DoG by Unknown Page B

One of the last things I remember about that night was seeing Alison arguing with him and wiping her mascara-stained tears on the white lace sleeve of her wedding dress. They would split up within six months. When my dad told me about their impending divorce, I vowed to call Frank and offer my sympathies, which I never did.
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    3
    Culann awoke to Alphonse’s insistent tongue against his face. He pushed the dog away and forced his eyelids open. Frank was still out cold. Alphonse whined up at him.
    Culann got up and pushed open the front door for him, but the dog evidently didn’t need to use the bathroom. Culann certainly did, so he shut the door and went into the tiny WC
    for a long leak. He tried to flush the toilet, but nothing came out. After finishing, Culann almost tripped over Alphonse, who pressed against his leg as he returned to the living room.
    “Frank, there’s something wrong with your toilet.”
    He didn’t answer. Culann went into the kitchen, Alphonse clinging to his heels the whole way. Culann poured himself a bowl of Cheerios. Alphonse sat at his feet, staring up at him. Figuring he was hungry, Culann poured kibble into his dish, but the dog ignored it.
    “Frank, do you want any cereal?”
    He didn’t respond, so Culann ate the cereal dry with Alphonse lying over the tops of his feet. After finishing, Culann tried the radio again. Not even static came out.
    “Hey, Frank, wake up.”
    He continued to lie still. Culann reached over and shook his shoulder. No
    response. Employing an old trick from boyhood slumber parties, he pinched Frank’s nose shut. His face felt cold.
    Culann jumped up and wiped his hand on has pants. He charged out of the trailer to look for Worner in the ridiculous hope that the piss-poor paramedic could somehow raise the dead. Alphonse followed closely behind. As they ran the quarter mile to Worner’s place, every dog in Pyrite began to bark. Those dogs that were outside and unchained followed, while the rest shouted encouragement to the others rushing by.
    Not bothering to knock, Culann shoved his way into Worner’s shack. Alphonse and three other dogs crowded along with him into the humble living room. Worner lay face down on the floor, not moving. An orange housecat lay on its back beside him like an overturned table, its tiny pink tongue hanging from its mouth. The dogs whined up at Culann. He backed out into the road and dropped to his knees, stunned by the sights of Frank and Worner dead, and the realization that others were likely gone, too. He’d fled civilization to live with these rugged outsiders who died just after they’d accepted him.
    Frank was the only person in his life he could rely on, and he’d grown close to Worner and McGillicuddy in their time at sea. Yesterday he’d imagined that they’d formed a lifetime bond through their adventures. Today Culann was alone in the world.
    “My dad’s dead,” a small voice called out from behind him.
    He turned and saw Gus’s daughter, looking every bit as beautiful as the night before. Her hair hung down to her shoulders. She wore a UAF Nanooks t-shirt that came down to the tops of her thighs. If she wore anything else, Culann couldn’t see it. Her eyes were puffy from crying. He rose to his feet.
    “Worner’s dead, too,” he said. “And my cousin, Frank.”
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    She nodded. Culann walked over and put his arm around her shoulder. She fell sobbing into him. He inhaled the lilac scent of her hair and squeezed her tightly for a few moments, savoring her sweet vitality while contemplating the death around him.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, pushing away. “I don’t even know you.”
    “My name’s Culann.”
    “I’m Constance.”
    “Something bad has happened. Something big. We need to figure out how big.”
    She nodded.
    “I’m going to check each house. You can come with me if you want, but you
    might not like what you see.”
    She thought about it for a second and then said, “I want to go with