The Empty City Read Online Free PDF Page B

pricked his ears, and eagerly sniffed the air. Elusive but distinct, the scent made his stomach churn with anticipation. Food!
    He bounded toward its source. Meat! Meat was cooking on one of those metal longpaw fireboxes! The invisible fires that made the raw meat turn dark, that made the food-smell so strong and tangy and …
    A bird clattered from a tree with a flap of black wings, bringing him to a startled halt. He needed to slow down. Hunger should not make him reckless. He knew from experience not every longpaw was friendly when it came to food. Some of them were reluctant to share, protecting their food the way Mother-Dogs protected their pups.
    Still, he wasn’t about to give up altogether. At a more cautious pace he padded forward, his fur bristling all over with longing. He could almost taste the food now, feel it filling his belly, warm and satisfying. Not far now! Not far!
    He paused in the shadow of a stunted tree, his tongue lolling, jaw wide and grinning, his tail thumping the ground hard and fast. There it was: a rundown wooden longpaw house, set in overgrown grass and shaded by straggly branches. And there was the firebox, gently sizzling and steaming. And there was the longpaw—well-fed, by the look of him, with a belly that bulged right through his fur.
    And there—also looking well-fed—was his Fierce Dog.
    They were both snoozing in the shade, the longpaw sprawled on a raised surface by the firebox, the Fierce Dog lying at his feet. Lucky knew its kind from many a tussle over food. It wasn’t very big, but it was deep-chested and heavy-jawed and, probably, short-tempered.
    But maybe this one would be happy to share?
    Lucky hesitated, catching a tiny whine in his throat. The food-smell was so tempting, but …
    Why were they here? Weren’t all the longpaws gone, or dead, like the friendly one in the Food House? Why hadn’t this longpaw left, too? Dozing beneath the Sun-Dog like this, he seemed not to have noticed the Big Growl at all.
    Or maybe this longpaw was dead, and so was his Fierce Dog? Lucky sniffed the air uncertainly. The strong tang of grilling meat could have been masking the death-smell....
    Warily Lucky took a pace forward, then two, his tail raised, his muzzle dripping with eagerness. He licked his chops. Neither the longpaw nor his dog moved.
    He had to try. Close to the firebox now, Lucky eyed a chunk of sizzling meat. The distance and angle were just about right....
    He lunged.
    The longpaw’s eyes flew open, and he leaped to his feet, brandishing a stick. His barks stung Lucky’s ears. The Fierce Dog had woken too, springing to the attack position, legs stiff as he unleashed a furious volley of fight-barks.
    â€œGET BACK! It’s MINE! Want to fight me for it? FIGHT ME OR RUN !”
    Lucky was no match for the longpaw’s stick, let alone for the Fierce Dog and its savage jaws. Turning tail, he bolted from the garden, sharp terror overwhelming the gnawing ache of hunger.
    He leaped a crumbling wall and raced down the hard road. He was sure the Fierce Dog must be chasing him, but he didn’t dare turn to look. If the Fierce Dog caught him, he wouldn’t stand a chance. His paws skidded on the broken and uneven ground, almost tripping him. Panting, heart thrashing, fear biting hard at his guts, he bolted along a road that seemed never to end.
    Until it did.
    Blackness opened before him. He automatically flung his weight sideways, halting his momentum, his haunches scraping painfully on the rough road surface. His claws rattled against unyielding stone, his tail lashed over hideous emptiness, and at last he stopped, aching with terror and pain. His injured paw throbbed with each beat of his heart, and Lucky was sure the wound had opened again.
    He raised his head. He was lying on his flank on the brink of a vast black hole in the earth. He scrambled to his feet and lowered his head to sniff fearfully at the crack in the road. It was