Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines

C.8

The pager beeped at 5:06 a.m. as text crossed the tiny screen.

Kate opened her eyes. It was still dark The pager lying on the nightstand on her side of the bed was beeping. Her eyes went to the luminous numbers on the alarm clock. It was practically the middle of the night. The best part. The last hour of sleep before she had to get up to go to work.

But it was Saturday. "Dammit," she muttered under her breath.

She grabbed the pager and squinted at the illuminated screen. The message: a.n.i.m.a.l… e.m.e.r.g.e.n.c.y. scrolled across the display, repeating the same two words. The alarm system at the clinic was keyed to noise. If the animals got upset and started to make a racket it might mean that something was seriously wrong with one of them. And Kate was nothing if not a conscientious animal doctor.

She shut off the pager and got out of bed. Scott stirred and reached out a hand to her.

"What's going on?" he mumbled, still mostly asleep.

"I've got to go to the clinic," Kate said, pulling underwear out of the dresser. "It's an emergency."

She pulled off her nightshirt and hurriedly put on bra and panties, then got a shirt and slacks from the closet.

Scott got up on one elbow and looked at the clock. "It's five in the morning."

"I'll be back before you're up," Kate said, pulling on her slacks and tucking in her shirt. She stepped into her shoes and half stumbled, half hopped over to the bed. She leaned down and gave him a kiss.

Scott lay back, then turned over and was sound asleep by the time Kate grabbed a light jacket and headed out the door.

Early morning work traffic had already started to pick up as Kate drove the two miles over to the clinic, but it took her only a few minutes.

She'd gotten rid of her lime green VW bug six months ago when Scott moved in, so when she was on animal business she used the clinic's Toyota Tundra pickup with its tan cap and the Emery logo on the side. It was the only sensible solution because she sometimes made commercial calls, mostly to pet stores, and a few times to farms outside the valley.

It was satisfying work, most of the time. Animals were a lot more straightforward than people. They might be vicious sometimes, but they were always honest and up front. Especially the dogs. You always knew where you stood with them.

She parked in front and as soon as she got out of the truck she could hear the racket in the kennel, and her gut tightened. The last time this happened some junkie had broken into the place looking for drugs. The cops had shown up just ahead of Kate and had found the guy passed out in the reception area. Stoned on something. The dogs had gone wild.

She should have called the cops, but she had her cell phone and if need be 911 would dispatch a unit out here within minutes.

Kate let herself in through the front door, locking it behind her. She flipped on the lights and headed to the back. The dogs were barking like mad.

"Cool it, guys, it's just me," Kate said, heading down the hall to the supply room and kennel.

She pushed through the frosted glass doors, flipped on the lights, and tossed her keys and cell phone atop the file cabinet Turning, she spotted the jimmied supply cabinet that had obviously been rummaged.

"Great. Junkies," she said, walking over to check out what was missing. An empty Torbutrol bottle was lying on the floor. She bent down to pick it up and spotted a splash of blood.

A trail of blood led across the room to the shadows in a corner. Surgical supplies were laid out on top of a box, bloody gauze on the floor, an empty suture set bag discarded.

Kate straightened up and stepped back, a little quea-siness roiling in her stomach. Whoever it was had probably cut themselves breaking in.

She turned and reached for her cell phone as a man about her own age, but beat-up, like he'd been in some kind of an accident, limped out from behind a stack of dog food boxes.

"Please don't do that," Connor said, his voice a little slurred.

Kate's fear evaporated, changing into anger. "I suppose you're the asshole who ripped us off last week."

"No. That'd be some other asshole."

Kate edged nearer to the file cabinet and reached for her cell phone, but Connor pulled a pistol from his jacket and pointed it at her. His hand was unsteady and his eyes were bleary. Kate figured it was the Torbutrol.

"I can't let you call the cops," he said. "Sorry."

Kate stepped back from the file cabinet, and gave Connor a closer scrutiny. He looked as if he hadn't had a decent meal or a decent night's sleep in a long time. His eyes had a — she searched for a word. He looked haunted.

"It was an accident," he explained. "I just — needed medicine."

"There's an emergency clinic a half mile—"

"I can't do that," Connor cut her off.

Kate held up the empty Torbutrol bottle. "How much did you take?"

"Enough."

Kate shook her head. "Well, you took the wrong thing. This is the stuff we use to chemically neuter dogs."

Connor laughed. It was obvious he didn't believe her. But she kept her gaze steady, as if she thought he was stupid, and she felt sorry for him.

Suddenly he wasn't so sure. His eyes dropped to the pill bottle in her hand.

Kate tossed it at him. Instinctively he tried to catch it, momentarily losing his balance. She snatched the pistol from his hand, skipped back out of his reach, and pointed it at him.

"Take it easy," he said, raising a hand as if to ward off a blow.

"Back," she told him.

Connor stumbled backward through the double doors into the kennel where the dogs had finally started to quiet down. A few of them whined when they recognized Kate, but the animals were uncertain of what was going on.

Kate motioned toward one of the empty cages for large dogs. "I want you inside."

"No way—"

Kate raised the pistol. "Now."

Connor reluctantly did as he was ordered, his leg very painful. It was obvious he was watching for her to make a mistake. And it was just as obvious that he was in no shape to do anything about it, if she did. Not until the effects of the Torbutrol began to wear off.

Kate slammed the cage door shut, and dropped the latch. Now the cage was impossible to open from inside, and she allowed herself to relax for the first time.

She hunched down in front of the cage and looked at him. There was something familiar… something she couldn't quite put her finger on… something bothersome.

"Look, this isn't what you think," Connor told her.

At that moment the buzzer at the front door went off. Someone had seen the lights in the reception room and had brought a sick animal.

"Yeah, right," she said.

She got up and went back into the storage room where she set the pistol aside and got her cell phone. Suddenly she had it! She knew! And it was like someone had dropped a brick on her head.

She turned on her heel and went back into the kennel. Connor looked up at her expectantly.

"Mike Kripke's basement," she said.

The front buzzer was going crazy, and the dogs were starting to get agitated again.

"What?" Connor asked, confused. "What does that mean?"

Kate shook her head in amazement, then went to find out what idiot was at the front door at this hour.

When she was gone, Connor tried for the latch, but it was just beyond his reach. He braced his back against the rear bars and kicked at the door with no results.

"Beautiful," he muttered.