Dangerous Times and Dog Crimes

 A weary, bowing forest framed the dwindling lake, which presently still served as a mirror, for those tall, failing trees; they seemed to gaze at their undisturbed reflections with a hushed acceptance of their desperately aged appearance. 

 Breeze was absent and the oppressive, unrelenting heat battered Tanvi’s shoulders while she slowly bent forward on her branch, observing those still trees across the ebbing lake and the sanguine surface of its water.  

 The loaded air was absent of sound.

 She breathed in deeply then exhaled, pursing her cracked lips as though she were blowing a giant bubble with a mouthful – sized blob of good old gum.

  It was time to leave the old shed she’d hidden in for three whole days and nights. Gradually, she unfolded her arms , stretching her hands out in front of her, checking for a quiver or jerk.

 ‘That’s odd,’ Tanvi whispered into the suspended atmosphere. ‘Not even a tremble anymore.’ 

  One last survey of her view, before she swung her way through the sturdy branches, down, down, down, then drop! The most muffled thud came, as her feet plunged into the tufts of long grass. Her position remained low and bent forward, her eyes scanning left to right as she trod one long stride at a time. Tanvi tutted quietly, frowning at those stems of grass that cracked under her feet; well- they’d dried up because of the unrelenting heat. 

 Pulling her compass from her blouse pocket, she studied the position of its friendly needle that already pointed northward. Thankfully, north was not across the lake.

 Looking swiftly at the pool of water one last time, she wondered, ‘Could that be alright to drink from?’ She licked her lips and longed for a sip.

 ‘Nope,’ she whispered as the idea fleeted through her mind . ‘Poisoned,’ she affirmed. Truthfully, she didn’t know for certain - she could’ve always checked for floating dead fish, yet the risk of heading out into the clearing would’ve been greater than any reward. 

  Before starting off, Tanvi reminded herself again of Wally Bracket’s words: ‘There’s safe communes in the north,’ he’d croak. ‘Heard it said.’ 

 ‘Who-who said?,’ Tanvi would question him. 

  ‘Oh, you know dear. Them that are clever. Them peoples have already moved northward - the air is clearer up there my dear. No point hanging about with an old feller like me now, is there,’ he’d chuckle- then cough - then chuckle again.   Poor Wally Bracket. Tanvi sensed a tug at her heart and was certain it hurt when she imagined Wally’s face, all tight and white and dead; she scorned herself for thinking this way. She couldn’t help it though. It was just there. 

She adjusted her mask to fit properly over her nose and mouth .

  Quietening her doubts, she knew she had to move. The sun had begun to ease towards the west. Still, the heat felt just as intense, if not worse than earlier on. She wiped her forehead with her sleeve, then set off, still bending low behind the tall grass stems, until she was almost certain she’d be out of sight.  

 ‘ Just keep north, just keep north. Don’t doubt it, never shout it, just keep north,’ Tanvi sang softly and nervously, as she began weaving through the gargantuan trunks. She wondered how far she needed to trudge before reaching another clearing; or even better - discovered any signs that could help her remember where on earth she was:   It still looked like England but the landscape was gradually dying: flowers were not holding their colours, turning a frightening shade of grey before disappearing into piles of ash. Trees were beginning to break and bend, once they prematurely shed most of their summertime leaves. Even the evergreens looked as though they wouldn’t last. That faint, insidious, yellow powder wafting in the acrid air was a deathly poison, as Tanvi well knew. As for where it was coming from, nobody knew.

   Getting through the forest, Tanvi thought, was as maddeningly slow as wading through water: the masses of fallen leaves and clods of thick, grey mush underfoot slowed her progress and after an hour or so, she became all too aware of the faint, sharp scent of poisoned air, despite her mask being as close to her face as it could be. Nevertheless, a quick adjustment wouldn’t hurt.  ‘Hmmmph,’ she moaned, feeling the droplets of sweat gathering under her gardening gloves, rolling down her upturned forearm. ‘Just rain, why won’t you rain?’ She mumbled futilely. 

 By dusk, Tanvi hadn’t made it to an exit. Her movement had near - halted - her exhaustion was overbearing. Her eyelids would most likely close on their own very soon and she’d still be stuck on the forest floor, asleep and exposed to the PV24 Dogs. 

 She would give up on the trek for now, so searched for a suitable, stable tree at once - thankfully this forest had many old oaks and they appeared to be more resilient to the decay. They also had useful, low hanging branches which she could haul herself up onto and then ascend into the higher branches for a safe night ahead. The tree she chose had been relatively untouched by the wicked air. ‘You’ll do,’ she said, circling its reliable - looking trunk, tapping the bark gently with her gloved hands. Securing her heavy rucksack and tying her shoelaces was next. Then upwards, she hauled herself. 

 Before conceding to the heaviness bearing down on her eyelids, Tanvi had one last task to tackle: tying the piece of rope unraveled from her backpack, tightly around her waist and around the section of trunk she now hunkered down upon. This was not optional , as mild tremors still came every now and then and the ground would move as though the earth were pregnant with a restless little monster in its belly. 

 The first tremor was the worst; Tanvi indulged in lucid images from the afternoon that changed the world. She would replay it nightly, to train her brain never to forget what had happened. She didn’t trust it at all (her memory) as other parts of her past had disappeared altogether on that day too. And when she tried to remember her mum, dad, or even where she lived, it was like trying to make sense of things underwater, without goggles. All smudged and smeary. More than that; it wasn’t only her. It had been everyone in her class. They no longer knew one another at all. The terror and panic followed.

 ‘The shake happened as I was walking along the corridor to a lesson of some sort; the bad, bad headache; then the weird silence; the next tremor; then the dust filling our lungs- then the return of the dogs.’

Tanvi rugged hard at the tied rope around her waist, swaying left , then right, making certain she wouldn’t fall. 

 By now, the sun was setting as its rays threw themselves sideways, thrashing through the slowly dying branches and disappointingly, the vile air stayed thick and close. 

 ‘The dogs; those poor dogs,’ she sighed. 

 Only a short while before the first tremor, she recalled the terrifying news reports and social media uploads on every platform, showing awful changes in the behaviour of pet dogs. It didn’t happen all at once; it was a steady worsening as weeks went by.

Tanvi closed her eyes tightly, as she heard shrieks of grief cutting through the almost abandoned streets – it came from the stricken dog owners and the quick yelps of the sick beasts as bullets ripped through their furs; nightmarish memories coming at Tanvi like darts. The government soon set into force the slaughter of all canines - there had been constant parades of massive army trucks driven by sombre - looking military men and women, whose mission it had been to haul piles of massacred dogs from their homes to the enormous pits dug on the edges of towns all over the country.  The ‘Dog Holocaust,’ they called it. These sickening acts seemed to be carried out in such a disrespectful way as carcasses were left behind.

 ‘It made me think how the garbage men used to perform when emptying rubbish into the throats of their ugly,noisy lorries ; allowing bits of fallen litter to make a run for it with help of a good wind,’ Tanvi protested one morning in the car, while accompanying Wally on a tin – food/alcohol run.

 Despite her desperate situation, she always recalled her conversations with this dear old man (who had been a stranger only a while ago), with such affection. Sadness too.

 Wally laughed. ‘You, young lady is very clever with those words of yours. Just like the litter runnin’ about,’ he repeated, shaking his bald head kindly, coughing until he had to stop the car and reach for a hankie to contain the blood.

 A few days after dogs began attacking humans, Scientists discovered a new disease in that was causing them to becomedangerous: ‘PV24’. At first, heavy tranquilisers were trialled – it was more effective with the smaller dogs, but anything bigger than a cocker spaniel, was a real threat. In the end, it was decided to begin mass slaughter – even the tinier dogs, once the tranquilisers wore off, were as vicious as ever.

 Tanvi was relieved she hadn’t owned a dog, only to have it shot - or had her parents bought one? And did she have parents anymore? ‘I can’t remember,’ she groaned, pulling out a warm can of Pepsi from her rucksack. She had four left, but now she didn’t care. Her thirst spoke louder than her rationing. Hastily, she peeled a plastic straw from the front pocket of her bag and spritzed open its lid. She adored that sound. 

 Leaning back on the wide girth of trunk, Tanvi slipped the bent end of the straw beneath her mask; the other end into the fizz of hissing bliss. Tanvi’s burdening thoughts popped like spent bubbles as she slurped away.

 ‘Ice would have been nice,’ she reminisced, then smiled a little.

 It was as she finished the Pepsi that she heard it. A screeching howl, coming from below!

 Instinctively, she grabbed the branch in front of her, dropping the can and straw. She couldn’t look down, sitting frozen, as the tin danced and swirled its way through the branches, plunging into the delicate evening haze. Her heart boomed in her chest and she struggled to breathe. Terror gripped her once again – who knew how long for?   Last time it lasted a week but she had had Bracket to take care of her then.

 The shaking began, just as if someone had flicked some electrical switch in her body. Putting her head on the jagged bark of a branch, with her eyes firmly averted from the direction of that awful howl, she thought, for a second, how peaceful it might be to open the little blue medicine box tucked firmly in her upper pocket that had the press stud secured. Wally had given it to her, just in case.

 ‘You’ll just…. just go to sleep, peaceful like,’ Wally explained, his faded blue, cataract – covered eyes searching for her gaze. ‘You’re leavin’ and I don’t want you to be somewhere – anywhere that you might be in pain and there’s no way out. I… I can trust you now, can’t I? Not to take the pill unless you have no other way. Promise me Tanvi! Cos once it’s been chewed, well, that’s it. There’s no …..,’ He was too overcome and breathless, yet still holding both her hands as he sat in front of her. 

 ‘What about you Wally? What if it becomes painful for you – the poisoning I mean. What if you need….’

 ‘Hush hush now!’ he retorted. His head nodded towards his alcohol -filled glass cabinet. She realised that would be his way out.

 ‘ Alright.Thank you Wally. I shan’t ever be able to repay you. I will never forget you Wally.’

 She hugged the wizened, selfless old man tightly, wondering if this might be the very last hug either of them might have. Tears flooded from Tanvi’s eyes, crying as quietly as she could into his old cardigan that reeked of tobacco and mint.

 ‘ Knowin’ what’s happenin’ with our poor noddles. I reckon you will forget my dear,’ he chuckled, returning my squeeze all too feebly; he was so sick.

‘I shan’t forget you,’ were her last words to Mr Bracket. ‘I won’t let myself!’

 Still struggling for air, Tanvi had to remove the mask from her nose.

Another noise came reeling towards her, yet it was more of a whimper. It was indeed a large dog, from what she could see in the early evening light. It was a full moon and clear skies so she made out its shape at least. A greyhound perhaps? Or Doberman? She couldn’t be entirely sure. It kept circling in on itself, as if it were trying to grab its own tail. But she realised soon enough that it wasn’t well. It whimpered again and again, then at last, it appeared defeated as its long legs keeled over among the dead debris. Despite the shakes, Tanvi turned her head as far as it would go, to see if any other dogs were nearby; perhaps this one below had gotten into a fight with another dog and it was being followed. Or had it been fought off by a human?

 Tanvi could taste the bitterness of the dangerous air, as it began coating her tongue – the powdery poison that looked as innocent as custard powder but tasted nothing like it. She flipped the mask immediately back over the bridge of her nose and couldn’t stop herself from sneezing violently into it.

She waited.

 The hound didn’t move. Perhaps it was now dead? No – it gave out another soft whimper.

Steadily, Tanvi sensed her terror began to free its grip on her and something else replaced it: she was feeling pity for the injured animal lying so helpless, just metres from her. ‘Not my problem, not my problem, not my problem,’ she sang ,trying in vain to soothe the rising guilt invading her heart.

 ‘You have to help it,’ insisted her conscience.

 ‘Not my problem. My life is worth more than that beast,’ she told it.

 ‘Is it?’ her conscience continued.

It was always like this. The battle inside. Tanvi knew her conscience was going to win.

 She steadily unhooked her loaded rucksack from a branch nearby and sat it carefully on her lap; she dug out the knife she’d taken from a supermarket, while looting with Wally. It was long and sharp enough to kill anything, she assured herself, brushing the edge lightly with her finger. She could slip it through her skirt belt – yes, then she could reach for it quickly if she was going to be attacked.

 As she slid it through the leather belt around her little waist, her focus shifted to her lungs. They were starting to burn. She’d felt this pain before now - after she’d take off her mask. It would ease off, she reminded herself. It wouldn’t take long, and she’d be alright again. She nodded, then hurriedly untied herself from her good friend, the tree.

 Once nearly next to the animal, she heard its quick, desperate breathing, as it lay on its side among the shed leaves and bleak undergrowth. As she crept forwards to get a closer look, she noticed the thing’s eyes were open. Her hand felt for her knife that hung from the right side of her hip – it was all that stood between her and death. The heat became too humid and even though her hair sat in tight plaits, Tanvi could feel sweat pouring from her scalp.

It whimpered again as its marble – dark eyes saw her. More loudly and with more effort.

 ‘Hello,’ she whispered, smiling widely, hoping it would understand she was no threat. ‘ Are you hurt? You poor darlling.’

The dog let out a diluted growl.

 Telling herself it was because the dog was defenceless and fearful, helped keep her nerves at bay. And despite her inner fears, Tanvi gingerly knelt in front of it, making certain it could see her: so, it wouldn’t be startled at all. She reached out her almost steady hand and lightly stroked its silky head and it seemed to react by nuzzling its long nose into her palm.

 The moonlight quickly reflected on the injured greyhound’s collar – it was a dog tag!

Tanvi gently lifted the silver circle and manoeuvred it so the light would catch the writing imprinted on it:

 ‘L – I -M -P – I – T,’ she read aloud. ‘Limpit.’ The address was there too – not that it mattered now - still, where it had come from?

 ’29 Merrimeade Close, Hythe, Southampton, SO42 6ZX.’ Flipping the glinting tag over, there lay the words: ‘Belonging to Tanvi Tattersall.’

 ‘Oh my god!’ Tanvi shouted, leaning down, brushing her face against the dog’s. ‘I remember you now! You’re mine! Let’s…’

 Tanvi said nothing more.

 The canine revived itself with such ferocity that she didn’t have a moment to feel fear. The knife dropped from her belt as the diseased dog sunk its enormous jaws deep into her side. Tanvi never knew how the rest of the pack had been waiting nearby, while Limpit deceived its owner.

 But all was not lost.

 Limpit’s life ended straight after Tanvi’s, as he bit down on Wally’s deadly cyanide pill that still resided in her upper pocket.