“Welcome,” she said in halting English. “I’m Marcella. Thank you so much for coming with your dogs.” If she noticed Dusty at all, she didn’t reveal it. Luis could tell that she was drained. “We’re focusing our live searches on six different collapsed buildings within a four-block radius,” she said. Everyone understood that “blocks” was being used loosely, because the streets here were not aligned or square like they were in many towns and cities in the United States, and because it was no simple thing to walk from one place to another right now. Getting anywhere at all was a challenge.
“Luis and Dusty and Sabrina and Thor will be searching the town’s escuela primaria—the primary school. Thirty-six people are still unaccounted for there,” she said, reading from a paper on her clipboard. She went on to explain that twenty-eight hours had passed since the earthquake struck. “We’re looking for live victims,” she said soberly. There was still hope, but the clock was ticking.
Luis felt a full-on wave of panic as he listened to Marcella. Primary school. They would be searching the primary school. Both of his nieces—Alejandra and Valentina—were in primary school. But which one? He had no idea.
Dusty nosed Luis’s leg, and Luis managed to refocus on Marcella, reminding himself that she had important information he needed to hear.
“Right now the teams working the school have been on the job for over nine hours, and we plan to give them a break sometime after midnight.” She paused and looked Luis in the eye. “Are you ready?” Clearly she could sense his trepidation.
Dusty nosed Luis’s leg, more firmly this time, and then lifted himself onto his hind legs to balance his front paws on Luis’s knee. He could sense his handler’s anxiety, too. Luis smelled sour, like worry. But it wasn’t time for worry. It was time for work!
Luis thumbed the scar on Dusty’s ear and swallowed. He had to put his emotions aside. He had to think logically and be strong. He actually had no idea if his nieces were victims. And even if they were, there were many, many more, each of them a beloved member of somebody’s family. He looked around at the devastation just outside the tent walls. He had to focus on the big picture, on doing his job. There were people out there who needed their help, and helping was what he’d trained for.
Helping was the reason he and Dusty were here.
When Marcella departed, the San Antonio team tried to settle into their little space. Though it was tempting to dive in and get to work, they knew they had a specific job to do, and taking on anything extra would create disorganization and put their mission at risk. It was important to follow protocol and instructions given by the folks in charge.
“So dusty,” Sabrina murmured. “And I don’t mean the dog!” Indeed, everything was covered in a thick layer of debris dust, which they swept off the cots as best they could. Since Luis and Sabrina would be the first out, they each got a cot, and Laura and Paul shared the pallet on the ground.
Luis checked his phone one last time—nothing—and sent a final text to his brother to tell him where he was. They weren’t in his brother’s pueblo—he lived about five miles away in a smaller village. He hoped things were not as bad there.
Dusty turned a double circle and curled up next to Luis. He did his best to ignore the dust that was tickling his nose, burying it in the folds of Luis’s jacket. It only helped a little. Finally Luis put his phone in his pocket and his arm around Dusty. Dusty snuggled against him, and they both closed their eyes and tried to sleep, though it was basically impossible. The whole group was restless. There was the insidious dust and the smell of destruction. And the sounds! Dusty’s ears twitched constantly. Trucks rumbled. People shouted. Sirens wailed. Finally Dusty drifted off, but sleep provided no relief. He dreamed he was back to roaming the streets, alone, looking for food. His stomach twisted with hunger. Darkness hung heavily. Boots kicked cruelly. Headlights glared menacingly. The smell of burning rubber permeated everything.
Lying awake, Luis was glad Dusty was resting but recognized an uneasy sleep. As the minutes and hours ticked by, the din continued relentlessly, punctuated by siren wails. Luis’s trepidation grew. He wished that their first mission was simpler … less intense. Not so loaded. He also wished they weren’t paired with Sabrina and Thor. Though things had settled somewhat between the two, he felt more comfortable with Paul and Laura. Dusty whimpered in his sleep, and Luis stroked his back.
He hoped they were up for this.
Just as Luis finally began to doze, Marcella came to tell them it was time. Luis’s watch read three a.m. He was running on twenty-two hours with almost no sleep, a fact he tried to ignore. Doing something was certainly better than doing nothing, even if he had to do it running on fumes. He and Sabrina quickly gathered up their gear and followed Marcella and Laura out of the tent. The sky was dark and heavy with clouds, which reflected the headlights of the vehicles and tall generator-powered lights emergency crews had set up, casting a spooky glow on the already eerie scene. Luis knew a slight chance of rain was in the forecast, and that a light mist would keep the dust down but also make for slippery conditions.
It took half an hour to get to the school site, and the scene was chaotic. Frantic parents were huddled together near a fence line, waiting for news of their children. A traumatized man was screaming at the police. Luis could hear the cop telling the man it wasn’t safe for families to search—their job was to keep people safe. They were doing all they could. The best the families could do was stay back and wait. Luis felt for the man and also the cop. The situation was awful for everyone.
The team was introduced to the site leader, Eduardo. “Thank you all for coming,” Eduardo said. “We need the backup.”
“Happy to be here and ready to assist,” Sabrina said. Thor sat at her side, his eyes eager. If he could, he would have said the same thing.
“Right now we’re searching on the south side of the building, where several classrooms are, or were, located. They’ve found three children alive so far. With so many missing we suspect there are more.”
Luis struggled to focus as Eduardo spoke. He was dimly aware that nothing was being reported about casualties, though there must have been multiple. The two handlers and their German shepherds from a northern Mexico search and rescue team, the team that they’d be replacing, approached at a snail’s pace. To say they looked beleaguered was a drastic understatement. The men were filthy, their foreheads and cheeks stained with sweat beneath their helmets, but that was nothing compared to the fatigue that oozed from their sagging bodies. The dogs panted endlessly, and one of them was limping.
The shepherds towered over Dusty, who appeared smaller than ever next to the mountain of debris that had recently been a school. Dusty’s nose quivered at the smell of the dogs as he stood next to their massive shapes. His ears ached already from the wails and shouts and generator motors, and the humming lights that pierced the darkness like headlights in the sky.
For the first time in his life Dusty felt small.
“I’ve got to get Estrella to the medical tent,” the handler with the limping dog said. “I think she’s got something stuck between her pads.”
“Okay, let’s get her over there,” Eduardo said, nodding. “And hope it’s nothing more serious.”
Luis was giving himself a serious internal pep talk when, out of the blue, an aftershock rocked the area. A massive roar filled the air as the search area convulsed, sending debris shifting and sliding for several seconds amid human screams. The lights flickered, plunging everything into momentary darkness. Dusty shivered and barked. Luis held his breath. It lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. When it stopped everyone looked around, eyes wide with panic, to see what had changed. Nobody appeared hurt … or at least nobody new.
As the cries of the people began to fade Luis heard someone call his name. He turned, recognizing the voice.
“Paco!” he called as his little brother stepped into his arms. They embraced, holding each other tightly for several seconds. As t
hey pulled apart Luis spotted his brother’s wife, Marina.
“Your daughters?” Luis choked out. He couldn’t make himself form the sentence.
Paco’s eyes were wide with shock and horror but shifted to show that he still had gratitude for small mercies. “They’re safe,” he said, clasping his hands together. “They’re with their abuela, Marina’s mama. We came so we can help the other children.”
His eyes drifted to the mass of concrete and wood and brick and metal lit up by the spotlights. Neither of them said a word for a long moment, silently praying that they would be able to save the poor souls trapped in the twisted prison.
“That’s why we’re here, too.” Luis blinked back salty tears. “Dusty and I are about to get to work.”
Paco seemed to notice for the first time that his brother was dressed in rescue gear—that he was part of the rescue team. He looked down at Dusty, his eyes hopeful. He said nothing about his size.
Luis squeezed his brother’s arm one last time before turning back to Eduardo and the group.
Eduardo was listening to reports on his walkie-talkie and clearly making adjustments as a result of the aftershock. Luis listened in, suddenly keenly aware of how essential every bit of information was. His worries had disappeared, and he absorbed the communication like a sponge. He knew what he and Dusty were capable of. He couldn’t promise that they would find anyone alive, but he could promise that they’d use all of their strength and skill to try.
It was all anyone could do.
While the team waited for Eduardo to give final instructions, Luis strapped his helmet, and then his headlamp, onto his head. Dusty wouldn’t wear a light, or a vest—it was too dangerous given the tight spaces he’d be going into. But it was required for the humans.
Luis tightened the straps on his own vest and crouched down next to Dusty, who was shivering slightly in the lights. Pulling the booties out of his pocket, he slipped them onto Dusty’s feet. When they were secure, he lifted the Chihuahua’s chin and looked him in the eye.
“It’s time, Dusty,” he said. “This is what we’ve been training for. And I want you to know that there isn’t a doubt about you—or us—in my mind, little dude. Podemos hacerlo,” he said. We can do this.
Dusty steadied himself and raised his chin in agreement. “Yip!” he said. Yes! Yes we can!
Luis nodded and strapped on Dusty’s doggles. Dusty looked around, adjusting to the lenses.
“Okay, it’s time,” Eduardo reported. “Everyone ready?”
“Yip!” Dusty replied.
Luis straightened and turned on his headlamp, while Sabrina did the same. The handlers hugged briefly for good luck. They both knew they’d need it.
“Ready,” they said in unison.
Sabrina and Thor, with his long, powerful legs, were first to set foot on the collapsed structure. Thor angled right and climbed a solid-looking section of sloping concrete flooring.
Luis and Dusty had been instructed to go left, and aim lower. Luis paused to evaluate the area Eduardo had told them to search, remembering something Roxanne told him weeks ago. Dusty was different, and should search differently. Behaving and searching like a typically sized rescue dog wouldn’t highlight his skills, or serve anyone. It could even be dangerous.
Luis’s eyes scanned the crumbled building, trying to hone in on areas with smaller spaces between the rebar and concrete, moving slowly and carefully along the edge. Dusty got it right away and moved in front, his nose high. He was zeroing in on something else—smells. And one smell in particular: live human.
He approached the mountain of rubble and leaped lightly onto a teetering beam that spanned a crevasse, gingerly making his way across. Once he was safely on the other side, he hopped over a pipe and walked along a chunk of rebar-enforced flooring. Luis followed as closely as he could, but was soon halted. At 195 pounds he weighed more than twenty times his partner’s weight, and his heaviness caused the unsteady terrain beneath him to shift almost immediately. Dusty stopped and turned back, clearly looking for permission. He knew it was his job to forge ahead but couldn’t do it without the okay. He locked eyes with Luis, and Luis nodded at him. And then came the words Dusty needed, and loved, to hear: “Go search!”
Dusty kept moving, sniffing his way over and around massive piles of splintered wood, rebar, pipes, and concrete, while Luis stuck to a lower edge and kept his partner in sight as best he could. Every once in a while Luis spotted a piece of broken furniture from a classroom—a desk top, a broken chair, and even a giant, unbroken chalkboard. It was too much to think about … classrooms full of children just forty-eight hours ago, now reduced to this.
Finally Luis found another, sturdier way up the rubble pile and climbed, grateful for every moment of agility practice he’d put in on the Sterling ranch. Once he was a little higher he could see Dusty, about twenty yards away, sniffing intently at a tiny crack in a broken wall.
The wall, Luis noticed immediately, was tilted at a crazy angle. He could never get up there safely, and neither could a full-sized dog. But Dusty weighed almost nothing, so he could. Luis could see Dusty’s nose quivering. He hoped he smelled something!
Dusty’s nose had taken on a life of its own. The bothersome dust was barely a thing anymore … he smelled something else! The opening here was small—even for him—but he knew for certain that there were people down there. Maybe even live people.
He raised his head, his ears twitching, his eyes finding Luis. Dawn was approaching, but it was still dim. Even under the emergency lights he couldn’t see his partner clearly … mostly his shadow and his body language. It was enough. Dusty could tell that Luis was urging him on just from his posture. His giant ears rotated slightly, waiting for the words.
“Good boy, Dusty,” Luis called. “Go search!”
Dusty felt energy surge up his spine. He gazed into the narrow tunnel, blinking behind his doggles. His nose quivered. Stepping forward, he squeezed his body inside.
The weak predawn light disappeared as Dusty made his way into the wreckage, leaving him in almost total darkness. The passage was narrow, too narrow for a person or any other dog. The tiny Chihuahua had only a few inches of clearance on either side as he inched forward. He placed each paw carefully, testing to make sure the ground beneath him was solid. The way the ground had recently trembled and grumbled and growled like an angry beast had been frightening. Some things weren’t supposed to move—like the earth under your paws. He’d never felt anything like it before, and hoped he never would again.
Pausing, Dusty inhaled and confirmed that he could still smell what had caught his attention on the surface. It was a slightly stale scent but unmistakable and one of his favorites. He smelled children. He tried to ignore the other scents that entered his sensitive snout along with the smell of people … smells like blood and fear.
The darkness made him uncomfortable. The feeling sat along his spine like a coiled spring, making him anxious to move faster. Only months and months of training to slow down—and reassurances from Roxanne and Luis—kept the feeling from making him rush forward. Instead he continued slowly and carefully down a long, straight path just wide enough for him to balance on. It was a long piece of debris from the collapse, perhaps a beam that had crashed down. He moved with intention, the way he had been trained. It took every ounce of self-control in his little Chihuahua frame. Holding still, he sniffed again. He did not want to waste a single step in this strange cave of devastation. He was here to find, to find and to get out.
After a few more steps, Dusty’s ears brushed the top of the narrowing passage. He shrunk down and willed himself to be even smaller. Without enough space to turn around, all he could do was go forward. The rough edges of broken concrete and sharp steel scraped at his sides. Still he wriggled onward, stretching out his paws and pulling himself along. The only consolation in the close dark was the smell still drifting up the constricting path—it was getting stronger!
Dusty resisted the urge to
bark. He hadn’t reached his target. He extended his paws and felt something blocking the way ahead. He pushed with his back feet, trying to propel himself forward. His toes caught in thin wires snaking out of the broken walls. He yanked his foot, but the tangled wires tightened and dug in. He stifled a yelp. He wanted out of this claustrophobic space! He wanted to be on the pillow beside Luis, or in Shelby’s lap, or curled up with his siblings beside his warm mama!
Dusty stopped. He breathed in. He smelled the scent of children again, stronger now, and let it soothe him. He also smelled something else … a faint whisper of fresher air.
Then very carefully, almost without moving, Dusty wriggled his back paw until it came loose. He was free. He could keep going, and he would. The black tip of Dusty’s nose quivered. He was close. So close.
Moving to one side, just slightly, Dusty was able to get himself to a spot where the passage widened slightly and he could walk again. The beam he’d been following ended abruptly, and the space grew larger still, though it was just as dark. He fought the urge to race forward. Carefully, carefully, he continued.
His eyes were wide in the darkness, desperate for a hint of light. At last he saw a glimmer. Tiny shafts of weak sunlight were finding their way to him. He stepped around a corner, and the smell of kids and fresher air grew stronger. There! In the dim gloom he could make out the shapes of three humans—three children—slumped against a steeply leaning column and surrounded by concrete and pieces of broken furniture.
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