Canine Maximus Max (MOSAR Book 1)

by C. R. Turner

  “The fur on the inside will keep you warm.”

  My smile fades as I think about the impossible, yet only, decision I have to make.

  “I love it. How long did it take you to make?” I ask, putting my hands in the pockets.

  “I’ve been working on it at night after you go to bed. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  I hug her. “Thank you. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  A few days later, Samantha and I are sitting at the table eating dinner when I look up at her. I’ve been dreading saying the words but force myself. “I’ve been thinking that Max and I should leave soon.”

  Samantha’s smile disappears and she puts her fork down on her plate. “Do you have to go?”

  “We have to. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you because of me. If the striker scout finds us, he’ll draft you into the Union as well.”

  We’re silent for a while until I notice a tear running down Samantha’s check, her chin quivering. The look on her face is so heartbreaking.

  She wipes the tear and clears her throat.

  “We have to get over the Seration Mountain Range before winter, and I’d like to get to Arcadia before winter as well. Why don’t you come with us?”

  Samantha looks up, fighting back tears. “What? I can’t. My father might come home.” Another tear runs down her cheek.

  I don’t say anything as I don’t want to upset her any further, and we continue eating our dinner. Once we’re finished, we silently clean up the kitchen, both lost in our thoughts.

  Later we’re sitting around when Samantha looks at me. “How are you going to get to Arcadia?”

  “My father had a friend who lives up near the abandoned naval base. He’s an ex-Navy Commander. I was hoping he would have a boat that could take us across.”

  “How will you find him?”

  “My father gave me a map of the area. I’ve had it since I was young. There’s a coast guard station that overlooks the ocean near the harbour entrance, where his friend used to live. I hope he’s still there after all these years.”

  The next day, I pack up our things, getting enough supplies together to continue on our journey. Samantha has made me a bow and arrow set and given me lots of seeds to plant when Max and I get to Arcadia.

  Samantha walks in the room and I look up. “I’ve been thinking that we’d leave tomorrow night,” I say. “I thought night-time might be best. I don’t think those motion-activated cameras have infrared, so if I travel at night, we should get away clean.”

  “Okay.” Samantha nods.

  We’re all standing in the foyer. It’s time to head off. I’ve grabbed my gear and Max is saddled with a couple of extra blankets Samantha has given us, plus the Heat-sheet is strapped to the rear of the saddle.

  Samantha puts her arms around me and says, “I’ll miss you.”

  I hug her tightly. “I wish you were coming with us.”

  As my arms fall to my side, she grabs my hands and kisses me on the lips. Our eyes lock. What am I doing? Then I remember the teenage girl in Paelagus, the one being led away by Union police in chains. I’m doing the right thing, but this is killing me.

  “Goodbye,” I mutter.

  “Goodbye,” she replies so softly the words are barely discernible.

  I turn away, struggling to hide my emotions. I jump up on Max and Samantha hands me my bow and arrows. I nudge Max and we go through the double doors. With both Hati and Skoll set, a stream of stars runs from horizon to horizon against the black sky. Samantha folds her arms against her body in the frigid air, then runs up to us and pats Max on the head. “Goodbye, Max.” He lowers his head and she kisses him on the forehead before walking up to me and putting her hand on my leg. “Goodbye.” She wipes tears from her face.

  “Bye,” I say, my voice cracking. I give Max another nudge. As we walk into the night, I turn back and watch as Samantha waves, then slowly disappears in the dark. I’m gutted for causing her pain, but I know we can’t stay. I never expected it, but Max seems just as heavy hearted.

  Eventually, the industrial area ends, giving way to open grasslands and the occasional outcrop of rocks. With no shelter to hide in an emergency, I survey our surrounds. It’ll be risky being so exposed, but we have no choice. “Come on, Max. Let’s keep going.”

  We’ve travelled for days and nights in the freezing cold, and I’m enjoying the first rays of Hati’s warmth on my face. With the foot of the Seration Mountain Range in the distance, I notice what looks like a tarred road off in the distance, running north and winding up through the mountain range. We move on. Hati’s light is lighting up the mountains, revealing their glory. I’m mesmerised. Breathless. The pine trees start at the foot of the mountains and extend halfway up, where barren, rocky mountain tops soar skyward through the clouds.

  Max runs up the embankment onto the road that cuts up through the mountain range and I jump off to give him a rest. I tip my water bottle to my mouth, but nothing comes out. A layer of ice is blocking the opening. I replace the lid and smack the bottle against my palm a couple of times, then take a small mouthful of the freezing water, then another. I cup my hand and pour some in for Max, the cold stinging my skin. He laps it up, splashing it everywhere as he drinks. I tip the water bottle up and Max laps as the water runs free.

  We continue north along the road into the foot of the mountain range. A short way into the mountain pass, we venture up a dirt road leading into the bush. The area is filled with massive old pine trees, and I duck as we pass under low-lying branches. Still further on, the dirt road opens up to a small grassy opening at the foot of a rocky cliff face. I jump off Max and look around. “What do you think, Max? This do?”

  With his saddle and reins off, he shakes violently from side to side after having his saddle on for days. I laugh and scratch his back, roughing up his fur.

  I rummage around for kindling and drag some big logs out of the surrounding bush. Max drops down next to me. Once the fire’s going strong, we lay around resting as the day goes by. I watch the campfire crackle, heating my face, and look at Max.

  “We’ve come a long way, hey Max?”

  He lifts his head and stares at me.

  “I can’t wait to make to Arcadia.” My mind quickly wanders to Samantha and wishing she was here with us. I wonder what she’s doing right now.

  When I finish talking, Max plonks his head back down, rolls over on his side and puts his head on the ground next to me. I run my hand over him. “We’re getting there.” Max rolls his eyes up at me, then back down. After hours of sitting around the campfire, I get one of the blankets and lay it out for a bed, use my backpack for a pillow and grab the second blanket to throw over me. Night falls and I lie looking up at the night sky, getting up from time to time to throw another log on the fire, until both Max and I finally drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 9

  I wake early to a thick layer of frost. The campfire is still glowing from the night before, and Max is curled up in a tight ball next to my bed. When I sit up to look around, Max peeks from the corner of his eyes without so much as moving a muscle. I jump up and throw a couple of logs and sticks on the fire, poke at the coals to get the flames going, then jump straight back in bed, sitting up with my blanket wrapped around me. A few minutes later the fire’s roaring again, and Max and I sit in front of it, soaking up the heat crackling in the frigid air. After an hour or so, I get some meat out and heat it on the fire. I cut most of it off and give it to Max, then sit in front of the fire to eat my portion.

  Throughout the day, there’s an occasional break in the trees, giving glimpses of the view as we continue to climb the steep mountainous road. When we come across a clearing, I stop to look out over the trees and flat grasslands. We covered a lot of ground the past few days. The industrial area is far on the horizon, but I can just make out some of the tallest buildings in Paelagus city. Seeing all this behind us, lifts my spirits, and although we still have to mak
e it over the Seration Mountain Range and find some way of making it across to Arcadia, I can’t help but feel the hardest trek is behind us.

  Soon it’s time to find somewhere to stay the night again. Up ahead, I spot a gate a hundred or so feet off the main road. We head over, and I jump down to find it’s locked. The timber fence on either side is rotten, so I rock it back and forth a few times until it falls over. The dirt road is completely overgrown, and at times, Max and I struggle to continue as the road winds around steep hills and on through dark forest. Finally, the road opens up to an old timber cabin in a small clearing.

  I survey the surrounding area, then look closely at the cabin for any signs it might be occupied. The guttering is falling down, and several large tree branches have fallen on the roof, damaging it.

  I proceed up the steps. With Hati set, there’s only a soft glow on the horizon as storm clouds gather, and the whole area is darkened by the surrounding thick forest. I pull out my torch, but it’s a struggle to see anything through the filthy windows. I creak open the front door. It swings inward and hits something inside with a bang. I put one foot inside the cabin and shine the torch around. The floor is covered in old newspapers and rubbish. Further in the cabin, something catches my eye, and I quickly spin around shining my torch on it. I gulp in fright. Two bodies lie on the floor in front of the fireplace. They’re badly decomposed with only their clothes holding their remains together, and they look like they’ve been picked at by rodents. It’s obvious they’ve been there for a long time as there’s little smell coming from them.

  I take a step back, and right at that second, there’s a sudden flash of lightning and the whole area lights up like daylight, followed by thunder.

  The cabin smells musty, and is filled with the couple’s belongings: photos, lanterns, cutlery and utensils, although no food by the looks of it. I wonder if the pandemic caught up with them or whether they simply starved to death. Regardless of how they passed, the poor couple deserve a decent resting place.

  I walk back out to Max, pat him on the head and look directly up through the trees at the heavy rain clouds and more flashes of lightning. We’re going to have to stay here the night. I find an old sheet of corrugated iron around the back of the cabin and scrape off all the dead leaves, pick it up and carry it inside, placing it next to the bodies. I gently grab the clothing of the first body, slide it onto the corrugated iron, then drag it outside. Max lowers his head towards it and sniffs. I pull at the corrugated iron and it trundles down the front steps, then I drag it over to some trees and slide the body off. One down.

  As I start up the stairs for the other one, there’s another flash of lightning and almost instantaneously, an enormous thunder clap that makes both Max and me jump in fright. A few seconds later, massive rain drops fall on the cabin’s iron roof, one at a time, slowly gathering pace. Great.

  Once I’ve got the other body outside, I cover them both with the sheet of iron and place some rocks on top to hold it down. I’ll give them a proper burial in the morning. I lead Max back to the cabin. He has to squeeze under the door frame, and the timber floor boards creak under the weight of his massive frame. I wonder whether he’ll fall through the floor. I pick up all the old newspapers and stuff them into the fireplace, but there isn’t much firewood inside, so I run outside and find a stash of firewood stacked up against the rear of the cabin. I load my arms up with as much as I can carry, and on the second trip, the rain is torrential.

  My soaked jacket is hanging up in front of the fireplace with steam pouring off it as the fire burns strongly, lighting up most of the cabin in a warm glow. With the cabin tidied up, Max and I sit in front of the fireplace waiting for our dinner to heat, the sound of heavy rain hammers the rusty iron roof with occasional drops falling through to the timber floorboards.

  After dinner, the storm is still raging, leaves and branches hitting the cabin and the old iron roof flapping in the wind. Sitting up on my bed with a blanket around me, I look at Max. “I’m glad we found this place. We would’ve gotten soaked.” Max stares at me without moving, the soft glow from the fireplace illuminating his shiny jet-black coat, before he drops his head to the floor.

  The next morning, I look out through the grimy glass at the rain, which has eased off a lot. I retrieve my jacket from the fire place. It’s nice and toasty. As I reach the door, Max jumps up to follow. I raise my hand. “Stay, Max. You stay here … I won’t be long.”

  At the back of the cabin I find an old tin shed that’s mostly fallen over, only just being held up by the stuff inside. I rummage around and find a shovel.

  Next to the bodies, I dig, labouring away in the rocky ground as the rain falls and knowing all too well how deep the hole needs to be. I throw the shovel aside and pull the bodies into the grave, one at a time, before climbing out. Soaked to the bone, splinters in my hands, I fill in the hole.

  When I’m done, I look at the ground. With no headstone, the only way to tell there are two bodies down there is the slight mound and different colour of the soil. How long had they been laying in the cabin. Months? Years? I wonder if anyone will even remember them. At first, I feel sad for them, but then I realise that, given enough time, everyone is eventually forgotten. I’m sure I’ll be forgotten. At least I was able to give them a burial. I hope someone does the same for me. The rain gets heavier. I turn and head back inside.

  Max and I have been resting inside the cabin all day, listening to the rain on the roof as we sit in front of the fireplace. Watching the flames jump around, my mind wanders. What’s Samantha doing right now? I picture her in her garden weeding, her hair in a ponytail and sleeves rolled up. It’s not long till my mind wanders to the striker scout. Where is he right now?

  Late in the afternoon, I walk over to the window. The rain has eased to a light drizzle. I look over at Max lying on the floor in front of the fireplace.

  “You want to go hunting, Max?”

  Max and I return to the cabin with a deer slung over his back tied down with a length of rope. I hang the carcass on the veranda, stoke the fireplace, then go back outside to skin the deer before cutting it up.

  Night has fallen, and I have lots of meat smoking on the fireplace. There’s a scratching at the front door. I smile and open the door to see Max has finished his dinner, licking his lips and wanting in. He sits by the fireplace. I join him. When the meat is finished being smoked, I pack most of it away and heat some vegetables.

  In the morning, the rain has stopped. We should probably keep moving, so I pack our things, and load up Max, taking one last look at the cabin, the surrounding forest and the patch of dirt where I buried the two bodies. Birds fly by chirping and a breeze is blowing. I squeeze Max in the ribs and we’re off.

  When we reach the main road, we make our way up through the mountain range. The road twists back and forth as we gain height. Nearing midday, it begins to straighten out, and the pine trees become smaller and sparser until they disappear altogether. I stop to give Max a break, pulling over to the side of the road. The whole area is enveloped in fog, being so high in altitude, and we can’t see more than fifty or so feet ahead. The area alongside the road has a steel barricade around it. I walk to the edge and look down at the enormous drop.

  We continue on until we’ve gained enough altitude to be above the clouds. The scenery is surreal: white clouds run off to the south like the surface of an ocean; and to the north, rocky mountain tops stick up like islands. Above the clouds, the terrain is dry and desolate. An impossible journey in winter.

  The air is getting thinner, and a stiff breeze blows from the north. Hati shines down on us with little effect. Max is shivering and wheezing. I jump off him, pull out the deer skin and wrap it around his neck, then cover my face with my scarf as best I can, just my eyes and forehead exposed.

  Towards the end of the day, the breeze has turned into a strong wind, its chill feeling like it’s come straight off a glacier. Both Max and I are shivering, and as Hati is still mid-sky,
I worry we mightn’t even last the day. I pull on Max’s reins stopping him in his tracks and look back down the road. Should we turn back? I should have prepared better. I look north gain and hesitantly squeeze Max to continue on, whipped by the howling northerly wind.

  When Hati is half set, I shake my head. “I can’t take anymore, Max.” I lead him off the road, finding a gully to hide from the wind. We sit side-by-side, only slightly sheltered from the wind, both shaking. “I’m sorry for dragging you through this.” God, I hope my father’s friend is still there after all these years, or this might have all been for nothing. It’s too late in the day to turn back, and the temperature is dropping too fast to go on. I pull my blankets out and wrap them around both of us. Too cold to make dinner or do anything else, I cringe under the blankets until night falls, then try to get some sleep.

  Morning. I have an excruciating headache and am barely able to feel my fingers. All my joints are aching, and any skin exposed to the air overnight has gone hard and is turning white. Max’s fur seems to have helped insulate him somewhat, his biggest drain, the lack of oxygen. I pick up my water bottle, but its swollen and the whole thing frozen solid. The wind has eased off a fair bit and Max looks at me with complete exhaustion.

  I get some smoked meat out and give some to Max. My stomach in a knot, and I only manage to eat a small portion. “I’m so sick of this stuff.”

  Max slowly stands and stretches, having barely moved all night.

  Back on the road, both of us are struggling to breathe in the thin air, although Max is finding it particularly hard, so I walk alongside carrying my backpack to ease the load on him.

  The vegetation has completely disappeared, only occasional small splotches of moss grows on rocks. With no birds, ants or any other sign of life in the dry frozen wasteland, I start to think that this part of the trip could actually kill us. Stopping for lunch, I unpack some food, and out of habit, look around for wood to build a campfire. There’s none, because nothing lives this high up. I turn to Max, “Sorry, Max, but it’s more of the same.” I put some frozen meat out for Max, then sit on a rock to chew away at a piece myself, barely able to taste it.