Read Online The Dog by Amy Cross - Free Book Online Page A

become less tense. Finally, with the rain still pounding down and darkness having fallen, and with occasional rumbles still filling the sky, I realize that Jon has fallen asleep. I paw at his leg again, but he doesn't respond.
    “Poor guy,” Richard says, leaning closer and taking a look at Jon's face. “Didn't take much to knock him out, did it?”
    He tries to pat my head, but I pull away.
    “What's up? Don't you like me?” He looks at the half-empty bottle. “Good job I don't really drink, or I'd regret giving away so much good whiskey. Never had a taste for the stuff, myself. It's wine for me, all the way.”
    Getting to his feet, he lets out a faint gasp as his bones creak. He smiles at me as he steps past, and then he heads into the kitchen. I let out a low growl, annoyed that he thinks he has the run of the place, and I watch as he heads to one of the drawers and pulls it open. He reaches in, and after a moment he takes out a roll of dirty paper. It's the same kind of paper I've seen Jon sometimes giving to people at stores. Flicking through the notes, Richard seems to be counting how many there are.
    “I'll take these,” he mutters, before moving over to the cupboards and taking a look inside. “Not that money is going to be much use nowadays, but one never knows. Sorry, my little friend, but it's a dog eat dog world out there now. A man has to do whatever it takes in order to survive. Even if that means slipping sleeping medication into a bottle of whiskey.”
    He grabs a box from the counter and starts filling it with the food Jon brought.
    “On the plus side,” he continues, “your owner is going to learn a very valuable lesson when he wakes up. There are a lot of people out there who wouldn't simply leave him snoozing. They'd cut his throat and take his cabin, and to be fair that's not a bad idea, but...”
    He holds up a pot and examines the contents for a moment.
    “Decent coffee,” he says with a faint smile, before adding it to the box. “I'll have to save that for a special occasion. By the way, dog, do you happen to know if your owner has any other weapons? I'm sure the rifle is all well and good, but I could really use a handgun or some decent knives.”
    Snarling as he heads over to the other side of the kitchen, I watch as he opens the other drawers and takes out some knives. I'm sure he doesn't have permission to be doing this, so I bark a couple of times, partly to warn him that he has to stop and partly so that Jon will wake up.
    “Keep it down,” Richard says with a grin, before grabbing my lead from the hook on the wall. “I feel bad for this, but I think maybe I could use you on my travels. A good guard-dog could be a real life-saver.” He steps toward me, with the lead in one hand and a knife in the other. “Come on, boy. Time to come with me. I'll be your new Daddy!”
    I bark again, while backing toward the door.
    Sighing, he stops and stares at me for a moment.
    “You're going to wake your owner if you're not careful,” he mutters, but then he seems briefly lost in thought. “Jesus Christ, what's wrong with me? I have to do it, don't I? What am I, some kind of wimp?”
    He pauses, before setting the lead aside. After looking down at the knife for a few seconds, he glances at me with a hint of fear in his eyes.
    “I'm not going to last long in this world if I can't even stand the sight of blood. I need to push myself over that line, I need to toughen up and the best way to do that is...”
    His voice trails off for a moment, and I can tell his pulse is racing. Suddenly he glances toward the open door, looking out toward the porch where Jon is still fast asleep.
    “I can do this,” he says finally, as if he's trying to work up the courage to do something that horrifies him. “I can kill a man. I have to. If I do it now, then next time I have to defend myself, I won't hesitate. I'll be less of a pussy.” He pauses again, before stepping toward the door. “Sorry, pooch,