few things could be more humiliating than getting nabbed by the dogcatchers.

He prowled the streets and alleyways, blunt muzzle to the ground and floppy ears swiveling to pick up any signs of movement. It was a simple strategy, but it was the best he could come up with at the moment. Find the scent of an unfamiliar shifter, and follow it. He and Rachel could both recognize any dog in town on the basis of an old trail, but he refused to let her tag along with him when he went looking for newcomers. He didn't trust strangers.

After a few hours' worth of searching he picked up an unknown trail in a part of town he rarely visited. He approached slowly as the scent grew fresher. His bulky brindle body filled the empty window frame of a rundown abandoned house, deep brown-black eyes scanning for any sign of inhabitance. A pair of glowing green orbs flashed into existence on the other side of the room.

Max lowered his head, pricked his ears forward, and greeted the strange dog with a soft woof. It stared for a few seconds longer, and he could just make out the subtle movement of its ears as it pinned them against its head. Now that he was breathing in the air of the room, Max could detect the scent of blood and feces, as well as a faint undertone of rotten flesh. As apprehensive as he was, he knew there would be no time to waste questioning the stranger if its health was declining. He leapt carefully over the broken glass of the window frame. The other dog didn't move.

He stopped about ten feet away, then changed fluidly back into his human form. He waited, giving the stranger time to do the same so they could speak to each other. Glowing green eyes focused on him, but the stranger made no attempt to move from its place of rest. Perplexed, Max decided to address it anyway.     

"Hey, it's all right, I'm not going to hurt you. Name's Max Tyson. I'd just like to have a word with you. It'll only take a minute."

The stranger didn't move. Now that Max was closer, he could see that it was a male and in even more pitiful condition than he had thought. He was thin, though how much was hard to see through the thick matted black fur. An unpleasant smell seeped from a wound in his left hind leg. Max frowned, then tried again.

"You're not looking too good there, buddy. Here's what we'll do. I'm going to go and get my car. You stay here, and I'll come back and pick you up. I'll take you wherever you need to go, just as long as you indulge me in a little conversation. That all right?"

The stranger squinted at him as if he couldn't be certain he was really there. He nodded his head slowly, then rested it between his paws. Max shifted back to canine form to hide his nakedness as he ran across the city to retrieve the car. Once there he changed back into the cloths he had left and returned to the old building. The stranger wagged his tail weakly as he approached.

"Come on, buddy. I understand if you're trying to be modest or something, but I really don't have time for this. Unless you've somehow managed to learn how to talk in dogform, we're not going to get anything accomplished here."

Much to his relief the stranger stood, balancing shakily on legs that looked like he hadn't used them much in the last few days. He closed his eyes, and Max could see the subtle ripple in his coat that indicated the beginning of the shift. Before he could pull himself any further into human form he let out a pained whine and collapsed. Max rushed forward and kneeled beside him.

"Whoa there, buddy! You're all sorts of messed up, aren't you? OK, change of plan. I'm going to take you back home with me. We'll get some food in you, let you clean yourself up, then I'll take you to the hospital. I'm going to carry you to the car now, and I swear, if you bite me I'll… well, you won't like it."

He lifted the stranger carefully, trying to avoid the wound on his leg. He could feel the tension gripping his muscles, but he made no attempt to struggle. Once he set him in the back seat of the car he relaxed, stretching his dirty body across the clean cushions and closing his eyes. Max pulled his cell phone out as he put the car in drive, making sure to let his wife know to expect company. He sighed after hanging up. Some romantic weekend this was turning out to be.   

When he got home Rachel opened the door for him and let the scent of homemade chicken noodle soup spill deliciously from the house, her reward for a hard night's work. The stranger perked up in Max's arms, nose quivering eagerly. Rachel hurried to get him a bowl of soup while Max carried him to the kitchen and set him down. She kneeled to put the bowl at his feet, meeting his gaze with soft green eyes framed by a gentle face and long red hair.

"You poor man. I'm so glad my husband found you. You'll be all right now."

He dropped his eyes, focusing on the soup instead. After a quick sniff he lowered his muzzle and began to lap it up. He yelped at the heat of the liquid, but continued to plunge his tongue into it. Rachel's eyes widened and she reached for the bowl.

"Wait; let me go put some ice cubes in it. No sense in burning your mouth."

The stranger snarled, baring his teeth and placing a paw protectively between her and the food. Max stepped into action immediately, seizing him by the scruff of his neck and lifting him into the air. He writhed and growled, showing considerably more life than he had at the abandoned house. Max winced at the noise. He shouted over it, his own teeth growing long and sharp in his frustration.

"Enough! I will not tolerate this behavior. If you hurt my wife, I swear I will kill you! Understand?"

The stranger went limp in his hand. He tucked his tail between his legs, pressed his ears flat against his head, and nodded. Max released him, letting him drop with a startled yelp to the floor.

"Max, please-"

"It's all right baby, fall isn't going to kill him. Now," he locked eyes with the stranger, who cowered at his feet, "you go get yourself cleaned up in the shower. Rachel has set out some of my old cloths for you to wear. You will come out, finish your soup, and tell me what I want to know. Then I'll take you to the hospital. Understand?"

The stranger nodded again. He reached out to lick Max's hand, but he withdrew it and took a step back.

"Cut it out! We're not human; you don't have to pretend for us."

Rachel pointed him in the direction of the bathroom, and they soon heard the sound of the shower running. She took the bowl of soup to the kitchen table, speaking with her back turned to her husband.

"You didn't have to do that. I was fine. He wasn't going to hurt me."

"You don't know that. There's something weird about this guy. I would have never brought him here if I knew he was going to threaten you like that."

They passed the next few minutes in silence, sitting at the table and letting their own bowls of soup cool. When they heard the bathroom door open they turned to the kitchen entrance, curious to see their houseguest in his human form.

He limped in slowly, head lowered and eyes fixed on the floor. Even in this hunched-over posture it was easy to see that he was a man of impressive stature. Max's tee shirt and jeans looked a bit short on him. He stopped beside Rachel.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was deep and quiet, lacking any shred of confidence that could have made it intimidating. Rachel smiled at him.

"It's OK. I think you were just a bit out of it, is all. Have you been spending a lot of time in dogform?"

"Yeah."

Rachel pointed him to the soup bowl. He watched Max out of the corner of his eye as he passed him.

"Bad thing to do," Max said, hoping to ease the tension a bit. "You need to be human to keep your humanity. Stay in dogform too long and things start to get blurry. Your animal instincts take over, won't let your human mind do the driving."

The stranger focused on the soup again. He lifted the bowl to his lips and drank eagerly, spilling a large portion on his shirt. Max shot him a disgusted look, but decided against bringing attention to it.

"Sorry if things started off a bit awkwardly," Rachel said, refilling his bowl and giving him a handful of paper towels. "I'm Rachel Tyson."

"Are you his wife?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to get a divorce soon?"

Confusion clouded her face. She glanced at Max. It didn't look like he had much patience left for this.

"Uh, no, why would you think that?"

"When a man and a woman meet they fall in love and get married, then they hate each other and get a divorce. Mr. Vance told me so."

"Well, yes, for some couples things don't work out, but we both love each other and nothing is going to come between us. This is getting off topic from the reason we contacted you though. I would just like to ask you a quick question, and then you can go. I'm sorry for forgetting to ask. What is your name?"

"Dog."

"What?"

"It's my name."

The conversation was taking on new depths of strangeness with each passing moment, but she continued anyway. She withdrew a photograph from her pocket and gave it to him.

"OK, Dog, I would like you to have a look at this picture and see if you recognize this man. His name is Daniel Southerland. He's my brother. He went missing five years ago, but he's not the only one. There have been many disappearances since then, all people like us."

Dog stared at the picture. He recognized the woman, Rachel, standing beside a man with sandy blond hair. They were both smiling. He let out a whimper and dropped the photograph.

"Was your bother… was he small, and, and yellow colored, with pointy ears?"

"Yes! Yes, he looked kind of like a Chihuahua. I used to tease him about it, when we were younger. Said it was all right if I looked like that in dogform since I was a girl, but it didn't look good on him. So you have seen him?"

"He's dead."

She didn't say anything for a while. Dog looked down at his lap, trembling slightly. When she spoke again she sounded tired, but there was still strength behind her voice, the desperate need to understand.

"How did it happen?"

"I killed him."

His voice was so quiet it was barely audible. He waited for the yelling, the crying, any outburst of anger to be hurled at him. When it did not come he risked a quick look at her. There was pain in her eyes, but so far she had managed to hold back the tears. Somehow, this reaction didn't make him feel any better.

"I'm sorry. It was an accident. He was protecting Mr. Jameson. He got in the way and I… and I don't know what I was thinking but I killed him and I'm sorry and I don't know what to say."

He slumped back in the chair, sniffling as tears started to roll down his face. Max decided it was time to take control of the situation. He leaned across the table and snapped his fingers.

"Hey! Look at me when I talk to you. I want you to tell me everything about how you met Daniel. I'll decide what to do with you when you're finished."

Dog obeyed.

"He belonged to Mr. Jameson just like I belonged to Mr. Vance. Mr. Jameson was a slave dealer. He tricked me and gave me something that took away all of my memories and told me I had agreed to work for Mr. Vance. Mr. Vance named me Dog. I was his bodyguard. He made me kill people, and one day he told me I had to kill Mr. Jameson too. I did what I was told, but Daniel got in the way. I'm sorry."

Max closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face. His voice lost its threatening tone.

"My God, Rachel. It was that crazy doctor. You remember? It was all over the news a couple weeks ago. Brainwashing girls and selling them. Are you telling me, Dog, that he was doing this to our people as well?"

"Yes. He said Daniel was the first. He made him track people like us so he could sell them. I think that's what happened to me, only I can't remember it."

Rachel stood and hurried out of the kitchen. Max remained focused on Dog.

"How did you figure out what happened? Do you know anything else about Daniel, like how he got to be in that situation?"

"Mr. Jameson told me. He told me a lot of things, but at the same time not really very much. He said he bought Daniel from someone named Mr. Cutter. He said Mr. Vance paid him to steal my memories. And then I killed him. I killed Mr. Vance too, not long ago. He wanted me to hurt someone who couldn't fight back. I was tired of killing. I didn't mean to, but I killed him and now I'm all alone and I don't know what to do anymore."

"You don't know anything else, like who this Mr. Cutter is or how he got a hold of Daniel?"

"No."

"OK then, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to go check on my wife, and when I get back I'm going to take you to the hospital. I'll pay for the doctor to fix your leg. You're on your own after that."

"No!"

"No what?"

"No doctors. I won't let him hurt me again."

"What the hell are you talking about? He's dead, he can't do anything to you. Those people are nothing like him."

"No doctors."

"Listen, buddy. I understand you've been through something traumatic, I get that, but you aren't going to survive long with an attitude like that. Even if you don't die your leg won't heal properly on its own, so be a man, suck it up, and let me take you to the hospital."

"No. I won't let it happen again."

Max ground his teeth. If the man preferred dying of gangrene to accepting free medical care, so be it. He left Dog alone in the kitchen.

The first thing he saw when he entered the bedroom was the pile of cloths tossed at the foot of the bed. Rachel was curled up in a tight ball on her pillow. She wagged her tail when she heard him come in. He sat down and stroked her patchy red-and-white spotted fur.

"Does it really help, baby? Sure, it keeps the tears away, but the feeling is still the same. It'd be better if you just let them come out. Have yourself a good cry, don't hold it all inside."

She leaned against his hand, closing her eyes as he rubbed her behind the ears.

"I'm so sorry about Daniel, baby. He was a victim, but this other guy is a victim too. I don't know what all happened to him, but he's broken inside. Messed up in the head. He refuses to go to the hospital. I've seen dogs heal from some pretty nasty stuff, but I don't know about this. I can't help him if he won't help himself. I'll get him out of here, if that's what you want. It's your call."

She shook her head. He could hardly believe her ability to forgive. If it was his brother who had been murdered, and he had the murderer sitting at his kitchen table, he wouldn't likely be sitting there for much longer. Not in one piece.

"All right baby, if that's what you want. I'll go see to him then."

He gave her one last gentle stroke before returning to the kitchen. Dog was where he had left him, but now he was under the table instead of seated at it. He lay curled up in a fetal position on the floor, having moved the six chairs back in place as if they could form some kind of shield against the outside world. He snored softly.

Max frowned and shook his head.

"Buddy, what on earth are we going to do with you?"