DogForge by Casey Calouette Page B

face them. His eyes glistened in the sun and he bared his teeth. “Now! Now is our day! They fear us so much that they’d doom our children to be exiles.”
    His words hung in the air and he swung his head from side to side and peered into the eyes of those before him. “Now! Now we show them what the chosen ones can do. It’s time to finish what we started. Run! Run like we own this place,” he turned and howled. “Because soon we will!”
    He trotted forward, turned one last time, and howled back. “Fight now for your pups!”
    Denali, as nervous as she was, felt a stirring in her chest. She was proud, she didn’t quite know why, but this was her moment. If she failed, she failed while striving to remain a conscious being, not as a pawn or a wild thing. Then she remembered that Samus, and Samson, wanted her dead. She set her muzzle low and waited for the call.
    “Come!” Grat bellowed to Denali.
    She ran to his side and listened as he bowed his head.
    “Get the other young ones, all of you stay together.”
    “We can help!” Denali said.
    “No,” his voice boomed. “You’ll stand by my side another day.” Grat rested his nose onto Denali’s neck and then stood straight again. “Now go, get ready!”
    Denali yipped through the pack and rounded up the others. They followed her grudgingly with heavy packs weighing them down. They feigned disinterest until the marauders made them snap to. No one wanted to follow the lead of the runt.
    They began to move, at first in a tight bunch but then into the shape of two wedges. Wedges tipped by fang and claw with an eye for violence and a taste for blood. The ash bloomed behind them in a great billowing cloud. Through it the light drifted in clouds of darkness with a shift of red. The dogs marched forward, faster, almost at a gallop.
    The defenders emerged in even greater groups and came together to meet the attackers. Howls and barks grew louder and more dogs emerged, wild eyed, covered in dirt and rust.
    Denali could smell it. A smell like she’d never known, a smell of violence, anger, and fear. She ran faster and snapped her head from side to side. She yipped out in excitement and the others around her followed suit in a cacophony of song. The marauders said nothing and trotted faster.
    The two lines grew closer and the groups formed into clusters directly opposing each other. The pace was set by the maulers, the heavy armored mercenaries loped as fast as they could manage. Ivan snarled in the lead and thrashed his head from side to side.
    Then, they met.
    There was a crashing of meat on meat. It was a heavy thud echoing in rib cages. It was followed by a gnashing of teeth that sounded like ivory smashing onto ice. Then the roar, a deep guttural thing, violent and filled with rage. The lines merged and the wind engulfed them all in broken ash, the remnants of some long lost war.
    Denali charged with the other unblooded dogs. She heard the violence, the roaring, the thrashing and was afraid. But still, she ran towards the sound. The first corpse she came upon was of a brown dog with his throat shredded and raw.
    The other unblooded dogs set upon the wounded and the dead and relished the task.
    Denali turned away and felt a sickness rising in her stomach. She knew then that she was different, there was no pleasure in her at the dispatching of the wounded.
    They pushed farther into the ash cloud. The first of the rust covered hulks emerged and Denali knew they were past the edge. The defenders line had broken.
    The wind, broken by the wreckage, lost all energy and the gathered ash fell. Beyond was the wastes of machines.
    Denali stumbled past heaps of shredded wire. She stopped in the clear air and stared down, just for a moment, at one of Karoc’s disciples. His name was Rader and his eyes were gone from his head. The other young ones slowed and the yipping stopped.
    They sprinted past the somber wreckage and skirted over metallic feet, thrown tracks, and dead