Read Wild Dog City (Darkeye Volume 1) Online

Authors: Lydia West

Tags: #scifi, #dog, #animal, #urban, #futuristic, #african fiction, #african wild dog, #uplifted animal, #xenofiction

Wild Dog City (Darkeye Volume 1) (12 page)

Beside her, Tareq, looking furtively at
Mhumhi, tugged at her wrappings and gabbled something.

"What's he doing?"

"He wants more meat," said Maha. "I could've
given him the rest of mine."

Mhumhi gave her a warning look, and she
subsided.

"Why doesn't he talk more?"

"Cause he's little, and he also doesn't
understand much Dog."

"Much… dog?" Mhumhi repeated. "What do you
mean?"

"I mean, there's what we speak, and that's
Dog," said Maha, scratching her forehead with her blunt nails. "And
then there's what the hulkers speak, and that's- I don't know the
word for it. Hulker language."

Mhumhi thought it over, wrinkling his brow.
It had not occurred to him that the language he spoke might not be
shared by all. "If there's a hulker language, why don't you speak
it?"

"Cause I'm not a hulker, I'm a
dog
,"
she explained, as if he were stupid. "My first and third mamas were
dogs."

Mhumhi gazed at her, and she sighed. "Our
mother was my third mama. My first one, I was in a family of
domestics and they took care of me and some others. I think- I
think my…"

She paused for a moment, then used a word
Mhumhi did not know. "My
human
mother got killed, so they
took care of me and some other puppies, but then the police got
them and they killed all of them but not me. I got into a little
pipe like that one where they couldn't get me." She grinned, baring
her square teeth. "They tried and one fell in and died. So they
left me alone."

Mhumhi looked nervously up the long tunnel in
the ceiling again. It would be a terrifying fall down onto the
concrete below.

"Then I went and found Tareq and his mama,"
said Maha, putting her hand on little Tareq's head. He was coughing
and whimpering again, his face somehow streaming wetness. It made
him smell even sicker, and Mhumhi leaned away from him.

"That was my only hulker mama," Maha said. "I
didn't like her. She tried to make me learn hulker language and
everything and wouldn't give me meat. But she didn't last long. She
never came back one day. Same as your mother."

Mhumhi stiffened a little. "And how long were
you with… my mother?"

"I don't know," said Maha. "A little while. I
thought we'd be able to stay with her. Or at least me. Tareq cried
all the time."

Tareq sniffled loudly at this, seeming to
recognize his name.

"And now she's gone too," said Maha, and she
looked upwards for a moment, perhaps at the long tunnel, perhaps at
nothing. "And now all we have is you wild dogs. I bet you'll eat
us."

Mhumhi decided the option was still on the
table. "What do you mean, wild dogs?"

"I mean not domestic, right? Mean dogs that
kill people. Domestic dogs don't do that."

Mhumhi felt a little slighted. "We don't just
go around killing people!"

Maha gave him a flat stare. "They killed and
ate up all the hulkers I knew."

"Well, hulkers aren't
dogs
."

"Yeah they are!" Maha aimed a kick at him
with one of her hind legs, which he sidestepped easily. "You wild
dogs eat your own kind! You wanted to eat me, didn't you! I
know
you did!"

Mhumhi raised a lip, suddenly very angry in
spite of himself, because he did, in fact, still have that
desperate urge. He thought bitterly that it would leave a great
deal more meat for the rest of them, especially Kutta.

"I'm not going to eat you," he said, "so shut
up about it. Be glad I even came down here to feed you."

"I bet it's just because Kutta said!"

"I said shut up!" Mhumhi growled, and stepped
close to her, letting her see his teeth, making her cringe down and
whimper.

Tareq said, "Bad dog!" and Mhumhi shot him a
look that made him clamp his mouth shut.

"You're meaner than Kutta said you were,"
muttered Maha.

"I'm not mean!"

"We're puppies, and you're mean to us!"

"You don't even act like real puppies!"
Mhumhi said, a tad desperately.

"You don't even act like a real dog!"

"Oh!" said Mhumhi, and gave a little thrash
of frustration. "If I was a
real
dog, I guess I would have
eaten you already!"

Maha opened her mouth, then shut it again,
her lips trembling.

"Now I have one more thing to ask," he told
her, pacing a little in the small room. "Listen carefully.
Tomorrow, if I scratch on top of that hole, will you move the
top?"

"Why?" she asked, her voice oddly
quavery.

"If I know where it is aboveground, I won't
have to drag things through the sewer," said Mhumhi, thinking that
it should be fairly obvious. "You need blankets, and those candle
things, don't you? If I find the top, I can drop them down." He
paced a little in the small room, pondering. "You should climb up
there and put something strong-smelling at the top. That will help
me find it."

Maha was staring at him. "You're going to get
us candles and blankets?"

"Yes," said Mhumhi. "Unless you don't think
they'll help him get better."

"No, they will," said Maha, wide-eyed. "If
you get the really smelly candles, it makes it smell better down
here."

"I still have to figure out what a candle
is," said Mhumhi. "Is there anything else?"

Maha said, slowly, "Kutta said fruit…"

"It's too hard to get," said Mhumhi. "Nothing
to trade for it."

"Oh," said Maha, downcast. "Then no. Nothing
else."

"All right," said Mhumhi, shooting another
dubious look at the hole. "Remember to make it smell really
strongly. If you could mark it, that would be the best, but…"

"I can," said Maha. "I think I know what to
do."

"Then do that," Mhumhi said. He was feeling
weary from all the excitement of the day, and from growling and
being mean. "I'm going to leave now."

"All right," said Maha, her eyes still big,
and reached her hand out- his head gave an arrested jerk- and
scratched him under the chin. "Goodbye, Mhumhi."

The sensation was still bizarre to him, and
he stayed still for a moment, not sure if he liked it or not. It
felt strangely intimate.

"Goodbye," he said, and turned around. "Close
the door."

He heard Maha getting up behind him, on her
two legs, and gave a little shudder. He was glad when he was out in
the concrete hall and away again. It was all so strange… too
strange.

The hulkers left in him an unease that he had
never felt before, the kind of unease that came when something that
looked so un-dog talked and acted like it had feelings like a dog,
thoughts like a dog… He shuddered again, still feeling the hulker's
touch on his chin.

If they were dogs, why did his every instinct
tell him to bear them down, bite them silent? He had never felt the
urge to kill before he had stepped into that room. It was as if
there were parts of himself he did not even know. Or… two parts of
himself, separated, coming back together again for the first
time.

He did not like it. He found himself wishing
passionately that the hulkers did not exist, for it was their
fault… they had brought out this strange bloodlust in him.

His thoughts were dark as he trotted back
into the large drainage chamber, but then he had to pause. An odd
scent had come to him. It was nothing like the queer pale scent of
the hulkers- rather, it was heady and strong, certainly strong
enough to come to him over the odor of all the sewage. He took a
deeper whiff. It was certainly a living thing, perhaps a dog- he
sniffed harder- perhaps not a dog, for he had never smelled
anything like it.

Again his thoughts turned uneasily to what
Bii had said about there being other things in the sewers, and he
glanced back behind him, at the stairs leading up to the narrow
concrete tunnel. He almost wanted to go back, just to check… But
no, that was pointless, the scent was not even coming from that
direction.

Mhumhi licked his lips. If he could utilize
the round tunnel in the ceiling, he wouldn't even have to come down
this way again, which had been his intent. Now he felt slightly
more urgent about it. That scent provoked a strange feeling of
foreboding in him.

As if to confirm it, there suddenly came a
strange cry. Mhumhi went stock-still.

It was muffled from the sound of rushing
water all around him, but when it came again he was certain he had
not imagined it: a low, lonely cry, like a moan, echoing all around
the chamber. It seemed to be a question, or an inquiry: a sort of
where-are-you?

Mhumhi almost found himself wanting to
answer, to whine and invite the stranger over for a greeting, but
no, that would be quite a bad idea. He went to the wire railing and
put his paws over it, pricking his ears, but the cry did not come
again, and he saw nothing but murky sewage underneath the
spotlights cast far below.

The unknown scent was fading away, too, as
deeply as he inhaled. He found himself strangely disappointed.
Whatever it was, it seemed more familiar and more friendly than a
hulker.

10

The
Store

The next morning, while he was giving Kutta
his excess meat, he informed her of his idea.

"I told the little hulker girl to mark the
entrance at the top," he said, "and we can go and search for it
aboveground and drop things down in there for them."

Kutta finished gobbling up the last of the
meat, licking her lips, digesting his words. Mhumhi had led her
outside, out of paranoia of being overheard by Bii, and they were
standing behind the house on the sidewalk in the bright sunlight.
It looked to be another warm, sunny day, and if Mhumhi had his way,
he'd be outside to enjoy it.

"I never thought about that," she said, at
length. "It's a good idea. But I'd have no idea where to start
looking."

"We start by the entrance, and trace our
steps underground," Mhumhi explained. "If we go roughly in the same
directions, I bet we'll be able to smell it out."

Kutta tilted her head. "Maybe we would."

"You don't seem very interested in it," said
Mhumhi, his tail drooping a bit. "Don't you think it'll help
them?"

"Oh, I do, Mhumhi, it's just…" Kutta
hesitated, rotating her ears, and leaned closer. "I have to tell
you something."

"Don't tell me you've adopted more puppies!
What are they this time, fly maggots? I'll feed them to Bii!"

Kutta laughed, her teeth flashing. "No! No,
it's just something I've been wanting to do. It's sort of the
reason I told you about them."

Mhumhi had a feeling he wasn't going to like
what she was about to say. "Well, what is it?"

"You know the little one is sick," said
Kutta. "And it's bad down there… bad water, bad air, no sunlight… I
know they'll die if they stay down there much longer, Mhumhi, I
know it. They'll get sicker and sicker." She paused to cough
herself, perhaps in sympathy. "I want to move them."

"
Move
them?" Mhumhi gave her a
wide-eyed look. "Move then where? How? Where is there that they can
even go? And why should we risk getting caught, anyway?"

"Because Sacha's right, I think, that
there'll be more dogs down in the sewers soon," said Kutta. "And
anyway, if the police go in there and kill them, they're sure to
smell us, too, and then what will happen? You think they won't go
investigating?"

Mhumhi hadn't thought of that, and put his
ears back.

"If I can figure out a safe place to take
them, I think we can do it," said Kutta. "I just haven't figured
out a safe spot yet. But Mhumhi, you'll like this part-"

"Will I?"

"Yes, because it means we won't have to see
them again. If we can find an adult hulker that'll take them
in."

Mhumhi blinked. "An adult hulker? If we can
find one? How will we get it to take them in, even?"

"Well, I suppose we'd ask it…"

"Ask it!" Mhumhi laughed, incredulous. "Of
course, we'll ask it!"

Kutta shouldered him. "I haven't got any
other ideas. And the meat really is getting too low. I don't know
how much farther we can stretch it out. I don't think we have a
choice."

Mhumhi made a disgruntled sound- there
seemed, to him, to be an easy choice.

"Well, I don't think we'll be moving them
today," he said. "So let's go and see if we can give them more
blankets. And candles. Whatever those are."

Kutta wagged her tail and came over to wash
his ears. "What a strong, smart big brother you are," she cooed,
until he went to nip her and she boxed him back, laughing. They
fell to rolling and mock-biting there in the street for a few
minutes, until Mhumhi was panting and laughing.

"Come on, come on then!" he said, bounding on
his front paws. "Let's search it out, let's go have a race!"

Kutta gave a sharp whistle of agreement, and
Mhumhi pressed his ears back and ran, using his lanky legs to their
full effort. Behind him Kutta scrambled to catch up, her spine
arcing. Together they dashed down the warm streets, leaping over
startled foxes, turning tight corners in clouds of scrabbling paws
and dust. Mhumhi's longer legs gave him greater speed, and he
quickly outstripped his sister, but whenever he paused to wait for
her she would give an extra sprint and leap right over him,
whistling and laughing.

It seemed merely seconds before they reached
the bridge, and Mhumhi skidded to a stop and was bowled over by his
sister. This sparked another fierce bout of mock-fighting until he
whimpered and wagged and licked her, conceding his defeat. She
sprang off of him and he twisted to his feet, panting, smiling
broadly.

"We go that way, then?" He trotted to the top
of the bridge, peering down at the water flowing inwards through
the grate. "Follow the water?"

"I think so," said Kutta, also panting,
rather heavier than he was. She came by the bridge and gave a deep
sniff. "Perhaps we shouldn't have done that right after
eating."

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