CHAPTER 1

SNAKE IN THE GRASS

Max awoke to find something wet and leathery pressing against his nose.

He barked in surprise and jerked away.

“Aah!” the creature yelped, rearing back—and Max realized it was his friend Rocky. The Dachshund had been sitting snout-to-snout with Max in the overgrown grass, intently watching him sleep.

“What are you doing?” Max asked.

“Just making sure you’re okay,” Rocky said as he hopped onto Max’s back, as if he hadn’t just startled the both of them. “Gizmo asked me to stay and watch over you.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Max asked.

The little Dachshund leaped off Max’s shoulder and landed in the grass in front of him.

“You were growling and kicking in your sleep, like you were battling dream wolves again, buddy,” he said. “We all know how your dreams can get to you sometimes.”

Max remembered glinting silver, intense heat, and black clouds. He shivered.

“What did you dream about, anyway?” Rocky asked, cocking his head. “Nothing too horrible, right?”

“Nothing horrible,” Max said as he rose on all fours. “I’m fine; don’t worry.”

It was morning, and the sun was still low in the sky. They’d spent the night beside the highway, near a row of hay bales and some scrubby brush. The day before, they’d come through a mostly empty town. In the past, they might have taken a night or two to rest in one of the abandoned houses, rather than sleep outside.

But they couldn’t risk stopping any more than necessary these days. There was a pack of angry wolves on their trail, led by the vicious Dolph, and although the three of them had come a long way, they still had a lot of ground to cover before they could be reunited with their people.

Max had insisted the dogs stop only briefly to scavenge for food and water in the empty town. Then they’d continued down the highway until they were so tired they’d had to rest.

“Where is Gizmo?” Max asked as he started toward the highway.

“She went for a walk,” Rocky said. Max could barely see the Dachshund as they waded through the overgrown grass and weeds. “I think she had a bad dream, too. Me? I dreamed I was in a land of kibble, big guy. We’re talking roads paved with kibble, and sausage trees, and… a river full of gravy! You ever had gravy?” The smaller dog’s tongue dangled from his pointed snout, and he drooled. “My pack leader poured some into my food dish once. Oh, man, it was great.”

Gurgling sounded from Rocky’s stomach, and he looked up at Max. “I think I’m just a little hungry,” he said.

In response, Max licked his friend’s black forehead reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll reach a town soon. Then we can find something to eat.”

In another minute, they could see the highway up ahead. It wasn’t a huge road, just a couple of two-lane streets divided by a grassy median. Beyond it was another open field bordered by towering trees, but no houses or barns.

Gizmo looked up from the puddle she was drinking from as Max and Rocky approached. She offered them a brief, halfhearted wag of her tail.

“Good morning, boys,” the Yorkshire Terrier said. “I found this puddle. It’s a little muddy, but it’s not too bad.”

Max nodded at her and took a few laps of water. She was right—it was gritty with dirt, but Max’s mouth and throat were parched, and he needed to drink.

While Rocky drank his fill, Max studied Gizmo. “You took a walk by yourself?” he asked her. “You’ve got to be careful. The wolves are still following us.”

Gizmo’s ears drooped, and she looked away. “I know,” she said. “I had a dream about Belle—a nightmare, really. It made me sad, so I wanted to chase away the thoughts.”

Belle was a Collie whom Max and his friends had been asked to seek out by an old Australian Shepherd named Boss. Boss had heroically given his life to save many other dogs, and it was his last wish to let Belle know he hadn’t abandoned her. They’d found Belle, half-mad from loneliness, in a filthy, decaying mansion in a city called Baton Rouge. It took everything they had to persuade her to leave her home and make a new life with other dogs.

“She has friends now,” Max said. “Georgie and Fletcher and Whitey. She’s not alone. And besides, Dr. Lynn said the people will come home soon, remember?”

“I know,” Gizmo said. “But what happens if Belle’s people decide not to go back? Or if they find her, what happens to her friends?” She ducked her fuzzy head, looking sad. “Everything has been so different since the humans left. More changes might be hard for Belle.”

Smacking his lips, Rocky stepped away from the puddle. “You two are supergloomy today. Where’s my chipper, energetic Gizmo? And our fearless, tireless leader, Max?” Running onto the highway, he looked back at his friends and barked. “No more moping, guys! Let’s get a move on!”

Max barked a laugh, and Gizmo’s short tail wagged itself into a blur. They galloped after Rocky, following the road west, away from the rising sun.

“You’re right,” Gizmo said as the dogs slowed their pace. “It’s a nice day for a walk, isn’t it? I wonder if we’ll meet someone new today. I hope we do.”

Rocky trotted at Gizmo’s side. “You know these long walks aren’t my favorite, but as long as I’m with you, it’s time well spent.”

“Aww!” Gizmo said. She nudged his side with her head and offered him an appreciative lick.

Rocky was right, Max thought. Though their travels were often exhausting, having his two friends beside him sure did help.

Just ahead, Max noticed a car in the median. It was partially hidden by the tall grass and covered with dirt and leaves. Max was used to seeing these rusting, empty signs of humanity now.

Their journey had started months ago, when Max found himself locked in a kennel. Not long after Max had run out of food and water, Rocky had freed him. That was when Max learned that all the humans had disappeared, leaving their pets behind. The birds had disappeared, too.

Max knew his human family—his pack leaders, Charlie and Emma, and their parents—wouldn’t have left him if they’d had a choice. He had decided he would do anything to find them.