Tom Schreck: Out Cold

The bar went quiet, except for the two Jerry's and TC, who whispered and snickered.

"What's up fellas?" I said.

"Uh, Duffy, I don't think transportation will be an issue," Jerry Number One said and the other two giggled. On cue, while everyone tried to figure out what was going on, AJ's front door opened. Rocco came in wearing old army fatigues.

"Sorry, I'm late, Duff," Rocco said. "What's the problem?"

"Getting through the gate and getting all the dogs out," I said.

"That won't be a problem," Rocco went back out the door.

"Excuse me everybody," I followed Rocco. There, at the curb, parked in front of AJ's sat The Deuce. Totally restored, tuned up, and humming like an engineering work of art.

"No, Rocco, not The Deuce, I can't. It's your pride and joy, man."

Rocco smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. "You know this friend of yours, Karl?" Rocco looked me in the eye. I nodded.

"You know I did time in the service. I don't talk about it much, but this PTSD shit they talk about now didn't start in Vietnam. Some shit happened to me in Korea I don't like thinking about. It wasn't nice. So if I can maybe do something to help someone else make sense of that shit, maybe it will help me make sense of some old built-up shit in my life."

"But Rocco, the Deuce? Your dream?"

"Well, Duff, I got to thinkin'. Maybe she wasn't built to look pretty. Maybe she got built for a mission. Maybe for a mission exactly like this."

The big horn sounded. I looked up to see Karl behind the wheel, Al next to him. Al bayed along with the horn. I guess it was time to go.

Tom Schreck

Out Cold: Round Three of the Duffy Dombrowski Mysteries

AJ's Army filed out and climbed in the back of the Deuce. Rocco drove, Karl went shotgun and Al sat between them. I stepped to the back with the troops.

The night had a chill and riding 55 miles an hour added to the cold. No one complained and no one talked. A certain tension existed to the trip that brought a bunch of people together who didn't know one another and didn't really have much in common. That is, except they liked me enough to do this, and they were crazy as shit for offering their services. The thirtyminute ride seemed a lot longer. A mile outside the puppy mill, Rocco pulled over to the side of the road so we could mount a battle plan. Rocco looked at me to address the army and I shook my head and nodded to Karl. This was his show and his chance to exorcise whatever demons haunted him. I thought it might be nice if he didn't get killed, or get the rest of us killed in the process.

"All right everybody listen up," Karl said his voice deep, his tone confident. It wasn't hard to picture him as an exemplary soldier. "This is what we know. A. The bastards who live here are right-wing whack jobs and we don't know what they are capable of. B. They're mistreating dogs, including a pregnant dog we've identified as Al's mom." Karl paused and looked at everyone.

"And C." His voice deepened and he turned the volume up a notch. "Their operation is fuckin' history the second we bust through that fuckin' gate!" Karl yelled it at the top of his lungs and Rocco floored the Deuce.

Rocco had her up around seventy as we bombed down Route 85. The puppy mill came into view about a hundred yards down the road. Rocco yelled, "Hang on tight, men!" The Deuce hit the gate, blasting it wide open. Sparks from the metal-to-metal violence flew and the gate splintered into a dozen pieces. The Deuce swerved, bounced, and for a second felt like it was going to roll over, but Rocco, like Lee Marvin on steroids, righted it and yelled "Yahoo! You Motherfuckers!" Lights went on all over the compound and alarm sirens went off. Rocco didn't slow down and headed down the dirt road towards the kennels. When he got within fifty yards he slowed the Deuce down so everyone could jump out.

"Free the POWs," Karl yelled referring to the basset hounds.

The AJ's Army jumped out of the back of the Deuce and ran into the kennels. The hounds heard the noise and went nuts. A cacophony of barking, howling, and baying filled the night as the gang ran in.

Jerry Number One and TC were the first out, each carrying a couple of old hounds. Next came Vinci and Billy followed by the three gang-bangers all holding bassets. What a great sight. Billy and Timo each had a fat lemon and yellow basset in their arms, running toward the Deuce, and Jamal made a face trying not to inhale as his POW relieved himself. Mary Jo told a little guy to hush up and he would be all right, and Dr. Pac was tried to get an unruly barker into the back of the Deuce. I heard Karl yell out for me. I ran to the back of the barn. He stood there with Al, who paced back and forth and wagged his tail.

"Duffy!"

I got back there as fast as I could and noticed what had caused the panic in his voice. Gladys moaned in pain and breathed hard. A little foam oozed out her mouth.

"She's in trouble, Duff. She needs help bad," Karl said. He wrapped her in a tattered blanket he found in her pen and lifted her as gently as he could. "We gotta get her to a vet ASAP." Ahead of us in the barn, there a flurry of activity continued as the gang rounded up the rest of the hounds. Karl walked with Gladys as gingerly as he could. Only a handful of hounds remained and the gang-bangers rounded them up.

"Damn these mutherfuckin' bitches smell!" I heard one say to the other. I didn't think he meant it literally. I could hear the Deuce's engine. We came out with Gladys to load her in the front seat. We loaded Gladys into the front seat when I heard Billy Cramer say, "Hey Duff, looks like we got some company."

Down from the hill came about twenty men, some skinhead types, others military types, heading right for the Deuce. They didn't look happy.

"Hey Karl," I yelled, "I thought you said about 10 guys worked here."

Karl looked at the men running toward us.

"I was wrong," he said.

"Showtime!" Shony's cousin yelled.

"I was hopin' we were gonna get some action," his friend with the tooth pick said.

Billy Cramer rolled his shoulders to loosen up and his buddy Timo just smiled out of the side of his mouth. Shaquon cracked his neck, Angel hopped from foot to foot, and Jamal cracked his knuckles. I felt that twitch in my neck. Rocco got the Louisville slugger from behind his seat. The two Jerrys and TC looked nervous and stayed with the dogs. It looked like they had us by about 10 men.

They were still at a disadvantage.

The first two to engage were Shony's gang-bangers. The three of them took on five skinny pale guys with shaved heads and tattoos. Two skinny bastards went down and out quick and the other three found themselves in big trouble. Flurries of other punches flew and in seconds the skinheads went down on their backs desperately trying not to get stomped to death. Over on the knoll to the right, Billy and Timo faced off against four body-builder types with flattops. Two charged Billy, who swung his left arm in a tight circle, wrapped up one guy, and turned him, using his bald head as a weapon. The head hit the other guy right in the face and blood exploded from it. Meanwhile, Timo had both guys down and screaming, as he had broken their pinkies with some sort of sick Brazilian Jujitsu shit. Karl tangled with two guys and had his hands full. One guy had him wrapped up while another got off the ground from Karl's kick to work him over. The guy paused and reached into his pocket to slide on some brass knuckles. Karl was going to get really messed up. I headed over to try to get between him and the on-coming punch. I wasn't going to make it in time. Karl was going to take one hard and right in the face and I felt sick not being able to get there.

The skinhead smiled with his rotten teeth, and wound up to throw a haymaker right in Karl's face. He cocked his arm, putting everything he could into it. Suddenly he froze, his face turning into mask of horror. He collapsed to the ground. Al had affixed his jaws to the guy's nads and he wasn't letting go. The guy screamed bloody horror. Al growled a sound I had only heard once before. His jaws bear-trapped on the guys' privates. Al's eyes bulged out of his head while he let out that horrible growl. The sound came from hell and Al let the world know he would not stand for Karl being fucked with. The guy holding Karl got distracted just for a second and that was enough for Karl's training. Karl slammed the back of his own head into the bridge of the guy's nose, breaking the grip. Karl followed up with an elbow strike to the guy's temple. The guy crumbled face down.