Journey's End

by Christopher Holt

  In the caboose, Max could hear the puppies and kitten pacing back and forth.

  “We’re gonna get in so much trouble when Mama finds out,” Rufus whimpered.

  “Naw, Rufus,” Regina said. “You ain’t gonna tell, are you, Chuck?”

  “This ride will be our secret,” the Cavalier Spaniel assured her.

  Snow said, “I keep seeing eyes glowing in the trees. What do you suppose is out there?”

  From the coal car, Tiffany called, “Bears, mostly. But no need to worry about them. They’re too busy trying to dam the rivers to create pools where they can lay their eggs.”

  From Max’s side, Rocky groaned. Peeking up over the edge of the boxcar, he sniffed at Tiffany.

  “Bears don’t swim,” he told her. “And they sure don’t lay eggs.”

  Tiffany waved a paw at him. “Naw, they definitely do,” she insisted. “The lakes around here are positively overflowing with bear eggs. They’re as big as boulders, and the baby bears pop out full-grown and ready to swim!”

  Furious at Tiffany’s outright lies, Rocky bared his teeth and prepared to bark at her. Gizmo nipped him on the heel first.

  “Be nice,” she said.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rocky said as he dropped back into the boxcar and cuddled up next to Max and Gizmo.

  “You should pay attention to my stories, Rocky,” Tiffany taunted. “You have to remember all the details so you can tell everyone—just like you promised.”

  “Oh, we will,” Gizmo assured her with a wag of her tail. “We’re just going to be very, very quiet now, so we can think about everything you’ve said.”

  “Good,” the raccoon said, curling up on the bag of kibble.

  As the moon rose higher into the sky, the nervous barks and idle chatter of the animals gave way to soft snores as, one by one, they drifted off to sleep. Max’s own eyes were heavy, leaden things that he could no longer keep open, and his view of the vast night sky slowly turned into a sliver.

  “Hey, Max?” Gizmo asked.

  Max forced his eyes open. Lifting his head from the dusty floor, he looked at the fluffy terrier. Rocky was asleep next to her, his chest rising and falling slowly as he wheezed through his snout.

  “Yeah?” Max asked her.

  Lifting up a back paw, Gizmo scratched at the green collar around her neck. “Do you suppose Dr. Lynn has found a cure yet?”

  Max tilted his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “She said she’d come for us when she did, so I think she must still be working on it.”

  Gizmo’s ears fell. “Oh.”

  “Are you all right?” Max asked her.

  “I don’t know,” Gizmo said. “I’m a little afraid of what we’ll find at the wall. Those horses and the mice, they all said the humans may not want us around anymore.” She ducked her head. “Now we’re heading toward a big metal wall that shocks animals, and when one dog got past it he disappeared.”

  “You don’t need to worry,” Max said. “You’re the most courageous dog I know. If anyone can handle what’s at the end of the line, it’s you.”

  “I suppose so,” Gizmo said. “I don’t usually get this scared.”

  Max licked her between the ears. “As long as you, me, and Rocky are together, we’ll be just fine.”

  At that, Gizmo whispered, “You and me and Rocky. Family.”

  “That’s right,” Max said, and after a few moments, the two of them drifted off to sleep.

  Max was atop the silver wall.

  He was so high that clouds swirled around him, enveloping him in cool, foggy mist. Above, the sun seemed to fill the entire sky. The steel beneath his paws was as cold as ice, and the pads of his feet tingled with each step. Electricity hummed within the wall, but it did not sting him.

  Max paced back and forth uncertainly. On one side of the wall was an endless expanse of desert, with tents of all shapes and sizes as far as he could see—just as had been shown on the mall television. There were small green pup tents that were little more than tarps and string, and big gray domes with shiny barbecue grills out front. There were cars and trailers and RVs.

  Canvas tent flaps fluttered in the dry breeze. Tangled, dead weeds rolled through the dusty aisles between the makeshift shelters. Hot dogs left out on a grill had burned to ash. A lone radio played a tinny, cheerful tune that filled the empty streets.

  The endless dark cloud that had chased Max for so long was on the other side of the wall. It flowed around storm-damaged houses and overgrown trees, spilling into trash-filled gorges. From the darkness, animal voices brayed and barked, howled and mewed.

  This is our world now, the animal voices growled. Join us in the wild. Let us run free.

  But other animals howled, We miss our human families. Bring them home.

  The voices rose louder and louder in a din of angry shouts, pleading cries, and howls of fear.

  Max dropped to his belly. “Be quiet,” he barked, his eyes shut tight. “Please, be quiet!”

  Everything went silent.

  And Max awoke.

  Max’s eyes felt dry and itchy. His throat was parched; his fur and skin were baking beneath the hot sun.

  He was alone in the boxcar.

  And the train stood still.

  Panic snapped him awake, and Max sat up, looking for his friends. A bright sun glared—night had come and gone while Max slept. In the daylight, he saw that they weren’t in the fields and forests of Louisiana anymore.

  All around him were vast, dusty yellow plains, dotted with small, blackened bushes. The train track cut through the empty expanse, disappearing into the horizon. A fence made of small scraps of wood and barbed wire lined either side of the track, held crudely in place by rocks.

  A few wispy, feathery clouds floated in the pale blue sky, but they did nothing to shield Max from the sun. This landscape was different from the desert in his dreams. Here, he could see distant towers of rock, but not a single glimpse of silver. Still, somehow it felt like the same place.

  Dr. Lynn’s beacons might have blown away in the hurricane, but his dreams had taken Max here all the same.

  The end of his journey was near.

  Laughing, happy barks came from Max’s right, and he turned to see all the animals from the train. They had settled just past a trampled-down fence post, lounging in the shade beneath two slender trees that grew on the banks of a pond. Grass and buttery-yellow weeds sprouted on the shores of the shallow pool.

  Max jumped out of the boxcar, landing heavily on the hard-packed earth. He made his way past the fence to join the others.

  “All right, citizens,” Chuck said. On the opposite side of the pond, the Cavalier Spaniel paced back and forth in front of the white kitten and the two mutt puppies, who sat in a straight row. “Since there are no humans around to teach you, I think it’s high time you learned how to fetch.”

  “We know how to fetch,” Regina said.

  Chuck stopped pacing and touched his nose to the puppy’s. “You know how to do it on dry land,” he said. “But how about in the water?”

  “Ooh!” she yipped, her whole body squiggling with glee.

  “I don’t know if Mama wants us to get wet,” Rufus said.

  “I know mine doesn’t,” Snow yowled.

  Max saw Rocky and Gizmo cuddled together on a patch of grass at the base of one tree, next to the open bag of kibble. Under the other tree, Spots and Stripes lay side by side, watching Chuck’s training session.

  Gizmo noticed Max first. She leaped up and raced to him. “Good morning!”

  “Morning,” Max replied. “Why did we stop? Is everything all right?”

  “Oh, yes,” Gizmo said, wagging her tail. “It was so hot, and we were all so thirsty. When we saw this little pond we decided to stop and relax in the shade. We tried to wake you, but you were deep asleep.”

  “I must have been,” Max said as he padded to the edge of the pond. “Are you feeling better than last night?”

  “What’s that?” Rocky a
sked as he left the shade to join them. “You didn’t feel good, Gizmo?”

  “Oh,” Gizmo said. “No, I’m fine. You should drink and eat, Max. I bet you’re starving.”

  Max ducked his whole head into the shallow pool, then pulled up with a splash. The cool water was refreshing against his dry fur. “Nice!” He lapped at the water dripping around his jaws, then lowered his head to drink his fill.

  On the other side of the pond, Chuck picked up a branch with his jaws, spun in a wild circle, and then let the branch fly loose. It flew through the air and landed with a small splash in the center of the pond, sending out ripples.

  “Go get it!” Chuck howled.

  Regina bounded into the water without hesitation, her head high as she paddled her tiny legs. Her brother made it to the water’s edge, then looked warily over at Spots and Stripes.

  “What are you waiting for, son?” Spots asked.

  “My mama…” he said.

  Stripes swished her tail. “It’ll be all right, Rufus. If she finds out, I’ll take full responsibility.”

  Above the old dog and the skunk, nestled in the crook of the tree, was Tiffany. “You already left town and came this far,” she told the puppy. “Dive in! That’s what the Silver Bandit would do!”

  From the pond, the girl mutt panted, “Almost got it!”

  That was all the convincing Rufus needed. He dove in, yipped once, and then swam after his sister.

  Tiffany tossed a bundle of leaves down at the kitten. “What about you? You afraid, too?”

  The kitten glared at Tiffany, then slowly stalked to the water’s edge. She pawed once, twice at the ripples, hissed, and then backed away.

  “They’re so funny, those pups,” Rocky said.

  Gizmo wagged her tail. “When I was that little, swimming seemed like the bravest, most dangerous thing you could do. I couldn’t wait!”

  “Not me,” Rocky said. “If you’d have told me that I’d be diving into pools, rivers, sewers, and oceans, I never would’ve left my crate at Vet’s house.”

  Max wagged his tail at his two friends. “I’d say we’re all expert water dogs by now.”

  While the puppies, kitten, and Chuck continued to play, Max went to the bag of kibble beneath the tree and ate his fill. With his belly content and his body rested, Max felt renewed with purpose. He needed to reach that wall and find his pack leaders and Dr. Lynn—before Dolph caught up with them once more. He’d almost forgotten about the wolves, but they were as much of a threat as ever.

  “How do, Max?” Stripes asked as Max came to lie next to her and Spots.

  “I’m thankful,” he said. “I’m glad we got to ride the train and rest, instead of walking through the night.”

  Spots gazed up at the apple-red train, which gleamed in the bright morning light. “For a toy, it’s proved a sturdy locomotive,” the old coonhound said. “I prefer the smells and sounds of the steam engine my pack leader drove, but I suppose electricity works just as well.”

  “Speaking of electricity,” Max said, “I wanted to ask you more about the wall.”

  “Like what?” Spots asked.

  “Is it just a wall in the middle of the desert?” Max asked. “Are there buildings around it? Or other obstacles?”

  Spots rested his head on his paws. “Well, there are three sections you have to look out for. First thing is one of those chain-link fences topped with sharp wire, like the wire on the fence by the track here. That’s easy enough to get under.

  “After that is a stretch of road leading up to the real barricade, the metal one. The wall is as high as three humans standing on each other’s shoulders, and it disappears under the ground, too. It took Dots and me days to dig under it—often we’d have to stop and hide when the gate on the chain fence opened to allow trucks to roll through.”

  “There were humans there, then?” Max asked. “Were they friendly?”

  Spots looked away from Max for a moment before responding. “I was excited to see them, I admit,” he said. “But Dots said those trucks reminded him of when the men in green uniforms came through town and made all the people leave. He didn’t trust them, so we hid behind some trees until they went away.

  “Those trucks came back regular, though,” he continued, “sure as the sun rises and sets.”

  Max hadn’t seen the trucks that had come to take away the humans, but he’d heard stories from other animals. Some of the people in the trucks had worn uniforms and black masks; others, baggy white suits with hoods. He shivered, hoping none of those people had forced his own pack leaders out of their beds and into the back of vehicles headed toward this wall.

  Softly, Spots went on. “When the trucks came to drive on the stretch of land between the fence and the wall, we hid. After the wall parted and they went inside, or when the fence opened so they could ride into the desert, we were safe to dig. Dots was so excited when we made it all the way under the wall that he dove right in and out the other side. I barely got a glimpse of those tents on the far side before that light glared, and the hole caved in. Now…” He whimpered. “Now Dots is gone forever.”

  Stripes scooted in close to the old dog’s side. “Whether Dots is gone forever or if he’s just gone for now,” she said, “you still have me, Spots.”

  “I know I do,” he replied, then licked her small head. “You’re family just as much as he was.”

  Max wanted to ask more, but he could tell Spots was too worn out with sadness to say anything else. That they’d convinced the old Train Dog to bring them this far was a miracle.

  Max let the small animals play for a bit longer before he announced that they needed to continue on. Max, Chuck, and Spots helped drag the bag of kibble back to the train while the others climbed into the cars. At Tiffany’s suggestion, the puppies shook themselves free of water next to Snow—who yowled and zipped ahead.

  With everyone situated, Spots took his place in the locomotive and barked, “All aboard!”

  “Yes, Conductor!” Stripes answered.

  Satisfied, Spots nosed the lever. The train jolted, and squeals rose as the wheels began to move them forward. The wooden boxcar rumbled as the train gained speed.

  Closing his eyes, Max let the breeze from the moving train pick up his ears and ease the heat from the desert sun. But the wind lasted for only a few moments before his floppy ears fell down on either side of his head. The rumbling lessened to a jostle, and the locomotive’s engine wheezed. Then the train came to a slow, gentle stop not far from where they’d started.

  “What’s going on up there?” Rocky barked. “Give us some more juice!”

  “I keep pressing the throttle, but nothing is happening,” Spots said. “If this happened on the big locomotive, we’d shove in some more coal.”

  “What does that mean?” Gizmo asked.

  “I think,” Spots said, “it means we’re out of electricity. We’re stranded.”

  CHAPTER 16

  DESERT TOWN

  Yelps and mews of distress rose from the boxcar behind Max.

  “I want my mom!” the kitten yowled.

  The little raccoon appeared out of nowhere, like the masked bandit she claimed to be. Climbing through the locomotive’s back window, she leaped up to the lever that made the train run, shoved it forward, and then squealed with anger when nothing happened. Meanwhile, Max jumped out of the boxcar, landing beside the tracks. Rocky and Gizmo plopped out behind him, and the three dogs peered into the locomotive.

  Max saw right away that Spots was correct: The arrow on the control panel had dropped all the way out of the green part of the gauge and back into the red.

  The train no longer had any power.

  “What are we gonna do?” Rocky said.

  “We have to walk the rest of the way,” Max said, lowering his head. “There’s no other option. We can’t stay here, in the middle of nowhere.”

  Tiffany climbed atop the roof of the red locomotive and splayed onto her back, letting the sun warm her gray bel
ly. “You can’t expect me to walk all the way to some wall,” she said. “I’m the Silver Bandit! I have to save my strength.”

  Stripes peeked her black-and-white head over the edge of the coal cart. “She’s right,” the skunk said. “It was one thing when we had a train to carry us, but these kits’ mothers are going to worry if we don’t get back soon.”

  Gizmo spun in a circle next to Max. “Maybe there’s some way we can charge it up again,” she said. “Another little power box, like back at the tiny town.”

  Max glanced around. Save for the pond shaded by the two trees, there was nothing for miles but endless, tan desert. A dry breeze rose, kicking up dust, and Max sneezed.

  Sighing, Spots dropped down out of the locomotive. “I’m afraid this is as far as the train can take us,” he said. “If it were a proper steam engine, we could just load up more coal and get her running again. But it’s not.”

  “Could you come with us?” Max asked. “To show us where to go?”

  Spots sat on the gravel next to the track, then raised a back leg to scratch behind his ear. “Afraid I can’t,” he said. “I’m too old to go hiking all the way there again, then all the way back to DeQuincy. I think it’s best I lead these young’uns home.”

  Gizmo padded toward the old coonhound and nuzzled his side. “We understand. Thanks for coming as far as you did.”

  Tail thumping, Spots said, “It was my pleasure, little terrier. Since I lost Dots, I’d forgotten what it was like to enjoy myself. It was a fitting final ride.”

  Gravel crunched, and Max watched as the puppies and kitten trotted obediently into a line behind Chuck.

  “What’s going on, Conductor?” Chuck asked as he and his three tiny followers joined the group. “Are we going back home?”

  “That we are,” Spots said. “But not on the train. We have a bit of a walk ahead of us.”

  “Oh, no,” Rufus yipped. “What about the bears in the woods? And the bobcats!”