The Pack (14 page)

Shep burst into the boat, panting heavily from running so hard back to the den. “Blaze!” he howled. “You won't believe what I did!”

Blaze stuck her muzzle out from the raised hall. She cocked her head, scenting how frazzled Shep was. “You smell like you just escaped a water lizard.”

“Some flat-snouted beast,” Shep managed between pants. “I killed it,” he woofed. “It was huge, and all muscle, so you know it was powerful. But I beat it! You should have seen the battle.”

Blaze's ears and tail perked up at the news. “Is it nearby? Can we bring it here?”

Shep licked his front paw. “No way,” he woofed. “I told you, this thing was huge and solid as a rock.”

Her tail dropped. “Well, that stinks.”

Shep wagged his tail. “It's not far,” he woofed. “I can show it to you before dark if we go now.”

Blaze panted, her jowls curling into a smirk. “You think I'm upset because I can't see your trophy beast?” she grunted. “Sorry to slobber on your kibble, hero, but I was interested in your catch because I thought it might help with the minor crisis we have on our paws.” Blaze then explained that all the kibble Shep had seen that afternoon — the pack's biggest catch ever — had disappeared.

“What happened?” he snuffled, shocked.

“Cats,” Blaze snarled. “Cats have been stealing food out of the kibble room through a hole in the floor. They clawed the glass out of the broken window, so the food just poured down. They dug a tunnel under the boat to carry their stolen meal away. The felines got a bit greedy this time, and took almost the entire haul. By the time we got the smaller members of the defense team, the cats had escaped. Daisy and Waffle shoved pillows and cloth into the hole to plug it up. I was just about to go find you. We need a plan before the pack gets a whiff of what happened.”

Shep chased around his brain for what to do. With each heartbeat, the news of the lost food was spreading. Shep heard the howling start up: “No food!” “Cats, measly cats broke our defenses?!” “Some dog was asleep at the watch!” “Does this mean no dinner? Again?”

Blaze's sharp cry ripped through the other voices. “It wasn't our defense team!” she barked. “It was that traitor, Fuzz! He helped the cats infiltrate our den!”

Shep cocked his head at the girldog, dumbfounded. “Where'd you hear that?” he snuffled.

“Just follow my tail,” Blaze replied in a low bark. “We can turn this to our advantage.”

Some of the dogs nearby began to woof. “I
have
seen a cat slinking through the den.” “Wasn't that cat with the dog who rescued me?” “He speaks dog, very strange.”

“He's betrayed the pack!” howled Blaze. “We must throw the traitor out!”

Shep nipped Blaze on the scruff. “What are you barking? You know Fuzz had nothing to do with the theft.”

“This will make the pack feel powerful, like they're in control,” Blaze woofed. “If we can blame the cat, then we remain strong. Do you want to tell the pack that this boat has weak points? That we're vulnerable? We're on the verge of a riot here. How long until all the hungry, terrified, angry dogs in this cramped den start tearing into each other?”

Blaze turned her muzzle back to the crowd. “Sniff out the cat! Root out the traitor!”

“I can't let you do this,” Shep yipped, his voice weak. He felt the floor slipping from beneath his paws. His heart raced; his lifeblood pounded so hard, he felt dizzy.

“It's done,” Blaze snapped. She swung her snout and Shep saw the dogs pressing down the hall toward Honey's den, heard the howls of “Bring out the cat!”

Blaze looked him square in the snout. “Now's your chance,” she barked. “You can take control of this stampede, or you can let it run right over you. But without you, this is the end of the pack.”

Shep felt she was right. He had to do something. What was better — to let the pack tear itself apart just to save a cat, one lowly cat, or to stand strong and bring all the dogs together behind a cause? So the plan would result in the expulsion of a blameless cat, and most likely Honey would follow Fuzz, but they hated Shep and all the other dogs in the pack, anyway. Maybe this was a blessing. Honey and Fuzz would probably be happier on their own. Yeah. This was the right thing. In every way.

Shep stood tall and barked. “Bring the traitor to me!” he howled.

Fuzz, hissing and spitting and screaming a high-pitched screech that seemed not of this world, was carried in Mooch's jaws down the hall. He looked so small, ridiculously small, against Mooch's huge chest. Honey's cries rose up from the rear of the crowd.

“NO!” she wailed. “He's innocent! He's been with me! Stop!
Fuzz!
”

Shep's heart raced even faster. He felt the room spinning around him. Dogs were leaping on others' backs and barking and howling. It reminded Shep of the wild pack in the kibble den. The dogs were frenzied; the scent of rage and hunger and lifebloodlust swirled in the tight space.

Mooch spat the trembling Fuzz onto the floor in front of Shep. Fuzz lay flat on the metal and looked up at Shep with a hate that burned him like ice.

“Shep-dog know Fuzz not do this,” Fuzz hissed. “Fuzz know you know.”

Shep ignored the cat. Every muzzle in the room was on his scent. “I have seen this cat use the tunnels under the boat,” Shep barked, stringing the woofs together from nothing. “He must have let the other cats in.”

The pack seethed around him. The dogs' eyes were shot through with red lines, their tongues lolled, and their jowls dripped with slaver. Some of the dogs began to tussle with one another. Shep felt like he was losing control. One dog snapped at Fuzz's tail. Fuzz swiped at the dog with his paw. Honey shrieked from far away.

“Silence!” howled Oscar. The pup shoved his way to Shep's side and glared down at the trembling Fuzz. “This is yet another trial put to the Storm Shaker as a test of his valor by the Great Wolf. We, his packmates, have faced drought and hunger with him, have braved heat and vile beasts. Now, we face the betrayal of one of our own packmates. This cat has violated the sacred trust of the Great Wolf's Champion. The Storm Shaker took him in, offered him shelter, and he has turned against us all. The cat is the agent of the Black Dog! Let us throw him out to join his true master!”

A weird baying cry erupted from Oscar's followers; it sounded like more than half the pack was in the club. The frenzied scent dissipated as Oscar's devotees lay down and began moaning Shep's name.

“What are you doing?” Shep grumbled.

“You want them to eat the cat?” snapped Oscar. “I figured Fuzz deserved better than that.”

“I could have done something,” Shep yipped, his bark weak and unconvincing.

“Why do you even care what happens with the pack?” growled Oscar. “You're never around the den. Go back to your hunting. We have the Storm Shaker. We don't need Shep anymore.”

Oscar turned back to the crowd. “Mooch, you will bear the traitor to his exile!”

Mooch snatched up Fuzz in her jowls. The cat stopped struggling. He simply glared at Shep with his piercing green eyes, those strange glowing slits, until they disappeared in the crowd.

Honey burst through the pack of dogs, stopping only to spit slobber at Shep's paws. “You swore to protect him,” she snarled. “Some Champion you've turned out to be.” She shoved her way through the dogs, shrieking out Fuzz's name.

Blaze sat beside Shep as the majority of the dogs followed Mooch and Oscar toward the crushed floor to expel Fuzz from the boat.
At least they didn't eat him
, thought Shep. His stomach turned at the thought.

“Did that redirect the herd or what?” Blaze woofed. “Now you have a unified pack who will follow your barks.” She tilted her head. “Aren't you going to thank me, hero? I made you the alpha.”

Shep felt hollow inside. Blaze was right; the pack was unified. But it was a pack on the verge of turning wild. He could feel the Black Dog skulking in every shadow.

Blaze gave up waiting for a response. “We should organize the hunting teams,” she barked. “We need to feed these dogs before they go absolutely squirrel-brained.” She seemed in control and energized. Maybe Shep was wrong. Maybe the pack had only been excited. Maybe things weren't that far gone.

“Yeah,” Shep yipped.

Blaze sighed. “Come on, big alpha Great Dog or whatever,” she barked. “Pull your fur together! I'll get Virgil and meet you in the ceiling room.”

Blaze leapt away from Shep into the main den. The heartbeat her scent left the air, Shep heard Callie's wheezy bark.

“Shep!” she moaned. “Get your fuzz head in here!”

Shep was confused — what did Callie have to be angry about? He loped down the hall to her dark sick den.

“Did I do something wrong?” he woofed.

Callie stared at him, brown eyes bulging from their sockets. “Wrong? You have to ask me if you did something wrong?”

“What, throwing out Fuzz? You never wanted him here in the first place.”

Callie lifted herself onto her paws. “Whether I wanted him at first doesn't change the fact that he was part of the pack before you and that snarling mob tossed him out on his tail.”

“He could have been helping those cats,” Shep woofed. “I did see him under the boat.”

“For the love of treats, listen to yourself!” Callie broke into a fit of coughing. “You threw the cat out —
cough cough
— for no reason other than to make yourself feel powerful!”

“No,” Shep snarled, “to make the
pack
feel powerful. How would it have gone over to tell every dog that our defense team couldn't defend them from a couple of scavenging cats?”

Callie stumbled toward him. “Oh, so whenever the pack needs to feel powerful, we won't tell them that we need to increase our defenses?
Cough!
No, we'll just blame some totally innocent and defenseless dog, someone no one likes, anyway. We'll blame Rufus! Perfect, Shep! Next time you need to increase morale, nose out the nasty old squaredog.”

“Callie, you're going too far —”

“Even better —
cough!
— let's drive out all the newborn pups! They're eating kibble without offering any help hunting. And the dams, too! And all the old dogs who can't do anything! All the yappers, Shep! Let's kick them all out!” Callie was panting hard, her bark a screech. Her whole body trembled.

Her back legs gave out, and her rump dropped onto the floor. She let her chest slide down onto the metal and rested her head on her paws.

“I would never let the pack attack another dog.” Shep laid his head down beside Callie's.

Callie moved her muzzle to the other side of her paws. “Several suns ago, I recall you swearing to defend that cat you just allowed to be hauled out of his den.”

“The pack was feeling vulnerable —”

“Save your excuses, Shep. Just leave me alone.” Callie shuffled on her paws so that she faced the back wall of the den, away from Shep.

Shep crept out of the room and found Blaze waiting with Virgil.

“Cat's gone,” she woofed. “Honey went with him. The pack's settling down in the main den. The defense team is watching from the edges to take care of any random fights that might break out. I told Oscar to tell one of his stories to keep them occupied.”

Blaze began dictating a hunting plan. She wanted to track the cats through the hole, kill them, and take back all the kibble.

Shep agreed to whatever she said. He felt like his heart had beat all the lifeblood out of him, as if his body was full of stuffing, like a toy's. As soon as they were dismissed, he used the back staircase-hole to leave the boat without passing through the main den. The last thing he wanted to hear was Oscar weaving his lies.

He found Dover out by his overturned boat, pacing circles in the dirt. The old dog smelled upset.

“I saw the pack chase out the cat,” he woofed. “What was that about?”

Shep explained about the kibble, about how he needed to keep the pack together. “I could feel their anxiety when they heard cats had stolen the meal. Every dog's so hungry, I think the loss of food was like the flea that sent the dog tearing out its own fur.” Shep lay down. “Blaze had the idea of blaming Fuzz, and it worked.”

Dover remained standing. “Don't you blame Blaze for this madness.” His bark was flat.

Shep stood, shocked by the unfriendly tone. “I'm not blaming her,” he woofed. “It
was
her idea.”

“And you followed her track?” Dover grumbled. “Tell me, pup, if it was just you, would you have thrown the cat out?”

Shep scented where this was going. “It wasn't
just
me, Dover,” he barked. “I had the whole pack breathing down my tail. What was I supposed to do? Let them go wild and tear one another apart?”

“I guess it depends on what kind of pack you're running,” Dover woofed. “Do you want to lead a pack that throws out its weakest members to make itself feel strong?”

Shep sat and scratched his shoulder. “Now you sound like Callie.”

Dover sat beside him. “Well, whose scent smells right: Callie's or Blaze's?”

Shep let the woofs hang there, like flies in the darkening evening. He didn't need to answer; he felt it in his gut. Callie was right. It had been wrong to throw out Fuzz. Better to let the pack fall apart than to lead a wild pack. They were loping down that track, Shep knew. How long until they were completely wild? How long until he was the Black Dog, watching his underlings tearing the fur from their backs?