A Junkyard Dog General, The Army of Dogs: Part Two
Note from the typist
The following is part two of a three-part story covering the dog army. It will also serve as an end to the Junkyard Dog General stories. From here, the story gets graphic and could be troubling for some.
- Prelude to the Army of Dogs, a Recap of a Junkyard D...
The following is a quick recap covering the events leading up to The Army of Dogs for anyone lucky enough to have not read the earlier stories or just wants the dots connected before the end. Some of the information mentioned here is from My Private
- A Junkyard Dog General, The Army of Dogs, Part One
Part one of three, Rex builds his army to try and stop a massive wave of deer
Part Two, The Battle of Rome
The Chihuahua army lined up into as close to a square as possible spread evenly apart. In the time between them leaving the farm and this point, they had their numbers grow from sixty-seven to three-hundred and twelve. The core members of the army mixed with the new members instructing them on how to stand and pay attention. Twenty-Three stood in front with another dog at his side. He barked, and the army shifted to the right in a wave. Some talking happened in the ranks. Another bark and the army changed back this time, almost in unison. Rex watched as the army went through drills from turning to lying down to help promote Twenty-Three’s core directive of fighting as one. He based this on how the squirrels would swarm over large opponents. Julie joined him, and together they saw something almost magical and more than a little scary.
Rosie acted as a stand-in for a deer to help the new members of the army learn how to take down a deer. Headbutting would take the place of biting. Fifty-Two and seven other Chihuahuas surrounded her growling as the rest watched. For her part, Rosie did her best to act like a cornered deer thrashing and stomping. Fourteen told the army to watch for signs and the right time to attack. Rosie brought her front legs down hard, slightly going unbalanced, giving the dogs their window to attack. In unison, four dogs struck her upper and lower limbs at where the tendons were while two more head-butted her stomach in a gutting motion. A seventh dog bit her on the butt. Rosie yelped and spun around to face the dog, but he had a hold of her and turned with her.
He let go and said, “sorry, Rosie, you just look so good.”
Rosie started to put her paw about three feet above the small dog to deliver her line when she saw the look in his eyes.
She lowered her paw to his back and whispered, “you have to be this tall or taller to ride this ride.”
Watching the melee, Twenty-Three said, “I think we can lower the number of dogs needed to take down a deer by breaking the attack up. Take out the legs then the guts rather than all at once. Four dogs to a deer.”
Rex asked, “how did One have you attack?”
Twenty-Three said how One or as they called her back then mother would charge, allowing their numbers to overwhelm the deer.
He said, “We came upon about forty deer. Mother ordered us to attack, and we just charged, but the deer were ready. They defended against us in unison, stomping down as we went at them.”
Rex asked, “and Mother didn’t do anything?”
Twenty-Three turned his head away from the army.
He said, “she was one of the first to fall……. She would never stand by or lead from behind. She fell, then Three and Two. When Mother died, the others went nuts, and for a while, it looked like it was all over.”
Fourteen said, “that’s when Twenty-Three ordered us to retreat. He yelled to shift to the left, causing the deer to break form, giving the army the time to escape. That was the day he became our leader.”
Drie came running over panting from the run.
He said, “deer…… coming from the west heading east……. we…...turned…them……north.”
The Number Brothers, along with the other Doberman, went west to find the herd and using a mix of barking, and other tactics force the deer north to a place near the Ohio River. The river would provide a barrier giving the dogs an advantage. Anything to make the deer tactics break.
Rex said, “We still have about a half a day before we get to where we want.”
Twenty-Three stood up.
Julie asked, “so, do we go?”
Rex didn’t answer her. He nodded to Twenty-Three, who nodded back.
Julie said, “I have an idea.”
You do what with those Claws
The hanger doors opened, and a tractor came out with Julie behind the wheel. The tractor was pulling three connected oversized hay wagons. She told them while she didn’t have any time behind the wheel of a car, she had plenty of time on a tractor. Rosie jumped up behind Julie on the back of the tractor. The quicker dogs would run ahead, looking for trouble while the army rode in the wagons. Three hundred-plus dogs packed tight in a slow-moving wagon. Rex knew he would rather run than ride. It took about an hour, but soon any dog that was going by wagon was loaded, and the caravan was on its way. About an hour into the trip, someone asked for the first time, “are we there yet?”
As they moved north, the clouds rolled in, taking the sky from partly cloudy to overcast with a threat of rain. They passed a few freshly plowed fields. Someone was still alive and taking care of the land. Julie remembered her dream. The river was active with debris floating down and a bank that seemed higher than it should be. They turned the corner, and together they saw the sight of where the battle would happen. Julie recognized it from her dream. All that was missing was the blood and bodies. Julie had her father’s revolver, but she didn’t want to use it, fearing she could hit one of the dogs. She had a machete and a kukri. Her father made them both, and they brought her comfort. Hans, Drie, and Zwei said they would stay with her and make sure she would be safe.
Julie said, “safety’s for cowards, I got my f##king claws out, and I’m ready to rip it up. Let’s go kill some deer.”
Hans asked, “you do what with those claws?”
A deer ran around the corner, passed a couple of wagons turned on their sides and a tractor. Behind the deer were a herd so large it was almost impossible to see the end. Ten thousand deer ran for their lives. They ran as if something was chasing them, something their most basic instincts of flight could override their new intelligence. The deer bucked and jumped, trying to get past the deer in the lead. In their wake were the bodies of fallen deer. The overturned wagons and tractor forced the deer into a field next to the river. The deer came to a stop at the sight of a young girl standing on the other side of the field, holding two long blades — one against ten thousand. Hidden in the dirt around Julie were the Dobermans and behind them the other big dogs.
The deer spread out from the river to the side of the blocked road filling the field. Rex looked over the herd counting the robotic deer. Above all else, they had to kill the robotic deer. Kill them and any real deer with the clone deer born to break down. In the middle of the herd was one deer larger than the others. Twice as big as any other deer with metal antlers and glowing red eyes. The alpha deer. A roaring sound came from the west. Rex knew the sound, a bear. The deer turned facing the new sound, bashing into each other, jumping around looking for a way out. A lone deer charged Julie. Rex got up on top of a wagon on its side.
He yelled, “attack!”
The number Brothers came out of the dirt, taking the charging deer down. The larger dogs formed a line. The Fifty Chihuahua Army, along with four-hundred other dogs, struck from behind as the deer whirled around facing the dogs and the sounds of a bear. They smashed into each other as the robotic deer tried to reform their lines. The deer surged forward, colliding into the dogs into the front of the line. Rex saw more than a few of the larger dogs go down as the deer fought their way to Julie. He could either go after the girl or the alpha robot deer in the center. He saw Julie with her blades out and covered in blood swinging around striking deer as the brothers struck any deer that came at her from her sides. Somewhere in all the carnage and mess, he could hear Ari yelling, “for art!”
The Junkyard General
Rex jumped from the wagon to the back of a deer going from deer to deer in a race to the alpha deer clawing and gashing along the way, trying to stay on top and moving. All around him, he heard deer and dogs fighting and dying along with the sounds of teeth on metal. The alpha deer turned and saw him coming. It struck forward, pushing the deer in front away, smashing and killing any deer within its reach, making no place for Rex to go at him from above. The deer screamed as they tried to get away from the alpha. Rex turned to the left, finding a deer facing the alpha, and jumping onto its head launched himself into the air striking the alpha in the upper back near the head.
His weight and the force of the blow knocked the alpha sideways and nearly to the ground. Rex took hold of its neck from behind and bit down. He felt the cold metal than the white-hot heat he had felt way back when he helped a young boy get away from another metal deer. Sparks flew from the deer as it spun around, trying to get away from Rex. As it turned, Rex felt himself lift off the deer’s back. He came back down, hitting the earth with a chunk of the alpha’s fake flesh in his mouth. The alpha raised his head in a triumph letting out a scream that was in no way natural and struck down at Rex. A white bold of fur came in striking the alpha in the head, forcing it away from Rex. The alpha hit the ground near him.
The white German shepherd said, “now, strike now.”
Rex saw the alpha’s head dislocated, showing wires. He looked over at Julie as a bear loomed over her seemingly about to strike. Rex jumped up and bit down on the exposed wires.
- A Junkyard General, Part Eight: The Fifty Chihuahua ...
Rex and the others meet a mythical pack of feral chihuahuas living in the Appalachian mountains.
- A Junkyard Dog General, Part Nine: Defended the Farm
The dogs settle in on the Smyth farm and plan their next move. A member of the pack steps away from their quest.
© 2019 Michael Collins aka Lakemoron