by Erin Hunter
Lucky opened his jaws and closed them again, surprised. How can any dog not know what the Big Growl was?
Then he realized—of course, Lick was born after it! The thought struck him with force, but he found it to be a cheering notion. One day the Big Growl would be entirely in the past, and no dog on Earth would have actually lived through it. All the time, pups were being born, and surviving—Lick was proof of that. The Big Growl wasn’t the end of the world. Not yet.
“It was the worst of days, Lick. A day when the world shook and the city fell and the longpaws ran far away. Even the Earth-Dog trembled that day. Many dogs died.”
“Oh.” Lick shivered. “I’m glad I didn’t see it.”
Lucky touched her muzzle with his own. “So am I, Lick.”
Lucky gazed back out of the cave mouth toward the streambed. He could hear the river they were heading for, and the rush and roar of it in the valley ahead. It was flowing fast, sounding furious and urgent. It was as if it was determined to get somewhere, somewhere the River-Dog had commanded.
And where that river led, the Pack would follow. Just as soon as this dangerous rain ended.
CHAPTER SIX
Half of the Pack was dozing on the sandy cave floor when Lucky lifted his head and pricked his ears. It wasn’t noise that had alerted him, but the absence of it. The roar of torrential downpour had been replaced by a steady, ominous dripping.
Alpha and Sweet sat at the cave mouth, staring out, and Lucky padded over to join them. Sure enough, the rain had stopped, leaving a maze of rivulets and puddles; the dry bed had become a web of real streams, flowing between the stones down toward the river.
Alpha gave Lucky a glance, then turned back to look at the sodden valley. The dog-wolf looked nervous. “This rain will have washed away all scents,” he muttered. “It could be a chance to throw off the Fierce Dogs—or a chance for them to catch us unawares. We’ll have to be alert. Beta, tell the Patrol Dogs. Lucky, since you’re here, get every dog moving.”
Paw pads had been rested, breath caught, and despite their hunger, most of the Pack was eager to get going. The air seemed to reek of nervous expectation as they set off into the valley, following the path of the sparkling new stream. The dogs heard the river before they saw it, and when they crested a crumbling ridge, there it lay: angry and fast and frothing. Out in the middle, the water was churned white around cruel, jutting rocks. Yellow scum swirled in the idle water at its fringes.
Lucky felt his heart sink. This is going to be quite a challenge.
“Every dog be careful,” growled Alpha. “If any of you fall in, I won’t allow Martha to rescue you. Understood? I won’t risk two dogs.”
Lucky glanced at the huge water-dog.
“River-Dog, protect us,” Martha said. She looked solemn and anxious, but she didn’t argue with Alpha. Even she was intimidated by that swirling, deadly current.
One by one, the dogs trudged nose-to-tail downstream, keeping their distance as well as they could from the water. The force of the nearby torrent sent shivers down Lucky’s spine to the tip of his tail. Any dog who fell in there would be beyond help.
Walking at the river’s flank made Lucky’s nerves tingle and prickle. More than once he heard Daisy whimper with fear. Beetle and Thorn shivered as they trudged on, tails curled tightly at their flanks. Every grown dog was on edge, flinching at the noise of splitting branches and tumbling pebbles.
When the river valley flattened out at last, the river widened and calmed, straggling into a broad stretch of sandy plain. The dogs instinctively spread out, away from the edge of the water, and Lucky could hear them panting with relief. But though the terrifying white torrent was behind them, this new landscape unnerved Lucky too. It was vast and very exposed. He halted, Daisy shivering at his side. Just ahead, Mickey sniffed the air uncertainly, and Fiery gave a low, indecisive growl.
No longer funneled by its narrow streambed, the river split into many silver rivulets; the largest divided around two small islands crowned with tattered and forlorn pines. Searching the broad plain to find their path, Lucky saw with a sinking heart that the valley divided too, in several directions. In the distance he could make out at least three narrow passes between the low hills.
Oh, River-Dog! What now? Do we follow your biggest stream, or take one of the other valleys ahead?
“Where do we go now?” Echoing Lucky’s thoughts, Snap stepped hesitantly forward, and turned to Alpha.
Every dog faced their leader, their eyes hopeful. But Alpha simply stood there, turning from one river-fork to the other. His hackles rose slightly, and his tail was low, the tip of it twitching nervously. He wouldn’t look at any of them. Around him, dogs were glancing at one another, growling and muttering, their ears pinned back with anxiety.
“Alpha,” Lucky gently repeated. “Where do you think we should go now?” There were so many routes they could take, but which would lead them to safety?
Alpha’s tail twitched, but he kept his eyes fixed firmly on the horizon.
“Be quiet. I’m thinking,” he said eventually, but any dog could have heard the uncertainty in his voice.
Alpha’s struggling, Lucky realized. He has no idea what to do.
Suddenly Sweet loped confidently forward and turned to face them. Her ears were pricked, her tail high, and her voice was steady and firm.
“All of you, wait and keep calm. There’s an important decision to be made. Be patient.”
The elegant swift-dog was a natural at being Alpha’s second-in-command, Lucky thought with a twinge of pride and regret. Maybe Sweet and I once shared a connection, but not anymore. Sweet had chosen to be Alpha’s loyal Beta. She padded from dog to dog, looking each firmly in the eyes, daring them to defy her. Lucky barely recognized her from the old days. Sweet had spoken of the Trap House, but she was no longer the gentle dog he’d met there. She’d accused Lucky of betrayal; she’d taken the side of dogs who hated the Fierce Dog pups. She’d held Lucky down when Alpha wanted to scar him for life. . . .
But at least Sweet had the guts and the quick thinking to step in when Alpha was floundering, and Lucky was grateful for that. She realizes, too. She knows Alpha’s in trouble.
Now Sweet was sniffing at the branching streams, paddling carefully in the mud and lifting her slender head to scent along the dividing valleys.
Sweet’s nostrils flared. Abruptly she leaped forward, racing gracefully down the bank of the right-hand stream. Her long legs took her swiftly out of sight around the curve of a low hill.
She reappeared within moments, streaking smoothly back up the valley to the Pack. As she came closer she barked with delight.
“This way! There are fish in the river, and it’s clear of yellow scum—if they have survived, then this must be a safe route for us.”
“Right,” barked Alpha, his confidence restored. “Follow me.” He looked around at the others before trotting proudly ahead. The rest of the Pack fell in behind.
Lucky watched his Packmates in disbelief. Hadn’t any of them noticed that moment of weakness from their leader? They were all padding along dutifully in his wake as if nothing had happened, as if Sweet hadn’t just saved them all with her confidence and quick thinking.
Snap loped past Lucky, shooting him a look of amusement. He caught up with the little tan-and-white dog, and trotted at her side. “What’s so funny, Snap?” he asked irritably.
“Nothing. I noticed you looking unhappy back there. But, see, everything is fine again! Alpha’s a good leader, Lucky. Strong. We all trust in him, and we shouldn’t stop believing. All of us. You understand?” Picking up her pace, she bounded ahead.
Lucky couldn’t help but stop in his tracks. He liked Snap, and he knew there was a lot more to her than met the eye—but he had a feeling he’d just been told off. How did she even know that I was doubting Alpha? Sometimes the subtleties of Pack relationships still made Lucky’s head spin.
With a sigh, he shook himself and followed Snap. Maybe she’s
right. I’d better stop worrying so much.
Snap was trotting after the rest of the Pack, who had disappeared around a shoulder of a low hill. As he picked up his pace to follow, Lucky heard a loud bark of warning. Forgetting his confusion, he raced around the hill and caught up. All the dogs had come to a halt, and Lucky drew in a shocked breath, feeling his hackles lift.
Longpaw houses!
Ahead lay a small cluster of buildings, neatly lining one of those rock-hard longpaw roads that hurt the paws if a dog walked on them too long. There must be a town at the end of it, Lucky realized, tucked comfortably into the valley at the edge of another pine forest that sloped up into the hills. Among the red and gray roofs and the low longpaw houses he could make out regularly spaced trees and more hardstone tracks, as well as the signs and lights the longpaws always put beside them. The lights didn’t flash and change now; they all seemed dead. There were no high clear-stone buildings in this place, so the distant hills were visible. This was a far smaller longpaw settlement than Lucky’s old city.
The houses didn’t seem to have been too badly damaged by the Big Growl, Lucky thought with a shudder of unease as the dogs padded cautiously toward them. With their intact white walls, their neat roofs, and little fenced gardens, they looked as if they might still contain living, breathing longpaws. Which might not be good news for a Pack of Wild Dogs.
“I don’t like this,” he growled under his breath.
No sooner had he said it than a white ball of fur flashed past his paws. Sunshine was racing for a row of longpaw houses, her fluffy tail in the air, her long, white ears blowing back, barking in delight.
“Lucky!” Alpha barked angrily. “Bring that long-haired rat back here!”
Oh, Sunshine! Lucky sprinted after her, not wasting breath on barking. With her short legs she was easy enough to catch up to, for all her eagerness. “Stop, Sunshine!” he barked, nipping at her tail. “Stop!”
“But—” She glanced over her shoulder but ran on, ducking her tail away from his teeth. “Food! Real food! Soft sleeping nests! Come on, Lucky!”
Lucky growled and snapped at her sides this time, nipping her flesh beneath the silky fur. “I said stop!” He couldn’t believe this! After all they’d been through, she still turned into a lapdog at the sight of a longpaw’s front door. “STOP!”
Lucky seized the scruff of her neck in his jaws, dragging her to a halt and shaking her.
She wriggled and squirmed in his grip, her barks high and desperate: “Let me go! Let me go, you bully!”
Snarling, Lucky pinned her down with his jaws, just managing to stop himself from giving her a real, hard bite on the neck. She thrashed a little more, feebly, and Lucky grew aware that Alpha had come closer and was watching them with interest.
Lucky panted into Sunshine’s fur and gave her another small shake. “Come back to the Pack right now,” he growled quietly. “Unless you want Alpha to throw you in the river with the fish. And Martha won’t be dragging you out.”
Beneath him, Sunshine went still, and he felt her begin to tremble.
“If there are longpaws here, they’re not yours. They’ll see you as a wild animal. You know it’s true. Come back,” he murmured again. “And get ready to apologize.”
At last Sunshine went limp, defeated. Lucky nudged her to her paws and led her to Alpha. She was shaking by the time she stood before her leader, looking very small in front of his huge forelegs.
She flopped onto her side before the half wolf, showing her belly in submission. She looked petrified. Acting sensibly at last, thought Lucky with relief. Her nose in the dirt, she thumped her tail once, miserably.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry, Alpha. I didn’t think. I couldn’t think.”
Alpha glared down at her. Lucky held his breath, afraid even to intervene on her behalf. But young Lick crept close to Sunshine’s flanks. Comfortingly she began to nuzzle Sunshine’s silky coat.
Lucky was touched, but Alpha gave a sharp snarl of disgust. “How did my Pack ever come to this? Home to a foolish bunch of Leashed Dogs.”
Lucky opened his mouth to protest, but he was interrupted by a low clatter from the nearest longpaw house.
“Something’s in there,” he exclaimed, forgetting Sunshine’s troubles for the moment. Sky-Dogs, protect us—this can’t be good.
“I see no longpaws.” Alpha frowned. “We’ll investigate this place. There may be food. But be extra vigilant.”
With a jerk of his head, Alpha led the dogs into the shade of a stone wall by the side of the track, and they slunk along the hard sidewalk. Lucky glanced nervously at the house where he’d heard the clatter, but no longpaw appeared. Perhaps it had been a rat, or a sharpclaw? He knew there could still be longpaws hiding somewhere. Like that one I found in the city, with his firebox . . . the angry one.
The hardstone surface felt odd underpaw, after soft grass and leaves and muddy earth, but it was familiar to Lucky. Even the smell of it evoked memories, and as he lowered his muzzle to sniff at it he felt an unexpected rush of longing for his old city life.
The click of the Pack’s claws seemed very loud, and Lucky was amused to hear the rising murmur of complaints among the Wild Dogs.
“What is this stuff?” Spring’s voice echoed, and she glanced anxiously up.
“It’s not stone; I’ll tell you that,” Fiery growled. “Keep your voice down.”
Snap sniffed at the surface, hackles rising. “I don’t like the smell.”
“I do!” piped up Daisy’s voice.
“Quiet, I said!” snapped Fiery.
“It hurts my paw pads,” complained Thorn in a low voice.
Lucky rolled his eyes in exasperation. “You’ll get used to it. Longpaws walk on it all the time.”
“So do Leashed Dogs,” added Bruno with pride. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Yes,” said Daisy mischievously. “You have to learn to be as tough as Leashed Dogs.”
Ahead, Sweet made a gruff sound that might have been irritation or amusement.
“And,” Lucky added, “there’s one thing you can be sure of. If there are longpaws around, there’s always food. Food that you don’t have to chase and kill! Believe me, food tastes a lot different when you don’t have to catch it.”
“Yes,” agreed Sunshine with feeling. “And when you’re not too tired to eat it.”
That seemed to improve the Wild Dogs’ mood. Snap and Spring looked brighter already, exchanging optimistic glances as they trotted along with their paws lifted higher. Even Moon pricked her ears in anticipation. But Alpha called Lucky forward with a surly bark.
“Who leads this Pack?” he asked coldly. “You or me, Street Dog?”
It was on the tip of Lucky’s tongue to say Sweet, but—thank the wits of the Forest-Dog—he restrained himself just in time. “Sorry, Alpha,” he said meekly.
“Just watch your step,” growled the half wolf. “Ah!” Turning a corner, he came to a halt. The Pack fell silent, and Sunshine gave a high whimper.
Lucky swallowed hard. The center of the longpaw settlement lay before them, huge and wide open, a place where they’d be visible and vulnerable. Hesitantly they crept toward the end of their narrow street.
The Big Growl seemed to have done less damage here than in the city: There was broken clear-stone everywhere, but no collapsed houses. Ahead of them lay a vast area of neat grass with well-tended trees and a pool of blue water in the center. Tucked among the reeds that edged it was a massive, messy nest.
“Swans,” whispered Bella. “Take care, everyone.”
Lucky too had always respected and avoided those huge white waterbirds, but this nest was empty. “It’s all right; the nest’s abandoned.”
“He’s right,” murmured Bruno. “There are no birds there.”
Mickey shivered uneasily. “No birds anywhere. Even in the trees.”
He’s right, Lucky realized with a creeping sense of dread. The birds have left this longp
aw-place. None roosting, none flying.
And no wonder. As the dogs padded out into the open space and gazed around, Lucky felt his stomach lurch.
There were bodies here: two on the black hardstone, one on the grass, and one half-in and half-out of the water—abandoned, decaying corpses of . . .
Sunshine gave a wail of horror.
“Longpaws!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Leashed Dogs sent up a volley of grief-stricken, baying howls. Even Lucky felt a stab of awful misery.
The bodies looked as if they had been struck down without warning. Lucky spotted a few more—one was caught on a fence; another lay propped against the door of a house. Some had wide-open, glazed eyes; others had none. Crows must have found them, thought Lucky, and now even the crows have fled. And there was something strange about these longpaws’ hides: They were gray, the texture of wet bark. There were streaks of yellow spit at their lips, and their paw-tips were blue, turning to black.
Lucky swallowed. Longpaws like these had passed him scraps under park benches, had absentmindedly stroked his head, or thrown him leftovers from Food Houses. Even the Trap House longpaws had fed him, brought him water, given him a fairly comfortable place to sleep. Some had kicked or shouted at him, too, but none of them deserved to end up like this. Lucky could tell the bodies had lain here for a while. Some had been attacked by foxes or birds; some were almost skeletons. Over the whole settlement lay the sickly, powerful scent of death.
They should have been given to the Earth-Dog, thought Lucky, feeling sick. Why weren’t they?
“Are they our longpaws?” wailed Sunshine in distress. “Are they here?”
“They might be.” Mickey lay down beside her, baying his misery. “We never did find them, did we?”
“No. Oh please, no.” Martha crouched, whimpering.
“Shut up!” Alpha’s angry barks could barely be heard over the Leashed Dogs’ howling. “Be quiet, I order you!”