Chapter 4: The Name Beneath the Floor
The alarm screamed through the motel hallway.
Red lights flashed against the walls as doors opened one after another and frightened faces appeared.
Rex stood in front of me, blood still staining his muzzle.
I looked down at the floor.
The maintenance hatch remained open.
The deputy had his weapon drawn.
“Back up,” he whispered.
I didn't.
Instead, I crouched beside Rex and wiped the blood from his muzzle with my sleeve.
“Did you bite someone?””
Rex stared into the darkness beneath the floor.
Then he moved.
His front paw disappeared through the opening.
He scratched twice.
I shined my flashlight inside.
There was a narrow service tunnel beneath the motel, barely wide enough for a man to crawl through.
The deputy grabbed my shoulder.
“You don't understand. We need to leave.””
I looked at him.
“You're the one who told me the truth mattered.””
“I said that before I realized Kane knew you were here.””
“Then explain why someone was hiding under my room.””
His mouth tightened.
“He wasn't hiding from you.””
“Who was he?””
The deputy looked toward the hallway.
“He was running from Kane.””
A police cruiser stopped outside.
Doors slammed.
Boots rushed toward the motel entrance.
The deputy's face went pale.
“It's too late.””
“For what?””
He looked at Rex.
“For him.””
“Who?””
Before he could answer, the lights went out again.
This time, nobody screamed.
The entire motel seemed to hold its breath.
Then came three gunshots.
One.
Two.
Three.
They came from downstairs.
The deputy shoved me against the wall.
“Stay here!””
He ran.
Rex immediately followed him.
I went after both.
We reached the lobby just as the front windows exploded inward.
Glass scattered across the floor.
Two officers dropped behind the front desk.
Someone outside fired again.
I pulled Rex behind cover.
The deputy crawled toward the overturned reception desk.
“Don't shoot!”” he yelled.
A voice answered from outside.
“Then give me the dog.””
Rex heard it.
His body stiffened.
The deputy looked at me.
“That's Kane.””
Another bullet punched through the wall.
The motel manager screamed from behind the counter.
Rex suddenly broke away.
“Rex!””
He charged through the side hallway.
I ran after him.
We burst through a back door and found ourselves behind the motel.
An alley stretched between two buildings.
Rex stopped.
He stared toward the darkness.
I followed his gaze.
A man stood at the far end of the alley.
Tall.
Gray coat.
No weapon visible.
He had one hand raised.
“Rex.””
The dog took one step forward.
Then another.
I raised my weapon.
The man didn't move.
“Who are you?””
He smiled sadly.
“Someone he remembers.””
Rex began whining.
The man's eyes filled with tears.
“Hello, old soldier.””
Rex pulled against his collar.
Hard.
I'd never seen him react to anyone that way.
The man took a slow step forward.
“You don't remember me,” he said to me.
“But he does.””
“What was your name?””
The man hesitated.
Then he answered.
“Daniel Cross.””
I felt something inside my head shift.
The name hit me like a distant explosion.
Daniel Cross.
I knew it.
I didn't know how.
But I knew it.
The man reached into his pocket.
I aimed at his chest.
“Slowly.””
He pulled out a photograph.
He held it toward me.
It showed three soldiers.
Me.
Daniel.
And another man standing beside us.
I stared at the photograph.
My hands began to shake.
“That isn't possible.””
Daniel nodded.
“That is exactly what I told myself.””
The third man was wearing a helmet.
His face was partly hidden.
But the uniform was unmistakable.
He was one of the men I had been told died six years earlier.
Daniel lowered the photograph.
“His name was Mason.””
I looked at him.
“Mason died.””
“No.””
Daniel's voice was barely audible.
“Mason disappeared.””
A siren wailed in the distance.
Then Rex suddenly turned his head.
His ears went rigid.
Daniel's expression changed.
“He's here.””
“Who?””
“Kane.””
A black SUV appeared at the end of the street.
Daniel stepped backward.
“You need to trust your dog.””
“What does that mean?””
“He knows where Mason is.””
The SUV accelerated.
Daniel ran.
I grabbed Rex.
We sprinted in the opposite direction.
Behind us, tires screamed.
Bullets tore into the alley walls.
Rex dragged me toward an old warehouse.
I followed.
We slipped through a half-open loading door.
The warehouse smelled like rust, oil, and dust.
Rex immediately stopped.
He sniffed the concrete.
Then he turned left.
I followed him through rows of abandoned equipment until we reached a small office.
The door was locked.
Rex scratched it.
I kicked it open.
Inside was a desk.
A computer.
And dozens of photographs covering the walls.
Every photograph showed Rex.
Rex in Afghanistan.
Rex during training.
Rex recovering from surgery.
Rex beside me.
My name was written beneath every picture.
But there was another name written beside mine.
*MASON VALE.*
I stared at it.
Mason.
The man everyone had told me was dead.
A red light blinked on the computer.
One video file.
I clicked it.
A man's face appeared.
Older.
Beaten.
But alive.
My heart stopped.
Mason looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this,” he said, “they finally brought Rex back.””
The video ended.
Rex sat beside me.
The warehouse door slammed open.
May you like
Kane stepped inside.
And he wasn't alone.
