Reluctantly, Max followed Gizmo’s trail, his eyes darting around to make sure that no wolves or mutts were nearby. He sniffed the air, but all he could smell were the piles of garbage in the front driveway.
Deeper in the walled garden, Max could hear someone crying and Gizmo’s soft, soothing voice.
Quietly, Max led Rocky and Georgie through the overgrowth, avoiding the thorns on the rosebushes, until they came to an open area. An empty birdbath sat near a round metal table, with two iron chairs on either side.
Sitting in one chair, wrapped in her cape, was Belle. On the opposite chair sat Gizmo.
“They’re gone,” Belle whimpered. “All my pets are gone. They’ll never come back for me. I will be alone forever.”
“Oh, Belle,” Gizmo said. “That’s not true. You have so many people who love you. Hardly a day has gone by where we haven’t met some animal who talked highly of you—or at least, of how you were before the people left.”
“Then why do you want to leave?” she wailed. Casting her watery gaze on Max, Rocky, and Georgie, she asked, “Why won’t any of you accept my invitation to stay?”
“Probably because it wasn’t an invitation,” Rocky said. “It was an order.”
Belle swiped her flowery cape over her snout to hide her face. “No one stays because they want to,” she whispered. “Not even the dog I loved more than any in the world would stay with me.”
“Boss?” Gizmo asked.
Belle’s head shot up, and her sheet fell free. She trembled. “I said never to—”
“Well, we’re going to say his name anyway, lady,” Rocky interrupted, leaping up on the chair next to Gizmo. “Boss sent us to find you.”
Belle narrowed her bushy brow. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true!” Gizmo said. “Right, Max?”
Max blinked. He met Belle’s eyes and nodded.
Sighing, Belle waved a paw and said, “But if what Boss had to say was so important, why didn’t he just come tell me himself?”
For a moment, no one spoke.
“Well?” Belle asked.
“Boss… passed away,” Gizmo said softly.
Belle’s entire body went stiff and her eyes opened wide. She opened her jaw as if to say something, but no words came out.
“He was a hero,” Rocky said. “He fought to save a whole boat full of dogs. Without him, they would have been killed. He was so brave.”
“He was always so brave,” Belle whispered.
With a whimper, Gizmo leaped down from her place next to Rocky and then up onto the chair next to Belle. Gizmo continued, “He wanted you to know that he never meant to leave you behind. He didn’t know what his pack leaders were doing when they took him, and he dreamed every day after that about coming home to find you. He longed to run through the tall grass with you again and play in the old pond, and he also wanted you to know he loved you very, very much.”
The Collie’s eyes began to water, and she shut them tight.
“It’s like Max was saying to us,” Rocky whispered. “We all deserve to know that we’re loved. The people are coming back soon. Boss may be gone, but your pack leaders will come home for you.”
“You promise?” Belle said softly, her eyes still closed.
“Of course,” Gizmo said.
“Definitely,” Rocky said.
Blinking her eyes open, Belle met Max’s gaze.
“What about you?” she asked.
Max was thinking so many things that he couldn’t decide what to say. As he tried to form the right words, gravel crunched in the garden behind him and Georgie.
And Dolph’s smell met Max’s nose.
Max spun on his heels. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he would fight if he must. No matter how confused and upset he was, he would never let a pack of wolves hurt any of his friends.
But Dolph was alone.
The large, scarred wolf limped forward, his pale eyes wary.
“Where is your pack?” Max asked with a growl.
Dolph snarled. “They’re still chasing off those crazed mutts. You’re welcome.”
“You’re welcome?” Rocky repeated, his eyes wide. “For what? Stalking us all the way to Baton Rouge?”
“No,” the wolf said. “You’re welcome for saving you from this dog’s pack.”
Max shook his head, confused. “Aren’t you here to settle our feud? Isn’t that what you said when we last saw you?”
Sighing, Dolph paced back and forth over the weeds and gravel.
“Trust me, Max, the last thing I expected was to be saving your hide. But you helped my pack. I felt I still owed you a favor.” He met Max’s eyes. “Besides, if anyone is going to take you down, it will be me, not some gutter dog.”
“So you helped us,” Max said slowly, “because I helped you.”
Dolph snarled once more. “Yes. It’s not hard to understand.” Turning his back on the dogs, the large wolf limped toward the exit. “But don’t expect any more favors, Max. We’re even now.”
And with those parting words, the wolf leader was gone.
“What a pleasant guy,” Rocky said. “I really wish he’d come around more often.”
“Really?” Georgie asked.
Rocky chuckled. “No, not really, big guy. I was just being sarcastic.”
From her chair, Belle sniffled, her eyes watery with tears. Gizmo licked the bigger dog reassuringly.
“So that’s it, then,” the lonely Collie whispered. “Boss is gone forever, and the wolves chased away all my new friends. I have nothing left for me at this mansion.”
Only an hour before Belle had seemed crazed. Bad. But in the end she was still the same nice Collie whom Boss had loved.
Max’s sworn enemy had helped him, all because he had shown him some bit of mercy and kindness. Belle had regained her senses, all because Gizmo and Rocky took the time to treat her with respect and kindness.
Max couldn’t deny there was a lot of danger in the world. Not all animals or people were kind. But looking at Belle now, a flame relit within him. He had to believe that most animals could be good if given the chance.
Wagging his tail, Max trotted across the gravel to Belle and licked her snout.
“This isn’t it for you, Belle,” he said. “The people are coming back. We will be with our families again.”
“But what am I supposed to do until then?” Belle asked.
Ducking his head, Georgie said, “Maybe you could stay with me and my friends.”
Max, Belle, Rocky, and Gizmo all looked at the big dog.
“You’d do that for me?” Belle asked. “Even after my pets chased you?”
Georgie offered her a droopy, slobbery smile and a wag of his tail. “Sure! I think anyone would go mad in this mansion. We can find a nice place where we can keep each other company.”
Belle offered a wag of her tail back. “I think I’d enjoy that. It seems like it would be a nice thing.”
“A very nice thing,” Gizmo said, nodding in agreement.
Together, Max, Rocky, Gizmo, Belle, and Georgie left the enclosed garden and walked side by side through the overgrown grass until they reached the road that led to the front gate. The stench of the garbage behind them—a smell that spoke of Belle’s sadness and despair—was replaced by the fresh scents of the nearby yards. By the time they reached the gate, the moody clouds above were fading, burned away by the afternoon sun, and the garbage bags were completely forgotten.
As Dolph had promised, the wolves were long gone, and so were the mutts. Waiting right where they’d left them, however, were Fletcher and Whitey.
“Who is this vision of loveliness?” Whitey barked as the dogs approached.
Belle held her snout high and tossed her head back and forth to send her floral cape fluttering in the midday breeze.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said. “I’m Belle.”
“Oh,” Whitey said with a wag of his tail. “It seems the stories of your d
emise were greatly exaggerated.”
“Georgie Porgie!” Fletcher cried.
The small mutt bounded forward, then leaped at Georgie’s side, sniffing and licking him.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “We heard barks and howls, and whenever the wind shifted there was this awful smell. I was so worried!”
Georgie laughed. “I’m all right. No one can hurt the Mudlurker.”
Shaking her head, Fletcher tsked. “Mudlurker. What a thing to call you.” Sizing up Belle, she added, “So what’s the deal with her?”
“I asked her to stay with us until the people come home,” Georgie asked.
“Is that okay?” Belle asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”
Fletcher tilted her head. After a long moment, she finally wagged her tail. “Sure, why not. It would be an honor to be friends with the famed Belle of Baton Rouge!”
As Belle, Fletcher, Georgie, and Whitey sniffed one another and laughed, Max, Rocky, and Gizmo sat in the center of the road, quietly taking it all in. Max couldn’t help but wag his tail at the sight of them. Each of these Baton Rouge dogs had been alone in his or her own way. But now, it seemed, they were going to become a family.
Georgie peeled himself away from his friends and trotted to stand before Max, Rocky, and Gizmo.
“I guess this is good-bye,” the big dog said, his head drooping. “I’m going to miss you guys.”
“Oh, Georgie!” Gizmo cried. She darted forward, leaped back onto her hind legs, and hugged his front legs. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
Rocky waddled forward and mimicked Gizmo’s hug on Georgie’s other front leg. “You seemed like a fraidy-cat when we first met you, big guy,” he said. “But you turned out to be superbrave. Those gators were right to be scared of you.”
Georgie’s tail was a blur. “Aw. Thanks.”
Tongue hanging down in a doggy smile, Max walked up to Georgie and gave him a quick lick on his nose.
“You keep an eye on Belle and the others, you hear?” Max said. “Something tells me they’re going to need it.”
Georgie’s eyes went wide. “You think I could be their leader?”
“Maybe not the leader,” Max said. “When dogs fight to be in charge, it never seems to end well.” He tilted his head. “How about you just be their very good friend, and they can be your very good friends back?”
“You got it, Max,” Georgie said. “Thanks for saving me from that swamp.”
“Thank you for being the fearsome Mudlurker!”
All the dogs laughed at that. Reluctantly, Rocky and Gizmo let Georgie go, and the Saint Bernard wandered back to join his new group of friends.
The sun was arcing down toward the western horizon as Max, Rocky, and Gizmo walked side by side in the center of the road, leaving Belle’s mansion behind and heading away from Baton Rouge.
“So where to now, big guy?” Rocky asked as they passed a sign in front of a farm that showed a cartoon puppy next to the words HAPPY PAWS.
“We keep heading west, I figure,” Max said.
“Definitely,” Rocky said. “But how will we know we’re going the right way?”
Up ahead, only slightly visible in the late afternoon sunlight, Max saw an amber beacon blinking atop an orange-and-white barricade.
“Oh, look!” Gizmo said, catching sight of the beacon, too. “Dr. Lynn must have come this way.”
Rocky nodded. “So we keep following the signs. Easy enough.”
“Until we run into more gators,” Max said.
“Or devious snakes,” Gizmo added.
Rocky scrunched his nose. “Or dogs who don’t know the value of proper hygiene.”
And though all those monsters and serpents and canines had made their lives miserable, the three dogs laughed. It was all they could do.
The road ahead seemed to go on forever, but just like the river they’d followed for so long, Max knew it would end eventually.
Along the way, he planned to keep spreading hope to each animal they met. Just like Belle, everyone deserved to know that Dr. Lynn was going to save them all. The humans were going to return. The pets would be reunited with their families.
No matter what Max faced between then and now, he knew if he kept that dream alive, he’d finally reach the end of this journey.
And when that end came, he’d be embraced again by Charlie and Emma, once and for all.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The Long Road comes to you action-packed and thrilling thanks to the insightful notes from my great editors, Julie Scheina and Pam Garfinkel, who saw both the forest and the trees and knew exactly which branches and trunks to cut down. They and everyone else at Little, Brown Books for Young Readers have been incredibly dedicated to making this series the best it can be, and I am amazed every day by all the work they’ve done to make these books a reality.
Endless thanks must go to the team at the Inkhouse as well. Michael Stearns and Ted Malawer helped conceive a page-turner of a plot, then once again let me run wild to bring it to life. And Ruth Katcher was there every step of the way to help tame my unruly pages and turn them into a sleek manuscript. Having her experienced eye give my words a second look throughout the writing process was a lifesaver.
As always, I am so impressed by how Allen Douglas has brought Max, Rocky, and Gizmo to life in his illustrations. I think this might be my favorite cover art so far!
And finally, thank you to all the kids, parents, teachers, and librarians who have come to see me in person or have written me letters about how much you’ve enjoyed these books. Your enthusiasm and tales of your own dogs have provided more inspiration than I could have imagined!
CHAPTER 1
SNAKE IN THE GRASS
Max awoke to find something wet and leathery pressing against his nose.
He barked in surprise and jerked away.
“Aah!” the creature yelped, rearing back—and Max realized it was his friend Rocky. The Dachshund had been sitting snout-to-snout with Max in the overgrown grass, intently watching him sleep.
“What are you doing?” Max asked.
“Just making sure you’re okay,” Rocky said as he hopped onto Max’s back, as if he hadn’t just startled the both of them. “Gizmo asked me to stay and watch over you.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Max asked.
The little Dachshund leaped off Max’s shoulder and landed in the grass in front of him.
“You were growling and kicking in your sleep, like you were battling dream wolves again, buddy,” he said. “We all know how your dreams can get to you sometimes.”
Max remembered glinting silver, intense heat, and black clouds. He shivered.
“What did you dream about, anyway?” Rocky asked, cocking his head. “Nothing too horrible, right?”
“Nothing horrible,” Max said as he rose on all fours. “I’m fine; don’t worry.”
It was morning, and the sun was still low in the sky. They’d spent the night beside the highway, near a row of hay bales and some scrubby brush. The day before, they’d come through a mostly empty town. In the past, they might have taken a night or two to rest in one of the abandoned houses, rather than sleep outside.
But they couldn’t risk stopping any more than necessary these days. There was a pack of angry wolves on their trail, led by the vicious Dolph, and although the three of them had come a long way, they still had a lot of ground to cover before they could be reunited with their people.
Max had insisted the dogs stop only briefly to scavenge for food and water in the empty town. Then they’d continued down the highway until they were so tired they’d had to rest.
“Where is Gizmo?” Max asked as he started toward the highway.
“She went for a walk,” Rocky said. Max could barely see the Dachshund as they waded through the overgrown grass and weeds. “I think she had a bad dream, too. Me? I dreamed I was in a land of ki
bble, big guy. We’re talking roads paved with kibble, and sausage trees, and… a river full of gravy! You ever had gravy?” The smaller dog’s tongue dangled from his pointed snout, and he drooled. “My pack leader poured some into my food dish once. Oh, man, it was great.”
Gurgling sounded from Rocky’s stomach, and he looked up at Max. “I think I’m just a little hungry,” he said.
In response, Max licked his friend’s black forehead reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll reach a town soon. Then we can find something to eat.”
In another minute, they could see the highway up ahead. It wasn’t a huge road, just a couple of two-lane streets divided by a grassy median. Beyond it was another open field bordered by towering trees, but no houses or barns.
Gizmo looked up from the puddle she was drinking from as Max and Rocky approached. She offered them a brief, halfhearted wag of her tail.
“Good morning, boys,” the Yorkshire Terrier said. “I found this puddle. It’s a little muddy, but it’s not too bad.”
Max nodded at her and took a few laps of water. She was right—it was gritty with dirt, but Max’s mouth and throat were parched, and he needed to drink.
While Rocky drank his fill, Max studied Gizmo. “You took a walk by yourself?” he asked her. “You’ve got to be careful. The wolves are still following us.”
Gizmo’s ears drooped, and she looked away. “I know,” she said. “I had a dream about Belle—a nightmare, really. It made me sad, so I wanted to chase away the thoughts.”
Belle was a Collie whom Max and his friends had been asked to seek out by an old Australian Shepherd named Boss. Boss had heroically given his life to save many other dogs, and it was his last wish to let Belle know he hadn’t abandoned her. They’d found Belle, half-mad from loneliness, in a filthy, decaying mansion in a city called Baton Rouge. It took everything they had to persuade her to leave her home and make a new life with other dogs.
“She has friends now,” Max said. “Georgie and Fletcher and Whitey. She’s not alone. And besides, Dr. Lynn said the people will come home soon, remember?”
The Long Road Page 22
