Journey's End

by Christopher Holt

  As the eight animals waited silently in the burrow, Max’s ears twitched at the sound of footsteps just outside. He could hear coyotes sniffing the dirt, picking up Max’s, Rocky’s, and Gizmo’s scents but surely confused as to how they had disappeared. The coyotes’ own stench swirled into the burrow, smelling of anger and urgency and decay.

  “They were here,” one coyote said, her voice muffled by the dirt and rock.

  “They must have looped back into the canyon,” another coyote growled, scratching angrily at the ground. Bits of soil were flung into the alcove, landing on the hidden animals.

  Rocky took in a sharp breath—Max could see he needed to sneeze. The Dachshund held it in as best he could—then snorted, a tiny, forceful sound.

  “What was that?” one of the coyotes asked.

  Max’s heart pounded so fast that his chest hurt. He could see the shadows of coyote paws just outside the armored creatures’ burrow. They were so close. Any second he expected one of the wild beasts to shove its snout into the hole, teeth bared and ready to rip into Max and his friends.

  But just then, a loud “yi-yi-yi!” echoed through the canyon: Bonecrush calling for his pack.

  The coyotes outside the burrow growled ferociously, then bounded away, their paw steps fading as they left the narrow alley.

  Max, Rocky, Gizmo, and the five other animals lay still, silent—for how long Max couldn’t tell. He heard the snorts of his friends, and as his vision grew accustomed to the scant moonlight that leaked into the burrow, he saw the round balls of tan armor relax and unfold.

  “They gone, Mama?” one of the tiny creatures asked.

  “They’re gone, sweet baby,” the big armored animal cooed, holding her little ones against her soft belly.

  Max shifted, and his head scraped the stone ceiling above. The burrow these animals had dug was deep, tall, and wide, with a ditch around the outer edge to catch whatever rainfall might pour through. Warm water filled the ditch. It was dark inside the space, but some light from the outside filtered through cracks in the rock wall.

  “Thank you,” Max said. “We would have been trapped if it weren’t for you.”

  “It wasn’t a problem,” the large creature said. “My name is Edwina, by the by. And these are my babies, Abel, Hilty, Shuck, and Urial. We’ve made our home in this canyon until they’re big enough to travel someplace with more water.”

  “Hello, hello, helloooo,” one of the babies said, waving his paws as he rocked back and forth in his strange shell. He looked like a hairless mouse or mole mimicking a human sitting in a rocking chair.

  “Hi!” Gizmo stood up and shook herself free of dirt. “What a cutie! How old are you?”

  “Two months!” one of the little creatures cried. “This many!” He held up his two front paws.

  Rocky stood up and stretched. “I’m Rocky,” he said. “And these are Gizmo and Max.”

  “You are dogs?” Edwina asked, her ridged tail curling protectively around her babies. “Pets for the humans?”

  “That we are,” Max said. “I don’t think we’ve ever met an animal like you before.”

  Edwina shifted her weight to sit more comfortably, and the plates that made up her shell clinked against one another. Though her back, forehead, and tail looked leathery, from the sound the protective armor must have been harder.

  “We are armadillos,” Edwina said, sounding amused. “You must not be from around here if you haven’t met one of us.”

  The smallest of the baby armadillos—Shuck—crawled to sit in front of Gizmo. The terrier positively towered above her.

  “Hi,” the tiny animal whispered.

  “Hi!” Gizmo said back.

  “Hi,” Shuck said again, her paws holding her soft belly protectively.

  Max tried to wag his tail, but there wasn’t enough room in the burrow for it to move. “We’re actually from very far north of here,” he said to Edwina. “We’ve been traveling for months now, ever since the humans disappeared. We were heading west to the wall when the coyotes found us.”

  Edwina nodded slowly as her sharp claws dug a deeper, softer trench in which to rest. “Oh, I’ve heard about that wall,” she said. “Ever since it appeared, all the desert creatures have been spreading word of its danger. You need to be careful if you choose to go there.”

  “Hi hi hi!” Shuck suddenly squealed, scooting toward Gizmo with each word.

  Gizmo wagged her tail and licked the little armadillo’s rough, hard shell. “I see you; don’t worry.”

  One of the other babies—Abel, Max thought—scratched at his mother’s side.

  “Mama, can’t they just roll up?” he asked. “Roll up and be safe, like us?”

  Edwina pressed her snout to his. “Dogs can’t roll up like armadillos. We’re special that way. But they have other means to escape danger.”

  Rocky scratched behind his ears with a hind leg. “Yeah, don’t sweat it, kid. We’ve faced off with giant alligators. This wall isn’t any trouble for us.”

  Urial rolled through the dirt and opened up his shell in front of Rocky. “What’s an alligator?” he asked. “Is it scary?”

  “You know those lizards you see running around?” Rocky said.

  “Uh-huh,” Urial said, rapt with attention.

  “Imagine one a hundred thousand times larger, bigger than your mama—bigger even than my friend Max here!” Rocky spun in a circle. “They chased us through a swamp!”

  The babies all gasped, clutching their front claws together under their snouts, listening intently.

  “What happened?” Shuck whispered.

  Rocky looked between the four babies. “One night,” he started, “it was raining so hard we could barely see. And the alligators showed up, cornering us against a big hole in the ground.”

  Abel leaned in. “Did you fall?”

  “Almost,” Rocky said. “But we managed to make it inside a building. We thought we were safe… but then we met the Mudlurker.” Leaping back, Rocky aimed his snout up at the craggy roof of the burrow and said, “He howled like this.” Then he let loose his own version of the Mudlurker’s haunting cry.

  The four baby armadillos squealed. Then they curled into balls, and rolled over to their mother.

  “Don’t worry,” Gizmo said, glaring at Rocky. “The Mudlurker turned out to be a perfectly nice dog, and we were safe from the alligators with him. What Rocky means is that even though we don’t have armor like you, we have our own ways of avoiding danger.”

  Edwina stretched, extending her long, sharp claws. “It’s all right, babies. There’s nothing to worry about. Alligators could never live where we do. There’s not near enough water.”

  Max ducked his head. “Sorry,” he said. “We didn’t mean to scare them.”

  Her ears twitching, Edwina said, “It’s no worry. They need to learn to fear most other animals, anyway. Our armor is good protection, but if predators ever got to our soft bellies, well…”

  The baby armadillos shivered and curled into leathery spheres, cuddling against their mother. Still, they seemed to calm down quickly; it wasn’t long before Max could hear their soft, muffled snores.

  “All the excitement has tuckered them out,” Edwina said, laughter in her voice. “And let me tell you, I’m glad for it. Often they have far more energy than I do, and they keep me up half the night!”

  Gizmo walked to Edwina’s side and dropped down next to her, as Edwina turned her attention to Max. “That wall you’re going to is a topic of controversy,” she said. “I don’t care much either way if the humans come back, but I do know many of the desert animals are happier without them. Even those who liked the humans felt differently after being shocked when they touched the wall.”

  “We understand,” Rocky said, resting his head on his paws. “But we’re not giving up on finding our human families. Right, buddy?”

  Max licked Rocky and said, “That’s right.” He turned to Edwina. “Are we very far from the wall?”

&
nbsp; “Quite the contrary,” Edwina said. “You’re very, very close. Why, I’d say you could be there tomorrow morning. But you have to be careful. And not just because of the wall itself.”

  “What, then?” Max asked, his furry brows raised.

  Edwina curled in on herself, pulling her slumbering children close to her belly. “The humans abandoned the roads leading to the wall, and now they’re overrun by all sorts of wildlife. Not the least of which are coyotes like the ones that chased you into the canyon here.”

  “We know,” Max said. “Like Rocky said about the gators, we’ve faced a lot of obstacles. We can’t give up now, no matter how dangerous the road ahead may be.”

  “I respect that,” Edwina said. “Really, I do. But for tonight, I insist the three of you stay here and rest where it’s safe.”

  “We don’t want to put you out,” Max said. “We can always climb out of your burrow and sleep somewhere in the canyon.”

  Waving a paw, Edwina said, “Nonsense. Tonight you rest here. Then tomorrow, if you still insist on heading to that wall, I’ll lead you out of the canyon and send you on your way.”

  Gizmo licked the underside of Edwina’s hairless snout. “Thank you, Miss Edwina. We really appreciate it.”

  “Sleep sure does sound good,” Rocky said, then opened his jaws wide in a yawn. “Just yesterday we were figuring out how to make a train work and going for a ride. Then today, we hiked through a desert and tangled with coyotes. I sure hope tomorrow is easier.”

  “Me, too, buddy,” Max said. “Me, too.”

  One by one the dogs and the armadillos closed their eyes and drifted off into dreams. Max waited until they were all asleep before he let his own eyelids close.

  The wall—and the humans on the other side—were only a morning’s walk away. But something told him that reaching Charlie, Emma, Dr. Lynn, and all the other people wouldn’t be as simple as digging a tunnel and running into their arms.

  CHAPTER 19

  THE PROMISE

  Max was on the other side of the wall.

  The field of empty, fluttering tents lay before him, and the shimmering metal barricade was at his heels.

  Max didn’t know how he’d made it over, but he was glad that, at least for now, the dark storm and its inky tendrils were kept at bay on the side he’d come from, its roars and screams muffled.

  He padded forward, sniffing the air, ears alert. Human smells were everywhere, but he saw no one. The tents and motor homes were abandoned. One RV had a square of fake grass lying beneath its side door, an awning spread over its top, providing shade to two white plastic chairs. Crystal wind chimes dangled from the awning, tinkling as they shifted in the breeze. The sound was almost like children’s laughter.

  No, the laughter wasn’t coming from the chimes. It was real.

  Max stopped in place, and the tents and vehicles in front of him shifted aside, revealing a path. At the end of the path, shadowed by the sun, were Charlie and Emma.

  He’d found his family!

  The children sat next to each other, building castles in the desert sand. They didn’t seem to see him.

  Tail wagging and tongue hanging free, Max bounded forward, running as hard and as fast as he could.

  And then Madame appeared in front of him, blocking his way.

  She sat down and cocked her head curiously at Max as he skidded to a stop in front of her.

  Have you forgotten something? she asked, her voice echoing in Max’s head, though her jaws did not move.

  Max leaped up and down. “Of course I haven’t,” he barked to his old mentor. “Charlie and Emma are right there! I found them. I finally found them!”

  He rushed past her, kicking up dust and dirt as he flew toward his human family’s waiting arms.

  And again, Madame appeared to block his way.

  Look around you, she said.

  Max heard panting, and he turned to see Rocky and Gizmo sitting perfectly still, watching him.

  A circle of glowing white appeared around Gizmo, then another around Rocky. A tingling sensation ran up Max’s legs, and he looked down to find himself in a ring of his own.

  Though none of the dogs moved, the circles carried them to stand in a row, connecting the edges of each glowing ring.

  Madame paced in front of Max, Rocky, and Gizmo. What do the rings mean? she asked.

  “They are a sign of what happened to us,” Max said, even though he didn’t fully understand.

  That’s right, Madame said. What’s more, the rings will be linked forever, if you let them. They were forged by all that you’ve been through. Do not let them break.

  A great tremor rose under Max’s feet, and he felt the earth shuddering and shifting. A boom came from behind them, and Max looked over just in time to see the silver wall buckle and fall to the ground.

  The great storm surged into the tent city, thundering toward Max and his friends. Hold on! Madame barked over the raging black tempest. Remember everything I’ve said. It’s almost time.

  Max awoke.

  Pale morning light spilled into the cool earthen den, prying open Max’s eyes.

  He yawned, then looked around. As usual, he was the last to wake—the burrow was empty, though he could hear the baby armadillos’ squeals of delight from outside.

  Crawling on his belly, Max made his way to the ditch at the burrow’s end and lapped up some of the warm, murky water that had pooled there from the last rain. Then, he squeezed himself out of the burrow, the stones scraping his back.

  It was very early. The sun was only just rising over the eastern horizon, but already the air was uncomfortably warm. Max rose to his full height, stretching his sore muscles and hoping Edwina would prove right about how close they were to the wall.

  “Can’t catch me, Urial!” one of the baby armadillos—Shuck—squeaked as she half ran, half waddled around the nearby bush.

  “Yes, I can!” her brother squealed back. He curled himself into a ball and rolled after her, and Hilty did the same.

  Max peered over the bush and found Gizmo and Rocky playing with the other baby, Abel, wagging their tails and rolling the little animal back and forth like a toy ball. Abel seemed to love it, and Edwina lay nearby, watching with amusement.

  “Good morning,” Max said. “And thank you again, Edwina, for letting us stay the night.”

  Rocky swatted Abel gently with his paws and sent the tiny armadillo in Gizmo’s direction.

  “You ready to go, big guy?” Rocky asked.

  “I’m more than ready,” Max said.

  Hilty, Urial, and Shuck stopped chasing one another and stared up at the dogs.

  “You have to leave?” Shuck asked.

  “But we’re playing!” Abel said, unfurling and clinging to Gizmo’s side with his claws.

  Gizmo’s ears drooped even as she licked Abel on the patch of hard armor that covered his forehead.

  With a grunt, Edwina rose on all fours and nosed each of her babies with her long snout. “Now, now,” she said, “it’s not polite to keep guests longer than they’d like. Go back in the burrow, my babies. I will show them out of the canyon, since they do not know its tunnels and turns, and then I’ll be back for you.”

  “Aw!” Urial said. “I wanna go, too!”

  Edwina nosed him harder, forcing the small armadillo to scoot toward their hidden home.

  “Our new friends need to be on their way,” she said. “And I’m afraid your tiny legs will be too slow to keep up. Say good-bye to Gizmo, Rocky, and Max, and stay inside while I’m gone.”

  “Bye-bye,” the four baby armadillos said sadly. Then they ducked their heads as they crawled one by one back inside their home.

  Gizmo whimpered as she watched them go, and Max walked over to nuzzle her side. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Gizmo said softly. “I’m a little worried about what will happen to us after we reach the wall.”

  “No need to worry,” Rocky said, his tail wagging. “I have a
good feeling about today.”

  Gizmo offered him a weak wag of her tail in return, but she said nothing else.

  Edwina led them single file through the mazelike passages etched into the canyon and back to the main path. The smell of coyote was everywhere, wild and angry. The animals were no longer in the cavern, that much Max could tell, but they’d clearly searched through every last nook and cranny before they’d left.

  Not long after the dogs and Edwina reached the main path, the ground rose, leading them back out into the wide, open desert.

  “This is as far as I can take you,” Edwina said, stopping at the base of the incline leading out of the canyon. “I don’t dare leave the shadows—not with the wild beasts out there.”

  “We understand,” Max said. “Thank you again for your help!”

  “Bye, Edwina!” Gizmo said.

  The armadillo mother nodded at the dogs, then turned to waddle away, back toward her children.

  Though it had been warm down in the canyon, the walls had at least provided some shelter from the sun. As the dogs climbed out of the canyon, heat overwhelmed them. A few feathery clouds drifted in the sky, not nearly enough to shade the desert from the unrelenting sun.

  But the sun didn’t matter anymore when, on the horizon, Max saw the barest glint of silver.

  The wall.

  It was real this time, not just part of a confusing dream. The wall that signified the end of their long journey was finally within sight.

  “Come on!” Max barked, already racing past cacti and skinny trees toward their destination.

  Tall utility poles ran in the direction of the wall, power lines strung between them. Next to the poles was an asphalt road coated with desert dust. Max bounded toward the road, his heart leaping at something he hadn’t seen since Dr. Lynn had driven off in a van many towns back.

  Fresh tire tracks.

  He ran down the center of the road, no longer caring that his fur was burning, that his throat was scratchy and dry, that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s meal of beef jerky. Rocky and Gizmo followed as fast as they could, but Max quickly left them behind, his long legs carrying him toward his people. His people!