Dead of Night

by Erin Hunter

  Storm turned back to her digging, scraping big chunks of earth out of the ground until Mickey and Rake were struggling to keep up.

  She didn’t find Breeze’s words comforting at all.

  Storm took Whisper’s front paw in her jaws, shuddering as the taste of blood bathed her tongue. She tried to be as gentle as she could, even though she knew she couldn’t hurt him anymore. Beta held Whisper’s scruff firmly between his teeth, and Bruno, Arrow, and Rake took hold of his other legs. They carried him awkwardly between them, but Storm was glad that they weren’t simply leaving it to Beta to drag him across the earth.

  The Pack, including Moon, who had been permitted to leave High Watch, was gathered around the hole between the mossy roots of the tree, waiting in silence as the dogs carried Whisper’s body to the edge of the pit and carefully lowered it down. Whisper’s paws folded neatly together as he sank down into the earth. With a gentle nudge, Lucky tucked the smaller dog’s head to his chest so that they couldn’t see the terrible wound in his throat. He looked just like a young pup, sleeping peacefully in his Mother-Dog’s den.

  Alpha sat at the end of Whisper’s grave, still and silent, until the five dogs had stepped back to join the crowd around the tree. As Storm backed away, Mickey stepped close to her side and gave her a tiny lick on her torn ear. “Well done,” he whispered.

  “Packmates, we are here to say good-bye to one of our own.” Alpha’s body was still, her neck and back as long and straight as her bulging belly would allow, but her voice wavered as she spoke. “Dear Whisper, who was taken from us far too soon. He was a good dog.”

  There were faint murmurs of agreement from the Pack. Storm saw Woody’s enormous tongue lolling from his jaws as he panted, perhaps thinking of some happy memory of his old Packmate. On the other side of the grave, Omega’s white fur was quivering as if she were standing in a strong wind, and she let out a tiny, quiet howl.

  “He was always willing to help. He always wanted the best for his Pack. His death leaves a deep wound in all of us.” Alpha blinked slowly, then turned her large eyes to her Beta and gave him a small nod.

  “My only comfort,” Lucky said, “is that he is with Earth-Dog now, running in the Forests Beyond.”

  Storm’s ears pricked up, and she saw several other dogs cock their heads to one side or look at Lucky in surprise. She’d never heard any dog talk about the “Forests Beyond” before.

  “You all know that before the Storm of Dogs, I was visited by the Spirit Dogs in my dreams,” Beta went on solemnly. “I haven’t had any of those dreams since Blade was defeated, except one. Right after the battle, I dreamed that I saw all our lost friends, running together as a Pack, in a bright-green land. Alfie, Martha, Spring . . . Fiery, and little Nose and Wiggle. They were safe, and they were happy.”

  Several dogs let out strangled whines and howls, remembering their lost kin and Packmates—Moon, Thorn, and Beetle leaned their heads together at the mention of Fiery and Nose, and Storm looked up at the canopy of the trees, thinking of her litter-brothers. Wiggle and Grunt—Fang, as he had been named by the Fierce Dogs—were they together in the Forests Beyond, playing like pups again, hunting alongside the Earth-Dog? It was a wonderful thought.

  “So Whisper’s gone there too?” Ruff spoke up.

  “Yes, I think so.” Lucky looked across to Twitch, who was standing on the other side of Alpha. Twitch stepped forward.

  “I know that some of us have had a hard time adjusting to life in Alpha’s Pack,” he said. The dogs of Twitch’s Pack stood slightly to attention, listening more keenly to their old Alpha than they had to Sweet. “But Whisper was liked and respected by all dogs—whichever Pack they started life in. I’m grateful that he had the chance to experience a happy life in a free, stable Pack, at least for a little while. After the horrors that we saw under Terror . . . I’m grateful that we all have that chance.”

  He stepped forward, and with his good front paw, he scraped a pawful of earth into the hole on top of Whisper’s body.

  “Good hunting, Whisper,” he murmured.

  Alpha and Beta added their pawfuls of earth next, each repeating Twitch’s solemn good-bye: “Good hunting, Whisper.”

  The rest of the dogs stepped forward one by one, Alpha’s Pack hanging back to let the dogs of Twitch’s Pack say their good-byes first. The older hunters went next, and then it was Storm’s turn.

  Storm scraped her lump of earth down on top of Whisper’s body and tried to say the words, but they caught in her throat. Forests Beyond or not, the fact was that Whisper was gone. Wiggle, Grunt, Fiery, Martha: the Earth-Dog had taken them all. Why was she so greedy? Why couldn’t she leave their Pack alone?

  “Good . . . good hunting,” Storm finally muttered.

  She stood back and watched as, one by one, the rest of the Pack filled in the ground over Whisper’s body—the other hunters, then the scouts, then the Patrol Dogs. Finally it was little Omega’s turn, and she shuffled forward and patted down the last of the earth on top of Whisper. She hung her head and took a breath, about to say the Pack’s final good-bye, when a yelp from Alpha made Storm jump.

  All heads in the clearing turned sharply to the swift-dog. Alpha winced, and her strong and noble stance sagged as she bent her nose low to the earth.

  What’s going on? Storm thought, too panicked to think clearly. Is Alpha in pain? Is something hurting her?

  “Is something wrong? Is it the pups?” Lucky barked, treading the ground anxiously.

  Alpha looked up, her large eyes wide. “Nothing’s wrong, Lucky,” she yapped. “But the pups . . . They’re coming now!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Storm paced from the hunters’ den to the camp entrance and back, again and again—as if treading over the ground would make the time pass faster somehow.

  An anguished whimper split the air around the camp. Storm’s paws shuffled to a clumsy halt, and as one the Pack Dogs who were sitting by their dens or the prey pile raised their heads and looked over to Alpha’s den. Apart from Thorn, Beetle, and Ruff—who had gone back out on patrol at Twitch’s request—every dog in the Pack was in camp. The anticipation was so thick that Storm thought she could taste it in the air. It made her fur stand on end.

  Birthing pups sounded awful. Storm gave a shudder and went back to walking back and forth, her pawsteps speeding up. Alpha was such a strong dog, but even she couldn’t suffer through this without crying out.

  Storm had no real idea of how it would happen, nor of how long it would take. Alpha had only been in the den for a short time—the Sun-Dog had moved only halfway down the sky—but it felt like forever to Storm. Some of the older dogs had tried to explain to the younger ones what was happening. Bruno said he’d been living with his litter-sister when she gave birth to her pups, and all this was completely normal. Storm knew he meant it to be reassuring, but she couldn’t help feeling a swell of admiration for all Mother-Dogs, and a rock-hard certainty that she never wanted to become one.

  At least Alpha had Moon with her—Moon had had pups of her own and knew what to do. The older dog’s reassuring voice could sometimes be heard from the den, in between Alpha’s yowls. But the sound was nothing next to the scent of Lucky’s panic, which burst over Storm’s nose whenever her wandering feet took her anywhere near the den.

  “Storm, will you sit down?” a dog snapped. Storm spun around to see Dart glowering down her long nose at her. “You’re going to wear out the grass pacing around like that, not to mention driving every dog crazy!”

  Dart’s only a scout dog. She can’t tell me what to do, Storm thought, but she knew that the slender brown-and-white dog was right. Storm picked a shady spot by the hunters’ den, trod a tight circle three or four times around, and flopped down, blowing out her breath in a frustrated huff.

  Alpha gave another loud howl, and Storm tensed with the urge to leap up again and run to her leader’s aid. But there was nothing that a big, clumsy, young Fierce Dog could do for Alpha right now. Storm squeeze
d her eyes shut, but that just seemed to make the sounds ring louder in her ears. She wanted to get up and walk again, or just leave the camp behind and run and run. She wished she’d thought of volunteering to patrol with Thorn and Beetle, even though she was a hunter.

  She felt trapped between Whisper’s grave and the pups’ den, between the end of a life and the beginning of new ones. It was as if the Spirit Dogs were panting over her shoulder, watching the Pack through her eyes, and waiting for her to do something. But what? What did they expect her to do?

  Suddenly her nose twitched as fear-scent overwhelmed her. She snapped her eyes open and saw Lucky walking toward her. He was panting as if he had been chasing deer, and his eyes were wild and bright. Alpha’s howls still rang out from the den.

  Storm was instantly on her paws. “What is it, Beta? Is Alpha okay?”

  Other dogs began to rush toward Lucky.

  “Beta, can we help?” Mickey asked.

  Lucky halted in front of Storm, and she could see that his legs were trembling.

  “Alpha is doing well.” He paused, then looked a little sheepish. “Moon made me leave.”

  “But Alpha—and—the puppies are definitely—” Sunshine faltered.

  “Everything is happening as Moon said it should.” Lucky sighed. “We just have to wait.” He turned abruptly, as if he had an itch he couldn’t wait to scratch, and paced away toward the other side of camp.

  The rest of the Pack dispersed, wagging their tails at the reassuring news, but Storm felt even worse than she had before. Lucky’s fear-scent was still thick in her throat, and the noises from the den were impossible to ignore.

  “Storm, are you all right?”

  Storm looked around sharply and found Twitch by her side. The Third Dog’s floppy ears were cocked lopsidedly with worry, and Storm nodded quickly.

  “I’m fine, Twitch.”

  “I know it can be frightening,” Twitch said. “It’s always hard when the Pack’s Alpha is hurting. But the pups will be here soon, and then Alpha will feel much better.”

  “Thank you,” Storm said, wishing that she felt more comforted. He couldn’t understand what was truly frightening her. Perhaps even if he did, he would still try to offer comfort—but she couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t only her fear for Alpha that was making her jump at every yelp or howl of pain.

  “Why don’t you take some dogs and go out on a hunt?” Twitch said. “Alpha doesn’t need all of us to sit around like lazy pups waiting for her—she’s certainly going to need fresh prey to eat when this is over.”

  Despite the weight of her fears, Storm’s ears pricked and she sat up straighter.

  “Really? You want me to lead a hunting party?”

  “Absolutely,” said Twitch. “I’m sure you’ll bring back something wonderful to help Alpha recover her strength.”

  “I will!” Storm promised. She cast her eyes around the Pack, and then trotted over to Mickey, who was watching them with interest. He hadn’t moved, but as she approached he got to his paws and shook out his long black-and-white fur. “Will you come hunting with me, Mickey? We need to find some prey for Alpha.”

  “I’d love to,” Mickey panted happily. “It’ll be good to stretch my legs.”

  “Is there a hunting party going out?” said another voice, and Storm turned to see Bella and Arrow padding toward them, shoulder to shoulder.

  “Yes. Storm’s leading it,” said Mickey, with a hint of pride.

  “We’ll come with you,” said Arrow.

  Storm blinked happily at them—three good hunters, plus herself. “We just need a scout dog,” she said, and looked around the camp, hoping she could ask Breeze or Daisy. But Dart was lying closer than the others, and when Storm’s eyes fell on her, she stood up and stretched.

  “I’ll be your scout,” she said.

  Storm tried not to look disappointed.

  The dogs set off slowly, casting glances back at the sound of Alpha’s whimpering. But as soon as she had the open hillside beneath her paws and the Wind-Dogs brushing against her fur, Storm’s heart lightened.

  Giving birth is something Alpha has to do herself, she thought. But we can help her!

  She wasn’t tired anymore, either, except for a lurking feeling behind her eyes that was easy to shake off as she broke into a run.

  “Let’s go to the meadow where you can see the lake,” she barked to Dart. The scout gave her a sharp nod and split away from the party, her spindly brown legs blurring as she put on a burst of speed. The scout dog vanished into a line of trees, but Storm led the other dogs on across the grass, keeping the Endless Lake on her right. Their pawsteps thudded heavily against the earth, sending up small sprays of sand that had blown up onto the cliffs from the shore.

  They soon arrived at the meadow and paused in the shadow of a large shrub to catch their breath. Storm sniffed the ground. There were often rabbits on this part of the cliff, and sometimes the big, lazy birds that flew over the Endless Lake made their nests here. She couldn’t scent any of the birds now, but there was a definite hint of rabbit, and something else . . . something tasty.

  Bella poked her muzzle carefully around the edge of the shrub, and then gave a low, quiet bark of satisfaction. “You’ve picked well, Storm! Look.”

  Storm peered over Bella’s shoulder and saw a tall creature with long, graceful legs. A deer!

  This was no spirit deer, either—the Wind-Dogs wouldn’t lead them on an endless chase like they had done last night. This one was real, and its delicious scent was carried to the dogs on a gentle breeze.

  I wonder if the real deer is here because the Golden Deer is nearby? Storm thought. Or is it just because it’s the first New Leaf since the longpaws went away?

  Whatever the reason, Storm was grateful to the Wind-Dogs and the Forest-Dog for bringing it here.

  Whisper had been on that hunt for the Golden Deer, too. Perhaps if she could catch this one and bring it back to the Pack to feed Alpha and her new pups, it would be a way to finish Whisper’s last hunt for him. It’s the least I can do, she thought, with a pang of sadness.

  Storm froze when she saw movement in the field. Had they spooked their prey? She peered around the shrub and saw that the deer was just pawing the ground with one hoof, as if digging for the tastiest plants. The creature was still upwind of them. It moved off from its grazing spot but didn’t turn and run.

  “Mickey, you take the left flank,” Storm whispered. “Arrow, you go right. Try to trap it, drive it toward us, and Bella and I will attack from behind.” She looked around for Dart. The scout dog was nowhere to be seen at first, and Storm thought that she must be off checking the surrounding area, until she spotted a flash of brown tail that swished underneath a bush on the other side of the meadow.

  Good, she thought, Dart’s seen the deer too—she’ll stay hidden unless she’s needed. At least, Storm hoped Dart would have the good sense to do that. . . .

  Mickey and Arrow melted into the undergrowth, their heads and tails low, treading carefully so their pawsteps wouldn’t disturb any dry twigs. Storm sank down to her belly and peered underneath the shrub, trying to guess which way the deer would turn next by the movement of its spindly legs. Bella crawled down beside her.

  “We’ll be able to get close,” Bella said, her voice barely a whisper. “We’ll just need to stick to the long grass.”

  Storm nodded her gratitude to the golden-furred dog. She trusted Bella’s judgment—on hunting, at least. And when it came to other things . . . well, if Bella and Arrow really wanted to spend all their time together and keep it from the rest of the Pack, Storm didn’t see why they shouldn’t, although she couldn’t really see the point, either.

  She focused on the deer, opening her mouth slightly and breathing as softly as she could as she and Bella crawled out from underneath the shrub and into the long grass of the meadow. Sunlight gleamed off the deer’s flanks.

  Storm’s nose twitched as she picked up the strong, earthy scent of rabbi
t, and something else too, faintly familiar on the back of her tongue. But she resisted the urge to follow her nose—the deer was in her sights, and it was the better prey. A burst of rabbits fleeing from their holes would definitely send it running off. . . .

  Suddenly the deer’s head snapped up, and a moment later it kicked its back legs clumsily in the air and turned to bolt straight toward Storm and Bella.

  What startled it? It can’t have scented us—we’re downwind!

  Storm surged forward, abandoning her stealthy position—it was useless now.

  Arrow broke through the trees on Storm’s left, his pointed ears pinned back in annoyance. On the other side of the meadow, Mickey sprang out from the shadow of a bush, his tail swishing in confusion.

  Storm focused on chasing down the charging deer, channeling her irritation into longer and more powerful strides. She swerved into the creature’s path. Perhaps she could still take it down. . . .

  But as soon as it spotted Storm, the deer reared up with a startled snort and bolted, moving as if the Wind-Dogs themselves were on its tail. It leaped between two trees and was gone.

  Just then Storm caught a scent, the same familiar one that she had smelled back in the long grass. Now she realized what that musty, strong smell was. Coyotes!

  Storm trembled, her tail instinctively clamping down between her legs. That had been the strange but familiar scent she had picked up in the grass! She forgot all about the deer as a vivid memory hit her—cowering under a bush, Mickey and Wiggle beside her, Lucky grabbing Grunt and dragging him into the mud with them, just in time. . . .

  The coyotes would have eaten us. They ate dogs—or at least, they ate defenseless pups.

  Storm shook herself and took a few clumsy but determined steps forward. She was no defenseless pup now.

  “Coyotes! Dirty coyotes!” Bella snarled, and raced past Storm, following the scent.

  Mickey barked too, and fell in step with the golden dog. “They made us lose our prey!”