.8.

Somewhere outside Moline, Iowa

Dim light shone overhead. The shouts and jeers of humans filled the room. In the center, two dogs snarled at one another from opposing corners. Unleashed, they charged forward, clashing in a volley of growls and barks. They attacked without mercy, spinning and slashing, slipping in each other's blood.

A red brindle pit bull growled menacingly. Her eyes were filled with pure hatred. Scars criss-crossed her body, and one of her front paws was missing.

Her opponent was mostly white, with a few brown and red spots. Her face and legs were heavily scarred, and part of her jowl was torn off on the left, leaving her with a perpetual snarl.

Both had become fought their way up the ranks. They were young, well under a year old. Their owners just wanted to get them in as many fights as possible before their first heats, so their offspring would sell for top dollar.

"Go, Sheba, get 'er!" The white dog leapt forward, grabbing her opponent by her uncrippled foreleg. She bore down as the red dog latched onto her shoulder. "Athena! Fight back!" Sheba twisted her head, unbalancing the other dog. Athena gave a loud yelp, releasing her grip. Sheba grabbed her by the throat, sinking her teeth in. She could feel blood bubbling up into her mouth, but she didn't deliver the final blow.

"Kill her, Sheba!" The crowd was now shouting ecnouragement. "Hey! We never agreed for this to be a fight to the death!" Athena's owner screamed, leaping over the barrier. "Call off your dog!" "Sheba! Release!"

Sheba bit down harder, just to prove to Athena she could. Then slowly, deliberately, she released the red dog. Athena lay on the floor, gasping for air and bleeding profusely. Her eyes were glazed over, legs twitching.

"Fantastic bitch you got there." Sheba'as owner grinned as he leashed her up. "Yeah. Last fight for her, for now. She should be going into heat any day now. I'm takin' her up near Flint to be bred to Riot." The other man gave a low whistle. "Shit, so that's why you're drivin' her that far. You're gonna get some damn fine dogs outta her – fast and merciless. Let me know when she whelps."

"Fetch me a pretty penny, too." He tugged on the leash. "Let's get you cleaned up." Sheba stared at the blood stain on the floor, where she'd nearly killed Athena. Her eyes hardened.

This was not the life she'd wanted.

Her name wasn't Sheba. It was Gin.

It had been four months since she'd been taken from the shelter in Calgary. Four months since she'd seen him. In her heart, she knew she owed him her life, but at the same time, she knew there was a good chance he was dead.

She was eight months old now. At six months, she'd been put in her first fight. Over the last two months, she'd worked her way through the ranks. There was little rest between fights. She had no real home, as her owner dragged her from state to state. She was often chained and left in wooded areas with other dogs.

Some of them would try to fight her, straining at the end of their chains to the point of choking themselves. Others would just sit there, catatonic until they were taken. Still others would scream and cry, flailing at the end of their chains, trying to snap their own necks.

Many times, they didn't come back.

She no longer spoke to the other dogs. There was no point to it. But sometimes, she missed the conversation.

Her owner led her out to his truck, where he toweled off the blood as best he could and surveyed her wounds. "You don't need any stitches today. Good." He tugged on her leash, prompting her to jump up into her crate, which he covered with a blanket and surrounded with suitcases.

She knew the deal. If he got pulled over, no barking. No movement. Nothing.

"You know where you're going? You're goin' to my buddy's place. You ain't goin' to fight, though. You're gonna go have some pups out in Michigan."

Something stirred in her heart.

Michigan?

I know that name...

She stiffened. That's where...That's where I'm from...That's where Gene...

She shut her eyes, not realizing she was crying. Gene...I want you...I want my mom...I don't wanna do this anymore...

"Hey, almost forgot – this is a long trip, and I can't really let you be seen, so..." Her crate door was opened, and a pill forced into her mouth. She gagged and struggled, but was soon overpowered and swallowed it. She whined as the drug took effect, making her feel heavy.

Are you still out there, Gene? You...remember...right?

She flopped over, limp, into a dreamless state.

===

She awakened on the end of a chain.

"So, she's in heat now?" "Yeah, just in time." "That's good. We'll try her until her cycle's over."

Gin stirred. She was being held in a grove of trees. Several empty chains lay scattered nearby. "Let her get acclimated, get the drugs out of her system." "Alright. I'll call you when she's ready."

She raised her head. A black dog was staring at her from the treeline. He muzzle was greyed out. A broad scar ran around his neck, and more covered his face. He regarded Gin quietly.

Her owner noticed him, too. "You got a loose dog." "Shit. Yeah, that's Charon. I don't know how he got loose, but I can't catch the son-of-a-bitch." "He cause trouble?" "No, he just stays on the outskirts."

Gin's owner crouched down near her. "You get good and knocked up. I'll be back in a while." He left with his friend, leaving Gin alone in the grove. She scanned the treeline for the black dog, but he seemed to have disappeared.

She huffed, and laid her head on her paws. I just got here, and I hate it. I don't want kids. Especially not if they're gonna be put through this.

She slept into the night. Around 2 A.M., something awakened her. She groaned. "The hell?..." It was like a licking, chewing sensation on her neck. She rolled halfway over. Charon sprang backwards, out of her reach. "What are you doing?"

He made no effort to speak. He blinked his yellow eyes and tilted his head slightly. He backed away into the woods, melting into the darkness.

"What the fuck," was all Gin could think to say.

====

She awoke the next day to more hell.

Riot, a large dark brindle dog, was brought out to her, and she was unchained. It took two people to hold her the first time. All she could do was scream and cry, then spend the day wallowing in her own misery. Riot had laughed at her screams.

That night, Charon came back with more of the licking and chewing nonsense. She snapped at him, furious at the world.

The next day, she was violated again. Charon returned in the night.

This continued for four days.

On that day, her rage boiled to the surface. Only one person had to hold her now. Riot was left to his own devices. "Hey, sweet. You miss me?" "I hate you. I hate all of you." "You've got quite a mouth on you today. You'd better shut up and enjoy it." He laughed. Gin seethed.

He moved in closer, dragging his disgusting tongue over her flank. "Don't do that. Don't you dare do that." "What? You didn't like it?" "I'll kill you." He smirked. "Big talk for a bitch." He gave her a toothy grin. "I hope your kids turn out just like me."

She gave a scream of pure rage, and turned, slashing at the hand of the man holding her collar. At that moment, she heard a sharp, quick snap – the snap of leather giving way.

And she was free.

She turned on Riot, a guttural cry escaping her as she connected with his throat. His eyes were wide in shock. The human had run off, screaming for help. She had Riot pinned on his back. His struggled helplessly, fear in his eyes.

"Don't kill me," he simpered. "Why shouldn't I? All! You! Cause! Is! Pain!" She punctuated each word by slamming his head into the dirt. "I was just doing my job..." He whimpered.

"I wanna make sure you can't do your job again. What would you rather lose? Your nuts or your life?" "N-neither!" She narrowed her eyes. "That wasn't a choice." "P-please! Have mercy!" She was silent for a moment, digging her teeth deeper into his throat. "I lost my mercy a long time ago."

He screamed, crying and pleading with her. She looked him dead in the eye as she bit down. He gurgled once. Twice. And went limp.

She let go and stepped back, staring at him. He wasn't the first dog she'd killed. But he'd been the most deserving. She flinched as she heard footsteps and yelling rapidly approaching.

Gin darted into the woods, unsure of her direction. All she knew was she needed to escape. Fast. A black blur suddenly darted in front of her, and she skidded to a halt in the leaves.

Charon stared at her, unblinking. He tilted his head. "You again! Look, if you're gonna take me back by force, I..." She trailed off. He wagged his tail as she came to a realization.

"You were chewing through my collar." He nodded. "You can't speak, can you?" He shook his head. The shouts grew louder.

"Can you help me?" He turned, yellow eyes speaking. Follow me. He took off, weaving through shrubbery, jumping across ditches and weaving through rocky hillsides, Gin on his heels. They came to a stop near a highway. "Thank you..." Charon blinked.

"Um, I don't know if you can help me, but...I need to get to a place called Detroit." His eyes lit up, and he slapped the ground with his front paws. "You know it?!" He bounced again. "It's really important, I have to find someone." He turned towards a sign on the side of the road, and jumped, bouncing off of it. Interstate Highway 75 South – Pontiac – Royal Oak – Detroit.

"Is it a long way?" He nodded. She smiled, the first smile she'd had in months. "Do you wanna go with me? It's gotta be better than hanging out here." He bumped her shoulder with his head, tongue hanging out. "Is that a yes?" He nodded, grinning at her.

"Then let's get the hell outta here."

They took off, two pit bulls running side by side away from a nightmarish existence. One black, one white, they both bore the heavy scars of their past.

As they traveled along the highway, at the same time, Gene and Val were headed east...