The man with the light opened the back door, then turned and stared up at the big black mountain for a moment. Finally, he ducked into the back seat, and my opportunity to help him drove rapidly away.
I decided that there was no sense in continuing my search for friendly people. Everyone in this town was more interested in taking car rides than they were in stopping to see if a good dog was hungry. I had seen some dogs, their noses to the cracks of car windows as they sped by in the downpour, but they didn’t bark at me, and I didn’t bark at them. I wondered if they were reacting to all the tension, because it was very unusual, in my experience, for dogs not to challenge my presence, especially when they were on a car ride and I wasn’t.
I turned back in the direction from which I’d come, deciding to return to Big Kitten and wait out the storm. Perhaps the cars would come back once dry weather returned. If not, we would all keep moving to Lucas.
The town’s sounds had gone oddly quiet, now that the vehicles had all driven off. The thunder of the rain was the only dominant noise. My senses told me the houses had emptied out. It was as if everyone, all at once, had decided to flee, though I could discern nothing dangerous.
I was listening so intently I was startled at the blast of a motor, starting up fairly close to me. The air filled with a familiar rumble, one I associated with the truck that Mack liked to ride around on with his friends. I wagged, remembering going for a car ride on the top of Mack’s truck. I watched alertly, feeling the vibration in my chest as the loud noise moved slowly my way, coming at me from down the street. I wagged again when a pair of lights blinked on at the front of the approaching vehicle.
I instinctively inhaled, searching for familiar odors from the big truck.
But instead I smelled something completely different, a scent from back up the hill where I had left my cat family.
Alarm jolted through me.
I knew that smell.
It was another cat, a cat like Big Kitten. The large, vicious male who had hunted my kittens was up there. He had found us, and I had no doubt what he planned to do.
The fur rose on my back as I remembered the intensity with which the male cat had pursued us, his focus on Boy Kitten, my kitten, his prey.
At the same moment, I heard my name being called.
“Bella!”
I snapped my head around, startled, as the big truck drew up next to me. It came to an abrupt halt, its tires biting the loose, wet gravel. A man swung down from the open door, his boots making twin splashes as he landed.
Mack!
“Bella!” he called again. “Is that you? Come here, Bella!”
I stared at him, then turned and looked back up the hill. I was torn. A man was calling me and clapping his hands together and a good dog would go to him. Mack was my friend, and I knew Lucas would want me to obey.
If I trotted over to Mack, he would praise me and offer me treats and take me on a car ride on the roof of his big truck. He would deliver me to Lucas, and I would be Go Home. I would no longer be a lost dog, I would be a good dog with a Lucas blanket and a soft place on the bed. It was everything I wanted.
But that would mean leaving Big Kitten and her cubs behind to face the certain threat of the big male killer who was stalking them.
That was the choice facing me now, a choice so stark it hurt. I could not leave my cat family to face the predator alone, which meant doing something unthinkable: I turned my back on Mack and ran, cringing at the implications of my decision.
“Bella!” he shouted at me. “Come!”
I kept running.
Thirty
Mack’s cries echoed in my ears as if he were still calling to me, though once I scrambled up the wet, slick slope, he stopped shouting my name. Lucas wasn’t the only person who had an invisible leash on me—anyone, any person calling my name, pulled me as surely as if I were tethered to the end of a rope. If a person knows a dog’s name it means they have a right to use it.
I felt like a bad dog.
But I couldn’t turn around and go back to my good human friend. I could not honor his command to do Come because I was sliding and stumbling, finding treacherous footing as I climbed the slippery rocks. I was focused on the unmistakable scent of the predator cat, now commingled with Big Kitten’s. I had left Big Kitten alone to deal with the deadly threat of the larger animal. Panting, I desperately followed my nose up the rain-drenched, blackened slope.
A loud snarl ripped through the air, and it was not Big Kitten. The battle had already begun. I crested the ridgeline, dedicated to nothing less than finding and saving my cat family.
I dodged around an enormous boulder and skidded to a halt in the mud. Before me, in a tight but open space in front of a jumble of rocks, Big Kitten was making her stand. She stood with one paw lifted from the ground, her lips pulled back from her teeth. Boy Kitten and Girl Kitten cowered behind her.
Crouched in front of her was the male cat, even larger than I remembered. His claws were extended and his mouth opened to show wicked fangs. Big Kitten slashed once, then again, cutting only air, while the male, just out of reach, hissed with dark malevolence. He was not backing away. He was hungry and determined to have his prey. He darted out his own paw in a murderous swipe so near Big Kitten’s face I thought she had been struck.
My instinct was to run forward and leap on the attacker, but his claws were impossibly long and sharp. As they sliced through the air again, frighteningly close to Big Kitten, she jerked her head back. A swat from the big male would end the struggle with one blow.
If I attacked straight-on like a dog, I would be killed. But I was not going to let Big Kitten face the hunter alone. I remembered the lumbering, stinky predator who came after the kittens when I was with Dutch. Dutch knew that if he circled around the back and assaulted from the rear, the enemy would give up the fight. It was how dogs did things—if your attacker was larger and more ferocious and you had a pack, you surrounded it.
The cat caught sight of me sneaking forward, and his eyes widened. Now there were two enemies for him to face.
Big Kitten slashed at the male as I darted around behind him, and I bared my teeth and lunged, snarling, aiming for the base of his tail. The cat whipped around and I knew he had me, but even as he raised his paw Big Kitten pounced and swiped at him with her own claws, raking his shoulder. The big male bellowed and turned to face her and I darted forward again, my teeth tearing at his rear leg until I dodged away.
I saw out of the corner of my eye that Girl Kitten had impulsively joined the fray. Her face was fierce as she came out from behind her mother to get at the big male.
No! She’d be killed!
Big Kitten and I charged at the same time, both of us directly at the male, and it was too much for the huge cat. Though he was in a perfect position to strike me, he instead turned and scampered away.
I wanted to pursue, but Big Kitten didn’t move, so I stopped. It was more important to stay with the cubs than it was to chase a threat farther away.
Boy Kitten and Girl Kitten seemed overjoyed to see that I had returned from the town of panicky people. I sensed their relief as I endured their jubilant greeting. They had been hunted and survived the attack, and now I was back with them.
Big Kitten was not as elated. She stared at me, and I wondered if she was disappointed that I hadn’t jumped on the big cat’s back. But then she lowered her head and pushed it against me, and I knew that she still loved me.
I could smell the male cat out there, even with the rain tamping down his scent, but the distance continued to grow—he was still on the move away from us. I remained vigilant, standing in the rain and staring off in the direction he had fled until I caught no trace of him in the mist.
With the danger truly gone, I decided to return to town. I still felt like a bad dog. If Mack wanted to take me for a car ride, now, I would go.
I sniffed the kittens, who obviously had no sense that this was goodbye. Mack’s car ride was about to take me back to Lucas, so I
would not be returning to them again. But they were safe—the predator had been chased off by dog and cat. They had their real mother to protect them.
Big Kitten was impassive as ever, staring at me unwinkingly as I went to her, wagging. All this time with a dog, and she still didn’t know how to behave around one.
I would miss my cat family so much. But I had said goodbye to Dutch and Gavin and Taylor, and would say goodbye to anyone, even Big Kitten, if it meant doing Go Home to my boy.
With one last glance at the frolicking kittens and my good friend, I trotted away.
Big Kitten made no effort to follow me.
I journeyed back to the ridge of rock from which I could see everything below. Something remarkable had happened in the few moments I had been engaged with the predator. Down below me, the outside lights of the small houses and buildings were beginning to glow with more force as the sun left the sky. It was still raining but the sounds of cars in water had ceased. From where I stood, and from what my nose told me, there were no cars left in town at all. Everyone had decided to take their dogs and go for a car ride. Even Mack’s truck had left. The whole town was completely devoid of people, movement, and any life at all. No dogs barked. The only sound was the steady drone of rain showers landing on roofs and roads.
Was the fire coming back? Was that why everyone left? Clearly the black mountain across from me, looming up to my side, had been stripped of plant life by flames, which I had come to believe meant the flames would not be coming back—they never seemed to return to a place that had been denuded by fire. But with all the pointing and frantic movements and shouting, it was obvious the people were afraid of something up there.
I wondered what had happened and what I should do now. The option to get on the truck with Mack and take my own car ride no longer seemed to exist. I decided I should climb back down into town and see if there were bins with food that I could knock over and perhaps bring a meal back for Big Kitten and her family. Certainly, there was no danger of being struck by a passing vehicle.
I began picking my way down the slope again when I felt a sudden transformation, as if the air itself had snapped in two. I saw and smelled nothing, but I had the sense that everything was changing. I halted, bewildered by the strange sensation. And then I saw something I could not understand.
Over on the hulking black mountain, the skinny trees that were sticking so forlornly up toward the sky all at once began falling forward. As they did, the ground in which they were rooted began sliding downhill as if the mountain’s surface was turning into a river. Beneath my feet, the soil was shaking and heaving, though in contrast to the steeper slopes across the way, nothing was moving. I instinctively turned around and scrambled frantically back up to the ridge, my whole body seized by a thunderous vibration, louder than anything I had ever experienced. When I reached the ridgeline, I whirled around and watched in utter amazement as the entire face of the mountain gathered itself and with ferocious speed slammed into the town. Houses flattened and the lights all went out and I saw rooftops separate from homes and splinter under a wall of mud and trees and rock. Everything was smashed with such vicious force that when a wooden fence snapped into the air like the tail of a cat, it landed far from where it had started. Poles fell, a boat split in pieces—nothing was spared, everything was scattered as the overwhelming punch took buildings and trees and forcefully laid waste to them all.
I was shocked. I had seen something much the same before, but with snow, not liquified soil. The day I met Dutch, a whole mountain had collapsed, burying a man who I’d helped Dutch try to dig out. Gavin and Taylor arrived to assist and then Dutch and I went to live with the two men.
I lifted my nose. Gavin and Taylor were not here now, and neither was Dutch, despite the similarities.
The sight of the black mountain taking aim at the town and destroying everything in its path was so dreadful and inexplicable I wanted to turn away, even though the destruction had ceased. I left the ridge and ran to the lair, but Big Kitten had fled the shaking and roar. She and the kittens were gone.
Big Kitten was faster than I was, though her cubs slowed her down. I focused on finding her, tracking her scent, and after a time caught up to where she and the cubs were cowering in the rain.
I went to them and tried, by wagging, to let them know that while I had no comprehension of what I had just witnessed, I did not feel like we were in any danger. Eventually, the tension left them, and Girl Kitten invited me to wrestle.
The night was dark and wet with the steady rain. We found a hollow in the rocks and Big Kitten did not hunt, though she was awake, staring out at nothing, until near dawn. Was she worried the male cat would return? I could detect no sign of him in the misty air. I curled up with the cubs.
In the morning, most of the storm had dissipated, leaving the sound of drips and the gurgle of small streams to replace the ceaseless patter.
I wanted to see in daylight what I had witnessed unfold during the night. I returned to the ridge and looked down at where there had once been a town, but now I saw almost nothing but mud, rocks, debris. Along one street, houses still stood, untouched, but the rest of the dwellings were sagging relics of the structures they had once been, or were gone completely, swept away by the anger of the black mountain.
I decided to make my way down there because I still felt guilty about disobeying Mack. I could not smell him, but I thought I could find the place where I had last seen him.
I hoped that he and his friends in the truck had not waited for me. Mack loved me and would want to take me back to Lucas, but the devastation by the black mountain would not have spared his truck.
In the valley, I did not find Mack, nor could I locate the place where I had seen him. Everything was buried in a huge layer of mud. Around the fringes lay fragmented remains of what had once been buildings full of people.
I found no life, no dogs or humans, but I found no death, either. Everyone and everything was gone. I circled the edge of the enormous pile of rubble, aimlessly exploring, distressed by the magnitude of the devastation.
My searching led me to a mostly intact structure that had been broken cleanly in half. From inside it, a delicious scent came to me.
I cautiously approached. I could smell plants, I could smell milk, I could smell meat. I could smell cheese. No animals, no people, but food.
I gingerly climbed inside the ruined building, conscious of dripping noises and tantalizing odors. Soon I arrived at a huge, refrigerator-like box that had been toppled. Inside, I saw solid pieces of cold meat.
I pulled one out. It was big enough to share—I could barely lift it—so I wasted no time in making the slow, steep climb back to Big Kitten and her cubs.
The felines were grateful for the meal, but when I turned to retrace my steps for more hunting, Big Kitten did not want to go. She stared expressionlessly when I gazed back over my shoulder in a clear beckoning—a gesture I had learned from her. I was frustrated, but, recalling the broken building with the delicious meats, I decided to revisit the place on my own.
And then something unexpected happened. I glanced back behind me and Big Kitten was sitting and not moving, but the cubs made a decision. First Girl Kitten, and then Boy Kitten, bounded after me.
This was not good. We were no longer a cat family separated from Big Kitten. We were reunited with their real mother. The cubs should remain with her.
But they had made their choice.
Thirty-one
Boy Kitten and Girl Kitten were clearly confused. Since Big Kitten had first disappeared, I had served as their mother cat. They’d followed me in the day, slept with me at night. A dog always leads a pack, but this was more than that: their survival had depended on them doing what I did. So when I headed back for town, they felt compelled to stick with me.
I, too, was confused. When forced to choose between people and the cubs, I had picked my cat family. I still missed Lucas, but I had deliberately decided to remain a lost dog when I co
uld have run to Mack and gone for a car ride back to my boy.
I glanced over my shoulder as I reached the point where the hill met the jumble of debris and mud that had been the town. The kittens were still scampering after me, trusting me.
The sight of them warmed me the way a t-i-i-iny piece of cheese warmed me, made me feel loved.
My nose told me before I turned and looked that Big Kitten was now reluctantly tracking us, following her cubs, who were following me. I picked a now-familiar path around the wreckage, licking my lips at the thought of what awaited us.
Big Kitten paused several steps from the ruined building, not trusting anything made by human hands even as I climbed confidently into the half-collapsed space. Her cubs had no such compunction and bounded after me. They were as delighted as I had been to find the cabinet full of cool, delicious meat. Soon we were all feeding greedily.
Drawn by eating noises, Big Kitten crept forward until she stood just outside, where the wall had been torn from the rest of the building. For me, it was an open doorway to a meal; to her it smelled of people and therefore danger. I could tell that she wanted to come in out of the light rain, but she didn’t think it was worth the risk.
When it became obvious that she couldn’t be tempted to join us, I decided I wasn’t doing a good job of taking care of my friend. She was a member of my pack and was watching us with hungry eyes. I clamped my jaws down on a large piece of meat with a bone in it. I dragged it across the floor to her, and she accepted my gift, lifting it easily with her immense strength. Her kittens, meanwhile, had found fish and were delightedly feasting on it. I like fish but it’s not my preference when fresh meat is available. The felines who lived across the street with the cat lady always had fish on their breath, so I knew it was a cat favorite.
After eating, I was tired and joined Big Kitten. I lazily watched her sniffing suspiciously at the twisted metal and broken glass outside the building. I wasn’t very interested when she found a hard, white ball and began clawing at it. The thing was much too large for me to get my mouth around. The smell of turkey reached me, and I sniffed the air curiously. Big Kitten began batting impatiently at the thing, and it went skittering out across the mud. She pounced on it, gnawing at it and hitting it again.
A Dog's Courage--A Dog's Way Home Novel Page 22