The Empty City Read Free Page B

see other dogs by now, and certainly a few longpaws. But the city was empty and far too quiet. At least they had found a few stale scent-marks; that was reassuring. He stopped to sniff at an upturned longpaw seat that had been marked by a male Fierce Dog.
    â€œThey can’t be far.” Sweet interrupted his thoughts. She bent her muzzle to the scent, ears lifting. “This is a strong message. And there are others! Can’t you smell them?”
    The fur on Lucky’s shoulders bristled: Why was Sweet so determined to find a Pack? Wasn’t his company enough?
    â€œThese dogs must be long gone now,” he said, backing away. “We won’t catch up any time soon.”
    Sweet raised her nose in the air. “They smell nearby to me .”
    â€œBut this only smells strong because it was their territory. They marked it over and over. I’m telling you, Sweet, they’re far away already. I can pick out their scent in the distance.”
    â€œReally?” Sweet sounded doubtful again. “But I could catch up with them. I can catch anything .”
    Why don’t I just let her? Lucky wondered. If she’s so desperate to find a Pack, I should just tell her to run away as fast as she likes .
    Instead, he found himself rumbling a warning growl. “No, Sweet, you can’t. Shouldn’t , I mean,” he added quickly as she bristled. “You don’t know the city; you could get lost.”
    Frustrated, Sweet cast her nose around in the air, then barked angrily. “Why did this happen, Lucky? I was fine before. My Pack was fine! We were so happy in the open country, and we didn’t do any harm to the longpaws. If they’d only left us alone, if they hadn’t rounded us up into that awful Trap House—”
    She’d come to a miserable halt, and Lucky sat down beside her, wishing he could think of something to say. But he wasn’t used to being responsible for another dog. Already it gave him an ache in his heart that he would rather live without.
    He opened his jaws to try to reason with her some more, but stopped, gaping, as a gang of fierce, furious creatures tumbled, yowling and squealing, into the street right in front of them.
    Lucky felt fear tear through his hackles as his back stiffened. At first, he thought the fighting bundles of fur and teeth were sharpclaws, but then he realized they were different—very different. These animals were round and bushy-tailed, and they didn’t hiss. They weren’t dogs, and they weren’t huge rats. Lucky gave an alarmed yelp, but the creatures didn’t respond—they were too busy squabbling over a carcass that was so ripped and torn, he couldn’t tell what it had once been.
    Next to him, Sweet stood alertly, her eyes on the other animals. She took a moment to nuzzle his neck. “Don’t worry about them; they won’t hurt us.”
    â€œAre you sure?” asked Lucky. He’d caught sight of the face of one of them, a sinister black mask that seemed full of vicious little teeth.
    â€œThey’re raccoons,” Sweet replied. “We’ll be fine if we give them a wide berth. Try not to show too much interest and they won’t feel threatened. I bet they’re as hungry as we are.”
    Lucky followed Sweet’s lead to the far sidewalk. She shot the raccoons a fierce, bristling glare as she went. Lucky copied her, feeling prickles of anxiety in the roots of his fur.
    We’re not the only ones looking to fill our bellies , he realized. With everything torn from the ground and lying in ruins, easy pickings were a thing of the past. This was about survival now. He picked up his pace, keen to put as much space as he could between themselves and the raccoons.
    A few streets beyond, Lucky tasted familiar air and gave a happy bark. It was the alley he’d been looking for! He ran forward a few paces, then sat down and scratched at his ear with a hindpaw, enjoying