The Return by Dayna Lorentz Page B

formation he wanted to move in.
    â€œI want Dover and Boji to take the flanks, and Daisy, you take rear point.” He turned his snout to Zeus. “You stay in front of Daisy.”
    â€œAye, aye,” grumbled Zeus in a lazy drawl, as if this was all boring. As if organizing the pack wasn’t the most important step in moving a group of dogs. Then again, Zeus’s wild pack was like a litter of pups — every dog running whichever way their noses took them. And that’s why his pack was defeated. Organization is critical —
    â€œThis is a bad idea,” yipped Pumpkin. “A super-bad idea.”
    â€œWhat is it, sweet snout?” yapped Ginny. Shep wondered if he should keep those two from woofing. The last thing he needed was for Ginny to help Pumpkin become an even bigger burr in his fur.
    â€œWe’re going to look super scary to a human, moving as a big pack,” Pumpkin continued. “I think we’d do better moving as one or two dogs, you know, just casually loping on the Sidewalk like it’s no big deal.”
    â€œHow am I supposed to defend the whole pack when it’s broken into bits and scattered all over the street?” growled Shep.
    â€œDefend us?” yipped Pumpkin, unaffected by — or ignoring — Shep’s tone. “From what? The key, I thought, was to make it to the beach without getting nabbed by the dog catchers.”
    â€œShe does have her teeth in something with that,” muttered Ginny.
    Shep growled to himself. He was feeling a bit like maybe he should have left the little white fluffy ball of contradictory opinions in her cage.
    â€œWe stay in formation through the Park,” he snapped. “When we reach the street, I’ll reevaluate.”
    Callie gave him a concerned sneer, one snaggletooth caught on her jowl. Zeus snickered, betraying his enjoyment at seeing any obstacle in Shep’s path.
    Shep took his position at the front of the pack, careful to keep Zeus’s scent directly behind his tail. I’ve got my nose on you, Zeus , Shep thought. You’ll have to work pretty hard to pull the bedding over this dog’s snout.
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    Shep kept the dogs under the cover of the trees, moving directly toward sunrise, and soon ran into a wide road. Fuzz caught up with the pack and said that he’d run up and down along the road, and that it was the same one they’d crossed under through the tunnel.
    â€œRoad swing away from cold winds, then back toward sunrise,” Fuzz hissed. “Dog-pack follow road, yes?”
    â€œGood find, Fuzz,” Shep woofed.
    Fuzz flicked his tail, then sprang ahead of the pack along the road.
    The cat’s loyalty to him confounded Shep. Fuzz had every right to hock hairballs at Shep for what he’d done. Shep had tossed the cat and Honey out like ripped toys, abandoned them to be killed by Zeus. Fuzz never meowed anything about it, never asked for an apology, but how could he not blame Shep for Honey’s death? Shep wondered what Fuzz would do once they found the shelter. He said he would stay with Shep, but when he saw his family, would he go home, too?
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    Shep led the dogs farther under the trees but followed the road’s curve away from the cold winds. The woods were fairly quiet — there was an odd lack of life. He took a deep scent of the air and pricked his ears.
    â€œWhat — snort — has got your tail in a twist?” barked Daisy.
    He smelled that familiar scent: death and dirt.
    Wild dogs.
    â€œGet back in formation,” he growled. “And get ready to run.”
    Shep smelled Zeus become more anxious. He must have scented his old friends. I’m sure they’ll have some questions for you…. Shep thought.
    Shep caught the scent closer, near a rotting tree some twenty stretches off.
    â€œTo the road,” he yipped to Daisy. “Now!”
    The pack bolted away from Shep, all except Zeus, who stood with