Good Dog

by Dan Gemeinhart

  He looked the other way. It was darker that way. Some of the houses looked empty, lifeless. A few of the lots between the houses were vacant, with weeds and litter poking up through the snow.

  “This way,” he said, starting toward the darker houses. “He’s this way.”

  They trotted up the sidewalk, their paws making no sound on the icy pavement. Brodie looked at the houses as they passed, searching for something familiar.

  “Are we close?” Tuck asked, padding along cheerfully at his side.

  “Kind of. I think. Maybe.”

  “Oh. Good, I guess.”

  The houses got more and more run-down as they traveled. There were fewer Christmas lights. Some of the fences were falling down, their paint peeling. Dark porches were cluttered with piles of junk. The sound of an angry voice wafted out of a half-open door.

  Ahead, a streetlight flickered. A person leaned against the light post, bundled up in a thick coat. A sharp smell hit Brodie’s nose. A familiar smell. Cigarette. He knew that smell. It was all tied up with Aiden, with the house that he was looking for.

  As they got closer to the man, Tuck suddenly picked up his pace and got to wagging. Brodie looked up and saw why. The smoking man had a dog, tied to a leash, sitting on the sidewalk next to him.

  Tuck barked, a friendly hello kind of bark, but the other dog ignored him. He barked again, but the other dog didn’t even twitch an ear.

  They got to the corner and Tuck ran right up to that other dog, sniffing and wagging his tail, but that dog did nothing.

  Tuck barked. He growled. He whined.

  “Hey!” he shouted.

  Nothing.

  “What’s wrong with this guy?”

  “Tuck, I don’t think …”

  But before Brodie could finish, Tuck jumped forward to nudge the dog with his nose.

  But Tuck didn’t nudge him. He didn’t even touch him. His nose went right through the dog like he wasn’t even there, and then Tuck stood there with his whole head stuck inside that other dog.

  He pulled it out real quick and stumbled away, his tail between his legs.

  Finally, the other dog responded. He shook his head like a fly was in his ear and whined and looked around. But he looked right past Tuck and Brodie. Or, really, right through them. Brodie saw the dog’s eyes look right at him and there was nothing there, not a flicker of understanding.

  “What just happened?” Tuck asked, backing away, his fur up and his eyes on the dog.

  “The angel warned us, Tuck. We’re spirits now, remember? He can’t see us. Or hear us.”

  Brodie stepped right up to that dog so close that their noses were a whisker’s length apart. He barked. Then he looked up at the man, who was puffing his cigarette and looking at something in his hand (phone, his mind said), his face bored and tired. “People can’t, either, I guess.”

  Tuck crept closer, close enough to sniff at the dog.

  “Weird,” he said. He stretched a paw forward and timidly stuck it into the dog. It passed right through him. Tuck’s tail started to wag again. He lunged forward and stuck his head into the dog, then jumped back. Besides another shiver, the other dog didn’t move. Tuck’s tail wagged harder. He stuck his head farther in and kept it there for a moment, then jerked it out again. “This is crazy!”

  Then his tail stopped wagging and his ears went down.

  “Wait,” he said. “If we can’t touch stuff … do you think that means we can’t eat?” His voice was deadly serious.

  “Who cares?”

  “Who cares?! Are you kidding? Did you even hear my question?”

  “Um … we’re dead, Tuck. Who cares if we can eat?”

  Tuck turned an angry circle.

  “Come on, buddy! Getting the chance to eat again was half the reason I came back in the first place.”

  “I thought you came back to help me,” Brodie pointed out. “And to … move on to Forever.”

  “Oh, yeah, sure,” Tuck said quickly, looking away. “That stuff, too. Mostly. But come on, buddy … eating?”

  “Yeah. I know. It’s your second favorite thing in the world. But we’ve got bigger stuff to deal with than your appetite. Let’s go.”

  Brodie started off again and Tuck reluctantly followed, leaving the smoking man and his dog behind as they continued across the street to the next block.

  They passed a woman walking the other way and Tuck barked at her and jumped right through her, wagging his tail. He passed through her like she was nothing but a cloud. She kept walking, but pulled her ratty jacket tighter around her shoulders.

  “This is amazing!” he said, dancing in a circle. “You gotta try it, buddy!”

  “Maybe later,” Brodie said, not slowing down. “We’re getting close. I can feel it.”

  They came to the end of another block. The streetlight there was broken, leaving the corner in darkness. Brodie looked one way, then the other. The street was quiet. It was all parked cars and closed doors and city-stained snow. The breeze brought a faint parade of smells to his nose.

  “This is it!” he said, his tail going to full rump-swinging wag. “This is the street. This is where we …” The words stuck in his throat, and he started over. “This is where he lives. Right down there. I’m sure of it.”

  “Yeah? All right! Let’s go find your boy, then, and … hey, look at those mutts.” Brodie looked to where Tuck was looking, up the street in the direction that they’d been walking. A group of dogs, four of them, were lying around on the sidewalk under a streetlight, half a block ahead. “Wanna go stick our heads in ’em?”

  “Nah, Tuck, come on. We’re so close!”

  “All right, all right. No time for fun. Got it, buddy.”

  He was still standing facing the distant dogs.

  “You mutts are lucky!” he shouted in their direction, then barked. One loud, cheerful bark.

  And those dogs? Those dogs down there who shouldn’t have been able to see them or hear them?

  Well, when Tuck barked, something crazy happened.

  All their heads, all four of those dogs’ heads, snapped up to look.

  Brodie didn’t know why, but when those dogs turned their heads toward him, his skin went ice-cold and his tail lost any wag that it had.

  The four dogs stood up, one by one. They cocked their heads at Brodie and Tuck.

  Then, one by one, their tails started wagging.

  There are lots of kinds of tail-wagging. And when those dogs started wagging their tails, Brodie’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t the nice kind of wagging. Not at all. It was the kind of wag that a tail does when a dog sees a squirrel on the ground, too far from a tree.

  “Hey!” Tuck said brightly. He didn’t sound near as anxious as Brodie felt. “Did they hear me? Can they see us?” He barked again, a friendly greeting.

  The four dogs started trotting down the sidewalk toward Brodie and Tuck.

  “I don’t like this, Tuck,” Brodie said uneasily, backing up. “I don’t like the look of them.”

  “What are you worried about?” he asked, wagging his tail and taking a few happy steps toward them. They were almost upon them.

  The dogs were led by a big golden dog, long-haired and burly shouldered. His mouth was open in a sharp-toothed, eager grin.

  “Come on, Tuck, let’s … ,” Brodie started to say. But it was too late.

  Before they could run, the dogs were there. And before Brodie knew what was happening, they were circled around them.

  “Hey there, fellas,” the big one said. His voice was rough and low and crunchy like truck tires through wet gravel. Brodie blinked, looking hard at the dog’s eyes, trying to figure out why they were freaking him out. Then he realized: They didn’t have any whites. His eyes were all black … pure, shiny black, glittering above his bone-white teeth. Brodie looked around. All of their eyes were like that. Whiteless. Cold.

  “Hey,” Tuck said, turning a nervous circle to see them all. For the first time his voice sounded unsure, and
his fur was starting to rise. Brodie’s was already up.

  “You, uh, a golden retriever, right?” Tuck asked the leader. “You papered?”

  The big dog ignored the question. He stepped closer and the others followed.

  “Look at all that glow,” the leader said, and his tongue slopped at his lips.

  “So much glow!” one of the others said, stepping in closer.

  “Oh, man, all that sparkly!” another one hissed, sniffing at them and pawing at the ground.

  “You must be brand-new, huh?” the big one asked. He stepped in closer, too, tightening the circle. “Like, fresh from the other side, right?”

  “Who are you?” Brodie asked, turning his head, trying to keep them all in his sight.

  “Don’t worry about it, freshy,” he answered, his eyes still on the lights floating around Brodie and Tuck. “You can call me Darkly if you wanna call me something, but, uh …” He licked his lips and Brodie saw his own soul reflecting in the blackness of the dog’s hungry eyes. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I was you.”

  “Okay, but, like, who are you? I mean … why can you see us?” Tuck asked, more fur now rising on his back.

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Darkly answered. He sidestepped, circling them, and the rest of the dogs did, too. Brodie spun uneasily, keeping Darkly in front of himself. “You guys, with all your little twinkling lights, you’re good dogs, right?”

  Brodie and Tuck, still moving to try and keep an eye on the dogs, didn’t answer.

  “Well,” Darkly went on, finally coming to a stop. He lowered his head and looked up at Brodie. “We’re the bad dogs.”

  “What do you want?” Brodie asked, turning quickly to lift his lip at one of the other dogs, who had crept too close to his rear.

  “Oh, nothing much,” he said, a tease in his voice. “Just a little … snack.”

  One of the other dogs, a little spotted one, darted in suddenly, snapping his quick teeth at Tuck’s haunches. Tuck spun, snarling, and backed him up.

  “Back off, Thump,” the leader growled. “I get first taste. You know that.”

  “Aw, come on, Darkly, there’s plenty! Look at all their—”

  “I said back off!” Darkly snarled, and Thump did. Quick.

  “Leave us alone,” Tuck warned, and his voice was harder than Brodie had ever heard it.

  Darkly moved in closer, his head low, his black eyes on Tuck.

  “No,” he said, and his voice was a hungry growl.

  And then he lunged.

  All that furry muscle tightened up and then surged forward, right toward Tuck.

  Tuck stumbled backward, his teeth flashing, and Brodie leapt forward to help.

  It seemed to be exactly what Darkly had been expecting.

  In one snakelike motion he swung toward Brodie, catching him off-balance and off guard.

  His powerful legs shot his meaty body like a bullet at Brodie, jaws first.

  Brodie tried to backpedal, but Darkly was too fast and Brodie’s paws slid on the pavement.

  Darkly’s teeth sank into his shoulder.

  No.

  His teeth sank into … him.

  It was like nothing he’d ever felt.

  His teeth sank deep, and a high, ripping whimper was torn from Brodie’s throat. But it didn’t feel like pain, this bite. It felt far worse than pain.

  It felt like every good thing ever was gone forever. It felt like every last ray of sunlight was lost to shadow. It felt like every laugh from his boy’s mouth was turned to sobs. It felt like his tail would never, could never, wag again. New words came into his mind like hard slaps: Despair. Hopelessness. Misery.

  Brodie didn’t have a body anymore. He didn’t have a body that could hurt.

  But he had a spirit. He had a soul. Oh, yes. And that evil dog sank his teeth right into it. And took a piece.

  He sank his teeth in even deeper and shook his mighty neck, rattling Brodie’s whole body. A miserable howl moaned from his mouth.

  Then Darkly let go.

  He stepped back, his tail wagging, his black eyes aglow. Around him circled two little golden lights. Lights that hadn’t been there a moment before.

  Brodie knew without being told that they were his. That dog had taken a bit of his soul.

  Darkly licked his lips, and his great body quivered.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “That was good. You got so much in you still, freshy. So much good stuff.”

  Brodie was still panting from the agony of what had been taken from him. He looked for Tuck. He was on the ground, fighting and struggling but being held down by the other three dogs.

  “Leave him alone!” Tuck cried, snapping at his attackers but getting only air.

  “Is it our turn, Darkly? Huh?” asked one of the dogs holding down Tuck. “Can we take some?” It was a medium-sized dog, black with a brown chest, with a short-docked tail and stiff upright triangle ears.

  “Not yet, Smoker,” Darkly answered, and his voice was dreamy. “I gotta get mine first.” His eyes rolled back and he howled, a triumphant, satisfied howl. “Oh, it feels so good.”

  He lifted his nose toward the sky and closed his eyes. He was savoring the taste of Brodie’s soul. He turned a slow circle, licking his lips, his eyes still closed.

  At the same time, Brodie saw one of the dogs holding Tuck slip off him, snarling at Thump, who had lowered his bared teeth toward Tuck, hoping to sneak a bite.

  “He said to wait!” the dog snapped, and Thump backed off, lips raised in a greedy show of teeth.

  Brodie saw their chance.

  And he ran.

  Not away from the dogs. Toward them.

  With the two dogs glaring at each other, only one dog was left on Tuck. Brodie barreled into him with everything he had, lowering his shoulder and ramming him with so much force that he flew through the air and rolled when he hit the ground.

  Tuck popped up, teeth ready. But the numbers were not in their favor for a fight.

  “Run!” Brodie shouted.

  You never had to ask Tuck to run twice.

  They ran.

  “Get ’em!” Darkly howled.

  Brodie started in the lead but Tuck was beside him in no time, and then past him, his legs stretching and feet flying. Man, that dog could run.

  The houses blurred as they ran; then the houses gave way to vacant lots and dark warehouses and empty parking lots. They were out of the area where people lived. There were shadows here, and broken windows, and piles of snow-draped garbage.

  Aiden! Brodie thought frantically. They were getting farther and farther away from him. If they went too far, he might not be able to find him again. A word flashed in his mind: lost. It was a bad word. It was something he didn’t want to be. His feet slowed, doubt slowing his strides. But then he heard running paws too close behind him, felt a mouth snap at his tail and barely miss. He remembered the feeling of Darkly’s teeth tearing into his soul. And then he ran hard, harder than he ever had before, hard enough to leave, for a while, his doubt behind.

  He looked back. Their pursuers were still there, charging after them, determined. But Tuck and Brodie were faster. Tuck especially. They’d given themselves a big lead, almost half a block. But the dark-eyed dogs weren’t giving up.

  A brick building flashed beside them, full of boarded-up windows. A corner was just ahead.

  “Turn here!” Brodie shouted. “Go around the corner!” He didn’t want to get any farther from Aiden than he had to.

  Tuck reached the corner and took it tight, almost slipping but keeping his feet under him and rocketing off like lightning in their new direction. Brodie did his best to follow. He wasn’t as graceful as Tuck, maybe, or as quick, but he made it.

  Once he got up to top speed he looked back, checking to see if the dogs had made it around the corner yet.

  But he couldn’t see them. Had they stopped chasing?

  He almost started to slow down.

  We just need to lose these dogs, he though
t, his legs churning, and then we can—

  WHAM!

  Something slammed into his hind legs from the side, knocking him off his feet. He tumbled and rolled and then skidded to a halt.

  It didn’t hurt—not having an actual body can be a good thing, sometimes—but he had to shake his head to clear his thoughts.

  Just in time, he saw the dog coming at him. It was Thump, the little spotted one. Somehow he’d caught up to him. He was coming at Brodie again, teeth bared in an ugly snarl.

  Just as Brodie jumped to his feet to fight him off, the other three appeared. They came charging right out of the wall of the building next to him, their soulless eyes and flashing teeth and running legs flying right through the bricks like they weren’t there.

  Brodie didn’t even have time to process what he’d just seen.

  The two smaller ones slowed as they saw him, spreading out to cut off his escape. But Darkly didn’t miss a step. He thundered right at Brodie, hungry mouth open wide for a bite. When he was a few paces away he leapt with all four paws, flying like a nightmare at Brodie’s throat. There was no time to run. Nowhere to hide. No way to stop him.

  Brodie flinched, bracing for the impact.

  It never came.

  Instead, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black blur rocket out of nowhere, shooting right past him. The blur collided with Darkly’s ribs in midair, deflecting the big dog and sending him rolling into two of his cronies.

  The blur, of course, was Tuck. Tuck had come back for him.

  Because Tuck? He was exactly the kind of dog who will always come back for his friends, no matter how black-eyed the beast that chases them.

  He shot out of the night like a cannonball and saved Brodie from Darkly’s soul-snatching teeth. Well, for a second, anyway.

  Tuck barely slowed down. He stumbled sideways for a few steps, recovering from his collision with Darkly, but he never stopped moving. He spun around and surged away again in the direction they’d been running.