The Pack (4 page)

Shep zigzagged down the trash-strewn street, Oscar dangling from his jaws. The pup seemed to be having the time of his life. He kept howling with joy, “I'm in a real chase!” like there weren't Great Wolf knows how many wild dogs on their tails. Shep prayed that the pup's skin wouldn't split on his fangs.

The large buildings along the street's edge gave way to smaller structures, many of which had been flattened by the storm. Only a wall or two of most survived. Shep sprang onto a toppled tree and saw his pack gathered not far from where he stood.
Why did they stop?
he wondered, leaping down from the trunk. As he approached, the pets parted, and he saw the problem at paw.

The road ended at a wide, brackish river at least fifteen stretches across, like a street of water. On its surface was a scum of refuse, and whole tree trunks whirled in the water's flow. A ramp in the stone wall holding the river led down from the street to a narrow dock. On the other side of the river, there was another dock attached to a staircase that led up the opposite side to the street.

Callie was perched on the wall at the water's edge, yapping with Higgins and Daisy. Shep dropped Oscar at Boji's side.

“Wait, Shep!” the pup cried. “Can't I go with you?”

“Stay with Boji!” he barked, maybe a little too sharply. He saw the pup wince, then whimper, but he had no time to apologize. He bounded to Callie's side.

“Why have you stopped?” he woofed. “There's a pack of wild dogs on our scent.”

“You've noticed perhaps the gigantic river that cuts through the road?” she replied.

“It's not a river,” yipped Higgins. “It's a canal. Humans cross them on boats, but there aren't any boats at the dock.”

“We'll swim it,” Shep barked. “As a bonus, the water might cover our scent.”

“Not all dogs can swim,” growled Daisy, who looked about as buoyant as a stone.

Honey stuck her nose into the conversation. “Fuzz and I know a way to get you across, Daisy,” she woofed.

“Yes,” hissed the cat. “Dog swim on dog. Fuzz and Honey-friend show.” He nipped Honey's ear and she dutifully raced down the ramp and leapt into the water. She paddled across with Fuzz sitting on her back, then pulled herself out on the other side.

“Brilliant!” barked Callie, but the rest of the dogs began to anxiously lick their jaws or chatter their teeth.

“I don't care if I have to haul every dog into that canal by the scruff,” snapped Shep. “You get your tails into that water!”

Shep scented their fear — the pack seemed unsure whether they were more afraid of him or the wild dogs.
That's not good
, he thought. He didn't want his own pack afraid of him.

He loped up to Oscar, who sulked against Boji's hind leg. “You want to be a hero, pup?”

Oscar was on his paws in a heartbeat, tail whipping back and forth. “I'll do anything for you, Shep!” he yipped.

“Follow me,” Shep barked.

Shep padded down the ramp, with Oscar scrambling after, then dove into the water. He swam next to the dock so Oscar could climb on his back. The pup did so, trembling from nose to tail, but with a brave grin on his jowls. As soon as Oscar was settled on Shep's withers, Shep paddled out into the river.

“It's working!” barked Higgins. “The stinking cat was right!”

Shep glanced back at the rest of the dogs and was relieved to see that they were following him. Cheese bounded down the ramp and leapt into the water like he was born to swim. Hulk gingerly dipped his paw into the canal, then belly flopped into the water. Poor Baxter, who was still a bundle of trembles from the wild dog's attack, trundled onto Hulk's back and they began floating across the water.

Honey and Fuzz cheered the dogs on from the opposite dock.

“It's easy!” Honey barked. “Just go for it!”

“Yes, fat-dog,” spat Fuzz. “You look like good float for fluffy-fur.”

Hulk stopped near Shep with a jerk, nearly knocking Baxter from his perch. “I felt something!” he squealed.

Shep sniffed the water. “It's probably just one of those little flickery things that swim in water,” he barked, recalling the tank in the kibble den. “Just keep going!”

The dogs' splashes rang up and down the walls of the canal. Some small dogs, like Callie, chugged along with the big dogs through the water. Shep kept glancing over his shoulder at the street, praying that every dog made it in before the wild pack caught up with them.

“Ouch!” yelped a big brown dog, Bernie — a Rhodesian ridgeback (Shep liked that name). “Something just nicked my paw!”

“Keep paddling!” Callie barked.

“Keep those paws pumping!” Oscar yapped from Shep's back.

The first dogs reached the other side and Honey helped to pull them from the water.

“Help!” yapped Daisy. Her paws scraped at Dover's fur as she slipped from his back.

Cheese paddled to her side and nosed her back up onto Dover's withers. “There you g —”

Cheese disappeared under the water.

“Cheese!” Daisy cried, nearly plunging in behind him.

“Hold on!” barked Dover, paddling with all his strength.

Shep couldn't do anything with Oscar on his back. He dug his paws through the water as fast as he could. Some of the dogs already on the dock dove back into the canal. Virgil was the first to reach where Cheese had been.

“Nothing!” Virgil snapped. “Just bubbles from below!”

Suddenly, the water churned. Something the size of a tree rolled near the surface. Bubbles foamed around the violently thrashing form. Terrified, Shep drifted, paws still. The rest of the pack stalled, too, and watched the raging water.

Dover pulled himself onto the dock. “Everyone, out of the water!” he cried.
“Get out now!”
His bark was frantic, like his very life depended on every dog being on the dock with him.

Shep shook off his fear and repeated Dover's command. “Dig, dogs! Dig in!”

The water calmed — the tree-monster was gone. All that remained was a froth of scum on the canal's surface. But Shep scented a new danger.

“Thought you'd shaken us, pets?”

The wild pack had finally caught up with them. The first wild dog to the edge of the river jumped right in with a crash. Shep spotted a tree branch glide out of a nearby eddy. The branch split into a mouth of sharp teeth and snapped around the wild dog. The dog barely had time to yelp before being dragged underwater and rolled by the tree.

Shep dug his claws through the river as fast as he could until he reached the dock. He pulled himself onto it, dripping and panting hard with Oscar still clinging to his fur like a tick.

The wild pack stayed on the opposite side of the water, watching the lifeblood of their packmate stain the canal's roiling surface. There were only a few wild dogs in this pack — nothing like what Shep had fought in the kibble den.

“Catch you next sun,” snapped one girldog. The wild dogs scattered into the shadows.

The second tree stopped rolling and sank into the dark water. Shep noticed that the other trees in the canal were moving against the current.

They weren't trees — they were all alive.

 

Callie sniffed the edge of the dock, then looked at Dover. “Do you know what happened to Cheese?” Every few heartbeats, a violent tremble rippled over her body.

Dover stared across the black water. “Water lizard,” he woofed quietly. “Humans call them Gators. I've done some swamp hunting with my master. He always shied away from any place he saw a water lizard.”

“Can we kill it?” Virgil growled. “Can we save Cheese?” His jaws were set tight.

“No,” Dover said. “Water lizards are big — some as long as a Car. There was nothing any of us could do to save Cheese.”

The shoulders of Shep's packmates pressed against him — the dock groaned under their collective weight. All eyes watched the canal's flowing surface as if the water itself threatened to swirl into a giant mouth and suck them all down. They were terrified, and that meant they were easy pickings for any predator, be it wild dog or monster tree. Shep had to distract them. Get them moving. That was his job as the doer.

“Every dog!” he barked. “Up the stairs to the street!” He nipped the rumps and shoulders of the dogs nearest him, and the pack began to move.

“Time to walk on your own four paws,” Shep woofed to Oscar. He lay down and the pup slid onto the dock.

Honey shoved through the crowd of dogs, her tail low. “I'm so sorry, Shep!” she cried. “I wish I'd kept my snout shut about swimming. But I promise I didn't know about the water lizards.”

“Why are you sorry?” woofed Shep. “I'm the one who ordered every dog into the canal.”

“See, Honey-friend?” spat Fuzz, who crept out from under Honey's belly. “This not Honey-friend's fault, so stop with the sad-tail. Everything Shep-dog fault.” Fuzz shot Shep a defiant look, as if daring Shep to disagree with his assessment.

The clouds began to drip — the pack needed to find a place to hole up for the night. Shep swallowed his pride and straightened his stance. “The cat's right,” he woofed. “This is on my withers. You had a good idea.” Shep licked Honey's snout.

Honey's tail waved and a shy grin spread across her jowls. “It was Fuzz's idea, too,” she yipped.

Fuzz licked a paw and ran it over his ears. “Fuzz no expect thanks from Shep-dog,” he hissed.

Oscar puffed out his little chest and strutted up to the meower. “Hey, furball, who do you think you're hissing at?” he growled. “If it weren't for Shep, this pack would've eaten —”

Shep nipped Oscar on the scruff. “Let's just get off this dock, okay?” he woofed.

Oscar snorted at the cat and trotted over to the staircase, which of course he couldn't climb, so he stood there, glaring at the step, until Shep lifted him in his jaws and carried him up to the street. Fuzz flicked the pup in the nose with his ridiculously long, fluffy tail as he passed them on the stairs.

Callie was waiting for Shep at the top of the steps. “This is bad,” she groaned. “It's raining, and we were just attacked by trees with teeth, and the whole pack is twitchy watching for wild dogs and water lizards.”

Shep dropped Oscar, then lifted his head so he was snout-to-snout with Callie. “Breathe,” he woofed. “First thing, we need to get away from this river of death and find someplace to sleep before we're all soaked to the skin.”

Callie took a deep breath in, then snorted. “Ugh!” she yipped. “Snoutful of Shep breath!”

 

Shep found Virgil, and the two of them barked the pack into some order so that they could move away from the canal. They allowed Boji a last mournful look at the water, which rippled with raindrops. When it became clear that she was staying in her sit, Shep padded to her side.

“I can't leave him,” Boji woofed.

“And I can't leave you here, Boji,” Shep snuffled. “The pack needs you. Who else is going to keep those evil steps in check?” He smiled at her and she waved her tail.

“Could you say something?” she said. “Like you did for Frizzle? Cheese so admired you. It would mean a lot to him. And to me.”

Shep looked into her deep brown eyes — how could he say no to her? But he was no good at this. What he'd said for Frizzle had been a fluke; the woofs burbled up from the horrible guilt he'd felt. He couldn't have yapped a bark if he'd really
thought
about it. However, looking at Boji's muzzle, he sensed she wasn't leaving without his saying something.

Shep faced the canal. “Cheese — grr, Wensleydale, you always had a wag in your tail and a grin on your snout. You were there for your packmates when they needed you. With your last pant, you were helping a friend. I hope we can all say the same when the Great Wolf comes for us.”

Boji smiled and bowed her head. “Thank you,” she woofed. She gave the murky waters one last look, then stood. “I'm ready now.”

They turned, and the whole pack was facing them, every dog standing tall. As Shep passed through them, they wagged their tails. They didn't smell afraid anymore.

Shep found Callie near the front of the group.

“I don't know where you come up with this stuff,” she woofed, “but you really have a gift.” She licked his snout.

 

It was nearly dark as the pack moved down the street, away from the canal, toward sunset. They hadn't gone far when Shep spotted a huge black box. As he moved closer, he saw that it was one of those long Cars that Shep's boy used to call a “bus.” This bus was tipped on its side and its front window was broken, but otherwise it looked solid — like the Silver Moon had left a cave in the middle of the street for a bedraggled pack of dogs to curl up in.

“Come here!” Shep howled over the patter of rain on the trash.

The bus was jammed against a small stone building. Shep padded alongside the building, out of the rain, to give him a clearer scent of the area. His nose only registered the rain until he sniffed inside the bus. Then, a strong smell of dog and rot reached his nose.

Great Wolf, no …

Eyes sparkled in the darkness.
A wild dog?

“This is my den,” a girldog growled. “Get out or get fanged.”