Matt and his dad stood still, waiting. Matt’s arms were covered in goose bumps, despite the heat.
But after a moment, Scout seemed to decide that there was no threat. His body language changed entirely—he went from being on guard back to search mode in an instant. Scout dropped his head back to the ground, sniffing for Dev’s scent trail and picking up his steady pace again. His tail was up, and he was alert—like a soldier on the battlefield.
Matt breathed out.
“These K-9s never stop amazing me,” Matt’s dad said as they moved quickly behind Scout. “Their brains are like . . . I don’t know, like computers. Their senses are on full blast every second of the day. Whatever you and I are seeing and smelling and hearing, they’re constantly picking up a million times more.”
“And Scout is one of the best search-and-rescue dogs of all time,” Matt said proudly. “If anyone can track Dev, I know it’s him.”
Scout disappeared around a curve. When Matt and his dad caught up to him, they found him sitting in front of a fork in the trail. That’s weird, Matt thought. Is Scout unsure which way to go?
Matt started to dig Dev’s harness out of his pack again, thinking maybe Scout needed a refresher. But as soon as Matt brought it over to him, the dog took off again, bolting up the right fork. He moved so fast he was a whoosh of brown-and-white fur.
Matt had to laugh: Scout had only been waiting for the slow humans bringing up the rear.
Matt was out of breath as he and his dad double-timed it up the rocky path. Scout skimmed his nose along the ground, the edges of the trail, and the rocks that jutted out all around them. He sniffed at the air, the sagebrush, and the twisting tree branches that had dried out and littered the ground. Scout was practically gliding, moving smoothly through the heat.
Seeing Scout from a distance, Matt noticed for the first time how much the dog had changed in the past few months, since he’d arrived in Nevada. Scout was in the same long-legged, muscular body, and he was as quick-footed and precise as always. His prancing stride was still a weird mix of goofy and graceful, and he was still bursting with barely contained enthusiasm. Matt’s mom often said that when Scout was working, he had the energy of all the rest of her K-9 unit dogs combined.
But now, as Matt watched Scout effortlessly climb Mount Kit, he saw something else. Scout looked like the same dog, but he was different—he had doubled in strength and determination. Scout was more mature and confident. More powerful.
Fiercer.
Scout zipped out of sight. Matt and his dad trudged along without speaking, the only sound the crunching of their boots on the rough and rocky path. Matt didn’t need to see Scout to know that he was totally focused on following Dev’s scent. And Scout would let Matt know right away if he found something—or someone. That’s what he was trained—and born—to do.
The acrid smell of smoke was growing stronger as they climbed. Matt scanned the hillside around them but saw no signs of fire on Mount Kit. The smoke still seemed to be traveling from the next ridge over on the light, hot breeze.
Matt kept one eye on the direction of the smoke and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Sweat dripped down his forehead. If they weren’t on such an urgent mission, he’d be enjoying the beauty of the mountain that rose up around them. He’d be closing his eyes and breathing in the warm, fragrant air.
But now all he could do was picture his friends trapped somewhere in the nooks and crags of this rough landscape—and imagine the look on Dev’s face when Matt and Scout showed up out of nowhere.
Suddenly, from around the next bend, they heard a sound that made Matt’s blood run cold: Scout was barking frantically, aggressively—like a wild animal. It was a sound Matt had never heard before, and one that he hoped never to hear again.
Matt and his dad broke into a sprint and came around the bend to find Scout scuttling sideways, back and forth across the path. He was barking madly, steadily, with his tail between his legs and his eyes locked on something a few yards ahead, in the brush on the side of the mountain.
As Matt followed Scout’s gaze, trying to see what he saw, he felt his dad’s arm stretching across his chest. His dad was holding him still.
“Don’t move,” his dad said softly. He scanned the rocks and brush all around them, his eyes and ears taking in and assessing volumes of information. He was in full soldier mode. It occurred to Matt that his dad and Scout both had the same way of instantly snapping into intense focus.
The hair on the back of Matt’s neck stood up.
They waited and watched.
Suddenly Scout dropped the front of his body into a low crouch. He bared his teeth and pressed his ears back, flat against his head. A strip of fur along his spine stood up, and a low, angry growl emanated from his throat. The sound was disembodied, like it was coming from somewhere outside of him.
At the same moment, Matt’s eyes locked on a dark shape in the foliage as it came into focus: It was a black bear.
8
MATT’S DAD SUCKED IN HIS BREATH. The bear was big—standing on all fours it was taller than Matt, with broad shoulders and a solid, round middle.
Scout’s snarl deepened, and all signs of Matt’s happy, eager dog were gone.
Scout was shaking with a barely contained rage—the pure instinct of one animal facing another. Only in this case, that other animal was much bigger, and way more dangerous. Still in his crouch, Scout began to step slowly sideways, as if he was about to circle his prey.
The bear followed Scout with its beady black eyes. It was calm but Matt knew that it could spring into violent action in the time it took him to blink. It studied Scout carefully, sizing up the dog as if it was assessing whether Scout was a threat—or maybe its next meal.
Matt scanned the brush around the bear, looking for any cubs. If this was a mother, and she was protecting her babies, she would attack—and stop at nothing to protect them. He didn’t see any smaller bears, but that didn’t mean they weren’t nearby.
Matt’s heart was beating so hard he could feel it knocking against his ribs. Blood pounded in his ears, blocking out all other sound. As if he were watching a silent movie, he looked from Scout to the bear and back again. The animals were staring each other down—each daring the other to make a move.
Matt felt as if they were all just standing there, waiting for an overfilled balloon to pop.
“Okay, Matt,” his dad said in a calm, clear voice. “You know what to do.” As he spoke, he gradually held both arms out to the side and raised them up slowly over his head, then lowered them back down. He repeated the gesture until the bear shifted its cold stare onto him. Matt’s dad was trying to make himself seem bigger than he was, and he was using his voice to let the animal know they were human.
“Yeah, Dad,” Matt replied in the same soothing voice, though his was a little shaky. The bear’s eyes darted toward him, and Matt felt light-headed. He and his dad had spent a lot of time in the woods together, and his dad had been repeating the rules for a bear encounter Matt’s entire life. But this was the closest they’d ever come to one, and the first time Matt had ever engaged in a staring contest with an animal five times his size. He swallowed the lump of fear in this throat. “I know what to do. We’re going to give it lots of space, and we’re going to keep talking.”
Matt raised his arms in the air and moved them up and down, just like his dad.
“Good, Matt-o. Stay calm. Don’t run—”
“Don’t climb any trees.”
“Don’t yell or make it seem like you’re a threat.”
“Got it.”
“Can you get the bear spray out of your pocket?”
“Yep.” Matt kept his right arm in the air and reached for the canister of pepper spray with his left. He was glad they’d remembered to bring it, but using it meant they had to get close enough to the bear for it to work. Matt honestly hoped they didn’t have that chance.
“Give it to me.”
Matt slowly
passed the spray to his dad, who removed the safety clip.
Without warning, the bear opened its massive jaw wide and snapped it shut with a snort. Matt bit his lip hard to prevent even the slightest gasp from escaping.
Scout took one step toward the bear, and his growl grew louder. “Scout!” Matt cried before he could stop himself. He realized in horror that Scout thought the bear was threatening him and his dad—and the dog was prepared to do whatever it took to protect them.
The bear’s ears went back on its head, and it let out a loud, angry grunt at Scout.
Dread washed over Matt. If Scout charged at the bear—or acted antagonistic in any way—the bear would attack.
And Scout wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Scout,” Matt said, steadying his voice as best he could. “Stay.” Scout’s ears flicked toward the sound of Matt’s voice. He looked undecided for a second, but he stayed put.
“Good boy,” Matt said, still in the same even voice.
The bear raised a giant paw and took one lumbering step toward them.
Despite Matt’s command, Scout couldn’t fight his nature. His fangs bared, he took another step toward the bear, closing the distance between them.
“Calm, Matt,” his dad breathed. “Stay calm.”
Matt was trying, but he was close to full-on panic. Scout’s life was in his hands. Matt had to be the pack leader and give Scout a command firm enough to overcome the dog’s most basic instincts, but he had to do it in a voice and tone that didn’t alarm the bear.
Could he pull that off?
“He’ll listen to you,” Matt’s dad said, knowing exactly what Matt was struggling with. “You got this.”
Matt inhaled sharply through his nose and exhaled slowly through his mouth. His shaking hands had clenched into fists, and his fingernails dug into his palms. He opened and closed his hands a few times, feeling his fingers tingle.
“Scout,” Matt said, summoning every bit of self-control to keep his tone strong and even and at just the right frequency. Scout’s ears twitched. “Scout,” Matt cautioned again, his voice a little steadier this time. The most important thing he could do was mean it. Matt needed to let Scout know that no matter the pitch of his voice, he was the boss.
Matt inhaled again, this time deep into his belly. When he spoke, he projected a firm voice, filled with conviction—but still in the lower register that wouldn’t startle the bear. “Scout—siiit.” Matt drew out the vowel sound and landed hard on the consonant to capture the dog’s attention.
It worked. Scout sat.
“Good boy.”
Matt and his dad stood side by side, holding their breath. Scout was still shaking and growling softly, his eyes locked on the bear, but he sat in place.
The bear sized them up one last time.
And then, at last, it turned away and ambled off into the brush.
It was gone.
Matt let out a cry of relief. His dad clapped him on the back.
“That was amazing. You did great, Matt.”
Matt was shaking now too, and he bent over with his hands on his knees and took a few breaths to calm himself down. Scout remained seated, whining and staring anxiously after the bear.
“Scout’s the one who did great,” Matt said. “Come here.” Scout hopped up and ran to Matt. Matt dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around Scout’s chest. “Good job, buddy, good job,” he said into Scout’s soft fur. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
After a moment, Matt pulled back and gave Scout a kiss on the muzzle. Scout licked Matt on the cheek.
“You both did great,” his dad said.
“Thanks.” Matt shrugged.
“Look at me, Matt.”
Matt stood up and looked at his dad.
“Seriously, Matt-o. You were very brave. You just saved our lives.”
“No—I . . .” Matt was confused. Had he? “I didn’t mean to be brave. I mean, I didn’t feel . . . I just wanted to save Scout, that’s all.”
“Take it from me, pal,” his dad said. “You and Scout have something really special. Your mom told me, but seeing it in action is different.” He shook his head in amazement. “But that’s not the only thing that just blew my mind.”
He shot Matt a funny look, and Matt thought he saw something shiny in his dad’s eye.
“I just saw my son acting like a real soldier. Calm and in control. You knew what you had to do to solve the problem, and you did it.” His dad wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him in close. “You’re not a little boy anymore, Matt.”
A weird feeling began to stir in Matt’s chest. It wasn’t something he’d felt often before, and it took him a second to recognize the sensation of fullness and strength that made him stand up a tiny bit straighter.
It was pride.
He liked the feeling.
9
THEY WERE GETTING CLOSE TO the top of Mount Kit.
Matt could tell because there was a lot less mountain—and a lot more sky above them. The peak loomed directly over their heads, shooting hundreds of feet into the flat gray sky. If he squinted at the pointy rocks at the apex, Matt felt like he could practically reach out and touch them.
They had been hiking for hours, and they were so high up that Matt felt perched above the clouds. He turned and cast his gaze outward, away from Mount Kit and over the valley below. From his vantage point, he could see for miles.
Even with so much at stake, Matt was struck by the astounding beauty of his surroundings. For the first time all day, he understood why Dev had been so excited about this hike. Under any other circumstances, Matt would have loved it too.
The trail grew steeper and narrower with every step Matt took, until it was practically a vertical climb. Matt’s worry grew with the altitude—there wasn’t much farther to go, and if they were almost at the top, then where were his friends? Why hadn’t they found them yet?
Matt, his dad, and Scout came around a bend in the path and heard the faint sound of rushing water. Matt followed the sound and Scout followed a scent, and soon they were peeking around a large boulder at an amazing sight: In a clearing just ahead, a powerful cascade of water splashed and tumbled twenty feet down a cliff, ending in a swirling pool ringed with boulders.
It was the waterfall. The same waterfall in the video Dev had sent that morning.
That meant it was the last place they knew Matt’s friends had been.
A ray of hope spreading in his chest, Matt ran into the clearing. Scout dashed ahead of him, sniffing at the wet rocks. As Matt got close to the waterfall, a fine mist of water cooled his face and arms, but he barely noticed. He scanned high and low, behind every rock and in every shadow, searching for any sign of his friends. “Dev!” he cried. “Amaiya! Curtis! Where are you?”
The sound of the raging waterfall drowned out Matt’s voice.
But it didn’t matter, because there was no one there. The beautiful spot was ominously empty.
Matt’s dad appeared at his side. “This is where they were this morning?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Matt said, his stomach sinking. “But they’re not here now.” He kicked at a fat boulder along the water’s edge and let out a yell of frustration.
“Matt—take it easy,” his dad said, his voice kind but firm. “We’ve come this far. We’ll find them.”
Matt turned away and buried his face in his hands. He wished he could believe him.
“Stay focused,” his dad said. “Don’t give in to the feelings.”
His dad was right, and Matt knew it.
Matt took a deep breath and, using every ounce of will he had left, pushed away the despair and doubt. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Freaking out is not going to help my friends, Matt told himself. Finding solutions will.
Matt raised his head and looked his dad in the eye. “Okay,” he said, steadying his voice. “They’re not here, and we didn’t pass them on their way down as we came up. That means they’re still on this mo
untain somewhere. They have to be above us.”
“Good,” his dad said. “Now you’re thinking clearly.”
“We have to find the overhang,” Matt went on. “Where Dev said they’d go off the trail to rock climb.” He pointed at the summit. “Let’s keep moving.”
As Matt spoke, Scout zipped past them. Matt watched his dog make a beeline back toward the trail and recognized Scout’s purposeful gait.
“I think Scout still has Dev’s scent,” Matt said. “Go! Follow him.”
Matt and his dad took off after Scout as he galloped through the brush. The dog hopped lightly over downed trees and skirted large rocks with ease, but Matt and his dad had to pick their way along more carefully. By the time they made it back to the trail and started to climb again, the late-afternoon sky had begun to darken.
But Matt could tell that it wasn’t just because of the time.
The air was growing hazy with smoke.
The hot breeze that had been blowing all day had picked up, warming his skin and carrying with it the increasingly intense, harsh odor of charred wood. Matt’s throat itched and his lungs burned like he had breathed in shards of glass. He could taste the smoke as much as smell it.
Matt pulled his T-shirt up over his mouth and nose to filter the air as much as he could. He coughed, feeling like his lungs were squeezing him from the inside out.
Matt watched the smoke as it moved across the sky. He tracked it back to its source and saw that it still seemed to be coming from the mountain to the north—not from the peak of Mount Kit above them.
But it still felt way too close for comfort.
Matt glanced over at his dad and could tell he was thinking the same thing. His dad scanned the sky and checked his watch, then studied the rocky crags that towered over them.
Matt’s calves twinged, and he felt blisters forming on his feet. Between his exhaustion, the late hour, the fading light, and the smoke closing in around them, Matt heard the countdown clock ticking loudly in his head.
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