Max raised his snout, facing their earlier path.
Behind him, the snake called out, “I’m still waiting!”
Max ignored the creature, focusing on the wolf scent. He couldn’t tell if it was just any pack of wolves… or if it was their old enemy, Dolph.
Gizmo asked, “Do you think it’s Dolph? After he got burned in the riverboat fire, would he really come all this way just to get us?”
“Dolph is deranged,” Rocky grumbled. “I’m surprised he’s able to find other wolves to follow him.”
“Dolph or not,” Max said, “we need to get out of this swamp.” He licked Rocky’s forehead. “You sure you’re up for talking to the snake?”
Rocky gulped. “Not at all. But I’ve managed to talk us out of danger before!”
Gizmo nuzzled Rocky’s neck. “Be careful, Rocky. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
Rocky’s spiky tail wagged. “Sure you do. You’d get vengeance on my behalf. That’s why you’re so great.”
Gizmo sighed. “If he starts snapping at you, run. Okay?”
A loud, metallic clang echoed through the air, and all three dogs turned to see the boa constrictor, its fat tail raised. “Time’s up!” the snake hissed. “What’s your choice?”
Holding his head high, Rocky moved to stand in front of the boa constrictor. Gizmo curled into Max’s side, her body trembling.
“They’re not happy, as you can see,” Rocky said. His voice was strong and confident, with no trace of fear. “But,” the Dachshund went on, “I’ve decided to offer myself up to you in exchange for letting them pass.”
The boa constrictor sat still, staring at Rocky. “How very… noble.”
With a wave of his front paw, Rocky said, “It’s nothing, really. You see, you might think the big dog back there is the leader, but he’s just the muscle. I’ve always been the one in charge, and I vowed to protect these two simple, silly mutts. Even if I must make this most devastating of sacrifices.”
The snake looked between Rocky and the other two dogs. Sensing the creature’s suspicion, Max sobbed loudly. “I sure will miss our fearless leader,” he cried.
Catching on, Gizmo let out a wail. “We’ll always remember you, Rocky!”
Rocky shook his head. “Now, now, mutts. You know this is how it has to be. Just promise to live… for me.”
The snake said, “Hmm. Usually my meals put up more of a fight. Well, a deal is a deal.” And the boa opened its jaws wide, revealing pink gums.
“Wait!” Rocky bellowed.
Startled, the boa constrictor snapped its mouth shut. “What?”
“How am I supposed to know you’ll live up to your end of the deal?” Rocky said. “Tell my friends which way to go, and let them free! I mean, this is a big deal for me. If I’m going to spend my evening being slowly digested, I need to know you’re not lying.”
The snake slapped the end of its tail against the bridge, and once more, the grating rattled beneath Max’s feet.
“I’m not lying.” The snake hissed. “How do I know you’re not lying? If I point your friends toward the right path and let them go, how do I know you aren’t going to play some trick on me?”
Rocky raised a paw. “Hey, I’m the one standing in front of your big, gummy mouth. Would I do that if I was trying to trick you?”
The snake flicked its tongue. “Well—”
“So really,” Rocky interrupted, “it’s just you who has to prove you’re trustworthy. If you won’t let my friends pass before you eat me, then show us some other proof that you’re not lying.”
“But I—”
Rocky jumped up on his hind legs. “Okay, I’m going to ask you a true-or-false question. Based on your answer, I’ll know if we can trust you.”
With a sigh, the boa constrictor pulled itself into a tight, tense coil. The creature was not pleased.
“Fine!” the snake spat. “If it’ll get you in my belly without any more yapping, ask away.”
Rocky leaned in close to the snake. “Is it true,” he asked, “that boa constrictors are too fat to swim?”
The snake laughed. “That’s your question? That’s false, of course! We’re not too fat to swim. I am all muscle.”
Rocky’s tail drooped. “Oh, I hoped you would keep your word,” he said sadly, turning to rejoin Max and Gizmo.
“Where are you going?” The snake hissed. “I told you the truth!”
“No, you didn’t!” Rocky called over his shoulder. “Obviously nothing as big as you could swim without sinking to the bottom and drowning, especially since you don’t have any legs to paddle with. If you’d lie about swimming, how can we trust anything you say?” Rocky shook his head. “No, we’ll just have to find some other way across.”
The snake thrashed back and forth in a rage, making the vines and moss tremble.
“Fine!” the boa constrictor bellowed. “I’ll prove it to you! But just remember, you still need me to know which path to take. Go to the fork in the road. I’ll swim there and meet you.”
And as the dogs watched with barely contained glee, the giant boa constrictor slithered to the edge of the bridge, dangled over, and let itself drop to the swampy valley below. The three friends scrambled to the guardrail just in time to see the snake’s body land in the murky water with a giant splash.
“You did it!” Gizmo said, leaping in the air. “You got it out of our way!”
Max laughed and licked Rocky. “You’re one smooth talker!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rocky said, wagging his tail. “But we can’t celebrate too long. Let’s get across this stupid bridge and figure out which path to take before that snake actually swims to shore!”
CHAPTER 8
SWAMP ROADS
The dogs raced across the bridge and soon found themselves running on rough asphalt.
Behind them, Max could hear the slapping of waves as the boa constrictor slithered through the stagnant water. He had no idea how fast snakes could swim, but he didn’t want to stick around and find out.
Reaching the fork in the road, the three dogs stopped and immediately spun in circles.
“Do you see any beacons?” Max asked. “Do any of the weeds look like they’ve been trampled by tires recently, the way they would have if the old lady had driven her car through?”
Rocky bounded back and forth. “I don’t see anything,” he said. “Both roads look exactly the same!”
Max had to agree. A forest of towering trees surrounded the two roads, and clinging vines and moss had overtaken everything in sight. Neither path looked particularly inviting. Both seemed as if they could easily lead to more of the giant lizard monsters.
Splashes echoed from the swamp valley, and the snake’s voice sputtered out, “See! I made it to shore just fine! Now let me get up this hill, and we’ll finish our deal.”
Another gust of wind rustled through the trees, and mingling with the musty stench of the swamp was the sharp, distinct smell of nearby wolves.
Panicking, Rocky spun in a figure eight. “We gotta hurry, guys. I don’t think I can trick the snake again.”
Max was about to pick a road at random when he noticed Gizmo had run ahead, her snout to the ground.
“I smell Georgie!” she cried. “This way! We need to go right!”
“How do you know?” Max asked as he and Rocky trotted to her side.
“Because I picked up his scent,” Gizmo said happily. “Georgie came this way, and since he’s following the old lady, this is where we need to go.”
Trembling, Rocky looked back over his shoulder. “Are you absolutely sure it’s the right smell? I don’t know if that snake was just making up stories, but I really don’t want to go the wrong way and end up meeting that Mudlurker guy.”
Gizmo opened her mouth to answer, just as they heard a rustling near the bridge. All three dogs could make out the slick, mottled green scales of the boa constrictor as it reached the top of the muddy incline.
“Never mind!”
Rocky yipped. “I trust you! Let’s go!”
The three dogs galloped down the darkened road. As they reached a bend, they heard the snake hiss in rage.
“I’ll get you!” it screamed. “You lying mutts, I’ll get all of you!”
But Max was sure there was no way the snake could catch up to the three dogs. For the first time in hours, he felt himself flooded with relief.
The winding stretch of road veered once more to the west—Max could tell by the hazy glow of the sun behind the clouds. Knowing directions by the position of the sun was a handy ability brought on by the Praxis virus. Confident that they were safe for the moment, he slowed down to a fast walk.
“Do you still smell Georgie?” Rocky asked Gizmo after he’d caught his breath.
Gizmo raised her head high and sniffed at the humid air. “I do,” she confirmed. “But just barely. His scent was strong back there, though.”
Max raised his own nose to smell. He did catch the faintest strains of another dog, but he’d have to take Gizmo’s word that it was Georgie’s, since he hadn’t memorized the scent himself. Mostly, though, he was relieved not to smell any wolves.
He was about to lower his snout when his nose picked up another odor. Something instantly familiar.
Possum.
A tree branch to his left moved slightly, and through the leaves he caught a glimpse of a fat, gray body marked with scars.
Max marched toward the line of trees. Leaping over a puddle, he bared his teeth and growled up at the branch, hackles raised.
The branch ceased its rustle.
“Hey!” Max said. “I already saw you, Hank. I know you’re up there.”
“That possum is here?” Rocky asked.
Max didn’t answer. Instead, he stomped to the base of the tree, then leaped up with his front paws pressed against the smooth bark. Rearing back his head, he barked as loudly and angrily as he could.
Terrified squeals rose up, and five small figures appeared from behind the leaves.
“What you scaring my kids for?” His beady eyes narrowed, Hank glared down at the three dogs.
“It is you!” Gizmo cried. “I’ve decided I don’t like you much, Hank. And I usually like most animals.”
The possum’s whiskers twitched. “You think I care?”
Gizmo growled.
Max dropped down to all fours and paced back and forth beneath the branch.
“So why’d you do it, Hank?” he asked.
“Do what?” the possum asked.
Rocky rolled his eyes. “You know what you did. You lied! That old lady wasn’t down that road, and there wasn’t any food at all. Instead, we almost got eaten!”
“Maybe you went down the wrong road,” said Hank. “That’s what you dogs get for thinking you can read human words.”
“I don’t think so,” Max growled. “I think you knew exactly where you were sending us.” He glared up at the fat creature. “I’ll ask again: Why’d you do it?”
“I—” Hank started to say.
“And don’t you lie anymore,” Max barked. “We almost got eaten by giant lizards and a snake today, so I’m not very happy with you swamp animals. You might think you’re safe up in the trees, but I bet I could shake you loose.”
“Wow, Max,” Rocky whispered. “You ain’t really gonna harm them, are you, buddy?”
“Hey!” a high-pitched voice called out.
The smallest possum dropped from the branch, dangling upside down. “You leave my papa alone,” she squeaked. “He don’t want to hurt nobody.”
“Could have fooled us!” Gizmo said.
Sighing, Hank shook his head.
“Naw, she’s right,” he said. “I don’t want to see no one get ate. But those monsters got mean after all the humans done left. They say, if I don’t send other animals to them, they’ll eat up my kids.” The fat possum looked at the branch above him, where his children huddled together.
“They said that?” Gizmo asked softly.
“He’s awful sorry, ain’t you, Papa?” the small girl possum said.
Hank nodded.
Max couldn’t be mad anymore. The dogs were passing through the swamp, but the possums had to live there. Max knew he’d do anything to keep his friends and family safe. Could he be mad that Hank would do the same?
“We’re sorry, too,” Max said. “You shouldn’t have to be afraid. But we’re on a journey to bring the humans back. Maybe then the monsters will go back where they came from.”
Hank raised his snout. “You are?”
“Yes,” Gizmo said. “We know where a human is, and she can fix everything. These monsters only started taking over the swamp once the people left, right? If they come back, the monsters are bound to run and hide and leave you alone!”
“You might well be right,” Hank said. “In that case, I’m glad none of you got ate!”
“Me, too,” Rocky grumbled.
Dropping down next to his daughter, Hank clapped his front hands together. “You northern dogs are on your way to Baton Rouge, from what I remember. Just keep heading this way and you’ll reach there. Stick to the road and don’t go veering off none, and you’ll be safe.”
“Thanks,” Max said as he turned back to the road. “At least we know we took the right path back at the bridge.”
“Just so you know, you ain’t the only newcomers in the swamp today,” Hank called. “There’s been talk of wolves, and they ain’t that far.”
“Thanks for the warning!” said Gizmo. “I hope things get better for you and your family.”
Hank hugged his small daughter close. “Me, too,” he said.
The other four young possums dropped down next to their father. As the family watched, Max took the lead once more, and he and his friends continued down the long road.
Night was coming. Wolves and monsters, snakes and the Mudlurker… They needed shelter. And soon.
The three dogs walked on, mostly in silence, for the next several hours. The gray sky began to darken much sooner than Max had hoped. Gizmo assured them she could still smell Georgie’s trail, but they hadn’t seen any of the old lady’s beacons since way back at the mall.
As the sun set, the trees cast long, twisting shadows that writhed like ghostly beasts. Deep in the woods, the swamp gurgled and splashed, and unseen animals called out. Max could almost imagine that the shadows and the sounds were the boa constrictor or the giant lizard monsters, their razor-filled jaws wide open.
Deep in the overgrown foliage, pinpoints of light darted back and forth—fireflies, Max realized. Occasionally he would hear the croak of a bullfrog, then a snap, and one of the lights would blink out. It seemed almost every swamp animal cared only about finding some smaller creature to sneak up on and devour.
As Max helped Rocky and Gizmo over the slick, decaying bark of a fallen tree, a click sounded from overhead. Tall streetlamps that were mostly hidden by the overgrowth began to blink on one by one all along the sides of the broken road. They were far apart, and the lights were a dim, flickering orange, but it was better than the utter darkness that otherwise would have surrounded them once the sun had fully set.
Even if those lights did bring new, frightening shadows that set Max’s fur on edge.
After his friends were over the log, Max bunched up his hind legs and leaped over, too. But they walked only a few more feet before Max noticed that the road in front of them had disappeared.
“Stop!” he barked.
Rocky and Gizmo both halted midstep.
“What is it?” Rocky asked, trembling. “Is it monsters? Is it the Mudlurker?”
“No,” Max said. “Just stand still. Something is wrong.”
Max took a small step forward, his eyes trained on a circle of blackness. He didn’t want to think what would have happened if the lights hadn’t blinked on, if he hadn’t called for his friends to stop.
The blackness was a giant hole in the ground that had formed a deep, muddy pit. On either side, the road ended ab
ruptly, its edges jagged. Broken slabs of asphalt littered the bottom of the pit. A streetlamp lay toppled, having tumbled down from above.
The pit was more of an oval than a circle, and a good chunk of the land that had once been to the right of the road had collapsed to the bottom as well. Max scanned that side of the pit, expecting to see upturned trees and dangling roots.
Instead, he saw a white concrete building. Its glass sign was fractured and broken, and wires dangled through the cracked glass. It appeared to be some sort of small convenience store, a rest stop for travelers.
“Whoa,” Rocky whispered, taking in the mess. “What happened here?”
“I think it’s a sinkhole,” Max said. “I saw one on TV once. It’s when the ground beneath a road washes away and everything up above falls in.”
“Well, I’m glad we weren’t around when that happened!” Rocky yipped.
“Look how far across the road is,” Gizmo said, her gaze on the opposite side of the sinkhole. “How are we supposed to get over there?”
She was right. The sinkhole extended so far ahead that Max could just barely make out the crumbling edge where the road picked up again.
Max looked to his left and right. Towering trees surrounded them, darker than ever now that the sun had set. They’d been told many times never to stray too far from the road, what with all the beasts about. And certainly never to do so at night.
A gust of wind rose up, and several drops of rain plopped against Max’s fur. One of the raindrops splashed Rocky, and the Dachshund jumped.
“Maybe we can go around?” Gizmo said. “We’ll have to be careful not to fall into the hole, but maybe we can do it.”
Rocky dropped to his belly. “No way, Gizmo. Who knows what’s waiting for us in those trees?”
“Oh,” Gizmo said, her ears drooping. “You’re right.”
Max paced back and forth. They hadn’t seen any of the old lady’s beacons in a long, long time, and with this hole in the ground, how could she have possibly gone this way? Unless it happened after she’d driven through?
“What do we do, big guy?” Rocky asked.
The Long Road Page 7
