Page 74 of Junkyard Dog

His phone vibrated as it filled with texts from Max.

He’d gone to her apartment.

The place was a wreck.

And empty.

He dropped his head to the steering wheel and swallowed in vain to rid himself of the lump that sat in his throat.

Where the hell are you?

He sped back to his campsite, kicking up a spray of sand as he braked. He turned off the engine and opened the door, yanking his boots off his feet and tossing them into the back seat. His clothes were next before he swung the large black collar around his neck and slammed the door shut, wedging the keys under a handful of sand behind the back tire.

Swinging his head to the sky to orient himself by the stars as he transformed, he tore southeast over the sand and rock with more agility and speed than he was capable of in human form. The silence of the desert in the aftermath of the quake amplified the scattering of stones under his paws as he ripped over the terrain hunting for any remnant of Charlotte’s scent.

Where are you, baby?

He paused at the entrance of the Jumbo Rocks campground, lowering his muzzle to the ground when a familiar stench hit him.

Pirithous.

His ears flattened back, his hackles rising as he skulked through the empty sites, the scent path strengthening as he moved closer to a cluster of smooth rocks stretching high into the black sky. Following the foul odor, he pawed his way over the formation, stopping once he breached the peak.

It had been there.

Within the hour.

He scanned the darkness for movement, bracing himself as another aftershock rippled under his feet, the stone ledge he stood on quivering.

He needed to find her.

He needed to track the bloodline.

He had a lead on one, and a shot in the dark for the other.

Lowering his nose to the rocks below him, he locked on to the Pirithous and descended the smooth stones until his paws hit the sand.

*

Charlotte took adeep breath and contracted her shoulders, shrinking back into the cavern as the ground trembled under her boots again. She tucked her head down in anticipation of the shower of loose sand and stones that filtered through the rocks surrounding her, remaining motionless until the movement subsided.

Howling.

She froze, her heart jumping into her throat as a gravelly howl echoed through the rock, an unfamiliar voice joining in with punctuated growls.

“Not-Butch!” she yelled out, inching her feet along the narrow path, her fingers grazing the rock surrounding her. “I’m here! Here, boy!”

The dogs went silent, the complete stillness of the post-disaster desert stretched out as the seconds turned to minutes until a faint howl punctuated the silence in the distance.

About time, Butch.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Alex stilled, thefresh stench of the Pirithous coating his nostrils and tongue, overpowering every other scent in the desert. He lowered his muzzle to the ground, burrowing his nose into the sand in a desperate search for any hint Charlotte had passed through the area. Shaking the dust from his face, he arched his head back and scented the air for the only odor that could carry for miles in the still night.

Death.

Rot.

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