Hello! So, here's the next chapter and... I have a confession to make. No! It's not something bad, so don't you look at me like that. I don't want to bandy with words, so here it goes:
I have no idea what I'm doing.
Let me invite you into my thought process for a moment. I have the beginning set in stone, and I know how the story is gonna settle at the end, what I don't know is that peak on the storyboard chart... or the slope leading up to it. I usually sit down, ready to type, and end up doing nothing for thirty minutes as I think. A lot of what I write is spontaneously thought up as I hit the keys. So, it's like this:
Readers: We have no idea what's happening next! It's so awesome!
My Group of Editors and Proofreaders: We don't know where this is heading, but the fans are loving it! What's next?
Me: I dunno! It's exciting, isn't it?! (Which is kinda like a bunch of people in a minivan on a road trip. The passengers and the driver are all like "I wonder where we're going?")
Disclaimer: I don't own Paw Patrol. I'm pretty sure you're all fine with that, because then all my craziness would end up on the big screen... unless you like crazy, then you'd love my version of Paw Patrol, though it might end up not being strictly a kids show. It might become something more akin to Star Wars Rebels or The Bad Batch, just loopier. Oh well, we can dream, can't we?
Other Disclaimer: I believe Everest lived in Canada and that's where they found her. I have a ton of reasons for that assumption, but I'll keep it brief and to my three major points. 1. The Paw Patrol drove to her home, which can't happen if you're going to the South Pole. 2. Proximity to pine forests and the fact that there was a road, which neither exist down there. 3. Bears. Jake would know that there weren't bears in the South Pole, and Everest said: "We don't usually get bears around here." That implies that they do occasionally show up. Now, I know the penguins detract from the credibility of my claim because they exclusively live in the southern hemisphere, but I have come up with decent explanation to that problem, as you will find out later. If you disagree, that's totally fine! You're gonna have to accept it here, though.
5:45 AM, 150 klicks off of Monterey Bay, California.
Chase had a horrible dream. He dreamt he had joined Sid the Pirate's crew and was sailing on an expedition to England while another boat shot cannons at them. Oh, and Marshall had an eye patch. It wasn't until the crazy buccaneer's voice came over the ship's intercom when the policepup realized with a groan that his dream was a reality, minus the attacking ship.
"Alrighty ye squibs! It's time to be up an' workin' yer wages!"
Chase hopped off his hammock, stumbling a little in his tiredness and to the sway of the ship. Last night, Chase, Marshall, Rocky, Tanya, Captain, Tomissen, and Busby had paid Sid with golden doubloons to take them to Barkingburg. The idea to hire the kleptomaniac scalawag was courtesy of Rocky, who Chase was beginning to think was insane. The gold had come from the museum; Mayor Goodway, after hearing the full story of the Paw Patrol's predicament and hearing Rocky talk about salvage laws for an hour and a half, was more than willing to donate some of Blackfur's gold to help and "take down that no-good Humdinger." After getting the treasure, they had quietly left Jake in charge of the Lookout and booked their ride on the Sleight of Hand, the boat that could turn submersible and was Sid's pride and joy. Once upon a time, Sid and Arrby, his first mate, had sailed in the Swashbuckle Sloop, but now he had a bigger, badder boat which had come out of the blue, and the Swashbuckle Sloop was not seen for ages.
"Did he say wages?" Tanya yawned, flopping out of her hammock above Tomissen's and onto the floor with a plop, making the beagle jerk up with a yelp.
"No! I'm sorry! I do love your fur!" He blinked. "I mean, what's happening?"
"Rise and shine!" Arrby the Dachshund's cheery voice sounded as he scurried into the cabin. He wore a dark blue vest and a red and white pirate bandanna, and towed a bucket and a mop with him. The lights all turned on, making Chase squint. "Time to make this rust-bucket shipshape! Captain's orders."
"Who said my name?" Captain asked groggily from down the row. "What did I order?"
Arrby giggled. "Not you, Border Collie Mr. Captain Guy. I meant Sid Swashbuckle!"
"Oh, so that wasn't my imagination that we joined up with a pirate? If this is what it's like being part of the Paw Patrol, you've a way more exciting job than I thought." The Collie leapt to the floor, rocking a little with the ship.
There were several yawns and grumbles as all of the pups left their hammocks, listening to Arrby detail the chores list. "... Marshall and Mr. Squeaky Frog clean the bilge, the beagle will help me change the sails, Mr. Policepup has swabbing the galley, and the Husky can organize the hold, please and thank you all." He turned to leave but was stopped by the red Husky.
"Excuse me, cutie, where's the hold exactly?" Tanya smiled and asked the pirate puppy, who's tail began wagging at lighting speed.
"Oh, it's down the hall, take the first stairs to the bottom, then you'll be there Nice Husky Ms. Tanya, ma'am," he answered, smiling back with a sparkle in his eyes.
"Thank you!" She said in a singsong voice as she walked into the hall, looking rather chipper, while all the others stumbled out like a bunch of drunken sea rats.
"What's a bilge?" Marshall asked Chase as they made their way out, Busby rolling at his heels. He just shrugged, smirking at the eyepatch the Dalmatian had been wearing over his left eye since the night before.
"Try asking little Mr. Pirate-Speak for directions..." He watched the said Dachshund scurry by, grinning happily and whistling, his eyes following a certain pup. "Though I doubt he'll be as eager as when answering Tanya," Chase added in a low, conspiratorial whisper. Marshall sniggered.
?, Barkingburg.
Zuma had been pacing so long, he was sure he'd wear a groove into the stone floor.
He silently looked over his fellow cell-dudes. Skye was curled up on the ground. Aside from occasionally whimpering, the cockapoo made no signs of even being awake for the past few hours, not even eating the food which was delivered or looking up at the others. Everest was angrily doing push-ups. Man, that babe sure had muscles. Whenever one of their captors happened to stroll by, she would silently get near the bars and, if the opportunity provided itself, sink her fangs into their leg. She'd already racked up a count of four bites before they learned their lesson. Sweetie had complained about the low-quality food and taken to barking insults at any passerby. Once, though, Zuma had caught tears being shed from those magenta eyes. Tracker had been in his corner, sorrowful and mostly inactive. He tried talking a few times, and was beginning to manage a few English words here and there, but otherwise he was still in "Modo Español." Rubble still hadn't been returned, and the Labrador was starting to get worried about his friend. What could they be doing to him?
A quick glance out of the cell confirmed that Ryder was still sitting, head down, face hidden, and shoulders occasionally heaving. The two older men had been trying to comfort the boy for hours to no avail. Zuma hated seeing their leader like this, so broken and helpless. Heck, he hated feeling so helpless. Even though the situation seemed dire, he refused to believe his brothers were dead.
"Harold could've faked the news," Zuma tried to lift the spirits in the camp. "Maybe he used some sort of machine with a stupid name like 'Fake Newspaper-inator' to make it. Besides, pictures or it didn't happen, am I right?"
"¿Has estado prestando atención? Hay una foto," Tracker said, standing and walking to the dreaded newspaper. He flipped to a page with a picture of the flaming ship, splitting in half in the bay and listing at a precarious angle. The photo seemed to have been taken from the Seal Island Lighthouse.
"Maybe he has good photoshop capabilities?" Zuma offered.
"Face it," Sweetie spat. "We're stuck and our friends are all having teatime with angels by now. It's all hopeless."
"No. It's never hopeless, dudette. I refuse to accept defeat." Zuma thought for a bit. "Did you read the paper? It said that casualties are unconfirmed. What if Harold stole it and just blew it up to scare people?"
Sweetie eyed him skeptically. "So, you think he stole the boat and just detonated it in the bay? For no real reason?"
The Labrador snorted. "Heck, I don't know what goes on in the minds of villains! Daring Danny chucked the Paw Patroller into the bay once."
"Are you calling him a villain?" Everest asked, pausing her push-up halfway down to look at him.
"If the studded leather boot fits."
She nodded. "Just checking." She finished the push-up then walked over. "What then? Even if our friends are alive, what do we do?"
Zuma bit his lip. "Maybe we can figure out a jailbreak plan? We could-"
"Zuma." They all turned to look at Skye. Her eyes were red from crying and had lost their usual shine of excitement. All that was left was a look of deep sadness, like something was broken inside of her that might not be able to get fixed. "What could we do? We're locked in here, tired and weak. Harold has got a veritable army of goons, and they're armed. What do we have? Our tags are gone, we don't have packs, vehicles, nothing. He's won, and there's nothing we can do about it." Zuma tried to retort but found he couldn't. Her depressing statement had sapped what emotional strength was left in the prisoners. He was about ready to join her on the floor when a quiet voice sounded from across the room.
"'All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing,'" Ryder said, standing slowly raising his hoarse voice. "That means pups, too. Come on, if our friends were dead, would they want us here like this? Languishing at Harold's mercy? No! They would want us to fight. Let's break out and show Harold what this pack of pups can do, and we'll do it for them! If they're watching, let's make them proud! And if they're alive," his voice had the smallest hint of hope. "We need to be ready to help when they face the foe. All of us!"
Zuma grinned, glad the boy was back in the fight. Everest howled, and Sweetie nodded, inspiration in her eyes. The two butlers in Ryder's cell clapped, fire in their eyes. Even Skye stood, the light of hope rekindled in her gaze.
"Vamos a patearle el trasero a Harold," Tracker said with determination. He stopped and tilted his head, ears moving like sonar dishes. He looked at the others with alarm. "¡Viene alguien!"
"Huh?" Zuma asked.
"Someone is coming!" Sweetie hissed, lying flat on her belly. "Act like scared puppies."
"Uh, nah-ah. I don't do scared."
She rolled her eyes. "Then just act natural."
Zuma turned as the big metal door swung open and several suited guys marched in, carrying a metal pet carrier and brandishing their earlier gear. The carrier, to Zuma's alarm, was empty. The group of goons approached the bars, and all of the pups retreated, growling. The cell door was unlocked and opened as they set up the cage. Several of their number stepped inside.
"Where's Rubble?!" Ryder yelled at them, but they all ignored the boy.
"Who's next for their vet appointment?" The lead man chuckled with malice, hefting a gun. He quickly singled out on Skye, who was closer than the others. "Hey there, sweetie. How about you come along for a quick check-up, huh?" His voice dripped with fake kindness like venom.
"Don't you bozos know anything? I'm Sweetie," the princess pup couldn't help but say.
"Shut it, mutt," the guy said. The men were closing in on the cockapoo who stood frozen in fear. They looked ready to hook her when Zuma made a split-second decision and stepped up.
"I'll go."
"Huh?" One of the goons said as they all stopped to face the Lab.
He smiled his best 'I'm chill' smile. "I said I'll go, dude."
The lead guy turned to another, who shrugged. "Okay, suit yourself. You're all getting turns anyway."
They exited the cell as Zuma walked towards them. Passing by Skye, he whispered: "Think of a plan to get out." He didn't turn back as he continued to the dog carrier. He stepped inside and finally faced the others as the doors shut with a click. Skye had tears of fear, sorrow, and gratitude in her eyes, and Zuma gave her a nod and a smile. "See ya'll on the other side!" He called casually, like he was going out to lunch or something. He was glad his voice didn't let on the incredible amount of terror that he truthfully was feeling. What had they done to Rubble? What were they going to do to him? Zuma's cage was hefted up and away.
"Be strong!" Ryder called as he passed by, a mixed look of pride and desperation on the boy's face. Zuma grinned for him.
"I always am, dude!"
7:26 AM, 389 klicks off the California coast near Santa Maria
The salty smell of the ocean was carried via the breeze to Chase's nose as he swabbed the deck, unrestrained sunshine making his brown fur shimmer. Paws soaked in water, he maneuvered the mop in his mouth, periodically washing it in the wooden bucket that sat nearby and wringing it. Sid stood at the helm, keeping the ship on course and occasionally throwing some words of "encouragement" in the Deutscher Schäferhund's direction, much to his increasing annoyance.
"That's it, swabbie! Put some paw-grease into it!"
Chase rolled his eyes. Not that he was angry about the chores, he didn't mind those at all. They had, after all, agreed to help keep the boat shipshape while they were onboard. He just had a lot on his mind and was generally irritable lately.
"Make them boards shine!" Sid called.
Chase put up him for the whole time it took to accomplish his chore. When he finished, Chase plunked the mop into the bucket and lay down on his belly with a sigh. He had swabbed just about every floor the ship had, some more than once, and now he was dead beat. His ears perked up to hear his friends coming up from below deck.
"Hey Chase! You ready for breakfast?" Marshall came plodding up, voice muffled slightly by the bowl he carried. Busby hopped step by step, following Marshall closely. After the frog came Arrby, Tomissen, Captain, Rocky, and then Tanya. Everyone had their own bowl in their mouth, while Arrby carried a second one in a claw arm from his pup pack which was shaped like a treasure chest, and Tanya transported a stack of magazines directly on her back.
Chase straightened as Marshall set the bowl down in front of him, smiling up gratefully. "Thanks, bud," he said before diving in. All of the pups lay or sat in a rough circle, eating silently for a few minutes and listening to the waves.
Tanya cleared her throat. "I found some magazines down below."
"And ye left 'em with the powder, aye?" Sid asked from his place up at the helm.
"Powder?" Tanya asked, cocking her head at the pirate who chuckled.
"Sorry, wrong magazines. Yer fine usin' those, just put them back when yer done. I collect 'em and I need, need, need every single one! Savvy?"
"Aye-aye, captain!" Tanya saluted with a giggle before spreading out the articles on the planks. Marshall gasped.
"Is that The Road: Exclusive edition?!" He had stolen it from the Husky instantly, eyes flying over the cover. Chase raised his head a little, seeing it was dominated by a rich looking guy in a leather jacket and skinny jeans and having the weirdest hairdo that was slicked back in the back but had a bulbous bulge in the front, almost looking like a glob of toothpaste. He was leaning on the door of his flawless Ferrari like 'I got this trashy lemon from my grandpa as a birthday gift to match the other ten I have in my garage.' The Dalmatian, always the fan of fast cars, began looking through page after page quickly, turning back and forth quite frequently. "Hey, the Whoosh is racing in the Miami Golden Circuit next Friday! A brutally challenging three lap special course with twenty-nine participating contenders. The Cheetah was going to be a participant but was disqualified for blowing a racer's tires with side spikes during the qualification rounds in Tampa."
"Leave it to a Humdinger to cheat, huh?" Rocky smirked. "At least those officials can spot bad actors, unlike some certain Adventure Bay racing officials I can name."
Marshall flipped the page. "Mor Corp, in cooperation with Varmitech Industries, is running trials on the new 2020 Morspeed Jaguar. Currently, neither of the companies have released any data on the new sports car. Varmitech Industries CEO Zachary Varmitech has, in a statement at the Chicago FutureWheels convention, claimed, 'It is very fast, highly maneuverable, and has great control at top speeds. As we speak, it is on speed trials to determine its max speed, but seeing as how I helped make it, I doubt we'll ever find that.' CEO of Mor Corp, Dr. Thaddeus Morocco, at the same event, said of it, 'It moves so fast, rides so smoothly, and runs so silently that one could really think it were a Jaguar, lurking through the jungle shadows in search of its next prey.' Mor Corp and Varmitech Industries are famous for their efforts in utilizing alternative energy, but when questioned as to what fuel the Jaguar ran on, Varmitech stated, 'We cannot release a statement on that particular subject as of yet.' He continued to assure the audience that it ran on a natural energy source so pure, 'It's almost alive itself!' sparking many speculations across the automobile industry."
Chase kind of stopped listening after that, becoming engrossed in staring at the horizon, lost in thought. They were finally on their way to Barkingburg to rescue their friends. He had to admit that he didn't foresee things going quite like this. Chase had thought they'd be riding the Air Patroller, not sailing down in Sid Swashbuckle's ship. He had expected to be going to face Sweetie, not to rescue her from Harold Humdinger. And even if he had known it was Harold, he wouldn't have been prepared for how violent things got. That boy was playing a more dangerous, aggressive game this time around, and it was starting to be frightening.
The sea breeze flowed through Chase's fur, making him shiver slightly as he puzzled over one thing that kept nagging at him, tugging at his brain and screaming one word: Why? Why was Harold doing all of this? Usually, the boy had an identifiable plot, something obvious that he wanted. Now, that Humdinger of a problem had left no clue to his motive, not a whisper whatsoever. Even Tundra and Luka confessed that they didn't know what Harold was up to. Their former master had just created them and given them a task, no questions asked. Luka had added that the cockapoo clone was the leader. Anything extra that Harold might've imparted had died with her on the Sea Patroller, leaving Chase raking his mind over the one keyword that could change the meaning of the entire voyage, the potential suffering of their friends, and the grief he, Marshall, and the others felt: Why?
The others continued talking and laughing with each other, and Chase turned back to his half-eaten bowl of surprisingly high-grade dog food. Chase was familiar with the brand, but it was so expensive only the most affluent dog owners could get it in bulk. Then again, Sid stole nearly everything he had, so it was reasonable to assume Chase was eating stolen goods.
"I had no idea you were in the Puptacular show," Tanya exclaimed, looking up from her magazine and at Rocky. "Pups on that are fashion models and famous dogs, the stuff of dreams and movies, and yet you won?"
"I know, biggest surprise of my life, right before getting to drive the Whoosh's car and learning about Rubble's plushy cat collection," Marshall said with a playful grin.
"Plushy cat collection?" Tomissen asked, looking half bewildered and half suspicious.
Rocky shrugged humbly. "Katie did all the work, grooming and brushing and making me bathe." He shuddered at his least favorite 'B' word before resuming. "All I did was walk down an aisle making funny faces, do tricks, and speak. Then again, only an eighth of the dogs there were talking ones, so maybe that helped my chances..."
Tanya was grinning. "Well, they're holding another one in a month at Toronto. You gonna go defend your title as 'The Puptacular Pup?'"
Rocky shook his head. "Nah, there were too many snots and rich people there. I swear I was gonna bite a couple of those people in their rears for saying some things about mongrels if Katie hadn't been holding my figurative leash. You're a Husky though, with that red coat and flashy smile and a little bit of swagger in your step, I'm sure you could win it, easy."
Tanya blushed. "I'm not pretty enough for something like that."
Arrby shook his head, saying in the sincerest voice: "Yes, you are, Tanya ma'am. You're an immaculately beautiful Husky and I'm sure you'd stun those land lubber judges overboard and to the sharks." The little pup froze, as if he just realized he had said that out loud.
"Aww, thanks," Tanya gushed. "You're a real sweetie, Arrby." The Dachshund's face lit up like a light bulb, bright enough Chase almost had to squint to look at him. "But anyway, I'd rather leave it to those fancy poodles and the like to do those things."
"I'm loathe to interrupt," Sid called to them from the helm. "But there's a storm a comin' and we need to batten down the hatches afore I can change to submersible mode."
"Storm?" Tomissen asked, looking around at the perfectly clear skies. "In this weather?"
Sid nodded. "A junior like yerself wouldn't be able to tell, but I know when the storms a comin', and it is! Arrby! You and those rapscallions make ready to dive!"
"Aye-aye, Captain Boss Mr. Sid, sir!" Arrby stood and cheerfully faced the others. "Alright pups! I need Marshall and Tanya to make sure there's no loose cargo rollin' about in the halls down below. That beagle and Chase work on securing the rigging. Mr. Border Collie and I will clear the deck, and Rocky reports to Sid to help with the transformation. Everypup get going, please and thank you kindly!"
"Aye-aye!" Everyone called in unison then laughing in surprise at the overlapping response.
Turns out the sailor was right. About thirty minutes after Sid had put the roof on the sub, clouds had formed a congregation in the sky, belting out long hymns of wind that carried across the oceanic theater. The sea had begun rollicking and rolling, tossing the floating craft up and down before Sid finally dove down beneath the waves.
The pups had found a foosball table in the ship and pushed it over into the control room, and while Sid steered, humming to himself, Captain and Chase played with the mini-soccer players, alternating who held the lead, sometimes by two or more points. Tanya was laying on her tummy nearby, playing a game War with Rocky and Arrby, using cards with funny pirate illustrations on them. Marshall sat with Busby, eyepatched lifted up, both reading a magazine from the stack of The Road... at least, Chase assumed Busby was reading, as he was staring at the pages Marshall looked at. Chase could never tell. Tomissen was slowly inching towards the tech panels by the helm, behind Sid's back, and was reaching a tentative paw to press a big, red button with a skull depiction. Right before he could push it, Sid swiftly smacked the paw, making the beagle jerk backwards with a yip.
"Hands off, ye scurvy dog."
Tomissen, rubbing and cradling his freshly swatted appendage, grumbled. "My human is never as persnickety as you. Tomissen will find something else to do." Tomissen ambled off to look in a stack of crates.
"Ha Ha!" Rocky shouted, smacking his cards down and standing, grinning smugly. "You got taught!" The outburst drew Chase's attention away long enough for Captain to score. The Collie smirked at him, and Chase grunted as he served the next ball. "I'll shuffle and deal this time."
Chase listened to the sounds of Rocky randomizing the cards as he tried to focus on the game. The ball shot of the feet of Captain's blue right-midfielder at an angle, but the red center-back was there to punt it back across the wooden field, bouncing off of Captain's goalpost with a metallic Ping!
"So, I've never seen you with the Paw Patrol before, Tanya," Arrby said slowly. "You new to Adventure Bay?"
"Oh yeah," Tanya responded casually, sifting through her freshly dealt cards. "I came here about a month ago. The man who I was staying with found out Everest, my cousin, lived there, so he asked Jake if he was fine with taking another Husky in, and ta-da!"
"You're cousins with Everest?"
"Yep. We both grew up in the same town up in Canada."
"And then you got adopted by different families?" Arrby asked.
Tanya sighed, setting her cards down. "No, nothing that easy." The room had gone silent at her somber tone. Chase and Captain were both looking over at the card group, who faced the red Husky.
"What happened?" Rocky questioned, already having put his cards on the floor, face down.
Tanya blew out air. "Well, I'll try to keep it short, but me and Everest both lived in a town that no longer exists named Tlingani. My name was actually Flurry, but we'll get to the change eventually. Anyway, neither of us knew our parents, and we lived with this family of four. They weren't mean, but they weren't the best. They kinda didn't care what we did, as long as we came when called and obeyed their commands. Really, we were a prize for them, being the only talking dogs in the whole town, something to show off." Tanya wrinkled her nose in disgust before continuing. "Then, one winter night the earthquake happened. It was so terrifying! I still remember the groaning sound that came before everything started shaking. Vases toppled and shattered, paintings fell, and in some places, the house's roof caved in. I cannot begin to describe how it feels when the solid earth is no longer... solid, when it is rocking back and forth, making you stumble and become klutzier than Marshall. It sounded like a huge monster had just woken up, and it felt like he was on the move. With everything falling down around us, Everest and I ended up jumping out a window into the snow to escape."
All the pups, except Tomissen who was silently rummaging through the crates, had gathered around her to listen.
"I remember there was plenty of shouting and even some screaming, and there were some flames flickering in the darkness. We were still in shock when those penguins waddled by. I was honestly so confused as to why they weren't in the zoo anymore, but all I knew for sure was that they were going somewhere." She shook her head. "Everest always had this idea that she was going to be a rescuer someday, and she was always so daring, even an earthquake only frightens her for a short time before she's back into action. That little stinker decided to 'rescue' those flightless fouls because they looked 'lost.'" Tanya chuckled. Chase noticed Marshall smiling at the description of the other Husky.
"Everest ran off after them and I, determined to be a good older cousin, charged after her into the dark. I lost sight of her in the crowd of suited birds, but the large group was staying together so I could reason she was still in front of me somewhere. What you all know is that big earthquakes have aftershocks, sometimes big ones. I was climbing a snow hill when the ground started shaking again. The hill collapsed, sending penguins, snow, and me tumbling. I got buried from head to paw. It took about five minutes to dig myself out, and by that time," she paused, grimacing at the memory. "I was alone."
Arrby was leaning forward, eyes widened to double size. "W-what happened next?"
She smiled at the little Dachshund. "It's a long story, but to make it short I eventually was rescued by a kind, young medical student named Rodion Volkov who's from St. Petersburg and is living and training in medicine at Alberta. He also works as an EMT. He took me in, and we became friends. Because of him I learned medical skills and chose to change my name. He also taught me small bits of his language."
"Wow, that explains the penguins Jake was monitoring." Marshall said. "Everest never talked much about her past, and I didn't ask because I don't like imposing. That must've been tough to go through."
"It's over now, I found my cousin, and I'm never losing her again." Chase recognized the determination in her tone which stated without words: 'I will rescue Everest and rip Harold's head off for messing with my family.' Tanya looked over at Chase. "That reminds me, I'm not that familiar with some of your guys' stories." He realized she was inviting him to share it.
"Um, well, it's not as dramatic as yours, but definitely not happy."
"Ah great," Sid grumbled from his place. "Another sob story. Too many tears an' yer gonna make me ship waterlogged and sink."
"I lived in Adventure City before I joined the Paw Patrol," Chase continued, ignoring the disgruntled pirate. "In fact, there wasn't a Paw Patrol yet. I had my parents and four older siblings, and we lived in apartment 7110P, on Coral Road. Our first owner was a nice elderly man and his wife who had come from Germany with my father, but he passed away soon after I was born. His wife, who would go soon afterwards, gave us to a man who wanted us. What he didn't say, was that he and his girlfriend didn't want puppies, only two full grown German Shepards. So, one night when my parents were both asleep, they loaded us in a box and drove downtown. I was still half asleep, contentedly snuggling with my brothers and sister on a red blanket, when I felt a pair of hands grip me and suddenly, I was on the cold sidewalk, people milling about and cars honking." Chase thought back to the memory, watching the pickup truck race away, then the fear and confusion that made him run after it, through the many legs that walked by. Soon he had lost sight of it in the horde of headlights, and he began taking turns like a headless chicken, running with no sense of direction. He had accidentally dashed out onto the road and turned to see a pair of glaring lights baring down on him. "Then Ryder found me and saved me from getting run over by a truck. He and his parents were visiting the city and were on their way back to their hotel when he saw me. After getting me off the road, they took me back, cleaned me, and the next morning brought me home to Adventure Bay."
"Some humans, they just are... something I dare not say with women present," Rocky growled.
Tanya chuckled. "I appreciate the concern, but I do share your feelings." She looked at Tomissen, still digging around in a crate, partially inside it. "What's his story?"
"We probably don't want to know," Chase said quickly. Tomissen popped out of the wooden container wearing a bicorne hat, looking like Napoleon turned into a beagle.
"I sense you're talking about me, copper." He adjusted his hat. "Good for you, it's too long and chaotic for me to fully recount it." Chase smiled. "But I can give you the CliffNotes version!" His smile fell off his face, replace with a frown. "Tomissen, the brave and fun beagle, has lived in the care of twenty-two year old Arthur Samson De La Guardia, an awesome human who's definitely not persnickety, unlike a certain pirate I can name." He shot at Sid, who grinned and muttered something. "Anyway, I've moved around a lot, because he is an airlines pilot. We've lived in Honolulu, Mallorca, Rome, D.C., and Las Vegas before coming here."
"Vegas!" Marshall smiled. "How was it?"
The beagle shook his head. "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." Tanya rolled her eyes, Chase smirked, Marshall raised his eyebrows, Arrby looked befuddled, and Busby squeeked.
Rocky grinned mischievously. "So, if the zombie apocalypse happened in Vegas, would it stay contained there?"
"I dunno," Tomissen shrugged, smirking. "One way to find out. Anyway, I didn't go get drunk or make out with chicks, if that's what you're thinking. All I did was accidentally burn down a casino... or two... in the same night. It was that dumb cat's fault," he grumbled.
"Now that's a good story," Sid approved. "Committed arson, ye did!"
"Accidental," Tomissen maintained, raising a paw.
"What about you Captain?" Arrby turned to the Collie, who had returned to the foosball table and was scoring goals from different angles with different players.
"Classified," he deadpanned as he made an angled shot with the goalkeeper, ricocheting the ball off of several figures and the left field wall, landing in the goal with a loud metallic ringing sound.
"Oh, come on, tough guy!" Tanya taunted. "Afraid to do show and tell? I can hold your paw if it will make you feel better." He just continued his lone wolf game.
Chase grinned. "Judging by your accent, you're from Australia."
"Figured that out on your own?" He asked politely, eyes following the ball. Chase wasn't done yet, though.
"You moved in a couple months ago, and you live with a family of four; two parents and two kids, a boy and a girl, the latter being late middle school aged and the former early. You all enjoy being outdoors camping, kayaking, surfing, hunting, and snowboarding. You've been with them for only a year or two, but they love you a lot." Captain froze.
"How... do you know that?" he asked in an astonished yet slightly suspicious voice, tone low and quiet.
Chase shrugged. "I'm a detective; it's what I do. Anyway, I saw the moving van's contents while I was first talking to you on your driveway. There were tons of pictures of you and them, all looking fairly recent. There was also all of the gear for those sports. I noticed the tattoo in your right ear the first time I met you," Heads swivelled to get a look. "So, you were in a military at one point or another, and I think the father of your household was as well. Maybe the UN? There was a plaque bearing a piece of the DMZ wire fence from Korea in a box with uniforms, soldier of the month awards, and other odds and ends. You also had an M16, a C-15 Sniper, and a P226 MK25 among the hunting rifles. Either your owner is retired, or he switched jobs, considering how far from any UN or military installations Adventure Bay is. Now, he is just focussing on raising his family. If I am correct, you're retired as well, though I don't think you were in service for very long." Captain's darkened expression told Chase that he was spot on.
"You're scary sometimes," Rocky said, sounding highly impressed. "You know that, right?"
"Says the pup who has a secret nuclear-bomb-proof bunker in our backyard, hired an insane buccaneer to take us to Barkingburg, and not to mention armed the town crazy with a huge sledgehammer and a jet pack?"
"Yeah!" Tomissen shot Rocky a look. "Why would you give the town cra- oh, wait. You're talking about me, copper!" The beagle glared at the policepup. Everyone, including Sid, began laughing, though Captain's eyes were still stormy.
Arrby wiped mirthful tears from his golden-yellow eyes. "Speaking of Mr. Scary Smart Pup; Rocky, what's-?"
"Pound puppy," Rocky stated.
"Huh?" Everyone asked. Rocky just smiled.
"Ryder and his parents adopted me from the pound, and I joined the Paw Patrol. I really don't remember much before then."
"Boo!" Sid called from the helm. "Ye call that a story? I've heard fish tell tales more entertaining than that."
"Fish stories, huh?" The mongrel smirked. "How would you have told the tale, oh so wise swashbuckling rogue?"
"'Twas a dark an' stormy night! A night of eight, no, nine! Nine typhoons!" Sid bellowed, swinging the wheel to the left and causing everypup and everything to slide to port a little. "A young grey-toned pup sat in his perpetual despair in his dank cell in the vilest of dungeons; the Pound, a listenin' to the howls o' despair from nearby prisoners, the thunderous clap in the heavens, and the sound of the waves breakin' upon them rocks below his barred window!"
"Howls of despair?" Rocky cocked his head bemusedly. "It was the middle of the day, and the sky was clear."
"He shuddered at the horrid cries of those who met their fate with the executioner!"
"Uh, Sid, it was actually a pretty nice place."
"He knew in his bones his time was then, if he ever hoped to escape that accursed slammer! So, when a guard wandered too near, he leapt up an' throttled the livin' daylight outta him, stole the keys, and fled down the halls, fallen foe's cutlass in hand!"
"I have paws," Rocky chuckled.
"A minor detail!" Sid waved him off. "He crossed swords with each son of a biscuit eater that dared stand in his road, cutting them to ribbons with not the slightest shred of mercy." He unsheathed his sword and began waving it in dangerous arcs. "He made his way to the dock when the King's guards began firin' their muskets from atop the crenellated towers, hopin' to leave him riddled in holes. A double decked freighter was a leavin' the port, a stray rope dangling from the foresail. Gripping it an' praying to whatever deity he paid homage, he swung over the briny deep, sailin' a whole twenty feet afore landin' with a roll onto the deck. The ship was owned by none other than the dastardly Ryder the Annoyance, who would have, per a normal circumstance, thrown him to the sharks, but after seeing the bravery the pup displayed, offered him the position on his crew of legal pirates who are always stealing my ill-gotten booty!"
"Has this become a venting session?" Chase muttered to Rocky, who shushed him with a paw and stared enthralled at the pirate.
"An' thus, has Rollicking Rocky, the most feared seafaring recycling seadog, escaped the jaws of death an' defeat to roam the high seas in search of his destiny!" Applause broke out from everyone but Chase, who looked at the others like they had gone mad. Sid turned to them and bowed with a flourish, removing his hat. "An' that's how ye tell a story, maties."
"Wow, Rocky. I never knew you were such a daring, swashbuckling rogue," Tanya said in a mock-dreamy voice, paws clasped beneath her chin. The mixed breed laughed.
"Neither did I!" He shook his head. "My turn's up; who's next?" Marshall was slowly tiptoeing towards the door, Busby silently trailing him. "Marshall, thanks for volunteering!"
His shoulders drooped as he marched back in. "I didn't volunteer, I was voluntold."
"What's the matter, do you have a depressing backstory like Chase or Tanya?" Tomissen queried.
"Nah, I just don't like talking about myself." Marshall sat down. "I was born, twin to my sister Cinder, to two great, loving parents, and we were brought up in the environment of Mom and Dad. They both were firedogs for a large fire station, kinda like I am now for the Paw Patrol, but in a more traditional sense. They couldn't drive, they didn't use pup packs, and they did more of the detective work for finding the cause of the blaze and pulling people to safety. They also pulled guard shifts at the station, helped make firebreaks, and occasionally got to help with the truck hoses. Me and Cinder had a happy childhood together, running around the station with the four other fire house puppies who were from the other couple, getting into mischief, and generally having a good time. My clumsiness was apparent the instant I could walk, and by the time we got in our first spots, I was nicknamed Wrecker by the firefighters. They were a fun bunch of dudes," he chuckled wistfully. "One thing we grew up knowing was that we'd get adopted later in life, whether by another station or a family, because they couldn't keep all of the dogs. We were fine with that fact and, by the time we were of age, we were actually excited. I was adopted before Cinder and taken to another station, but after a little bit they decided I was too much of a hazard and they put me up for adoption by the public. Who should then stumble along but Ryder and his mom one day? The very moment he saw the sign, he dragged his mom inside and met me. Then the fateful question came out." Marshall then made his best little kid impression, drawing out snickers from the others. "'Mom! Can I get him? Pleeaasse?'" He then did his best motherly voice, making Chase and the rest crack up even more. "'Oh, I don't know, Honey. We already have Chase.' 'Please? I'll do anything!' "Well... I'll see about it.'" He grinned before finishing. "Lucky for me, she relented, and I was brought home to Adventure Bay. First five seconds of being at my new place, I smashed into Chase. I thought he was going to be so mad, but he just laughed it off and asked if I wanted to play... and the rest is history."
"Was that so hard?" Tanya asked, smirking.
Marshall shook his head, smiling. "Nah. Like I said, I just don't like talking about myself."
"You talk to Everest about yourself," she pointed out in a snarky tone.
"Yeah," Rocky poked fun at the Dalmatian. "You tell Everest... and Sweetie," he added cheekily.
Marshall's face flushed. "Well... that's different."
Arrby raised a paw like a schoolboy requesting permission to speak. "I have a question. Why aren't the rest of your friends coming to Barkingburg? And why aren't you using your own vehicles? You have a jet and a boat." All of the pups looked at either Captain or Rocky.
"Didn't Rocky tell you why we hired you?" Chase asked, question directed to Sid.
"I don't need to know if I'm gettin' gold!" He laughed jovially. "What ye tell me is yer business an' yer choice." Chase thought for a bit. What harm would there be to let them know?
"We're on our way to rescue our friends and Ryder," Chase informed Arrby and Sid. "They and Sweetie, the royal pup of Barkingburg, have been taken captive by Harold Humdinger. He repla-"
"HUMDINGER?!" Sid Swashbuckle hollered, whipping around to face Chase, dark-red ponytail flying around his head to smack his cheek. His green eyes were aflame with such an intense burning rage and hatred that the German Shepard thought he would attack. "Harold Humdinger has yer friends?!"
"Yes?" Chase answered nervously. He looked at Arrby and saw that the little sausage-dog was, to the very least, annoyed.
"That bilge-sucking, lily-livered, scheming boy an' his fat, scabby sea bass uncle, along with those scurvy-ridden fleabag cats of his, are the cause of me losing me ship an' poor Arrby's home; the Swashbuckle Sloop, an' all me bounteous booty aboard! Them and that accursed dirigible!" Sid pulled his hat off and threw it on the ground as he ranted, growing more animated as he waved his hands, and occasionally his sword, above his head. All of the pups had moved well out of arms reach, just to be safe. "It's because of them Arrby and I have lost everything once, those good for nothing wretches!" He retrieved his hat and placed it on his head. Sheathing his blade, he returned to steering. The outburst had killed the conversation and left a tangible air of animosity floating about. Everyone was silent for a full five minutes.
"So," Sid began in a much more measured tone. "It appears that I sullied the mood, me hearties, by the fact that ye all are hangin' the jib. I didn't mean to let loose me cannonball," the pirate apologized, turning to face the pups with a grin. "How 'bout I fix things, aye? Arrby! Fetch the Jigger!"
The little pirate pup sprang to his paws, an excited glint in his eyes. "Aye-aye, Captain Boss Mr. Sid, sir!" He scurried swiftly out of the room. Chase and Marshall exchanged a look.
'The Jigger?' Marshall mouthed, tilting his head. Chase shrugged, then reverted to gazing at the door when Arrby reentered, claw extended from his pack and carrying a... a thing?
It had a mahogany wooden body and was shaped like a violin, just bigger and without the neck. It had strings and tuning pegs, but that's where the similarities ended. The tuning pegs were situated where the neck should've started, the strings running from them across the length of the thing on a bridge to the top, where they met a small wheel. A crank with a smooth handle was attached to the rounded end, centered on the body where one would put their chin on a violin. The strings went over the wheel, barely touching it, and connected to the crank. Lining the bottom of the bridge were twenty-four small wooden keys, akin to those on a piano. Ornate designs scrawled across the surface.
"What the heck is this marvelous contraption?" Rocky asked, instantly running up to examine it.
Sid laughed. "Matey, if you don't know what a Hurdy-Gurdy is, you haven't lived."
"Hurdy-Gurdy?" Captain looked at the thing, bewildered. "It's some sort of Bitzer made from a violin, a piano, and goodness knows what else, it seems."
"Aye, it be the greatest instrument I ever needed, right after it me electric guitar," the pirate proudly professed. " Come Arrby, give us a jig!"
Holding the handle in his paws and leaning it against his body, Arrby began rotating the crank on the instrument, making it produce a low, droning sound. With the fingers of his pup pack arm, he began pressing the keys, playing a lively tune. Chase listened on in wonderment, staring at the thing that sounded like a cross between a set of bagpipes and a fiddle. Sid began stomping his booted foot and started singing.
Sid: Twenty men were lost at sea, all of them drunk except for me.
'Twas I who had to brave the storm, with nothing inside to keep me warm.
Sid and Arrby: Yo HO Ho ho, over the raging seas we go!
Yo HO Ho ho, wherever the four winds blow! Hey!
"Oh, I know this one!" Tomissen said excitedly.
Tomissen: 'Twas a sloop-o-war I sailed that day, she had two masts to make her way.
A single deck o' eighteen guns, we'd sold for their weight in rum.
Sid, Arrby, Tomissen: Yo HO Ho ho, over the raging seas we go!
Yo HO Ho ho, wherever the four winds blow! Hey!
Arrby: I tacked to the wind with a single jib and cursed the crew for a bunch of squibs.
I'd have lashed myself to the mizzenmast, but the mizzenmast was missin!
A hand on the tiller, another to scull, my butt in the bilges plugging the hull.
It was then that I thought my round was done when the captain- shouted-
Sid: "More Rum!"
Chase didn't know what to think, watching them sing. He was even more unsure and startled when Marshall let out the next verse, bringing about a big grin on Sid's face as he waved for the others to join in.
Marshall: 'Twas around six bells that the wind died down, and lucky it did for we'd all have drowned.
The crew were asleep to the captain's snore, with the rum slopping round on the floor.
Sid, Marshall, Tomissen: Yo HO Ho ho, over the raging seas we go!
Yo HO Ho ho, wherever the four winds blow! Hey!
Arrby: Twenty men still lost at sea, all of them drunk except for me.
But 'twas I who had to brave the storm, with nothing inside to keep me warm.
All (Except Chase): Yo HO Ho ho, over the raging seas we go!
Yo HO Ho ho, wherever the four winds blow! Hey!
Even Busby joined in, letting out a high-pitched Squeak! when the group said "Hey!" Chase wasn't much in the mood to participate but was content to let them finish. Hopefully it wasn't a long song.
Marshall: I tacked to the wind with a single jib and cursed the crew for a bunch of squibs.
I'd have lashed myself to the mizzenmast, but the mizzenmast was missin!
A hand on the tiller, another to scull, my butt in the bilges plugging the hull.
It was then that I thought my round was done when the captain-
Pups: Shouted-
All: "More Rum!"
"Again!" Sid shouted, and Arrby began again, paws turning the instrument's crank. Chase covered his ears and pressed himself on the ground. This was going to be a long trip.
5 Hours Later
Chase sat behind the drums, banging and crashing on them wildly, cymbal ringing. Nearby, Rocky shredded loudly on an electric guitar with his pup pack arm, bobbing and shaking his head and wearing a spare pirate hat. Arrby was still on the Jigger, playing at a fast pace. The instrument blended with the rock sound surprisingly well, as the little Dachshund rotated the handle, periodically reversing direction to jump it forward and back. Captain, wearing a bandana around his head, played on a large keyboard, so similar to Skye's back home that Chase could almost think the pirate had secretly stolen it. Marshall and Tanya stood up front, the former wearing the eyepatch over his right eye now and the latter had on a tricorne hat. Their voices sang out passionately, as they stomped and nodded to the music. Chase was surprised when he found out the Husky was a good vocalist, great even. She had a beautiful, harmonious voice that rivalled Marshall's abilities.
Marshall: I've seen many men wandering, all strong and brave and keen
Seen them growing into rulers, but I long for the sea
Heard a ship came from North to our harbour for a day
And before misfortune knows, I'll be on my way
I'll be on my way
I'll be on my way
Tanya: I'm all set to veer away
And I'm all set to go astray
All burdens I will leave ashore
To find what I've been longing for
I'm all set to veer away
And I'm all set to go astray
All burdens I will leave ashore
To find what I've been longing for
Chase had originally been annoyed by the other pups' revelry, and even more so with Sid, but his dignity dictated he join in once the drums were brought out and Tomissen began attacking them in a rhythmless and incoherent manner. He had taken over to show that beagle a thing or two, and before he knew it, he was wearing a pirate hat and rocking along with the others like there was no mañana. In the back, Sid and Tomissen, still wearing the bicorne hat, danced a lively, jumpy jig, both gripping sloshing mugs filled from the barrel labeled "Rum." Chase, Marshall, and the others had been highly concerned when Sid rolled the barrel in, but it turned out it was only full of fizzy Apple Soda. The pirate had found the empty barrel floating in the ocean and, because he need, need, needed it, took it, cleaned the rust off the metal bands and filled it with his drink of choice.
Marshall: Don't tell anyone that this night I'll be gone
Greeting the eternal blue, right at the break of dawn
Sailing towards the unknown, with my crew on the sea
And the day that I return, a hero I shall be
A hero I shall be
A hero I shall be
Tanya: I'm all set to veer away
And I'm all set to go astray
All burdens I will leave ashore
To find what I've been longing for
I'm all set to veer away
And I'm all set to go astray
All burdens I will leave ashore
To find what I've been longing for
They slowed the pace of the song and dropped the volume until there was silence. Tanya sang quietly.
Tanya: I'm all set to veer away
And I'm all set to go astray!
Chase struck up a quick drum beat as the others started up again.
Tanya: All burdens I will leave ashore
To find what I've been longing for!
I'm all set to veer away
And I'm all set to go astray!
All burdens I will leave ashore
To find what I've been longing for!
All: I'm all set to veer away
And I'm all set to go astray!
All burdens I will leave ashore
To find what I've been longing for!
They held the ending for a bit before letting out loud, happy howls. Sid clapped, laughing mightily.
"Ye be fine maties, ye scurvy-dogs! Ye play a fine tune!"
Marshall chuckled. "We're practiced in this."
"You're a great singer!" Arrby praised, then turned a sheepish eye to Tanya. "You're pretty good too."
"Thanks! You're really incredible with that Hurdy-Gurdy thing," she responded with a wag of her tail. Arrby looked down, pawing the boards with an affected smile. "You know, this is great way to pass the time on this trip."
"Speakin' of our progress on the voyage," Sid began. "We be makin' great time. We'll be a crossin' the canal on the isthmus of Panama by midday, tomorrow! In three days' time, we be arrivin' at Barkingburg, England!"
Everyone let out a cheer, and Rocky strummed a loud chord on his guitar.
When the noise died down, Marshall turned to Chase. "What's an Isthmus?" Chase smirked and shook his head.
A/N: "Wherever the Four Winds Blow" is a song by The Chaunters.
"The Longing" is a song by Storm Seeker.
I own neither of these songs; they are the property of their respective composers and recording groups and etcetera. I slightly modified the lyrics for length purposes. They are fun songs, and if you're interested, I encourage you to listen to them. Take notice, I removed a British Cuss word from the first one, so if you don't want to hear that, I advise you don't listen to it. It's the word that wrecked Marshall's "Puppy-hood innocence" in the previous chapter.
The character Cinder, mentioned within this chapter, is the property of Foxfire69. Used with permission.