Over the next two weeks, Marshall gradually integrated himself into the lives of Kayla, her family, and her friends. He was grateful that to have a group of new owners eagerly take in, but he was also slightly uncomfortable over "disrupting" their usual routine. Miss Natalie only reassured him, however, that even a slight speed bump in the schedule was always welcome to prevent the days from becoming too monotonous.
It took a while for both Karen and Lucy to get accustomed to having a talking dog in their everyday lives, but they eventually accepted him as a prominent part of it regardless. Being Lucy, though, she would cover up her concern for the Dalmatian with moments of sarcasm and dry wit, and he knew when to push it and not push it.
A few days before the festival, Sheriff Nelson gave the family a call and warned them that Garrett and his friends would be walking away scot-free due to his father. That meant that attending the festival and keeping guard on his new owners only garnered a fair amount of difficulty.
The day of the Thanksgiving festival arrived, and with it came the day of Sheriff Nelson's daughter's birthday. Many a citizen showed up at the big event, including his daughter's friends and their families.
"Daddy!" Sheriff Nelson's daughter ran up to hug her father, "You made it!"
"I couldn't miss your big day this time, Victoria," Sheriff Nelson himself chuckled and returned the hug, "Especially when I have a surprise for you this year."
"Is it true?" Victoria briefly pulled away from her father, "An actual member of the PAW Patrol is here?"
"Oh, look. Your daughter is smarter than she looks," Lucy muttered, causing Karen to "lightly" elbow her as she knelt down to her level.
"Yes, Victoria. A member of the PAW Patrol is here for your birthday party. He's just patrolling the area first to make sure everything is fine and everyone is safe."
As Victoria practically jumped up and down with excitement while her friends tried to calm her, Marshall was on the other side of the fairgrounds watching the festivities unfold. He had told Kayla and the family that he would go on ahead and patrol the area for undesirable mayhem, but he feared that he would be the cause instead. The newly released Garrett and his friends were a likely candidate, but even he knew that he could not be as clumsy as he himself was.
Adding to his paranoia was the faint familiarity of the fairgrounds and its festivities. The ongoing activities bore an eerily resemblance to—
"Oof!"
Marshall was so entangled in his web of thought that he failed to mind his surroundings, smacking right into the behind of a fellow citizen.
"Hey! Watch where you're...going..."
"Sorry about that! I was just..."
Aside from a light gasp, Marshall felt himself unable to talk any further.
His eyes widened.
His breath hitched.
His heart pounded.
Marshall was face-to-face with quite possibly the beautiful girl he had ever seen up until that very point.
The dog before him was a golden-furred Dashschund with dark brown spots sprinkled on her body; long, brown fluffy hair; and a light brown muzzle, paws, and a light shade of brown around her eyes. She also had brown eyes, brown eyebrows, and a big, dark brown nose.
Wow...
She's so pretty...
The Dachshund before him gasped as well, but for an ultimately different reason.
"Oh my gosh! It's really you!"
"It's really me...?"
Suddenly, the Dachshund leaped and tackled him, much to his understandable surprise as he yelped while the both of them rolled into a nearby tent. The next thing Marshall knew, her big brown eyes were staring into his big blue ones as her subsequent smile shone bright like a diamond. Complicating matters was the fact that she was basically on top of him, pinning him down to the ground.
"It's you! It's you, it's you, it's you!" The Dachshund repeated, much to Marshall's confusion and concern.
"Yeah, it's me," The Dalmatian nonetheless repeated back, "Do we...know each other?"
"Nope, but I know you!"
His eyes widening again for another reason, Marshall was now terrified.
"Uh...come again?"
The Dachshund calmed down for a brief moment when she caught to the implications of her response before she panicked and attempted to assuage his fears.
"Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no! I didn't mean it like that! I meant like..where I'm from, I see a lot of you on TV."
"Oh!" Marshall nodded in understanding, "Oh, okay. Well...a big fan, I guess?"
"Uh-huh!" Liberty nodded back.
Marshall glanced up and down, fighting back a pink blush on his face, "Well, I'd be happy to answer your questions...if you could get off me first...please?"
Noticing the Dalmatian's hesitation, the Dachshund began to grow aware of her position in the situation and softly squeaked. If she did blush, Marshall could not tell through her brown fur. In any case, the Dachshund scrambled to get off him and stammered out a response.
"S-Sorry. I was just...really excited."
"I could tell," Marshall chuckled, "So...what brings you to the Thanksgiving festival?"
"Well, I don't want to cause any further alarm," The Dachshund admitted, "But you. You brought me here?"
"Okay...?" Marshall raised an eyebrow, prompting the Dachshund meant to clarify.
"I meant...news tend to travel fast, and I heard through a person who heard another person who heard another person who heard another person's friend who heard that friend's friend that a member of the famous PAW Patrol would be showing in this town's Thanksgiving festival."
. . .
. . .
. . .
"Sorry, was that confusing?"
"Um, no," Marshall shook his head, "Nope. Perfectly not confusing. But I take it you do have a lot of questions to ask?"
"I do, actually," The Dachshund nodded, "What's the PAW Patrol like? Do you guys have tricked-out vehicles? Is the PAW Patrol headquarters funded by your neverending supply of popular merchandise? Do you guys answer your own calls? What are you doing here? What brought you over here?"
Overwhelmed by the number of questions asked (and slightly uncomfortable with the last two), Marshall took a deep breath before answering them in succession.
"Well, the PAW Patrol is amazing! We get to save a lot of people and have fun while we do so. Honestly, I'm not sure how the Lookout is funded, and I didn't know we had popular merchandising in the first place. And yes, I'm pretty sure we answer our own calls. As for the last two questions..."
Marshall hesitated to answer said last two questions, which the Dachshund noticed and caused her smile to fall.
"I'm... I'm sorry. Did I touch upon a touchy subject?"
"Yeah..." Marshall nodded, "but it's not your fault. It's just...the PAW Patrol and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now."
"What? Why not?"
"I..."
Before Marshall could answer, he spotted a familiar-looking young man outside the tent. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin; he wore a pitch-black winter coat above a light blue-and-whte suit and black dress shoes.
"Hold that thought."
Marshall walked past the Dachshund, who carefully followed the Dalmatian as he continued to carefully observe the man from inside the tent. Her heart, along with his own, began pounding when they took a closer look at what was attached to the waistband of his pants: a holstered SIG-Sauer P229R pistol. They watched as the man carefully drew the pistol from his holster and checked its chamber before holstering it back before gesturing to another person out of view from them.
Brad, Jessica, and Tessa followed him, each of them carrying pistols of their own. Brad had a Glock 17, Jessica had a plain M1911A1, and Tessa had a Walther PPK. All of them wore scowls of anger, and Marshall had a good idea of where that emotion originated...and how they were going to vent those frustrations.
"Are those the bad guys?" The Dachshund whispered in his ear the moment they were out of sight, Marshall momentarily forgetting that she was there.
"Yeah. I have to stop them."
"Don't you mean we have to stop them?"
"What?" Marshall turned to face her with an incredulous look on his face, "Look, I know we just met, and I know that you're a big fan, but this is the kind of job that's all sorts of dangerous! In fact, we never had to deal with situations like this! You could get hurt!"
"No, I won't!"
"How do you know?"
"I...I just do. Second, there were four of them, right? Well, there's only one of you at the moment. You need all the help you can get, right?"
Marshall hesitated again as he turned back in the direction Garrett and his group headed. He did not like the predicament he found himself in, but he had to agree that she had a slight point. Even though she was an untrained citizen, no one else besides her knew about Garrett and his group at the moment and she was willing to put herself in the line of fire if it meant keeping other citizens out of harm's way.
His attention now drawn to a conveniently located rack of dog-sized costumes meant for the other pets in attendance, Marshall took a deep breath and turned to face the Dashschund again.
"Do you promise to keep your distance from them and stay with me unless I tell you otherwise?"
"I promise," The Dachshund nodded.
"Okay then. If you're going to perform a mission, you'll probably need a uniform..."
As the rest of the group sang "Happy Birthday" to Victoria, Kayla was growing more and more anxious with eaching minute, a sentiment shared by James and Natalie. Neither of them, along with Sheriff Nelson, had been able to contact Marshall or find them within the fairgrounds. Also, with the given news that Garrett and his friends had been bailed out of prison a mere week ago, they had strong suspicions that he may have kidnapped their newfound Dalmatian friend.
"Kayla?"
Kayla herself looked up from her phone and thoughts as she turned to find a group of familiar faces filling up worn-out spaces. Standing before her were her former friends.
"Hey," Kayla feigned nonchalance as Hannah approached her first. Even so, she noticed the hesitation glinting in her eyes, as if she knew something that she did not. The same hesitation was reflected in the eyes of her former friends, causing the already bad feeling growing in the pit of her stomach to intensify.
It was a bad suspicion just waiting to be confirmed.
Leading her friends outside and away from the party, Kayla crossed her arms in contempt.
"What's the matter, Stark? Are you that afraid to mock me in front of my friends and family?"
Hannah was regretting the words that were formulating in her head and fixing to exit her mouth, but she would not budge or leave the premises without her friend.
"They're not your real friends. They're not your real family."
"They're damn close," Kayla glared at her former friend, causing Annie to step in-between her and Hannah, shooting a glare at the latter as well before turning to face the former.
"Kayla, your parents are getting worried. They wouldn't stop looking for you for the past five years. They...wanted to let you know they're sorry as much as we are. They're really the sorry."
"If they're really sorry, then they should've came here themselves," Kayla retorted before circling back to the hesitation formerly glinting in Hannah's eyes, "So what's the plan, huh? You're going to drag me back to that shitshow of a city...or you're going to prank me as your version of a last laugh? Or better yet, you're going to have someone blow my brains out in front of a group of witnesses...or you're actually strong enough to do it yourself?"
"Jesus Christ, Kayla," Hannah shot her a disgusted look now, "Are you even listening to yourself? We'd never stoop that low!"
"Imagine that."
"AAH!"
"Hey!"
Suddenly, a commotion commenced in the tent, causing Kayla to rush back inside followed by the others. Screeching to a stop, she found Garrett, Jessica, Tessa, and Brad engaged in a standoff with Nelson, Karen, and the police officers with them. James, Natalie, Jack, and Lucy were ducked behind a table shielding Cassie, Victoria, and her friends. Victoria had red eyes as Lucy rubbed her cheek, a visible and equally red handprint forming on it.
Along with Kayla, the rest of her former friends was horrified.
"Hey!" Angela stomped forward, causing Brad and Tessa to aim their guns at her, "What the hell did you just do? That wasn't part of the plan!"
Her suspicions now confirmed in the worst way possible, Kayla pointedly shot a death glare at Hannah, who bit her lip in regret.
"So much for stooping that low, huh?"
"I swear," Hannah breathed out, "Kayla, I swear I told him not to—"
"You didn't tell me shit, Stark," Garrett huffed as he aimed at Sheriff Nelson, "You told me to make Kayla pay, not to make Kayla pay and keep civilians out of the crossfire."
"Maybe next time, be a little specific with your instructions?" Jessica sported a nasty grin as she looked at Karen, "Oh, wait. There won't be a next time."
"I'll betting on it," Amber cracked her knuckles, "Because I'm plan on beating your ass six ways to Sunday next time."
"You won't be doing shit," Brad turned to aim at Amber now as Annie shielded her, "You wanna know why?"
"Because the police officers here now know that you got your former friend—an unarmed, untrained civilian—killed with malicious intent," Tessa tilted her head as she held her Walther, "Plus, in case you weren't paying attention, we have the guns and you girls don't."
"Unlucky collateral damage," Jessica chuckled.
At that moment, Kayla noticed movement from up above. Who else it be but Marshall, who was carefully crawling across the wooden posts that held the tent up.
"And the best part," Brad smirked, "Your little talking dog won't be around to save you."
Having missed out on a lot of important context, Kayla's former friends were understandably confused when Brad nonchalantly noted the absence of a little talking dog.
Not that Kayla herself minded much. Knowing fully aware that Garrett had tempted fate, she simply crossed her arms as she simply shot a smug smirk at him.
"Are you sure about that?"
His own smug smirk falling, one glance upward was enough to throw Garrett off his game.
"Arf-arf!"
Landing a kick on Garrett's face, Marshall landed on his feet and faced the four young adults, making sure that his back was facing the exit.
"Marshall!" Victoria happily exclaimed from behind the table as James, Natalie, Jack, Lucy, and the others peered from behind the table. Noticing the girl's red and swollen cheek, Marshall deduced that Garrett was responsible and elicited a growl of pure fury.
"I'm here now, Garrett! You wanna shoot somebody? Shoot me!"
Kayla's group and the police officers were now extremely horrified. Because she knew now that Marshall was a young child, Kayla was terrified at the prospect of the young Dalmatian sacrificing himself to protect another young child.
Aiming his gun at the Dalmatian, Garrett had the upper hand but he hesitated to pull the trigger. Not because of a moral dilemma, but of the possibility of attracting more police officers than he should. As such, one wrong move could have a domino effect.
Of course, Garrett's friends did not have the concurring cunning or common sense.
"Fair enough," Brad turned his Glock on Marshall.
"With pleasure," Tessa cocked the hammer of her PPK.
"No, wait!" Garrett attempted to stop them both, but it was too late.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Marshall sprinted out of the tent as fast as he could before he could get hit by the gunfire, which echoed through the fairgrounds and causing the festivities to grind to a complete halt.
"Run! Run!" Marshall cried out, "Get out of here!"
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
More gunshots rang out, causing panic amongst the citizens as they scrambled for cover. Clearing a path for the four of them to follow without endangering anyone else, Marshall spotted a house of mirrors not far from where he was.
"Hey! Over here!"
Pinpointing his voice, Brad and Tessa opened fire as the Dalmatian ran inside.
"That dog's not gonna last even a second inside," Brad smirked as he reloaded his Glock.
"You said it, Brad," Tessa laughed as she mimicked his actions with her Walther.
"Idiots," Garrett muttered to himself, "I'm surrounded by idiots."
"Hey, we're this close, aren't we?" Jessica countered as she cleared out a stovepipe jam from her M1911A1, "And for your information, Kayla knows that her friends don't trust her for shit anymore."
"That's not the point," Garrett reloaded his P229R before spotting a trio of police cruisers nearby. Marching over to the nearest one, he shot open a window to unlock the door and rummage the car for any more weapons. Eventually, he found a Remington 870 with a standard magazine tube and wooden furniture on the mounted rack, practically ripping it off and grabbing spare shotgun shells that were scattered around.
Chambering the now loaded Remington, Garrett marched back towards the house of mirrors and entered inside, the others following behind.
