“We have to do something!” Ashley said.
The cop sighed. “Why don’t you stay with us and let your dad and brother go to animal control?”
“I want to go,” Ashley said.
“You can’t have it both ways, little lady.”
I knew Ashley hated it when people called her names like that.
Just then the vet’s car came sliding up, our answer to everything. As she jogged to the trailer Ashley got her to agree to stay with the sheriff and his prisoner until the matron got there and even to help round up the other alpacas.
The sheriff handed Sam his card and said, “Give them this and tell them I said to hold off until I can get there. Go!”
Ashley and I ran to the truck, and Sam shot down Dead Man’s Pass as fast as any human had ever dared.
I punched Redial for animal control, just in case, but the recording came on again.
“How long will it take us?” Ashley said as Sam skidded onto the I-25 ramp.
“Depends on traffic. Twenty, maybe 25 minutes.”
“It’s 8:46,” I said, a tremble in my voice.
Chapter 97
I felt the seconds rush by like a stream over rocks. In The Wizard of Oz Dorothy watched the sand slip through the hourglass, waiting for the witch to end her life. I always wanted Dorothy to turn the glass over and fool the witch. But there was no way to fool the clock now.
“If only we’d found those alpacas sooner,” I said.
“You’re lucky you found them at all,” Sam said.
“No, this was not luck,” I said, really trying to believe it. “I think it was God.”
“Please, God,” Bryce whispered, “don’t let them do anything to Buck.”
We passed exit after exit, until finally we saw the Air Force Academy on our right. The chapel, with its tall spires. The football field with Air Force printed on the stands. Parachutes opened to our right. I usually watch in awe as jumpers float to the ground, but now I focused on the road.
Bryce looked at me. “8:59,” he said.
“Can’t we go faster?” I said.
Sam hit the brakes as we ran up on cars slowing in the left lane. “Going as fast as I can.”
I imagined a long needle in Buck’s neck.
Chapter 98
I dialed the animal shelter as soon as my watch clicked 9:00 and slammed my fist against the dashboard when I got the recording again.
“Hang on,” Sam said as he careened off the interstate.
“Please, God,” Ashley whispered.
“There it is!” I yelled, pointing to the sign above the building. Sam drove onto the sidewalk, through a patch of grass, over a concrete curb that circled the parking lot, and slid to a stop.
Ashley and I leaped out and hit the front door, racing inside. The clock said 9:06.
Two people stood waiting at the front desk—a man holding a small dog and a woman with an ancient poodle on a leash.
No one was behind the counter.
Ashley hit a small bell several times. When a woman came around the corner Ashley said, “We’re here about the big white dog—you have to stop them.”
The poodle made a puddle.
“You’ll need to wait your turn,” the woman said, then turned to the man with the dog.
“Please,” Ashley said. “They’re going to put a dog down, but he didn’t do anything.”
“It’s all right,” the man said. “You can go ahead.”
But the worker behind the counter just glared at us.
“A white dog was brought in for attacking someone, but he didn’t do it and we have proof. The sheriff—”
“They’ve already started on that dog,” the woman said.
“No!” Ashley screamed.
“If you don’t calm down—”
“What room are they in?” Sam’s voice boomed behind us.
“Operating room one,” she said. “But—”
I ran past the counter and burst through a door marked Employees Only that led to a hall with closed doors on both sides.
The woman from the desk was right behind me as I flew down the hall, looking for room one.
“Buck!” I shouted. “Buck, we’re here!” I prayed I’d hear him bark.
At the end of the hall I found room one and threw the door open. A man wearing a light blue smock and holding a long needle looked up. Buck lay still on a metal table, eyes closed.
“No,” I breathed. “Buck, no!”
The woman grabbed my arm and pulled me back, but I wrenched free as Ashley and Sam caught up.
“The sheriff sent us,” I said. “Have you already—?”
“No, I just gave him a relaxant to make it easier for him. He’s been so friendly and gentle.”
“He’s not dead?” I said.
“Just sleeping,” the man said. “He won’t feel a thing.” He gestured with the syringe. “This is the lethal dose. You got here just in time. If I hadn’t stopped at Tasty Kreme, I’d be done already.”
Sam showed the vet the sheriff’s card and explained what he had said. He set the syringe aside and wheeled Buck into a large cage. “He’ll sleep a long time,” he said. “But he’ll be fine.”
Ashley went and stroked Buck’s fur. “It’s okay now, boy. You’re going home soon.”
Chapter 99
We drove straight from the shelter to Mrs. Watson’s house. Peanuts barked when Bryce knocked, and it took Mrs. Watson quite a while to get there. She seemed tired.
“Well, why is everybody smiling?” she said. “Looks like a party.”
“It is,” Bryce said. “Lots to celebrate.”
He showed her the brooch, coins, and other jewelry that had been stolen. “Recognize them?”
Mrs. Watson’s mouth fell open as she examined the valuables. “Where in the world . . . ?”
I told her in one long run-on sentence, but I could tell she got lost somewhere between Buck getting taken away and finding Janice at the cabin.
“Little Jan,” she said. “So sweet. Who’d have guessed?”
Bryce dug in his pocket. “There’s one more.”
Mrs. Watson held the wedding ring like it was worth a million dollars, even though it was probably the least expensive piece that had been stolen. It dazzled in the morning light.
A tear leaked down her wrinkled face, and life seemed to spring into her eyes. She clutched the ring to her chest, her lip quivering. “How can I ever thank you?”
Bryce and I didn’t need any more reward than the look on her face.
Chapter 100
Mom said she could never have made up a story that suspenseful.
“You think God made the animal-control guy stop at the donut place?” Ashley said.
“Oh, please,” Leigh said, sitting at the table eating breakfast.
“Whether it was God or just his stomach,” Mom said, “the point is Buck is safe.”
We learned later that Eddie was charged with burglary and that most of the stolen items were found in the cabin. The sheriff told Sam that Janice was cooperating and that he’d see what they could do for her.
We met the vet at the Morris farm that evening. She had gotten the other alpacas in the trailer and driven them home. The baby was already up and walking, and Whitney looked protective but much calmer.
“These animals owe their lives to you two,” the vet said. “They were close to dehydrated. It wouldn’t have been long.”
Ashley gave her devotion at the youth group that Wednesday night. Everybody liked the baby alpaca story best.
We saw Liz and Denise in town the next day at the Toot Toot Café, but they pretended not to see us.
Ashley shrugged. “I would have expected more from Denise, but when she gets around Liz . . .”
“You still quitting band?” I said.
“Nope,” Ashley said. “I’ve decided I’m not going to let them determine what I do and don’t do. I may even practice over the summer.”
Chapter 101
&nbs
p; Two days later the Morris family was home and Buck was back in the field, running and barking. The alpacas were doing well, especially Whitney.
Mr. Morris led us into the field where the new baby was running and nipping at grass. She was mostly white with a little black spot on the back of her head.
“What are you going to call her?” Bryce asked.
“Usually we try to come up with something that happened at the time of the cria’s birth to help us name it. Snowbank was born during a huge storm last year. Straight A came the day we gave our oldest son his first report card. So, we thought we’d call this one . . .” He looked at us with eyebrows raised.
“What?” I said.
“We were thinking Rescue, but I suppose you two can name her whatever you like.”
“Us?” I said.
“Yeah. My wife and I were going to give you and Bryce $20 a day each, but the more we talked about it, the more we realized Rescue wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you. So, instead of paying you, we’d like to give her to you.”
I couldn’t breathe. Our own alpaca!
Rescue toddled up to Bryce and sniffed his shoe. I put out my hand, and she let me pet her. Whitney walked up humming. It almost sounded like “Amazing Grace.”
And that’s what we changed her name to.
About the Authors
Jerry B. Jenkins (jerryjenkins.com) is the writer of the Left Behind series. He owns the Jerry B. Jenkins Christian Writers Guild, an organization dedicated to mentoring aspiring authors. Former vice president for publishing for the Moody Bible Institute of Chicago, he also served many years as editor of Moody magazine and is now Moody’s writer-at-large.
His writing has appeared in publications as varied as Reader’s Digest, Parade, Guideposts, in-flight magazines, and dozens of other periodicals. Jenkins’s biographies include books with Billy Graham, Hank Aaron, Bill Gaither, Luis Palau, Walter Payton, Orel Hershiser, and Nolan Ryan, among many others. His books appear regularly on the New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and Publishers Weekly best seller lists.
Jerry is also the writer of the nationally syndicated sports story comic strip Gil Thorp, distributed to newspapers across the United States by Tribune Media Services.
Jerry and his wife, Dianna, live in Colorado and have three grown sons and three grandchildren.
Chris Fabry is a writer and broadcaster who lives in Colorado. He has written more than 40 books, including collaboration on the Left Behind: The Kids series.
You may have heard his voice on Focus on the Family, Moody Broadcasting, or Love Worth Finding. He has also written for Adventures in Odyssey and Radio Theatre.
Chris is a graduate of the W. Page Pitt School of Journalism at Marshall University in Huntington, West Virginia. He and his wife, Andrea, have been married 22 years and have nine children, two birds, two dogs, and one cat.
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