The Long Road
Page 23
“I know,” Gizmo said. “But what happens if Belle’s people decide not to go back? Or if they find her, what happens to her friends?” She ducked her fuzzy head, looking sad. “Everything has been so different since the humans left. More changes might be hard for Belle.”
Smacking his lips, Rocky stepped away from the puddle. “You two are supergloomy today. Where’s my chipper, energetic Gizmo? And our fearless, tireless leader, Max?” Running onto the highway, he looked back at his friends and barked. “No more moping, guys! Let’s get a move on!”
Max barked a laugh, and Gizmo’s short tail wagged itself into a blur. They galloped after Rocky, following the road west, away from the rising sun.
“You’re right,” Gizmo said as the dogs slowed their pace. “It’s a nice day for a walk, isn’t it? I wonder if we’ll meet someone new today. I hope we do.”
Rocky trotted at Gizmo’s side. “You know these long walks aren’t my favorite, but as long as I’m with you, it’s time well spent.”
“Aww!” Gizmo said. She nudged his side with her head and offered him an appreciative lick.
Rocky was right, Max thought. Though their travels were often exhausting, having his two friends beside him sure did help.
Just ahead, Max noticed a car in the median. It was partially hidden by the tall grass and covered with dirt and leaves. Max was used to seeing these rusting, empty signs of humanity now.
Their journey had started months ago, when Max found himself locked in a kennel. Not long after Max had run out of food and water, Rocky had freed him. That was when Max learned that all the humans had disappeared, leaving their pets behind. The birds had disappeared, too.
Max knew his human family—his pack leaders, Charlie and Emma, and their parents—wouldn’t have left him if they’d had a choice. He had decided he would do anything to find them.
It was then that Max and Rocky had first faced off with Dolph. When Max protected Rocky from one wolf in Dolph’s pack who was trying to steal the Dachshund’s food, the vicious gray wolf vowed to track Max down and make him pay.
The three friends had traveled across half the country, and still Dolph tailed them.
Now, silent and watchful, Max padded down the highway behind Rocky and Gizmo, who were deep in a friendly conversation. He raised his snout high and inhaled. Pollen. Grass and weeds. Damp earth. Moss and fungus and mold, and the tangy scent of hidden squirrels and rabbits.
No wolves. So far.
Still, Max had to stay alert. Dolph always showed up eventually.
“Hey, look!” Gizmo barked.
Max glanced past her down the road—and saw the beacon.
It was an amber light attached to the top of a small traffic barricade that was painted with orange and white stripes. More beacons like this had been placed along the other roads the three friends had traveled, marking a trail they were meant to follow.
“Yes!” Rocky ran around in an excited circle. “We’re heading in the right direction! Maybe we don’t need to be wearing these collars after all.”
“I think your red collar looks very handsome,” Gizmo said.
Rocky wagged his tail. “Thank you! That green collar brings out your eyes.”
Gizmo’s eyes widened. “It does?”
“Sure,” Max said. “You both look good. Well, as good as any of us can look at this point.”
Rocky groaned. “Don’t remind me. Remember that day with Dr. Lynn? When we were all pampered and clean?” He sighed. “That was the best.”
“It was,” Max agreed as he took the lead and began walking once more. “We’ll be with her again soon. We’ll follow her trail while she tracks our path, and we’ll find each other in the middle!”
The tag on his collar jingled softly. Just when Max forgot it was there, the collar would rub his neck or get caught on a branch, and he would remember all over again. He hadn’t worn a collar in the past—if Max had ever gotten lost, he had a little electronic chip planted under his skin that a vet could scan to find out his name and address. But these new collars were special. They contained trackers that would help Dr. Lynn locate Max, Rocky, and Gizmo once it was safe for them to be reunited with the humans.
Dr. Lynn was a scientist and a veterinarian. She had been the pack leader of Max’s old friend Madame Curie, a fellow Labrador. Near the start of their journey, Madame had urged Max to follow a three-ringed symbol to find the doctor, who would reunite Max with his people.
Tracking the symbol had led Max, Rocky, and Gizmo to a laboratory. It turned out that the symbol represented Praxis, a virus that was meant to help people with mental illnesses or brain injuries but had infected animals instead. The virus was harmless to pets and wildlife, but it had mutated to become dangerous to humans, which meant they couldn’t be around their pets. And so all the people had left.
It was a pig named Gertrude who had blasted the dogs with electricity. The electricity had triggered the Praxis virus, which transformed the dogs’ minds and made them so smart they could read and understand human speech. The pig had told them to follow the orange-and-white barricades with the flashing beacons, which led the dogs farther south. Eventually, they’d found Dr. Lynn, a kind older woman who wore a big straw hat over her white hair.
Dr. Lynn had bathed them, fed them, and loved them, and when she discovered they were smart enough to understand her, she explained that she was working to find a cure so that all the people could return home. Once the virus had been triggered, Max, Rocky, and Gizmo were no longer infectious to humans, so before Dr. Lynn left, she gave them their new tracking collars and promised that she would come back for them soon.
Without her, the dogs walked on, exhausted and hungry and aching all over, but determined to be reunited with their families.
Now, as the sun rose higher in the sky and the day grew warmer, Gizmo stopped in the middle of the road, her whole body rigid, her tufted ears perked up.
Rocky came to a stop next to her, his head darting frantically from side to side. “What is it?” he whispered anxiously. “Is it Dolph? Is it food? Is it Dolph eating food?”
“Is everything okay?” Max asked.
“Shh,” Gizmo said. Dropping to her belly, she inched toward the grassy median. “Be very, very quiet.”
Confused, Max sat next to Rocky and watched as Gizmo crept near the weeds in the center of the highway. She stopped as she came to the edge of the asphalt, raised her paw—then let it swing down to slap the dirt.
What looked like a long, slender stick darted out of the grass and onto the road, slithering quickly away from Gizmo.
“What is that?” Rocky asked nervously.
Gizmo jumped up to all fours, her tail wagging ferociously. “A garter snake! I love garter snakes.” She turned to look back at Rocky and Gizmo. “Come on, let’s chase it!”
“What?” Rocky asked again. He looked at Max. “Why would we want to chase a snake?”
But Max was caught up in vivid memories of his days on the farm, when he was just a puppy and life was simple. He’d bounded through the fields at dusk, chasing the harmless snakes through the grass, catching and releasing them, and occasionally delivering them, squirming, to his squealing pack leaders.
“Who wouldn’t want to chase one?” Max barked at Rocky as he leaped up and raced after Gizmo. “Come on!”
The garter snake wound down the center of the road just ahead of Gizmo, its stripes standing out stark and white against the dark asphalt. Gizmo jumped forward to bat at its tail.
“Don’t be afraid,” she yipped after the fleeing snake. “We just want to play!”
The snake did not respond, but it flicked out its tongue and slithered forward.
Max quickly gained on Gizmo. Leaping over her, he landed in front of the fleeing snake, darted his head down, and carefully snatched it up in his jaws. The creature squirmed helplessly, its tail curling around Max’s snout.
Holding his head up high, Max pranced in a big, triumphant circle.
> Gizmo jumped up and down. “Aw! You beat me to it,” she said. “But that was so fun! I bet if you let it go, I’ll get it first.”
Snout scrunched in disgust, Rocky approached the other two dogs. “Max, buddy, did you really put that thing in your mouth? You don’t know where it’s been!”
Max gently set the garter snake on the ground and let it slither away toward the grass.
“I can’t believe you’ve never chased a snake before,” Max said to Rocky. “It’s like trying to catch a living stick!”
“You two are crazy,” Rocky said.
Gizmo butted him playfully with her head, then started after the snake again. “You’re just saying that because you know you’ll never catch it!”
“Oh, yeah?” Rocky said. “Well, watch out, ’cause here I come!”
Max barked happily as Gizmo ran up behind the snake once more, and all three dogs gave chase. Worries about Dolph and their missing people faded for a few joyful moments—until, captured in Rocky’s jaws, the snake flicked out its tongue and hissed, “Friendsss, thisss hasss been entertaining.”
Startled, Rocky dropped the snake, yipped, and leaped back.
Raising its head, the snake nodded at the dogs. “Really, it hasss been a blassst. But haven’t you noticed? The weather hasss turned. I mussst go.”
Max looked up to find that the snake was right.
Clouds had mounded in the sky, fluffy and white in front, then swelling with dark gray. The wind rose in heavy gusts. The air felt thick and charged, tingling Max’s fur and skin.
“Nice to meet you!” Gizmo said to the snake. “Thank you for being a good sport.”
The snake responded with a final flick of its tongue, then wiggled off toward a nearby field.
“Don’t tell me it’s going to rain,” Rocky moaned, glancing up at the darkening sky. “I’m not in the mood to get wet.”
“Maybe we can take cover in the forest?” Gizmo asked, looking to Max for approval.
Max shook his head. “No, we have to keep moving. Dolph is behind us. A little water won’t hurt us. Besides, I think I see a town up ahead.”
Max’s stomach twisted, and he realized just how hungry he was. If the rain was bad enough, surely Dolph would take shelter, too. Maybe they had time to search for someplace dry and scrounge for food.
As if reading Max’s thoughts, Rocky said, “Okay, just as long as we find some grub soon. I’m feeling a little woozy.”
Max opened his snout to answer, but before he could say anything, thunder rumbled across the sky.
At first, Max thought it was from the oncoming storm. But the rumbling didn’t stop. Instead, it grew louder and louder. He saw shadows flooding the streets up ahead, dust billowing in their wake.
Max remembered the massive clouds of darkness from his dream.
As the thunder rose to a roar and the ground trembled beneath his paws, Max barked as loudly as he could, “Run!”
Contents
COVER
TITLE PAGE
WELCOME
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE: BEACONS
CHAPTER 1: RIVER’S END
CHAPTER 2: LIGHTS IN THE SKY
CHAPTER 3: A RUMOR OF MONSTERS
CHAPTER 4: THROUGH THE FOREST
CHAPTER 5: BRAND-NEW DAY
CHAPTER 6: THE TREE DWELLERS
CHAPTER 7: SCALES AND FANGS
CHAPTER 8: SWAMP ROADS
CHAPTER 9: A DESPERATE ESCAPE
CHAPTER 10: THE MUDLURKER
CHAPTER 11: THE FINAL STRETCH
CHAPTER 12: THE CANINE POLICE
CHAPTER 13: THE GOOD DOCTOR
CHAPTER 14: HOW IT ALL BEGAN
CHAPTER 15: A RISING FEAR
CHAPTER 16: A TEPID TRUCE
CHAPTER 17: UNWELCOME
CHAPTER 18: ALMOST THERE
CHAPTER 19: THE JUNKYARD KING
CHAPTER 20: THE SCRAP TUNNEL
CHAPTER 21: THE DECAYING MANSION
CHAPTER 22: SOUTHERN BELLE
CHAPTER 23: A VERY NICE THING
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A SNEAK PEEK OF THE LAST DOGS: JOURNEY’S END
COPYRIGHT
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Text copyright © 2013 by The Inkhouse
Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Allen Douglas
Excerpt from The Last Dogs: Journey’s End copyright © 2014 by The Inkhouse
Illustrations in excerpt from The Last Dogs: Journey’s End copyright © 2014 by Allen Douglas
Cover art © 2013 by Allen Douglas
Cover design by Liz Casal
Cover © 2013 Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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First ebook edition: November 2013
ISBN 978-0-316-25193-8
E3