Max shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe we took the wrong path after all. Maybe we should go back and try the other way.”
“But it’s so dark!” Rocky yipped.
“And I can still smell Georgie,” Gizmo added.
Max sighed. “For all we know Georgie went the wrong way, too.”
Another burst of wind whooshed through the trees, so strong that it sent them stumbling sideways. High above, the clouds twisted and boiled into a deep, inky black, and then the rain came in slicing, warm sheets that soaked the dogs in seconds.
Rocky and Gizmo darted underneath Max’s belly, hugging the ground and sheltering themselves as best they could. Max closed his eyes until they were merely slits—the sudden downpour was so dense he could barely see.
“How about we find us some shelter?” Rocky shouted over the rain.
“All right,” Max shouted back. “We’ll have to take our chances in the trees.”
“What about that building that’s partway in the pit?” Gizmo said.
“I don’t know if that’s safe,” Max called. “Especially with all this rain turning the dirt to mud!”
“Can’t we look anyway?” Gizmo asked. “It’s an actual shelter, after all. It’d be much safer in there than anywhere we can find in the swamp.”
Max had to admit that a building would give better protection than the trees. So, despite his better judgment, he nodded.
The way down to the half-collapsed building was a gradual slope, with plenty of rocks and exposed roots to grab on to, even though the dirt had turned to slick, goopy muck.
“It doesn’t look so bad,” Rocky said.
“Stay here,” Max called over the rain. “I’ll see how stable it is, then you two can follow me.”
The two small dogs nodded. Gizmo’s usually fluffy fur was matted and drooping, and streams of water fell from the ends of Rocky’s floppy ears.
Taking a breath, Max stepped one paw off the road and onto the hill, then another. Mud squelched up between his toes.
He took another careful step forward, then another.
And then, his front paw met a wet rock, which tumbled down the incline. Max lurched and almost fell, but he caught himself, then quickly scrabbled backward up to the hard surface of the road.
Max was about to tell his friends that they’d need to find some other path when a voice echoed over the pounding rain.
“Yoo-hoo!”
The voice was slick and dangerous, sending a shiver of fear all along Max’s spine.
“Oh, no,” Gizmo gasped.
“Yoo-hoo!” the voice called again, closer. “Doggies! We’re so happy to see you.”
Slowly, Max turned away from the sinkhole and back toward the road. At the same time, a searing flash of white lit up the sky. It was followed seconds later by an explosion of thunder that made Rocky yelp in terror.
And in that brief moment of light, Max saw polished, ridged skin and glittering black eyes and the edges of daggerlike teeth.
The monsters had found them.
CHAPTER 9
A DESPERATE ESCAPE
The fear and tension that had been building up inside Max all day exploded into pure instinct. Run away! his brain screamed. Protect your friends!
But as the lightning and thunder faded, all Max could see was the blackness and small points of light, remnants of the bright flash that had blinded him. The only sound was a tinny whine inside his ear, an echo of the thunder. As he backed away from the approaching monsters, his hind foot met the edge of the broken road. Another step would send him tumbling deep into the muddy sinkhole.
Max blinked again and again, willing his eyes to regain their night vision. Rocky and Gizmo huddled beside him, quivering and silent.
The whine in Max’s ears faded, and he heard the thud of loud, heavy footsteps. Water dripped into Max’s eyes, but his night vision came back to him. They were trapped between the sinkhole and the approaching monsters. The three dogs had nowhere to hide.
“Stay calm,” he whispered to the others.
“I’m trying,” Gizmo whispered back, as three dark shapes moved toward the dogs. Two of them slithered in front of the fallen tree as their apparent leader stepped into the pale glow beneath the nearby streetlight.
The creature was the length of a car, its body flat and wide and low, with four strong, short legs that ended in claws. Its snout was also long and flat, open in a devious grin filled with overhanging sharp teeth.
Its skin was a murky mixture of brown and green and black that shimmered in the stormy night. Water streamed between the ridges that ran down the creature’s body, all the way to the tip of its fat tail.
It was a giant lizard, like some mutant version of the tiny creatures that darted through Max’s barn back home. One time Max had chased one of the small lizards and bit its tail, only to be surprised when the tail popped off, letting the animal run free and grow a new tail in safety.
Somehow Max guessed the same thing wouldn’t happen with that creature’s enormous cousin.
As the leader took another step forward, Max tried to reassure himself that this was just an animal. A swamp beast who hadn’t received the final Praxis procedure. A creature who, no matter how big and scary, could be outsmarted by Max, Rocky, and Gizmo. At least, Max hoped so.
“Ah, nice doggies.”
The monster’s voice was low and muddy, but with a strange warmth underneath. It reminded Max of Madame Curie, as if the swamp monster somehow shared the older dog’s wisdom.
The creature slowly closed and opened its dark eyes. “What are you doing out here in the rain?” it asked. “We were hoping you were coming to our party. Our friend Hank was supposed to tell you all about it.”
“He did!” Gizmo yipped, taking a defiant step forward. “He tricked us into going into the swamp to get eaten, just like you wanted. But we got away from the other monsters, and we’re going to get away again.”
The lead monster’s eyes narrowed into slits. Lashing its tail, it glanced back at its followers.
“Did you try to eat the nice doggies?” it asked.
“Of course not,” one of the other monsters said.
“We just wanted to carry them to the party,” the other added. “Then they ran away.”
Two creatures chuckled in the darkness, barely audible over the torrential rain. Max thought he heard more laughter in the trees, but he couldn’t tell if it was just echoes or more of the beasts, lying in wait.
The lead monster turned back to Max and his friends. “You see, doggies?” It raised its clawed front foot, then stepped forward. “We’re not so bad. You should give us a chance. It’s the least you can do, considering you have nowhere to run.”
Max clamped his jaw shut. He wouldn’t give the beasts the satisfaction of seeing his fear—but they really were backed into a corner.
The monster parted its jaws once more in a mockery of a smile. “It will be all right, doggies,” the creature said, its voice soothing and friendly. “I know it has been a long, frightening day.”
The beast’s tones were strangely comforting. For a moment, Max felt as though he were warm and dry inside his farm home, while his pack leaders told him what a good boy he was.
Max’s heartbeat began to slow. Though he could still feel the pounding of rain against his fur, it no longer much concerned him.
“This swamp is such a dangerous place,” the monster said as it took another step closer. “It is an endless place, one that dogs like you could never escape. You feel it, don’t you?”
Rocky took a few steps forward as he whispered in response. “Yeah, I feel it. You’re right.”
“Rocky!” Gizmo shouted. “Don’t listen to them! They’re trying to trick you! Focus on anything but their words!”
She darted beneath Max’s belly to nip at Rocky’s hindquarters. The Dachshund shook his head and went still.
Stomping in front of Rocky, Gizmo glared once more at the lead monster. “We know all y
ou want to do is eat us. It’s not going to happen, so you should just go away, already!”
Laughter rose once more from the darkness, and this time the leader joined in. Its long tail whipped up and down, sending up a splash of water.
“Where do you think you can go, little doggy?” one of the unseen creatures called.
“The bayou is endless,” another shouted. “If we don’t catch you, one of our cousins will. We have spies everywhere.”
“Like the possums.”
“And that snake on the bridge that you made very, very angry.”
More vicious cackling.
This time, Max was certain there were more monsters lying in wait and other swamp animals watching them.
But before he could react, the lead monster spoke, and its lulling, ancient tones hypnotized Max once more.
“Oh, my friends tease you, doggies,” it said as it slithered forward, moving even closer to the dogs. “But they speak a certain truth, don’t they? If there is no chance of escape, why try? Come. Be the most special guests at our party.”
“No!” Gizmo barked. Rearing on her hind legs, she swatted Max’s face with a paw. “Right, Max? We won’t give up!”
Max’s own brain screamed, Never give up. But he could not look away from the creature’s shimmering black eyes.
“Other dogs like you have searched for their people.” The beast took another step closer. “Others have realized there is no hope.” Another thudding step. “The humans don’t want you.” A rise and fall of dark, scaly flesh. “Even if you found your humans, they no longer love you. You have nothing.”
And with those words, the monster’s mesmerizing spell was lifted.
The creature had spoken Max’s deepest fear: that Charlie and Emma never wanted to see him again.
But Max knew that his pack leaders never would have left him if they’d had a choice. He’d promised to find them and his friends’ families, too.
And Max always kept his promises.
There was love out there, Max reminded himself. Max saw that love when animals rose up to protect one another and fight back against those beasts who chose darker paths. He saw it when Madame Curie and Raoul and Boss all sacrificed themselves to help keep others alive, to preserve the hope that one day the world would return to normal. He saw it every single day when his two small friends acted with bravery and compassion ten times their physical size.
And he’d felt it in every moment he had ever spent with his pack leaders. Charlie and Emma still loved him. They just had to.
The rain fell and the wind whipped past Max and his friends, and the night was filled with the sounds of deadly creatures, but Max no longer cared. Growling and baring his teeth, he took a defiant step forward.
“You’re wrong,” he said. “You will always be wrong. Even if I do fail, I will never stop hoping I can find my family, and I will never stop loving my friends until the moment I draw my last breath.”
Gizmo jumped into the air and shouted, “That’s right!”
“Yeah,” Rocky said. “You tell ’em, big guy!”
The lead monster sighed a hissing, wheezing sound of exasperation as it glared at the three dogs.
“Fine,” the monster grumbled. “I’d hoped you’d not make this difficult. But since you have…”
The beast’s massive mouth snapped open, its top jaw slicing up into the air to reveal rows of sharp, jagged teeth. Its strong legs propelled it forward, slithering over the slick asphalt road.
“Come on!” Max shouted.
He leaped to his left, Rocky and Gizmo behind him. Seconds later, there was a clap of two strong jaws as the monster bit into empty air.
“Get them!” the lead monster shrieked as the dogs raced wildly through the rain. “Save the big one for me!”
Thudding, slapping footsteps came from the road as branches cracked and goopy splashes echoed from among the trees. The dark, deadly beasts were on the move—and so were their companions in the woods.
“Where do we go?” Rocky yelped. “That monster was right about one thing: There’s nowhere to run!”
“Not true,” Max called back. “There’s one place!”
They’d reached the northern edge of the highway, and Max veered left once more—to the edge of the sinkhole. The downward slope into the pit was now an oozing slurry of mud and pebbles.
“In there?” Rocky said with a gulp.
“In there,” Max confirmed, nodding toward the half-collapsed building. He glanced over his shoulder. The shadowy shapes of the three monsters were only a few yards away. And in that moment, another bolt of lightning snaked through the sky, illuminating the beasts as though it were the middle of the day.
The lead monster’s black eyes no longer seemed ancient and wise. They were narrowed in pure hatred.
The electric bolt faded, replaced with a thunderous boom that pierced Max’s ears. “Go!” he shouted, though he could barely even hear himself, let alone know if his friends had heard him.
He had to trust that even if they hadn’t heard his shout, his friends knew to follow him. Running forward, he felt his paws sink deep into the muck. With squelching pops, they came free, and he ran forward blindly.
“They’re going to the Mudlurker!” one of the monsters cried.
Another one repeated, “The Mudlurker? They are mad!”
“The Mudlurker!” still another voice screamed, muffled by trees and rain.
Max could hear other creatures screeching the name, and to his surprise, they seemed scared.
But he didn’t get a chance to think about it for long. He stumbled on a sturdy root, knocking his front legs out from underneath him. His hind legs scrabbled to keep him upright, but the slick mud and the heaviness of his body and the pounding rain sent Max sprawling, sliding down into the depths of the pit.
“Max!” Gizmo called from above.
Max couldn’t respond. A river of mud and water enveloped him as the incline became a steep, unclimbable thing, and he tumbled over and over into the bottom of the sinkhole. Rocks beat against his ribs as he fell, and mud gushed into his mouth, his nostrils, his eyes, and his ears. Then the thunder took away his hearing once more.
The world was black and silent as Max tumbled through the muck. Then, with a gulping splash, he fell into a deep puddle of water.
Dazed, it took Max a moment to realize he was no longer falling. He’d plummeted all the way to the bottom of the pit, into a murky pond.
Max flailed and twisted. His hind legs found purchase on the muddy ground and, shoving off, he swam the few feet up to the pond’s surface.
His head burst free from the water only to be met with more water, as the falling rain sent up thousands of small splashes. Max spat out mud. The rain washed away the muck from his head and eyes, and, finally, he could see again.
As Max paddled, he tried to get his bearings. Right next to him was the hood of a car, its windows barely visible above the waterline. It was empty, swallowed up by the earth.
Beyond the car was a hill of debris. There had once been a parking lot there, he guessed, because slabs of concrete jutted out of the muddy incline.
The mud-and-concrete hill led to the doors of the convenience store, which lay at a slight angle above him.
Max squinted and could just barely make out the muddy forms of two small animals in front of the building’s darkened, glass entrance. Max had no idea how his friends managed to make it unscathed. All that mattered was that the monsters were nowhere near them.
For now.
“Max!” Gizmo barked as she caught sight of him. “Max, are you okay?”
“Yes!” Max barked back. “Stay there! I’m coming!”
Max half swam and half walked toward the hill that had once been a parking lot. Above and behind him, he heard snorts and angry hisses.
The monsters.
He glanced up at the craggy, broken edge of the road, where dark shapes stood lashing their tails, misty shadows in the torrential rain.<
br />
As Max swam, he noticed that more monsters had appeared up above. None made any move toward the building where Rocky and Gizmo waited for Max. And though surely these beasts could swim with ease, none leaped into the sinkhole.
Where, moments before, the creatures had been focused solely on capturing Max and his friends, now all they did was watch and whisper the same word.
Mudlurker.
Max didn’t know what this Mudlurker was. He didn’t want to know. All he cared about now was that he was no longer being chased, and he intended to take advantage of the situation.
At the edge of the water, Max tried to climb onto the muddy hill. Each time, he slipped on the muck and splashed back into the pond.
“Are you all right, buddy?” Rocky called down. “Can you make it?”
Growling, Max swam to one of the broken slabs of concrete. He leaped up, gripping the top edge of the slab with his front paws. The edge was rough and jagged and wet, but he refused to let go. Scrabbling at the mud with his back legs, he managed to shove his whole body out of the water, crouching precariously on the slab.
Max sat there, panting. A murmur of voices rumbled from above.
“Keep going, Max!” Gizmo cried over the rainfall.
“You can do it!” Rocky cheered.
“I’m coming, guys,” he called back. “I’ll be there before you know it.”
Rivers of rainwater tumbled down the slope, cascading into waterfalls. Fat, heavy droplets of rain pelted his fur. The way up was slick, dangerous, and impossibly hard.
But Max drew on all his strength and leaped up to the next bit of broken concrete. Unlike the slope he’d fallen down, this hill was at an angle that he could climb. He rested another moment, then leaped again.
As he made his way slowly but surely up the incline, the leader of the monsters shouted from the road, unable—or unwilling—to climb down the sides of the pit to the building.
“Yoo-hoo!”
Max ignored it, focused on keeping his legs from trembling.
“Oh, doggy! Max, my dear boy!”
From the door of the convenience store, Rocky growled. “Leave him alone!”
The Long Road Page 8
