They were trying to connect with the ways of the Wild. If they were going to survive in this empty and broken world, they were going to have to learn to understand it the same way that Lucky had learned to understand the city.

It was going to take time, he knew. But as no-sun approached, Lucky felt a flutter of hope.

Maybe they can learn, he thought.

A crash woke him from a deep sleep. As Lucky jerked his head, his whole body tensing and bristling, he felt the spatter of cold raindrops against his fur. Flattening his ears against his skull, he looked up just in time to see a bolt of energy from Lightning’s hindpaws crackle across the blackness of no-sun. The Sky-Dogs snarled again.

Beside him, Bella snapped awake, trembling. The others too were waking up, whining anxiously as rain began battering their bodies. Lucky cringed at the drops, which felt as hard as stones falling from the sky. Within a few seconds his fur was plastered to his skin. Again Lightning leaped, and this time the Sky-Dogs gave an enormous deafening growl directly above them.

Sunshine sprang to her feet, yelping and barking now, and the rest followed. Lucky stood in the center of the panicking Pack, turning on the spot to watch them and beginning to get dizzy as they ran in chaotic circles.

“What’s wrong? Stop! Slow down!”

“A storm, Lucky!” howled Daisy. “We need to hide!”

Lucky barked his reassurance, but they took no notice of him. Even Bruno, usually so stolid, was whimpering as he dashed from tree to tree.

“It’s just a storm!” It was certainly a fierce one, but Lucky knew he had to calm them down. He tried a jovial bark. “You’re Wild Dogs now; you don’t have to be scared of Lightning and the Sky-Dogs’ bickering.”

“But Sunshine’s right,” yelped Martha, pressing her body close to the ground as Lightning’s bolt of power exploded yet again over their heads. “There’s nowhere to shelter! Where do we run to?”

They were panicking. Lucky could understand—their longpaws must have protected them from every storm, coddling them in their baskets and kennels whenever Lightning bounded across the sky, whenever the Sky-Dogs tussled noisily. He’d gotten them through a storm before, but it hadn’t been nearly this bad. The Leashed Dogs simply weren’t used to facing a true storm by themselves.

“Listen to the Sky-Dogs,” wailed Mickey. “They’re furious!”

“They’re only growling at Lightning!” barked Lucky, but his voice was lost in another chorus of thunder from the Sky-Dogs.

Martha cowered, trying to put her huge paws over her ears. “They’ve sent Lightning to burn the earth. They must be angry with us!”

Sunshine was a blur of white fur, dashing here and there, whining and howling her terror. At last, exhausted, she crept between Martha’s legs, shaking violently.

“It’s never going to end,” she whimpered. “First the Big Growl, then those horrible Fight Dogs. And now the Sky-Dogs and Lightning are trying to finish us off! We’ve got the most awful luck! Nothing but trouble!”