Chapter Eleven: The Bone Monster Turns Out to Be Real
I mean, if a guy’s life’s in danger, if he’s being watched by a horrible red-eyed Night-Stalking Bone Monster, why should he stick around for the full count?
We didn’t, fellers. We went into Rocket Dog Mode and got ourselves out of that creepy place. I never would have dreamed that Ralph could run so fast on those stubby legs of his, but he was picking ’em up and laying ’em down.
We went streaking to the gas tanks. Drover had been sleeping, but his head came up as he heard the roar of our rocket engines and the screech of our brakes.
His ears were crooked and his eyes were crossed. “Mirk snork snicklefritz, who’s that?”
I was panting for breath. “Drover, this is Dogpound Ralph. Ralph, meet Drover, my assistant.”
They exchanged nods while I caught my breath. “Drover, I’m afraid we’re in for one of the longest and scariest nights of our lives.”
His face wilted. “I don’t think I want to hear this.”
“I’m sorry, son, but it’s my duty to tell you the facts.”
“I hate facts, especially scary ones. Oh Hank, don’t tell me that it’s the Bone Monster.”
I stared at the runt. “How did you know? Did you see him too?”
“Well, I . . .”
“That makes two of us who caught a glimpse of him. How about you, Ralph? Did you see him too?”
“Well . . . I saw something.”
“There you are! That makes three out of three. We all saw the Bone Monster, so there’s no question that he’s on the loose, out there somewhere in the black darkness of night.”
Suddenly I heard an odd sound. Then I realized that it was coming from Drover. His teeth were chattering.
“Drover, do something about your teeth.”
“I can’t take ’em out. What should I do?”
“I don’t know, but stop clicking them.” I began pacing back and forth in front of my troops. “All right, men. I feel it’s my duty to give you all the information in this case.”
Drover moaned. “I don’t think I can stand it!”
“Hush. As you already know, the Bone Monster entered our Garden Vault and stole all three of our bones.”
Drover stared at me with empty eyes. “Garden Vault? What . . . I thought . . . I think I missed something.”
“Exactly, which is why you should pay attention once in a while. But the crucial fact here is that, after stealing my . . . that is, our bones, the Bone Monster LEFT SOMETHING IN THE HOLES.”
I heard Drover gasp. “You mean . . .”
“Exactly. He stole the bones and left a carbolic object in their place. Bone Monsters always do that. It’s part of their routine, their pattern.”
There was a long throbbing silence. Then Drover said, “Gosh, I wonder what he left.”
I stopped pacing and whirled around. “I’ll tell you what he left, Drover. In each of the holes, he left . . . a Vienna sausage can. Do you see what this means?”
“Not really.”
“It’s very simple, if you understand the mind of crinimals and monsters. They take something of great value—a bone, for example—and leave something that contains a secret coded carbolic message. Ralph, would you care to guess the secret carbolic message of an empty Vienna sausage can?”
“Well . . . let me think.”
I waited. Time was slipping away. “I’m sorry, Ralph, but we’re out of time. The secret carbolic message is . . .” My eyes flicked back and forth, from one terrified face to the other. “The secret message is that the Bone Monster intends to make sausage out of us.”
Drover keeled over. “Oh my gosh, I’m too young to be a sausage, and this old leg is killing me!”
“Get up, Drover, this is no time to show your true colors. It happens that I have a plan. We’ll make our stand here at the gas tanks. We’ll need someone to stand guard. I’m looking for a volunteer.”
No paws went up, so I turned to Ralph. “How about it, Ralph? You’ve had valuable experience as a jailbird. You just might be the right dog for this job.”
“I don’t think so. We don’t have monsters at the dog pound, and besides, my legs are so short, I’m kind of nearsighted.”
“Hmmm. I hadn’t thought of that. How many fingers am I holding up?”
He squinted at me. “Let’s see. Fifteen?”
I turned to Drover. “Ralph’s out. I guess it’s down to you and me. Or to put it another way, Drover, congratulations. You get the job.”
“Yeah, but I saw fifteen fingers too. My eyes are terrible.”
“They’ll get better with practice.”
“And this old leg of mine . . .”
“Never mind the leg, Drover. You’ll take the first watch. Ralph and I will go into Bunker Position. If you see anything suspicious, you can give us a call.”
Drover whimpered and cried, but I ignored him.
By the time Ralph and I entered the Fortified Bunker, darkness had fallen over the ranch. Oh, and in case you’re not familiar with Fortified Bunkers, let me describe this one. It consisted of one gunnysack. To enter the bunker, we eased our heads beneath the sack.
You may not believe this, but that layer of gunnysack material provides excellent protection against, oh, incoming mortar shells, laser beams, you name it. It also has the extra benefit of shutting out a world that has become . . .
How can we put this? If a guy needs a break from the rigors of . . . he can find peace and quiet beneath a gunnysack, is the point.
I know, Drover often uses this technique to flee from Reality, but that’s a different deal.
Anyway, Ralph and I entered the Fortified Bunker. He broke the long silence. “You reckon the monster’ll come back?”
“We don’t have an answer to that, Ralph.”
“I wish I was fishin’ with Jimmy Joe.”
“Get some sleep, Ralph. This may be a long night.”
“I wish I was back at the dog pound. I wish . . .”
Just then Drover called in his first report. “Hank, I see something out there!”
Ralph and I froze. Perhaps we exchanged worried glances. It was hard to tell in the darkness of the bunker. I decided to break radio silence.
“Blue Moon, this is Dishpan. Go ahead.”
“I was calling for Hank. I must have got the wrong number.”
“This is me, you drip, but I’m running under the code name Dishpan. Your code name is Blue Moon. Go ahead, Blue Moon. What do you see?”
“Well, I’m not sure, but it moved.”
“Roger, Blue Moon. Keep your eye on it and let us know what happens, over.”
There was a minute or two of eerie silence. Then . . .
“Blue Dish, this is Moonbeam. It’s still out there, and it’s still moving.”
“Roger, Blue Moon. Can you identify that odd noise we’re picking up?”
“It’s my teeth again.”
“Roger, Blue Moon. We’d better go to Silent Teeth. Can you give us a description, over?”
“They’re long and white and smooth.”
“What are you describing, Blue Moon?”
“My teeth, and I can’t keep ’em still.”
“Blue Roger, Moonshine, but we need a description of the moving object, over.”
“Oh. Well, let’s see here. Oh my gosh!”
“What is it, Blue Moon? Report at once, over.”
“It’s a . . . he’s . . . oh my gosh! Dishrag, this Blue Cheese, and it’s a . . . it’s a red hairy gorilla with three yellow eyes and huge claws and long bloody teeth and . . . and he’s seven feet tall and he’s . . . CRUSHING BONES IN HIS MOUTH!”
That last part sent a jolt of electricity out to the end of my tail. I tried to remain calm, but that wasn’t easy.
“Holy cats, Drover, you’ve just described a Bone Monster.”
“I was afraid of that. What should I do?”
“Hang on, Cheese Ball. Give us a minute to think.” I sent an urgent message to Data Control.
Data Control sent back meaningless signals. We were on our own now. “Swiss Cheese, this is Grease Rag. What’s the situation now?”
“I want to go home!”
“What’s the Bone Monster doing, over?”
“Well, let me see. He’s . . . oh my gosh, he’s coming this way and he’s . . . he’s grinding his teeth together and he’s . . . he just said he wants to eat a COWDOG!”
Yikes.
I switched off the radio and turned to Ralph. “Ralph, are you there?”
“Uh-huh, and if I ever get out of here alive, I ain’t ever leaving the dog pound again.”
“How fast can you run?”
“Well, usually not too fast, but I think I can feel a burst of energy comin’ on.”
“Good. We’re surrounded. We’ve got to make a run for it. Drover, we’re coming out.”
“Are you talking to me?”
“Of course I’m talking to you!”
“I thought I was Cheese Ball. I’m all confused.”
“Drover, do you want to be confused or do you want to run for your life? You can’t do both.”
“I’ll take Number Two.”
“Fine. Then quit squeaking nonsense. We’re coming out.” We came flying out of the bunker. My eyes probed the darkness around us. “Where is he, Drover? Give me exact coordinates.”
“Well, first he was over there, then he moved over here.”
“Is that longitude or latitude?”
“I think so. Anyway, he was huge and ugly.”
“Got it.” I faced my little band of troopers. “Okay, men, we’ve got to bust out of here. It’s our only chance. We’ll make a run for the yard gate, regroup there, and scale the fence.”
Drover spoke. “I ate a fish scale once. Couldn’t swallow for a whole day.”
“Exactly, so on this mission we must avoid all fish and swallows. Are we ready to move out? Let’s make a run for it, and don’t speak to any strangers. Good luck, men.”
And with that, we ran for our lives.