Doctor Who_ Warlock - Andrew Cartmel [111]
Jack had a better idea.
After he returned cautiously back down the hill, getting inside the farmhouse proved surprisingly easy. The two main doors were locked but the kitchen had a stable‐style half door and only the bottom section was swung shut. Jack backed up and took a long run, clearing it with a single powerful leap that carried him skidding across the floor, claws scrabbling on the tiles.
The table and counters were covered with the remains of a sumptuous meal and Jack made himself ignore the luscious smells. He had a mission. He padded through into the corridor along synthetic carpet that smelled of some kind of cleaning agent. Finding Dieter’s bedroom was no problem. He could smell the little bastard’s personal odour as soon as he entered the house. Jack could tell that the house was empty and he came prowling into the room without hesitation, his dog heart pounding with excitement.
Excellent, just as he’d hoped. The closets were all wide open. Jack entered the mirrored enclosure. On hangers and shelves were suits, jackets, ties, trousers, shirts, sweaters, belts and shoes of subtle colour and beautiful cut. He sniffed at the expensive fabrics and leather and then he composed himself.
Or, rather, he composed his message. He phrased it in his mind, letting his fury etch it deep. Then he let his aching bladder go.
By pacing himself he managed to spray just about every square centimetre of the closet space. Of course, some of the items on hangers were too high for him to soak properly, but he comforted himself with the thought that even these received at least a good splashing on the regions nearest ground level.
When he finished he retreated from the closet and took a long deep sniff. Sure enough, there was his message, echoing loud and clear in his own head.
‘Dieter is a snivelling sissy.’
Jack barked happily and bounded out.
On leaving the farmhouse he had intended to skirt the pond and barns, giving the laboratory a wide berth, and head straight back up into the hills. But as soon as he was in the open air a smell hit him.
Its effect on him was so intense that Jack’s consciousness was eclipsed and the dog in him took over altogether. There was no conscious thought as his legs carried him back towards the pond, then scrambled around the smaller farmhouse.
There she was. A black dog with a red collar. Sheba.
Jack had known Sheba ever since Shell had bought her as a puppy. And of course, he was glad to see that she had escaped from captivity somehow.
But that didn’t begin to account for the extraordinary emotion he felt now. It was a reaction so explosive that all other thoughts simply vanished. He stared at the sleek black dog and raced towards her without hesitation. Jack remembered vaguely that there was something he should remember about Sheba. As he raced up to her and sniffed her he remembered what it was. She was on heat.
Your sexuality is going to get you into trouble, said the last fading ember of his human consciousness. Then Jack forgot about that and everything else. Sheba filled his consciousness.
His simplified hybrid mind observed the events, converting experience into the simplest of caricatured categories. He lunged at Sheba. He couldn’t stop himself. He was a dog, no longer a human being. She was a dog and she was beautiful. She was begging for it. He had to have her. He reared up behind her triumphantly.
He was chuckling a doggy chuckle when the net came down on him.
Jack spun around and tried to fight the strong synthetic mesh. But the more he fought the more entangled he became. He opened his jaws and tried to bite at the net but his teeth got caught and the mesh cut into the delicate tissues of his mouth. He tried to gouge at it with his claws but all four of his legs were caught fast.
His eyes rolling in his narrow skull, Jack stared up at the grinning blond man who held the net.
‘Got you,’ said Sean.
As Jack was dragged, snarling and gnashing, back towards the barn, he tried to fight off despair. He’d been recaptured and he was even more vulnerable now than he’d been in