The Return (2 page)

“For you,” the pup replied. “For the pack, yes. But I need to do something. Something right, all by myself. Or else how can I ever expect any dog to forgive me?” He looked up at Shep with his huge, sad eyes. His ears hung limp around his muzzle.

“The pack will forgive you,” Shep woofed, licking Oscar's head. “Just give them time.”

Shep allowed the others to take a short nap, just enough sleep to keep their paws moving under them. After the moon moved a stretch across the sky, he woke them and the pack set out to find the field of pavement crowded with winged Cars. The streets were dark — even though nearly two moon-cycles had passed since the storm, the city's lights were still out — and the dogs moved like shadows along the Sidewalk.

Shep kept his nose open for any humans. On previous nights, the pack had found sleeping men, and sometimes women and children, hidden inside paper boxes or even simply Outside under the Great Wolf's fiery coat, curled on the stone of the Sidewalk. Those humans must have returned to the city to find that their homes had been blasted apart by the storm or washed away by the wave.

When they found these denless humans, a part of Shep wondered about his boy, about whether his family slept on the stone in front of their broken den. And in that heartbeat, sadness exploded so violently inside Shep that he felt ready to burst. But he would wrestle himself back from those feelings. He had a pack to run. He had friends to rescue. He had a new life. He was the alpha.

Fuzz led the dogs under awnings and down alleys, careful to scent for any dangers. They were lucky to have the meower, though Shep knew most of the dogs would never admit to feeling that way. Even after all these suns, Shep himself was startled whenever the cat barked. Fuzz was eerily silent and still, and his eyes continued to set Shep's fur bristling when he caught their green glow flashing at him. It was weird living with a cat — they were just so different. But Fuzz had proved an invaluable pack member time and again.

When Shep allowed his mind to wander over his suns in the boat, he sometimes stumbled upon that wretched evening when he threw the cat out. In a heartbeat, all the horror that one stupid decision had led to would flood his memory. He would see poor Honey dead in that alley and his friends massacred by the wild dogs. He would see Blaze's fierce eyes and cower all over again beneath their power. The guilt and anger and regret and sadness would tear through him like lightning.

Shep would dig through the memories, trying to find exactly where he'd gone wrong. He knew that if only he could track down exactly where he'd lost the right scent, he could ensure that he'd never make that mistake again. Once he had crushed that blunder in his jaws, Shep would become the alpha every dog needed him to be.

 

The first tails of dawn were flicking in the sky when the pack reached the fenced field of pavement. As Oscar had reported, tall Cars with stiff wings jutting from their backs were arranged in neat rows along the stone. Some were huge — bigger even than the boat! — others had blades like a ceiling fan where their noses should be.

The rows of bird-Cars stretched away from the fence that divided the dogs from the pavement field. Far down one row, Shep saw a building with a curved roof, like half of a giant tube. It was surrounded by bright white lights and what looked like stacks of crates. A strong scent of dog wafted from that direction.

Shep had to get to the tube building.

The fence protecting the field of pavement was tall and made of metal rings. The gate near the street was closed and held fast with thick chains and a lock.

Rufus poked the metal fence, rattling the rings. “The one thing we need to have been broken by the storm, and it's solid as stone,” he grumbled.

“We can wait until the humans open the gate,” woofed Boji, tail waving.

Daisy flopped into a sit. “You really think they're going to just —
snort
— let a bunch of strays wander into their fenced-in field?” she yapped.

“Smushed-snout correct,” hissed Fuzz. “Truck stop at gate last sun, and human in small box on side of road check truck before let inside.” Fuzz whipped his tail at the flimsy little building positioned alongside the road in front of the gate. “Dogs no get in this way.”

“Then we'll have to find another way,” Shep barked.

Shep waved his snout, and the dogs loped after him along the edge of the fence. Following the course of the fence led them away from the cold winds, then toward sunset, the fence curving to avoid a wide street. There were no other gates in the metal links, no weaknesses for the pack to exploit. Shep was losing all hope of finding a secret way into the field when they came across a toppled tree.

They were far from the gate now, and the sun shone above the steaming rooftops. Every dog was panting.

The tree had broken the top pole that held the metal fence up. The wall of rings was bent down nearly to the ground. Several sleeping winged Cars stood a few stretches from the fence, and beyond them, Shep could smell the dogs.

“Should we wait for night?” woofed Ginny, a hopeful look on her muzzle.

“No,” Shep barked. “We need to check this building out now. But not all of us need to go. I'll scout the place out, then report back here with what I find.”

“What should we do while you're gone?” woofed Dover.

“Stay hidden,” Shep woofed. “I'll be back before midsun.”

Shep hopped onto the tree trunk and crept along its length. The tree bounced on the metal of the fence, creaking loudly. Shep scrambled faster along the bark, then sprang over the fence and onto the pavement. Fuzz landed silently beside him.

“Fuzz keep Shep out of trouble,” the cat meowed.

Shep waved his tail. “I didn't think you'd stay behind,” he yipped. “Even if I nailed your tail to the street, I'd soon find you slinking in my shadow.”

The cat closed his eyes and purred. “Perhaps it only Fuzz who see how lost dog-pack be without cat.”

Shep panted. “It's not only you who sees that,” he woofed.

“Watch out!”

Oscar plummeted from the tree and onto the cat's back with a crash. Fuzz let off an awful meow, then hissed something snarly in cat-speak.

“I thought I said I'd check things out while the rest of the pack stayed,” Shep barked, annoyed. The last thing he needed was to have to keep track of the pup while sniffing out a dangerous nest of dog catchers.

“I won't get in your way,” Oscar yipped. “And I found the place. I should get to check it out, too.” He stood tall, his little chest puffed out.

Shep glanced at the others on the opposite side of the fence. Dover cocked his head and waved his tail, as if to say, Why fight the pup? Shep knew he would have to drag Oscar by the scruff back over the fence if he wanted him to stay put.

“Fine,” Shep grumbled. “But keep right on my tail. I don't want to lose you in addition to every dog else.”

The pup wagged his tail. “Don't you worry a hair about me,” Oscar yapped. “I'll be right behind you.”

 

Shep decided that they should approach the dog-smell building from the nearest row of winged Cars, so the three dashed across the pavement until they reached the belly of one of the massive metal birds. They crept from shadow to shadow, pressed close to one another, winding their bodies between the Cars' thin, metal legs. Then the bird-Cars ended.

About fifteen stretches of open pavement separated Shep from the first cage. In it lay a strange dog, big and brown — and asleep, though it was fully light out. On top of that cage was another, and another small crate rested on top of that. There were two cats in the second cage, a rabbit in the topmost. From this corner, the cages ran toward the cold winds and also toward sunset, farther than Shep could see. The smells of dog and cat and rat and rabbit and bird and Great Wolf knows what else bombarded his nose.

Oscar slumped beside Shep's forelegs, jaw slack beneath his jowls. “It's so big,” he moaned. “How can there be so many dogs?”

Shep sat, unsure what else to do. This was too much, this kennel. How could they search all these cages? It would take a lifetime to sniff each one, to find all his packmates … to find Blaze … to find Callie.

“Fuzz look closer,” the cat barked and burst from beneath the bird-Car. He stopped alongside the corner cage, then sprang onto the top of the first, then the second, and finally onto the roof of the third. The rabbit squealed and scrabbled around its little crate.

Fuzz raced along the tops of the cages and disappeared. Shep began to dig through his brain for how they could possibly invade this maze of crates, how best to find and free his friends.

“Down!” Oscar cried.

A small bus rumbled toward them along the space of pavement between the winged Car and the cages. Shep ducked deeper into the shadow, hiding himself. The bus drove halfway down the row of cages toward the building, then stopped. A door on its side slid open, and several humans in loose, colorful clothes stumbled out onto the pavement. This bus was followed by others — Cars (open backed and regular types) and all sorts of machines roared past, dropping off humans and a few dogs and other animals.

“This place is crawling with people,” Shep mumbled to himself.

“But not at night,” Oscar woofed. He squinted at the cages as if peering into the depths of the maze. “Everything is quieter at night. We could come back then and free all the dogs.”

“Oscar, even if we worked from the heartbeat the sun set to when the first tails of dawn wagged, we couldn't open more than a snoutful of cages.”

The pup glanced up at Shep. “A snoutful is better than none.”

 

The sun baked the pavement. Heat rose in steamy waves from the stone. The dog in the corner cage finally woke and lapped up some water. Shep and Oscar stared at his bowl every time he slurped up a snoutful, their mouths dry as sand.

“Could you spare a drop?” Oscar barked to the strange dog. His tiny tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, distorting his woof.

The dog glanced at him, then at the bowl. “Sorry,” he yipped. “The human only comes by once a sun, and I only have enough water for me.”

“Can you tell us anything about this place?” Shep woofed. “How many humans are here? How many dogs?”

The dog sniffed the air, then sat. “So many that I never see the same human twice, and more dogs than I've ever smelled. They brought me here in this cage, and I've been in it ever since. Every afternoon, they take me for a walk by the edge of the fence, but other than that, what you see is what I see. Sometimes, strange humans walk by to peer into my cage, but not my girl. Not my family.” Suddenly, the dog's ears pricked. He stood and waved his tail. “Have you seen my family out there?”

Shep sighed. “Sorry,” he woofed. “I wouldn't know them even if I had seen them.”

“But I'm sure they'll be here soon,” Oscar added with a cheerful yip.

The dog's tail drooped. He lay down and rested his snout on his paws. “Yeah,” he groaned.
“Soon.”

It was nearing midsun when Fuzz dropped down from the piles of cages and raced across the pavement to where Oscar and Shep lay panting in the shade.

“Took you long enough,” Shep sighed. “We have to find some water.”

“Fuzz find Callie-dog!” the cat meowed. “Callie-dog in building. Have tube in leg.”

Shep sprang to his paws. “I'm going in,” he woofed.

“Don't be a fuzz head,” Oscar barked. “You'd be captured in a heartbeat.” He bit Shep's foreleg for extra measure. “We have to find some water, meet back with the others, and come up with some plan that doesn't involve getting caught the heartbeat we set paw in the kennel.”

Shep shook his fur, knowing Oscar was right but not liking a woof out of his snout. Callie was here! Callie was in trouble! He had to save her!

“Small-snout right.” Fuzz flicked Shep in the nose with his tail. “Shep-dog wait. No help to Callie-dog with fur-for-brain.”

 

They made their way as fast as their paws could manage back to the fence. As they walked, Fuzz explained what he'd seen in the complex.

“Cages in rows, piles of cages. Rodent on cat on dog on dog.” His disgust at the arrangement was evident in the tone of his hiss. “But in building, less cages and less dogs. More people. Callie there.”

Shep pressed Fuzz for better details of the space, but the cat had little to offer.

“Fuzz no have time to scratch out plan of whole space,” he meow-barked. “If Shep-dog want explain better, he go sniff out building himself.”

“Then that's what I'll have to do,” Shep grumbled.

The others were waiting on the other side of the fence around the toppled tree trunk. It looked like in all those heartbeats, they hadn't moved a paw.

“What did you —
snort
— find?” barked Daisy.

“Yeah-Shep-did-you-find-Callie-and-can-we-go-home-yet-huh?” Snoop leapt against the metal rings of the fence and sent the whole wall shivering.

Rufus nipped Snoop in the hind leg. “Get down before you set the whole mess of humans on us!” he snapped.

Shep smelled that the pack was feeling equal parts anxious and excited. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“Humans,” woofed Dover. “A few drove by in one of those open-backed Cars. They marked the tree.” He waved his nose, and Shep saw an orange X painted on the trunk.

Daisy pawed closer to Shep, chest out like she was trying to appear taller. “I ordered the pack to jump into a bush,” she grunted. “We stayed hidden.”

Daisy was all that was left of Shep's defense team, and apparently she thought this meant that she was in charge when he was away. If the others didn't raise their hackles over the arrangement, Shep wasn't going to make anything of it.

He wasn't sure why the humans painted a mark on the tree, but it couldn't be for anything good. Shep had to get his trapped packmates out of this place and fast.

“We found Callie, so the others can't be far,” barked Shep. “Our pack will be back together by sunrise.”

 

The dogs moved away from the fence for the rest of the afternoon, not wanting to attract any more attention to their entry-tree. They began searching the gully alongside the wide street for water and food, and found a few slurps and bites to swallow down.