Dogchild

by Kevin Brooks

  He stopped speaking then, peering intently down at the shoreline.

  What is it? I said, following his gaze.

  I thought I saw something in the mud.

  An eel?

  I dont know. I just thought I saw something moving.

  We both sat there in silence for the next few minutes, staring hard, scanning the black mud for any sign of movement, but there was nothing, not even an air bubble. But as Starry began talking again, we both kept watching, just in case.

  Anyway, he said, where was I?

  Waterholes, I reminded him.

  He nodded. They were few and far between, and most of them were little more than lifeless mudpools with just enough water to keep us alive. There were a few places with good water and some scatterings of life – patches of greenery, leaves growing on blackened shrubs, small animals and birds – but for the most part it was rare to see any other living things at all in the Deathlands---apart from the dogs, of course. The packs of Deathland dogs were always there, always following us. During the day they kept their distance, never coming within rifle range, but at night they were bolder. We had to post guards. Theyd take anything – food, bones, bits of hide and leather, even scraps of wood. And if the brutes could take a sick horse or an unguarded child---

  Starry hesitated, as if hede suddenly remembered who – and what – he was talking to.

  Sorry, Jeet, he said. I didnt mean —

  We all have to eat, I said, my voice colder than I meant it to be.

  I know. I was just saying —

  I know. Its okay. Carry on.

  After a moments silence, he continued.

  There were no horses left by the time we reached the Black Mountains. The last one had died a long time ago. The majority of our people had died in the Deathlands too. Of the thousand or so whode begun the retreat, there were less than 200 left when we came to the mountains, and many of those had been born during the Walk. Me, your mother, your father, you---we were all children of the Walk. And we were the lucky ones. Most of those born in the Deathlands didnt survive. And the Dau didnt fare any better either---they suffered their losses just as much as us. At the time of the ambush they were down to less than a thousand, and all their horses had long since died too.

  He went quiet again, gazing emptily at the shoreline for a minute or 2, then – without looking up – he carried on with the story.

  The canyon was the only way through the mountains. There were trails that led up and over them, but they were too steep and treacherous for the wagons, and if wede chosen to go all the way round the mountains it would have taken us a lot longer, and the Dau were only a few days behind us. If wede gone round, and the Dau had gone through the canyon, they would at the very least have made up a lot of time on us, and they may even have overtaken us, and then all they would have had to do was lie in wait on the other side and wipe us out when we got there. So the canyon was our only choice. We knew it was dangerous, an ideal place for an ambush, and our scouts had told us theyd seen evidence of the Wild Ones in the mountains, but there were very few of them left by then, and their bands never numbered more than a dozen anyway. So as long as we stayed together, it would be suicidal for them to attack us. But unfortunately we underestimated them. We knew they were ferocious and savage, but the fault we made was in mistaking their savagery for stupidity, and it was a mistake that ultimately proved fatal.

  Starry shook his head, and just for a second I sensed a deep-held anger in him, but it flickered and died almost immediately, and when he began speaking again – still staring blindly at the shore – he just sounded sad and resigned.

  The canyon was about 3 miles long and for the most part around 40 to 50 yards wide, but there were places where it was considerably narrower. The great black mountains towered so high above us that the canyon walls blocked out most of the light, and although it was the middle of the day, it was dark enough at times to feel like the middle of the night.

  He closed his eyes, and I could tell he was replaying the scene in his mind. I waited for him to go on, but his silence continued – he was just sitting there, perfectly still, his eyes closed, totally lost in his memories.

  How old were you then? I asked him quietly.

  He stirred at the sound of my voice, and his eyes opened. He blinked several times, then rubbed his eyes.

  What? he said.

  How old were you?

  I was 16---

  He momentarily squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again and shook his head, as if clearing something from his mind.

  I was 16, he repeated. Kesra, your father, was 15, and my sister Pooli – your mother – was 13. You were just a couple of months old. We were all with the same wagon. There were 3 of us pulling it – me, Kesra, and a cousin of his called Rahmat – and Pooli was in the back with you and another baby, a little girl called Jele. Jeles mother had died during childbirth and Pooli had taken her on. Wede been having some problems with the front axle of our wagon, and wede had to stop a few times to fix it, so when we reached the point where the ambush happened, we were some way behind the rest of the wagons. It was the narrowest part of the canyon wede come across so far, only just wide enough for a single wagon to squeeze through. At first I was pleased to see it. With all the wagons having to queue up to get through, the delay would allow us to catch up with everyone else, and once wede reached the back of the queue it would give us the chance to rest up for a while. But the closer we got to the pass, the more uneasy I became. I didnt know why, but something didnt feel right. There was something out of place. I couldnt work it out, and I kept looking all around – behind us, above us, in front of us, everywhere – trying to see what was wrong, but everything appeared perfectly normal. Kesra could see I was worried about something, and he started to ask me what it was, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, the wagon in front of us moved off, heading through the pass, and we hitched up our harnesses and began pulling the wagon forward to take its place. I was still looking around as the wagon in front of us edged slowly through the narrow gap, but I was beginning to tell myself not to worry anymore. Even if there was something wrong that I wasnt seeing, wede soon be passing through the gap ourselves, and once we reached the other side and joined up with everyone else, wede be safe.

  Starry stopped again, letting out a sigh, then went on.

  Wede just started moving towards the pass when I finally realized what it was that had been bothering me. It was still far from obvious, but if you looked really hard you could see there was something unnatural about the look of the canyon walls. The way some of the loose boulders and rocks were positioned---they were too precarious, too finely balanced. If theyd been like that naturally, they would have fallen years ago. As soon as I realized what it meant, I opened my mouth to shout out a warning, but I was too late. A bloodcurdling scream suddenly rang out from somewhere above us – the Wild Ones signal to attack – and a moment later all we could hear was the massive rumbling and thudding of vast boulders and slabs of rock crashing down into the canyon, filling the air with great clouds of dust---

  He slowly shook his head again.

  It felt like the end of the world, Jeet---like the whole mountain was coming down on us---and it seemed to go on forever. The air was black with dust. I couldnt see anything, couldnt breathe---everything was roaring and crashing all around me---and I remember hearing the shrieks and whoops of the Wild Ones as they came pouring down the canyon walls, screeching like devils---and then something hammered into my head. I dont know what it was---a piece of flying rubble, a rock from a Wild Ones sling---but it knocked me to the ground, and I think I blacked out for a few seconds---and when I came round again---

  He hesitated, struggling with the memory.

  I cant really remember anything after that. It was all just a blur of dust and darkness and terrifying screams---

  He sighed again.

  It wasnt until much later that I found out the Wild Ones had planned their ambush and ca
rried it out with so much care and precision that if it hadnt been for the dogs, it would have worked perfectly. The landslide theyd set up had completely blocked the narrow pass through the canyon, isolating our wagon from the rest, but barely damaging it at all. They knew exactly what they were doing. By cutting us off from the rest of our people, theyd nullified our one big advantage – safety in numbers. They werent outnumbered anymore. We were the ones who were outnumbered. No one knows for sure how many Wild Ones took part in the ambush – I never actually saw any of them – but its generally agreed now that there were only about 7 or 8 of them. But there were only 4 of us, including Pooli, and they also had the element of surprise. We never stood a chance. But as I said, I didnt find out any of that until later. I was so dazed and confused at the time – and frightened to death – that all I remember is stumbling through the dust, not really knowing where I was going, just heading instinctively towards the pass, or at least where I thought it was---

  As Starry went quiet, momentarily closing his eyes and letting out another weary breath, I knew what he was going to say next. I could feel it coming---I could feel his eternal guilt and sorrow rising up inside him.

  I never even thought of helping anyone else, he said softly. Kesra, Pooli, you, Rahmat---I just abandoned you all. The idea of staying with my family, of fighting with them---it never even entered my mind.

  He wiped a tear from his eye.

  I left you all to die, he muttered.

  You werent thinking straight, I told him, as Ide told him a hundred times before. Youd been knocked out, you were concussed —

  I was a coward.

  I said nothing. Wede talked about this so many times before that there was nothing left to say. There was no way of changing his mind. And besides – and again, this was something Ide thought about countless times before – it was possible that he was right, that he had been a coward that day.

  But even if he was, Ive never held it against him.

  We are what we are.

  Anyway, he continued, wiping his eyes again and clearing his throat, the dust was so thick that I couldnt see anything at all, so I didnt know that the canyon pass had been completely blocked off by the landslide, and it wasnt until I actually stumbled into the wall of boulders that I realized it was there. And it was then, just as the dust cleared for a moment and I saw the great pile of rocks in front of me, that I was hit by the first arrow. I didnt know what it was at first. I just felt a sort of thumping sting in my leg, and when I looked down I saw the feathered tail of an arrow sticking out of my thigh. It didnt seem to hurt all that much – at least I dont remember much pain – and when I began clambering up the boulders, and another arrow took me in the arm, that didnt seem to bother me much either. I just kept going, climbing blindly upwards. I was vaguely aware of the sounds of fighting coming from the wagon – screams and shouts, crying and wailing – and there were muffled shouts coming from the other side of the landslide too, but none of it seemed to mean anything to me. It all belonged to a different world. My world was just the dusty silence of the fallen boulders, the feel of the rock under my hands and feet as I climbed, and the absolute and only desire in my gut to keep going, to stay alive, to keep going, keep going, keep going---

  He went quiet again, staring way out into the distance, and then after some time he blinked ponderously and went on.

  The next thing I knew, he said emptily, I was lying in the back of a moving wagon and my leg had been amputated. It was only a few days after the attack, but the arrow wound had become infected so quickly that if my leg hadnt been taken off I would have died. I was still very ill, feverish and hallucinating, so it wasnt until some time later that I found out what had happened. The rest of our people – the ones whode passed through the gap before the ambush – had realized straightaway that wede been attacked, and as soon as the rocks had stopped falling theyd done their best to save us, climbing up and over the blockade as fast as they could, but by then it was too late. The wagon was already disappearing into the distance, moving at some speed, and there was no sign of anyone at all – your mother and father, Rahmat, you and Jele---you were all gone. It was assumed you were all in the wagon – the 2 men unquestionably dead, the rest of you probably still alive.

  Starry looked at me.

  The Wild Ones would have raised you and Jele as their own and kept your mother for breeding.

  And my father and Rahmat were just fresh meat, I added.

  Starry nodded. The Wild Ones knew every inch of the mountains, and there was no doubt they would have had an escape route planned, which meant that once theyd left the canyon and disappeared into the mountains thered be no chance at all of finding them. So our people took off after them, running as fast as they could. They must have known it was pointless, that theyd never catch up with the Wild Ones, but they kept going, more in hope than anything else---and then all at once they saw the wagon veering sharply to one side, almost toppling over, and then suddenly it stopped. It was about a quarter of a mile ahead of them at the time, and at first they couldnt work out what was happening, but then they saw the dogs. There were dozens of them, at least 30 or 40, the largest pack of Deathland dogs anyone had ever seen. And they seemed to have appeared from nowhere. One minute there was no sign of them at all, and then all of a sudden they were everywhere, tearing into the Wild Ones and the wagon like a horde of crazed demons. Whether it was the smell of blood that had attracted them and sent them into a frenzy, or they were just mad with hunger---

  He glanced at me, as if looking for an answer.

  I just shrugged.

  Well, anyway, he went on, whatever it was, by the time our people reached the wagon there was virtually nothing left. The dogs had gone. The Wild Ones had gone. Your father and mother, Rahmat, you and Jele---just gone. All that was left was the bloodstained wagon, a few scraps of flesh, and clouds of flies buzzing in the heat.

  He wiped sweat from his brow.

  Our people found me on their way back. Ide passed out and fallen down into a gap between some boulders, and luckily one of our men heard a faint groan as he was clambering back to the other side. They pulled me out, carried me back over the rockfall with them---

  Starry turned and looked at me.

  And thats just about it really. Thats as much as I know of the story from the outside, or at least as much as I can manage for now. The rest of it is yours, Jeet. And only you can---

  He stopped suddenly, his attention drawn to the beach, and he swore violently under his breath. I didnt have to ask him what hede seen. I could see it myself. A small girl, no more than 3 years old, had appeared on the beach – seemingly from nowhere – and was skipping down towards the shoreline, stopping every now and then to pick up pebbles that caught her eye.

  Its Sheren, Starry muttered. Laolys little girl.

  She was lost in her own small contentment, totally oblivious to potential dangers, and completely unaware of the vast black head that had risen from the oily ooze at the shoreline – a head dripping with black slime, its small yellow eyes gleaming like glass, its half-open mouth showing rows of brightwhite needlelike teeth.

  Even as Starry opened his mouth to yell out a warning, the giant eel launched itself from the pool of black mud and began streaking across the beach towards the little girl.

  As I leaped down off the wall and began racing across the beach, the dog in me instinctively took over – heightening my senses – and I could see and hear everything all at once and with perfect clarity. I could see little Sheren, alerted by Starrys warning shout, looking over at him, then seeing me running towards her, her previously happy face fading into an expression of confusion and wariness. And then – as she heard or sensed the eel, and looked round to see it arrowing towards her across the beach – her wariness turned to outright terror. The eel was about 20 feet long and 2 feet thick, and it was moving incredibly fast, not snaking or slithering, just streaking across the sand like a great black spear. I heard a scream then, not from She
ren but from a young woman of about 15 or 16 whode just appeared at the top of the beach. It was Laoly, Sherens mother. I saw Sheren turn at the sound of the scream, and I saw Laoly waving wildly and yelling at her daughter to run to her, but Sheren was too petrified to move.

  A gunshot cracked loudly from behind me.

  Starrys pistol.

  The eel kept going.

  I kept running.

  I had my knife in my hand now, and I was running so fast my feet were barely touching the ground, but I knew I wasnt going to make it. Despite my speed – and although Ide never been able to keep up with the dogs when they were running at top speed, I could still easily outrun any human – the eel was faster than me. And it was already closer to Sheren than I was.

  I was maybe 10 yards away from her now.

  The eel was no more than 5.

  I heard another gunshot, but this time it didnt sound right – too loose and cracky – and at the same time I heard a yell of pain from Starry. I knew what had happened – his ancient Dragoon had blown up in his hand – but I gave it no conscious thought. The eel was almost upon Sheren now. She was frozen to the spot, petrified, not even making a sound. Just standing there, as if she knew it was already over. Her mothers screams had turned to hopeless sobs.

  As the eel closed on Sheren, I fleetingly thought about throwing my knife at it, but it was moving so fast that even at close range I couldnt be sure of hitting it square in the head, which was the only way of stopping it, and if I threw the knife and missed, my only chance of killing the beast was gone. It was probably gone anyway. The giant eel was lunging at Sheren now, its monstrous jaws wide open, and I was still a few yards away.