Having missed his chance of escape, Dodger spent the next hours lying in his cramped cage; occasionally he'd engage in conversation with the dogs around him… Scrap, Francis, Scout, but for the most part he just lay there with his thoughts. The day had been punctuated by the removal of one of the dogs, a young bull terrier bitch, from the basement. Immediately, the small, dark room had erupted into deafening barking as inmates barked and hollered out their fury and fear for the poor bitch. None of the dogs were naïve enough to assume that she'd survive to come back. The dog in the cage next to the unfortunate bitch, protested the loudest, screaming and crying long after the door had once again been closed. The distressed dog, Scrap had told Dodger, was the bull terrier's mate, and the two had been captured together. The screams sent an unwelcome shiver down Dodger's spine. How would he cope in that situation- knowing that someone he cared about was soon to be brutally killed? He tried not to think of Francis, not to let it get to him… he had to hold himself together if he was going to get them through this.
Finally, the basement was quiet again, save for the prolonged sobbing of the bull terrier's mate.
"Dodger," said Francis, "Do you imagine Fagin is missing us? I've never been apart from him like this, I sincerely hope he won't feel I'm choosing to let him down."
Dodger looked up, wishing he could be nearer to his friend, to reassuringly lie against him with just a small amount of wire between them. Francis really was a different dog these days; devoted to Fagin and surprisingly resilient, keeping it together even in such a frightening situation. Dodger was proud, but then even more ashamed that he'd let his friend get captured. He'd come so far… it would be tragic for Francis to lose his life to some savage after he'd only just turned his life around. Dodger felt an aching affection for the pompous dog, and it weighed heavy on him as their predicament hit home harder with every minute he listened to the grieving dog's cries. "He'll be missing ya, Francis," Dodger said, "probably worried by now. Fagin knows you're his dog, he won't think you've just run."
"Suddenly the old place doesn't look quite so bad," Francis chuckled, trying to remain upbeat even though he was scared and shaken by the image of the bull terrier being dragged to her fate. "Who'd have thought I'd long for our run-down abode? It seems I really am part of your gang."
"'Course you are. We're brothers now."
"I can't tell you what comfort those words are, here in this dreadful place," said Francis, "Were you not here, I fear I would lose my mind."
Another uncomfortable, miserable night dragged by, and then, the door finally opened once more. Breakfast time. Dodger readied himself. The human that entered was different to last time; this would be in the young dog's favour as this one wouldn't know that he'd made an escape attempt before. Even with the din made by the other in-mates crashing around him, Dodger was focused and calm. The human, on the other hand, seemed distracted and tired, hardly paying any attention to what he was doing. The cage door opened, and Dodger made his move. Before the man knew what was happening, the mutt was out, using the human's bent back as a launch pad to jump from and soon tearing across the room, up the stairs, as fast as his legs could carry him.
The basement erupted in noise- dogs barking their support to the escape artist, the human scrambling to fix his mistake. Adrenaline pumping through him, Dodger couldn't look back, not even for Francis, he just ran, taking advantage of the open basement door while he still could. As he ran up through the filthy house, he could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Dodger knew he'd need to be alert; for all he knew, the fighting dogs could be anywhere. Desperately, he tried to catch a whiff of fresh air… something to guide him to an open door or window, and safety. His nose led him upstairs to a bedroom, its window hanging open. Peering down to the yard below, he caught a glimpse of the brutes, all pacing back and forth in mesh runs. With a jolt, Dodger saw what they were all fixated on- the bull terrier. The bitch was tied up, trembling, seemingly placed there to act as a tease to the fighters before they were allowed at her. Feeling physically ill as her cries reached him, Dodger knew he'd have to come back, not just for Francis, but to try and get as many dogs out of that basement as he could. With the sounds of the human stomping up the stairs after him, there was no time, he just had to get himself out- and fast. He leapt out onto the porch, and then over the fence, ignoring the frenzied barking of the fighting dogs who were livid with his intrusion. Once clear of the fence and that hellish place, Dodger ran, giving no thought to where he might be going just as long as it was a safe distance from where he'd come from. He was out.
For a good while, Dodger wasn't completely certain where he was, the dirty streets unfamiliar to him. The journey in the van hadn't taken too long though, so he was confident that he wouldn't be far from somewhere he'd recognise. Initially, the thrill of being able to walk and run at all, to feel the sun on his back and to have control over his own life again seemed to lift him, filling him with relief and pushing him onwards. Gradually though, the desire to get home so he could sort the mess out for good became stronger, and he became more focused to the task at hand. After walking on for what felt like forever, he realised that he was in the Bronx. With a little more idea of the direction he'd need to take, he ran out to catch a ride with passing traffic. When in a hurry, car-surfing sure came in handy. The further he got from the dog fighters' lair, the more a guilt gnawed at Dodger's heart. It felt wrong, something akin to cowardice to just run away. What must Francis be feeling now- the only person he felt he could rely on, gone? Dodger had to continually remind himself that he wasn't turning his back on Francis or any of the others; he'd return with help as soon as he possibly could. Focussing hard to make sure he'd later remember the path taken, the exhausted young mutt finally neared the old barge.
The salty air felt comforting against Dodger's face, a reassuring sign that he was home. How could he have seriously considered leaving this place? His heart beat faster at the thought of seeing his friends again; it hadn't been long, but he'd missed them more than he could say. With them by his side, he'd have all he needed to pull off the daunting and gutsy rescue mission; full of himself though Dodger might have been, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance on his own. To his disappointment but not surprise, the barge was empty. The young dog groaned heavily and collapsed to the ground. The adrenaline that had gotten this far had worn off and he knew only exhaustion and a constant, nagging fear. With nothing else for it, he sat in wait, hoping desperately that his trusted friends would soon be back and they could face Francis' captors together.
Dodger paced restlessly back and forth, getting near frantic as he realised how long he'd been away from Francis. To the bulldog, it must have looked like Dodger had simply deserted him. The thought only strengthened his resolve to get back there, but he was unable to act until he had allies with him, and unable to go actively searching for them when they could return home any time. The frustration was driving the young dog crazy, and every now and then he'd kick out in anger. As the hours passed, his mind went into overdrive, working out the way forward. He had a lot on his side- Einstein was large and strong enough to break doors down, Tito was fearless and with a gift for electronics- perhaps he could take out the dog snatcher's van?- and Rita was cunning, fast and tough. Dodger planned it all out in his head, and slowly a calm fell over him. He knew what to do, and he knew they could do it.
Looking down to the old barge, Dodger felt… different. To be there didn't bring back the sting of memories of his mother, but something else. A feeling of home, belonging. His mother was a rotten piece of work all right, but Dodger made up his mind with a new and ringing clarity, that he would not let her take this from him. This was his home, his family, his gang; and he was their leader.
"Dodger! Where've ya been all this time?"
Dodger's head shot up, and he saw Tito running fast towards him. He couldn't remember ever being so pleased to see anyone.
"Hey, where's Frankie? He's with you, right?" the little dog yapped.
"He's in trouble, but we're getting him out," Dodger said. He looked beyond the Chihuahua, and his heart skipped when he saw Rita and Einstein coming over too. Finally, finally he'd be able to go back for Francis. "All those dogs going missing, it's dog fighters. We've gotta get Francis now or they'll make a bait dog outta him."
"He what?" Tito hollered, "Let's go, let's go! We're gettin' Frankie out, and I'll take down anyone who gets in our way!"
Rita ran up to them, the look of relief on her face falling away as she realised that Francis wasn't there. "Dodge?"
"What's the matter?" asked Einstein, "Isn't Frankie here?"
"I'll explain what's happenin' on the way, but we need to get goin'," Dodger said, trying to calmly usher them into action. "We got taken, Francis and me- I couldn't get him out, not on my own."
Uncertainty flickered in Rita's eyes, not knowing what they'd be running into, but she followed after Dodger without hesitation. Whatever the danger, she trusted him to get them through it. Rita trotted alongside Dodger, keeping pace and trying to ascertain whether he'd been hurt. He looked a little tired perhaps, but he was bright eyed and apparently uninjured, just eager to get back to Francis. It was hard to be apprehensive when running so close to Dodger, and after two days apart from him, just his presence gave Rita courage. With Tito constantly trying to dart ahead and Einstein plodding along just behind, they formed a united front.
"So, what happened?" Rita asked, following Dodger up onto a taxi.
"Dog fighters, man!" Tito shouted from in front, "They're gonna use Frankie as practice- so we're getting there first to teach 'em a lesson."
Rita's blood ran cold. Dog fighters… humans who'd turn dogs into trained killers for their own entertainment. Would they find themselves attacked by the monsters themselves? And that stupid Chihuahua would run right in with no thought!
"You're not teachin' no one nothing," Rita snapped, "What are we gonna do, Dodge?"
Waiting until he wasn't jumping around so much, Dodger replied himself. "The bait dogs are being kept down in a basement, that's where they've got Francis. We're not just runnin' in there, I've got it all worked out. The fight dogs are in the yard, penned or chained- if we play it right, we won't have to take 'em on at all." He set down on the concrete, with Rita close to his side, and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, we've got this."
Rita trotted nearer to him, so that his fur brushed against hers as they ran on. That Dodger had managed to get himself free really was something, and she was enormously thankful that he had. She didn't expect that Dodger realised just how scared she'd been for him, for him and Francis. In all honesty, Rita was scared now- and as far as she was concerned, only an idiot wouldn't be, but she was focused, knowing that she'd soon need to rely on everything she'd learned in her first year. If they could just stay out of the way of the fighting dogs, they'd hopefully have a good chance at bringing Francis to safety- or so Rita figured from the vague information Dodger had given them. "How far is it, Dodge?" she asked.
Dodger frowned, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "This looks familiar, we should get there before dark. With the fighters in the yard, we can get 'em barking, make a distraction- it'll be easier if we're there before sundown."
"What will I do, Dodger, man?" Tito asked, turning around and running sideways.
"Electronics," said Dodger, "They've got a van out front, it's what they use to take dogs off the streets- best you put it out of action for a while."
Tito's eyes shone with excitement. "All right, man!" he exclaimed, dancing about.
Rita exchanged a knowing glance with Dodger- it seemed to her a wise move to keep Tito as far away from the fighting dogs as possible, they were likely not to have mercy in the face of an overconfident and foolish youngster like him.
The sun had almost slipped beyond the horizon, but the dogs finally arrived in front of the old house. A familiar and spine-tingling smell came back to Dodger, confirming without a doubt that they were in the right place. From within, the faint sounds of frantic barking and crying came drifting towards them.
"Oh, Frankie…" Rita sighed. Everything about this place have her a bad feeling deep in her bones. The sooner they got Francis to safety, the better.
"I don't like this place," said Einstein, his ears pinned back and his tail tucked up to his belly. "Is Frankie really in there?"
In contrast to his companions, Tito was bristling for a fight, his eyes bright as he anticipated the action about to commence. "Let's go, let's go! What are we waiting for, man?"
Dodger stepped in front of the others. "All right, here we go. We're gonna need to get those creeps away from the van so you can break in and put it out of action. Rita, you come round the back with me, get the fighters all riled up. Tito,"
Rita nodded.
"Tito, Einstein," Dodger continued, "once you hear it heat up outside, you get into the van. An alarm will probably go off, and bring humans back your way. The more chaos and confusion, the better. Just make sure you get outta there pronto. If you can run in the front door after the human, do it, otherwise just take it down. You've got the muscle for that, right, Einstein?"
Einstein thumped his tail on the ground. He was a little nervous, but glad to have a job to do and eager to see Francis again. More than anything, he trusted Dodger, and was proud to be by his side.
"And once we're in?" asked Rita.
Dodger smiled and shook his head. "Once we're in, we get down to the basement. Einy can break a few doors down if we need it. Rit, maybe try and stay in the yard as long as you can, see if you can keep the man busy while we go down- but if one of the fighters is let loose, get yourself outta there. We'll let out as many dogs from the basement as possible and then… then we've just got to hope the confusion will be enough that we can all get out of there."
If Rita, Einstein and Tito were daunted, they didn't show it in their faces. The looked to Dodger, each poised to get going. As he met the eyes of each of his unflinching allies, the betrayal of his mother couldn't have been further from the young dog's mind. He had something much bigger.
"You guys ready?" Dodger asked, and his question was met with confident barks and howls. "Okay, troops- let's do this!"