[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
fresh cut fries. None of it seemed to fit together, but the incongruence, while jarring, was like a wonderful
puzzle for my brain, picking apart the scents and trying to identify each.
Nick nudged my hindquarters. When I didn t move, he nipped my haunch. I swallowed a snarl and
settled for flicking my tail in his face before sliding out.
I went only far enough to stop blocking the way, then glanced around. The look was more habit than
necessity. If anyone was here, I d smell him.
Once all four of us were out, we split up. Antonio and Nick took the side streets while we d search the
ground behind the hotel. That meant their territory was tougher to cover, but ours was far more
vast instead of circumscribed paths along sidewalks and back streets, we had train tracks, open
grassland and parking lots.
I started with the tracks, which ran along the rear of the hotel over to Union Station. After five minutes of
that, Clay bumped my shoulder, telling me to give it up. He was right. The stink was too
much creosote, diesel fuel, pesticides and whatever else decades of use had dumped into the soil.
We headed for the maze of sidewalks, green space and covered walkways that linked the SkyDome,
CN Tower and convention center. The wind whistled around the empty buildings, the distant clomp of a
security guard s boots was the only sign of life. Here we became canine scent vacuums, loping back and
forth over the open areas, noses to the ground.
We eventually ended up down a small hill, in a desolate piece of wasteland that earned a tidy sum as a
parking lot during baseball season. As we crisscrossed the lot, I found what we d been hunting
for zombie rot.
I let out a doglike bark, calling Clay over. He snuffled the ground between my forelegs, then grunted.
We split up, Clay tracking the scent one way, me the other. When I realized my trail headed away from
the hotel, I doubled back and took over from Clay.
Once out of the parking lot, the tracking was slow going too many other people s scents joined the
zombie s& and it was the male zombie, who didn t stink as bad as Rose.
When headlights flashed behind us, Clay bumped me into the shadow of an advertising sign, and we
huddled there while the cars disgorged by a red traffic light zoomed past. Coast clear, I headed back to
the sidewalk& and couldn t find the trail. It was so faint and overlain with other scents that I had to
backtrack to pick it up. Half a block later, it vanished again.
As we stepped away from the streetlights to let more cars pass, Clay nudged me and gave a slow shake
of his head. With the trail this faded, it probably wasn t recent. True, but it was the only one I had, so I
veered around Clay and kept following it.
The longer I insisted on following the trail, the more incensed Clay became. By the time we neared the
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
hotel, Clay was furious, growling and jostling me as hard as he dared. Several times he strode off, but
when I didn t follow, he came back, mood fouler. When he nipped my haunch, I spun on him, ears back,
snarling. He returned my snarl and we faced off, growling and snapping until footsteps sent us both diving
for cover.
A couple passed on the distant sidewalk, laughing, arms around each other. As we watched them go, a
sigh shuddered through Clay s flanks. He looked over at me and gestured, asking me to just leave the old
trail for a while, and we d come back if we couldn t find a better one.
I lowered my nose to the ground and inhaled. Yes, it was the bowler-hatted zombie s trail, but at least
four others crisscrossed over it& and there couldn t have been that many people across this grassy patch
since dark.
As I lifted my head, I caught another sent. Faint but&
I strained, my nose twitching. I gestured for Clay to follow, continuing in the same direction the
bowler-hatted zombie had gone.
He growled, patience evaporating. I smacked the bottom of his muzzle with mine, directing his nose. His
eyes widened as he caught Rose s scent.
I bumped his side, snorting a See, I was right. He swatted me with his tail, then, as I turned on him,
tore off after Rose s scent, leaving me to catch up.
We slowed as we entered a service road. From up ahead came the clicking of nails on pavement. I
sniffed, then let out a sharp yip. Clay circled me, tail swishing, eager to be off now that we might have a
target.
I was about to yip again when Antonio slipped from the shadows ahead of us, with Nick at his heels. I
made a show of sniffing the air. He dipped his muzzle in a nod, and signaled left. I followed him. Within
twenty feet we hit Rose s trail, which they d already been following.
I snuffled along it for a bit, back and forth, then looked up at Clay. He grumbled deep in his chest, eyes
doubtful. This trail was stronger than the bowler-hatted zombie s, but didn t seem any more recent.
When I motioned I wanted to follow it, though, he grunted his agreement. We were about to set out
when Antonio stepped in front of me. I backed up, presuming he wanted to lead. Pack hierarchy can be
a tricky thing. Technically, as Jeremy s spokesperson, I outrank Antonio. Yet he was my senior and
the stronger wolf so the distinction was questionable. In a hunt, Clay and I followed Antonio s lead.
When I fell back, though, he snorted, and gestured for me to lead, but cautiously. He must have seen or
smelled something up ahead earlier probably people. So we proceeded in a single file down the empty
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]