Happy Tails

The boy was a little small for his age but for 11 years old he was capable and wise. He had lost his parents a few years back in the great fires that had consumed the southwest and most of the life that lived there. He had been able to wriggle through a small mine opening and go underground outside Tonopah where he had grown up. His parents couldn’t follow. He learned to prefer underground, away from the brutal sun and other scavengers, because it was cooler, fresher, more defensible. Tucked away in an alcove, he was listening now because he heard rustling toward the mine entrance. He waited silently until the intruder became visible and was surprised to see a big, shaggy dog looking for food.

The dog was a handsome collie and shepherd mix, with long golden fur, a bushy tail, and fluffy ears. The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a lizard tail he had been saving and tossed it to the dog. Here boy, he called, come and get it. The dog cocked his head in the boy's direction, then warily edged closer to the piece of tail. The boy watched as the dog dropped something shiny from his mouth before wolfing down the tasty morsel. The boy edged out to the floor of the mine, holding out his hand. Here boy, he called again, slowly approaching.

Closing the distance, sure now the dog was friendly, he smiled and ruffled the dog's fur. What's this you have, huh boy? He bent to retrieve it. A heart-shaped locket! Inside the locket was a picture of a pretty girl and this dog. The dog chuffed and sent the locket rocking with a poke from his nose. As the two watched the locket swing back and forth, the dog cocked his head again, whined, and turned back towards the mine entrance. He walked a few yards, then looked back, pleading in his eyes.

The boy knew the dog wanted him to follow. He glanced down at the picture of the pretty girl. He popped the clasp and read the inscription inside:

My Heart Dog BFFs Cael and Koda

You must be Koda! the boy said with a smile, then he sighed wistfully, imagining himself rescuing this girl and the three of them becoming family. He knew better than to ever give that scant hope voice, but he really was just a young boy, and it was hard to face this nightmarish world alone. He walked towards the dog then stopped. Fear prickled up his spine, tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. He knew it was dangerous. During the day, the southwest was plagued by dry storms. At night, there were the scavengers. All of them hungry no matter the species. But the weight of his loneliness and Koda's hopeful look were enough to overcome his hesitation. He gathered up his few belongings, the food and water he had left, and tied a bandana around his face. Okay boy. Let's go!

The boy pulled himself up out of the mine’s entrance into the world above and immediately regretted it. The sun was a violent, biting thing that settled heavily on his back. The boy pulled down his goggles and followed Koda’s lead. They moved slowly; the afternoon heat a cumbersome companion they were forced to carry. It wasn’t thirty minutes later that the first storm moved through.

The winds came first. Hot, dry waves that rolled over the earth. You think the sun dazzling, ever victorious, but as the earth rose and fought back, throwing dust high into the sky and spinning it into devils that mated with the clouds, it blotted out the sun and freed the lightning. The lightning was a white-hot, throbbing light. It was blinding. Dust and lightning. Heaven and hell had met on earth, and neither were friendly. The stinging sand was unforgiving, tearing the boy’s clothes to expose the fragile skin underneath. They could barely see. Dodging dust devils and debris, the boy was fighting tears and even Koda was ready to give up, but just up ahead was an abandoned motel, the once bright colors and giant clown muted and scraped by heat and dust. Summoning the precarious strength of desperation, they pushed back against the searing wind and made their way to the motel. The floor and bed inside the room was blanketed with sand, but the boy collapsed on it with Koda settling at his feet.

The boy woke with a start and stared around the room. It was creepy. Faded clown pictures were everywhere. He knew where he was. Before the great fires, whenever he would pass this place in the back of his parent’s car, he would hold his breath. In school, kids would talk about it in hushed tones. Bad things supposedly had happened here, and it was known to be haunted, but he was glad they’d found it. His thoughts were interrupted when Koda started barking. The boy looked down at the dog. His hackles were up and he was spitting as he growled. Someone, something was there, and the boy grew nauseous with fear. He didn’t want to look, but he raised his head, his eyes trailing reluctantly behind, and glanced at the door. There was a man leaning there, grinning. The boy knew they were in trouble. He could smell the man’s open sores, see the meth and death in his eyes. The man’s fingers twiddled a knife against the denim seam that ran down his leg. The chh-chk-chh sound of the knife-edge skittering over the material made the boy think of giant insects. The boy knew that the man would eat them, sell them, or worse if given the chance, and he was afraid. What do we have here? A boy and his dog. Ain’t that sweet? Heheh, the man chortled as he mocked them. Koda tensed, muscles rippling beneath his fur, and stared menacingly. The man looked at the dog and almost thought better of it, but the payout was too great. These two would be a prize in many different camps. The man took a step inside the room, raising the knife, and Koda charged.

The boy stood frozen as dog and man collided, the razor-sharp edge of the knife skinning the fur from Koda’s front leg. Koda yelped but sunk his teeth into the man’s chest, knocking the knife out of the man’s hand before falling to the filthy motel floor. The man turned towards the boy, shoulders hunched, fingers curled, looking every bit the monster he was and tripped over the dog, hitting his head on the corner of the bed frame as he fell. The boy stood silently for a moment more, his eyes darting between the dog, the man, and the knife. He looked at the dog again. He thought of his family and the girl in the locket. He grabbed the knife from the floor and turned toward the groaning man, kicking him as hard as he could. He slipped in the blood on the floor and three years of fear and rage were unleashed. The boy threw himself on top of the prone man and began stabbing. Screaming wordlessly, he stabbed the knife into the man’s face, his eyes. Ooh Ooh Ooh. The man made monkey sounds as he died. The boy only stopped when the knife lodged and stuck. He was shaking, crying so hard he was struggling to breathe. He looked down at the mess that was once the man’s face and his eyes rolled back in his head as he passed out.

The boy woke a few minutes later to Koda whining and licking his face. The boy had thought the dog dead and started crying again, but this time in relief. He sat up and hugged Koda close to him. When Koda yelped in pain, he released the dog and looked him over. There was a puncture wound just under his front left leg and the fur had been fleeced from the wound to his elbow. A strip of fur and skin puddled around his paw like a discarded nylon stocking. The boy got his canteen and used the last of his precious water to clean the wound and sacrificed his bandana as a bandage to protect it. The boy was exhausted. He flopped to the floor, burying his face in Koda’s fur, and tried to find that elusive sliver of hope that had kept him alive these past few years. He stood up and walked to the doorway, careful not to look at the dead man on the floor and squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight. He didn’t see anyone else, so he grabbed his backpack and cautiously left the room, peeking in the other motel doorways. Two doors down, he saw a bag sitting on top of a bed. He stood at the doorway and listened. He called out, and after no answer, crept inside. He rummaged through the bag, careful to avoid the drugs. He found four cans of beans, some moldy bread, and on the floor next to the bed was a gallon jug of water. Score! He heard the step and scrape of someone with a limp and turned to see Koda entering the room. The boy used the Swiss army knife his dad got him for his 8th birthday to open one of the cans of beans. He started to toss away the moldy parts of the bread, but then remembered from science class that penicillin came from mold. Thinking of Koda, he carefully stashed the moldy crust into a corner pocket of his backpack. The rest of it though, they earned their feast and both boy and dog enjoyed the meal they shared.

The next morning, they set back out. The boy hoped it wasn’t too much farther because he could tell it hurt Koda to walk. The sun was rising higher in the sky and just when the boy was thinking about trying to find shelter from the noonday heat, he saw an old shack in the distance. Koda chuffed and noticeably perked up. Koda limped faster, his tail wagging in circles as they approached. Koda barked once as they reached the threshold. The boy heard a whimper from just inside the door. Visions of the girl filled him. He pulled the heart-shaped locket from his pocket and held it tightly in his hand. He hoped she wasn’t too badly hurt! He threw open the door and rushed inside. Ginger, a pretty, red shepherd mix, took the boy down and ripped out his throat with one swift move, killing him instantly. She barked and her pups came in, tearing into the boy. They yipped and slid in the blood, playing with their food. Koda sauntered in, pleased with himself. He nosed around the floor until he found the locket. He picked it up and carried it to the corner of the room and turned twice before laying down. The boy would feed them for at least a week. He would be able to rest, let his leg heal, before heading back out to catch another one.