Red Moon Rising

by Erin Hunter

  “Are you all right, pups?” she whined anxiously. “Have they hurt you?”

  “We’re fine, fine!” Thorn’s voice was muffled by the walls, but her bark sounded strong. “The longpaws shut us in here, but they haven’t harmed us yet!”

  Moon closed her eyes, looking shaky with relief. But she quickly opened them again. “How will we get them out?” she muttered to Lucky.

  Storm paced up and down, examining the walls of the den and sniffing at the metal. “We could try to break a hole in the wall? If we all ran at it together, we might get through.”

  Lucky shook his head. “No, that won’t work, Storm. But I know what to do.”

  He padded to a hatch in the wall, one with straight sides; there was some kind of silver-colored stick attached to it. Every dog watched, dumbfounded, as Lucky reared up on his hind legs again, stretching high. He scrabbled with his paws at the jutting silver thing, finally catching it.

  And he tugged.

  It clicked down easily, rotating on its end. As if the Sky-Dogs had run at it from the inside, the hatch swung wide open sideways, banging against the wall.

  Lucky jumped back, grinning, but Moon was already racing past him. Despite her injured paw, she sprang up into the den with a yelp of joy.

  Storm caught a glimpse of what was inside: Beetle and Thorn, straining toward their Mother-Dog, but held by ropes around their necks. There was barely time to register this new problem, though. An earsplitting shriek tore the air, a terrible wailing sound that no dog could have made. Every dog flinched and froze in terror, crouching low to the ground, but the deafening noise didn’t stop. On and on it went, an appalling howl that could scramble a dog’s brain.

  The headless loudcage was calling the longpaws!

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I want to run. I need to run. It was all Storm could think through the screeching sound that was battering her skull. She shut her eyes tightly and clenched her jaws.

  But I must not run!

  She forced herself to stay in her place, digging her claws into the ground, every muscle rigid and taut. I must not run! Beetle and Thorn are still tied up in there—they can’t run!

  Through the shrieking wail, something else was in her ears, a reassuring sound. Lucky’s voice.

  “Don’t be scared.” He was barking now, calm but insistent. “That sound can’t hurt you, and neither can the den-thing. It’s calling for its longpaws, that’s all. It’s what they do when you disturb them. Don’t panic.”

  Storm felt her heart begin to slow; she was able to think again, though her brain still hammered with the ongoing, wailing racket. Breeze too seemed less terror-struck, and Mickey looked wide-eyed but steady.

  “But it does mean the longpaws will come soon,” Lucky went on. “We need to get Beetle and Thorn out of here, and fast!” He leaped up into the den hatch, vanishing inside just as Moon had.

  It went against all Storm’s instincts to follow him in there, but she fought against them. Tensing every muscle, clenching her jaw till it hurt, she crouched and sprang up into the belly of the beast.

  It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness, but she quickly made out Beetle and Thorn. The two stood against the far wall, eagerly facing their rescuers, their tails quivering. Both dogs strained against the rope collars that fastened them to round metal hooks in the wall. Before them, on the ground, sat bowls of water and dry pieces of food that looked untouched. Moon stood by them, tugging helplessly on Thorn’s rope with her teeth.

  “Storm!” barked Beetle. “Lucky! You came!”

  “Breeze and Mickey!” yelped Thorn with joy.

  “We came, but we’ll have to be quick,” growled Lucky. “The longpaws are already on their way.”

  Thorn shook her head violently, snarling at the bite of the rope. “We tried to get loose, but these are too tight.”

  “I can’t do anything,” whined Moon. “They don’t yield to teeth.”

  “And we can’t break the ropes,” added Beetle in frustration. “They’re too strong.”

  “Backward,” barked Lucky sharply.

  Moon gave a snarl of belated realization. “Of course! Try that, my pups. You have to wriggle backward, like Lucky says.” She fastened her teeth around the loop of rope on Beetle’s neck. “Pull back now.”

  She lowered her hindquarters, straining hard with stiff forelegs as Beetle struggled and writhed. The rope slipped a little toward his jaw.

  “Pull harder!” Moon demanded, urgency overcoming the fear in her voice.

  Clenching his jaw, Beetle dragged his head backward, twisting and yanking. The rope moved slowly, jerkily, toward his ear. Moon gave a low growl and hauled harder on the collar, her paws slipping.

  Lucky was already doing the same thing for Thorn, his teeth sunk into the rope collar as she strained backward. As Storm turned anxiously to watch him, she heard a thump and a clatter. When she spun back, Moon was spitting out the rope collar, and Beetle was dancing in a circle, as well as he could in the small space. “You did it, Moon!”

  Lucky was still fighting with the rope on Thorn’s neck; Thorn’s eyes were wide and white-rimmed as she wrenched herself backward, claws scrabbling. Nervously Storm twisted to peer out of the door. “We have to hurry!” she growled.

  “What’s in the bowls?” Mickey was sniffing at the dry food. “It smells good—didn’t you want to eat?”

  Moon shot him a look of disbelief; Storm raised her brows. Beetle gave a yelp of disgust. “We don’t touch longpaw food!”

  Thorn gasped and snarled as she struggled. “Longpaws—killed—poisoned our—Father-Dog!”

  Mickey hesitated for a moment, then cocked an ear in the direction of the bowls. He gave them another sniff, then hunched his shoulders and began to wolf down the nuggets of food.

  Thorn’s rope snapped away, whipping her muzzle, and she staggered backward, shaking her head. At just that moment, through the hatch entrance, Storm saw two pairs of gleaming bright-white eyes, jolting across the ground toward them. They flooded the muddy ground with light.

  “Longpaws! They’re here!”

  All of the dogs spun toward the entry hatch. Mickey gulped down the last mouthful of food and growled. Then, at the same moment, they all sprang for the way out, bumping one another’s flanks as they hurried to escape.

  Storm emerged first from the chaos, her forepaws landing hard on the earth, and she bounded forward, leading the way toward the ragged hole in the fence. She could hear the pounding paws of the others as they ran behind her; we’re going to make it!

  Her ears twitched and swiveled as she ran. It was hard to count the pawsteps running behind her, but she didn’t dare pause to glance over her shoulder. The glowing eyes of the loudcages were bumping and weaving toward them, but the fence was nearly in reach.

  Then, horribly, she heard another sound: a hollow thud, and a yelp of distress.

  Storm skidded to a halt, her claws sending up a shower of loose earth. All her companions were still behind her, slowing in confusion—

  But not Breeze!

  Storm turned and raced back between her comrades. She saw the dark pool of shadow in the ground almost immediately: a deep hole that she—and they—had only avoided by blind luck. Storm crept to its edge. Breeze was a slightly paler shadow in the bottom of the pit, her eyes staring up at Storm in panic, the whites showing. The brown dog stood up on her hindpaws and scrabbled frantically at the earth walls.

  “Help me! Storm, help!”

  The rest of the party had turned back now and were gathered around Storm, yelping in dismay.

  “Hold on, Breeze,” Storm growled. “Don’t panic. It’s not too deep at all.” Just too deep for a dog Breeze’s size to climb out . . . “We’ll help you!”

  Taking a deep breath, trying not to think about the approaching loudcages and their increasing roar, Storm jumped down into the hole next to Breeze. She nuzzled the smaller dog’s neck, trying to reassure her panicking friend.

  �
�Keep calm. I’ll push you up.” Storm raised her head and barked to Lucky and Mickey, who were peering over the edge. “Be ready to pull her!”

  The two dogs crouched at the edge of the drop. Storm lowered her head and pushed at Breeze’s shaking hindquarters, shoving as hard as she could as Breeze clawed desperately at the sheer sides. Earth crumbled and Breeze whimpered, but gradually she was scrambling higher.

  “The longpaws,” came Thorn’s whimper from beyond the edge of the hole. “They’re nearly here!”

  “Hurry, hurry!” yelped Beetle.

  I will, thought Storm irritably, if you’ll all just shut up! Gritting her teeth, she heaved again, harder, jolting Breeze up another few worm-lengths. Breeze’s hindquarters were in her face, and her lashing tail almost blinded Storm.

  Then, abruptly, her weight was lifted away. Lucky had the brown dog by the scruff of her neck and was hauling hard, with Mickey’s help. Breeze was pulled up and away, and Storm heard her land with a soft thump on safe ground.

  Panting, turning a full circle, Storm glanced around the hole. There was no room for a running start; she would just have to spring for it.

  “Come on, Storm,” barked Lucky. “I’ll pull you up, too.”

  “Oh, hurry!” yelped Moon.

  Crouching, coiling herself tightly, Storm clenched her jaws. When every muscle was bunched tight, she pushed away with her hindquarters and sprang toward safety.

  Lucky bared his jaws and opened them, ready to catch her by the scruff, but his help wasn’t necessary. She was clear of the hole by a tail-length as she landed on all four paws.

  “Thank you, Storm,” panted Breeze, her sides heaving. “Thank you!”

  “Never mind that now—let’s go!” Storm bounded toward the fence but stood back as the others dived for the hole and scrabbled through. Moon was last, after her rescued pups, except for Lucky. He waited, nodding impatiently at Storm.

  “Go on, Storm! As Beta, I should take the rear.”

  There were barks from the longpaws now, and the screeching noise of loudcages drawing to a halt. As pounding longpaw feet ran toward the fence, Storm twisted and shoved herself through the hole in the wire.

  When she emerged on the other side she turned, looking desperately for Lucky, but he was already halfway through the gap. He hauled himself out, barking, “Run!”

  The longpaws were running now, too, but they were on the other side of the fence and they carried no loudsticks. Dizzy with relief, Storm spun and raced at her Beta’s flank, back toward the safety of their camp.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The pale golden, early light of the Sun-Dog glowed between the pine trunks as the dogs crashed through the undergrowth and back into the clearing. Panting, they all came to a halt as they blinked at Alpha. She was standing on all four paws, worry still etched on her face as her pups gamboled between her slender legs. Watching her eyes, Storm could tell she was counting the members of the rescue party, over and over again. At last Alpha nodded, her expression one of satisfaction and deep relief, and all her muscles seemed to relax. She sat back on her haunches.

  “You did it,” she said quietly. “Well done, all of you. And welcome back, Thorn and Beetle.” Her greeting to the two wanderers was tinged with the promise, Storm thought, of further stern words to come later. But for now, their Alpha was clearly too happy to have her Pack back together—whole; no dog lost.

  The rest of the Pack was gathering, yelping with delight. “What happened?” asked Daisy.

  “Where did you find them?” yapped Sunshine. “Oh, it’s so good to have you all back!”

  It was Moon who stepped forward, her stiff tail quivering, her eyes flashing with anger. “My pups—my offspring—decided it would be a clever idea to go to the place where the longpaws are building. They thought it showed intelligence to go and mess up that place, as some kind of ridiculous revenge.” The growl in her voice grew louder, more threatening. “And they did all this after I had told them to stay away from there—to stay away from all longpaws. And I apologize to the whole Pack on behalf of my stupid, irresponsible litter!”

  The Pack stood silent, shuffling and blinking in shock and slight embarrassment. It was so unlike Moon to criticize her pups, thought Storm—especially with such savage words. She must be really furious. It’s clear they terrified her with this escapade of theirs.

  “Moon! That’s not fair!” protested Beetle. “All we wanted to do was make the longpaws leave! We thought if we made a mess at their building-place, they’d go away!”

  “And we deserve revenge,” barked Thorn grumpily. “The longpaws killed our Father-Dog and they should pay.”

  “That is exactly my point, you foolish pups!” Moon turned on the pair of them. “They killed your Father-Dog, the strongest, smartest, best dog I ever knew. Fiery was the most powerful fighter our Pack ever had. What did you two think you could achieve? What was the point of putting yourselves in such needless danger? You’re still young! You don’t have the strength your Father-Dog had—and you’re certainly not as smart, judging by your antics today!”

  Thorn and Beetle stared moodily at the ground, their tails clamped to their haunches, their ears drooping. There was sullen resentment in their posture, but it was clear they were cowed by their Mother-Dog’s words.

  They know what they did was wrong, Storm thought. They may not ever admit it, but Moon’s made it pretty clear how stupid and reckless they’ve been. They know.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” said Alpha, her voice level. She seemed to have decided that for the moment at least, no more scolding was needed from her, after the tongue-lashing the two had had from Moon.

  “We just wanted to mess things up a bit,” mumbled Beetle. “But two longpaws caught us. They grabbed Thorn, and I was furious and I went to help her—but they were cunning and strong and they grabbed me too.”

  “That was always going to happen,” snapped Moon.

  Thorn tucked her ears back, looking ashamed. “And they tied us up, with rope around our necks so we couldn’t get away.”

  There were gasps from the Pack, especially from the dogs who had never been Leashed in their lives. “Tied you up?” barked Snap in horror.

  “Lucky knew what to do,” said Mickey, nodding respectfully at his Beta.

  “It wasn’t hard, once we knew where Beetle and Thorn were.” Lucky paced forward. “It was the kind of den I knew how to open. And ropes can be wriggled out of, if a dog has help and can keep its nerve. The worst part was getting away from there, once the den sounded the alarm and the longpaws came running.”

  “Yes.” Breeze nodded vigorously. “That was frightening. I fell into a hole while I was running, and Storm had to get me out.” She wagged her tail gratefully at Storm.

  Gradually the muttering and the shocked explanations died away, as Alpha remained silent. At last she stepped forward, waving her tail slowly and thoughtfully. Her face was stern.

  “I agree with Moon,” she told them all. She shot Beetle and Thorn a disapproving glance. “These two pups of hers ran willingly into a perilous situation, and by doing so they put the whole Pack in danger. And that danger has not gone away; what if the longpaws come looking for them now?”

  That did not seem to have occurred to Beetle and Thorn. They exchanged a look of dawning horror, and their heads hung low.

  There was movement at Alpha’s paws; the pups had abandoned their halfhearted game, clearly sensing the seriousness of the adult dogs around them. Storm could see Tiny, cowering behind her Mother-Dog’s legs, her eyes huge. The pups surely did not understand the gravity of the Pack’s situation, but she could tell they knew that the older dogs were on edge—nervous.

  It would be so tough on all the pups if we have to leave this camp now, she thought. And it would be especially hard on Tiny. She’s the most vulnerable of the four of them. . . . And they’d be even more vulnerable if we didn’t have a camp. . . .

  Alpha’s loud bark broke into her thoughts. She
glared at Thorn and Beetle. “You two were irresponsible and stupid to go to the longpaw place.”

  Neither of the litter-siblings said a word, but they crouched low, clearly knowing that their only choice was humble submission.

  “What’s more,” Alpha went on, “it was equally irresponsible and stupid for Storm and Mickey to conceal what they knew about your no-sun jaunts. All four of you will be punished.”

  Again, thought Storm, gloomily and rather resentfully. Always, I get punished. When I’m just trying to do the right thing . . .

  Alpha was still talking in that severe, disapproving voice; Storm wished that she would just get on with the punishment. “Mickey and Beetle will take High Watch together. When their watch is finished, Storm and Thorn can take over. You can all use the time to reflect on how irresponsible you are. And maybe, if you have older dogs close by, you won’t be so eager to run off and put the whole Pack at risk!”

  The earth between her claws was raw and moist . . . the stench of loudcages clung to her nose like a vicious claw. All around her was darkness, except for where those strange longpaw-lights shone down in pools of glaring whiteness. Strips of metal, pale planks of freshly cut wood, and shining longpaw tools lay all around, in heaps and stacks; she flinched away from them in fear. And there, right in her line of vision, was the metal den on wheels where Beetle and Thorn had been caged. It looked bigger and more intimidating than it had before, and the longpaw-lights bathed it in a sinister white glow.

  How can I be back at the longpaw camp? Storm wondered. Oh, Sky-Dogs, Alpha will be so furious with me. . . .

  With shaking paws, she trod toward the light of the den, feeling herself slip in the damp, turned mud. The hatch was there in the wall, with its silver lever; as Storm stared at it, she could hear the barks of the dogs imprisoned within. But they didn’t sound like Beetle and Thorn; the yelps were high-pitched and terrified, the squeaking cries of tiny helpless creatures. . . .

  It’s the pups! They’ve been captured!