They crash through the walls, snarling and barking, and there's something fucking exhilarating about it.
Usually, when she did this, the main thing she felt was anger. She was angry at the men who thought they could do this to these dogs. She was angry with herself, because she didn't come earlier. It took time to find out about these kinds of dog fighting rings. Talking to people, which was always awful and annoying and difficult, because the type of people she talked to were the type of people who knew where dog-fighting rings were and she had to resist tearing them apart right then and there long enough to know where those rings were.
So, usually, when she finally got ready to take down a place like this, she was angry.
But this time, she was just excited. She was on top of Brutus, Angelica and Judas at her sides, just like usual. But that wasn't all. There was also Sirius and Kuro and Milk and Stumpy and Axel and Bullet and Ginger- all of the dogs she had given even the basics of training in their amped-up forms.
She couldn't keep track of all of them at the same time, and in fact, her power was burning like a pit in her stomach from keeping all of them as large as they currently were, but that didn't matter. Because she didn't have to keep track of them.
She had explained their goals and she could trust the dog's riders to follow through.
They were a pack. Her, the dogs, the flea-people.
They moved as one, smashed through the wall, smashed through the guards. They could fend off against three dogs- especially when she had to keep double-checking to make sure that the two she wasn't riding were okay, that they weren't getting distracted, that they weren't going too far, but she didn't have to do that this time.
Mixed in with the grunts and screams and gunfire and barking were whistles and squeaky-voiced commands.
It was systematic, the way they shoved down every single person in the ring, throwing them out or battering them to the floor, before moving on. It was over in seconds, and her heartbeat was still pulsing in her ears seconds later.
She climbed down off of Brutus and looked at the ten monstrous dogs lined up in front of her, all of them watching her with excited eyes and happy tongues.
Despite how their bodies had been morphed by her power she could still see that the exhilaration in her was in them, too. She gave out praise and compliments, not just to them, but to their riders, too.
It wasn't just nine fleas, it was a about four to a dog. They had learned to respond to the movements of Rachel's feet, urging them forwards like a horse, so there was a flea on each of their sides holding a medical hammer. The kind doctors used to make you kick your leg up. Then there were two on the head. One near the collar to give commands, and one on the nose to point.
Someone else might have described them like a well-oiled machine, her and thirty-six flea people and ten dogs. But all she could describe them as was a pack.
She began to load the victimized dogs into cages, and then dragged them towards the van. While she was at it, she raided the vaults, the betting tables, and most of the people that had been knocked out rather than sent running. More money to support the shelter.
Then, with reluctance she pulled all the people out. Left them tied up with leather leashes that had been used in the ring. Once she was satisfied that it was totally empty, she looked to her pack, and pointed at the building. "Bring it down. The whole thing."
A chorus of whistles rang out from the fleas, and nine dogs charged, Brutus following the rest of the pack a moment later. They tore down everything. Wood, concrete, plaster, they smashed through all of it, puncturing through one side of the warehouse and out the other, until it couldn't stand up under its own weight.
The building came down, now nothing but rubble.
She climbed into the driver seat of her van, trusting Brutus to follow the van and trusting the fleas on the other nine dogs to urge them to follow as well.
It was a good day, but the fun part was over. The next few days would be a mix of heartache and frustration as she tried to break the conditioning the victimized dogs had gone through, treat their injuries and illnesses, socialize them so that they saw other dogs as friends and not sources of potential violence.
But at least she wasn't alone, this time.
The other flea-people were waiting at the shelter when they got back, immediately flooding the cages and coming back out to get medicine and supplies, or to carry away dead pieces of parasites.
It was... what was the word? Streamlined. Efficient.
Rachel didn't just leave things to them, though. She immediately got down on her knees and began going through the cages, checking on them one by one. Which ones would have to stay in their kennels for the time being, which could be allowed to socialize under watch, which had to be carefully monitored to protect themselves, which needed cones.
The afternoon became evening became night. Her only real breaks were to pull herself away from the new dogs to take care of all the old ones, but these tasks too were made easier with the help. She was grateful for them.
It was nearly midnight before she allowed herself to settle down to sleep.
When she woke up, though, it was to a flea on her face. She managed to somehow restrain the urge to swat at them in time, but was irritated all the same, "What? What happened?"
"There's something you should come see?"
She shrugged her way out of bed, and looked up at the sky- it was earlier than she normally woke up.
She followed the flea's urging towards the shed, where she heard some angry squeaking. Had they trapped a rat inside? As she approached, she saw the fleas crowded around the doors, all of them pulling apart to allow her access. When she walked inside, she saw that there were indeed rats, but instead of being trapped, they were being ridden by more flea-people. Ones with... fur that was more yellowish than the brown she was familiar with.
A handful of her fleas were talking to the new ones, something that immediately quieted as Rachel drew near.
One of the newcomers urged his rat forwards with a "Hyeah!" and it zipped up to her foot. She just about restrained herself from kicking it. She didn't like rats. They got at the dog food. And they carried- well, fleas. "Well, ain't that a strange sight," the rat-flea said, looking up at her.
He...
He sounded like a cowboy.
...
She chose to ignore it.
"When I heard that some of our kind had actually gone and made friends with a human, we knew we had to investigate. Seems like the Pale Queen's wrong sometimes."
"Pale Queen?" Rachel asked.
"The light," one of her own fleas said, "The light we saw, before we started changing. The others think that it's what caused it. A bug who glows with the same light has apparently taken credit for it."
"Not a human?" Rachel asked. There weren't Para-bugs, were there? Para-bugs who could make more para-bugs.
"Nope. A bug, like us. Just... shinier. Purrty-er," the newcomer said, "She's been making her way along the silver trail, with a bunch of boats. Taking anyone who wants to with her. But those of us who're faster, she sends on ahead to get bugs ready for her arrival. Makes the process a bit more smooth, eh? She also tells us to tell the bugs to not trust humans."
Rachel frowned, before nodding, "That makes sense. You shouldn't."
"Oh? What about you?"
"I don't trust humans either. It's why I live with dogs."
The flea laughed at that, and she sneered down at him. If some tiny little rat-riding intruder thinks he can come and laugh at her he-
She stopped herself.
"But really, you shouldn't trust humans. Most would probably just try to squash you. I almost squashed them," she admitted, "So... keep being suspicious, or whatever."
"Hm," he looked back down to his rat, and then up at Rachel again, "Would you want to meet with her? I can't claim to understand how she thinks. She can see the future, after all, but I think she'd find the prospect of a human ally interesting."
"I'm not an ally," Rachel shot back gruffly, "I have a deal with these guys. They help me, I help them. That's all."
"Suit yourself. But the main caravan'll be passing by-" he pointed towards the fence, out towards the train yard. Rachel remembered, then, the sewer opening where she had found the dogs. "-through the sewer there in about two days' time."
He led the other rat-fleas in the direction he pointed, slipping through the spaces of her chain-link fence, and scurrying off towards where she knew the sewer was.
Rachel was left thinking. She didn't really have any reason to meet with the Queen, whoever she was, but... these fleas, her fleas, were part of the pack now. If they were created for something, if someone was trying to control them, she wanted to know why and how. But... she wasn't good at figuring things out.
She was intending on revealing her fleas to the other Undersiders at some point. Their ability to control the other dogs was too useful to not use on their jobs. She could make so much more money if they didn't have to run away all the time.
Tattletale was good at figuring things out. Maybe it was time to tell her, at least, so she could help.
Rachel walked over to her room and found her cell phone. Bringing up Tattletale's number, she hit the dial symbol.