ROBO QUICKLY REGAINED CONTROL of his pack with his sharp barks and robotic power. His first command was for them to make preparations to leave in exactly one moon cycle.
The dogs, comfortable under the less harsh rule of Savage, had at first hesitated when Robo told them to get ready to move out. But they knew that Robo had always watched out for them, keeping them safe from a world that killed strays without thinking.
Robo perceived the initial reaction, not understanding why the pack seemed so scared of his presence. But the Alpha knew how to be a leader. He softened his tone. Robo started to reunite with some of the bolder and older members, while gently nudging and playing with the scared—but curious—pups that had arrived in the months since he had left.
When the time was right, he moved to the front of the pack. Savage followed a couple footsteps behind him. Slowly, the hundreds of dogs, mutts and purebreds, large and small, started falling in behind the two leaders.
Robo winced for a second. He was still in pain from Dexter’s surgeries, but he knew he had felt worse.
Robo led his pack out of the broken-down building. He turned around to see Splat, an Australian shepherd. Fur covered Splat’s eyes, and he walked silently—and uncomfortably—next to Unknown.
“Why is he still upset?” Robo muttered under his breath. A year ago, Robo had given him a chance to be part of his pack. But Splat never really spoke when Robo was around. Robo had seen him happy and playing with the other dogs, but with one glance at Robo, he would turn quiet or slowly retreat in the dens.
Ungrateful, Robo thought, irritated. All of them.
In small groups, the pack turned around to say goodbye to their home and its memories, and then left it behind, running with Robo into the street.
The humans were stunned, watching hundreds of dogs stream toward them, teeth bared. Robo observed the humans— so far removed from their primal selves. Most watched in fascination, some pulling out their cell phones to record the dogs, instead of being afraid.
They are soft, he thought with contempt.
Even the younglings had no sense of danger. One toddler, amazed at all the dogs, yelled “Puppies” and started to waddle toward Robo, her hands outstretched. Savage nervously looked at her and then at Robo and back at her.
Robo stood still. For a brief second, he saw Becca—his Becca. But he regained focus. When the little girl was close enough, he growled a warning, and nipped her hand—softly, but hard enough to push her to the ground.
She looked at him, wounded and surprised, as she lay on the ground, her eyes filling with tears. “Baddy! Baddy!” she wailed.
Robo’s robotic ear started ringing from the sound, and any tenderness he felt evaporated. “Shut up already,” he growled, before feeling a sharp pain hit him in the side. He snarled, and looked up at the youngling’s mother, her nose flaring with rage. Her lips were curled, and he saw her form a fist, smacking Robo as quick as lightning. He yelped in surprise, and jumped away from her. She followed him, giving a hard kick in his robotic leg. He jumped away again, shocked. He respected this mother— viciously protecting her pup. But he had barely touched the youngling; he had just tried to get her to stop screaming.
Humans. Always either overreacting or oblivious.
Robo looked back at Savage, and twitched his ear to signal him to go. Savage nodded, before yelling, “Come on!” to the pack, and continued charging through the streets. Robo winked his approval to his Beta, and followed. As the night fell, Robo and Savage led the pack through back roads, through the northern suburbs of Atlanta, and later, the pine forests of the Piedmont of rural Georgia. They let the moonlight guide them toward the single mountain, a great, black, jagged, edge against the dark blue sky.
“If we don’t stop, we’ll make it by sunrise,” Robo called out to his pack. “We’ll rest in the morning.”
The dogs barked their agreement.
The march continued.
Hours later, Robo and Savage were deep in their own thoughts, when suddenly Robo saw a flash of white through the pine trees. He turned quickly to try and capture the movement.
“Robo?” Savage asked.
Robo, nose in the air, looked at Savage. “Go without me. I’ll catch up later.”
Savage stared at him for a couple of seconds and nodded.
Robo slowly followed the scent of dog… and humans? Robo shook his head. There’s no way humans would be in this part of the woods at this time of night.
Then he saw her, moving alarmingly fast. His robotic eye caught an infrared vision of the same husky once struggling in the street. She had escaped!
Robo’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. What are they doing out here? he thought, crouching in the tall grass.
He tried to get a better lock on her, but she was already gone, slipping through the high grass and into the cover of darkness.
“Don’t worry, Husky. I’ll save you.” Robo felt his heart harden a little more toward humans. No more Becca. No more family. No more mercy.
He had seen so many things happen to dogs when they had done nothing to the humans except be their loyal—too loyal—companions.
Robo dug his claws deep into the earth. They needed to be punished. Not just the scientists, not just the mother who hit and kicked him, not just the dogcatcher—all of them.
But how, he thought. How?
His mind, initially foggy from Dexter’s operations, now recalled the image of a shining, bright blue, fiery ball. He had first seen it through the bars of his cage. He remembered watching it be used to destroy everything—concrete, bricks, steel, drones, tanks…and dogs. A beam of light, and then nothing—everything reduced to dust. As it glowed and rotated slowly in its case, the scientists had stepped back to congratulated each other, slapping each other on the back. Robo recognized this happiness, this self-important moment, even without understanding exactly what they were saying.
Robo realized now that he and the orb were intended to be the ultimate pairing of weapons. A dog that could destroy targets precisely, like a surgeon’s blade, backed up by an orb that could destroy everything left, like a shotgun blast.
No longer would humans need coal, oil, or nuclear fission for energy. This—this glowing ball—could power anything, and still fit in a man’s pocket. Robo closed his eyes. He would find it and use it to destroy the very human race that built it.
But…
Had it survived the fire?
Robo was determined to find out. If it did, he—with the help of his pack and those two surviving scientists—would be able to beat the humans at their own violent game.
Humans would return to being the naked, soft creatures they had been. After centuries of ruling the animals, they would not be prepared for the animals to fight back.
His lips curled at the thought, revealing his metallic teeth in the moonlight.