Storm of Dogs (11 page)

Lucky turned back to the pit. The longpaw outstretched his orange forelegs and whimpered.

Tightness gathered in Lucky's chest.
He won't be drowned. He'll be buried alive.
. . .

With a sickening lurch, Lucky remembered being trapped in the rock bowl, deep within the Fierce Dog's lair. His fur rose along his back as he pictured the high walls. He recalled the airlessness and the knowledge that he couldn't get out. Fear clutched at his chest.
I promised Sweet we'd run at the first sign of trouble.
Why was he hesitating?

“Please,” Mickey whimpered. “We can't abandon him.”

Pity weighed heavily on Lucky and he hesitated, throwing fretful looks over his shoulder, casting about for an object, something that could help. He shook his head. Against his better judgment, he found himself saying, “Get one of those wooden sticks. We'll try to get him out.”

Mickey's tail wagged with relief as he grabbed a stick and dragged it to the edge of the pit. Bella threw Lucky a reproachful look but bent to help to lift the piece of wood with her mouth. Together, the three dogs lowered it down to the longpaw.

Sunshine was hopping anxiously. “The air feels strange! It's strange!” she yipped.

Lucky's ears swiveled back. She was right, something was happening. “Hurry, everyone,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the piece of wood that he clutched in his jaws.

Mickey steered the stick down into the pit, pushing at it with his paws. At first the longpaw hesitated. Then he reached out his forepaws and tried to grip the end of the stick.

The ground bucked violently, and the sound of tearing hardstone filled the air.

“The Growl!” cried Bella.

The wooden stick slipped from the dogs' grip and fell into the pit, narrowly avoiding the cowering longpaw. Lucky's ears flicked down, and he gasped as he looked back at the street. The gray hardstone was splitting in two and wet earth was bursting up between it, twisting and bubbling. The smell of the Endless Lake rose on the air. It was everywhere—around them, above them, even beneath them. The ground trembled and a nearby spoil-box tumbled onto its side, bouncing along the street.

Fear screamed in Lucky's ears, and for a moment he froze with panic. Martha was trembling, Sunshine was a cringing ball of fur, and Bella and Snap were scrambling against each other, trying to run in the confusion.

Only Mickey was still trying to rescue the longpaw. He was tugging at another plank that had sunk at an angle in the trembling ground. He yanked and pulled, easing it free.

Every instinct begged Lucky to run, but he bit down his terror and rushed to Mickey's aid. Together, they started dragging the piece of wood toward the pit. Snapping out of her panic, Martha came to help them. The powerful water-dog was able to lift the plank over the edge of the pit.

The loudbirds had arrived and were hovering over the town. They threw down long furs, and the terrifying yellow-furred longpaws scrambled out to the ground as Lucky had seen them do in the forest. But these longpaws weren't interested in the dogs—they scarcely looked at Lucky and the others as they landed on the street, rushing to round up their own kind.

“They've forgotten about this one,” murmured Mickey as he steered the stick down into the pit, panting with the effort.

The orange longpaw was already half-buried with soil. He scrambled wildly, unable to free himself to reach the stick. Lucky's heart raced.
He isn't going to make it . . . none of us are!

Then he heard Martha's deep voice behind him. “The Lake-Dog is coming, but she will wait until we have left. She is the River-Dog's litter-sister. I sent her my thoughts, and I know she has listened.”

Lucky didn't know if he believed her, but Martha's words reassured him and gave him strength. Sucking in his breath, he helped Mickey angle the stick as Martha lowered it as far as she could.

The ground lurched, sending the longpaw flying. He threw up his paws and grasped the end of the plank. The ground shook and Lucky braced his legs, trying not to stumble as he and the other dogs backed up carefully, heaving the longpaw up with the stick.

The air screeched beneath the wings of the giant birds as it was whipped into a blizzard of dirt and debris. Lucky could hardly open his eyes. His jaw throbbed as he pulled backward. When he risked a glimpse into the swirling air, he was relieved to see the
longpaw reaching his paws over the edge of the pit and scrambling up the stick onto the ground. He rolled onto his side, stunned and panting for breath.

Lucky looked around. The last of the orange longpaws were scrambling up the strips of fur into the bellies of the giant birds. Lucky shouted to Mickey over the noise, “If he doesn't go now, they'll leave without him!”

Mickey was quick to understand. He rushed to the longpaw's side and licked his rough orange fur to revive him. Then he started to head-butt the exhausted longpaw, whining as loudly as he could.

The longpaw no longer seemed to be afraid of Mickey. He rose to a sitting position and reached for the Farm Dog, resting an orange paw across his head.

Mickey whined louder and the longpaw looked around, then seemed to come to his senses. Stumbling onto his hind legs, he started to run with lurching steps, making for the last of the giant birds, which was lifting itself into the sky.

I guess that's all poor Mickey gets for gratitude,
thought Lucky bitterly.
A pat on the head for saving his life.

But as the longpaw reached the strip of fur dangling from the giant bird, he turned around. He stared at the dogs, then reached out his foreleg, barking and beckoning to Mickey. It was clearly an offer.

Snap whined, her tail between her legs.

Lucky felt a whine rising in his throat.
He'll go with the longpaw! It's all he's ever wanted.

Mickey's tail thrashed, and he panted at the longpaw. Then he turned and ran back to the other dogs. He didn't even watch as the longpaw climbed the strip of fur and was helped by others into the belly of the bird, which then rose into the air and flew away toward the forest and far into the distance.

Lucky was astonished. “You've always wanted to be with longpaws, and now, when you had a chance to go with them, you didn't take it!”

“He wasn't
my
longpaw,” Mickey barked. “And anyway, things have changed. I'm not the same dog that I used to be. I don't belong with longpaws anymore. I belong with my Pack.”

Lucky panted happily.
They've all come such a long way,
he thought, bursting with pride. Not even Sunshine was watching the retreating loudbirds as they disappeared with their bellies full of longpaws. Lucky felt a warm flush of affection for all these dogs, who had once resisted losing their leashes and had mourned for so long for their lives before the Big Growl.

The Growl!

Lucky came to his senses. This was no time to relax. The earth was shaking harder, and water was fizzing and spluttering from the yawning gaps in the hardstone street. He cast a wary eye toward the Endless Lake. The water was lifting and bucking furiously, rising in the distance and channeling toward land with great speed.

“It's time to go!” he barked.

As the dogs turned toward the banks of the lake and the jagged path to their camp, a deep rumbling rose from the cliff. They watched, ears pricked and bodies tense, as rocks started tumbling from the cliff face.

“Our path home!” barked Mickey, wild-eyed.

Lucky's pulse raced in his ears. “The rest of the Pack is up there!” he yelped.

The jutting edge of the cliff gave a furious growl and collapsed into the lake.

Lucky stared at the swirling clouds
of dust and dirt that floated around the broken cliff. His heart throbbed with tension. He could think of only one thing:
Sweet!
She was up there, on the cliff, with the rest of their Pack. Were they far enough from the cliff face? Were they safe?

“The lake!” barked Bella.

The dogs spun around to see the bubbling, frantic waters. The giant white wave was charging toward the bank, building every moment, sucking the water nearby into itself. At first it was the size of a loudcage, then a loudbird, then a longpaw house.

“Lake-Dog is eating all the water in her path!” Bella whined. “She's so hungry, she'll swallow the town!”

“Run!” Lucky howled, dashing toward the base of the cliffs. The cracked hardstone was splitting along the length of the street, and salt water burst out, showering Lucky as he ran. The ground bucked beneath him and he rolled onto his side, springing back onto his paws and then running toward the sandy bank of the Endless Lake.

To make it back to camp, they would need to run along the bank—to risk the Lake-Dog's wrath. He turned to glance at the other dogs, who were bounding behind him. Martha's lips were moving. Was she sending her thoughts to the Lake-Dog, begging her to be merciful, to hold down her rage a little longer?

Lucky turned back toward the cliffs. Part of the cliff face had fallen, revealing sharp gray rock. Roots and debris dangled off the exposed edge, and clouds of soil billowed around it, darkening the sky.

“We can't go anywhere near
that!
” Bella barked. “It isn't safe.”

Mickey caught up, staring out over the water. “We'll have to risk running farther along the bank of the lake—there must be another way up the cliffs.”

“But the water is coming!” yipped Daisy, shaking with fear.

Lucky thought furiously. The huge white wave seemed to be quickening to the shore, just as it was growing larger. How far would they make it along the bank before it reached them?

“We have to go
now!
” barked Mickey.

Lucky gave a stiff nod. “Everyone, this way!” He lurched along the bank of the lake, scarcely daring to look out at the pummeling water and the deadly wave that was gathering force. The dogs scrambled on the trembling sand, their legs pulsing and their breath
heaving. They skirted around the cliff, away from the broken cliff face. The rocks rose sharply, impossible to climb.
It's a mistake! We should have risked the broken cliff—we can't get away—we'll be drowned by the wave!
Just as panic seized him, Lucky spotted a path through the rocks that seemed to wind upward through tangles of grass.

Thank the Forest-Dog!

“This way!” he barked, scrambling up the incline. Bella, Snap, and Mickey were right behind him. He turned to check on the others. Daisy was working hard, charging up the rock ridge on her short legs. Martha followed her, carrying Sunshine by her scruff like a puppy.
Of course, poor Sunshine!
In the panic, he had forgotten the little Omega. How lucky they were that Martha was with them. Affection and gratitude coursed through Lucky's limbs.

The path along the edge of the cliffs wound deeper, taking the dogs away from the lake. Soon it plateaued, making it easier to climb. But Lucky was still on edge. High walls of rock surrounded them and the ground was quivering, though not as badly as it had on the beach.
But if the rocks start to collapse, we'll be buried alive!
His tail shot to his flank, and he tried to push the thought away.

Lucky's mind returned to the dogs they'd left behind. He thought of Moon and her pups, Storm, Bruno, even Whine. Most of all, he pictured Sweet. He threw himself forward with all his might, charging along the path up the cliff. His muscles burned, and he fought for breath.
What if something's happened to her? What if our good-bye on the cliff top was the last I'll ever see of her?

He heard a thunder of paws, and Bella appeared at his side. “They'll be okay,” she murmured.

He glanced at her anxiously and didn't answer.

As they reached the top of the cliff, they could see over the jagged rocks down to the Endless Lake. The enormous white wave had overrun the streets of the town, gobbling up houses and sweeping abandoned loudcages into its belly. Lucky shivered with terror.
That was almost us.

It was disorienting to reach the top of the cliffs. They had arrived at a different point from
the one they were used to, but even so it was clear that everything had changed. Part of the slope had collapsed. Lucky's eyes trailed over a deep crater of rock and earth mounds, where an upside-down tree jutted out at an angle, clods of soil dangling from its roots.

The dogs padded warily over the churned-up grass, struggling to get their bearings in such an altered world.

Lucky realized that the ground was no longer shaking beneath his paws.
The Growl has passed. At least it wasn't as bad as last time. The Pack may be okay, if they stayed clear of the cliffs.

“There are the trees and the pond,” whined Sunshine.

The little dog was right—the pond was just up ahead, though Lucky could hardly recognize it. Several of the trees had fallen, and silt-filled water pooled around their trunks. Most of the long grass had been flattened. But it was worse toward the edge of the cliff, which was now much more rugged and ended abruptly at a sheer drop.