Things that go Bite in the Night ~
by Cheryl


"I mean it! I really hate it, Roy!" Johnny slouched back in his seat and stared out the squad's passenger window.

Roy rolled his eyes. "Johnny, we all hate working on Halloween, why is this year different?"

The young paramedic shrugged. "I…I don't know. I just have a bad feeling, ya know?"

"This 'bad feeling' wouldn't happen to be named Chester Kelly, would it?" Roy chuckled. He earned himself a glare from his partner.

"Very funny, Roy. He won't get me this year." Johnny smiled smugly.

Roy snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Humph, shows what you know," Johnny groused as he stared out the window at the LA nighttime skyline.

Roy bit back a response and returned his attention to the road ahead. He sighed deeply, feeling the fatigue all over his body. It was three days before Halloween, yet it seemed the Halloween pranksters had gotten an early start. All day long they'd been run ragged, and the night wasn't turning out any better.

Johnny's paranoia wasn't helping either. Every year, Chet's special Halloween pranks on the dark-haired paramedic seemed to top anything dreamed of the year before. After last year's constant barrage, this year Johnny was already jumping at his shadow.

Roy stepped lightly on the brakes, turning the squad left and slowly backing up the station driveway. He parked, jumped out and followed Johnny towards the dorm. The blonde paramedic abruptly sidestepped his partner as Johnny stopped suddenly, his eyes darting around the doorway to the dorm.

"What?" Roy asked, annoyed.

Johnny continued to scan the doorway silently.

"Johnny, what is it?" Roy whispered more intently.

Johnny slouched, and slowly walked through the doorway, all the while looking around him through the darkness. "Nothin'."

"You're gonna land at the funny farm if you don't get a hold of your paranoia." Roy followed behind, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Who's paranoid?” Johnny sat down hard on his bunk.

"At least it'd be quiet in here," Cap's groggy voice silenced both paramedics. "You two wanna keep it down?"

"Sorry, Cap," Roy replied, lying back on his bed.

"Man," Johnny complained, "how am I ever gonna make it through the next three days?"

***************************************51****************************************

Johnny groaned, the bright lights of the dorm glaring in his face as the dispatcher's voice echoed through the station.

"Squad 51, man down, fire access road 270, five miles past the SR 87 junction. Fire access road 270 five miles past the State Route 87 junction. Time out 0240."

Hank's hand fumbled across the CB radio as he grabbed the mike. "Squad 51, 10-4, KMG 365." He set down the mike and flopped back into bed.

"Have fun, guys," Chet teased before rolling over in bed and pulling up his blanket.

"Shut up, Chet," Johnny answered, trotting towards the door while pulling his turnout suspenders over his shoulders.

Roy followed flipping off the dorm light and making his way to the squad. He sat down and pulled the squad door shut.

"Roy, why do the two-thirty in the morning calls have to be in the middle of nowhere?"

Roy shrugged, flipping on the reds as he pulled out of the station.

***************************************51****************************************

Ten minutes later, Roy turned off the pavement, following a twisting gravel road through the dark woods. "He should be along here somewhere." Roy scanned the roadside, searching for their victim.

"Yeah," Johnny responded, peering into the darkness.

Roy pulled the squad to a stop and stepped out, looking around. He slowly walked to the front of the vehicle and waited, as Johnny slammed his door shut and joined the blond paramedic.

Together, the two men struggled to see through the trees and the pitch-blackness that surrounded them. The dirt road was narrow, with a steep slope leading into the thick woods on one side, and a rocky hillside to the other.

"There he is," Johnny pointed. He trotted out of the realm of the squad's headlights, the darkness swallowing him.

Roy strained to hear his partner, the faint scrambling of Johnny's boots down the gravel embankment the only indication of the dark-haired paramedic's location. "Johnny? Johnny!" Roy rolled his eyes in mild irritation as he grabbed the multiple pieces of equipment they'd need...all by himself.

He cautiously left the security of the circle of light from the squad and picked his way down the slope to join his partner and the victim, cursing under his breath as he stumbled over a tree branch. "What's going on, Johnny?" Roy set the equipment down, and struggled to see though the darkness. He shook his head in frustration. "We need some light, I'm gonna grab some flashlights."

He ran back to the vehicle, quickly locating two flashlights. Roy slammed the compartment door closed and paused, looking around. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he felt like he was being watched. Roy shook off the feeling. Get it together, DeSoto, you're as bad as your partner.

Roy returned and held the light for Johnny, who took the victim's BP and pulse, then checked the man's pupils. The young paramedic shook his head. "Its all normal, but he's not responding to me at all. He's just...sitting there."

Roy handed one light to Johnny before reaching for the biophone. He quickly opened the lid and clicked the antenna into place. "Rampart, this is Squad 51." He momentarily lowered the receiver and looked around, noting the wailing of the ambulance siren in the distance. “Wonder who called this in?”

Johnny shrugged. “Dunno. This is weird.”

"Go ahead, 51," Dr. Mike Morton responded.

"Rampart we have a male, approximately 35 years old. He's in a catatonic state, with no response to verbal stimuli. No apparent injuries. Stand by for vitals." Roy reached out, taking a slip of paper from Johnny. He tilted it towards the squad's headlights and read it aloud. "Rampart, vitals are BP 120/80, pulse 70, respirations 15."

"51, continue to monitor victim and bring him in immediately," Morton responded.

"10-4, Rampart." Roy set down the biophone receiver and looked up, watching the ambulance pull to a stop behind the squad.

Johnny and Roy carefully settled the victim in the stretcher and loaded the catatonic man in the ambulance.

As Johnny reached for the back of the ambulance, he felt Roy's hand on his arm. "What?"

Roy smiled. "Your turn to drive, Junior."

Johnny chuckled. "Oh, yeah." He stepped back as Roy jumped in the back of the ambulance.

The young paramedic handed the biophone and drug box up to Roy and backed away. "See you at Rampart." He stepped back as one of the attendants slammed the ambulance doors shut.

Johnny watched as the ambulance pulled away, siren wailing. He looked up, taking in the bright stars. Living in the city, Johnny rarely got to see the clear night sky in all its brilliance. He took a deep breath, listening, as the night sounds of the surrounding woods came to him. He sighed, turning and slowly walking back towards the squad's red taillights. The crickets quieted as his feet crunched down the gravel road.

His attention piqued, Johnny's breath came a bit faster. The sudden silence around him was strangely disquieting, but not half as disturbing as the low rumbling sound he thought he'd heard and instant before. Johnny sighed, dismissing his random feelings. He'd gone no more than two steps when the noise caught his attention again, this time much louder.

Johnny stiffened. Slowly he turned around, his mind registering the distinct sound of a low growl.

"Oh, boy," his quiet voice shook slightly as he stared at the reflective eyes of a large wild dog.

Johnny's brown eyes shifted from one side of the road to the other as the bushes in the surrounding ditches rustled.

"Ohhhhh boyyy..." His heart pounded against his chest as four more canines stepped out onto the deserted road.

The five dogs fanned out, slowly forming a half circle and advancing on the young paramedic.

Their growling intensified, and through the dim setting moonlight, Johnny could see the hair on their backs standing straight up. Not turning around, he slowly continued towards the squad, his eyes never leaving the leading alpha dog. He'd attack first…I think… Johnny tried to remember what his grandfather had taught him about the packs of wolves that occasionally roamed across the border and into northern Montana. At least...I hope so... He glanced at the others, his gaze abruptly snapping back to the lead dog as it crouched low, its growls intensified by sporadic barks.

How far am I from the squad? He considering turning and running for it, but immediately dismissed the idea. The dogs would be on him before he made it three steps.

He continued his slow backward movement, noticing that for each step he took, the dogs took one, too. Never getting any closer, but never getting any farther away from him, either.

His heart leapt as he abruptly bumped into the rear fender of the squad. He flattened his palms against the cool metal finding comfort in it. Just a bit further... He edged along the back, reaching the corner of the vehicle.

He slowly moved along the side of the squad, aiming for the cab. Only a few more feet. He jerked to a stop, a cold sweat popping to his brow as a deep growl came from behind him. Shit!

Johnny turned, his back flat against the squad. He looked at the lone dog standing by the cab door, less than two feet from him. His glance shifted to the other five as they slowly advanced.

It happened so fast, Johnny didn't know what hit him. One moment he was standing against the squad, the next he was staggering as the dogs attacked.

Johnny fought with every shred of strength he had. He kicked one, sending it staggering backwards, and shook his arm, struggling to shake off another that had latched onto his turnout sleeve. Pain lanced through his calf as another dog bit down hard into his leg.

He lurched forward, giving the pack the opening they needed. The dog on his arm relentlessly pulled, while the others harried his legs and backside. Johnny fell to his knees, still fighting in vain against his attackers.

The pain was from so many sources that Johnny could no longer identify them. His rational mind shut down, giving in to the animalistic instinct of survival. He swung his fists and struggled to kick at anything that moved around him.

Hot breath, stinking of carrion, assaulted his nose, encouraging him to fight harder. A hoarse cry escaped his throat as sharp teeth sank into his neck. Oddly, he felt a cold nose press into the base of his skull.

Johnny twisted free of the animals grip, feeling the flesh of his neck tear. A deafening boom echoed around him, followed by another. Suddenly the attacking stopped, replaced by silence and a heavy dead weight resting across his legs.

Johnny gradually became aware of footsteps crunching towards him. A touch to his chest evoked an instinctive reaction and the injured paramedic swung his arm weakly.

"Whoa, easy there, son, you're safe. Can you hear me? You're safe."

Johnny slowly opened one painful eye, making out the fuzzy image of an old man leaning over him, one hand on Johnny's chest, and the other gripping a lever action 30/30. A flashlight sat next to the old man's side, the light bouncing off the reflective strips of Johnny's turnout. The man set down the gun, and using both hands, shifted the dead dog's body off of Johnny's legs.

"...hurts..." the injured paramedic mumbled, thrashing weakly. Johnny blinked hard, trying to clear the fog from his head. "...help...Roy, the department..."

The man looked over at a large black box that was sitting next to the back bumper of the squad. He stood up and walked over, quickly throwing the lid open. He hastily slammed the lid shut and carried it back to Johnny's side.

A growling from the bushes caused him to quickly reach for his gun. He lifted the rifle, cocking the handle in one smooth motion. While he'd killed two of the dogs, there still were four more out there, smelling the injured paramedic's blood. And if any more catch the scent... the old man shook off the thought and waited a moment before turning his attention back to Johnny. He slowly released the hammer on the gun and set it beside him.

The man pulled out all the bandage materials he could find, doing his best to stem the blood that flowed freely from the paramedic's body.

He looked around, assessing the situation. The man grabbed his rifle and backed away from Johnny. He opened the squad door, squinting as the bright cab light snapped on. He grabbed the CB mike and paused, unsure what to say. He lifted the mike. "Hello? Hello?”

"This is a fire department frequency. Please clear the channel immediately."

He sighed. "Look, the guy that drives this truck has been mauled really bad by a pack of wild dogs. This is a fire department truck and he's a firefighter." He slammed his fist on the steering wheel in frustration at the silence that greeted him. "Dammit, isn't that reason enough for me to be talking to you?"

There was another long silence before a different voice spoke to him. "This is the watch commander. Can you identify the vehicle for me?"

He looked around. "It's...it's not a fire engine, but smaller, like a truck, but not a fire truck. Like a...a pickup truck."

"What's the number, do you know?"

"Number...number..." he muttered to himself, looking around the cab. He paused, thinking. "Number! Of course! Think, Ben!" He backed out, squinting at the side of the door, the gold on red paint barely visible.

Ben jumped back into the cab. "51! It says Rescue Squad 51."

"Okay, sir," the watch commander replied. "Just sit tight, we have someone on the way. How badly injured is the paramedic?"

Ben glanced back out at the supine form of Johnny. "He's bleeding pretty bad. I bandaged his wounds as best I could, but he needs a hospital. I think I could carry him down the road to my truck and bring him in, if you want me to."

"No, don't move him. Someone'll be there soon," the watch commander immediately replied.

"Well, you boys better hurry. I only managed to kill two of the dogs and there's at least four more of 'em in the woods."

"Okay, just hang in there, we're on our way."

Ben dropped the mike and quickly went back to Johnny's side. The paramedic groaned, his eyes fluttering.

"C...cold…"

"I know, son, your buddies are comin'. You just lie still, okay?"

"...kay..."

Ben settled back and waited. He'd spent his life enjoying the silence of the night forest, but tonight there was no pleasure in the quiet. He couldn't hear anything, but Ben knew the dogs weren't far away. They'd tasted the injured firefighter's blood, they wouldn't venture far.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ben tilted his head as a faint wail of a siren echoed thought the trees. "Hurry up..." After a few moments, he sighed in relief as another vehicle, an exact duplicate of the one he sat by, rolled to a stop, a sheriff department's car right behind it.

Two men jumped out of the squad and quickly grabbed their equipment as two sheriff deputies walked around from behind the squad, shotguns in hand.

One of the deputies looked down at Ben. “Where are the wild dogs?"

Ben pointed at the brush-covered ditch. "Over there. They rustle the branches every once in a while, but they haven't come back out."

The two deputies spread out, intently watching the surrounding forest for any sign of trouble as the two paramedics trotted over to their injured comrade.

"Johnny?" Jim Stuart's jaw dropped at the sight of his battered friend. Almost immediately, a mask of professionalism fell over his face as he began assessing the injured man.

Jim's partner, Pete, peeled back the bandage on Johnny's neck, shaking his head. He replaced the blood soaked bandage and pressed down firmly. He glanced up at Jim. "Perforated jugular." Pete shifted his glanced to Ben. "Sir? Can you keep pressure on this for me?"

Ben nodded and placed his hand over the bandage, grimacing at the warm sticky feel.

Jim quickly grabbed the BP cuff and got a reading. "90/60." He reached for the IV supplies as Pete grabbed the biophone, quickly setting it up. "Rampart, this is Squad 45."

"Go ahead, 45," Dr. Morton's voice replied.

"Rampart, we have John Gage here, he's been mauled by a pack of wild dogs. He has multiple bites and lacerations on the legs, abdomen, arms and neck. We suspect he has a perforated jugular. We've applied bandages to the wounds and he is on 12 liters O2. Vitals are BP 90/60, pulse 110, respirations 27."

"45's, start an IV with Ringer's Lactate wide open, continue monitoring vitals and transport immediately."

"10-4, Rampart." Pete dropped the biophone receiver and reached for the drug box, pulling out the IV supplies. He tore open the packaging for another bandage and passed it to Ben. "Place this one over that one and keep that pressure on."

Jack took the bandage and quickly lifted his hand, laying it over the blood-soaked one before once more placing his hand over the wound.

"Where's that ambulance?" Jim muttered as he cut away the shredded remains of Johnny's coat sleeve.

As if on cue, a wailing siren sounded in the distance as the ambulance turned off onto the fire access road.

"It's coming." Pete handed the IV set to his partner.

A rustling in the bushes caught all their attentions as the two deputies cocked their weapons simultaneously.

"Damn things," Ben muttered, staring at the woods.

"What are those things, anyway?" Jim asked as he adjusted the flow of Johnny's IV.

"Dog wolf hybrids. Would you believe some people breed those things, then turn 'em loose?" Jack shook his head in disgust. "This ain't the first time I've seen 'em. Probably won't be the last either. Domesticated, they make great watch dogs, but these wild ones are mean SOB's, aggressive, strong, and savvy."

One of the deputies nodded in agreement. "We've had reports of them before, have even shot a few. The department's arrested a few people guilty of turning them loose, but that doesn't stop the others, or the dogs that are already free. They really wreck havoc on the wildlife too."

The deputy turned his attention back to the woods, as the ambulance pulled to a stop behind the sheriff department patrol car.

"Get over here fast!" Jim shouted, waving at the attendants.

Quickly, the five men placed Johnny on a stretcher and carried him to the ambulance.

***************************************51****************************************

Jim stared down at the face of his friend as the ambulance sped towards Rampart Hospital. Dammit Gage! You better be okay! He reached out, grabbing Johnny's wrist and taking his pulse.

Johnny moaned, his eyes fluttering open. He looked around, painful groans escaping his lips. "Ahh…"

"Easy, buddy, lie still." Jim stared down at him, trying to look confident.

"St…Stuart?" Johnny's brown eyes fixed on the tall paramedic.

"Yeah, it's me." Jim smiled slightly.

"Wha…dogs…" Johnny struggled to remember what had happened to him. "Attacked me!" He thrashed weakly, trying to sit up.

"Hey! Take it easy, man!" Jim pushed down on his friend's shoulders, trying to keep him lying down. "Johnny! Keep still! You're okay! You're safe, man!"

Johnny's struggling ceased. "S…safe?"

Stuart smiled. "Yeah, safe."

The injured paramedic's head rolled to one side, his eyes drooping. "Safe."

Jim watched his friend lapse once more into unconsciousness. "You're safe, buddy."

***************************************51****************************************

Roy stood at the end of the ER hallway as Johnny's gurney was wheeled toward Treatment Room 1. He clenched his jaw at the site of his partner, still and covered in blood-soaked bandages. Roy joined the group of people walking briskly down the hallway. He looked up at Morton. "Doc?"

"Not now, Roy," Morton snapped, helping push the gurney thought the treatment room door.

Roy stopped short of entering the room and stared as the door closed in front of him. The image of Johnny, bleeding and unconscious burned in his memory. Slowly, Roy backed away from the treatment room and leaned against the opposite wall, his whole body numb.

A few minutes later, Dixie exited the treatment room, pausing as she regarded the weary paramedic in front of her. "Roy," she walked up to him, smiling slightly. "Why don't you go sit down?"

"How is he?" Roy looked down at her, not moving.

"He's hanging on, Roy. He'll be going up to surgery soon." She grabbed his arm, gently pulling. "Come on, come sit down, okay?"

"Dixie's right," Jim exited the treatment room, Pete right behind him. They walked along behind Dixie and Roy.

Roy sat down hard, shaking his head in disbelief. “What the hell happened out there? Everything was fine when I left.” He looked away, whispering. “Dammit. There was a moment…when we first got there, I could've sworn someone…something was watching us. But I had just gone off on Johnny about being paranoid earlier, so I just let it go. I dismissed the whole thing. I just…I can't believe it.”

“Roy, you can't blame yourself, man,” Jim responded, the others nodding in agreement.

Roy looked up, staring at the treatment room door, his expression abruptly turning quizzical. “He knew,” the blond paramedic whispered.

“Knew?” Dixie's brow wrinkled in confusion. “Knew what?”

”He knew this would happen,” Roy explained, shaking his head. “Earlier tonight, he told me he had a bad feeling about this Halloween. I thought he was just being paranoid.”

“Roy, he was being paranoid.” Jim reasoned. “You know how Johnny gets. This was coincidental.”

Roy looked up, an unconvinced look on his face. “Are you sure?”

Deep down, Jim wasn't sure. Not a superstitious man, Jim none-the-less had real problems with these kinds of coincidences. "Yes," he lied, surprised at the firmness of his voice, "I'm sure, Roy."

***************************************51****************************************

Roy twiddled his thumbs in irritation, and glanced at his watch. How can 15 minutes seem like 15 hours? Roy looked up, standing as the treatment room door opened. He quickly walked down the hallway and met Johnny's stretcher halfway, Jim and Pete right behind him.

“Doc? How is he?” Roy walked along next to Johnny's stretcher.

“He's stabilized, Roy, and that's all we can tell you for now. He's on his way to surgery. Someone'll come talk to you as soon as we know something.” Morton replied.

Roy nodded and looked down at his unconscious friend's face. “Johnny? Hang in there partner, you're gonna be okay.” He stopped abruptly watching as the stretcher and entourage entered the elevator. Roy locked eyes with Morton. “Take care of him, Doc.”

Morton nodded as the doors slid shut in front of him.

Roy stared at the doors silently. A touch to his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts.

“We have to get going, Roy,” Pete said softly. “Keep us posted, okay?”

Roy nodded, smiling. “Okay. Thanks you guys.”

Jim nodded. “Sure, Roy.” He turned away, following his partner.

Roy stepped back from the elevator. Guess I better call the station and give them an update. He headed for the payphone. He'd called Captain Stanley right after the call had come into the base station, promising to call back when he had any news. Stanley had authorized him to stay at the hospital for now, until a replacement could be called in and the squad returned to the station.

The worried paramedic picked up the receiver and dialed the station's phone number.

***************************************51****************************************

Roy glanced at his watch, shifting restlessly in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Three hours? How much longer? Deep down, he knew such extensive injuries could take time to repair, but that rationale didn't stem his impatience any. He stood up, pacing the room for what seemed like the hundredth time since he'd moved from the ER waiting area to the one closest to Johnny's OR.

Roy paused at the coffee station and poured himself a cup. He sipped it, wincing at the taste. He grabbed the sugar shaker, quickly adding a generous dose to his cup. He sipped again, still frowning.

The restless paramedic once more glanced at his watch. Three minutes later than the last time you looked, DeSoto. Roy chastised himself. He drained his coffee cup and tossed it in the trash before once more resuming his pacing.

I wish Joanne were here… Roy sighed. He hadn't even called her since this whole thing had happened. Not that it would do any good anyway; Joanne and the kids were in Sacramento visiting her sister. Roy'd decided not to even call her until he knew Johnny was going to be okay. And he is gonna be okay, Roy reaffirmed to himself, pushing away any feelings of doubt he might have. He is going to be okay.

***************************************51****************************************

“Roy? Roy, wake up.” Morton shook the paramedic's shoulder gently at first, then with more insistence.

Roy jerked awake and looked up at the doctor, his blue eyes groggy. 'What? Johnny?”

Morton nodded, settling in the chair next to him. “He's out of surgery. It was a long haul to repair the damage done, but I think he's gonna be fine.”

Roy grinned, his tired eyes brightening. “He is? That's great!”

Morton graced Roy with a rare smile. “Yeah, it is. You can see him in a bit when he's settled in a room. He'll still be recovering from the anesthesia, though, so I wouldn't expect him to be too aware, okay?” He stood up, and headed for the elevator. Roy's voice abruptly stopped him.

“Doc?”

Mike turned. “Yeah?”

Roy stared at him, a genuine look of appreciation on his face. “Doc, I…thanks, I mean it.”

Morton just stared back for a moment before curtly nodding. “You're welcome. Just try to keep that partner of yours out of trouble in the future.”

Roy chuckled. “Believe me, Doc, if I could, I sure would.”

Morton smiled back for a moment before walking away.

***************************************51****************************************

“Roy!” Johnny grinned at his partner as the blond paramedic walked into his room. “How are ya?” Although horse, the young paramedic's voice was bright.

Roy smiled, amazed at the difference three days of recovery had made in his partner. “I'm fine. How are you?”

”Feelin' better,” Johnny nodded, wincing as he jostled his stitched neck. “Wish I could get outta here, though.”

Roy chuckled. “Be a patient patient, partner.”

Johnny flashed a mock frown at the blond paramedic. “Oh, good one, Roy,” he answered sarcastically. He sobered. “Did they ever find the rest of those dogs that attacked me?”

Roy shook his head. “Not for sure. The forest rangers tracked them once it was light, but lost their trail in the wilderness. They found more tracks, but there's no way to know if they were from the actual attackers, or another pack roaming around up there.” Roy shifted his weight uncomfortably.

Johnny watched his partner for a moment. “What?”

“What, what?” Roy looked evenly back.

“What's buggin' you?”

Roy sighed. “Johnny, remember when you were with the victim and I left get the flashlights?"

Johnny thought a second. “Yeah, why?”

”Right before I left the squad, I felt like something was watching us.” He shrugged, “I just dismissed it as paranoia, but it must've been those damn dogs.” Roy looked around for a moment before his gaze settled on the injured paramedic. “I'm sorry, Johnny.”

The young paramedic thought for a moment. “Sorry for what?”

“For not listening to my gut instinct. For…for not knowing.”

“Roy,” Johnny shook his head, his left eyebrow arching, “you didn't know.”

”I did,” Roy insisted. “I ignored my instincts, and you got hurt.”

“This isn't your fault, Roy.” Johnny countered. “How many times have we gone into spooky situations and you've ignored your instincts in order to do your job? I mean, let's face it, Roy, if we listened to our instincts all the time, we'd never run into a burning building, would we?" Johnny shrugged, "I don't know about you, but there have been plenty of times when the smoke's been so thick I couldn't see, that I'd swear someone was following me.” Johnny's mouth quirked in a crooked smile.

“Yeah,” Roy admitted. “Me too.”

“But we never let it stop us, did we?” Johnny's half smile suddenly encompassed his entire mouth.

Roy sighed, eyeing his partner. “No,” he paused. “When did you get so smart?”

Johnny chuckled, wincing as his neck and sore body protested the movement. “I've always been. You've just been too busy being the senior partner to notice.”

Roy snorted. “Yeah, that must be it.”

Johnny's smile faded as he shook his head. “Man, those things were spooky.” He glanced up at his partner. “I mean when I looked at the lead male, I could see him thinking, ya know? That was just…freaky.” He shuddered.

“No more freaky than your premonition.” Roy responded quietly.

Johnny stared hard at his partner. “Premonition?”

Roy looked evenly back. “Yeah, you said something bad was gonna happen to you.”

”Oh, yeah,” Johnny nodded, remembering. He arched his eyebrow. “Wow, that is weird.” A questioning look popped up on his face. “I thought you didn't believe in that stuff, Roy. I thought I,” he splayed his hand across his chest, “was the superstitious one.”

Roy shrugged. “You are.” He grinned. ”I never said I didn't believe in the unexplainable. I don't search for my future in a crystal ball, Johnny, but this is a little too coincidental, even for me.”

Johnny nodded. “Yeah.” He grinned at his partner mischievously. “Happy Halloween, Roy.”

Roy just laughed back. “Happy Halloween, Johnny.”

***********************************THE END…BOO!********************************

Well, this was supposed to be a Halloween story…but considering I didn't get the inspiration until October 27th, then got busy, then lost the story on my disk drive, then started school then…well, LOL!

The idea for this story is based in real life, by the way. My father encountered a wild hybrid dog dear hunting in 2000. It stood about as tall as my dad's waist (he's six feet tall). Luckily my dad and the dog went their separate ways, and nothing happened, but according to the state, that isn't always so.

Thanks for continuing to pester me about this story, Tig! :)

Thanks for the beta read, MJ! :)

Thanks so much to everyone in the late night silly chat session that inspired this idea in the first place! Here ya go, ladies! Enjoy! :)

Cheryl ~