Sangre De Toro (Old Draft - Now Published!)

Chapter 14 - Lost

'So timid. Don't you know where you are? If you just stand there it'll be a boring show, with such a useless bull. Show some fighting spirit you coward.' The man slammed the heavy stick onto his back three or four times in the same place until he cried out in pain. Pepelito tried to edge out the way, not knowing what to do or why he was so angry.

'You’re supposed to be ferocious. Give me some rage. You'll disgrace your breeder if you act like this, they'll have to give you the black banderillas.' As the stick struck his back again Pepelito looked up and saw the man on a platform above them. He beat, kicked and tormented all the bulls in the enclosure but seemed to particularly enjoy hurting him. What had he done to make the man hate him?

And now he was right by the door trying to get in. Pepelito began to tremble with fear and found it hard to breathe.

Rita spoke calmly, not opening the door. 'May I inform you that you're talking to a police officer? Carry on, and me and my partner will take the lot of you down the station and do you for assault.'

'Excuse me. We're from the Fundacion de Toro Bravo. We've had information saying you've got Pepelito. It might be a prank, but we'd like to come in and see for ourselves.' He hated their voices. Trying unsuccessfully to move backwards between the bath and basin, he scraped some of the plaster off the wall with his foot. Tears dripped down his face.

'Have you got authorisation from a judge?' Rita shouted.

'Well -'

'Well! You can't. It's late, I'm about to have dinner with some guests. I've never heard such rubbish. Next time, leave house searches to the professionals.' Panting, Pepelito climbed backwards into the bath, as close as he could get to the wall, and stood with his back legs in the bath and his front legs on the floor. The plastic cracked under his weight.

'One of them's out on license, so dunno what he's playing at, I'll put him straight back inside,' Rita said, loud enough for the men to hear.

One of them spat on the ground outside. 'The boss’s sister-in-law is a cop, this is her house. That bitch is something else. She’s a fucking crazy vegan.'

'Shit. Yeah. I know her. Rita Silvera, right?' Someone else kicked the door hard.

'Nah, it won't open.'

'Let me try.' The door rattled and shook.

Pepelito was seized by panic as he remembered the things he had seen and heard and smelt them do. What they’d done to him when he was trapped. He scrabbled out, loosening the basin from the wall, and shoved himself at the bathroom door. It flew open, creaked and came off one of its hinges; as it fell, it tore down part of the blind covering the front door. Rita let out an ear-splitting scream as she dived away and landed in the straw pile in the living room.

'I can't see in there. Do you think that's him?'

'Nah, that door's solid. Let's come back tonight with some more muscle.' He heard the men muttering to themselves, their footsteps retreating.

But he knew them too well.

They'd be back.

They were going to come in. He had to run somewhere far away. He couldn't let them anywhere near him.

He threw himself down the passage and leapt onto the armchair, flinging himself at the kitchen door behind.

It broke and collapsed and he skidded into the kitchen, crashing into the table Dominguez had climbed on earlier. There was a splinter in his hoof. He threw himself at the glass door to the courtyard; it shattered against his horns. A stone statue of an angel that usually sat on Rita's back step fell onto the ground, but did not break. He looked around desperately. The passage leading into the street was too narrow for him. Someone saw him from the other side of the alley and screamed. He turned away, trying to run, he didn't know where.