Junkyard Dog Crossword Novels & Stories

he said. “I’ll rephrase that for you. It's more like; let's see who gets burnt first” I responded and pointed my finger at him again when suddenly we heard a shrill deafening scream. We both looked in the direction of the entrance of the junkyard and there she was; “H-hazel?” ****

“Don’t you think I know you’d never cry wolf? Don’t you think I know what type of woman you are, Domini?” No. I don’t think you have a clue. “You didn’t imagine anything. You heard somebody throwing stuff in the Dumpster. Inside the container were a bunch of broken glass and rotten wood from old window frames. Either the Dumpster rolled away as they were loading the bigger stuff into it, or they used it as bumper car, because it’s crossways in the alley.” “Really?” “Yep. There are a couple of big chunks out of the sandstone where the Dumpster smacked into it.”

It felt like he was holding the weight of all his pain and suffering, every sleepless night, every moment Myla trembled in fear, every second he’d felt helpless in his hands. “Jackpot,” he growled, his voice vibrating with anger. “We got you, motherfucker.” Jared squatted beside him immediately. They pulled the duffel out. It was dirty, scuffed, like it had been dragged through gravel. Hayden unzipped the side pocket and pulled out papers, old receipts and a dead, old cracked phone. He froze when his fingers brushed something cold and metallic. He quickly pulled it out to see that it was an old, worn army dog tag.

*"She clawed her way out. She remembers the name you buried." Eden lifts the key, its frost melting into his scarred palm. "Where?" The wolf dissolves, its final whisper scraping my skull. *"The Crossroads. Where all debts collect."* --- The Crossroads festers beneath the wastes like a poisoned root. We descend into a derelict subway station, its tiles slick with black mold, fluorescent lights flickering over walls papered with missing-person posters-each one Eden's face, dates spanning centuries. The heart seethes. *"Her obsession is *pathetic*."*

I retorted, giving as good as I got. “That should be our guy,” Jax mentioned. I grabbed the trash bag that Gia left in doorway and carried it with me as I answered the door. The guy at the door was busy admiring the sign I put up in the side window. It read, “Never mind the dog, beware of the cubs”. It was an inside joke about having a wolf for a wife.

But the image of him hurt, trapped, bleeding, intruded, replacing the good memories. Finally, Andy pulled onto a narrow road lined with old fences. The air smelled of oil, metal, and decay. Ahead, a crooked sign read ‘Dock Nine’. Andy muttered. “Even the garbage has a name on it.” Andy parked just outside the gates. The junkyard loomed before us, rows of skeletal cars stacked like corpses. The place was quiet and abandoned. We exchanged a glance as the tracker beeped softly from the phone. We were close but the whole place was too quiet to hold a living being.

He opened it and read whatever was written on there for a while, then wordlessly, he folded it back and returned it to me. He cleared his throat, slipping the screwdriver into his pants pocket now. Did the old man think I was blind? “I don’t think the truck you’re looking for is in my junkyard,” he said after some time, and I smirked, nodding. I knew that truck had to be here, because this was the only junkyard within this region, out of town. The perfect spot to hide the core evidence of crime. “You might have to think twice before you give me a response, good sire,” I said, stepping closer to him. “Because I don’t take it very lightly to lie or slip-ups.”

I pulled the phone closer to my ear. CLANK. CLANK. CLANK. For some odd reason, I recognize the sound from somewhere— but where? Disheartened, I plugged my phone into my laptop and played with the audio enhancer. I took out the voices or any extra noise that was irrelevant. It took a while, but I know what it is. Pipes. I remember Aria saying the person smelled like rust and oil. A junkyard in the city only collects cars over on 35th Street. I snatched my things and slipped out the bedroom window.