Looking into Keeva’s eyes, Furgul could tell that all the stories were true.
“When you’re a little pup,” said Keeva, “a greyhound and a lurcher look just the same to the masters. But you’re growing up fast. Your chest and shoulders are getting too big for a greyhound. I can see it. Soon Dedbone will see it too. And lurchers aren’t allowed to race at the track, so you’re worthless, at least to him.”
Furgul had a horrible thought.
He asked, “Does that mean you’ll get in trouble for being in love with Argal?”
Keeva gave him a dog smile and licked his face. The lick felt good.
“Your brain is bigger than a greyhound’s too,” she said. “But don’t worry about me. As long as I’m the fastest, Dedbone won’t do me any harm. And I aim to be the fastest for a long time.”
Furgul had another thought, even more horrible than the last.
“But what about Nessa and Eena and Brid? They must be lurchers like me. Does that mean Dedbone will think they’re worthless too?”
Keeva’s eyes darkened. “That’s why I want you to escape tonight. You can show them how it’s done. If you can do it tonight, maybe they can do it tomorrow.”
Furgul loved Nessa and Eena and Brid. He looked at them snoozing together in a heap at the back of the whelping cage. They were beautiful and good. How could they be worthless, just because they weren’t pure? Furgul’s throat trembled with a growl.
“Will you do this for me and for your sisters?” asked Keeva. “Will you be brave and make me proud?”
“Yes,” said Furgul. He swallowed his rage. “I’ll make you proud.”
The sun began to sink in the gold and crimson sky beyond the mountain. Furgul knew that soon it would be time to make his escape. Keeva had told him not to tell his sisters, in case they became too excited and gave away the plan. That meant Furgul could not say goodbye to them, and this was hard. But he was strong and he obeyed his mother.
He practiced the plan in his mind until it felt perfect. He knew he could get to the truck and jump into the crate and hide beneath the newspapers. At least he would be with Keeva on the journey to the track. He would snuggle right up to her belly all the way. He knew he could hide until he heard the cheers of the gamblers. He knew he could escape from the parking lot. After that—when he was free—he had no plan at all.
Furgul was scared. But he thought of the father he had never seen, the mysterious outlaw—the legend, the ghost, the vision—named Argal. And he thought of his mother, Keeva, the fastest and the most beautiful. And he thought of his sisters, Nessa and Eena and Brid. And even if he did not know what he would do when he was free, he knew that he would make them all proud. Or he would die.
“Furgul,” said Keeva. “Get ready.”
Through the bars of their cage Furgul saw Dedbone walking toward them.
All masters were bigger than the greyhounds, but Dedbone was a monster. He had a big head with greasy black hair and a neck as thick as a tree trunk. He had strong arms and meaty hands with knuckles like big red walnuts for punching the dogs. His belly spilled from his pants as he swaggered across the yard, kicking up sparks from the soles of his steel-toed boots. His mouth was scarred and twisted. His eyes were small and dead, like pellets of sheep dung. He devoured a leg of fried chicken as he came, and the hungry dogs watched him from their crates and licked their lips.
Behind Dedbone came the two bullmastiffs, slavering from their big fat mouths and flashing their big sharp teeth. Walking next to Dedbone was another master, whom Furgul had never seen before. He had eyes like sheep dung too, but he wasn’t half as big as Dedbone. Furgul had the feeling he was one of the masters who gambled on the dogs to make money. They stopped at the cage, and Dedbone pointed at Keeva and puffed out his chest.
“Boast, boast, boast!” droned Dedbone.
Dogs learned a few words of the master tongue, the ones that they heard all the time like “No!” and “Sit!” and “Go!” and “Cage!” and “Bad boy!” But the rest was mainly gibberish. The masters thought they were clever, but the fact was that dogs could learn at least a little of the human tongue, whereas masters were too stupid, or too lazy, to learn any of the dog tongue at all.
Not a single word.
Dogs didn’t need to understand all human words because they could read what humans were feeling. Most humans couldn’t read dogs at all. In fact, they couldn’t even read each other. Furgul couldn’t translate what Dedbone was saying, but he knew the sound of boasting when he heard it.
“Brag, brag, brag!” bragged Dedbone.
After being angry and nasty, which he was more often than not, Dedbone liked to brag and boast more than anything in the world. Keeva said he liked to gloat and wave a big fat wad of cash, especially when he beat his friends at the races. Most of all he liked to boast about Keeva. To hear Dedbone talk you’d think that he was the one who ran the races.
Dedbone threw away the chicken leg. The hungry greyhounds watched as the Bulls squabbled for it. Dedbone bent closer to Keeva’s cage. His face was blotchy and red. His hairy nostrils flared at the stink from the unwashed concrete floor. Yet his own breath stank of something so vile it made Furgul feel dizzy just to sniff it.
“Gloat, gloat, gloat!” Dedbone went on.
But then the other man—the Gambler—pointed at Furgul.
“Sneer, sneer, sneer!” sneered the Gambler.
Suddenly Furgul felt very bad, though he wasn’t sure why.
The Gambler stabbed his crooked finger at Nessa and Eena and Brid.
Though he still didn’t know why, Furgul felt even worse.
The Gambler scoffed and laughed. “Scoff, scoff, scoff! Jeer, jeer, jeer!”
Dedbone’s face turned even redder than usual. He scratched his head, and greasy white dust tumbled over his shoulders. His eyebrows squirmed and his mouth went all pouty with rage. He bent over and stared at Furgul through the bars of the cage. He stared for a long, long time.
Furgul stared back at Dedbone. He’d never seen a human face at such close range before. Dedbone was ugly, but the pocked skin, the bad teeth, the red nose and the pale dog-bite scars didn’t bother Furgul at all. What bothered him was Dedbone’s stare. Furgul felt as if the stare were sucking the life from his marrow.
Keeva let out a whimper of alarm.
Furgul had never heard Keeva whimper before.
Dedbone and the Gambler turned around and walked away. The Gambler was still laughing. He seemed to be laughing at Dedbone. Dedbone was so angry he couldn’t even shout. The Bulls lingered behind and grinned and slavered at Keeva through the bars. The Bulls didn’t have dog names. They answered only to the names that the masters gave them—Tic for the male, and Tac for the female.
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” said Tic.
“Who’s been a naughty girl, then?” said Tac.
Tic and Tac barked together—“Rowf, rowf, rowf!”—which was their way of laughing. Then they turned and followed Dedbone across the yard.
Keeva paced around the cage in a state of panic. The girls woke up.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” asked Brid.
“You’re scared, Mama,” said Nessa.
“Yes,” said Eena. “What’s wrong?”
Keeva stopped pacing so the sisters wouldn’t be frightened. “Nothing, my loves,” she said. “I’m just nervous about the race.”
Furgul didn’t believe that this was the reason. A race could never make her nervous. He tried to catch her eye, but Keeva avoided him. Suddenly Furgul realized what had just happened. And he knew that he wouldn’t be escaping after all.
“They know, don’t they?” asked Furgul.
Keeva still could not look at him. She didn’t answer.
“The Gambler could see what we are,” said Furgul. “He told Dedbone that we’re not real greyhounds—we’re not pure—we’re just lurchers—”
“Enough!” said Keeva.
She looked at Furgul. Her brown eyes were filled with a sa
dness so deep that Furgul wanted to cry. He wanted to lick her face to make her feel better. But Keeva turned away again. Nessa and Eena and Brid huddled together at the back of the cage and said nothing. Keeva hurried over and crooned a song to comfort them. The sisters crowded beneath her legs and licked the teats on her belly to show that they loved her. Furgul wanted to join them. Instead he stood tall and waited by the door of the cage.
“What do you want me to do, Mam?” he asked.
Keeva stopped crooning. For a moment she couldn’t speak. She blinked away the tears in her eyes. Then she turned to look at him.
“Stay close to your sisters,” said Keeva. “Remember your father, Argal—the fiercest, fightingest dog that ever I saw—and be brave.”
Furgul smelled something foul—something evil—and turned his head.
Dedbone and the Gambler were coming back across the yard. Between them they carried a brown cardboard box that was almost as big as a cage. In the crook of Dedbone’s arm was a double-barreled shotgun. Furgul had seen him use it to kill crows.
Furgul turned back to his mother.
“Sure, Mam.” He swallowed the fear in his throat. “Whatever you say.”
CHAPTER TWO
THE BOX
As soon as Dedbone opened the door of the cage with his huge meaty hand, he slapped Furgul aside and grabbed Keeva by her collar, then shoved a muzzle on her snout so she couldn’t bite him. Eena and Nessa and Brid whimpered with terror. Furgul, dazed by the blow, watched Keeva howl and struggle as Dedbone dragged her from the whelping cage and locked her in a nearby crate. The sound of her cries broke Furgul’s heart. He was small and weak and he didn’t know what to do. Then he saw that Dedbone had left the whelping cage open. Furgul slipped out the door, past the fat, slavering Bulls, and ran toward Keeva.
“Mam!” barked Furgul. “Mam!”
“No!” barked Keeva through the bars. “Run away!”
Furgul sank his teeth into Dedbone’s ankle. But his teeth couldn’t penetrate the leather. Dedbone laughed and kicked him in the chest with a steel-toed boot. Furgul flew through the air, gasping with the pain. Tic and Tac came after him and laughed as they gouged his ears and face with their big yellow fangs. They could have ripped him apart but they wanted to torment him. Furgul fought back, his own fangs flashing, and ripped open one of Tic’s nostrils. Tic backed away with a whimper of shock. Then Dedbone kicked Furgul in the head, and everything went dark.
When Furgul came to his senses, he was inside the big cardboard box that Dedbone and the Gambler had brought with them. Inside the box with him were Eena, Nessa and Brid. The top of the box was closed, and Furgul heard ripping sounds as the flaps were sealed shut. Then the pups tumbled about as the box was lifted from the ground and carried away.
Furgul could hear the masters panting and puffing. Once, the masters dropped the box and the pups were thrown into a squirming tangle in the blackness. Furgul heard Dedbone cursing him and his sisters in his bitter, hateful voice. The Bulls barked with glee. The box rocked over and almost caved in as Dedbone kicked it with his boot, and the pups bounced around inside in a state of panic.
Nessa and Eena and Brid cried out in fear, and one of them—or maybe all three—peed all over the place. Furgul didn’t blame them. He kept telling himself: Be brave. Be brave. But he no longer knew what being brave meant, or what good it could possibly do them. The masters picked up the box again and on they went.
A moment later the box flew through the air and landed with a dull clang on something metallic. Doors opened and slammed. There came a roar and a tremble and a shudder. A burning, choking smell filled Furgul’s nostrils. Then everything moved forward and they swerved first one way and then another. Faster and faster they moved, with more and more roars and shudders. Furgul realized they must be on the pickup truck. He noticed a beam of light coming into the box through a rip in the cardboard on one side. He stood on his hind legs and put his eye to the rip and looked outside.
Green fields and blue skies whizzed by. In the distance he saw that the big wire fence that surrounded Dedbone’s Hole was already far behind. Behind the wire he saw the long stacks of greyhound crates and the squalid cage where he and his sisters had been born.
“What’s happening?” cried Eena.
“Where are we going?” asked Brid.
“I want to go back to Mama,” said Nessa.
Furgul’s heart ached. He was filled with despair. He didn’t know where they were going. He couldn’t tell them what was happening or why. He couldn’t tell them they would never see Keeva again. Perhaps he should. But he couldn’t. What could he do?
What could he do?
What could he do?
What was the last thing that Keeva had said to him?
Remember your father.
“Argal,” whispered Furgul. Once again the very name gave him courage.
Argal would never give up. He was fearless and wild. Argal would escape. Was there a way to escape from the box? The Bulls had been left back at the farm. Their smell had faded away. So there was only Dedbone and the Gambler to worry about. If Furgul could get his sisters out of the box—before they got to wherever Dedbone was taking them—they could jump off the truck and run away.
Into the Doglands.
Furgul tried to widen the rip in the box with his claws, but the cardboard was too thick and too strong. He scrabbled around, searching for a weakness. His nose led him to a patch in the corner that had turned all soggy with pee. He clawed at it as hard as he could. The soft, wet cardboard peeled away in strips. But Nessa and Eena and Brid were so upset they were whimpering and squirming about, and their legs and bodies kept getting in his way.
“Listen,” he barked. “Be still. Be quiet!”
His bark was so fierce that the girls stopped all at once.
“Okay,” said Furgul. “We’re going to sing that song that Mam taught us.”
Their eyes shone with fright in the gloom. They didn’t seem very keen.
“I’ll start,” said Furgul. “And you can join in.”
“Once a jolly greyhound camped by a riverbank
Under the shade of the meaty snack tree
And he sang as he sat and waited for the snacks to fall
Who’ll come a-waltzing with Keeva and me?”
Nessa and Eena and Brid were so sad they started crying. But they joined in the song.
“Waltzing with Keeva, waltzing with Keeva
Who’ll come a-waltzing with Keeva and me?
And he sang as he sat and waited for the snacks to fall
Who’ll come a-waltzing with Keeva and me?”
While they sang, Furgul returned to the wet patch of cardboard and scratched and scratched and scratched. His claws began to hurt, but still he scratched. His claws felt like they were going to be ripped out of his toes, but he scratched even harder. A mound of damp peelings grew between his feet. The cardboard got thinner and thinner. Suddenly his paw burst through the wall. He could feel the wind on his pads. He pulled the paw back in and started to make the hole bigger. The wind rushed into the box. The girls stopped singing.
“What are you doing?” asked Brid.
“We’re going to escape,” said Furgul. “Get ready.”
“But where will we go?” asked Eena.
“To the Doglands,” said Furgul.
“Can’t we go back to Mama?” asked Nessa.
Furgul turned on her.
“No!” he said. “Mam doesn’t want us to go back. Never ever ever. She wants us to be free.”
Furgul twisted his snout into the hole and took a bite of the cardboard in his teeth. He pulled and pulled and chewed and chewed, and a big piece ripped away. Now the hole was big enough to push his whole head through. And he did.
A lurcher is a sight hound. Furgul’s eyes were so good he could spot a squirrel in a tree at half a mile. Through the window in the cab of the truck he could see Dedbone and the Gambler. They were drinking amber liquid from a bottle that t
hey passed between them. The truck roared along a desolate road that wound up the side of a craggy, barren mountain. In the side of the mountain Furgul saw a cave. He remembered the stories the old dogs had told. The mouth of the cave was jagged and black and in his gut he knew that the cave was the end of the road.
The hole in the box was still too small for his shoulders. He pulled back inside and took another bite. All the soggy cardboard was gone now, so the work became much harder than before. His face hurt from the bites of the Bulls and Dedbone’s steel-toed boot. His jaws hurt from the biting and the ripping. But he didn’t give up. The hole got bigger. He pushed his head out to test it. The hole was tight but big enough for him to squeeze through. He turned back into the gloom of the box.
“Nessa,” he said. Nessa was his favorite. He knew he shouldn’t have a favorite sister, but he did. “You go first.”
“I can’t,” said Nessa. “I’m too scared.”
“I’ll go first,” said Brid.
Furgul didn’t have time to argue. Nessa had missed her chance.
“Okay,” said Furgul. “When you’re out of the box, Brid, jump off the truck and run as fast and as far as you can. Don’t let Dedbone see you, no matter what happens.”
Brid plunged her head through the hole. Furgul rammed his shoulder under her tail and shoved hard. Brid popped out of the box. She scrambled to her feet on the bed of the pickup truck. She gave Furgul one last look. A love of adventure gleamed in her eyes, and he remembered she was Argal’s daughter. Then he watched her leap over the side of the truck. She landed and rolled on a bright green bed of moss. Her legs powered her forward down the glen. She did not look back. And then she was gone.