But the monster continued on. “Poor doggy. You think you’ve escaped us. But you’ll meet the Mudlurker soon enough. And then you’ll know I was right all along, and you should have come with me.” It laughed, and the other monsters joined in.
Just above Max was a patch of concrete connected to the front of the convenience store. It jutted straight out, forming a makeshift cliff over Max’s head. Rocky and Gizmo sat above Max at its broken edge, their tails wagging.
“No,” Max said as he leaped up to the concrete edge.
“I,” he added as his front legs gripped the ground.
“WON’T!” he bellowed as he propelled himself over the ledge.
Max landed on his side between Rocky and Gizmo, only a few feet from the entrance to the convenience store.
Climbing onto four unsteady legs, Max focused on the glass door. It said PUSH in bright red letters on its front. Gravity from the slight angle of the building kept it tightly shut.
“I tried to get the door open, big guy,” Rocky said. “It’s too heavy for me.”
“You tried,” Max said. “That’s all that matters. Now let me give it a go.”
Steeling himself, Max shoved his right side against the door. Though the rough ground was much sturdier than the mud in the sinkhole, Max didn’t know if he could keep himself from slipping.
His body ached from the long day of running, from his tumble down into the pit, and from the climb up to the concrete slab.
But he had to get his friends inside and away from the monsters.
With a growl, Max shoved as hard as he could. He heard the tinkle of a small bell, and the glass door opened just wide enough for Rocky and Gizmo to slip through, darting out of the rain and into the dry store.
Above Max, the assembled monsters gasped.
“They’re really going in there.”
“The doggies are going to awaken the Mudlurker.”
“Should we run?”
But to Max the monsters’ words were just a jumble of noise. With another cry, he shoved the door open a few more inches and darted forward, his paws landing on smooth tile.
The door slammed shut, nearly closing on Max’s tail, the glass rattling from the force.
It was dark in the slanted store, but dry and warm, the rain now a gentle rapping against the roof. Max took a few quivering steps forward and dropped to his belly.
As he lay there, his chest heaving, he heard Rocky and Gizmo just behind him. There came a metallic crash, and Max peered over his shoulder to see that the two had sent a metal rack falling onto its side to barricade the doorway.
“Good job,” he said softly.
“Oh, Max, you look so exhausted,” Gizmo said. She began to lick his forehead, her tongue lapping at a cut he hadn’t even known was there.
“I’m so glad you’re still with us, buddy,” Rocky said as he curled against Max’s belly. “We managed to stay on the slope until we made it to the door, but we saw you fall and thought you were done for.”
“Never,” Max said. “No matter how hard you try, I’ll never leave you.”
The three dogs just lay together, relieved, happy, and tired beyond belief.
“Why didn’t the monsters chase us?” Gizmo said. “Were they afraid of falling in the pit?”
“Maybe,” Rocky said. “Or maybe they were scared of something.”
A noise echoed through the store.
Max jerked his head up, watching the darkness. It was hard to see—there was barely any light in the place—and many racks and shelves had fallen over. Cans and magazines and bags of chips lay scattered all over the floor near a smashed cash register.
As the dogs watched, silent, a small can of tuna fish rolled and bounced from the back of the store all the way to the front windows. It landed with a small thunk.
The force of the slammed door had set loose the can, Max reasoned. A can that had dangled there for days or weeks, just waiting for the right amount of vibration to fall.
But even as Max told himself this, he couldn’t help but remember the monsters’ fearful chants.
Mudlurker.
Max, Rocky, and Gizmo, wet and exhausted and trapped in the convenience store, were silent, watching and waiting.
And in the darkness at the back of the store, two large eyes, shot through with blood, blinked open, watching them back.
CHAPTER 10
THE MUDLURKER
Max wanted to run or shout or fight. He wanted to find someplace to hide his friends and keep them safe. More than anything, he wanted to collapse into sleep, into dreams where there weren’t monstrous beasts hiding around every corner.
But he didn’t dare succumb to sleep. Not with those unknown eyes peering at him. And no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t roll over or get to his feet—his body was so exhausted and hurt that it wouldn’t obey him. Not that there was anywhere to run anyway. Out there was only the pit and the forest and the many creatures who wanted to devour him and his friends.
So Max lay still, barely breathing, unable to look away from the bloodshot gaze before them.
A flash of white burst through the windows, revealing a bulbous, oozing body of brown muck. As the dogs watched, the swampy thing rose up and up, and a pair of jaws opened.
“That is what I am now,” the creature said. Its voice was deep and rumbled like thunder. “I am the Mudlurker.”
The creature closed its eyes and reared back its head, then let loose the loudest, longest howl Max had ever heard.
The Mudlurker’s howl filled the space with a deep, reverberating din that spoke of despair and the end of days. Max, Rocky, and Gizmo all covered their ears with their paws, but nothing could shut out that sound. It penetrated the walls of the store. It echoed through the trees and the night sky, overwhelming even the din of the heavy rain. Max craned his neck to look out the windows and saw all the assembled monsters turn and scrabble away as fast as they could, slithering into the darkness to hide from the Mudlurker.
Finally, after several minutes, the Mudlurker lowered its snout and stopped howling. Gasping for air, the bulbous thing collapsed toward the floor as the last remnants of its bellowing sorrow faded away.
Once more the dogs sat silent, watching the creature in the back of the convenience store and waiting for it to make a move. Instead, the thing closed its eyes and let out strange, barely audible sounds, huffing and sniffing and whimpering.
And Max finally realized: It was crying.
“Uh, is that thing gonna attack us?” Rocky whispered nervously. “Should we run?”
“It doesn’t look like it,” Max whispered back. “I think it might be crying.”
“Oh!” Gizmo said. “Poor thing. It must be so lonely with everyone too afraid to visit.”
With her tail gently wagging, Gizmo took a few steps toward the sobbing, misshapen beast. As she did, the thing opened its yellow-tinged eyes once more.
“Hello,” Gizmo said quietly. “I’m Gizmo. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“You’re a dog,” the creature said. “What are you doing in here?”
“My friends and I were trying to escape those swamp monsters, and this seemed the safest place,” she said.
“I had to escape those things, too,” the Mudlurker said. “They almost got me before I ran in here a few weeks back.”
Rocky narrowed his eyes. “Wait, I’m confused. Why were you running away from the monsters? They sure seem afraid of you.”
“Why wouldn’t they chase after me?” asked the Mudlurker. “I’m just a dog like you. Maybe a bit bigger, sure, but—”
“You’re a dog?” Rocky yipped.
The Mudlurker whimpered. “Yes. You can’t tell?”
“No offense meant,” Max said, “but from here, you look like a big pile of mud with eyes.”
The Mudlurker blinked. “Oh.”
Groaning, the creature rose once more. As he did, he shook himself all over, sending clumps of earth flying every which way. Though he was
still covered in muck, it was clear that he was indeed a dog, one that seemed almost as tall as a human, with a wide, stocky body; jowly cheeks; and big, floppy ears. He was ankle deep in a hill of dried mud that, Max saw, must have burst through the back wall of the store when the building collapsed.
And though he still looked more dirt-creature than dog, Max remembered his dream—this was the dog he was supposed to find.
Gizmo darted forward, sniffing wildly at the giant dog’s lower limbs, her tail a blur.
“This isn’t just any dog!” she barked. “It’s Georgie!”
The dog—a Saint Bernard, Max could now tell—stepped off his pile of mud. “You know who I am?” he asked.
“We sure do,” Gizmo said. “We’ve been following you, because you’ve been following the old lady in the hat! We’re looking for her, too.”
“Oh,” Georgie said, his head drooping.
“Come meet my friends!” Gizmo yipped.
She darted back through the center of the store to where Max and Rocky lay. Georgie slowly followed her.
“I’d get up to greet you,” Max said, “but I think my body won’t let me.”
“We’ve had a tough day,” Gizmo told the Saint Bernard.
“It’s fine,” Georgie said as he sat in front of the three friends. “You still have better manners than most animals I’ve run across.”
Rocky climbed out from between Max’s legs. “So I gotta know, Georgie, how’d you get here, and how’d you make all the monsters afraid of you?”
“It wasn’t really on purpose,” Georgie said. “I got tired of how all the animals on the beach acted like nothing was wrong, so I set out on my own. My people ran the inn there before all the humans left. I figured the best way to find them was to follow the nice lady who had helped feed all of us. I followed her scent and signs until I ended up here in the swamp.”
“You saw beacons here in the swamp?” Max asked. “We haven’t seen any since the mall.”
Georgie blinked his big, sad eyes at Max as a long line of slimy drool fell from his mouth.
“You didn’t?” he asked. “I bet those gators knocked them over to hide them. That seems like something they’d do.”
“Gators?” Gizmo asked.
“Gators,” Georgie said. “Or alligators, if you want to talk fancy. That’s what those monsters are called. And boy, they did hound me. Kept telling me I’d never escape and never find my people. And they were right.”
“But that doesn’t explain how you became the Mudlurker,” Rocky said.
“Oh,” Georgie said. “Well, one day the gators were chasing me right past this store and the car wash. I ran in here, and I howled and howled… and that’s when it happened.”
Rising back on all fours, the giant dog walked to the windows and looked down at the sinkhole.
“Just as I started to howl, the parking lot and the road rumbled and shook. All the gators went stock-still, and then the ground itself opened up and swallowed them whole.”
Turning back to the three dogs, Georgie shook his head. “I thought I was a goner, too. The parking lot collapsed in a waterfall of mud, and the whole store started sliding down into the hole. But I got lucky. The store slid down a good ways, but it didn’t tip over. The worst thing that happened was the wall gave way in the storeroom, which is where all that mud in the back came from.”
Georgie sat down once more. “I’ve been here ever since. All the swamp animals thought I made the sinkhole, which is why they’re afraid of me and why they started calling me the Mudlurker. So now they leave me alone. I got enough grub in here to last me awhile. And it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”
“That can’t be true,” Max said. “You already said you were following the old woman in the big hat, just like us. We think she knows how to bring all the people back.”
Georgie tilted his head as a glob of drool seeped between his lips and plopped to the floor.
“You think,” the big dog asked, “or you know?”
“Well, we’re pretty sure,” Gizmo said. “Right, Max?”
“Yeah,” Max said. “The old woman was the pack leader of a friend of mine. My friend told me that I should find her and she could help. And there were other animals, too.”
“A great, big elephant!” Gizmo chimed in.
“And a super-rude pig,” Rocky said.
Max nodded. “Those other animals knew the old woman, too. They said she was trying to fix the problem that made all the humans leave.”
“Trying,” Georgie repeated in a low grumble. “The gators were right when they said that this is all just a chase for wild geese.” The Saint Bernard set his head on his muddy front paws. “I even thought about going back to Baton Rouge, where I grew up, to see if my old friends were there.”
Gizmo trotted to Georgie’s head and licked his nose. “Well, you’re in luck, Georgie, ’cause we’re also going to Baton Rouge. We’re supposed to find a Collie named Belle.”
Georgie’s tail thumped against the floor. “Good ol’ Belle,” he mumbled. “She’s a right treasure.”
“You know her?” Rocky asked. “Yeesh, Belle is the most popular dog I’ve ever heard of.”
“All the dogs in Baton Rouge know her,” Georgie said. “A lot of us came from the farms or breeders near her home, and she always made the rounds to say hello. But who knows if she’s still there.” The giant dog sighed and closed his big, sad eyes.
Max couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a dog in such low spirits. The disappearance of the humans and the taunts from the swamp animals—or gators, as Georgie called them—had done a number on the poor guy.
Not that Max could blame him. He wondered if he’d have continued his search without Rocky and Gizmo. Would Max just have given up and let the monstrous lizards have him? Would he have kept hoping to see his family if he’d been all alone?
Though his body still pounded with a dull ache, Max forced himself up on all fours. Legs wobbling, he padded to Georgie and lay down against the big dog’s side. The Saint Bernard’s fur was crusted with dried mud, but Max didn’t move.
Gizmo lay down on Georgie’s opposite side, joined a moment later by Rocky. Sensing their comforting warmth, Georgie opened his eyes.
“It sounds like you’ve had a tough time,” Max said quietly. “And I understand why you might want to give up. What you really need, though, are some friends. You should come with us.”
“Yes!” Gizmo said. “We’d love to have you along.”
“Definitely,” Rocky said. “No one will mess with us if we’ve got the Mudlurker on our side.”
“The swamp is so big and dangerous,” Georgie whimpered. “And there’s no guarantee we’ll find anyone.”
“Maybe not,” Max said. “But I can promise you that trying is better than doing nothing. At the very least we’ll get you to Baton Rouge. You’re bound to find some old friends, and then you won’t have to be alone while you wait for your humans to come back.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Georgie said. “It can get boring sitting in that mud pile all day.”
“It’s settled, then,” Max said. “Tonight we’ll sleep and regain our strength. Tomorrow, we’ll set out.”
On the cold, slanted tile floor, the four dogs settled themselves and closed their eyes, listening to the falling rain on the rooftop.
“You know, Georgie, I think you might need a bath,” Max heard Gizmo say before he drifted off to sleep. “We’re not in the best shape ourselves, but you’re almost more mud than dog!”
“Hey,” Rocky yipped sleepily. “Didn’t you say something about a car wash?”
Too exhausted to wonder what he meant, Max closed his eyes and slept.
Max was on a road in the woods once more.
Nearby, the metal-skinned monsters cackled as they tore through the underbrush.
Serpents slipped through the branches, venom dripping from their fangs.
Giant wolves with glowing red eyes snarled a
s they paced, waiting to attack.
But Max didn’t feel afraid. A giant dog plopped beside him. Watery drool fell from his lips.
Just ahead was a break in the darkness. The kind old woman, Madame’s pack leader, sat in a lawn chair. She wore a wide-brim hat and sipping from a glass of lemonade that blinked with yellow light, beckoning like a beacon. She smiled and waved at Max and the other dog.
“Are we almost there?” Max asked.
The dog lifted his head back and howled as the lady took another sip of lemonade, still smiling.
Max awoke.
In the bright morning light, Max saw that every single one of the dogs was a mess. Max’s, Rocky’s, and Gizmo’s bellies and legs were crusted with mud, and their fur was matted and tangled. They smelled awful.
But Georgie was dirtier than any dog Max had ever seen. Thick mud was slathered all over his body, as if he were a cake covered with chocolate frosting.
The dogs were definitely in need of a bath.
Once everyone was awake, Max announced that it was time to leave. Georgie carefully led Max, Rocky, and Gizmo up the sloped floor of the convenience store to his stock of kibble, near the dried mud pile that had been his bed. As they ate their fill, Max noticed the tiny flies that swarmed above the mud and the old human food. The insects came in through a vent on the ceiling. Max guessed it led outside and had amplified Georgie’s howls. No wonder the Mudlurker’s howls were so terrifying to the other swamp animals.
When their bellies were full, Georgie took the lead once more. They had to walk on top of the mounded mud to get into the storeroom. Most of the back wall had burst inward from the force of the mudslide, and mud and rocks had buried all the store’s overstock.
Georgie had dug a small ditch beneath the broken wall and the mud. Without a word, Max dropped to his belly and scurried underneath and outside.
As he waited for his friends to follow, he studied the slope. His body still ached, reminding him of all they’d gone through the day before. He sniffed at the air and examined the trees, but he didn’t find any sign of the monsters. A minute later, Rocky emerged, then Gizmo.
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