Free The Promise: An Elvis Cole and Joe Pike Novel by Robert Crais Page B

not feel the brutal heat or the sand burning her pads or the dust blowing into her eyes or the itchy feel of the cool water Pete scratches into her undercoat. In her dream, she remembers only Pete’s strong scent, the joy of Pete’s attention, and the happiness she shows by wagging her tail. The other Marines are shadows without scent or substance. Only Pete and those memoriesshe associates with Pete are real to her. In her dream, Maggie does not remember Pete has only twelve minutes left to live.
    Maggie does not dream in sequential images as humans dream. Humans are visual. Maggie dreams first of scents, which trigger emotions and images she associates with those scents.
    Pete. The scent of his gear and battle rifle and sweat and soap and the nylon and steel leash that bound them together.
    The green tennis ball hidden in Pete’s pocket. Felt, rubber, adhesive, and ink. The green ball was her favorite toy and her reward when she found the special scents Pete trained her to find. The scent of the green ball was the scent of a promise. Pete’s promise to reward her.
    The game they play. Maggie dreams of their game often. They walk together on a long road, far ahead of the shadow-Marines. Maggie is searching for the special scents Pete trained her to find. If she finds a special scent, she will drop to her belly, stare at the source of the scent, and Pete will reward her. He will pet her, squeak his approval, and throw the green ball. Pete happy. Maggie happy. Pack happy. Maggie loved to chase the green ball. Maggie loved to play their game.
    Her dreamscape unfolds in
bits and pieces, snaps and flashes, sometimes connected, other times
not. She dreams of walking with Pete on the long
road. She dreams of the sweet diesel scent when they
ride in the Hummer. She dreams of petting, strokes, Pete
giving her water, and the two of them sharing chow.
    She dreams of the wild Afghan dogs that attacked her one desert evening and the hot scent of thunder as Pete rushed to her side, pack against pack, the feral dogs screaming as they died. She dreams of the fierce elation she felt at the taste of their blood, and, after, in dominant victory, the warm joy of grooming, Pete checking her for bites and wounds as Maggie licked the gunsmoke from his face, Pete safe, Maggie safe, pack safe.
    As Maggie dreams of this canine combat, her paws twitch, her sleeping eyes roll, and she softly huffs.
    In her dream, as was the case in life, Maggie and Pete sit together when they rest, sleep beside each other in the cold desert night, and eat apart from the others. Maggie grows wary when others approach, not for herself but for Pete. Pete is hers. Her instinct is to protect him. Maggie and Pete are pack. The others are not.
    Her dreamscape turns again.
    Maggie and Pete are playing their game when the stink of goats and men smelling of coriander slams into her. Her paws twitch and flicker. Her scent memory screams a warning, but she cannot escape the terrible scents crashing into her like runaway train cars, the goats, the coriander, the first whiff of the special scent, a scent that promised a reward.
    Snap snap snap—her dream memories unfold.
    Maggie sources the scent to one of the men.
    She alerts, and Pete is beside her.
    Pete’s fear envelops her as he moves to the man and in the same moment Maggie’s world explodes.
    Her kaleidoscope nightmare turns faster.
    Pete is torn and dying before her.
    Maggie whines in her sleep at the bitter scent of his death.
    She drags herself to him, compelled by instincts bred into her and her kind for a hundred thousand generations. Guard. Soothe. Heal. Protect.
    A hard blow kicks her into the air, rolling her end over end. She snaps at white-hot pain in her hips, rights herself, and returns to him. She stands over him now, guarding him.
    A second devastating blow throws her into the air, screaming, spinning, so high into the bright blue desert air—
    Maggie’s nightmare shape-shifts to a warehouse near the Los