Bones: The Complete Apocalypse Saga (14 page)

On the other side of the collapse, Bones made his way to the flat car, which had been knocked over and half-buried in the tube-worm attack. He gave it a quick sniff-around but then walked to the gnarled edge of the mine shaft and sniffed out into the darkness. He could hear the gigantic beast out in front of him but couldn’t see a thing. The lack of smell didn’t help, which only confused the shepherd. But then, like a miracle, he picked up another smell nearby. It was the rich, dry soil he’d smelled earlier in the day, both during the underground multipede attack but also as he’d just descended into the mine. It represented the layer of earth that was near enough to the surface that any scent of it this far underground must have been coming in courtesy of another mine shaft, one that represented a way out.

Bones sniffed around the cavern wall alongside the mouth of the devastated mine shaft, his whiskers detecting that it was covered with small, jagged outcroppings made by the descent of the great, cacophonous engine currently plowing its way to the earth’s core in the center of the cavern. Bones took a first, tentative step out to one of the rocks, found it solid enough to take his weight, then took a second step, then a third and then a fourth out onto the sloping wall, using his whiskers to plot a course as best he could. The journey was treacherous and Bones was continually off-balance as he went, finding himself less than sure-footed in the dark. But he went slowly, making the first dozen feet or so, gingerly stepping from outcropping to outcropping.

Then the ground beneath his feet gave way.

With a startled yelp, Bones tumbled down the side of the cavern wall along with a cloud of rocks and dust he kicked up as he went. He scratched at the slope to regain his footing, but gravity kept pulling him back down until he was finally rolling head over heels a good hundred feet. Then he finally stopped after bouncing into something soft, like a rubber cushion.

Bones leapt back onto his feet and knew at once that what he’d struck was alive: the anemone. The shepherd started barking, his whiskers twirling against the fleshy creature’s outer layer. The noise of the creature’s digging was so loud that Bones’s cries could hardly be heard. But then, he felt something moving through the air directly towards him and leaped out of the way at the last second.

This time, the attack was two-fold, tentacles and tube worms both, bashing themselves into the rocks where Bones had just stood as he bounded away. Even though he couldn’t see his attackers, Bones’s other senses could feel their approach, and he began a pattern of dives and feints as he dodged out of the way, the ground erupting directly behind him with great force as the creatures zeroed in on his warmth.

Bones’s nose caught the scent of that dry near-surface soil again, and he made a beeline for its source. Even though it was steep and would inevitably slow his progress, Bones leaped onto the rocky wall of the cavern and struggled to ascend. All around the shepherd, the worms and tentacles plunged after him, causing minor earthquakes that continually knocked Bones off his feet. Some of these proved fortuitous, since Bones would be thrown in a different, unpredictable direction, out of the firing line of an incoming worm.

But Bones was also starting to feel the touch of the tentacles that just missed him as well as the heat emanating from the mouths of the predatory worms. It was only a matter of time.

That’s when a great light suddenly illuminated the cavern, followed by the roar of an explosion that was louder even than the machinations of the anemone. All of the worms and tentacles instantly retracted from Bones’s location and moved to this new heat source, only to be ignited by the ensuing, fiery devastation and battered under a hail of boulders. Behind Bones, the anemone was visible again, looking even more monstrous than before as its tentacles caught fire, throwing long shadows across the main body of the monster as it flailed around in desperation.

Even with the smell of burning flesh in his nose, Bones could still pick out where the mine shaft was ahead of him and raced forward towards the source. As he ran, a
second
explosion from the opposite side of the cavern—another mine shaft—showered the anemone with super-heated rocks and earth. This was immediately followed by a third, coordinated blast that had the effect of shaking the entire cavern, which began caving in on itself.

With the ground shaking beneath his feet, Bones raced up the side of the cavern and finally reached an open mine shaft. The smell of the soil, tinged again with the oil and grease of mining equipment, filled Bones’s nose as he galloped up the pitch-black tunnel. Behind him, a fourth explosion went off, quickly followed by a fifth, then a sixth. The roar of the drilling tube worms was soon drowned out completely by the tremendous din of the collapsing mine.

I
t was afternoon by the time Bones clambered out of the mine shaft, now solid black in color, so covered in coal dust was he. A jumpy National Guardsman almost shot him when he appeared, walking out of the mine, panting, but then Corporal Romeo spotted him and gave up a cheer.

“Bones!”

Romeo raced over to the police dog, who gave him a couple of sniffs, followed quickly by a friendly lick on the hand. The Guardsman, who a second before had almost shot him, stared at the dog, shaking his head.

“That’s the fucking wonder-dog?” he asked, incredulous.

“Bones,” Romeo said. “His name’s Bones. And he’s got more lives than a goddamn pussy cat. Don’t ya, Bones?”

Bones looked up at Romeo, happy to be petted but thirsty and desirous of water to wash out his throat and help recharge his nose. After Romeo had gotten to his feet to announce the discovery of the dog to the others, Bones noticed some rainwater that had gathered in the wheel well of a nearby truck and went over to drink it.

It turned out that the interest in Bones was mostly short-lived as the military operation over the mine had bigger fish to fry at the moment. A pair of servicemen were tasked with leading Bones out of the mine pit where he was placed on a truck and, luckily, given a big bowl of water and a couple of energy bars. He devoured each in a single bite. No longer hungry, he lay down with his head resting on his paws as hundreds of National Guardsmen and army regulars were marched past and into the pit.

Bones was asleep within seconds.

•  •  •

“You’ve had a hell of a day, huh, Bones?”

Hearing the most familiar of voices, Bones’s eyes opened, and his nose inhaled the most familiar of smells. He looked up from the hospital blanket that had been placed on the floor for him and saw retired police sergeant Lionel Oudin looking down at him from a stool. Bones, half-covered in bandages, with parts of his fur shaved away to allow for a couple of surgeries, excitedly got to his feet and licked Lionel’s hands before planting his paws on his old master’s knees and raising up to lick his face, too. Lionel chuckled.

“Easy there, Bones. You’re a lot more hurt than you realize.”

Bones didn’t seem to notice or care. He continued to lick at Lionel’s face and Lionel let him. After a moment, the old man climbed down off the stool and sat on the linoleum floor next to Bones, running his hands over the dog’s back, shoulders, forelegs, haunches, paws, throat, snout, and even tail, hunting for injuries the doctors might have missed. Lionel frowned when he felt the dozens of small cuts in the pads of all four of Bones’s feet but was gratified to find that a large one over his right eye was already beginning to heal, which he felt boded well for the others. When he’d finally finished his inspection, he shook his head.

“You’re a real hard case, you know that, Bones?” Lionel said. “It’s guys on the force like you who made me retire when I did; figured your gung-ho, rushing-in-where-angels-fear-to-tread bullshit was going to get me shot. But you did a good job of work today. That thing was apparently trying to drill straight down to the earth’s core to get to the heat. It wasn’t even supposed to be here. Some idiot pulled it up from a hydrothermal vent under the Arctic. Only, then, Mr. Einstein accidentally brought it into contact with some heavy-duty industrial macronutrient fertilizers and then took them home with him for the weekend.”

Lionel turned to Bones with a wry grin. “
Whoops
.”

“They said it’s some kind of big chemistry set down there and that all life on Earth probably originated around hydrothermal vents. I told them they were lucky their little monster decided to wreak havoc on land, because my dog doesn’t like to swim. They’d have been fucked, eh, Bones?”

Bones was now lying at Lionel’s feet. It looked like the exertion of his greeting had wiped him out all over again. Lionel smiled.

“Well, you get some more rest, Bones. Officially, Pittsburgh, the military, everybody else, they’re going all Three Mile Island, saying it was some kind of gas cloud and oh-what-a-tragedy. ‘Unprecedented.’ More safety regulations on the mining industry, etc. Upshot is, the mayor’s not going to be giving you a medal in front of the courthouse any time soon. Sorry about that. Worse, they’re going to retire you just because they’re assholes. Well, mainly because your injuries are so bad but also because they’re assholes. They asked me if I could take you, but I told them the truth; I’m an old man now. They’d find you eating my fingers in a few months when I had a stroke in the shower. I think we’re cooking up another solution, though. You might find it appealing.”

Lionel looked at Bones for his reaction, but the shepherd was already fast asleep.

•  •  •

Ryan knew the rules. Don’t tell the other kids or teachers what you saw or did because they won’t believe you and they’ll just freak out. Uncle Norman and Aunt Ronelle know some but not all of the story, and it’d probably be better to keep it that way. If anyone puts two and two together of where you’re actually transferring in from and starts asking questions, the best thing to do is say that you got knocked out during the “toxic event” and only remember things beginning after you woke up in the hospital.

As he got ready for his second week of school now in Morgantown, three counties away from Duncan and just across the state line into West Virginia, Ryan ran through everything the government social worker, Mr. Wieseltier, had told him back at the hospital about how things were going to be once he got out. He had told Mr. Wieseltier that all he wanted to do was go home, get his things, bury his dog. See his mom and sister. Mr. Wieseltier had gone silent for a moment but then told Ryan that they would make arrangements for him to do this, but it might take time.

Ryan knew this meant never.

“Ryan? You’re going to miss your bus,” came the voice of Aunt Ronelle from downstairs.

Ryan gathered his books, a math book and social studies reader, and stuffed them into his backpack before remembering he’d left his spelling homework on his desk. He added it to the mix and headed downstairs, limping a little as he moved. He started to grab for his leg, but then just took a deep breath and let the pain recede. He hadn’t noticed when it happened, but when the flesh-eaters knocked the paddy wagon he was riding in over onto the highway, Ryan had been launched off the steel bench he’d been sitting on, only to bash his leg into the bench on the opposite side of the van. By the time he had reached the hospital that would be his home for the next couple of weeks, doctors told him that the wound had cut deep enough to cause damage to both the soleus and gastrocnemius muscles in his right calf as well as a handful of nerves. It was so bad, in fact, that once it healed completely, Ryan was scheduled for at least two skin graft operations.

“Coming, Ronelle,” Ryan called down, then headed towards the stairs.

As soon as he reached the first floor, though, he saw through the front window that the yellow school bus had just pulled away from the curb. His aunt, having seen the same thing, was walking in from the kitchen with an exasperated look on her face, which she instantly transformed into a smile when she saw her nephew.

“That’s okay, sweetie,” she said, reassuringly. “Just let me find my keys. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Nah, I’ll walk,” Ryan replied, heading for the back door.

“Oh, honey, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Your leg.”

Ryan took a couple of practice steps to show that his leg was just fine.

“I think I can manage. I’m supposed to exercise it, right?”

Ronelle looked him up and down for a moment but then nodded in agreement.

“Okay. You won’t get lost, will you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Ryan said, managing a smile.

Ryan walked out the back door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he headed to a fenced-in enclosure at the back of the yard. Even though the entirety of the large, suburban backyard was fenced in, there was a separate, smaller, dog run style section closed-off against the back fence, complete with a dog house. In front of the house was Bones, lying down with his nose in the grass. When Ryan approached, he quickly got to his feet.

“Missed my bus. Want to walk me to school?”

Bones eyed Ryan expectantly. Ryan smiled and opened the gate. Bones quickly bounded through it, and the pair headed for the side gate that led out to the driveway.

As they walked through the neighborhood, Ryan kept an eye on Bones, who sniffed this hedge or that, urinated on a couple of telephone poles, and completely ignored the barked warnings of half a dozen house dogs along the way. Ryan figured Bones would eat these lesser beasties for breakfast if they actually tried anything.

They moved from the neighborhood into a small wooded area that separated the residential subdivision from the nearby schools (an elementary and junior high sharing the same large parcel of land). A well-worn foot path had been cut through the stand of trees and crossed a narrow creek before emptying out directly onto the practice field behind Ryan’s new school. Bones was trailing along a few feet back but was still shadowing Ryan pretty closely. As they crossed the creek, the shepherd inhaled the various scents of the animals that used the creek as a source of water. Raccoons and possum, mostly. He was still sniffing at these when Ryan reached the edge of the woods, just at the edge of the practice field, and stopped. He looked down at Bones, whose whiskers were still twiddling in the air, and then kneeled beside him.