No Permanent Death (The Outsiders)

Running With The Devil

Darrel frowned. "It will be over your dead body! What if something happens? How will you reach us?" He asks, him and Soda practically chasing after me. "Nothings gonna' happen! And if, for some reason, something does-" I looked around the room, stealing a handful of coins from the collection plate we left on the counter. "There's telephone booths every ten feet. I can use one of those."

Darrel and Sodapop both looked none the happier, but sent me off with a wish for good luck.

12:47 pm
12.18.41
New York City
Shepherd Residence

The home was on the outskirts of town, hidden by thick trees and winding roads. It took me a while to get used to checking the map and making sure I didn't drive clean off the side of the road, but I managed. When I got closer, there were no guards. No crazy gateway entries, nobody stopping and asking for my name, not even a 'no trespassing' sign. For a moment I thought I went to the wrong place. But then I saw it.

The house was gorgeous. I had always been a fan of the tuscan style homes, but this one really outdid itself. It wasn't even that big- but each and every window was adorned with hanging flowers and carved wooden frames. The house was made completely out of stone, a large cursive 'S' painted on the side. All of the windows were colorful stained glass and the door was a dark oak, carved with flowers and suns. There was a stone pathway lined with colorful flowers and thick leaves, a large willow tree hanging over the entire front yard. I couldn't help the small laugh that left me at the tire swing out front, and the football that was clearly lost in the yard some time ago.

The whole place was lined with a white picket fence, a large canopy gate with vines twisting in and out of it being the only security the house had. I parked my car just outside the front and stepped out, immediately feeling a sense of overwhelming peace. I took a step closer to the gate, halfway wondering if this was actually the wrong house.
The place felt too... homey. Not that mob bosses can't have a good home life, but last I checked Bambi didn't seem old enough to have any kids or a spouse. Why would he need a tire swing? Why would he need (what looks like) the remnants of an old tree house? There was even a small red dog house off to the side with a name I couldn't read painted across the front!

There were still little things about the place that tipped me off. I was at the right place. There was a large heavy-duty lock on the front gate, a small security camera hidden in the vines, and there were a few bullet holes in the old willow tree.

I didn't have much time to think about it. The second my hand touched the gate, a big rottweiler started jumping at me from the other side. It was barking and snarling like a lunatic, and I was almost sure it could jump the fence if it wanted to.
Just as I was going to take a step back, the front door opened. I was far enough away that I couldn't really see his face, but I knew who it was. I could hear his laughter ring through the air as he scampered over to where his dog was a few moments away from hopping the fence and tearing my face open. "Down boy!" He scolded. I watched as he placed a hand atop the rapid dog's head, scratching behind its ears until it calmed down.
"My apologies." He sighed, "This ol' dog had yet to learn any new tricks other than 'bite and attack'." He said guiltily.

"Don't worry about it. I know it's kind of in their nature." I shrugged, looking at the creature wearily. Bambi frowned, and I immediately knew I said something wrong.

Way to go, idiot.

"It's not. It's how we raise them- Here." He lightly took my hand and held it to the dog's face. For a moment I was sure I'd be leaving the exchange with one less finger, but then it just... sniffed me. It took one look back at him as if to ask 'is this one okay?' before licking me. I couldn't help but smile, the dog was rather cute when it wasn't a rapid beast.
"What's his name?" I asked, mirroring the way Bambi had scratched him behind the ears. "Abu." He said with a roll of his eyes. "Like the dog from 'The Thief of Bagdad'. My brother loves the hell out of that movie." He explained.

"I didn't realize he was a rottweiler." I muttered. Sodapop had also been a big fan of the movie when it first came out, so I had seen it a few more times than I'm proud of. "He wasn't." He shrugged. "I don't exactly credit him for his creativity." He added with a chuckle.