The Empty City (9 page)

“Squeak! It's you!” Overcome by happiness, he licked at her face, and she crouched playfully on her forepaws to nibble at his throat.

“I'm not Squeak anymore,” she yipped. “I have a new name. Bella!”

“Bella,” Lucky repeated, getting used to the sound. “That's beautiful,” he decided.

There was a snorting yelp from the pretty white dog, and a
shut up!
growl as the crossbreed beside her nipped her nose. Lucky realized the whole motley Pack was sitting there, ogling him and his newfound litter-sister. They looked both fascinated and expectant, though the Fight Dog had a defensive expression. They might be an odd assortment of dogs, but they all looked very fine in their own way. Their fur was sleek, their bellies round, their muzzles free of fleabites and scratches, except for the few scrapes the foxes had managed to inflict before they ran. Poised on three legs, one forepaw delicately raised, the pretty dog might have had her long glossy hair brushed by a longpaw just that sunup.

Despite her pert confidence, though, she seemed a little ashamed of her outburst, and Bella was giving her a stern glance of disapproval. “It's what my name
means
, Sunshine. Bella means
beautiful
.”

Lucky nudged Bella's muzzle with his own, as much to calm her down as to show affection. “I have a new name, too,” he told her. “I'm Lucky.”

She washed his ear with her tongue. “The name fits! You're certainly lucky we came along just now!'”

“You're right about that.” Lucky stepped back and studied Bella's friends. “Hello,” he said.

Sunshine seemed too intimidated to reply, and quite off-balance with her paw in the air. The Fight Dog grunted some inaudible answer, but he was standing up on his hindpaws and sniffing hungrily at the meat Lucky had left on the counter.

“Oh, Bruno.” Bella gave him a playful growl and a nudge with her muzzle. “You're always hungry. Even at the end of the world, you're thinking of food.”

Don't all dogs think of food and how to get it?
The end of the world wasn't a joke—it was real, he thought, remembering the terror of the Big Growl, the horrible endless depths of the crevice in the road. Getting and keeping food wasn't a
joke
. He knew that. But perhaps these sleek, well-fed dogs didn't.

As if to prove him right, Sunshine flopped onto her plump belly, her white coat spreading on the ground. She gave a whine. “I wish you wouldn't say those things, Bella. We don't
know
the world's ended.”

Bella's answering whine held a touch of irritation, though she licked reassuringly at the black button nose. “If the world hasn't ended, Sunshine, where do you suppose our longpaws are?”

Lucky stiffened.
Our
longpaws? In disbelief he studied each dog, all so very different, except for one thing. Every single one of them wore the ownership sign of the longpaws.

Horrified, he couldn't help exclaiming out loud.

“You're
Leashed Dogs
!”

They all stared at him, and then at one another, bemused.

“Yes?” said the Farm Dog, cocking his head curiously.

“It—well, that explains—I mean, the way you all—” Lucky fell silent, his mind a turmoil.
Leashed Dog
s.
Pampered
dogs. Tame, silly,
pointless
dogs …

They'd let longpaws buckle collars around their necks. They relied on longpaws for food, for fun, for exercise, for a place to sleep. Without their longpaws they were helpless, hopeless.... The horror of it was beyond belief. How were
Leashed Dog
s supposed to survive the end of the world?

Lucky shook himself free of the shivers in his fur. He couldn't think about it just now. Besides, what did it matter at this moment, when they'd come to his rescue with such good timing?

Lucky glanced back at Bruno, still snuffling at the meat with his muzzle. “Come on. Let's share this.” He leaped up onto the counter and grabbed it in his jaws, then jumped back down and dropped it. “You saved me
and
this meat. I owe you a share. It's the least I can do.”

And it's all you'll get if you can't hunt by yourselves ....

For a while there was only the contented sound of tearing and chewing as the odd little Pack shared Lucky's spoils. Wolfing down his own portion, Lucky murmured to Bella, “Your friends are … interesting.”

Bella lifted her head and gazed at them fondly. “They're not like us at all, are they? I used to think all dogs were sheltie-retrievers!”

Lucky blinked. “Is that what we are?”

“Yes. Don't you remember our sire and Mother-Dog?” Her expression was filled with conflicted emotion—relief, deep happiness, regret at their long separation—but there was amusement in her voice, too. “Most of us have proper kind-names, names the longpaws gave to all of us.”

Lucky grunted disapprovingly. “Things aren't
proper
just because the longpaws invented them.”

Bella ignored that. “Now, Bruno there, his Mother-Dog was a German Shepherd. And Mickey's what the longpaws call a ‘Border Collie.' He's very smart, likes to herd us! Daisy's sire and Mother-Dog were a ‘Westie' and a ‘Jack Russell.' Little Sunshine, there—she's a ‘Maltese.'
Very
delicate,” she added.

“And this one?” Lucky nodded at the biggest, black dog.

“Martha? She's a ‘Newfoundland.' Look at the size of her next to Sunshine!”

Lucky eyed the pair. Martha was much taller than Lucky, and Sunshine didn't even reach up as far as her knee joint. The foxes had been right about one thing: This really was the most unorganized Pack he'd ever laid eyes on. Were they even a real Pack at all? Who was their Alpha? Bella talked a lot, and she was kind but brusque with Sunshine, but she didn't act like a Pack leader. She didn't have that air of unquestioned authority; she didn't expect to be obeyed at her first bark or nip, and even when she seemed decisive, she looked to the others for approval or advice. The collie-dog, Mickey, seemed intelligent, and Bruno looked like he could handle himself in a fight, but neither of them had played the Alpha with the foxes. Sunshine—certainly not! And Daisy seemed brave, and scrappy, and feisty, but she was barely out of puppyhood, no Alpha dog, either....

Who was in
charge
of this Pack?

Lucky's bewildered thoughts were interrupted by a high panicked howl. Sunshine had leaped up, abandoning her last delicate morsel of meat, and was running in tight circles, long hair floating, claws skittering in panic.

“I'm hurt! I'm hurt!”

“What—” began Bella.

“The foxes!
I got bitten!
” Sunshine's yelping was becoming hysterical, and she lifted one paw pathetically off the ground. It was the forepaw she'd been favoring since the fight, and now Lucky realized there was a reason—one she'd only just discovered herself. Waving her paw in the air, flapping it as though she was still trying to run, Sunshine instantly fell over. She got up on three paws, still panicking, and flew in circles again.

“My longpaw! I need my longpaw
now
!
I need to go to the vet!
”

Lucky saw that Bella looked anxious, her eyes wide. He was taken aback by a sudden scornful disdain. No, his sister
really
wasn't an Alpha dog.

But the others were no better. Mickey had sprung to his feet, staring. Daisy was yapping wildly in sympathy, and suddenly the others joined in.

“We'll go back to the longpaw houses!”

“No, we can find a vet! Find a vet!”

“Where? Where will we find a vet? They're ALL GONE!”

“The
longpaws
are all gone! What will we
do
?”

Snapping out of his disbelief, Lucky jumped to his feet and gave a single angry bark.

“Calm
down
!”

Falling silent, they stared at him. He thought back to the longpaw he'd seen with the vivid yellow coat. Should he tell the dogs about his encounter? But that longpaw had been so … strange. No, it would only confuse matters—make them think there was a longpaw around to help.

He stood straighter. “I don't know what a
vet
is, but I'm sure Sunshine doesn't need one. Let me see.”

Tentatively, her flanks quivering, Sunshine crept forward and shyly offered him her paw. Lucky sniffed at it. There was a smear of blood, sure enough, but it was no more than a tiny tear in the skin. He touched it delicately with his tongue.

“Here, it's just a scratch. That's all. I'll show you.” Lying down, Lucky stretched out his own wounded paw, turning the pad up for their examination, and there was a collective gasp of horror.

“That's terrible!” squeaked Sunshine. “You need a vet more than I do!”

“No I don't,” said Lucky in exasperation. “It's only bad because I haven't stopped long enough to tend to it. Look.” He licked carefully at the wound. Sure enough, it felt better already.
Maybe if I had given it more attention before, I would have had an easier time getting away from those foxes
, he thought. He licked at it again. “Come on, Sunshine. Try it.”

Obediently Sunshine bent her head and licked rather dubiously at the scratch on her own paw. When nothing terrible happened, she tried again, and was soon washing it quite painstakingly.

“You're right,” she whispered in awe. “It doesn't sting as badly. It
does
feel better.” She stopped licking to gaze admiringly at Lucky. “He's right, everybody!”

“You see?” he barked. “You don't need a silly longpaw vet!”

They were all staring at him in respectful silence. He met their eyes, feeling a ripple of unease in his fur.

“That's wonderful,” murmured Martha, lowering her big black head and tilting it to study Sunshine's paw.

“Fine job. Fine job!” growled Bruno. “Splendid!”

“You're so
clever
!” exclaimed little Daisy. “I can't believe you knew that!”

Mickey said nothing, but he looked profoundly impressed. Even Bella was gazing from him to Sunshine and back again, with delight. Six tails wagged and thumped.

Oh no you don't!
thought Lucky.
I'm not your Alpha!

Hastily he rose again, and backed off a step. “Listen, I—I'm really grateful you helped me out there. You were the best!” He retreated another couple of paces, his hackles rising. “But I've got to go. Thank you, again. And good luck!”

Before any of them could react, he had turned and was trotting as fast as he could out of the mall. He could feel their stunned gazes, could almost sense those drooping tails and ears, but he wouldn't look back. Would
not
look back—

Lucky came to a halt. Outside, the sky had turned a dark charcoal gray, heavy with water. Even as he hesitantly lifted a paw to leave the mall, brilliant light lit the street for a fraction of an instant, and then a colossal bang shook the world.

Lucky froze.

Lightning!

In a second there would be battering water, falling in torrents from the sky. The shattering crash of a terrible war in the clouds, where Sky-Dogs fought to the death over and over again, and Lightning the swift dog hero teased Earth-Dog by tearing through the sky leaving fire in his wake. There was very little that frightened Lucky, but he hated to be outside when the sky burst its clouds....

He'd hesitated too long, and he could feel Bella's warmth, her flanks close against his. She didn't look at him, but watched the warring black skies, too.

“Stay with us, Lucky,” she said at last. “Just for a while?”

For a long moment he couldn't answer. He thought about the loneliness he'd felt when he woke this sunup, and the empty realization that Sweet was no longer there. He remembered the warmth and tumble of the Pup Pack, the smell of Squeak cuddling up beside him as they slept. And now Squeak was Bella, and she was beside him again, different but the same....

“Okay,” he said at last, slowly. “Just for a little while, though.”

She gave a loud bark of delight, and suddenly she was down on her forepaws, then leaping up, tumbling into him. Unexpected joy fizzed through Lucky's body and he rolled with her, jumping up and spinning in a circle, then letting her chase him back toward the little Pack.

The others looked thrilled. Daisy darted forward, yapping and colliding with Bella, and solid old Bruno knocked the little dog playfully sideways so that she and Sunshine fell in a heap. Then they were all chasing and barking and play-fighting, as if they didn't have a care in the world.

An empty longpaw mall was the best place in the world for a game, Lucky decided as he dodged Martha's lumbering pounce. Mickey dropped his precious leather item to grab a fallen longpaw fur, shaking it like a rat, and then Bruno had seized it, too, and the two dogs were rolling around in a chaotic tug-of-war.

Lucky watched happily until he felt Bella cannon into him and the littermates wrestled in a squirming heap.