"Ooooohhhh, what have we here?"
That was the first voice Chase heard as he woke up against the tree early the next morning. He looked up to see Rubble standing there, grinning evilly.
"Chase and Zuma, sittin' in a tree," sang Rubble teasingly, "K-I-S-S-I-N-"
"Shut up," growled Zuma as he stirred, blinking rapidly to shake the drowsiness from his eyes.
"Aw, come on, guys. It's cute."
"Isn't," Zuma whispered quickly, standing up and looking back at the Shepherd nervously before stretching.
"You guys ready?" asked Liberty, knocking over the lean-to shelters playfully. "Today's a big day, boys."
"We're still on about this?" asked Chase, standing before letting out a satisfied yawn. He still never fully believed they'd try to walk all the way back home, and at least thought they could try once again to get help. They were still within a populated area, mind you.
"Of course. Now, what's the saying? The sun rises in the East and sets in the West?"
"Yeah," Chase replied nonchalantly. Looking at the rising sun, the dachshund faced away from it, pointing her nose a little to the right. "Assuming my memory of the map of the United States is crystal clear, and trust me, it is, we'll be heading that way," Liberty announced, using her snout to point to a good southeast route.
"Okay, professor," said Chase, playfully rolling his eyes. "I'll play your little game. But the second we meet up with someone who owns a vehicle or the intention to help us, I'm outta here. And while you guys are dragging your sorry butts across America, I'll be waiting for you at the Lookout in relaxation."
"Okay, whatever," said Liberty, shrugging aside Chase's comment. "I really hope Ryder and the gang are doing okay. They must be worried sick."
"And we still can't even call 'em," sighed Rubble.
"I knew I shouldn't have took my pup tag off," said Liberty, staring off sadly. "I'm back to square one."
"You've still got us," said Zuma, getting an idea of where Liberty's mind was trailing towards. "Besides, it's not like things could get wowse."
"Don't jinx it," said Rubble, looking at Zuma as if he just committed treason.
"Welax," said Zuma, trying to push aside all his worries. "Things will be just fine. I've got a good feeling."
"Well, we heading out or not?" asked Chase.
"Yeah."
"Of course."
"Suwe thing, dude."
"Please tell me no one has to pee," said Chase, looking at Rubble in particular. Grinning sheepishly, the bulldog responded, "Nope. We're good, let's go!"
Chase remembered the last time Rubble claimed he didn't have to urinate. It was about a year and a half ago, when Ryder decided to take the pups on a nature walk, right after they'd helped out a family in the woods just outside Adventure Bay. Rubble swore to the heavens he didn't have to go. The group was relaxed the entire time, without a care in the world. But then just somewhere in the middle of it all, Rubble had to go. He claimed he wouldn't take that long, right before spending ten minutes choosing the perfect tree. He had wandered so far in the woods, Ryder and the pups spent a great chunk of the afternoon searching for him. They all got lost for a short period of time, sort of like now. But it was different then. They had Ryder with them. They had a full team. They knew exactly what to do. This time, yes, it was different. The four pups were stuck in the wild, and now they had nothing. No communication devices, no pup packs, no pup mobiles, no Ryder to guide them, and no sense of belonging. They had only each other and their wits, just as nature had intended.
The day slowed to a crawl as the four began their journey. Chase, still ever being the same authority figure he was born to be, took the lead. Zuma, Liberty and Rubble followed suit. Although the friends remained quiet, their minds rushed with questions. How were the other pups doing? Were they still able to enjoy themselves, despite the absence of half their team? How long would it be before they saw them again? The pups thought deeply to themselves about these topics. They were placed in one of the world's most perfect accidents. They had taken the wrong flight, and the others had absolutely nothing to do about it. They had no way of knowing what became of their comrades. At least, for the moment.
"Please. It would only take a second!"
"Hold on," said Officer Farrell, a middle-aged man working his daily sheriff duties in Adventure City. Currently, he was on the phone with Ryder, who was absolutely pleading with him. "You want me to go down to the Adventure Bay airport, and scout for some pups?"
"Yes! Please, Dean. It would mean so much."
"Ryder, I understand you're really under a lot of stress right now. Heck, I would be too, in your situation. But I'm working a busy shift today. I can't cut out, go completely out of my jurisdiction just to go on a wild goose hunt for some missing puppies. I'm sorry, Ryder. Really."
The boy sighed, doing everything he could to hold in his emotions. Farrell was a close friend of Ryder's father before he passed, and he was often there for the kid whenever he was down in the dumps, or needed advice when it came to parenting his pups. This, sadly, could not be one of those times.
"I lost my pups, sir. That's not something I can just shrug off! They need me. They're probably lost, scared, confused! I can't just leave them to their wits. Please, sir. Please."
Rocky and Marshall sat in the hotel room with their owner, feeling quite upset. Not only were their friends missing, but they'd never seen Ryder like this. Never once had he ever been on the verge of tears in front of them. He never begged or pleaded with anyone for anything. He always remained strong in front of his pups. But with his calm attitude gone, what could he do but be vulnerable to whatever nightmarish roller coaster his emotions led him on?
"All right kid, listen," began Farrell, trying to reason with the closest person he had to a nephew. "I got a cousin down in Foggy Bottom. He's retired, but I can convince him to go take a look. If anyone can find out where your pups are, it's old Ernie."
"Oh, thank you, thank you sir! Thank you for understanding."
"Yeah, anytime. I wish you the best. I really do. But remember something. If your pups can handle half the stuff I hear about them doing on the news, there's no way they've been thrown down a path they can't handle. Trust me. Now, try and enjoy your vacation."
"Okay, sir. Thank you." Ryder then hung up, sighing in relief.
"You okay, Ryder?" asked Marshall, looking genuinely concerned for his owner.
"Yes, Marshall. I've got someone who's going to check the airport for them. For now, let's try to have a little fun, okay?"
"All right," said Rocky, still unable to shake the feeling of uncertainty. As Ryder left to check on the others, the mixed breed looked as if he were about to cry. "This sucks," he said, stating the obvious. "I still feel kinda guilty for all this. I can't even enjoy this vacation because it's practically killing us."
"We're past that," assured Marshall. "The whole blame game. It's not about whose fault it is, or who caused it. Right now, all we can do is pick ourselves up, and try to fix now, not yesterday."
"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" asked Rocky sarcastically. Seeing that Rocky was still disturbed by his previous actions, the Dalmatian decided to use a different tactic; analogies. The grey pup loved to waste any time possible coming up with fun or complicated analogies, let alone trying to understand them.
"Rocky. You know how you pick up garbage people leave behind?"
"Yeah, my entire job revolves around it."
"What do you do with all that trash?"
"Recycle it, of course."
"Which requires turning something old and worn into something shiny and brand new," the Dally stated, smiling positively at his friend. "Yesterday is old and worn. Yeah?"
"From a point of view, I guess?"
"But today. Tomorrow. The day after. All brand new opportunities. Chances to change and fix the broken, Rocky. Just like the trash, the days can be mended. Not in a way we'd like. But that's all we can do. Stop looking at something for what it was, and instead look at the opportunity for it to be changed for the better."
"So, what are you saying exactly?" asked Rocky, somewhat skeptical.
"You can't fix the past, right?"
"Right."
"So don't. Fix the present. Only in doing that, can you fix the road ahead."
Sure, Marshall's logic was on the nose and even clumsier than himself, but in that moment he truly gave every helpful word he could muster.
"Thank you," said Rocky softly, patting the Dalmatian on the shoulder. "I sorta needed to hear that. You're right. I can't keep kicking my own butt about this."
"There ya go! That's the spirit!"
"But it doesn't change the fact that I can't talk to Zuma," said Rocky, looking down once more.
And back to square one, thought Marshall.
"Welcome to your life," sang Rubble
"Thewe's no tuwning back," added Zuma.
"Even while we sleep," they came together in unison.
"How many times have they gone on like this?" asked Liberty, clearly annoyed by the repeated song.
"No idea. Stopped counting a long time ago," huffed Chase, trying to hold his frustration in. But it took more than he could handle. Already he looked at the several trees they passed, calculating if a fall from one of them would be enough to kill him.
We will find you
Acting on your best behavior
"Chase, please make it stop."
Turn your back on mother nature
Everybody wants to rule the world
"Guys, please-"
It's my own design
It's my own remorse
Help me to decide
"For Pete's sake!"
Help me make the
Most of freedom and of pleasure
"NO!"
Nothing ever lasts forever
Everybody wants to rule the world
"STOP IT!!"
There's a room where the light won't find you
Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down
"Please just kill me and be done with it!"
"When they do I'll be right beh..."
"Oh, my god!" exclaimed Chase. "A miracle! I've finally gone deaf!"
"Wubble? You all wight?"
"Um. I got to, uh, you know," Rubble explained nervously.
"Oh, gee wizz. Rubble, you said you didn't have to go," Chase reminded.
"Yeah, hours ago!"
"We've literally had nothing to drink all day."
"I have a very picky bladder," argued Rubble, trying to give Chase the puppy dog eyes. It was not working.
"You know, the last time you had to go, we ended up right here," Chase pointed out.
"Hey, don't you blame me!"
"Guys, guys!" shouted Zuma, silencing the two. "I'll go help him find a spot. You guys, just... be you guys. Cool?" he asked, looking at his friends.
"So cool," said Liberty, at least grateful the two had stopped singing. The bulldog and Labrador vanished into the nearby trees, searching for a perfect spot. This left the Shepherd and Dachshund alone, just like yesterday. It finally occurred to Chase that he meant to question her about something she'd said.
"Well, that's honestly a huge relief for me. I don't know about you, but I-"
"What was his name?"
Liberty was completely caught off guard. She had an idea of what Chase was asking, but she couldn't fully be sure. "Umm, what?"
"His name."
"Who's name?"
"Yesterday, you said you'd done some bad things in your life. Almost as if it involved someone else. I know someone must've caused a great pain. Who?"
The dachshund stuttered. She knew Chase was onto her. But she wasn't comfortable talking about it. At least, not yet. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," countered Chase, now slowly getting closer to Liberty. "No one taught you how to lie. That's why you're so terrible at it." At these words, Liberty tensed up. She wasn't fully willing to admit it. She wanted no one to know. What would they think of her if they knew? "Please, Liberty. I know it's hurting you. You're only hurting yourself more by shoving it down, deep inside."
"No!" Liberty suddenly shouted. Clearly she didn't mean to yell, as she surprised both herself and the Shepherd. "I-I mean... I'm not, I... I shouldn't have said anything. Please don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong. Just... just drop it."
"Liberty-"
"I said drop it!"
Chase stood there, his mouth agape. He looked as if he'd just witnessed a murder. He saw the rage in Liberty's eyes, but also sadness. Longing. Frustration. After a full minute, the Shepherd closed his mouth firmly before speaking. "Fine. Suffer in silence. I'm not your parent." All behind gritted teeth. Clearly neither had the patience to talk to each other about this. It was best to just let it go before anyone got hurt.
"SOMEONE! HELP!" came Zuma's shrill cry from within the dense foliage. Chase looked at Liberty, and Liberty looked back. Without a word, they both shot into the direction of Zuma's voice. They jumped over the logs and through the little streams of water, desperate to find their friends.
"Guys! We're coming!"
"Well, hurry," came Rubble's frightened whimper. There was fear in his voice. Chase didn't like it. Perhaps it was then that a primordial instinct took over. A member of his "pack," if you will, was in trouble. He didn't like it. Not one bit. As the two pups leapt into the clearing, they saw what scared their friends. Somehow, the two managed to crawl up a tree to hide from it. The creature gazed up at them from the base of the tree. It swished its tail, licked its lips, before one ear stood up, clearly detecting the pups behind itself. The great cat turned to face these new creatures, hungrily gazing at them with its spiteful, animalistic eyes. With a demonic grin that spread from one ear to the next, the mountain lion greeted its prey in a deep voice, cold enough to freeze even the warmest of flames.
"Hello... new friends."
The greeting was accompanied by silence. The pups had absolutely no idea what they were to do. They truly felt frightened and unprepared for this sort of situation.
"What? Never seen a mountain lion before?" the great cat asked venomously. "Well, might I ask what four young pups are doing, rushing so blindly into my hunting grounds?" he asked, slowly pacing between the two separated sets of pups, revealing his teeth every now and then as he talked.
"We were just passing by," said Chase calmly. "We didn't mean to disturb your hunt or anything. Please, uh, let us go and we won't trouble you again."
"Hmm. A very outspoken pup, I see. Your deal is not without its merits. But then again, why should I turn down food so freely, when it journeys carelessly among my borders?"
The pups gulped hard. They knew they were stuck between a rock and a hard place now. They could either try to reason with the predator, or fight him off to escape. Neither seemed ideal to the pups.
"Please, let us go. We'll even help you find food, how's that sound?"
"There isn't a promise you can make that I trust, mutt!"
The mountain lion put a lot of emphasis behind the last word, showing his fangs as he did so. Chase and Liberty sat nervously, doing their best to come up with a reasonable bargain to save themselves. Zuma and Rubble held onto the tree branch, shaking out of fear. It was their only defense.
"The last pup to come through here, I made very quick work of," grinned the beast, now looking back and forth between his prey. "Who is to say this time will be different? Hm, I believe I know. Might I propose a game?"
"A... a g-g-game?" Liberty stammered.
"Yes. Why don't I let you all run for but a minute? I'll give chase when the time comes. What's a little hunting without a little effort? Don't worry, I will make your deaths quick once I catch up to you," the great cat boomed with a small, heartless chuckle.
"Wa-wait," Chase nervously stuttered out. "Wh-what if-"
"One," said the mountain lion, preparing the count. The two youngest pups dropped from the tree, Rubble comically crushing Zuma under his weight as he landed on him.
"Two," continued the wild cat, closing his eyes, as to give his prey a little privacy. He wouldn't need his eyes in the long run. He deemed his other senses too great to let them escape. The four pups scurried out at fast as they could, going in two seperate directions.
Slowly opening his eyes after a dramatic pause, the beast grinned to himself maliciously as he said the last number.
"Three."
Rubble panted, running alongside Chase. "This is frickin' crazy!" he complained. "The one time we don't have our gear! We could easily take him out with my rig! One of your nets! Your tennis ball shooter! My-"
"Listing the things we don't have isn't gonna help us!" Chase exclaimed, cutting Rubble off. Now wasn't the time to dwell on what they lost or what couldn't be done. Now, they could only help each other out of this mess. They both stopped near a river, the rushing waves were all they could hear over their own breathing.
"This is insane," Rubble panted, crawling weakly to the water. "In... sane." The bulldog stuck out his tongue, bathing it in the cool liquid. He eagerly lapped up the chill, flowing taste of nature's springs. Chase took a short moment to join him. The two were soon refreshed after taking the time to gather their wits.
"None of this makes any sense," Rubble thought aloud, shaking his head. "First, we end up half way across the country. You can cook rabbit, I find out you and Zuma are having some sensual love affair, and now we're being pursued by a giant cat? We really need a plan here."
"Yes, you're ri... hey, what was that about me and Zuma?"