EPILOGUE
One year later
Rav slapped the top of the Mad Creek Sheriff's Department SUV and looked in the open window. Roman was in the driver seat and Matt was riding shotgun. They both had on their best uniforms—Roman's from the sheriff's department and Matt's from the forest service—and the vehicle was washed and polished.
"We're all ready in the back. Go ahead and start," Rav said.
Roman looked nervous. "Five miles an hour, right?"
Matt smiled at Rav and winked.
"Yup," Rav agreed amiably. "Just keep an eye on your rearview mirror. If we start receding into infinite space, stop for a moment."
"You've got this." Matt used a fake action-movie voice, gripping the back of Roman's neck. "It's dangerous, and we may not come back, but you can do it, Deputy Charsguard."
Roman smiled a big sloppy grin. "Matt."
Rav laughed. "See you at the end."
He walked back to his place in line as Roman slowly moved the SUV forward.
The first ever Mad Creek Adopt-A-Dog-Athon parade was starting. Rav felt pretty chill about it, because he knew Minnie and Leesa and Lily had organized this thing to within an inch of its furry life. There Lily was, still spacing groups out, literally just taking arms and moving people around. Her intense focus clashed with her cutesy outfit—black bodysuit, neon-red running shoes, red dog collar, long black ears on a headband, and a fake black dog nose.
Rav smiled. Note to self: herding dogs make fucking fantastic parade organizers.
He passed Lance and Tim and Molly. They were right behind the Mad Creek Sheriff's Department banner. Molly looked adorable, sporting black-and-white Dalmatian ears and a pink tutu. Tim was dressed as a werewolf with a Lon Chaney-esque mask, gray outfit, pinned-on tail, and wolf-paw gloves. Lance was polished and starched in his sheriff's department uniform.
"Hi, Rav!" Tim waved a furry paw as Rav walked by. "Exciting, huh?"
"You know it."
"Err," Lance said, though he didn't really seem annoyed. He looked more concerned about primping—brushing dog hairs off his uniform and running fingers through his hair.
As Rav walked on to his place in line, he got a dozen greetings. He'd gotten to know many of the quickened by name in the past year. The distribution center had been approved in November. When Dan and his staff came to town as part of the bidding process, Mad Creek had done a fantastic job of entertaining them. Everyone had been ridiculously charming. And, like everything the retail giant did, once the papers were signed, construction moved fast. They'd opened the facility in April. Hard to believe it had only been six months.
Rav had never worked so many long hours in his life, or been at the vortex of so much barely controlled chaos. For a while there, it was sheer pandemonium with all the inventory flooding in while trying to get the workers up to speed. But the quickened did learn, the middle management positions were filled, and the distribution center was now fully functional. Since the drone technology wasn't ready yet, they were shipping out packages three times a day on big UPS planes. But it worked, and they were in position for the future. Things looked very bright.
Rav had a moment last week when he'd stood on a platform outside his office, looking out over the acres of warehouse floor, the forklifts, the people with carts and clipboards, the QA staff, and managers. And—bloody hell—it was all running smoothly. In that moment, Rav knew that he'd really accomplished something truly massive in his life. He'd made a difference. Saved a town, maybe. Life didn't get much better than that.
Except when it did. Rav reached his spot behind the Hold My Paw banner. The Hold My Paw section was the largest in the parade. They currently had 151 dogs in the expanded shelter, and each one was in line with their handler for the day. Both dogs and handlers were in costumes. They were hilarious.
Sammy was waiting for him, and he handed Rav Best Boy's leash. Best Boy, wearing a lion’s mane, greeted him with a butt wiggle and a huge grin. Sammy's work with Best Boy had gone so well, Rav felt comfortable having Best Boy around other dogs. He was utterly placid, which Rav had never thought possible for an ex-fighting dog. Sammy himself was pulling an elderly bulldog named Pokey in a little wagon.
Sammy was dressed as a pirate because—well, just because that's what he'd wanted to wear. He had on a black vest over a tight white T-shirt, black-and-tan pantaloons, tall black boots with cuffs, a patch over one eye, and a pirate hat. The wagon he pulled had construction paper waves attached to the sides, and Pokey the bulldog wore a green and pink striped sweater with an orange beak on top of his head. He was supposed to be a parrot.
"Is it time to go yet?" Sammy asked impatiently.
"Yup. Roman's started. We'll be moving in a minute."
"Yay! This is your best idea ever, Rav. Except for picking me as a mate. That was even smarter."
"True."
The pirate outfit was damned sexy, and the line in front of them was moving slow, so Rav had time to pull Sammy in and kiss him soundly. The quickened around them hooted at the free show.
Sammy laughed when they parted. "You! This is a parade, not a porn movie."
"You know entirely too much about porn," Rav said in a low grumble. "I think I've been working too many long hours."
"Me?" Sammy looked innocent. "I don't know anything about it—except what Simon tells me." Sammy looked around and waved. "Hi, Simon!"
"Hi, Sammy!" Simon waved energetically back. He was Sammy’s assistant manager at the shelter now, and he loved to brag to everyone about his salary. The Jack Russell shifter was dressed like a biker—well, like Rav actually. Rav pretended not to notice.
“Hi, Rex!” Sammy greeted the quickened next to Simon. Rex arrived a few weeks ago for a visit. Sammy had told Rav all about meeting Rex in the pound in Flagstaff, and they were both happy to see him alive and well. Rex was dressed like a clown complete with rainbow wig, red nose, and yellow polka-dot costume. The cute little mutt he had in his arms had a matching rainbow collar.
Rex waved back. “Hey, Sammy. Let’s get this show on the road!” He honked a horn he wore around his neck, toot toot, which made a dozen dogs bark. Rex cringed apologetically.
Sammy laughed. “Hey, you’re not supposed to toot your own horn! Ha-ha-ha!” Nobody cracked Sammy up as much as Sammy did himself.
For his own outfit, Rav had taken the easy way out and went with his bad boy biker look. He had to wear suits and ties at the facility, so he didn't get much chance to dress like this anymore. It felt like a costume, though. Before he'd moved to Mad Creek, he'd had such a fuck you attitude toward life. The badass look had been a way to keep people at arm's length. And now…
Now Rav Miller was a goddamn social butterfly. It was nearly as much of a miracle as the quickened.
The fire department group in front of Rav and Sammy began to move.
"It's time!" Sammy said, taking Rav's hand.
"Yup." Rav turned to the group behind them. "Here we go! Everyone ready?"
They all hooted and barked and yipped, and off they went.
Considering it was the town's first Adopt-A-Dog festival, the crowds were pretty good. There were people stretched out along Main Street, all of them strangers. Some of them wore the cheap ears-on-a-headband or Day-Glo dog collars the vendors were selling. A few even had their own costumes. The ladies in the crowd were especially responsive to the Mad Creek Fire Department right in front of Rav and Sammy. The yellow fire truck rolled slowly along while the town's four fire fighters—all of them quickened—walked next to it. Ronnie Beaufort, a total hunk with his thick black hair and blue eyes, flexed his biceps and encouraged the catcalls.
Next year, Rav thought, the fire department goes behind the dogs.
"Next year," Sammy said, "the Mad Creek Search and Rescue will be in the parade too! I can't wait!"
Rav huffed. "We'll see, Sammy. It might take a little longer to get that going."
"Next year," Sammy said with utter conviction. "Oh, look, Rav!"
Sammy pointed to a young girl and guy dressed as Lady and the Tramp. They had a long piece of taffy stretched between their mouths to represent the spaghetti. They clapped as the parade went by and wagged their furry paws.
"They're so cute." Sammy waved back. " Hi! You've got something in your teeth! Ha. Just kidding!"
Someone in a full Snoopy costume, complete with a huge head, danced by on their toes along the sideline.
Rav had to laugh. Fucking A, this cosplay thing was so totally going to work.
The parade ended at the far end of Main Street, where 83 came down the hill. Lily's tightly organized rows dissolved into a happy, celebratory mishmash in the parking lot of a craft store. The town's first parade had gone off without a hitch. There was a lot to celebrate.
But Rav's team had somewhere to be. He whistled to get everyone's attention. "All those with dogs make your way to the park. Watch for traffic!"
"Got it!" Simon called back. He was Sammy's assistant manager at the shelter now. He started leading the way with a sweet German shepherd named Hilde on leash.
Rav turned to find Sammy looking at him with a suppressed smile. "Aye aye, captain." Sammy saluted him. He choked back laughter, finding it hilarious.
"Well, come on then, matey," Rav said in his best pirate voice. "We must na get these prisoners to the galley. What say ye, prisoner?"
Rav leaned over Pokey. He obediently licked Rav's chin.
"That's what I thought ye'd say. Shall we go then, Seadog Sam?" He held out his elbow to Sammy.
Sammy took it, still laughing. "You're funny. But I'm the pirate. You're just Rav."
"I'm in disguise, don't you know. I'm really Rav the Rager, scourge of the Seven Seas. Arrg."
"Arrg!" Sammy agreed.
At the park, the town had a chicken and barbecue ribs dinner going on. Hold My Paw had a large area with a canopy where people could meet the dogs and talk about adoption. Later in the day, there would be a dog pageant with award categories like longest tongue, longest tail, agility, prettiest grooming, and craziest costumes. Visitors had been encouraged to bring their own dogs, and Rav had seen a lot of them in town. But hopefully the adoption was the big draw.
Lance and Tim came over. Lance held out his hand and Rav shook it. "Sheriff."
"Mr. Miller!" Lance said in a singsong voice. He looked around. "This whole cosplay thing was a good idea. Brilliant!"
Rav looked at Tim in surprise. Tim blinked innocently.
"Um, yeah," Rav agreed. "Hopefully, more people will dress up next year. So… you seem pretty relaxed, considering that there are hundreds of strangers in the park."
"It's fiiiiiine," Lance said, waving his hand dismissively.
Rav raised his eyebrows at Tim.
Tim mouthed the word "Valium."
Rav barked a laugh.
"Hey, honey." Tim put his arm around Lance's back. "Why don't we go get some ribs? And we can help Jason and Milo at the grill. What do you think?"
"That's fine," Lance said agreeably.
Tim led him away.
The day was gorgeous and warm. The trees in the park were putting on their best autumn show, and the sky was as clear and blue as a Beaufort's eyes.
Rav got a plate of food, set up a stadium chair under a tree, and relaxed with Best Boy snoozing beside him. Why shouldn't Rav relax? Sammy, Simon, Lola, and a handful of other quickened kept up with all the people who wanted to adopt a dog. Lily seemed particularly effective at drawing out people's life stories so she could find them the right match.
Rav watched the dogs, one by one, walk off with their new families, their faces bright, tongues lolling. He felt a strong wave of sentimentality. He looked at his beer bottle suspiciously, wondering if Tim or Sammy had mickeyed his beer bottle with valium too. But no, it was just goddamn contentment. And Rav decided he deserved to feel content. So he went with it.
Pokey, the old bulldog, was one of the last to go, adopted by a silver-haired couple. Even from where he sat, Rav saw Sammy get teary-eyed. After kissing the dog's head and waving goodbye, he came over to where Rav was sitting.
Sammy tossed down his black hat and aimed his rear end. Rav barely had time to move his beer bottle before Sammy was in his lap, a hot and sweaty surrendered pirate. Rav secured him with an arm around his waist and put his chin on Sammy's shoulder.
"You okay?" Rav asked.
"Yes." Sammy sighed. "It's hard to let them go sometimes."
"I know, bae." Rav rubbed Sammy's chest.
"But it's good to know we saved their life. And there's always the next one to save."
"That's right."
"Maybe that's what it means to be brave," Sammy said thoughtfully.
Rav found he couldn't answer.
Sammy spoke confidently. "Welp! There's an old saying: He who loves the loudest, loves the best."
Rav laughed. "That's not the—"
He stopped himself and thought about it. He who loves the loudest. It was actually a fitting motto for Mad Creek.
"You know, I like that old saying." Rav squeezed Sammy tight.
"Me too," Sammy said.