K-9 by Rohan Gavin

unadulterated joy. Darkus suddenly imagined him as a puppy, surging forward without limitation, without anxiety or fear – as if the world, however big, couldn’t contain him. The scared, nervous Wilbur was, for now, a figment of the past. Darkus sprinted to keep up with him, watching the erect tail cut effortlessly through the wilderness like the periscope of a fast attack submarine.
    Wilbur appeared on a bluff in the distance, triumph­antly raised his snout to the air again, then veered off to the right, joining the dust track that was now clearly in view, leading into a particularly dark cluster of woods.
    Incredibly, as Darkus crested the bluff, he saw his father two hundred metres ahead on the same track, his distinctive tweed hat and overcoat blowing in the breeze. As if sensing their presence, Knightley turned around and waved, before shouting out:
    ‘Call him off, Doc. And you too!’ His voice carried on the wind.
    ‘Why?!’ Darkus shouted back. ‘What are you doing here?’
    ‘Looking for more prints of course. This is my case, Doc, leave it to me! I promised your mother I wouldn’t let any harm come to you.’
    Wilbur was by this time zeroing in on Knightley.
    ‘Dad – wait – !’
    ‘ There was something I didn’t show you! ’ he shouted hoarsely. ‘Call him off, Doc, for both your sakes!’ Then Knightley turned and ran off into the woods to elude them.
    Wilbur picked up speed to go after him. Darkus froze, then shouted out for fear of losing them both.
    ‘Wilbur! Stop!’
    Wilbur came to a halt, then craned his neck to look at his master, not understanding.
    ‘Wait!’ Darkus ran along the track, out of breath, catching up with him.
    Wilbur’s brow furrowed and his nose twitched impatiently – confused at the conflicting commands.
    ‘I know,’ Darkus said to the mutt. ‘I don’t understand him either.’
    Darkus looked around to discover that they were still very much alone on the Heath. He grabbed a pair of binoculars out of his pocket and trained them down the track and into the woods where his father had just vanished. He adjusted the focus wheel and through the lenses he could just make out his father’s tweed coat moving purposefully between the trees, descending into a dell of some kind.
    Suddenly, the wind picked up, whistling through the landscape, dislodging loose branches and sending waves of leaves rolling along the ground. Darkus lowered his binoculars, watching the air currents race past him through the meadow.
    Wilbur whimpered and his tail sank between his legs. Darkus looked down, confused.
    ‘What is it, boy?’
    Inexplicably, Wilbur let out a soft howl that floated up on the breeze. It was plaintive and sad, but it also sounded distinctly like a warning. For that reason it sent shivers up his master’s spine and set the catastrophiser whirring.
    Darkus pressed his face to the eyecups of the binoculars again, and saw his father’s tweed overcoat moving deeper into the forest and further out of sight. Then, to his horror, Darkus saw something else which made the catastophiser jitter so violently that he had trouble steadying his hands, and felt a film of sweat develop between his skin and the binoculars.
    Something else was in the woods. Something large that was descending into the dell behind his dad. Darkus fumbled with the focus wheel, but couldn’t tell what the thing was, only that it was walking on two legs, and appeared to be a human form.
    ‘Dad!’ Darkus spontaneously called out, lowering the binocs for a moment. But his voice was lost on the howling wind.
    He pressed his eyes to the lenses again, then panned wildly, but his father, and whatever had been following him, was gone .
    Darkus clipped the lead to Wilbur’s collar and set off down the track and into the woods, looping the leather around his clammy hand for fear of it slipping free. He tried to remember his Wing Chun breathing exercises but they had no effect, and his heart felt like it had