Goals.
As soon as he cleared the concrete edge, Dakota popped to his feet and took off, leaping rock to rock on the path that he’d mind-mapped, only letting Tank have but so much freedom. Man, he wished he could cut Tank loose and meet him at the finish line.
Tank would have a much better time letting his full athleticism shine.
From Tank’s point of view, this experience must be like the time Dakota ran the Thanksgiving Turkey Trot with his then-six-year-old nephew, Bo. Now, Bo did a great job, and it was a good bonding time, but Dakota spent most of the time jogging in place.
Dakota leaped just as Tank got his paws onto solid ground. The drag intensified, and for a moment, it felt like Dakota was airborne, a kite lifted by the wind. His foot hit the slope and slid right out from under him. Dakota stretched out his hands to catch his weight, and his hands slid out to either side.
Tensing his shoulder muscles to keep his hands in place, he called out. “Hold. Hold.” The clay-covered hill, slick with water and churned by the first heat, proved difficult. Every time Dakota placed a foot or hand and pressed his weight into it, that limb slid out from under him. Dakota looked up the hill to find Tank staring down at him.
Dakota searched the hillside and saw that he might be able to find friction on the dappled vegetation and, with Tank’s help, climb the slope like a rock wall. He gripped a tuft of grass with his fingers and found another clump of weeds for his toes. Lifting his voice, Dakota called, “Hey, buddy, go out. Go. Go.”
This was either going to work, or Dakota was going to be slicked from head to foot in red clay. The benefit was that he’d be unrecognizable. Cerberus boys would be the only ones who knew about this sad performance, he thought with a chuckle.
Besides, the Labradors were at his heels. And if Rourou the Labrador puppy passed them, Dakota wasn’t sure Tank would forgive him.
Dakota balanced his toes on a tiny tuft of weeds to get a modicum of traction and dragged at the few blades of grass. That, coupled with Tank’s mighty pull, and Dakota got to the top, where the accomplishment was met with cheers and lots of cell phones pointed in his direction.
Raising a hand in appreciation of their clapping and encouraging calls, both Dakota and Tank rode the energy from the crowd. Dakota always ran his best times when there was excitement in the air—or danger.
Yeah, danger could get his feet moving pretty fast, too.
Tank and Dakota sprinted down the trail.
Tank was out in front of him like a husky dragging a sled across the Tundra.
Reaper had been right; Dakota was running at breakneck speed. And it felt wild in his body. He was moving at a frightening pace that demanded surrender and hyperfocus at once.
The harness seemed to wrestle gravity into submission as they flew down the hill and back up the next.
When he ran in triathlons, Dakota had a tempo that ensured he kept a steady power surge throughout the race, and he couldjet across the finish line strong. He’d trained it into his body, so he had a good sense of what was required.
Did he have clue one now?
Not at all.
All he knew was that he was trying to give himself a bit of grace for doing this crazy event with zilch experience and, at the same time, have some fun while doing a good deed. That didn’t mean that Dakota could shed his competitive nature. He hadn’t seen another team for a while now. And Dakota was determined to catch up.
Out in front, Dakota could hear the Cerberus operators yelling their commands and saw sprays of water.
“Buddy—” Dakota tried, but it came out as a wheeze. Yeah, there was no way he was going to be able to call out commands and run full out like this. No way that he could warn Tank and talk him through this. But he reasoned that Tank had a miracle sniffer and keen hearing; he knew.
He knew, and yet he didn’t let up.
Tank raced toward the deck without a break in his stride.
Maybe Halo worked through the water issues.
This looked like it was going to be fine.
Tank leaped into the air, stretching his front paws long.
He was glorious as he sailed through the air.
The bungee stretched out, dragging Dakota’s hips forward, so he had no time to set up for a dive. All he could do was lift his feet and let Tank drag him forward.
But the drag stopped mid-jump, and Dakota had barely pushed off with his back leg.
