“Maybe we can take cover in the forest?” Gizmo asked, looking to Max for approval.
Max shook his head. “No, we have to keep moving. Dolph is still behind us. A little water won’t hurt us. Besides, I think I see a town up ahead.”
Max’s stomach twisted, and he realized just how hungry he was. If the rain was bad enough, surely Dolph would take shelter, too. Maybe they had time to search for someplace dry and scrounge for food.
As if reading Max’s thoughts, Rocky said, “Okay, just as long as we find some grub soon. I’m feeling a little woozy.”
Max opened his snout to answer, but before he could say anything, thunder rumbled across the sky.
At first, Max thought it was from the oncoming storm. But the rumbling didn’t stop. Instead, it grew louder and louder. He saw shadows flooding the streets in front of them, dust billowing in their wake.
Max remembered the massive clouds of darkness from his dream.
As the thunder rose to a roar and the ground trembled beneath his paws, Max barked as loudly as he could, “Run!”
CHAPTER 2
STAMPEDE
They had only seconds to hide.
The shadowy figures were rumbling toward them, filling the air with terror. Panicked, Rocky turned in circles, yipping, “Where do we go?” while Gizmo started toward the nearby fields, until she realized that Rocky was no longer behind her.
Nipping at Rocky’s side, Max barked, “Into the ditch, hurry!”
Yowling in fear, the Dachshund stopped spinning. Then he raced through the untamed grass and dove headfirst into a dip in the ground. Max let Gizmo dart ahead of him next to Rocky, then flung himself on top of his two small friends to protect them.
The ground trembled and vibrated as though it would break apart, and Max’s heart pounded, punching at his chest.
He dared to look up at the surging darkness.
And saw a stampede.
The shadows weren’t the cloud from his dream after all. They were dozens upon dozens of horses, galloping as though their lives depended on it. The front of the line was dominated by giant steeds with sleek brown, white, and black coats. Their manes and tails flew behind them, some tangled and ratty, others appearing as though they’d once been groomed. As they ran, dust from the road kicked out around them, filling the air and making it hard to see clearly.
“Hey!” Max barked loudly over the sound of hooves slamming against dirt and asphalt. “Stop!”
But none of the horses heard him.
Closing his eyes, Max pressed himself down into the narrow ditch.
And the horses were upon them.
The earth above the dogs erupted as hooves slammed into the dirt and grass, flinging pebbles and soil into Max’s fur. The wind and noise were tremendous, like hail smacking against a tin shed during a storm.
The steeds neighed and whinnied, frantically urging one another on as they galloped past the three dogs.
“Don’t let the storm reach us!”
“We must get back to the wild!”
“Never return to the wall!”
At that, Max opened his eyes in surprise—just as a stallion’s hoof slammed dangerously close to his head.
“Please! Watch out!” he barked again.
A tan mare heard Max as she raced toward him. Eyes wide with panic, she reared back on her hind legs, then spun away from Max moments before she would have stepped on the three dogs.
Another horse, a brown colt, also pulled away from the herd, snorting and blinking at the dust kicked up by the stampede.
And then it was over.
The horses had raced past, continuing down the highway, still neighing as they galloped away from whatever danger had them so horribly spooked.
Max lay atop Rocky and Gizmo, not daring to move, his heart still thudding. His ears rang, and all around him dust hung heavy in the air.
“Is it over?” Gizmo asked from underneath Max, her voice muffled.
“I think so,” Max whispered.
“Can’t… breathe…” Rocky gasped. “Get off… big guy…”
“Oh!” Max jumped to his feet. “Sorry!”
Rocky and Gizmo gulped for air as they emerged from the shallow dip in the grass. “What happened?” Gizmo asked.
“Horses,” Max said, panting. “Lots and lots of horses.”
Rocky exhaled. “I’ll say.”
All around them, the tall grass and barbed weeds were trampled and torn to pieces.
Clopping hooves echoed nearby, and the three dogs turned to see the mare and colt who had veered off from the other horses.
The mare nickered a hello as she approached, her ears tilted toward Max and her brown eyes soft and kind. She was mostly tan, save for a large splotch of white on her side. There was something regal about her, and gentle at the same time.
Her companion seemed more wary. The colt was slightly smaller than the mare, and something about his shaggy dark brown coat and the length of his mane gave Max the impression that it had been a long time since he’d been groomed—if he ever had. He flicked his long tail and stared at Max.
The two horses stopped at the edge of the highway, towering over the three dogs. They were big. Rocky and Gizmo barely came up past their fetlocks, and even Max felt dwarfed by the giant beasts. Their heads and snouts were as long as Max was tall.
“Sorry for nearly trampling you,” the mare said, shaking out her mane. “I was so caught up in the panic I almost didn’t notice you.”
Max made his way over to the horses, his tail wagging slowly as he looked up at them. “I’m glad you stopped. I’m Max, by the way. These two are Rocky and Gizmo.”
The colt snorted and flicked his ears. “Are those your puppies? They don’t look anything like you.”
Gizmo wiggled her hindquarters, amused. “No, he was protecting us, but we’re not puppies—we’re just on the small side!”
“Oh,” the colt said, snorting a second time.
The mare sighed. “Don’t mind Duskborn,” she said, peering down at the dogs. “He is young and was raised in the wild. He’s still learning things we riding horses picked up on our farms and in the stables. I’m Savannah Rose, though my friends call me Rosy.”
“Oh!” Gizmo said. “Rosy! That’s such a pretty name.”
Rosy clopped a hoof against the road. “Thank you. Gizmo is also a very nice name.”
A whoosh of wind rose from the west, and Max shivered. Looking around, he saw that the clouds had grown darker. The trees on either side of the highway danced back and forth, their branches lashing.
Duskborn stomped backward, away from the dogs, thrashing his head. “We have to go, Rosy. We’ll lose the others.”
“Wait,” Max said. “Why is everyone so scared? Where are you running to?”
Rosy’s tail flicked as she eyed her younger companion. “Not so fast, Duskborn. We have to warn these dogs.”
Duskborn whinnied. “They’re just dogs—”
“Hush!” Rosy said. “We’re all family now—all of us animals. Big or small.” She turned her head to the dogs. “A great storm is coming. We’re aiming to outrun it.” She paused. “You should, too, if you can.”
Rocky plopped down. “You’re going to try to outrun a storm? That’s impossible.”
“Maybe for you,” Duskborn neighed. “But we horses are made for running.”
“We’re faster than we look,” Gizmo said as she came to sit next to Rocky. “Anyway, wouldn’t it be easier to find shelter and ride out the storm indoors?”
Rosy opened her long muzzle to say something, then hesitated. Muscles rippled beneath her sleek, shiny coat as she turned her whole body toward Duskborn. “Go over there and graze for a moment.”
“But—” the colt started to say.
Rosy stamped a hoof. Suddenly she didn’t look so gentle anymore. “Now.”
Duskborn clomped off toward the other side of the road and started yanking up stalks of grass with his big yellow teeth. While he d
id, Rosy lowered her head close to Max, Rocky, and Gizmo. Her breath smelled of hay.
“It’s not just the storm we’re running from. There’s also the wall,” she whispered, her large, bright eyes fearful.
“A wall?” Rocky asked.
“The wall,” Max said softly. Last night’s dream came back to him in bits and pieces: a giant silver wall. Madame leaping over it with ease. The darkness pinning him until he was surrounded.
“That’s right. The only thing at the end of this road is a big silver wall,” Rosy said. “It’s much too high to jump over—trust me, I’m an award-winning show jumper.” She swished her long tail with pride. “And any animal who strays too close gets a nasty shock.”
“Has the wall always been there?” Gizmo asked.
Rosy shook her great head, sending her mane cascading. “It’s new. The humans put it there to keep us all out.”
Clopping hooves sounded behind Rosy, and Duskborn approached, chomping on a mouthful of grass.
“Are you telling them about the wall?” he asked.
Rosy nodded. “They deserve to know.”
Duskborn’s nostrils flared wide. “That place is full of awful humans! I heard they’ve got a slaughterhouse back there. They’re planning to turn us into meat!”
Max shuddered. “I don’t believe that. We’re their pets. They love us!”
Rosy shoved Duskborn away with her head, then looked down at the dogs. “Whatever the people want, it’s a mystery to me. Truth is, none of us knows what’s behind that wall. We just know animals and humans aren’t on the best of terms these days.”
Another gust of wind washed over the animals, and flashes of lightning arced through the dark clouds. Max looked down the highway to the west, imagining the great band of silver beyond the trees. It hadn’t shocked him when he’d touched it in his dream, but it had clearly been made to keep him away from whatever was on the other side.
Dr. Lynn had warned them that some humans were afraid of animals and might not react kindly to their presence. But Max pictured the sweet, laughing faces of Charlie and Emma as they ran their sticky hands through his fur and scratched his belly. He couldn’t imagine them hurting him. Ever.
“That’s not true, though, Rosy,” Duskborn said. “Someone does know what’s over the wall. Remember?”
“You’re right,” the mare said, her enormous head bobbing. “I remember now. From a few towns back, that peculiar fellow. Stripes, was it?”
“I’m pretty sure it was Spots,” Duskborn said.
“I’m almost positive it was Stripes.”
“And I’m almost positive it was Spots.”
Rocky jumped to his feet and barked, “Whoa, whoa, take it easy. Stripes or Spots, Lines or Dots, whatever the name is—is this guy a dog? ’Cause if he knows something, we need to talk to him.”
“All I know is Stripes is most certainly not a horse,” Rosy said. “He’s some sort of small creature, like you. But why would you want to try to get past the wall? It’s dangerous.”
“There could be kibble!” Rocky said.
“Or people,” Max said. “I had a dream about a silver wall. I think it’s where we’re supposed to go.”
“A dream?” Duskborn asked, then snorted. “You’re chasing a dream? You dogs sure are silly.”
“Hey!” Gizmo said, baring her teeth. “You’d be surprised. Max’s dreams are special!”
At that moment, a great flash of white light flared out of the clouds. The horses whinnied and reared back on their hind legs.
Seconds later, a cracking boom rumbled through the sky.
“We have to go!” Duskborn neighed, already trotting down the highway to the east, away from the approaching storm.
“Sorry, but we must leave,” Rosy said as she followed him. “For your own sake, turn back. You don’t want to go that way!”
“Wait!” Max barked. He climbed onto the asphalt and started to chase after them. “We need to know more about Stripes. I mean Spots. I mean…”
It was too late.
The two horses had sped into a full gallop, and there was no way Max could catch up to them. A few seconds later, they were distant shadows.
Panting, Max returned to his friends, who were huddled together in the center of the road. The wind was now a steady, constant rush of air that twisted and tangled their fur. Cold drops of water fell into Max’s eyes, just a few at first, then more and more.
“Come on,” Max said as he passed his two friends and quickened his pace, heading west toward the nearby town.
“Are you sure we should be going in this direction?” Gizmo raced to Max’s side, her tiny legs a blur. “If the wall is as dangerous as it sounds, maybe we should turn back.”
Max raised his snout as the rain grew heavier. “No, Dr. Lynn’s beacons want us to go this way. We’re supposed to follow them to that wall.”
“Besides,” Rocky added as he ran next to Gizmo, “we’re not fraidy-cats like those horses. I mean, who’s scared of a little wall or a silly storm?”
“Weren’t you just complaining about getting your fur wet?” Gizmo asked.
Before Rocky could answer, another flash of lightning blazed up ahead, and thunder exploded in their ears. The sky was now a sickly greenish gray, and the rain had turned from a few tiny droplets to a watery onslaught.
“Okay!” Rocky yipped. “Maybe I’m a little afraid!”
Lightning arced above them once more, this time touching down in the field to their right, close enough that they could practically feel the heat. The noise was tremendous, so loud that Max’s ears rang and buzzed. Despite the heavy rain, flames licked at the grass where the lightning had landed.
Running wildly ahead, Rocky howled in fear. “Make that a lot afraid!”
Max didn’t respond. Instead, he lowered his head and barreled forward. His fur was soaked, and he could barely see. The wind was so strong that it felt as if someone were trying to shove him backward.
The horses were right to be afraid, he realized. This wasn’t just any old storm.
This was a hurricane.
CHAPTER 3
TEMPEST
The wind screamed and roared as it flung the rainwater sideways. Sticky, shredded leaves and broken branches swirled through the air. Above, the clouds mounded thick and black, as if night had fallen early.
“Keep running!” Max barked over the howling winds.
“Where are we running to?” Gizmo barked back.
Max didn’t answer. He lifted his head as he sprinted down the center of the highway, his eyes narrowed to avoid the icy rain.
The trees near the road thrashed from side to side, creaking and groaning. There was a group of trailer homes almost hidden behind tree trunks, rocking on their foundations as shutters slammed against their painted metal siding. As Max watched, the wind lifted a pink plastic flamingo from a yard and tossed it into the sky.
Then, up ahead, he saw a big green sign with white lettering: SHOPPING MALL—NEXT RIGHT.
“There’s a mall nearby!” Max bellowed. “It will be safe!”
Neither Rocky nor Gizmo answered. Both were too busy panting, their small legs pounding on the road, their fur slick with rainwater. It was hard enough for Max to run against the wind—he could only imagine how much harder it was for them.
Up ahead, Max saw traffic lights dangling from power lines. They flashed red as they were flung back and forth by the winds. Then Max heard Rocky bark a warning.
“Watch out, big guy!”
Max skidded to a stop as a flash of white and orange flew across the road in front of him. Blinking away the rain, he saw one of Dr. Lynn’s traffic barricades go tumbling into the trees. The beacon on top of it blinked twice before it crunched against the ground and shattered.
“Oh, no,” Max said quietly.
The storm was blowing away their trail.
Max shook his head. He couldn’t think about that now. He had to get his friends to shelter.
“T
his way!” he barked as he veered onto the road that led to the mall. It wasn’t long before the three dogs were racing through a flooded parking lot toward the large, dark shopping center.
The dogs splashed forward as the wind sent waves crashing against their sides. Rain came at them from every direction. Abandoned shopping carts slammed into sidewalks and lampposts.
Ahead, Max saw heavy glass doors below a glowing green sign that read ENTRANCE. Checking that Rocky and Gizmo were still behind him, he raced toward the doors.
He stepped onto the rubber mat in front of the entrance, panting for breath. For a moment, Max thought the doors might not open, that he’d led his friends astray.
But then Rocky and Gizmo collapsed upon the mat, and the doors wheezed open.
The three dogs jumped through the doorway, the storm practically shoving them inside as it, too, tried to enter the mall. Then the doors squealed shut, and, finally, the wind and rain stopped.
Max, Rocky, and Gizmo dropped to their bellies on the cold tiled floor, soaking wet and panting. Max’s whole body trembled from the cold. He shook his fur and a spray of water flew off.
“Remind me never to question a horse ever again,” Rocky said. “Them brutes have good instincts.”
Gizmo rolled onto her side, licking one of her paws. “I’m so cold, Max.”
“Me, too,” Max said. “But we’re safe now.”
“Safe?” Rocky said. “Ha! Soaked is more like it. Anyway”—he glanced around—“where are we?”
The glass windows rattled. Thudding raindrops and whooshing wind echoed through the dim halls. High above, domed skylights showed off the gray-green sky.
The storm was getting worse by the second.
Groaning, Max climbed to all fours. “We’re in a mall, Rocky,” Max said. “And malls have food, don’t they? Let’s get away from these windows and see if we can find something to eat.”
Rocky jumped up. “Yes! It’s bad enough being soaked without being hungry, too. I sure hope this place has a pet store.”
Journey's End Page 2