The Journey Home by Brandon Wallace Page B

Taylor grabbed their things and sprinted outside.
    â€œJake!” Taylor cried, frantically looking in all directions. “Where did he go? Do you see him?”
    Jake didn’t reply, but his heart was in his throat. He quickly scanned up and down the street but didn’t see a trace of Cody anywhere.
    â€œOh, man!” Taylor cried. “We shouldn’t have left him out here alone, Jake! He probably got scared and wriggled his way free!”
    Jake knelt down to the base of the sign and saw that the rope Taylor had used to tie up Cody still lay in the snow, intact.
    â€œIt looks like he got out of that loop you tied,” Jake said.
    â€œWhat are we gonna do?” Taylor asked, pacing back and forth in the snow.
    â€œWhat would Dad say if he was here?”
    â€œHe’d tell us not to panic.”
    Jake nodded. “Right. So let’s calm down and use our heads.”
    Taylor took a deep breath and began scanning the snowy ground. “Look,” he burst out. “Are those tracks?”
    Jake and Taylor hurried to a spot a few feet away. The sidewalk hadn’t been cleared yet, and it was still covered by a thick layer of snow. The boys knelt down and, sure enough, found a fresh set of tiny dog tracks heading east—as clear as any deer trail snaking through a forest.
    â€œThat’s Cody,” Taylor exclaimed. “Let’s go!”
    Hitching their packs as they walked, the boys quickly set off after the terrier. They didn’t bother putting on their snowshoes, as most of the slush had been shoveled away from the streets and sidewalks. Fortunately, enough snow remained for them to follow Cody’s footprints as they headed across a bridge that spanned the Bighorn River, and then turned north. Jogging now, the boys followed the tracks for another couple of blocks, until they passed a sign reading HOT SPRINGS STATE PARK .
    Rising more than a hundred feet high to their right, a dramatic ridge of red rock stretched across the horizon. A few gnarled trees clung to the ridge, along with patches of sagebrush, but mostly it seemed barren anddesolate, like the mountains around Kim and Haiwee’s place.
    â€œLook at that!” Taylor exclaimed, pointing toward billowing clouds of steam rising up from the ground.
    â€œMust be the hot springs,” said Jake.
    The boys hurried over to a twenty-foot-high slimy lump of rock with water streaming down from the top of it.
    â€œWhat the heck is this thing?” Taylor asked.
    â€œI think the minerals from this hot springs built it up,” said Jake. “It’s all made from calcium or something like that.”
    Taylor wrinkled his nose. “It stinks like rotten eggs.”
    â€œSulfur from the hot springs,” Jake explained. “Still want to swim in it?”
    Taylor was about to answer, when instead he shouted, “Hey, Jake! There he is! Over there!”
    Jake spun around to see Cody in the middle of a large group of kids gathered outside a building a hundred yards away. A sign next to the building read MUSEUM in giant letters, and two full-size motor coaches stood parked in the parking lot nearby.
    â€œC’mon!” Taylor yelled, rushing toward the building. Jake ran after him.
    When they reached the crowd, Taylor pushed his way through to Cody, who was wagging his tail and soaking up attention from a dozen students.
    â€œThere you are!” he cried, squatting down to wrap his arms around the dog.
    Jake also made his way through the crowd, relief washing through him.
    â€œYou had us worried!” Jake good-naturedly scolded Cody, as he knelt down to pet him.
    â€œIs this your dog?” a redheaded boy asked. A second, almost identical redhead stood next to him.
    â€œYeah,” Taylor said. “He decided to go exploring.”
    â€œHe’s cool,” said a girl with short brown hair and pink glasses.
    â€œYeah, he’s all right,” Jake muttered, rubbing Cody