Page 76 of Junkyard Dog

“Watch your step, Butch,” she warned, the relative normality of the statement releasing a fraction of the tension built up in her stomach. “The ground’ll move again soon.”

A chuffing sound drew nearer, Butch’s enormous head peering through a sliver-sized opening above her position. He backed away and resumed his chatter while he paced the top of the stones, his paw or muzzle periodically dropping into the opening for a few seconds.

She slid her flashlight into her pocket. “I think I know the way out,” she muttered, taking a final look up at the dog before she sat, scooting down the slope and cowering as another ripple shook the stones around her.

*

Alex jumped backas the rocks trembled under his feet, the scent of Charlotte’s fear permeating his senses and overwhelming his mind. He tore to the edge of the formation and scanned frantically for an opening, descending the rocks slowly for fear of causing a disturbance to the compromised structure.

Winding through the narrow passageways, he scoured for a way to her, maintaining a continual loop of barks and yelps so she could track his location. His footing stumbled as he closed in on a cavity, straddling two larger stones to peer into the darkness.

Bingo.

He dropped to his belly, inching toward the opening until he had enough room to sit back and push his head through, his shoulders catching.

Too fucking big.

He glanced up to the sky and assessed the stars.

It would be hours until sunrise. Hours more until her car was found, tucked tight against the Chasm and out of view of the main roads.

Checking his balance one last time, he leaned against a rock to brace himself as he transformed, shifting his weight to keep from falling forward and ducking down to squeeze into the narrow crevice. He shimmied between two large stones, shuffling one foot forward to test the stability of the pathway before he placed his weight down.

“Butch? Where’d you go, boy?”

Her breathing was more labored, her voice holding a hint of her rising distress.

He ran his hand over the smooth rock and let out a long breath. “Just me,” he answered. “I’m coming at you from the side, so hold still.”

There was a moment of silence before she whimpered. “Alex?”

His throat tightened at the hopeful relief in her voice. “Yeah, baby. Just me.” He knelt down, contorting his shoulders to squeeze through a low pass. “I think I’m closing in on you, okay? We’ll team it out of here.”

She let out a shuddered breath. “My exit’s blocked on this end. That last one shifted a boulder at the halfway mark.”

He pushed through the opening and rose to his feet, stretching his hands overhead to get a sense of how much space he had. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I’m going to keep talking to you,” he said, straightening up. “And if at any point my voice moves away from you, I want you to tell me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He crept forward, guiding his movements in the darkness with his bare hands and feet. “I don’t know what to talk about,” he muttered, running his fingers along a crack. “I suppose I could tell you about a Vietnam documentary I watched a couple weeks back, but it’s pretty detailed and I’m aiming to have you out pretty quick.”

She let out a small laugh, the shallowness of her breathing weighing heavy on his mind. “Tell me how you found me.”

“Funny story,” he called out, waving his arms out slowly and moving closer to her voice, the upper walls of the cavern dipping down and forcing him to crouch. “I made the lucky decision to celebrate my first earthquake with a midnight hike through the Chasm.”

“Smart ass,” she replied quietly. “And there’s dozens of quakes a month around here, so it wouldn’t be your first anyway.”

“You’re on the other side of this rock, aren’t you?” he asked, feeling around the cavern to determine how much space he had. “Good news is it’s loose. The bad news is I need you to listen real well, and move real fast.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Step back fromthe rock,” Alex ordered, tracing the boulder with his fingers. “When it moves, dive through and go. It’s a pretty clear path from here.” He could hear shuffling before a flicker of light radiated around the tiny cracks around the rock. “Steady that beam for a second.”

“Good?” Charlotte asked, the ray holding still.

“Perfect,” he replied. “I’ll be opening it from the bottom, so drop, dive, and go,” he amended, arching his neck back and rolling out his shoulders in preparation. “Don’t wait for me, okay? I’ll be good.”

“But—”

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