The Pack by Dayna Lorentz Page A

into the dark of the bus and sank into sleep.
    Shep sat at the front of the bus and looked out the window at the sky. A steady rain fell from a sheet of cloud. The city was as dark as Shep had ever seen it, with only the faintest light shining through the clouds from the hidden moon high above. He wished he could see the Great Wolf’s sparkling coat; he needed guidance. How could he lead as a team with Callie and not have Blaze think less of him? But he didn’t want to lead without Callie. He also didn’t want to kick Blaze out of the pack. Everything was so difficult in this storm-wrecked world.
    Shep wondered, as he had every night since the storm, if his boy was somewhere in this darkness, looking up at the same cloud-cluttered sky. He hoped not. Shep didn’t want to be trapped in this ruined place; he wouldn’t wish such a fate on any dog. But at least he’d been trained to survive in the fight cage; at least he was toughened to the harsh things of the world. His boy was as soft as a new pup. He wouldn’t last a sun on the streets of the drowned city.
    As if answering Shep’s thoughts, a howl echoed through the dark. If he hadn’t seen him washed away in the wave, Shep would’ve sworn it was Zeus’s call.
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    The first tails of dawn woke Shep from his slumber. He’d dreamt of the river of dogs again, only this time it was he who was drowning. He’d looked up and seen the endless stream of pounding paws. He’d barked for help, but not one dog had glanced down as he sank deeper and deeper.
    He lapped at a foul-tasting puddle of rainwater Outside the broken window of the bus, then scanned the surrounding street. Both sides were lined with stone buildings, some a few floors tall, all in various states of destruction. He wondered if the pack shouldn’t split up and scrounge for scraps in smaller groups — they might have better luck looking in more than one place. We’d be easier prey for any attacker. Then again, with strange things like water lizards around, are any of us safe, even in a pack?
    Callie woofed in her sleep, her tiny paws twitching. He wondered what she was dreaming about and hoped it was a happy dream. He would hunt up some kibble for her, to make up for their spat. Maybe I’ll catch her a squirrel , he thought, though the idea made him gag.
    Blaze hopped over Snoop’s sleeping form and joined Shep on the street. “You’re the first pet I’ve encountered who wakes before midsun,” she barked. “Look at the rest of them,” she yipped, waving her snout at the bus. “Lazy as the cycle is long.”
    â€œWhy are you all proud-snouted?” Shep woofed. “You’re a pet like the rest of us.”
    Blaze swiped at a pile of rubble. “You and I are not like them ,” she woofed. A chunk of stone tumbled out of the pile, revealing a cache of hidden kibble. Blaze waved her tail. “Want a bite?”
    Shep scented jerky treats in Blaze’s stash. Slaver cascaded from his jowls. “Maybe just a nibble,” he yipped.
    â€œSo why don’t you tell me your story?” barked Blaze.
    Shep wondered what story to tell. Begin in the fight cage? Would that be too horrible? Begin with the storm, with meeting Callie? Was that where my life began?
    â€œWhere were you born?” Blaze prompted.
    â€œI was born in a kennel,” Shep answered. “Now you.”
    â€œMe, too,” she barked.
    â€œAnd?” he asked.
    â€œAnd?” she repeated mockingly.
    Shep whipped around and leapt at her chest, toppling her into a puddle.
    â€œHa!” she snapped. “Fight dog, right?”
    Shep was surprised — impressed? — that Blaze could divine this information from a single attack. But the excited look on her muzzle made him nervous.
    â€œYes,” he grunted, “I was born in a fight kennel.”
    â€œDon’t be shy,” Blaze yipped, slapping the dirt,