Race to Refuge

Chapter Seventeen: Ty

I gasped, flinging myself backward away from the glowing eyes. But as I pushed away from the creature, I backed into a tree that was behind me. I closed my eyes, half-sobbing, waiting for the attack.

And felt a large tongue licking my face.

I reached up with my hand and felt a furry body. A big one. I wished I had a flashlight, some way to really see. And someone must have read my mind because at that moment the moon came out from behind the clouds and shone down on a large German shepherd who was giving me dog kisses.

Relief flooded me and I put my face down in the dog's fur and finally let the tears fall that I'd been holding back the last couple of days. It was so good not to be alone. Being so completely alone ... that was what was tough to handle.

The dog must have felt alone too, because it curled itself around my back. I lay down again, this time a lot more relaxed, and fell asleep.

The first light of dawn woke me and I smiled before I even opened my eyes. I could feel the dog's fur against me as I woke up. It sat right up when I did, grinning at me in its dog way. I spotted a collar and reached out.

"Mojo?" I asked him and he wagged his tail to confirm it. So this was someone's pet. Had Mojo's owner turned into a zombie? Or had he just gotten separated from him?

"Hey buddy," I crooned and the dog instantly lay on its back for a tummy rub. This was a sweet dog. The only problem was that I had no idea how I was going to feed it. Or myself. Besides being worried sick over Ginny, I was also worried sick over the fact that the van with all of my supplies in it was gone. Right now I had a couple of homemade weapons and some water. That was everything I had in the world right now. I felt that wave of responsibility wash over me again now that I had another living creature to look out for again.

Somehow my tension must have been picked up on by Mojo. He sat up and regarded me solemnly with his amber eyes. "I don't have any food for you," I told him. "But I know where water is. What happened to your owner, boy?"

Mojo kept staring at me. But he seemed sad, his head hanging.

"Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to have a breakfast of water. Then I'm going to see if I can find my sister, Ginny." I suddenly wished I had something with Ginny's scent on it. Weren't German shepherds the type of breed that were search and rescues? Maybe somehow I could get Mojo to at least listen or look out for people, in general. With his big ears, long nose and large eyes, he was like a surveillance super-animal.

Mojo leapt to his feet, ran off a yard or two and gave a short, sharp bark as he turned around to stare at me.

He was obviously trying to get me to follow him. His eyes were intent on me, totally focused on getting me to follow him.

"Okay, boy," I breathed. "I'm coming. Do you know where Ginny is? Do you?" It seemed totally unlikely, unbelievable. But he definitely wanted me to follow him for something. And it wasn't like I couldn't look for Ginny along the way to wherever we were heading. I picked up my stick and a rock to take with me, although now I felt a lot safer with a big dog on my side. I left the water, hoping we could find our way back to the campsite later. Every once in a while, I took the rock and notched a tree.

We walked for what seemed like forever. Long enough for me to wish that we'd brought water with us. Mojo was surefooted and determined, pacing himself so that I could follow him ... sometimes stopping to wait for me to catch up as he led the way. Finally, after we'd been walking for what felt like a few hours, walking through the woods and then looking out on the road for the van, and with no sign of Ginny, Mojo sprinted ahead of me, running to one spot and giving another bark.