Chapter 13

I go on walking in a slumpy funk until I reach Horace Millner’s property.

All the dogs stand in a line at the fence, almost as if they were waiting for me to show up. They are arranged from smallest to biggest. As I walk past each of them, they wag their tails or cock their heads. At the end of the row is Ranger. The dog with the big belly reaches her tongue forward to catch a water drop off the fence. Ranger barks, and she returns to her position.

Oh, great, I think. When he wants them to tame down, even Ranger is better at keeping control of his family pack than I am.

“What’s the trick, huh, Ranger?” I stand on one side of the fence, and he sits on the other. We give each other a good once-over.

I crouch down so that we’re eye to eye. Ranger makes a gravelly sound, but it doesn’t seem angry. I reach out my hand. “Remember me?” I let Ranger sniff my hand. “I know you do. I’m the one who cut that duck off your neck.”

Ranger moves his nose against my fingers. His nose is wet and cool, like a pebble pulled out of a creek. I pet his snout and rub his nose all the way up between his eyes. He presses his forehead into my hand, so I scratch his ears.

“That feels good, doesn’t it,” I tell him. I remember how Mom would rub my head and scratch my scalp a bit with her nails and comb through my hair with her fingertips when she put me to bed. I always loved that. I remember begging her to keep doing it until I fell asleep, and sometimes she would.

Ranger shivers, which makes me giggle. Shivering must be the dog way of getting goose bumps. Ranger is grateful for the smallest kindness. I scratch him harder and rub his ears, where his fur feels velvety, and then stroke him from ear to back and back to ear.

The high-pitched grinding of a truck shifting gears alerts all the dogs. At once, the entire pack lift their heads toward the road. Ranger’s neck vibrates as he emits a low growl and then a high bark. Danger is what that means.

The boys.

A panicky chill tingles my spine.

“Mikko?” My air is short. I walk fast toward where they should be. “Alexi?”

When I see them horsing around in the middle of the road, I trot. I hear footsteps alongside me on the inside of the fence. Ranger darts in stride with me.

Then I see the truck coming up behind the boys.

“Alexi!” I run and wave my arms high above my head. They don’t hear me, and they don’t see me.

The engine revs higher.

My heart beats fast and loud and hard. I cup my hands around my mouth and yell, “Get off the road!”

But Mikko is down on all fours while Alexi sits on his back, pretending to whip him with a quirt and kick him like a bronco.

The big square shape of the truck barrels toward them.

I run faster. Ranger breaks away into a full-on run. He barks, not at me but at the boys.

The driver of the truck doesn’t slow down. Either the driver can’t see the boys, little and dirty and low in the middle of the road, or he’s not paying attention.

Ranger picks up speed, more speed than I can keep up with.

The truck is so close to my brothers that I can make out the grille and the headlights. When my brothers look up and see me waving my arms, my throat seizes up so I can’t get out another word.

Mikko and Alexi look behind them and spot the truck, but they don’t move. They are frozen solid.

Then, far out ahead of me and past the boys, Ranger leaps over the fence. He runs across the ditch and up onto the road. He runs right at the truck.

My head pounds. My heart pounds. I stop.

The truck hisses as it slows down suddenly. The horn blows sharply.

But the squishing brakes and grinding metal and crunching gravel and blaring horn do not cover the sound of the tire hitting Ranger’s body.

They do not drown out the sound of one yelp coming from Ranger’s throat.

They do not hide the blast of air leaving Ranger’s body as he hits the ground in a heap.

Mikko grabs Alexi and dives into the ditch. Snow and gravel fly up from the truck’s tires as it swerves, dips down into the opposite ditch, and smashes into a tree. Glass breaks. Branches rattle and fall. Water sizzles on a hot engine.

I beeline for my brothers. In the ditch, they sit side by side with their arms around each other. Their faces are scratched from the rocks and snow. Alexi’s eyes are glassy with tears that haven’t fallen. His face is milky-colored and dull. I take him and pull him to my chest.

“It’s okay,” I say. “You’re okay.” My voice shakes, and my hands feel separate from me. I can see them clutching Alexi and Mikko, but I can’t feel them at all.

“I’m sorry,” Mikko says. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He gulps and then sobs loud and hard. His entire body shakes. Alexi is too stunned to cry, but the tears run down his face and onto my arm.

I rock them a little. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Toward the fence, footsteps crunch the snow and leaves. One by one, all the dogs in Ranger’s pack walk up, and one by one, they sit down in the same order as before. They stare at the road. I press Mikko’s and Alexi’s heads to my chest and turn my own head toward the road.

Ranger lies on his side. A crimson stain spreads out beneath his body.

I bite down on my tongue and close my eyes. Mikko tries to turn to look. I put his head against my chest and don’t let him.