The Battle Begins by Devon Hughes Page B

forward, snapping her fangs as Enza defensively batted the snake away.
    Both animals regrouped, circling each other, hissing.
    Castor glanced up to see the wet underarm circles staining Horace’s shirt and heard the anxious rhythm as the man tapped his foot. He tensed instinctively—an unhappy handler in a tight space could get nasty.
    On the screen, Deja’s tail rattled and her head struck forward; this time Enza was done dodging. They clashed together in the center, their bodies locked in a vicious embrace. As the Unnaturals rolled heavily across the sandy ground, the people in the audience were on their feet cheering.
    The two Unnaturals were so tangled up it was hard to tell who was who, but Deja’s scaly body looked stretched tight, and Castor thought that Enza’s furry brown arms looked awfully limp. . . .
    â€œCome on, you’re supposed to be fearless!” Horace shouted at the screen suddenly, his face reddening. “At least use your claws!”
    The handler punched the red button again, but thistime he held it down too long. Castor could see the whites of Enza’s eyes, and the length of Deja’s body bunched into one tightly clenched muscle. It took a long time for their bodies to stop shivering, and when they did, the stillness was even scarier.
    Castor started to pant and whine in distress, pawing at the box.
    Why did Deja look all crumpled like that? And why was Enza’s tongue lolling out on the dirty sand? Why weren’t they moving?
    They didn’t stir even when a pair of Whistlers came out to drag them off the field, and the announcer called the match in Deja’s favor. Horace swore and slammed his fist onto the table.
    â€œYou really wanted that natty teddy bear to win, huh, Horace?” Slim joked. It wasn’t often that the young handler had the chance to hold something over his boss.
    Horace glared at Slim as if he had the intelligence of an earthworm. “The shocks help them break their original instincts. And like I told you, the mayor wants Team Scratch to perform better this season.”
    â€œWhy is the mayor such a big Team Scratch fan all of a sudden?” Slim gave Horace a sideway glace.
    â€œYou think Mayor Eris really cares about the team, you nitwit? No, she wants ratings. If no one thinks theInvincible can be beaten, then why watch the matches? It needs to at least seem like Team Scratch could win for once. Which means if the eagle-dog doesn’t perform like he did in the street, certain bookies are going to be very unhappy with the odds they were given.” Horace got very close and spoke into Slim’s ear. “You ever been on Vince Romano’s bad side before?”
    Slim’s chin dimpled uncertainly, and when he looked down at Castor, he actually frowned. “He’s ready.”
    â€œHe’d better be.”
    Castor tore his eyes from the screen and looked up at the men. He didn’t know if he could ever win. But he did know he was the furthest thing from ready.
    He started to back his rear end under the table, but there was nowhere to go. Horace tugged the leash attached to his collar, and when Castor didn’t move fast enough, he snapped the metal chain against the floor. The sound crackled almost as bright as the whistle. It was enough to make Castor walk nicely out of the room and into the elevator, but when Slim pulled the sack over his head, he totally lost it.
    The rough fabric clung against his fur, and Castor could hardly breathe. He shook his head, trying to get it off, and when that failed, he howled for mercy. But Horace and Slim didn’t have mercy to give. Instead, theytaunted him, jostling him roughly between them, until finally the elevator shuddered to a stop.
    It didn’t matter if he still didn’t know how to fly, or if he was scared, or if Enza and Deja were hurt, or worse. Tonight, ready or not, Castor, the Unnatural Underdog, would make his debut in the Dome.

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