Max, page 15
“It’s okay, Max,” Justin called down to him. “You’re okay, pal.” Before Justin could figure out what to do, he heard a sound behind him and spun around, his heart pounding in his chest.
Tyler was coming straight for him.
TWENTY-THREE
JUSTIN TOOK OFF, TYLER FAST ON HIS HEELS. JUSTIN headed straight into the woods, hoping the trees would provide some cover. As he ran, he searched desperately for an escape route. Suddenly, he spotted the old, crumbling railroad bridge, jutting out from the hillside off to his right and crossing the river.
It was his best shot.
Justin sprinted toward the bridge, which got bigger as he got closer, until finally it loomed over him. He stopped to catch his breath and studied the ancient-looking structure—or what was left of it anyway. It had clearly been out of use for a long time. There were entire sections missing, either rotted away or broken by years of use, then abandonment. It was suspended probably fifty feet above the ground, and stretched at least a hundred feet across. The river flowed beneath it.
Tyler’s footsteps crashed through the bushes behind him. He was closing in.
Justin had no choice. He put one foot onto the first plank of wood, and the whole bridge dipped and swayed. He swallowed hard, then took another shaky step. The wood beneath him shuddered. He gripped the splintering railing and looked down. Bad idea, he quickly realized. Better not to see how far there was to fall.
Where was Max? Justin hoped he’d gotten down from the ledge, but he didn’t see him anywhere below or in the woods around him.
Justin took another shaky step, his eyes locked firmly on the long, treacherous path before him. He had to avoid the holes and pieces of board that were clearly not strong enough to support him.
Suddenly, the entire bridge lurched and wobbled. Justin looked over his shoulder and saw Tyler racing toward him, clutching a handgun. Tyler didn’t seem to care that the bridge was about to fall apart. He had a fierce and frightening look in his eyes. It was pretty clear Tyler cared about only one thing: getting his hands on Justin.
“There’s no way out of this, Justin,” Tyler shouted after him. “You may as well give up now.”
“No way,” Justin yelled back, without turning around. He tried to pick up the pace, but was worried the whole bridge was about to collapse under their weight.
Justin heard a sputtering engine in the distance, quickly growing louder. He looked down through the bridge to see Tyler’s truck driving through the ravine below them, still spewing smoke.
“My backup is here, kid,” Tyler called. “You’re on your own out here.”
Before Justin had a chance to respond to Tyler’s taunts, he saw a figure dart out in front of the vehicle. The man waved his arms at the car. Justin gasped: It was his dad, who pointed a gun straight at the windshield and fired.
The truck swerved and crashed into the side of the hill. The back of the truck exploded in a burst of flame, and suddenly a thousand gunshots pinged around the ravine. The ammunition in Tyler’s truck had ignited.
Tyler and Justin both dropped to their stomachs, covering their heads with their arms and lying flat against the boards. Bullets thwacked into the bridge all around them.
After the explosion, everything went silent. His eardrums hummed. Justin peered down through a wide hole in the bridge. His heart nearly burst with relief and happiness when he saw his dad crouched behind a huge rock. He was okay. Justin just hoped that Max wasn’t anywhere near the blast.
When the smoke started to settle, Tyler scrambled to his feet and continued his advance on Justin.
“You can’t get away from me, you little—” Tyler slipped on a shard of wood, which snapped off and fell to the ground, landing with a distant crunch. He got up, wobbling and tipping as the bridge moved, but he kept coming.
“The cops are on their way,” Justin yelled. “You’re never going to get away with this!”
“Cops? How are they going to find you out in the middle of nowhere?” Tyler replied, moving a few steps closer to Justin. “Besides, I don’t think the sheriff is going to care very much,” he finished with a nasty laugh.
Suddenly, a second loud explosion rocked the canyon and sent a spray of fire and light shooting into the air. A hot blast of air knocked Justin off his feet. The fire had made its way around to the back of Tyler’s truck, setting off the rocket launchers in the cargo hold. Justin and Tyler ducked for cover, putting their hands over their heads.
Tyler got up again and lurched forward, waving his gun in the air.
“I’ll kill you before I let you get out of here,” Tyler snarled.
Justin forced himself to his feet, ready to run. He took a step, then stopped short: The rocket launcher had blown a gaping hole in the bridge, right in front of him. He swung his arms in the air, desperate for balance, catching himself just before he tipped forward and fell the fifty feet to the ground.
He spun around to face Tyler, who was closing in on him.
There was nowhere for Justin to go.
Justin froze, considering his options. He could stay where he was and hope Tyler fell through the crumbling bridge before he reached him. Or he could face Tyler like Kyle would have—like a hero.
Justin spun around just as Tyler was closing in on him. He could see the sweat pouring off Tyler’s face, a look of pure hatred in his bloodshot eyes. He leveled the gun at Justin.
Justin’s vision narrowed to the pinpoint of the gun barrel, which was aimed right at his chest. His body vibrated with fear, but he couldn’t let that stop him. He reached down and snatched up a large, splintery plank of wood and held it up like a bat. He would go down fighting.
“Tyler!” Justin’s dad called out from below. “Don’t you dare hurt my boy!”
Tyler ignored him and pressed forward until he stood just inches from Justin. He leaned in, his breath hot on Justin’s face.
“It didn’t have to end like this, kid,” Tyler said, his voice cold. “But Kyle always said you were gonna surprise everyone one day.” Justin’s heart pounded in his chest. “I just don’t think this is what he had in mind,” Tyler finished quietly, his eyes digging into Justin’s.
They stared at each other. Out of the corner of his eye, Justin saw a flash of movement behind Tyler. Relief flooded him. It was Max—he had somehow gotten down off the side of the cliff and found Justin. Now he was in full aggressive war dog mode, heading straight for Tyler’s back.
“What do you think Kyle would say about this situation?” Tyler asked, glowering at Justin.
Justin smiled at Tyler. Tyler shot him a confused look.
“I think he’d say,” Justin began, “Max, attack!”
Tyler’s eyes went big and round as he registered what was happening. He spun around and tried to steady his gun, but he was too late to help himself. Justin kicked out Tyler’s leg and Tyler fell to his knees, firing a shot into the air. With a giant roar, Max leaped onto Tyler’s chest and locked his mighty jaw around Tyler’s shoulder. Justin sprang out of the way as Tyler went flying backward, but Max didn’t let go. Instead, Max just clamped down harder on Tyler’s arm, pressing himself against Tyler’s body as together they fell through the giant hole in the bridge. The two plunged downward, spiraling as they fell. Max didn’t let go of Tyler, loyal until the very end.
“Max!” Justin screamed. He dropped to his stomach and looked down through the hole. Sirens screamed in the distance, getting louder and closer as Justin tried to absorb what he saw.
Tyler lay across a giant rock at a painfully awkward angle, his body bent and twisted. On top of him lay Max. Justin’s dog wasn’t moving.
TWENTY-FOUR
JUSTIN LIKED IT HERE IN THE CEMETERY. IT WAS QUIET and peaceful, and he felt as if it was the first time he’d been able to think straight in weeks. He tugged at a few loose blades of dry grass, then tossed them aside.
The afternoon sun warmed his face, but the heat wasn’t so oppressive anymore. Summer was winding down, and he could feel the first hint of fall in the air. That meant school would be starting soon. For the first time ever, that didn’t sound so awful to him. After all, Carmen was transferring to his school.
Justin’s hand absentmindedly found Max’s head and scratched between his ears. Max nuzzled Justin’s fingers and let out a little mwaaamp noise—that cross between a yawn, a snort, and a whimper. It was the dog sound for contentment and affection that Justin loved to hear. Max dropped his head onto his front paws and thumped his tail into the grass a few times.
Justin patted Max’s side, careful to avoid the stitches and bandages that would be there for another week or two at least. Max was pretty banged up, but he’d come out remarkably well, considering the battle he’d had with the devil dog and the fifty-foot drop he’d survived.
Justin ran his hand through Max’s soft fur and stared at his brother’s gravestone.
“Hey, Kyle,” he began, faltering at first. He’d never sat in a cemetery before, let alone talked to one of its residents. He paused, then decided he had nothing to lose—and plenty to say.
“People always said you were a great Marine,” Justin started again. “And you were. I’ll never be like you, and maybe I figured out that I don’t want to be. And that’s okay.” Justin paused. A plane flew overhead, and a gas lawn mower chugged along somewhere in the distance. Max rolled onto his side and stretched out next to Justin, his ears twitching as a slight breeze picked up and new sounds floated in their direction.
“I know we didn’t always get along too well,” Justin said softly to his brother’s headstone, “and I was really mad when you left for the Marines. But I guess lots of brothers are like that sometimes. I’m just sorry we’ll never get the chance to grow up together and be friends.” Justin’s throat felt tight, and hot tears pooled up in his eyes.
“I just want to thank you for Max. And tell you I love you. As long as I live, Kyle, I’ll never forget you.”
An image flashed through Justin’s mind: It was Kyle’s face the day he told Justin and their parents that he was going to work with a military dog. Justin had long forgotten about that conversation, but he replayed it now as if it had happened yesterday. Kyle was so excited talking about the incredible dogs that fought alongside soldiers all over the world—he was practically beaming, and he said he couldn’t wait to meet his new partner. “The dogs are like family to their handlers,” Kyle had said.
Justin got to his feet. Max hopped up with him. They stood together, side by side, looking at Kyle’s grave. Justin read his brother’s name for the hundredth time, and the words MARINE, SON, BROTHER, HERO.
Justin raised his hand to his brow, offering his brother a quick salute, just like Kyle had taught him to do. Then he turned and hopped on his bike. Justin rode off for home, Max trotting along at his side.
TWENTY-FIVE
JUSTIN LEANED HIS BIKE AGAINST THE SIDE OF THE house and headed into the backyard. He stopped short when he saw what was there—or, more accurately, what wasn’t there. Max’s cage was gone.
Justin grinned and opened the back door. He stepped into the kitchen and breathed in the scent of his mother’s pot roast. It was the best smell on earth. Max sauntered in behind him and let out a happy yap. His tail wagged so hard he whacked Justin’s mom with it a couple of times. She chuckled and gave Max a scratch on the back of the neck. Max wiggled over to Carmen and Chuy, who both dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around him.
Max sniffed at the air. His tail wagged even harder.
“Yeah, Max,” Carmen said, letting him lick her nose, “we’ve got some carnitas cooking for you tonight.”
Pamela closed the stove and tossed an oven mitt onto the counter. She took two big steps over to Justin and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him in a hug so tight it forced the breath out of him.
“Mom,” he managed to squeak out, “are you going to do this every time I come home now?”
His mom didn’t release her grip.
“Yup,” she said. “Every time you’re an hour late coming home from a walk, you bet your behind I will.” She let him go, and he took a couple of quick breaths. “Where on earth have you been anyway?”
“Out cleaning up Gotham,” Chuy said from across the room. “Taking out villains, right, buddy?”
“Well,” Carmen said with a silly grin, “you know he needs to be a superhero if he’s going to be my boyfriend.”
Justin laughed, blushing a little at the word that was still so new to him. But there was no denying it—he liked the word, especially when Carmen was saying it.
But there was still something Justin needed to get off his chest. His expression turned serious. He turned to Chuy. He hadn’t been sure how to phrase what he needed to tell his friend, but he was starting to figure out that it was more important to say something than to say it perfectly.
“Chuy, man, I’m glad you’re here,” Justin began. “And I’m really sorry—I know your family must be upset about Emilio going to—”
Chuy cut him off. “Emilio belongs in jail, man. You did the right thing, and we all know that. That dude was bad news for my family, too.”
Justin was so relieved to hear that Chuy felt that way. He and Chuy shook hands.
Justin’s dad appeared in the doorway from the living room, still in his work uniform. Max ran over to him and sniffed at his legs. Ray patted Max lightly on the top of the head.
“Well, hello, everyone,” he said with a wave.
“Hey, Mr. Wincott,” Chuy and Carmen said at once.
“Hi, honey,” Justin’s mom said.
“Hey, Dad,” Justin said. “Where’s Max’s cage?”
His dad shrugged and said, “At the junkyard, on top of the pile. Where it belongs. He’ll be staying in the house with us from now on. Where he belongs.”
Justin and his dad held each other’s gaze, both of them unsure where to go from here. They’d been through a lot together this summer, and now they were in new territory.
“What do you say to your father?” Justin’s mom asked.
“It’s about time,” Justin said with a straight face. There was a beat of awkward silence, then everyone burst out laughing.
“That’s cold!” Chuy said, pretend-punching Justin on the shoulder. Max immediately began barking and raced over to Justin’s side. He positioned himself between Chuy and Justin, his ears back.
“It’s okay, Max!” Justin laughed. “He’s our friend. Take it easy.” Max sniffed at Chuy and wagged his tail again. Chuy let out an exaggerated sigh of relief.
Everyone started chatting again—Pamela, Chuy, and Carmen picked up their conversation about the merits of various dog breeds, while Pamela stirred a giant pot on the stovetop.
Justin watched his friend, his girlfriend, and his mom together and felt an ache in his chest he’d never felt before. It was a new, funny combination of happiness, contentment, love, gratitude—and a big, healthy dose of sadness that his brother wasn’t here to share all this with him and their parents.
Justin felt his father’s eyes on him. He looked up to where he still stood in the doorway. Justin wondered if his dad was thinking the same things he was. They exchanged a long look, and Justin gave his dad a half smile. Ray didn’t quite smile back, but he nodded at Justin, and Justin saw something in his dad’s expression that he’d never seen there before: respect.
Max gently pressed his nose into Justin’s palm. Justin looked down at him.
“You hungry, buddy?” he asked, squatting down so he and Max were eye to eye. Max pressed his snout against Justin’s cheek and snuffled in his ear.
Justin stroked Max’s head.
“That’s my boy, Max,” he said. “That’s my boy.”
NOTE
Dogs have been used in the U.S. military since World War I.
More than 3,000 dogs have served in Iraq and Afghanistan since 1993.
More than 60 dogs and 40 of their handlers have been killed in the service of their country in those wars.
This story is dedicated to their memory.
CREDITS
Motion Picture Artwork © 2015 Warner Bros. Ent. and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Pictures Inc. All Rights Reserved Cover design by Rick Farley
COPYRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
MAX: BEST FRIEND. HERO. MARINE. Copyright © 2015 by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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