The Skinwalker Conspiracies - 02 (28 page)

“Let’s see what she has to say for herself,” he said.

Even with my messed up vision, I could see the glow surrounding him and seconds later, he pulled Cassandra’s head out by her hair.

“Please!”
I heard the whining in her voice.
“I’ve learned my lesson, Hernando. This will never happen again.”

He pushed her back in, causing the poodle to whimper in discomfort. “If only I could believe that, young lady. Perhaps, given enough time to understand your foolishness, you will mature. For the moment, you are where you deserve to be. Think of it as a learning opportunity. Lesser animals can be controlled, but it’s much different than humans. The secret resides solely with me. When you’ve proven to me that you can do this, we will talk again. Do try to remain sane in there. I would hate to invest this time with you and have you come out as a gibbering idiot.”

I had to hand it to De Soto. His monologues were better than Roger Taney’s or William Poe’s. My poor jaws were probably getting a workout under the new management. I sure as hell didn’t run my mouth like that.

Satisfied with his demonstration, he turned his attention to the two of us. His hand tossed a few treats onto the Berber carpet. Fido and Blackie raced to scoop them up.

“Now, I must decide what to do with you two children, who dare to challenge me! Lee, you insignificant gnat, even if you prepared for another thousand years, you’ll never be able win. Far better than you have tried … and failed. I know you better than you know yourself and you’re weak. What will become of you? I think I’ll put you in the ring and make you fight for me. Humiliation works for someone like Cassandra, but for you I think it shall be pain. When the animal holding you is killed, you carry some of that pain with you.”

More treats landed around Fido and I knew he’d turn his attention to me. “Mister Ross, first I must thank you for bringing this well-maintained body to me. I am wary of mortals that possess the ability to affect the spirits, so I will take my time breaking you. As insurance, I’ll be sending someone to watch over your mother. That should ensure your cooperation for the time being. The only reason you are still alive is out of consideration for your father’s long years of service.”

If I hadn’t planned on destroying him before that point, I’d have changed my mind.

“But to show you that I’m considerate, I placed you inside a dog that hasn’t been neutered. Coincidentally, neither has the animal imprisoning Cassandra. The two of you will make wonderful parents.”

Again, he did the maniacal laughter thing while I vowed eternal vengeance.  He stopped when a buzzer rang. Grabbing a remote, he changed the channel to what must be surveillance cameras. A Mustang was at the front gate with a pair of bimbos in it. “Ah, it’s time for my massage. David, why don’t you take our new pets out back and let them run and play and then take the rest of the day off. I plan to test out this new body.”

Yeah, I was furious and a little jealous. It doesn’t take two girls to give a massage. I wasn’t certain how, but Hernando De Soto was going to suffer before he died. Dad looked a bit put out as well, no doubt realizing his days of getting “massages” were coming to an end.

Dad grabbed the treat bag and we obediently followed with our tails wagging. The only thing that I knew at the moment was if relaxation and meditation were my way out of this mutt, I wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. I was that pissed.

The backyard was as hot as an Arizona summer could be. Anyone shoveling that “dry heat” bullshit should try it wearing a coat of fur. Little Fido ran around like a maniac and started lapping up water. This didn’t get my mind off of what was likely happening in the house, but it did give renewed focus. Outright control didn’t seem a possibility.

It was time to try something else. Skinwalkers can either kick a person out leaving an empty shell for them to inhabit or they can do like Cassandra does and leave the person in charge, and “steer” them in the direction they wanted the body to go. I’d settle for that right now.

At community college I was trying to get into computers. Given all the electrical mishaps that follow me around, it now seemed like a dubious choice. Still, all the background information gave me a place to start. After all, a brain is a really complex computer. I needed some kind of interface to Fido. Direct mental commands didn’t work. I couldn’t think “bark” and make him do it.

Next, I went with emotions. I thought “happy” thoughts. Ten minutes of trying to be upbeat and cheerful produced nothing but a turd. That, I’m pretty sure, was a coincidence. Anger, I didn’t bother with, because Fido had been getting a steady dose of that since I figured out what was going on.

What did the dog want? The only thing I came up with was the damn chew toy. The back door opened and Dad let us inside. More water and actual dog food followed. Fido didn’t mind, but I did. After eating, he wandered around the house for a little while before curling up on a blanket.

No, don’t close your eyes! I don’t want to …

When Fido woke up, the sun was in a different position and I hadn’t known what to expect. Time had definitely passed. It was a dreamless sleep. I thought maybe I’d be awake the whole time, but it was like a switch had been flipped off and then back on. My computer comparison came back and I guess I just exited hibernation mode. The frustration came in waves - small wonder De Soto made that comment about sanity.

Fido trotted over to the food bowl giving the sleeping lab a wide berth. If it was any consolation, I’d have a shiny coat after all this. Food, water, and play - those were the only things that got my dog host’s attention. It didn’t understand commands or emotions. I wondered what it could understand.

Thinking about that chew toy, I tried to make a three dimensional image of it in whatever part of this was “my mind.” When I finished, I attempted to push it into the rest of the mind with no luck. Then I imagined it over on the carpet just by the couch.

Fido stood up and started walking toward in that direction. Hope surged inside of me, but I didn’t want to get carried away. I moved the image of the chew toy to over by the wall and the dog stopped and looked around. His anticipation and curiosity surrounded me and he turned and moved over toward the wall.

Success! Or at least it was a start. I had the beginnings of what I wanted to call DOS or the Dog Operating System. Yeah, that was a programming joke. In reality, it was more like a Windows interface. The chew toy image became like a mouse pointer to tell Fido, “Go here.” Using it gave me some measure of mobility. Now, I needed to figure out other images to produce different results. At a mirror attached to a closet, I got my first good look at my host body. Fido was white with brown markings, maybe a year old and far cuter than dangerous looking.

In the back of my mind, I recalled De Soto mocking us and saying how it would take a long time and thought, “Well, up yours, buddy! Maybe you thugs with your black powder rifles looting the New World just weren’t all that swift. In less than a day, I’ve got my dog out and about, because that’s how I roll!”

Moving toward something was good, so I decided to try making Fido move away. I put the image of Blackie with the chew toy at the wall. Fido stopped, but didn’t back away. It needed something more. After another twenty minutes, I fooled the dog into thinking the image growled. Adding an audio component did the trick. I could now make my dog back away from something.

Images and sounds worked. Smells and taste could as well, but I wasn’t sure how I could emulate that at the moment. Like learning how to walk, I was going to need lots of practice. It reminded me of trying to play a computer game using just the keyboard and no joystick. Still, I didn’t have anything to do at the time, so got to work, even though I wasn’t certain what I could do with it. Did I really want to bite my own body?

 Deciding to see if I was limited to things Fido had actually experienced, I started making up stuff. A fake “belly rub” could make the tail wag. I wasn’t sure what that would do for me other than answer the question about whether or not the tail wagged the dog. The baying and barking from when I first awakened in Fido were recycled and I got the impression that he thought he was joining in with another dog.

The person who let us outside wasn’t Dad or the earlier bodyguard. De Soto must have them working in shifts. Circling the yard, I noticed a bird perched on the high privacy fence, watching us. Hernando might be enjoying my new body, but he wasn’t going to let his guard down, so I’d have to be careful about how much I influenced Fido. Would the piece of De Soto still in it “die” if Fido did his best impression of a bird dog? Of course, it made me wonder what happened if my dog dies while I’m in it. De Soto said that a ghost would feel the pain of death, but it was established that I’m not a ghost.

For the moment, the point was moot. I had no way of making my canine host attack something and taking a runner out of the second floor window might not kill the dog even if I wanted to give it a try. If I was desperate enough, I could always find the nearest power cord, once I figured out how to make Fido bite, and make like the cat in that Christmas Vacation movie. I’d keep that for a last chance gamble and I wasn’t quite there yet.

Blackie left me alone, but obviously wanted to be the dominant male. The poodle was skittish and I watched it for a short time looking, to see if Cassandra had been able to figure out how to control her animal, but couldn’t discern anything from her movements.

De Soto kept us in the kitchen that night with a couple of dog gates preventing us from getting anywhere. Fido was enjoying a hearty dinner of what was left after Blackie ate. Cassandra’s poodle was already resting on the newspaper and staring at the light in the living room.

As my host finished up, I projected the chew toy around the room, so I could make sure there were no cameras in the kitchen. There didn’t seem to be any, but I couldn’t be sure. No birds were currently on the sill or the back porch.

I had a window of opportunity to let Cassandra know I was learning something, but did I want to do it? She’s a self-serving bitch if ever there was one. To borrow a dog term, would she roll over on me the first chance she got?

Blackie wouldn’t let me get close to him, so I had to gamble on Von Eckels. I put the image of the chew toy right in front of her had Fido walk in front of her and turn to face her.

Fifi moved out of my way, probably uncertain of what my dog was doing, but I didn’t care about her. I was trying to let her passenger in on my secret.

Under my direction Fido moved in front of her again. I made him wag his tail for good measure and bumped into her like I wanted to play. I did it three more times to make certain she got the message and then went back to lie on the floor away from the newspaper and behind the large kitchen island which would block any view from the windows. At least if Fido went, someone would have to clean up the mess. Yeah I was being petty, but they stuck me inside a damn dog!

Thinking of the usual canine tricks, I worked on the shake hands thing for at least a full hour before I could get Fido sitting on his haunches with a raised paw.

That was about as far as I could get before my host decided it was time for some rest and I blacked out with him.

In the morning, I ate and listened to the housekeeper bitch about Fido pissing on the floor. I got my nose rubbed in it which was pretty bad, but didn’t approach stuff we did to each other for fun back in the Army. At least Fido didn’t crap!

After my disciplining, I hid in the corner behind where Fifi was sleeping. Since I was there, I wanted to try out the whole paw thing I’d been working on last night. Putting the image out of a paw on Fifi’s side, I had Fido reach out and touch her with the left paw. That’s when things got interesting.

I felt Fifi wake up and Cassandra as well.

Her thoughts came through,
“… another miserable day. I don’t think I can take much more of this!”

“Cassandra!”

“Ross? Mike?”

I lost my focus and Fido pulled his paw back. Forcing him to do it again I reconnected.

“Sorry, I’m not very good at this,”
I said keeping the image of Fido’s paw on her side.