Hero Page 8

  “That’s good to hear,” his dad finally said. “I’m proud of you, Ben. You recognized the problem, and you worked out a solution.” Ben instantly felt even worse. Now he was getting praise for something he didn’t do. “You’re still grounded for now, but stop giving the school reasons to call me, and I’ll see what we can do about the puppy.”

  “Thank you, Dad. I’ll get it together, I promise.”

  “Go on, then.” His dad jerked a thumb toward the stairs.

  Ben raced upstairs to his room, on the off chance that either of the dogs might be hiding in there.

  It was empty.

  He peeked in other rooms and in every closet and bathroom. No dogs. He even looked under his parents’ bed, hoping against all reason that they would be snuggled together in the darkness.

  Nothing. No Hero. No Scout.

  Both of his dogs were gone.

  14

  BEN LAY ON HIS BED, EYES wide open. His room was dark. He had turned off the light so his parents would think he had gone to bed, but he was just waiting for them to go to sleep so he could sneak out to find the dogs. An electric current of fear wound its way through his body. His throat felt tight, and he could feel his temples pulsing.

  Ben tried not to think about something horrible happening to Hero or Scout. He would never forgive himself. He needed help figuring out what to do next. He needed Noah, but he had never seen his friend as mad as he was earlier. It hardly seemed likely he’d be interested in speaking to Ben right now, let alone helping him.

  He’d have to do this on his own. After what felt like forever, the house was quiet, and the lights were out in every house on the block. Ben let himself out through the back door. He rode through the dark streets, softly calling for Hero and Scout. He felt like he was shouting in the deep silence.

  Nothing. He rode through his entire neighborhood. He rode through the downtown shopping area, where gates covered the storefronts and parking lots stood empty. He rode along the beach, which was all shadows and creepiness in the middle of the night. Finally, when he thought he was going to have to give up, he rode over to Noah’s house.

  All the windows were dark, and no signs of the party remained. He took a deep breath, hoped his lifelong best friend still felt a shred of kindness for him, and threw a pebble at his second-floor window. The curtain moved and Noah’s face appeared in the window. He looked sleepy. Ben waved up at him. Noah shook his head and disappeared, the curtain falling back into position. Desperation mounting in his chest, Ben threw another rock at the window. Noah’s face reappeared, looking even less happy, if that was possible.

  What? Noah mouthed at him. Ben put his hands together in a please gesture. Noah rolled his eyes and held up his index finger to say one minute.

  Ben waited. A few minutes later, Noah came around the back of his house wearing a sweatshirt over his pajamas. He walked across the lawn to Ben.

  “Are you here to apologize again? That’s why they invented texting, you know,” Noah said, crossing his arms.

  Ben swallowed hard. “You know I’m sorry. And I’ll keep apologizing for, like, a month if you want me to. But that’s not why I’m here.”

  Noah stared at him. When Ben didn’t speak right away, Noah raised his eyebrows and held up his hands impatiently. “Then why are you here?”

  “Hero and Scout. They’re gone.”

  Noah’s expression changed completely, from stubborn indifference to total shock.

  “What do you mean, they’re gone? Gone where?” Noah’s jaw dropped in shock.

  “I don’t know. I left Scout in his crate in the backyard, and Hero was tied up to the tree. I’ve looked for them everywhere—all over town.”

  Noah shook his head, trying to understand. “Your parents didn’t take them somewhere?”

  “No.” Ben looked down at the ground. “I had to tell my dad the dogs were here so he wouldn’t be upset with me for losing them.”

  “Ben, you didn’t lose them. Someone had to have taken them, right?”

  Ben shrugged helplessly. None of this made any sense.

  “Noah, I really need your help finding them.”

  Noah’s face hardened again. “Sure. Now you’re super sorry because you need my help.”

  “I was sorry before!” Ben said a little too loudly. Noah shushed him and looked nervously over his shoulder toward his house. It remained dark and quiet. “I’m not just sorry because I need your help,” Ben went on, quieter this time. “I know I messed up really bad—but right now, I just really need to find the dogs, and I—” Ben could hear himself pleading. “I can’t do it alone.”

  Noah stood silently for a moment, studying his friend.

  “Ben, what’s going on? You’re acting kind of weird lately.”

  Ben exhaled slowly.

  “I’m screwing up everywhere,” he finally confessed.

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means I’m messing up at school, with my parents, at work, with the dogs. With you. It’s like I just can’t handle everything. My grades are seriously in trouble.”

  “For real?”

  “Yeah. For real. Like, the school called my parents for real. My dad grounded me tonight. And whether Hero likes it or not, my parents won’t let me keep Scout if I don’t get it together.” Ben kicked the grass in frustration. “Scout is all alone and so young. And someone hurt him on purpose—who could do that? Can you imagine how scared Scout must have been? And Hero would be so upset if something happened to Scout. Hero is my family. He’s—I mean—he’s Hero. He saved my life once. I can’t just leave them out there somewhere, can I?”

  Noah groaned. “You sure know how to make me feel bad. Let me get my bike.” He disappeared up the driveway and came back a moment later. They hopped on their bikes and rode off. “What’s the plan?”

  “Um, I thought we’d try the animal shelter? Just to make sure they didn’t end up there somehow.”

  “Good idea.”

  “It’s the part after that I’m not so sure about.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Noah said simply. “But I’m still really mad at you.”

  Ben was filled with gratitude for Noah. They biked down the empty streets toward the shelter, riding side by side through the darkness.

  15

  BEN POUNDED ON THE DOOR OF the animal shelter. It swung open, and bright fluorescent light spilled out onto the street. A man in medical scrubs stood in the doorway, his hair sticking up in multiple directions. He rubbed a hand over his eyes. He looked like they’d just woken him up. Ben blinked and explained why they were there.

  “Come on in,” the man said, waving a hand in the air.

  Ben and Noah followed him down a long hallway, toward the sound of an animal symphony. They stepped into a vast room lined with rows of cages. The shelter worker handed Ben a beat-up notebook and asked him to sign in. Then he pointed to the right side of the room.

  “Dogs are on that side,” he said. “Hope you find the one you’re looking for. I’ll be at my desk if you need me.” He headed off to the left.

  Ben and Noah headed down the first aisle. A beagle mix stared at them longingly with big, droopy eyes. A white terrier with one brown spot on her back jumped up on her hind legs and pawed at the cage. Her entire bottom half wagged along with her tail. A rangy mutt with a gray muzzle tilted her head as they passed and let out a howl. Ben couldn’t believe there were so many dogs. Every one of them looked sweeter than the last. Had all of them had a home once? Did someone stop loving them, or did they have to give them up? It was awful.

  Ben and Noah saw dogs of every shape and size. There was the tiniest scrap of a dog—smaller than a Chihuahua, even, with a crazy underbite and fur spiking up from the top of its head. There was a creature that looked like a pair of eyes inside a huge ball of fur. And then there was the one that made Noah stop in his tracks and put his hand over his mouth. For a split second, Ben got excited—had he found Hero or Scout?

  “Look at
this dog,” Noah said through his fingers.

  Ben looked. It was a boxy gray-and-white puppy with giant, floppy ears twice as big as his head. He looked like a baby, with a super-soft coat and a pink muzzle. He had the biggest eyes Ben had ever seen . . . and they were looking straight at Noah. The little dog wagged his tiny tail and skittered around his cage. He turned in circles and hopped up and down a couple of times.

  “Who could abandon him?” Noah asked sadly. “Why doesn’t anyone want all these dogs?”

  Ben knew how his friend felt. He wished he could rescue every single one of them, but right then, he was focused on finding his own two dogs. Were they in danger? Were they locked up and scared, like these animals? He left Noah at the end of the row and turned the corner to the next aisle. He ran up and down the room, looking in every cage. His heart broke a little more at the sight of each dog, but he forced himself to move quickly. Finally, he got to the last cage.

  Hero and Scout weren’t there.

  Desperate, Ben ran over to the shelter worker. The man looked up at him with a sympathetic expression. He probably saw people as panicked as Ben every day.

  “Not here, kid?”

  Ben shook his head and fought back tears.

  “Sorry. If you want to leave me a description of your dog and your phone number, I can call you if he shows up.”

  “Two dogs,” Ben said. “And I have a picture of them. Maybe you can tell me if you’ve seen them?” He pulled out his phone and swiped to a shot he’d taken of Scout sitting near Hero. Both dogs looked right into the camera.

  The man studied the photo for a second. “I’ve seen the little guy, actually,” he said.

  “Really? When?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  That was before Ben and Hero found Scout in the woods.

  “The dog wasn’t here,” the shelter worker went on, “but a guy came in looking for him. He left a picture.” He dug through the piles of paper on his desk and pulled out a photo. He handed it to Ben.

  The dog in the picture was Scout. He was looking sadly through the bars of a dog crate.

  Ben was confused. His dad said no one had been looking for the puppy.

  “Did he say it was his dog?” Ben asked.

  “Actually, I was off that day. But one of the other guys that works here told me about it ’cause it was kind of weird.”

  “Weird how?”

  “Well, most people, if they’re looking for their dog, they’re real upset and want you to call them right away if any animal even looking like theirs comes in. But not this guy. I guess he didn’t want to leave his number.”

  “Do you know what he looked like?”

  “Sorry.” The worker shook his head. “Like I said, I wasn’t here.” The guy’s eyes lit up. “But his name would be on the sign-in sheet.” He flipped back a few pages in the notebook and pointed to the right-hand column. “It was right around then.”

  Ben scanned the page. None of the names jumped out at him—until he got to the bottom of the column. There, in loopy, uneven handwriting, was a name he knew all too well: Jack Murphy.

  “Thank you,” Ben said, managing a weak smile. Anger flared up in his chest. His head was spinning. Why would Jack come looking for Scout? None of this made any sense.

  Something wasn’t right—he could feel it. And he knew what he had to do next.

  16

  BEN AND NOAH RODE HOME IN silence. The only sound was their bike wheels on the asphalt.

  “It’s a bummer that we didn’t find them there,” Noah said. “But we’ll look more tomorrow.”

  Ben’s mind was running in a thousand different directions at once, but he kept coming back to one thought. Something that had been nagging at him, even though he couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly: Jack. Was he part of the dogfighting ring? It was the only explanation for all of this.

  “This is going to sound crazy,” he said.

  “Um, crazier than the fact that we were just at the animal shelter at two A.M.?”

  “I guess not.” Ben paused. “I think Jack took my dogs.”

  “Whoa. You were right. That sounds crazy. Why would he do that?”

  “His name was on that sign-in sheet at the shelter,” Ben said.

  “What?” Noah blurted out. “But that doesn’t make sense—do you think he was looking for Scout before Scout was even . . . Scout? I mean, before you even found him?”

  “I told you it sounded insane. But what if Jack is part of the dogfighting ring?”

  “Ben, that’s a serious accusation. And he’s just a kid, like us.”

  “It’s a crazy theory, I know,” Ben said. “But he heard you remind me about your mom’s party the other day, so he knew I wouldn’t be home. Then I saw him outside my house last night, right before Hero and Scout disappeared, when I was heading to your house.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “And he’s sort of weird about Hero. It’s like Jack wants him or something.”

  “Except for the part where Hero almost ate him at tryouts.”

  Even then, Ben thought, it was like Jack had wanted to upset Hero. He had to have known that if he threw the ball at Ben, Hero would get upset. Was he trying to get Hero riled up?

  “Remember when Jack asked me if I would bet Hero?”

  “Yeah, that was bizarre,” Noah conceded. “So let’s go talk to him. Tomorrow. Or later today, whatever it is.”

  The next day was Saturday, but Ben was up early. He could barely sleep. He was ready to go to Jack’s before the sun came up, but he didn’t want to go alone—and he didn’t want to wake up Noah since he’d kept him out most of the night. He waited impatiently for his phone to ring. When Noah finally called around eleven and yawned into the phone that he was ready to go, Ben was on his bike within minutes.

  Ben and Noah sat, bleary-eyed, on the curb across the street from Jack’s house. They had rung the bell, but no one was home. They weren’t bothering to hide. Ben planned to confront Jack right there on the sidewalk, in front of his mom or anyone who happened to pass by. It had been hours since his dogs had gone missing, and he was starting to feel desperate—and scared.

  An hour passed. Ben was worried about getting home on time. He was still grounded, but he’d told his parents he and Noah were going to do homework together. Ben was about to tell Noah to forget it when Jack rounded the corner on his bike. He was carrying something under one arm.

  Ben waited until Jack pulled to a stop in front of his house. Jack hopped off his bike, and Ben could see what he’d been holding: a bag of dog food.

  Ben was flooded with adrenaline. There was his proof. Jack was behind this.

  “You’d better go home,” he whispered to Noah through gritted teeth.

  “What are you talking about?” he whispered back. “We’ve been waiting forever. I’m not lea—”

  Ben didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. He was already crossing the street. He could feel his blood rising. Rage was building in his chest, and his ears pounded.

  “Hey!” Ben yelled out.

  Jack spun around. His eyes narrowed when he saw Ben.

  “What do you want?” Jack asked. He started to walk toward his house.

  “I want my dogs!” Ben couldn’t hide his anger.

  Jack looked at Ben like he was nuts.

  “Your dogs? What are you talking about? Why would I have your dogs?”

  Ben froze. His head was spinning. Jack actually looked like he was telling the truth.

  “Then what were you doing at my house last night? Why did you go to the animal shelter a couple of weeks ago?”

  “I didn’t know it was your house, honestly.” Jack wasn’t acting like his usual smug self. “I don’t know my way around town yet, and I was just trying to get home.” Jack shrugged. “Then all of a sudden you came flying down your driveway. I thought you’d think it was weird that I was there, so I got out of there fast.”

  Ben didn’t know what to believe. Jack sounded so sincere. B
ut the dog food . . .

  “What’s that for, then?” Ben pointed at the bag under Jack’s arm.

  “It’s food,” Jack spat, as if Ben had asked the stupidest question on earth. “For my dog.”

  “You—wait—” Ben stammered. “You have a dog?”

  Jack turned and headed for his front door. He swung it open. Out limped an old, tired golden retriever. The fur around her muzzle was totally gray, and she moved slowly, like she was in pain. She whimpered a little and stuck her nose in Jack’s palm. Her tail wagged slowly.

  “This is my dog, Holly. She’s really sick. I just went to get her prescription and some more food. And I went to the shelter a while back to donate some of her toys and stuff. She can’t really play with anything anymore.”

  Ben’s cheeks burned. He felt terrible, but he didn’t know if he was more embarrassed, guilty, or panicked. If Jack didn’t have his dogs, then who did?

  Ben looked down at the ground.

  “I’m sorry,” Ben said. “Jack, I didn’t know.” He looked up at Jack, who stared off into the distance, one hand resting on Holly’s head. “Man, you’ve been having a rough time lately, huh? Your parents, your dog . . .”

  Jack didn’t look at him. “I’m fine.”

  “Ben,” Noah said from the sidewalk. “Let’s go.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ben repeated. He felt weird just leaving Jack there. “After I find Hero and Scout, I’ll come back. Okay? But I gotta go. I’ll . . . uh . . . I’ll see you later.”

  Ben hopped on his bike and rode off, leaving Jack and his sweet old dog standing together on their front lawn.

  17

  BEN TOSSED AND TURNED ALL NIGHT. His sheets felt scratchy and hot. His pillow was lumpy. Every time he fell asleep, he woke up with a start, afraid that he had forgotten something. But he hadn’t forgotten something—he had lost something. Two things. There was just a cold spot on the floor by his bed, where Hero used to sleep. And downstairs, an empty crate was a reminder that Scout was missing.