Andy arrived at the spot on the edge of the Lake that he thought of as “theirs”—the place that had first heard their music.
It was deserted. He tried to choke down his panic. This was his one shot to find her. If he had guessed wrong, he wouldn’t be able to double back. There was no time. They’d both be done.
Andy pulled his violin case from his backpack and quickly removed the instrument and his bow. His first notes were horribly off, hesitant and jumbled. He was too nervous, although he never became nervous when he played.
He counted to three in his head, closed his eyes, and then moved the bow across the violin once more. This time the sound was different—long, sinuous tones eventually gave birth to a fast-moving melody that surged skyward out of his violin. Andy knew this was a beautiful refrain. It had to be, because this was their composition. Whenever he played this part of the piece, he thought for some reason of angels having sex.
Andy opened his eyes and she was there, sitting on her haunches staring into the growing darkness on the water. He stopped playing and the dog turned to look at him. There was something so lost and sorrowful in the dog’s expression that Andy almost dropped to his knees as he remembered.
Alexa had made it to the Lake that night, more than halfway to their cavern. But so had someone else. Blood from two stab wounds to her chest… her gray face… her right ear gone—torn or bitten off… ripping off his shirt and stuffing it into her ugly wounds… seeing all the blood that had already left her body seeping into the ground.
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered into the disfigured ear.
That was where the police found them. Andy screamed when they took her body out of the park. Only her bloodstain remained.
It took two months before he had the courage to enter the park again and three before he could walk past the Lake to the rock formation. When he finally entered the cavern, the stray was waiting. He saw the missing ear. That was all he needed to know.
His shrink, the one Judge Allerton made him see, called it necroanthropomorphism—projecting the characteristics of a dead human on a living animal. It was a big name to try to convince him that he’d lost it. But Andy wasn’t convinced. Instead he learned not to talk about her. Not even with Father Gabriel, who might have understood that the death thing wasn’t nearly as linear as everyone thought.
Andy could never bring himself to name the one-eared stray. He felt she already had a name.
“C’mon, girl. Time to get out of here,” he called to the dog. She turned her gaze back to the surface of the Lake, searching.
Andy stowed his violin and took a few steps forward. The dog whined but didn’t move. She allowed Andy to rub her head and then take a leash and loop it around her neck.
Andy needed to tug hard to get her moving.
“It’s not safe here anymore. You can stay with me now,” he told her.
He tugged again and this time, her tail down and ears flat, the dog surrendered and slowly followed him.
They made it twenty-five feet before they ran into their first patrol—three men in blue vinyl biohazard suits, each carrying one of the ominous black-and-red canisters Andy had observed in the DEP van.
Andy quickly pulled the dog behind some trees, held his breath, and waited for them to pass. As they moved away, he heard one of the men say, “Hell, Pete. I didn’t take this job to kill dogs.”
“They aren’t dogs anymore, remember?” the other said. “These are ‘biological pathogen vectors.’”
Once their voices moved off and the trail was clear, Andy stepped out again.
“What the hell you doing, kid?” The voice came from behind him.
Andy spun around expecting to see more DEP insignias, or cops, or maybe even Guardsmen. Instead he came face-to-face with the old black man in the long coat. “The park’s been closed now to dogs. You can’t be wandering all around with her,” he said, pointing to the dog. “Especially not her. They get their hands on her and… well, that changes everything.”
“She’s my dog. I’m taking her home.”
“Don’t play me, kid. I’m like the last friend you got right now. You won’t make it out.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’ve always worried about you, Andy.”
Andy startled. None of this felt right. “How’d you know my name?”
The black man smiled, showing his stained brown teeth for just a moment. “We all know you. Just like we know she’s not your dog.”
We? Andy stepped away, suddenly frightened.
The man grabbed Andy’s arm more quickly and with more power than Andy would’ve thought possible. The one-eared dog growled, but the man silenced her with a glance and turned to Andy. “She can’t go with you, you know?” The dog nuzzled up to Andy and the affection between them was unmistakable. Even the old man lost his words for a moment. “Look, it ain’t nothing on you, Andy. But she can’t go beyond the wall. That’s not her place anymore. She’s given enough.”
“Get your hand off me,” Andy demanded, but there was no force behind it.
The man nodded and released the boy. “No harm intended. Just trying to save you some ache. She doesn’t end here… but she does for you. You and I can’t change that.”
“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do. But whether you do now or you don’t, you will in a bit.”
The black man moved off as silently as he’d arrived.