CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I want to run. I need to run. It was all Storm could think through the screeching sound that was battering her skull. She shut her eyes tightly and clenched her jaws.

But I must not run!

She forced herself to stay in her place, digging her claws into the ground, every muscle rigid and taut. I must not run! Beetle and Thorn are still tied up in there—they can’t run!

Through the shrieking wail, something else was in her ears, a reassuring sound. Lucky’s voice.

“Don’t be scared.” He was barking now, calm but insistent. “That sound can’t hurt you, and neither can the den-thing. It’s calling for its longpaws, that’s all. It’s what they do when you disturb them. Don’t panic.”

Storm felt her heart begin to slow; she was able to think again, though her brain still hammered with the ongoing, wailing racket. Breeze too seemed less terror-struck, and Mickey looked wide-eyed but steady.

“But it does mean the longpaws will come soon,” Lucky went on. “We need to get Beetle and Thorn out of here, and fast!” He leaped up into the den hatch, vanishing inside just as Moon had.

It went against all Storm’s instincts to follow him in there, but she fought against them. Tensing every muscle, clenching her jaw till it hurt, she crouched and sprang up into the belly of the beast.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness, but she quickly made out Beetle and Thorn. The two stood against the far wall, eagerly facing their rescuers, their tails quivering. Both dogs strained against the rope collars that fastened them to round metal hooks in the wall. Before them, on the ground, sat bowls of water and dry pieces of food that looked untouched. Moon stood by them, tugging helplessly on Thorn’s rope with her teeth.

“Storm!” barked Beetle. “Lucky! You came!”

“Breeze and Mickey!” yelped Thorn with joy.

“We came, but we’ll have to be quick,” growled Lucky. “The longpaws are already on their way.”

Thorn shook her head violently, snarling at the bite of the rope. “We tried to get loose, but these are too tight.”

“I can’t do anything,” whined Moon. “They don’t yield to teeth.”

“And we can’t break the ropes,” added Beetle in frustration. “They’re too strong.”

“Backward,” barked Lucky sharply.

Moon gave a snarl of belated realization. “Of course! Try that, my pups. You have to wriggle backward, like Lucky says.” She fastened her teeth around the loop of rope on Beetle’s neck. “Pull back now.”

She lowered her hindquarters, straining hard with stiff forelegs as Beetle struggled and writhed. The rope slipped a little toward his jaw.

“Pull harder!” Moon demanded, urgency overcoming the fear in her voice.

Clenching his jaw, Beetle dragged his head backward, twisting and yanking. The rope moved slowly, jerkily, toward his ear. Moon gave a low growl and hauled harder on the collar, her paws slipping.

Lucky was already doing the same thing for Thorn, his teeth sunk into the rope collar as she strained backward. As Storm turned anxiously to watch him, she heard a thump and a clatter. When she spun back, Moon was spitting out the rope collar, and Beetle was dancing in a circle, as well as he could in the small space. “You did it, Moon!”

Lucky was still fighting with the rope on Thorn’s neck; Thorn’s eyes were wide and white-rimmed as she wrenched herself backward, claws scrabbling. Nervously Storm twisted to peer out of the door. “We have to hurry!” she growled.

“What’s in the bowls?” Mickey was sniffing at the dry food. “It smells good—didn’t you want to eat?”

Moon shot him a look of disbelief; Storm raised her brows. Beetle gave a yelp of disgust. “We don’t touch longpaw food!”

Thorn gasped and snarled as she struggled. “Longpaws—killed—poisoned our—Father-Dog!”

Mickey hesitated for a moment, then cocked an ear in the direction of the bowls. He gave them another sniff, then hunched his shoulders and began to wolf down the nuggets of food.

Thorn’s rope snapped away, whipping her muzzle, and she staggered backward, shaking her head. At just that moment, through the hatch entrance, Storm saw two pairs of gleaming bright-white eyes, jolting across the ground toward them. They flooded the muddy ground with light.

“Longpaws! They’re here!”

All of the dogs spun toward the entry hatch. Mickey gulped down the last mouthful of food and growled. Then, at the same moment, they all sprang for the way out, bumping one another’s flanks as they hurried to escape.

Storm emerged first from the chaos, her forepaws landing hard on the earth, and she bounded forward, leading the way toward the ragged hole in the fence. She could hear the pounding paws of the others as they ran behind her; we’re going to make it!

Her ears twitched and swiveled as she ran. It was hard to count the pawsteps running behind her, but she didn’t dare pause to glance over her shoulder. The glowing eyes of the loudcages were bumping and weaving toward them, but the fence was nearly in reach.

Then, horribly, she heard another sound: a hollow thud, and a yelp of distress.

Storm skidded to a halt, her claws sending up a shower of loose earth. All her companions were still behind her, slowing in confusion—

But not Breeze!

Storm turned and raced back between her comrades. She saw the dark pool of shadow in the ground almost immediately: a deep hole that she—and they—had only avoided by blind luck. Storm crept to its edge. Breeze was a slightly paler shadow in the bottom of the pit, her eyes staring up at Storm in panic, the whites showing. The brown dog stood up on her hindpaws and scrabbled frantically at the earth walls.

“Help me! Storm, help!”

The rest of the party had turned back now and were gathered around Storm, yelping in dismay.

“Hold on, Breeze,” Storm growled. “Don’t panic. It’s not too deep at all.” Just too deep for a dog Breeze’s size to climb out . . . “We’ll help you!”

Taking a deep breath, trying not to think about the approaching loudcages and their increasing roar, Storm jumped down into the hole next to Breeze. She nuzzled the smaller dog’s neck, trying to reassure her panicking friend.

“Keep calm. I’ll push you up.” Storm raised her head and barked to Lucky and Mickey, who were peering over the edge. “Be ready to pull her!”

The two dogs crouched at the edge of the drop. Storm lowered her head and pushed at Breeze’s shaking hindquarters, shoving as hard as she could as Breeze clawed desperately at the sheer sides. Earth crumbled and Breeze whimpered, but gradually she was scrambling higher.

“The longpaws,” came Thorn’s whimper from beyond the edge of the hole. “They’re nearly here!”

“Hurry, hurry!” yelped Beetle.

I will, thought Storm irritably, if you’ll all just shut up! Gritting her teeth, she heaved again, harder, jolting Breeze up another few worm-lengths. Breeze’s hindquarters were in her face, and her lashing tail almost blinded Storm.

Then, abruptly, her weight was lifted away. Lucky had the brown dog by the scruff of her neck and was hauling hard, with Mickey’s help. Breeze was pulled up and away, and Storm heard her land with a soft thump on safe ground.

Panting, turning a full circle, Storm glanced around the hole. There was no room for a running start; she would just have to spring for it.

“Come on, Storm,” barked Lucky. “I’ll pull you up, too.”

“Oh, hurry!” yelped Moon.

Crouching, coiling herself tightly, Storm clenched her jaws. When every muscle was bunched tight, she pushed away with her hindquarters and sprang toward safety.

Lucky bared his jaws and opened them, ready to catch her by the scruff, but his help wasn’t necessary. She was clear of the hole by a tail-length as she landed on all four paws.

“Thank you, Storm,” panted Breeze, her sides heaving. “Thank you!”

“Never mind that now—let’s go!” Storm bounded toward the fence but stood back as the others dived for the hole and scrabbled through. Moon was last, after her rescued pups, except for Lucky. He waited, nodding impatiently at Storm.

“Go on, Storm! As Beta, I should take the rear.”

There were barks from the longpaws now, and the screeching noise of loudcages drawing to a halt. As pounding longpaw feet ran toward the fence, Storm twisted and shoved herself through the hole in the wire.

When she emerged on the other side she turned, looking desperately for Lucky, but he was already halfway through the gap. He hauled himself out, barking, “Run!”

The longpaws were running now, too, but they were on the other side of the fence and they carried no loudsticks. Dizzy with relief, Storm spun and raced at her Beta’s flank, back toward the safety of their camp.