The Return (3 page)

Daisy strutted to Shep's side. “What's the rescue plan?” she yapped.

“Fuzz found Callie in the tube building,” Shep woofed. “We start there, and then open as many cages as we can on our way out.”

Daisy gave Shep a snaggletoothed head tilt. “Not to smell insubordinate, but that's all you've got for a plan?”

“I didn't sniff out the place; Fuzz did.” Shep turned over a moldering box and found only more trash. “When we go back in tonight, I'll get a scent for how the whole kennel is set up and think of something better.”

Daisy snorted and kicked back in the dust. “Blaze was better at this than you are,” she barked. “Callie, too.”

“Thanks, Daisy,” Shep growled.

“And Virgil.”

“I said
thanks
.”

Shep spent the rest of the afternoon digging around his brain for a better plan, something to shove Daisy's snout in, but nothing came to him. He was the kind of dog who worked best in the heartbeat — he was a doer, not a thinker. But he didn't have Callie to think for him now. He had to think for both of them, to save her.

It would be silly to bring every dog in with him to investigate the building — better for only him to get caught than the whole pack. He could sniff things out with Fuzz as lookout, and probably Oscar, since the pup was such a stubborn tick in the fur. The rest could wait by the fence until he had a plan in place. Something even better than what Blaze would have come up with. Probably not as good as what Callie would have thought up, but something.

As the sun began to fall, Shep barked that they should head back to the fence.

“Wait!” howled Ginny. “I've found a den!”

She stood in front of a huge tube, a stretch across at least. It was similar to the tunnel Shep had played in at the Park. The tube seemed to run under the wide street, though Shep could barely see through to its end in the dying light.

“We'd better sniff this out,” he woofed.

The dogs were wary of setting paw in the tube — it was dark, and it smelled terrible. A trickle of grimy water ran along its bottom and the metal under the water was coated in a thick layer of slime. Shep longed for Callie to appear beside him, to see her run headlong into the tube out of sheer curiosity.
Soon
, he told himself.
She'll be back with me soon.

“Last dog through is a soggy kibble,” Shep woofed and raced into the dark.

The tunnel led into a wooded area, and the trickle of water opened into a wide, shallow stream. The dogs followed the stream through the trees. The water grew deeper, and Shep saw at its end an open expanse of water surrounded by fields.

“It's a Park,” he barked. His tail began to wave in wide circles. “Perfect!”

Dover sniffed at a wallow of mud. “Water lizard,” he yipped. “And something else. Both were here not too long ago.” He pricked his ears. “We're not alone in this Park.”

“We don't have to be alone,” Shep said, tail still in full swing. “I'm the alpha of any water lizard or nasty rodent we find. The real nugget is that there aren't any dog catchers in this Park. It's separate from the fenced pavement field. We can free the dogs and then meet back here.”

“So how exactly do we free the others?” yapped Rufus. “I don't know about you, but I don't think I can open any cages with my paws or my teeth.”

The other dogs looked at Shep with raised ears, eager to hear what he'd woof. Daisy gave him her usual head tilt, this time with a distinct snarl of disapproval.

Shep snorted and pawed the ground. “Well,” he began, “first, I'm going to go in and check the place out. Then I'll come up with the plan. And then we'll execute the plan.”

“All in one night?” woofed Boji. She waved her tail, but the look on her muzzle betrayed her doubts.

“Yes,” Shep barked as assuredly as he could. “They'll all be free by next sun.”

Fuzz leapt down from the tree branch he'd been perched upon. “Enough barking. Dogs need to move tail if finish before sun time.”

The sun burned low on the horizon, setting the clouds on fire against the pale blue of the fading sky. Already, a lone flame of the Great Wolf's coat flickered in the dark. The pack agreed to wait by the tree until Shep returned with his rescue plan. As Shep had anticipated, Oscar refused to stay behind, so the pup and the cat followed Shep to the maze of cages.

The humans had lit tall, blinding white lights near the curved-roof building as the sky grew dark; however, their light didn't penetrate all the way to the outer cages. The three invaders were able to hide in the shadows all the way to the opening in the maze where they'd seen people dropped off that morning. As they crept along, Shep sniffed each of the cages, but nothing smelled familiar.
Not that I'd recognize the scent of most of my pack
, he reminded himself. By the time the catchers had come to the boat, the pack had grown so large that Shep hadn't known every dog.

Shep peeked around the edge of the last cage and got his first look inside the maze. His jaw dropped. There were more cages, endless cages — row after row, piled on top of one another, some with one dog, others with as many as three.

Oscar whined, “How will we ever find our pack in this place?”

“Dogs, focus,” Fuzz hissed. “This way to Callie-dog.” He flicked his tail and slunk through the shadows toward the building.

Shep and Oscar followed, pressed to the side of the row of cages. Every once in a while, a captured dog would snap at them from inside the crate, but for the most part, the strangers merely sniffed them, tails wagging. Some asked about their families, whether they'd seen a certain girl with red pigtails like floppy ears or a man with curly brown hair. Shep tried to block out their questions; every woof pulled at him like a thorny branch. He wanted to help them, but that's not why he was there, not now. Now he needed to save Callie.

Fuzz hissed for them to stop several stretches away from the building. The lights scared away every shadow. The three had nowhere to hide.

“Shep-dog get good enough scent of place?” Fuzz meowed. “Time to move tail out of maze.” The cat stared at Shep, but his ears flicked nervously, catching every sound.

“Hey, dog!” a human voice called.

Shep froze. He glanced around him, twitching his ears to catch where the voice came from.

“Here, boy,” the voice said, closer.

Shep saw the person — a young man in pale blue body coverings — two rows over, kneeling in front of a cage. He dragged behind him a bag of kibble, the scent of which set Shep's mouth slobbering.

“Quick,” Shep snuffled. “Pad backward until we hit shadow, then bolt for the opening in the maze.”

They made it out onto the open pavement and under one of the winged Cars without getting caught, but this did not make Shep any more relaxed.

“It's not that there are no humans here at night,” he grumbled. “There may be fewer, but there are still enough to catch every one of us.”

“Shep-dog should forget plan,” Fuzz meow-barked. “Callie-dog safe. Those humans smell good, take care of dogs.”

Shep glared at the furball. “I made a promise to Callie. I'm not going to give up on her.”

Fuzz licked a paw and ran it over his ears. “Fine,” he hissed. “But Shep-dog do rescue for Callie or for self?”

Shep kept his snout shut. He agreed with the cat that the humans seemed to be helping the pets in the cages. At least these dogs had eaten a decent meal this sun, which was more than any in his pack could woof. But these dogs were still in cages and not with their families. Shep felt in his gut that they would all rather be free like he was.

Oscar peered around the metal-stick leg of the winged Car. “What's going on over there?” he woofed.

On the other side of the maze of cages was a huge winged Car — better to call it a winged den, it was so big. There was a hole in the den's body near its tail and a ramp led from the pavement into the hole. At the base of the ramp was a pile of crates, each filled with a barking dog. The ramp must have had some special rug on it: A human placed a cage containing a small, brown dog onto the ramp and the crate was carried up the ramp and into the winged den.

“Why would they put the dogs into the big Car?” Oscar whimpered.

“I don't know,” moaned Shep, though he worried it couldn't be for anything good.

“Winged Cars fly,” Fuzz meowed. “Take dogs far away.”

Shep stared at the cat.
How does he know that?
“You mean, like a bird?”

“Fuzz owner take Fuzz on fly-Car to get Honey-friend as puppy,” he hissed. “Fuzz not happy in fly-Car.” He gagged slightly as if choking back a hairball.

Oscar began to tremble. “Why would they send the dogs away?” he whined. “What about their families?”

“There must be too many of them to care for here,” Shep woofed. He straightened his stance, ears up and tail lifted. He wasn't just doing this for himself. He had to keep the humans from taking Callie away from her home.

“It's too risky to bring Daisy and the others in here,” Shep barked. “But we need to get Callie out before they fly her away in that fat bird-Car.” He glanced back at the cage maze. “Here's the plan — Oscar, you and Fuzz head for the building and get Callie out. I'm going to create a distraction down here. All the humans should come running to me, and that will give you at least a few heartbeats to escape with Callie.”

“Has Shep-dog completely lost brain?” Fuzz roared. “Humans take Shep-dog for sure with that fuzz-head plan.”

“But you'll get Callie out, which is all I care about.”

The humans loaded the last cage into the bird-Car. A man shouted and a little Car pulling a flat, wheeled trailer drove back into the maze —
to get more
.

Shep growled softly. “We have to do this now.”

“I'll create the distraction,” Oscar barked. “You go and get Callie out.”

“No, pup,” Shep grunted. “You won't be able to cause half the ruckus I can.”

“I don't need to do anything except annoy the biggest dog I can find,” Oscar snapped. “And I'm really good at annoying big dogs. As you should know.” He gave Shep a fierce look. “Please, let me do this. I need to do this, to prove I can be a good packmate.”

“Oscar,” Shep woofed, “how many times have I told you — you don't need to prove anything. And I will figure a way to get myself out of here.”

“The pack can't lose you,” Oscar said. “They don't need me. They don't even want me. But they'll be lost for sure without you.” He pricked his ears and lifted his chest. “Plus, I'm small. If I create a big enough mess, I can slip away without the humans seeing me.”

“Small-snout correct,” Fuzz hissed. “Shep-dog come with Fuzz. Let pup do bark-and-bite distraction.”

Oscar's woofs made sense, but Shep felt like a coward, letting the pup run full-snout into danger alone. Then again, who knew what challenges he would face in the building trying to free Callie? Shep could cause a distraction and get caught, and the pup might not be able to reach Callie's cage to open it. No, Oscar was right. He had a good plan.

“Okay,” Shep woofed. “But you meet me back in the Park, pup. No unnecessary heroics.”

Oscar sprang up and licked Shep's nose. “Oh, thank you!” he howled.

“All right,” Shep yipped. “Quiet down before we both get snatched.”

Oscar shut his jaws, though his jowls remained curled in a huge grin. He wagged his tail, then bounded into the dark to search out a cage full of angry big dogs.

“Fuzz lead,” the cat meowed.

“No,” Shep woofed. “Go back to the fence and tell the others the plan. Have them head into the Park and mark a trail with scent, then wait for us there. If the humans follow us, I don't want them stumbling upon the whole pack at the fence. Best to keep the others safe in case Oscar and I need rescuing.”

Fuzz considered Shep's woofs for a heartbeat, then nodded his pink nose and disappeared into the black.

Time for a daring rescue.

 

The moon was high in the sky. Shep crept through the shadows along the edge of the maze. He slipped through the hole they'd found in the outer wall of cages, making his way back toward the tube building. The artificial light from the humans' lamps soon drowned out the silver light of the moon. Shep had to step out into the brightness, leaving the protection of the shadows.

He sniffed the air, though all he could scent was dog and the occasional cat or rodent. He had to trust that there were no humans nearby. He kept low to the ground and scuttled forward across an open path between the cages.

The closer he got to the building, the fewer obstacles he had to hide behind. Then the maze of cages ended. All that separated Shep from the building was an open stretch of pavement. A few Cars slept near the building. In the open space were three large tents under which were crowded plastic tables and chairs. A few humans loitered by one of the tables, staring at a small light-window and shuffling piles of paper.

Shep dashed from his cover and dove under one of the Cars. His body was pressed between the metal belly of the Car and the pavement, but he managed to scooch his way to the front of the Car.

He was now only a stretch away from the outer wall of the building. The tube building itself was open. White lights lined its spine from front to back. There were rows of cages inside, and between each row was a shiny, metal table with boxes and bins stored beneath it. A light hung from a metal arm over each table.

The pets in the cages here were hooked up to beeping human machines or bags and tubes or both. Some were wrapped in strips of cloth, but most lay limp in their cages on ragged towels.

Shep stole from beneath the Car to the edge of the row closest to the outer wall.

“Callie?” he snuffled.

The dog nearest him — a medium-sized black dog, probably a pit bull like Paulie — lifted his snout. “What are you doing out of your cage?” he growled.

“Have you seen a little dog, brown with a black muzzle?” Shep woofed.

The black dog panted. “You must've grown fur on your brain,” he yipped. “What kind of dog
haven't
I seen?”

“Thanks,” Shep grumbled. “You've been extremely helpful.”

Shep padded along the row until there was a break in the cages. A path led from the outer row all the way across the building. In the center of the building, Shep saw a plastic table with a few plastic chairs — and the legs of a human stretched out in front of one of the chairs.

Where's my big distraction, Oscar?
Shep grumbled to himself.

Shep crept along the central path, woofing Callie's name up and down each aisle. When he reached the center of the building, he saw that the legs belonged to a young woman who was fast asleep in the chair. Her head rested along the thin rim of the plastic back and her arms hung limp, draped over the armrest.

It was the closest Shep had been to a human since the storm. A part of him was desperate to nuzzle under her sleeping arm, to feel her hand stroke his fur. He could hardly remember what it felt like to have someone scratch behind his ears. Suddenly, that one bit of skin that he could never scratch properly flared up.

“Shep?”

He turned his snout. And there she was.

Callie's muzzle lit up like a lamp. “Shep!” she yipped. “It's really you!”

Shep trotted to her cage. Callie leapt up on her hind legs. She licked the metal bars and waved her tail ecstatically.

“How did you find me?” she woofed, catching his jowl with her lick. “They took me so far from the boat, I figured I was lost forever.”

“If they'd taken you all the way to the Silver Moon, I'd have found you,” Shep yipped, licking her through the bars.

Callie looked past his ears, then pulled a tube out of her leg with a wince. “We have to hurry,” she snuffled. “They're moving the whole kennel, I think. I've seen them looking over lists and loading dogs into that big winged Car.”

“Just let me slap open this cage,” Shep woofed and began digging with his claws at the latch.

“Shep,” Callie woofed in a solemn tone, “they already took Blaze.”

The name hit him like a rolled newspaper.
Blaze is gone….
He closed his eyes.
She won't ever see her man again, or her beasts. I won't ever get to see her again.
He felt awful that their last woofs to each other had been hurtful; they'd never even gotten to wag tails good-bye. The sadness welled up inside him like a black pool.
No
, he commanded.
I must stay strong. I have to save Callie.

“She was flown out last sun.” Callie nuzzled his paw. “I'm so sorry.”

Shep licked his jowls. “There's nothing we can do about that,” he yipped. “The important thing is to rescue you.”

The dog in the cage next to Callie threw herself against the metal-mesh wall, sending the whole row rattling. Shep glanced at the human. She groaned in her sleep, then snored on.

“Are you trying to get me caught?” he snapped at the dog.

The dog — a small white thing, poodle or shih tzu or something like that — began whimpering pathetically. “I heard you say ‘rescue,' and I need you to rescue me, too, please?” She batted her big black eyes. “I need to get home to my mistress and they said my name when they read the last list and I can't go away from my mistress, PLEASE? I'm so small you'd never even notice me, pleasepleaseplease
PLEASE
!”

Shep dragged the latch on Callie's cage and the door swung open.

“Be quiet!” he growled. “If you shut your snout, I'll open your cage.”

The little dog began furiously wagging her tail. “Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou, you big wonderful fabulous furry ball of snuggleliciousness!”

“Pumpkin, you're being a little dramatic,” Callie grumbled. She pawed the air in front of her cage as if a staircase might magically appear from her cage to the ground.