Although the two groups were now separated, neither of them fully realized it until the flight had ended. Rocky had mostly been caught in a daze. He troubled his mind with possibilities or any rational explanations as to why his friends were not seen boarding the plane.
Maybe they just went to first class, or snuck into the lower compartment, thought the mixed breed. He knew how being late was certainly out of character for Zuma, and most especially Chase. But because Ryder had asked him to watch for the four, it was only he who concerned himself with these thoughts.
But at last, the flight ended and the pups, especially Marshall, raced out of the plane. "Ah, what a relief," groaned the Dalmatian after scurrying onto the ground with his friends. Throughout the ride, the Dally constantly shivered at the thought of turbulence. But it was over now, he told himself. All there was to worry about was the ride home.
Once the pups all gathered in the airport to collect their belongings, Carlos started handing the bags to their owners.
"Okay, Liberty, I know you've been waiting on this," said Ryder, digging through the bin of pup tags and collars, "so here you go... hey Rocky, where's Liberty?"
"Well, um, about that," said Rocky, snapping out of his thoughts. "I didn't exactly... see her get on."
"What about Chase? Zuma? Rubble?"
The grey pup now looked down shamefully, somewhat blaming himself for the absence of the four pups.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm sorry," whined Rocky, "but it's just so unlike them to be late! I just thought, maybe they went into the lower compartment. I just thought that to ease my mind because I wanted this trip to be perfect," whimpered the recycling pup, lowering his head.
"Hey, it's okay," assured Ryder, petting his pup on the ear. "We'll just have to stay here a while longer. And see if we've got any stowaways," added the boy with a small smirk.
"Well, okay," said Rocky, somewhat beginning to lighten up. "That does seem like something they'd do."
Chase yawned as he watched the window, taking note of everything that passed. He laughed to himself, imagining how much Marshall would be flipping out right now. Zuma sat next to Chase, asleep. Rubble and Liberty sat behind them, talking about the rich foods Florida was likely to have (a conversation Rubble would not have been happy to change). Although they all pushed their worries to the back of their minds for the present, they couldn't help but feel that something was amiss. Something was terribly wrong.
It was around six hours when the pups arrived at their destination. But when the four pups exited the plane, they were shaken by what they found. The place they were in did not look anything like Florida. Rather than chill summer air and distant cries of joy from excited children, the pups found themselves surrounded by intense heat and even a few mountains in the distance.
"Um. You dudes cewtain we made it to Flowida?"
Zuma's question lingered in the air, as the rest of his companions thought it as well.
"Chase," said Liberty, putting her paw on the Shepherd's shoulder. "Please tell me we got on the right plane. Please," begged the dachshund.
"Uh, yeah, we did. Flight 16, the only thing Ryder tol-"
"No, no, no," interrupted Zuma. "He said flight 216."
"No, I heard him loud and clear," argued Chase. "Isn't that right, Liberty?"
"Wasn't really listening."
"Fine. Rubble?"
"I don't know," whined Rubble, clutching his stomach with his left paw. "I'm too hungry to remember anything."
"Why didn't you just accept the doggone peanuts?" asked Liberty, annoyed.
"I told you six times! I don't like the way that stewardess looked at me."
"Whatever," interjected Chase, "point is, we need to wait and see if our friends get off."
"I'm just gonna go see if the baggage pops up. Ciao," said Zuma, heading down one of the airport's halls.
"Wait!" exclaimed Liberty, running after the Labrador. "It's about time I got my pup tag back!"
"Huh," snorted Chase. "Guess it's just you and me, Rubble. Rubble?" The Shepherd turned his head, looking for his missing companion. It wasn't long before he found him, repeatedly bashing himself against a vending machine.
"This is gonna be a long... long day," stated the police pup with a sigh.
It was now 9 PM. Surprisingly, the time zone in Florida was the same as it was in Georgia. However, with it being 6 PM in eastern California, Zuma grew increasingly suspicious. Being the water pup and all, he knew very well the time zones of major aquatic landscapes. Their flight was six hours, starting at 3. And yet it barely felt like any time had passed since they'd left the Lookout.
As the Lab and Dachshund sat near the baggage claim area, Zuma broke the silence. "What time is it?"
"Time for bed, or that's how it feels. Although it's still kinda sunny out."
"I mean, clockwise. Thewe any clocks awound hewe?"
"I dunno. I don't read much," Liberty responded absent-mindedly.
"We've got some sewious discussions ahead of us," noted Zuma after a short pause. "You can tell time, can't you?"
"Yeah, of course. I go by shadows. That's how I learned in Adventure City."
"Shadows. Well, that fixes evewything," snorted Zuma.
"Ooh. Do I detect some snark? Cause that's usually my thing."
"Sowwy. I'm just tiwed. It's been a long day, I haven't felt waves in two days, and I miss Wocky."
"Yeah, we all miss something," Liberty responded with a small sigh. "Are our bags coming or what? And where's Ryder?"
"Something's not wight," said Zuma, staring off at the nearby crowd of families as if they held an answer.
"Guys!" shouted Chase, running up to his friends. "I've got some bad news."
"Oh, golly," Zuma said sarcastically. "Whatevew could it be this time?"
"So I realized it's still six. We left the Lookout at three. And that got me thinking. So I asked that woman over at the desk where we are, even though I already knew. I needed reassurance. But then she said something that made my heart stop beating."
"What?" asked Liberty. "Don't give suspense, spit it out!"
"We're in California," the Shepherd whispered in a hoarse tone.
"California?" Liberty asked, eyes now wide.
"...Which pawt? Cause thewe's a beach hewe I'm named afte-"
"Zuma. We got on the wrong flight," Chase reminded. Reality truly began to hit Zuma like a freight train in this moment. For once, the Labrador was hit with a situation he couldn't counter with his calm attitude or easy-going nature. Something seemed to snap within him. Something crucial, holding his sanity together.
"Libewty. Be a good giwl and hold me back."
"Uh, why?"
"Because I'm about to stain my paws," growled Zuma.
"Zuma, listen, I-" Chase's apology was cut off by a barking Lab, whose yellow eyes glared at him, practically screaming bloody murder. Liberty wrapped her paws around Zuma's waist, desperately trying to restrain him.
"Lemme at him! Lemme at him!" Zuma howled between barks, attempting to attack Chase. The police pup stood in shock, having never seen Zuma angry before.
"I'm gonna wip his spine out!" shouted the chocolate pup. "You think you know police bwutality?! I'll give you an example wight now!"
"Stop... making a... scene," Liberty grunted, holding Zuma down with all the might her front legs had to offer. The nearby families looked at them in confusion and awkward silence, wondering what could have caused such an outburst.
"Zuma, please. Please chill," pleaded Chase.
"You'we gonna think chill! You-"
All three pups were suddenly lifted by two nearby security guards. A tall, thin man with a goatee lifted Chase, while a shorter Nepalese man picked up Liberty and Zuma in both arms. After throwing the pups outside onto the hard ground, the taller man shouted.
"Don't come back! Animal control will tan your hides if I see you again!" The shorter man slammed the doors shut, swearing under his breath.
"Oh, hey guys," greeted Rubble as he sat, eating what looked to be an abandoned bag of Doritos. "What took you all so long?"
"A betwayal," said Zuma, looking at Chase angrily.
"Zuma, I really thought we went on the right flight. You gotta believe me!"
"Oh? Mr Fantastic Chase made a mistake? That's a fiwst!"
"Zuma, please calm down. It was an honest mistake. You should have corrected me!"
"I thought you knew! You know evewything! You boss us awound and pwetend to know what's best fow evewyone, even if we don't like it! Well, I've had enough!"
Chase listened to Zuma, a confused look in his eyes. Had Zuma really felt like this deep down? Sure, Chase could be too bossy sometimes, but that was his job. He was supposed to know what was best for his friends. But this was different. The water pup openly expressed his disappointment about not being able to help on missions before, and Chase had to comfort him a few times. But there wasn't really anything other than that he could have done. Still, Zuma was one of the pups he considered family, and it hurt to hear all this from him.
"Zuma, please listen. I really am sorry. I am! I'm just used to being the boss. That's the job Ryder gave me. I guess I've been a little hard on you. I just wanted this trip to go right. Just please let me go get help. We'll be back with Ryder in no time, and I'll try not to be so pushy. I promise," said Chase, doing a small salute to show Zuma he meant business. The water pup's mood seemed to soften at the explanation, but there was still a hint of reluctance in his eyes.
"Okay," Zuma said simply. "But the second you get all pushy and stuff, I'm outta hewe. Got it, dude?"
"Yes. I've got it," said Chase, taking Zuma's words of understanding as a temporary sign of forgiveness.
"I doubt they're gonna let us back in there," sighed Liberty.
Rubble sat on the airport pavement, still letting everything sink in. "We can't even buy tickets for a ride home," he whimpered.
"Well, there's gotta be a police station nearby," said Chase. "I'm a fellow officer! They'll understand. Maybe they'll even help us get a private jet to Orlando."
"Not a bad idea," said Rubble, kicking aside the now empty Dorito bag.
"Where are we anyways?" asked Liberty, looking around.
"Uh, I think the lady at the desk said Red Oaks Bay. Just on the border of Nevada."
Rocky whimpered as Ryder held him close in an effort to comfort him. By now, the rest of the pups and Carlos had gone to the hotel rooms, leaving the two to wait as they may.
"This is all my fault," Rocky said, tears slowly growing visible in his eyes. "And the worst part is I can't even... call them," the grey pup added, eyes trailing down at the four idle collars remaining in the bin.
"This isn't your fault," Ryder assured, petting his pup softly. "I should have assigned more pups to be on the watch. You can't beat yourself up about this."
"But I can!" exclaimed Rocky, standing and looking at his owner as tears trickled down from his amber eyes. "I should have told you they didn't get on! But I just sat there like an idiot and said nothing! I told myself when we were planning this trip that I should stay behind. I was right."
"No, Rocky. Understand something. You're valued, just like the rest of the pups. You're not the only one who lost them," reminded the boy, tears now appearing to his eyes slowly. "You guys are like... my kids. What kind of father am I? To have led them into this mess?"
Understanding that he wasn't the only one in pain, Rocky nuzzled his owner before letting a few tears fall.
"Ryder, I... I'm sorry."
After a short pause, Ryder hugged his pup, responding slowly as he let out tears of his own.
"So am I."