They made it a couple of yards before she noticed Atlas was walking funny. She turned to look him over, bending to run her hands over his chest and shoulder.
“Oh no.” She’d thought the blood splashed across his chest belonged to the man. But as she ran her hands through his fur, her fingers found a gouge in his flesh.
Sirens approached in the distance and two men came running from the main building. David’s partners.
“What happened?” Forte skidded to a stop next to her and Atlas gave a warning growl. Rojas continued on past, toward David and the intruder.
“Easy,” she murmured to Atlas. Not good if he went for one of the trainers. Not good. They needed them. “He needs help. He dove through the trees over there and must’ve gotten torn up on his way through.”
“Seriously?” Forte started to kneel but halted and straightened as he took in the dog’s posture. “Okay, Lyn, he’s not going to make this easy. I need to talk you through this.”
“What do I need to do?” Too much time was passing and Atlas was hurt.
“Kneel down and get your arms around him. Don’t lift him. Don’t hurt yourself. Just hold him. Talk to him. Let him know it’s okay for me to take him from you. If you don’t, he’s not going to let me touch him.”
It wasn’t what she’d been expecting. But she didn’t waste time waiting for an explanation. She squatted in the grass next to Atlas, murmuring soothing nonsense phrases as she did. His growl quieted but he didn’t take his gaze off Forte. Copying what David had done the day before, she wrapped her arms around Atlas’s chest and hindquarters. Her shoulder ached but she ignored it. Instead, she kept talking to Atlas, coaxing him to calm and listen to her.
When his posture relaxed, Forte kneeled next to them both, nice and slow.
“It’s okay. He’s going to help.” She kissed Atlas’s head, whispered against his fur. “Good boy. Good boy.”
It wasn’t what the dog was used to hearing, but his ears turned back in her direction. He was listening.
Forte got his arms around Atlas, keeping up a steady soothing monologue of his own. The dog remained still with the handoff, heavy panting the only sign of his distress.
“Let’s get him to the main building. We’ve got a triage room.” Forte’s words were grim. “Grab the phone out of my back pocket. Vet’s on speed dial.”
Embarrassed, Lyn fumbled at his backside as he strode across the field. “Which…?”
“Left cheek, my friend. We’re friends now, right?”
A laugh slipped out before she had too much time to think. One more fumble and unintentional grope and she had the phone. It was easy to find the vet on speed dial. She was in the top five favorites on the front screen and labeled as “Vet.”
Easiest thing to do in the last twenty-four hours.
*
Cruz strode through the doors of the triage room they kept on site. Atlas lay on the table and Doc Medicci was shaving away the fur around a nasty slice across his shoulder.
Forte stood by, helping with the now calm dog.
And there was Lyn.
He zeroed in on her. “Is any of that blood yours?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her gaze locked on Atlas. “He went right through the trees and must’ve tore himself up on a branch. It didn’t even slow him down.”
“It’s not the first time we’ve seen something like this.” He was concerned. Of course he was. But the intensity and prey drive these dogs had resulted in accidents like these in the past. In this case, Atlas had moved to protect Lyn.
Currently, Cruz was fairly overwhelmed with the need to take care of her himself.
“Relatively superficial this time.” Medicci didn’t even glance up from her work. “I’m not finding any other damage. I’m going to put on a dissolving suture. Keep it clean and restrict him to light exercise until it heals. If it gets red or irritated, call me.”
In short order, Atlas was back on his feet.
“Go get cleaned up, Lyn. He’s fine now and you’re swaying on your feet.” Forte’s tone was gentle, not angry.
Cruz caught Forte’s attention and his friend gave him a brief nod.
“Let’s go.” Cruz reached out for Lyn and herded her toward the door, careful not to touch her.
Did she realize she was shaking?
“The man. He was the same from yesterday.” Lyn’s voice trembled. She took a breath and the rest came out in a rush. Atlas padded over and leaned against her leg. “He had a ski mask on but I recognized his grin. The way he looked at me. It was the same guy, I swear.”