Survivors: Darkness Falls Part 9

Wiggle shuffled close to him, burying his small dark head against Lucky. In moments he was breathing deeply, his eyes shut and his lips parted. Lucky closed his eyes too, but his ears stayed alert, listening to the sounds of the forest.

A howl echoed in the distance. Instantly Lucky sprang to his paws, eyes wide as he sniffed the cool night air. The pups yipped in alarm and Lucky was quick to silence them.

"It's okay," he soothed. "Whatever made that noise is far away. But we need to be very quiet and not draw its attention."

"What is it?" Mickey asked. Lucky could just make out the Farm Dog's shape in the darkness.

"I'm not sure," Lucky told him. "It sounded like a dog, but not quite . . ."

Mickey gave a nervous whine. "A wolf?" he asked.

Lucky had heard wolves before, and he shuddered at the memory. "I hope not."

There was another long howl, which was joined by more voices. They seemed to be closer than the first howl. The hairs p.r.i.c.kled along Lucky's neck and his heart thumped in his chest.

"There are lots of them!" whined Mickey.

"We'll be okay, but we must get moving." He nudged the pups with his snout and they scrambled to their paws, dazed and scared. "Mickey, you stay to one side of the pups, and I'll be on the other." He sniffed the air but could not pick up a scent.

"Have they smelled us?" asked Lick.

"No, I don't think so," Lucky murmured. "They don't know we're here."

"You're not going to leave us, are you, Lucky?" Wiggle whimpered.

"We're going to be by your sides the whole time," Lucky promised. "There's nothing to fear. Just stay quiet and keep moving-we'll soon find somewhere safe to rest." Lucky hoped he sounded rea.s.suring, even though he was telling them a lie. The creatures they had heard sounded large and dangerous.

No dog spoke after that. They walked silently through the forest, the pups scrambling over fallen leaves, twigs, and thorns. Lucky knew it was hard for them, but he wanted to keep all his senses sharp and it would be easier to do that if he was not carrying a pup.

He could smell a sharp odor in the air-it smelled a little like wolf-stink, and also fox, but something told him these creatures were neither.

And a cold fear told him that whatever they were, they had caught the dogs' scent. He could hear leaves crunching beneath paws, could smell the sharp odor getting closer.

"Wait!" Mickey yelped, as he stalked low behind the pups.

Lucky turned to him quickly. "What's wrong?"

"It's Wiggle. He's falling behind."

"He's really tired," yipped Lick. "He's not used to walking this fast, or this far." Lucky guessed that none of the pups were, but the female's eyes flashed with proud resilience, and Grunt jutted his pointy snout out alongside her.

Lucky was ashamed that he had not noticed. Now he could hear the smallest pup's labored panting. Mickey and Lick were right-Wiggle was tired.

"Here," he said gently. "I'll carry you for a while. Mickey, you will need to be my eyes and ears." The black-and-white dog dipped his head in acknowledgment, a shadow of dark fur against branches. Then Lucky scooped up Wiggle gently between his jaws. They all froze as they heard a strange voice.

"This way!" The voice was nasal and bra.s.sy. Lucky felt his whole body turn to stone.

"Smells dogsie-pets, smells them close."

"Cubs! Smells cubs!"

Lucky's heart lurched and he almost dropped Wiggle in shock. He knew what they were now-a Pack of these beasts had once entered the city, snarling and growling. Only longpaws carrying sticks had been enough to chase them away.

Coyotes! Those fierce, sneaky creatures that feast on frail animals. They're swift and spiteful too. They must have picked up the smell of pups. They think they're onto an easy meal.

"Stay quiet," he told the others. Then he lifted his snout into the air as he tried to untangle the coyotes' scents. Six of them, at least. More than enough to isolate and overwhelm Lucky and Mickey-and more than enough to steal a pup.

I cannot let these pups end up like Fuzz, Lucky thought with a pang of anguish.

"We need to pick up the pace," he urged.

"I smell them too," Mickey whispered. "Do you think we can outrun-"

Lucky gave a quick shake of his head to silence the Farm Dog. He didn't want to say the word coyote in front of the pups; it would only scare them. Mickey blinked once, to show his understanding. Lick and Grunt pranced forward, scrambling over the jumble of debris on the forest floor. They pa.s.sed through a tunnel of narrow-trunked trees at the top of a low hill before dipping toward denser foliage.

If we can get downwind of them in the deep forest we may be able to lose them.

They made good progress, and Lucky thought his plan was going to work. But then he heard Lick panting and whimpering behind him. He looked back and saw that she was struggling over the rough ground. Her latest surge of energy seemed to have run dry. Even Grunt was showing signs of weariness, his short tail hanging low as he trudged on determinedly.

"This won't work," Mickey murmured. He was even lower to the ground now, his body melting into the sinews of the forest. "I think they're after the pups. We should all mask our scents, then hide and wait for them to pa.s.s."

Lucky nodded. "How do we-"

"Hide?" Grunt snarled. "A Fierce Dog never hides!"

Lucky's ear twitched. So Grunt knew they were different from other dogs. What else did the pup know?

Mickey ignored him, diving down into the dirt and mulch of the forest floor, where he rolled repeatedly. Then he sprang to his paws and pressed against the trunk of a nearby tree, rubbing his back, tail, and muzzle.

Lucky was impressed. He hadn't expected Mickey to have such clever survival skills. The Farm Dog had come a long way since they had first met in the city.

He imitated Mickey, dropping low and rubbing his belly against fallen leaves. "Pups, do what we do. And you must resist the urge to wash yourselves."

The puppies started rolling, kicking up dirt. Even Grunt cowered down and buried his snout beneath some leaves, allowing Lucky to cover him with twigs and soil.

"That's good," whispered Mickey. "Now we need to be very quiet and very still." He took the lead, scrambling beneath a bush, flattening himself on the forest floor. "Come close," he added. Lick did as she was told, squeezing her body next to Mickey's, little Wiggle at her side.

Grunt made no move to lie down. "I'm not hiding from any dog," he snarled. He started to walk away from the bush, toward the low hill with its gateway of thin-trunked trees.

"Where's go cubs?"

"Close, cohorts. Smell cubs . . ."

Lucky choked back a whimper of fear, lunging toward Grunt and shoving him into the undergrowth. The pup struggled and Lucky threw his weight against him, feeling Grunt's muscles rippling and flexing beneath his fur. He was already a very strong dog.

"Your bravery is admirable, Grunt," Lucky murmured, his muzzle at the pup's ear. "But this isn't the time. These aren't dogs; they're coyotes looking for a fight. We have to stay silent. This is serious."

Lucky felt the pup shudder. "Coyotes? What are they?" he asked, as the beasts drew nearer, rounding the low hill.

"I eats the cubs. Starts with the tender snouts!" hissed one of the coyotes in its raspy voice.

"I crunch the tails!" added another.

Grunt started trembling. Lucky felt a wave of compa.s.sion for him-the tiny Fierce Dog acted tough, but he was just a pup, feeling a pup's fear.

Please, wise Forest-Dog, thought Lucky. These pups have already lost their Mother-Dog. Let them get through this night. . . .

The coyotes gathered at the top of the hill among the tall trees, sniffing and circling. They had thickly furred bodies like wolves, and their legs were long and narrow. Their large pointed ears cut jagged outlines on the dark horizon and their sharp smell turned Lucky's stomach. He remembered Old Hunter telling him about coyotes as they rested by the Food House in the city-how they were sneaky, opportunistic killers, known to eat sharpclaws and s.n.a.t.c.h pups from their Mother-Dogs. Well, they weren't getting these pups!

"They're heres . . . Smells young dogs."

"Not heres . . . Escapes. Escapes, Mangles, how?"

"This ways; they gone. Cohorts, follow!"

The last coyote that spoke-the one called Mangles-was particularly tall. Its shape was lithe and wiry as it spun on its paws. Its tail was a stump of fur, as though it'd lost the end of it somehow. It started running back through the thin-trunked trees, down the hill toward the path.

If they hold the scent, Lucky thought hopefully, they will eventually be taken all the way to the Dog-Garden. . . .

Soon the coyote Pack had disappeared from sight and finally even their sharp, peaty odors had faded on the night air.

When he was certain that the danger had pa.s.sed, Lucky rose to his paws.

"They've gone," he said, panting with relief.

"What were they?" asked Mickey. "They looked like Alpha, but thinner."

"Coyotes," replied Lucky with a shudder. "I don't know much about them."

"I already know more about them than I want to," Mickey barked. He gazed out through the dark tangles of vines and branches. "We should keep moving."

Lucky turned to the pups. "You all did really well, and I'm sorry that we won't be able to go back to sleep just yet. We need to keep moving until the Sun-Dog appears. We'll take it slowly, and we'll look out for one another. The Pack of dogs that we're going to meet has a camp by a large lake, under some rocks. There'll be shelter and food there. What do you say?"

Grunt was the first on his paws, nudging his sister and brother. "Come on, you two!" he yipped as they rose more slowly.

Lucky led the way, with Mickey dropping to the back of the group, watching in case the coyotes reappeared.

Lucky focused on sniffing out a safe route through the trees. When he turned back to check on the pups he was pleased to see how helpful Grunt had become, encouraging his littermates with shunts of his snout and enthusiastic licks.

Lucky was grateful, but he still felt ill at ease. They'd survived their encounter with the coyotes, but Grunt had refused to hide. Lucky remembered how the pup had squirmed beneath him. He doesn't like taking directions, Lucky thought. And he has more energy than he knows what to do with. Grunt was a survivor-Lucky could see that-but he was also a risk taker.

And taking risks could get a dog killed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Lucky sank onto his belly on the rough soil at the bottom of the rocky overhang. It was where the united Pack had settled after their journey through the forest. He'd worked so hard to get the pups here, and now . . .

It was deserted.

He scanned the area, searching for signs of the Pack, and let out a long whine, his tail limp and his ears low. The Pack had disappeared. There was no dog to greet him, no yaps or barks. Even Alpha, with his snarling, wolfish face, would have been something.

Mickey appeared at Lucky's side, sniffing the rocky earth.

"Where have they gone?" asked the black-and-white dog. Lick, Grunt, and Wiggle stood behind him, panting.

Lucky sighed. "I don't know . . . they must have left not long after I did. There's barely any trace of them."

Lick sprang up to Lucky excitedly. "Is there food here?" she yapped, glancing around.

Lucky didn't answer and Mickey brushed past him, stepping beneath the overhang, trailing his muzzle over the ground, stopping to sniff deeply or lick the occasional clump of dirt or pebbles. Lucky watched him, noticing the scuffle of paw marks in the dirt. He tried to match them to different Pack members. There were large, heavy imprints that he thought could have been Martha's, but the rest were unclear. A smudge of small prints cut through some other marks, then vanished in a muddle of soil: Suns.h.i.+ne? Daisy? It was pointless trying to guess.

Lucky could scarcely bear to lift his head. He had made a point of waking the others before the Sun-Dog reached its highest point, leading them back to the Pack's camp. As Wiggle had whimpered about his sore paws, Lucky had raised the pup's spirits by telling him tales of Packmates to play with, and more food than he could eat. It hadn't exactly been the truth-the Pack had complained about the grainy soil and absence of prey-but he had hoped they would have settled in and found some by now.

"You'll love the Pack," Lucky had told the pups. "Martha will teach you how to swim and Fiery is a great hunter. You'll learn a lot from him." It had twisted his gut to talk of the Pack, but what choice did he have? He had to make sure that the pups took to their new home. Without the safety of other dogs, they would be dead in days; he was sure. That was a.s.suming that the Pack even agreed to take the young dogs. Lucky hadn't allowed himself to consider the possibility that they would not. But surely, even if the Pack didn't want Lucky back, they would never refuse these motherless pups.

How could the Pack just have vanished? Lucky thought with a s.h.i.+ver. The abandoned shelter looked dark and empty beneath the overhang without the flurry of other dogs. Wiggle scampered closer, wide-eyed.

"You said it was safe," he yipped, his short tail hanging between his legs. "It doesn't look very safe to me."

"I know; I'm sorry," Lucky replied. "When we left the whole Pack was here. We should be able to pick up their scents; we can follow them."

But in his head, he added: Do these pups have the strength to keep going? And could there be danger nearby? Is that why the Pack seems to have left in such a hurry?

Lucky swallowed a whimper and rose abruptly to his paws, shaking off the sense of dread that coursed through his tired limbs. He approached Wiggle, licking the top of the pup's head.

"The camp has been moved," he told him, "but we'll find it-won't we, Mickey?"

The Farm Dog barked in agreement. "I think I've picked up their scent-trail. They seemed to have walked along the edge of the lake. They left together, as a whole Pack. That's good news, isn't it? The Leashed Dogs and the Wild Pack must have set aside their differences after all."

Wiggle dipped his head in resignation and went to join Lick and Grunt, who had found a flat stone by the lake and were stretching out in the sun.

Lucky watched the puppy walk away. He didn't answer the Farm Dog's question, thinking of the confrontation between Bella and Sweet the morning that he'd been expelled.

"Come on, Lucky. If we hurry, we can catch them by no-sun." Mickey b.u.t.ted Lucky's head cheerfully, then paused. "What's wrong?"

Lucky's head drooped. "They may not want me to follow them."

"What do you mean?"

"I left the Pack, Mickey."