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“Are you okay looking after Michael?” Rhiannon asked, reading his mind.
Dottie nodded. “Go on and do what you need to do. He’ll be fine with me. Raszta’s been doing most of the work anyway,” she added with a warm smile.
Raszta.
Pierce scanned for his dog but didn’t see him.“Where is he?”
After Rhiannon translated, Dottie frowned and glanced around. “Oh. Uh, I don’t know. He was just right here a moment ago.”
Pierce put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.
No response.
His chest tightened. Raszta had never failed to respond before. He pushed away from the counter.“I’m going to find him.”
He had to.
Rhiannon reached out and lightly touched his arm. “I’m coming with you.”
Pierce hesitated, then nodded. He turned toward the maze-like debris at the back of the store—the only place Raszta could have gone—and steeled himself for what they might find.“Ask Dottie what’s back there.”
Rhiannon relayed his question.
Dottie’s brows creased in thought, her eyes fixated on the wreckage. “There’s a small office and the employee break room and restroom. But, mostly, it’s storage. It’s all carved into the side of the cliff, so there aren’t any windows back there or anything like that.”
“Doors?”
“Just a back door leading to the loading dock and a smaller parking lot. It’s where we receive shipments and where employees park. It’s kind of off to the side of the main parking lot and hidden behind some trees.”
He started for the jumbled mess of supplies and wreckage. Rhiannon was at his heel.
He stopped her.“You should stay here.”
“No.”
“Rhia—”
Her green-gold eyes met his as she cut him off, signing,“You need help.”
He wanted to argue, to tell her it was too dangerous. But looking at the determined set of her jaw, he knew she wouldn’t listen.“All right. Just stay close.”
With each step down the hall, he was acutely aware of the danger they were about to face—the debris could shift at any point, trapping them. But if Raszta was in danger—or worse—he needed to know. He needed to help. Raszta was more than just his partner; the dog was his lifeline, an extension of himself. Without him, Pierce felt incomplete.
They moved through the destroyed shelves and crumbling walls, their steps measured and cautious. The air was thick with dust, particles floating in the faint light filtering through gaps in the rubble. It was almost eerily silent, save for their hushed breathing and the occasional creaking of the unstable structure around them.
Now and then, Pierce whistled again, straining his ears for any sign of Raszta in the eerie quiet. He kept a hand on Rhiannon’s shoulder, guiding her through the worst of the mess.
A faint sound caught his attention. It was almost lost beneath the murmur of the group from the main room behind them and the groaning of the building’s supports, but…
There it was again.
A weak, muffled cry.
He stilled, listening intently.
“Did you hear that?” Rhiannon’s voice was low, but there was an edge of urgency to it.
He nodded and held up a hand for silence. The group quieted, their collective fear simmering just below the surface. The cry came again, a little louder this time, and definitely human.
