“Can you hear that?” I ask her.

“Hear what?”

“The sound of water. I think there’s some kind of stream at the bottom of this. Maybe a river.”

“I hear it,” Sam chimes in.

An idea pops into my head. I unzip my jacket and remove my shirt. I wipe it across my face, my chest, soaking up every bit of sweat and scent I might have. I throw it at Sam.

“Do what I just did,” I say.

“No way, that’s disgusting.”

“Sam, the entire state of Tennessee is hot on our trail. We don’t have much time.”

He sighs but obeys me. Six does too, unsure of what I have planned but willing to go along with it. I put on a new shirt and slip on my jacket. Six tosses me the soiled shirt and I rub it over Bernie Kosar’s face and body.

“We’re going to need your help, buddy. You up for it?”

I can hardly see him in the dark, but the sound of his tail thumping excitedly on the ground is unmistakable. Always eager to assist, happy to be alive. I can sense within him the odd thrill of being chased, and I can’t help but feel it myself.

“What’s your plan?” Six asks.

“We have to hurry,” I say, taking the first steps downhill towards the running water. Bernie Kosar again turns himself into a bird and we race down, occasionally hearing the bloodhound bark and howl. It’s closing the gap. If my idea fails, I wonder if I might communicate with it and tell it to stop following us.

Bernie Kosar waits for us at the bank of the wide river, which has a still quality to its surface that tells me it’s much deeper than it sounded from the top of the hill.

“We have to swim across,” I say. There’s no other choice.

“What? John, do you understand what happens to the human body when it’s in freezing water? Cardiac arrest from shock, for one. And if that doesn’t kill you, then the loss of feeling in your arms and legs will make it impossible to swim. We’ll freeze and drown,” Sam objects.

“It’s the only way to get the dog from following our scent. At least we’ll have a chance this way.”

“This is suicide. Remember for a second that I’m not an alien.”

I drop to a knee in front of Bernie Kosar. “You have to take this shirt,” I say to him. “Drag it across the ground as fast as you can, for two or three miles. We’ll cross the river so the bloodhound loses our scent and follows this one instead. Then we’ll run some more. You should have no trouble catching up to us if you fly.”

Bernie Kosar transforms into a large bald eagle, takes the shirt into his talons, and speeds off.