Oliver and Dodger Sam's Revenge

The rain over the East River didn’t clean the city; it just washed the grime into deeper cracks. Down by the dark, abandoned slips of Pier 42, the rusted skeleton of an old warehouse blocked out the Manhattan skyline.

Inside, the air smelled of salt water, diesel exhaust, and fresh blood.

Sam stood in the center of the concrete floor, her leather jacket glistening from the drizzle. She didn’t blink as the heavy steel door at the far end of the floor creaked open. Shadows stretched across the pavement as three low-level enforcers stepped through, trailing heavy iron chains.

At Sam’s heel, low and vibration-thick, came a growl that rattled the loose gravel on the floor.

Hannah didn’t shift her weight. The massive German Shepherd kept her ears pinned back, amber eyes locked onto the men entering the space.

“You’re late,” Sam said, her voice dropping like lead weights onto the concrete.

“Traffic on the bridge, Sam, we swear—” one of the men started, taking a nervous step back.

Hannah didn’t bark. She took one slow, deliberate step forward, the muscle in her jaw tight, letting out a sharp, raspy snarl that cut the man off mid-sentence.

“My father didn’t accept traffic as an excuse,” Sam said softly, stepping into the dim light. “And I don’t run this city by letting his old associates forget who holds the leash now.”

Miles away, high above the wet pavement of Fifty-Seventh Street, Oliver sat on the edge of a fire escape, looking down into the fog. Beside him, Dodger shifted his paws, his scarred muzzle turned toward the south, catching a scent on the cold night wind that hadn’t been in New York for years.

“So, what’s up, kid?” Dodger asked, leaning back against the cool iron of the fire escape and resting his chin on his paws. His eyes stayed glued to the street below, but his tone had softened.

Oliver pulled his tail in close against the damp cold, keeping his gaze fixed on the hazy yellow glow of the streetlights. “I miss Fagin,” Oliver said to Dodger, his voice barely louder than the hum of the passing traffic.

Dodger took a slow, heavy breath, letting the rain soak into his red bandana.

“We all do,” Dodger said, looking over at Oliver with a gentle nod. “He was a special kind of hero. He didn’t have much, but he gave us everything he had. And no matter how dark this city gets... we keep going for him.”

The quiet moment didn’t last long. Down in the alley below, a sudden sharp, metallic clatter echoed against the brick walls—followed by the low, guttural growl of a dog that definitely didn’t belong to any neighborhood pack.

Dodger’s ears instantly snapped forward, his entire body going rigid. “Up on your feet, kid,” he muttered, stepping in front of Oliver. “We’ve got company.”

Dodger scrambled through the cracked window of the old hideout, his claws skittering across the wooden floorboards as he hit the ground running.

“Hannah’s outside,” Dodger said, his voice stripped of all its usual cool confidence, leaving only raw, sharp urgency.

The room went dead silent.

Rita scrambled up onto a wooden crate, her posture instantly hardening into defensive position as her dark eyes flashed toward the window. Behind her, Tito let out a quiet, furious growl, his small frame trembling with adrenaline as he backed up against Francis, who stood tall, his heavy jaw set tight and ready for whatever was coming through that door.

Einstein let out a low, worried whine, backing into the shadows as Georgette gasped, ducking behind a stack of old blankets.

“Are you sure?” Rita asked, her eyes never leaving the entrance. “Sykes’s dog?”

“Her smell is all over the alley,” Dodger growled, moving back toward the threshold to shield Oliver. “And she ain’t alone.”

Down in the alley, the slow, rhythmic sound of heavy boots echoed up the fire escape stairs—accompanied by the steady, terrifying click of massive claws on iron. Sam was right behind her hound.

“...and she ain’t alone.”

Before anyone could make a move, a harsh, echoing laugh rang out from the darkness of the doorway—sharp, arrogant, and dripping with dangerous authority. Taraji P. Henson’s distinct, commanding voice cut through the damp air, carrying every ounce of Sam’s ruthless pride.

“Well, well,” Sam purred from the shadows, her tone smooth as silk and cold as ice. “Look at what my father left behind. A bunch of street rats clinging to old memories.”

Beside her, a massive silhouette stepped out into the low light. Hannah let out a deep, gravelly growl that vibrated right through the wooden floorboards. The German Shepherd lowered her head, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed the air, locking onto the scent of Oliver and Dodger. Her amber eyes gleamed with pure aggression, just waiting for Sam to give the word to attack.

Tito bared his teeth, stepping up beside Dodger. “She wants a fight, she came to the right alley!”

“Stay sharp, Tito,” Rita warned in a low tone, keeping her eyes fixed on Hannah’s front paws. “This isn’t like fighting Sykes’s Dobermans. These two are hunting.”

Sam’s lip curled into a bitter, dangerous smile as her dark eyes locked onto Oliver.

“Oh, so you have a cat... and he’s fully grown,” Sam taunted, her voice carrying that sharp, menacing bite. “Well, let’s see if you can save your cat from my dog, Hannah... HANNAH, ATTACK THE CAT!"

The command hit like a thunderclap. Hannah lunged forward instantly, her powerful hind legs kicking up splinters from the wooden floor as her jaws snapped shut inches from Oliver’s tail!

“NOT ON MY WATCH!” Tito roared, springing straight off a wooden crate and diving toward Hannah’s face to blindside her.

Dodger didn’t hesitate for a second. He threw his full weight sideways, knocking Oliver out of the way of Hannah’s devastating charge just as the massive German Shepherd tore through the space where the cat had been sitting.

“Get Oliver to the high rafters!” Rita barked to Francis and Einstein, her teeth bared as she maneuvered around Hannah’s flank to draw her attention away from the kid. “We hold the line here!”

Sam leaned against the doorframe, watching the chaos unfold with a cold, amused grin, enjoying every second of the panic. “Fetch, Hannah,” she hissed quietly under her breath.

Hannah swiped her heavy, clawed paw straight across Dodger’s side, sending him crashing hard into a stack of wooden crates!

Dodger let out a loud yelp, skidding across the dusty floorboards as the boxes collapsed around him.

“DODGER!” Oliver screamed, his eyes wide with horror as he tried to break away to sprint back to his friend’s side.

“No, kid! Keep moving!” Francis rumbled, using his broad, heavy chest to physically block Oliver’s path, forcing him backward toward the back stairs.

“We gotta go, Oliver, we gotta go!” Einstein whined, panic high in his voice as he grabbed Oliver by the scruff of his neck with gentle urgency, hoisting him up onto a high wooden ledge out of Hannah’s immediate reach. Einstein and Francis had to keep Oliver moving, no matter how much the young cat fought against them.

Over the sound of snapping jaws and crashing wood, Sam leaned back against the doorway, throwing her head back as she let out a cold, evil cackle. Her laugh echoed viciously through the crumbling hideout.

“Look at them run!” Sam mocked, her voice dripping with sadistic joy. “Where’s all that big-city pride now, Dodger? Hannah, don’t let up! Corner that cat!”

Hannah let out that signature, unsettling evil chuckle of her own—a low, raspy sound deep in her throat—as she shook off Tito, turning her predatory gaze right back toward the rafters where Oliver was trapped.

"DON’T LET THEM ESCAPE WITH THAT CAT, HANNAH!" Sam roared, her voice echoing off the concrete walls like a whip cracking through the dark hideout.

Hannah’s ears pinned flat against her head. With a vicious growl, the German Shepherd drove her powerful legs into the floorboards, lunging upward toward the rafters where Francis and Einstein were scrambling with Oliver. Her jaws snapped shut with a bone-chilling CRACK, missing Einstein’s hind leg by mere inches.

“Over here, you big dumb mutt!” Rita yelled, springing onto an overturned table and knocking over a heavy metal lantern. It crashed onto the floor right in front of Hannah, sending a shower of sparks into the air and forcing the hound to flinch back for a split second.

“Francis! Get Oliver out through the fire escape hatch—NOW!” Dodger wheezed, pushing himself up off the floor despite the sharp pain in his side. He spat out a mouthful of dust, his eyes burning with defiance as he placed himself directly between Sam and the rest of his crew.

Sam took a slow, menacing step into the room, her dark eyes locking onto Dodger with absolute disdain. “You’re real brave for a dog that’s bleeding, Dodger,” she sneered, Taraji’s voice laced with cold fury. “But courage don’t stop a bullet, and it definitely won’t stop Hannah.”

Hannah let out another raspy, sinister snicker, slinking low to the ground as she prepared to spring around the fallen lantern to cut off the escape route.

“Hannah, you want Oliver? You’re gonna have to go through me!” Dodger barked, standing his ground with his feet planted firm and his tail low, holding the line right in the middle of the room.

A low, raspy sound echoed from deep within Hannah’s chest. Miley Cyrus’s signature evil chuckle rasped right through the German Shepherd’s throat—a gravelly, dark laugh that chilled the room.

“Gladly, street dog,” Hannah growled out, her amber eyes burning as she bared her long teeth, dripping with saliva.

“Dodger, no! You can’t take her alone!” Rita shouted, scrambling onto a stack of crates to get higher ground.

Up above, Francis pounded his heavy paws against the rusted iron latch of the fire escape hatch. CLANG! CLANG!

“Hold on, boy! It’s rusted shut!” Francis grunted, straining against the metal while Einstein pulled Oliver tightly against his side to shield him.

“I don’t have to beat her, Rita,” Dodger gritted out through his teeth, keeping his eyes locked on Hannah’s front paws. “I just gotta buy the kid some time!”

Sam laughed from the doorway, folding her arms as she watched Dodger take his stance. “Look at you... still playing the big hero. Hannah, break him!”

With a vicious bark, Hannah lunged straight for Dodger’s throat!

Dodger’s eyes widened in sheer shock as Hannah’s massive weight crashed down on him, pinning him flat against the splintered floorboards. The vicious German Shepherd snarled, opening her jaws wide as she went straight for his jugular!

PING!

A sharp pebble bounced off the side of Hannah’s snout. The hound recoiled with an angry snap, her head jerking up to track where the throw had come from.

Standing atop a high pile of wooden crates, Rita held another small piece of concrete in her paw, her posture tense and ready to jump. She had drawn the beast’s full attention.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, RITA?! GO!" Dodger yelled, struggling against the heavy weight of Hannah’s paws to get back up.

“I’m not leaving you to get torn apart, Dodger!” Rita snapped back, her eyes flashing with determination. “Francis! Get that hatch open now!”

Sam snorted from the doorway, shaking her head with a cruel smile. “How touching. A whole pack of strays dying for each other.” She clicked her tongue. “Hannah... forget the pebble. Finish the leader first.”

Hannah let out that signature raspy, low laugh again, turning her heavy jaws right back down toward Dodger’s exposed throat.

Rita didn’t hesitate. With a ferocious growl, she leaped straight off the high wooden crates, landing square on Hannah’s back! The impact knocked the German Shepherd off balance, forcing her jaws away from Dodger’s throat just in time.

Rita clawed and bit with everything she had, wrestling the much larger hound in a wild, chaotic brawl across the dusty floorboards. “Get up, Dodger! Move!” Rita snapped mid-tussle.

Dodger scrambled back onto his feet, side bleeding but adrenaline pumping, as Rita threw herself clear of the furious hound.

“HEY! CATCH THIS, YOU UGLY MUTT!” Tito screamed from the top of the storage rack. With a mighty shove, the hyperactive Chihuahua pushed against a massive stack of heavy wooden crates.

The crates tipped, overbalancing with a terrifying creak. Dodger and Rita dove in opposite directions as the entire tower of heavy wood collapsed in a thunderous avalanche!

CRASH!

The wooden crates rained down directly on top of Hannah. A sharp, pained yelp escaped the German Shepherd before she was completely buried beneath the heavy timber and splintered wood.

“HANNAH!” Sam shrieked from the doorway, her eyes wide with shock and rage as dust billowed up into the air.

Up on the rain-slicked roof, the cool night air hit the pack like a shock to the system. Oliver scrambled up onto Dodger’s side, his breath coming in ragged gasps, while Francis shoved his heavy shoulder against the hatch door, slamming it shut and jamming a rusted steel pipe through the handles to lock it tight from the outside.

Down below in the ruined warehouse, the dust slowly settled over the pile of shattered crates. A low, pained whine rasped out from under the heavy timber as Hannah tried to claw her way free.

Sam stood in the middle of the wreckage, her designer boots covered in plaster dust, staring at the empty rafters where the strays had just escaped. Her knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists, her chest heaving with absolute, unadulterated fury.

She threw her head back, her voice booming through the empty warehouse, carrying all the dark, vengeful rage of the Sykes family name:

"NOOOOOOOOO! YOU PATHETIC LITTLE RAT-EATING STRYS! I WILL HUNT EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU DOWN! DO YOU HEAR ME?! YOU’RE ALL DEAD!"

Her scream echoed up through the metal pipes, vibrating through the rooftop beneath Dodger’s paws.

Dodger looked back at the locked hatch, then at his beaten, bruised, but intact family. He wiped a streak of rain and blood from his muzzle and looked out over the glowing NYC skyline.

“Let her yell,” Dodger growled quietly, his eyes dark with determination. “She just officially started a war.”

END OF CHAPTER 1