Ready to Bolt

Deedle, deedle, deedle.

A girl about twelve years old pulled out her cell phone. She had short brown hair, a slight build, and wore a pink sweater, black shorts, and black-and-white striped stockings that went all the way up. Seeing the number, she flipped the phone open and held it up to her ear. “Hello?”

“Penny!” came a man's voice from the other end. He sounded nervous, out of breath. “I don't have much time.”

“Daddy?” asked the girl. “Are you okay?” Next to her, a small, stocky white dog perked up his ears and looked at her with an expression of concern. A lightning bolt-shaped birthmark adorned his left side, the inspiration for his name: Bolt.

“Something's... come up at work, Honey. Daddy's not going to be home for a while.”

“I don't understand,” Penny's voice cracked,letting fear leak through like water from a broken pitcher. Her dad sounded scared, and that scared her too.

“You can't go back to the house, okay?”

Penny was confused, and now she was beyond scared. She pulled her knees in close and wrapped her free arm around them. “What's happening?”

“It's all right. You won't be alone. You have Bolt.”

Confused, Penny looked at her dog. He looked back at her.

“I've altered him,” her father continued. “He can protect you now.”

A loud banging noise came through the phone, as if someone were beating a door with a sledgehammer. The noise seemed to smash through some invisible dam, releasing a wave of tension that had been rapidly building up. “I have to go now,” said Dad in a rush. “Penny, I love you!”

“Daddy-!”

The line went dead.

About an hour later, and hundreds of miles away, a man with white hair stood in a conference room. His name was Professor Shepherd, known more commonly as The Master. Seated around a table in front of him were five dogs, humanoid and clad in uniforms that resembled blue jumpsuits with plates of silver body armor. “Road Rovers,” he told them, “We have a serious problem ahead of us.”

An image flashed on the screen, showing a man dressed in a labcoat. He had a brown beard and mustache, and hair that came up over his head like the Statue of Liberty's torch.   “About an hour ago, Professor Livingston, a talented inventor and leader in the field of bio-enhancement, was captured in his own laboratory. His equipment was all stolen or sabotaged, and there was little evidence left of who the kidnappers were.”

Another image replaced the first one, this time showing a man dressed all in black, with hair just as black except for a few streaks of white. A small beard adorned his chin, which together with the hair framed a face of total evil. “We have reason to believe that this man, known only as Calico, had some part in the crime.”

“Calico?” asked Hunter, a yellow retriever mix. “Like the cat?”

“Oh, I already don't like 'im,” Colleen, a brown-and white female collie, remarked.

“Indeed,” the Master nodded. “He's been involved in weapons smuggling and technology theft for decades, but even our best efforts have failed to bring up any trace of his whereabouts. However, we finally have a clue as to his next move.”

The image changed again to show a little girl and a small white dog. “The missing professor left his daughter, Penny, and her dog, Bolt, who have not been seen since the time of his disappearance.  Thanks to a tracking code placed on her cell phone, we believe they are still at large. But Calico and his cohorts are likely to try to kidnap Penny and the dog, hoping to use them as leverage to make the professor work for them. The consequences of his mind in their employ would be nothing short of disaster.”

“They take the dog?” cried Exile, a blue-and white husky. Next to him, Shag, a massive white sheepdog, growled.

“I call dibs on the first bite,” said Blitz, a Doberman Pinscher.

“There's one more thing you should know,” the Master added. “According to a message sent to us a week ago, the professor and his assistants performed an experimental procedure on Bolt, which they expected to show results at about this time. If successful, the process would grant him extraordinary powers comparable to or even surpassing your own. He should be of great help to you on your mission. Find Penny and Bolt, track down the professor, and make sure Calico doesn't get his hands on either of them.”

Hunter jumped to his feet. “You heard the man. Let's hit the road, Rovers!”

Penny and Bolt crouched behind a dumpster, watching a large muscular man dressed remarkably like an MIB agent. The man scanned the alley, searching this way and that for any sign of the two. “Let's go, Bolt,” Penny whispered, slipping out in the other direction. Bolt followed.

“Hey!”

The duo put on an extra burst of speed, neither one daring to look back. “This way!” Penny cried, slipping into a crowd. “We'll try to lose him in here.”

Bolt stuck to Penny's heels as together they ducked and wove through the mass of people crowded on the sidewalk outside a movie theater. Behind them, the man in black shoved his way through the crowd with only one goal in mind: get the girl.

As the two got clear of the cluster, they broke into a dead run. Unfortunately, their stalker was not far behind. And his legs were a lot longer. He was twenty feet away. Fifteen... ten... Heedless of any other danger, they ran across a crosswalk without looking, just in time to avoid being hit by a red car. A red car designed a lot like a dog.

The car screeched to a halt between them and their pursuer, and the back door opened on their side. “Get in!” called the passenger urgently from the front window.

Penny stared.  From the neck down the stranger looked human, and her brown-and-white hair could have passed for a human too. But she had the head of a dog! Bolt stared too, likewise transfixed.

The man in black ran around the front of the car, and Penny jumped into the open door with Bolt inches behind. As the car shot off again, the speed of its start slammed the door behind them and left the man choking on exhaust. Colleen leaned out the window and waved. “Ta-ta!” she called. “Don't bother to write!”

The agent pulled open the collar of his coat. “They got a ride heading west,” he shouted. “Red car, dog-shaped. Can't miss it. Send in the choppers, now!”

In the back seat, Penny and Bolt gasped for breath. “Thanks,” Penny panted. She looked at the two figures in confusion. One looking back at her, the one who had told her to get in, looked like a collie. Brown fur covered her head, while white fur framed her muzzle and eyes. The other, who was driving, had goldish fur and, as best she could tell from behind, was a Labrador. “I've seen dogs like you on the news,” she said slowly. “You're Road Rovers?”

“Yep,” answered the lab. “We heard you needed a paw, so we came to pick you up. Pretty cool, huh?”

The collie pointed to herself. “I'm Colleen, and the chauffeur here is Hunter.”

Hunter briefly cast her an annoyed look. “Since when did I get demoted to driver?” he complained.

“Well, you're the one who always complains about my driving,” she replied.

Bolt let out a series of barks, interrupting the conversation.

“What, talking?” asked Hunter. “Ah, it's all part of the basic package.”

Penny took a moment to realize what had just happened. “You understand him?” she asked.

“Of course,” Colleen replied. “We're dogs, aren't we?”

“You didn't know?” asked Hunter.  It took Penny a moment to realize the question was directed to Colleen. Then, “Uh-oh, we've got company.”

Everyone but Hunter looked back to see several motorcycles on their tail, ridden by wiry figures in skin-tight indigo suits with scaly-looking patterns in the fabric. They wore helmets with large eyeshields resembling massive, sinister black eyes. Overall, they looked a lot like human snakes.

Bolt cocked an ear, then glared up at the ceiling and growled. His body bunched together, and his ears lay flat against his head. “What's wrong, boy?” asked Penny.

Hunter eyed the radar screen. “We've got company,” he replied.

Suddenly, twin beams of intense green light shot out of Bolt's eyes, burning through the ceiling. There was an explosion overhead, and seconds later a heavily armed helicopter fell to earth, spinning out of control before it landed in a massive fireball between them and the motorcyclists.

“Whoa!” cried Hunter, looking back at Bolt.

“How'd you do that?” asked Colleen.

Penny, too, was staring at her dog, who was apparently as surprised as anyone else. Suddenly he barked, looking forward. Hunter looked ahead and swerved just in time to avoid a light pole.

The jarring motion seemed to loosen up Penny's tongue. “Daddy said he did something to Bolt so he could protect me,” she rambled. “He's been doing weird stuff all day, but he never shot lasers