Road Rovers: Himalayan Howl

A solitary figure struggled across the barren land, gasping for breath in the freezing cold.  He was warmly dressed in a parka, heavy pants, boots, and gloves made of yak’s hair.  His eyes shielded by goggles, he stared into the blinding snow and howling wind.  Where am I? he wondered.  The landscape, which he normally knew like the back of his hand even from a few stray rocks sticking up, was so covered that he couldn’t make anything out.  It was as if he were in an endless void of purest white, tinted orange by the lenses of his ski goggles.  Even by the ground beneath his feet, he could barely tell that he was traveling downhill, much less how steeply he was going.  Tentatively, he took a step forward.

 A cracking sound filled the air as a slab of ice came loose beneath his feet. It dropped about three feet and began to slide down the mountain with the beginnings of an avalanche in its wake.  Wide-eyed, he struggled to stay on the impromptu snowboard.  Mounds of snow zipped past faster and faster, sending adrenaline through the man’s body at a prodigious rate.

 The ride took an abrupt turn for the worse when the slab rammed into one of the mounds and shattered against a rock hidden by the snow.  His screams muffled by his scarf, the man flew though the air and crashed headfirst into the snow.  A moment later a wave of falling ice and rock picked him up and carried him along for several hundred yards before slowing to a dead stop.

A single gloved hand protruded from the snow.  Motionless.

 Shortly after, a larger hand reached out to take it.

“Well, another successful mission for the Road Rovers,” grinned Hunter as the Sky Rover sped over Asia.

 “That makes four this month,” Colleen put in.

 “Why are you keeping track-ski?” asked Exile.

 “Well,” Hunter replied, but he was suddenly interrupted.  A beeping sound came from the control panel, and a moment later a screen flashed to life with the image of a man’s face, lit from behind, with wild hair and glowing white eyes.  “Master!” exclaimed Hunter.

 The Master’s voice was grave.  “Rovers, I hate to bother you when you’ve just finished a mission, but there’s a problem that needs your immediate attention.”

 “Can it wait?” asked Blitz.  “I have an appointment with-”

 “No,” chorused the Master and the other Rovers.

 “What is the trouble-ski?” asked Exile.

 “A man has turned up missing in the Himalayas,” the Master explained.  As he spoke, a map of the remote mountain region replaced his face on the screen.  A red dot blinked on the map, and in the corner was a picture of a man with blonde hair and a short beard.  “He hasn’t been seen for several days, and the search parties can’t find a trace.”

 “What's so important about one lost hiker?” asked Blitz.

 “Maybe he’s in movies,” suggested Colleen.

 “Oh, cool,” Hunter brightened.  “I hope we can get his autograph.”

 The Master coughed slightly.  “The man is noted for his knowledge of medicine – no, human medicine, not veterinary medicine,” he added in response to a whimper from Shag.  “Among his more remarkable contributions was the discovery of a rare mineral compound with extraordinary healing qualities.  If he is lost, his insights will be lost as well.  Also, he is…”

 A burst of static cut out his next words.  “What was that?” asked Colleen.

 “His na… Al… he is…” and that was all they heard.  The signal died in static as snow whipped around the plane.

 “I would not have predicted this,” muttered Hunter.  “Well, Rovers, we’ve got our mission.  Let’s hit the road, Rovers!”

 “But we are not on the road,” Exile pointed out.

 “Hmm, good point,” agreed Hunter.  “How about, ‘Let’s hit the sky, Rovers’?”

 Nobody seemed to like that one much.  “Doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?” asked Colleen.

 “Picky, picky,” complained Hunter.

 As they changed course and headed for the coordinates the Master had sent, they pondered the mission ahead of them.  Who was the guy they were after?  Why had the signal died right before the Master could tell them?  And most important, when was lunch?

Meanwhile, back at their headquarters, a man named Professor Shepherd (a.k.a. the Master) sat staring at the static-y screen in suppressed frustration.  They don’t know, he thought.  They don’t know who they’re after.

At about the same time, somewhere in an isolated location, another man and a woman sat watching the news on a screen four feet high and six feet wide.  “After several days, local search parties have given up trying to find a man who turned the medical world on its head.”  A photo flashed on the screen, and both viewers gasped both at the man’s face and at the name under the photograph.

 “It’s impossible!” exclaimed the woman.

 “And here I thought we’d seen the last of them,” muttered the man, rubbing his stubbly chin with a metallic hand.  A nasty light glinted in his eye as the newscast continued.  “This may be the best thing that’s happened to us in a long time,” he gloated.

The Rovers flew past the area where the map indicated.  “Try the communication system again, Huntie,” urged Colleen.

 Hunter pressed the button, hoping to see the Master’s face.  But all he got was static.  “Bummer,” he complained.  After a moment’s thought he pushed another button and smiled as a detailed map of the area came on-screen.  “Well, the GPS still works.  And there’s a village not far from here.  Let’s stop and ask for directions.”

 A gurgling sound was heard from Shag’s direction, followed by a great deal of indecipherable talk.  Well, indecipherable unless you happened to be a dog.  “No, Shag,” Hunter replied, “I don’t think they have a restaurant there.”

 “Why bother asking anyway?” Colleen asked the sheepdog.  “You’ve got everything in your fur but the kitchen sink already.”

 Shag reached into his thick white pelt and a moment later produced a metallic double-sink, which he casually tossed aside.

 “I had to say it,” muttered the collie.

Much to their surprise, it turned out food was the least of their problems when they got to the village.  As soon as people saw them, they began running every which-way screaming gibberish.

 “What’s with them?” asked Blitz.

 “You’d think they had never seen Road Rovers before,” replied Exile.

 Doors slammed and curtains were drawn shut as people rushed indoors.  In less than a minute, the village seemed completely deserted.

 “You know,” Hunter suggested, “These people never watch TV.  Maybe they’ve never heard of us.”

 “Never heard of me?” asked Blitz.  “What a pity.”

 “Yeah,” Colleen muttered to Hunter.  “A pity now that they have.”

 “I hear of you,” said a voice.  They turned to see a boy coming toward them.  He had brownish skin, somewhere between African dark and a California tan, and he wore fairly simple clothes like all the other villagers.  Judging from his size he was roughly in his mid-teens.  He pointed to Shag.  “They say you yeti,” he explained.  He swiveled his head once to take in the group, then pointed a thumb at himself.  “I Sonam."

"What's nam, and where did you see it?" asked Hunter.

"I Sonam," the boy explained. "My name Sonam.  You dog-men come look for healer-man?”

 The rovers exchanged an uncertain look.  “We’re looking for this guy,” Hunter told him, pulling out a photograph printed from the Master’s briefing.

 The boy’s eyes lit up instantly.  “Yes, him healer-man Alan!  Friend of Sonam!”

 “You know him?” asked Exile.

 Sonam nodded eagerly.  “Yes, once I very sick.  Village chief say must go to mountains or make everyone sick.  I go, almost die.”  He pointed to the picture.  “Him find me, make well.  Now we life-friends.”

 Colleen was quick to take advantage of their good fortune.  “Do you know where we can find him?”

 Sonam shook his head sadly.  “Nobody know.  Alan go into mountain, say he go learn more medicine.  Three weeks, not come back.  Many search, not find.”

 Hunter laid a hand on Sonam’s shoulder.  “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.  The Road Rovers haven’t failed a mission yet.”

 Sonam smiled, seized Hunter’s hand, and shook it fervently.  “I help you.  I know some paths healer-man use.  Be guide!”

 “No way!” protested Blitz.  “He’ll slow us down!”

 Hunter wanted to tell Blitz a thing or two about manners, but the Doberman did have a point.  “Sorry, Sonam,” he replied, “But this isn’t a trip for kids.”

 Hadji was outraged.  “I not kid!” he exploded.  “Kid is goat! I man!  I fifteen winters old!”

 The Rovers looked at each other.  “Guess they grow ‘em faster ‘ere,” Colleen observed.

 “I be much help.  Good help,” Sonam went on, speaking with all the vigor and urgency of Billy Graham on espresso.  “I go into mountains many time.  Show way.”  Hunter was about to tell him no again, but Sonam insisted.  “Alan my friend.  Him save me.  I help him now.”

 Hunter had to concede now.  After all, how could any dog not respect loyalty like that?  “OK,” he agreed.  “You can come.  But if things get too rough out there, you go home.  OK?”

 Sonam grinned and raised his left thumb and index finger in a circle, with the other fingers spread out.  “Dokee-okee, dog-man.”

 Colleen glanced at Exile.  “If I didn’t know better I’d think you two were related.”

Sonam was nothing if not efficient.  In the space of less than twenty minutes he had climbing ropes, grappling hooks, spikes, picks, and food all packed up.  He’d even managed to make a sign for Shag to wear which, in the local language, read, “Not a yeti.”  “Many people not read here,” he admitted, “But it help.”

 “How do you pack all this stuff so quick-ski?” asked Exile.

 “I not bring skis,” Sonam replied.  “We going up mountain, not down.”

 “No, he means how’d you get it all together so fast?” asked Hunter.

 Sonam smiled.  “Alan talk about you sometimes.  Tell me dog-men always come when there big danger.  So me know you come rescue.  Be ready.”

 Hunter nodded approvingly.  “Well, let’s hit the road.”

 Sonam stared at him.  “Why we strike road?” he asked.  “It not hurt us.  Road good.”

 Hunter’s face took on a slightly irked expression.  “Let’s go, OK?”

 Sonam nodded.  “Absolutely.  No time for things like hitting road.”

Their young guide led them up into the mountains, along rocky trails and narrow ledges.  At about five in the afternoon, a hard wind started to blow, whipping snow into their faces.  The dogs pressed on, Exile occasionally clearing the path ahead with bursts of heat vision.  At last Sonam stopped.  “This good place stop for night,” he smiled, leaning against the mountainside.

 The Rovers looked around.  “Good place?” echoed Blitz.  “You must be crazy.”

 “Yeah,” agreed Hunter.  “There’s no place to pitch our tents or build a fire.”

 At the mention of the word “fire,” Shag produced a handful of toasting forks and a package of marshmallows from his fur.  “Ra-re-ro-rah-reh-roo?” he gibbered.

 Colleen shook her head.  “No, no place for a fire.”

 Shag put the items back with a groan.

 “Who need tent?” asked Sonam.  Then he seemed to realize something.  “You not know?  I thought dogs would know.  Here, I show you.”  And he began to dig into the snow covering the side of the mountain.  He dug with such fervor that soon he was lost to sight.

 “Whoa, now there’s a kid who knows how to dig,” Hunter approved.

 “What is he looking for?” asked Blitz.

 Sonam appeared a moment later.  “Come in!” he replied.  “Much cold out here!”

 Blitz made a circling motion around one ear with his finger.  “I think this kid is a teensy bit kooky,” he confided.

 Sonam heard.  “No, I brought no cookies,” he replied.  “Alan may have some when we find, though.”  And with that, he disappeared back into the hole.

 The Rovers crawled through the tunnel he had dug, which hit the rocky side of the mountain and went up at an angle for a yard or two before it leveled out again.  Only now it was no longer snow in which they found themselves, but a large rocky cave.  It was about ten feet wide, at least thirty feet deep, and the ceiling was high enough for all of them to stand up.  What was most noticeable about it, though, was the smell.

 “Blimey!” muttered Colleen, pinching her muzzle.  “That’s aromatherapy for ya.”

 Blitz checked his feet.  “Wasn’t me,” he defended.

 “It reminds me of polar bear I once knew,” complained Exile.  Shag echoed the sentiment by digging in his fur and producing a clothespin, which he firmly attactched to his nose.

 Sonam was busy with something on the ground.  After some fiddling he struck two rocks together and ignited a rag-topped torch.  Holding it aloft, he pointed with his free hand.  “That what you smell,” he said, pointing to a pile of fur.  “Alan keep bear skins in cave, smell keep yetis away.  Cave safe.”

 Hunter wrinkled his nose.  “Well, it’s not what I’d call an air freshener, but I guess it works.”

 “How does this Alan chap know so much about yetis?” asked Colleen.

 Sonam shrugged.  “He say monks in mountain tell him.  Know much, make him good healer-man.”

 The Rovers set about rolling out their sleeping bags.  Hunter turned on an electric lantern so Hadji wouldn’t need to use the torch and fill the cave with smoke.  Sonam, meanwhile, had taken the bear skins and rearranged them into a makeshift bed, which he offered to Colleen.  “Alan say good to be kind to women,” he beamed, evidently proud of being such a good student of Alan.  “Him call it shovelry.”

 Colleen smiled, deciding not to comment on the fact that the word was actually “chivalry.”  She unrolled her sleeping bag on top of the hides while everyone else set theirs up around the cave.

 “Well, it’s not what I’d call five-star,” observed Hunter, “But I guess we’ll be okay.”

 Sonam stared at him.  “You talk like Alan.  I never understand why talk about stars.”  He gestured to the ceiling.  “In cave, never see any stars.”

 Hunter shook his head.  “I wonder if this is how Columbus felt when he first met the Indians.”

 Their young friend’s face twisted into a perplexed expression.  “Who Columbus?”

The team slept through the night, and Sonam awoke bright and early to urge the others out of their sleeping bags.  “Come!” he called.  “We find Alan now, yes?”

 The response on the first three was anemic at best.  Exile rolled over.  Shag rumbled a little and put a paw over his ear.  Blitz muttered something about his dream and was silent.

 Sonam sized up the matter and turned to Colleen, reasoning that his mother had always been an early riser so perhaps a lady dog would be the same.

 After shaking her by the shoulder a few times, he succeeded in rousing her.  She sat up, blinking and rubbing her eyes.  “Blimey,” she muttered, “Is it time to get up already?”

 “Yes,” answered Sonam.  “We must be going to find Alan now.”

 “Right,” agreed Colleen, pushing herself up and out of the bag.  She went first to Hunter, who was lightly snoring.  She shook him briefly, with little reaction.  Failing that, she decided on a more direct approach.  “Good morning, Huntie-Wuntie,” she said sweetly, pinching his nose shut.

 Hunter snerked, then sat bolt upright.  Once he got his bearings, he furrowed his brow in confusion at the two standing over him.  “What?” he asked.  Then he remembered.  “Oh yeah, the mission.”  Quickly he was out of his sleeping bag, placing both hands against his lower back and pushing forward as he approached Exile.  “Ugh, what I wouldn’t give for my old doggie bed,” he groaned.

 It took no more than five minutes to wake up the whole crew.  Exile got up with little reluctance, and Blitz lost all desire to stay in his sleeping bag after Exile froze the bottom end of it.  The real difficulty was Shag.  Shaking did nothing.  Freezing had no effect.  Even pinching his nose proved futile.

 “How we get shaggy dog-man awake?” asked Hadji.

 “Only one thing can wake Shag out of a snooze this deep,” answered Hunter.

 “Smelling salts?” ventured Colleen.

 “Russian opera music?” offered Exile.

 “Maybe a little nip?” Blitz asked hopefully, displaying just a bit of fang.

 “Nope.”  Hunter leaned over Shag’s head, whispered something, and was almost knocked flat as the sheepdog sat bolt upright.  “Raaawwwrr!” he growled.

 “What you say?” asked Sonam.

 Hunter smiled.  “I told him if he didn’t wake up we’d have breakfast without him.”

 “Ah ha, now there’s ya comedy,” Colleen cracked.

Breakfast, which Sonam insisted on providing, consisted of jerky and a pasty mash made from melted snow and some sort of grain he had in his pack.  The mash tasted a little like sweet corn and a little like oatmeal, and the jerky was… well difficult to describe.  Shag mumbled something after a bite of it.

 “What he say?” asked Sonam.

 Hunter swallowed a bite of his meat before answering.  “He wants to know what kind of jerky this is.”

 “The dry meat?” asked Sonam with a grin.  “You happier not ask.”

 “Why?” asked Blitz.  “It is nice and chewy.”

 Sonam smirked.  “Alan ask once.  I tell him, and his stomach say he not want it so bad.”

 The Rovers looked at each other, and by an unspoken unanimous vote decided not to ask what it was.  They also decided by the same vote to leave the rest of the meat to Hadji and instead try some more of the oatmeal.

They finished their breakfast and began hiking again.  None of the Rovers had a clue where they were, but Sonam led the way as confidently as if he were in his own backyard.  “He sometimes take this trail up to hidden place,” he said.

 “Where’s that?” asked Colleen.

 He shrugged.  “I not know.  He no tell anyone where hidden place is, only that it must be secret because it where the monks live.  Way be dangerous, yeti here.”

 If the way was dangerous, the lad showed little fear.  With virtually no effort, he navigated the tricky terrain, using the hooked end of his stick to pull himself up small ledges and the sharp end to anchor himself on the snow.  Suddenly he stopped, as still as if he had been frozen in place.  “I hear sound.”

 The Rovers looked around.  They hadn’t heard anything.  “Wha-?” asked Blitz, but he was cut off as Hadji whipped his head to the left.  “There it is again,” he said.  “You no hear it?”

 And then they did hear it.  In the distance behind them came a long, moaning call.  The Rovers couldn’t suppress a small shiver at the sound.  “What’s that?” asked Blitz.

 “Sign is time to be moving,” answered Hadji with a note of dread in his voice.  “Hurry!”

 They pressed on as quickly as they could, but the sound kept coming closer and closer.  Soon it was coming from behind one moment, off to their side the next, then behind them again.

 Sonam stopped.  “They got us,” he announced.

 The calls came closer and closer.  “Uh, guys?” muttered Hunter.  “Just a hunch, but I think we might be in trouble.”

 Sonam was clenching his walking stick tightly.  “Whatever you do, no look in eyes,” he told the Rovers.  “They kill if you do.”

 “Who will?” asked Blitz as Shag whimpered.

 A crunch of feet in the snow approached from all around them.  “Not who, what,” the boy corrected.

 Then the first one appeared, climbing over a massive rock like a demon king rising out of the floor in a play.  A huge white body covered from head to toe in long, thick fur.  Arms that could have bench-pressed a truck, and legs like pillars ending in massive bare feet.  Sonam shivered as he whispered, “Yetis.”

 The Rovers clustered back-to-back with Shag cowering in the center as a dozen more appeared.  The Rovers were completely surrounded.

 “They’ve got us outnumbered two to one,” Colleen observed.  “Any ideas, gents?”

 “I have one,” Blitz offered.  “I suggest we all scream uncontrollably.”

 “No!” whispered Sonam, wrapping a hand around the Doberman’s muzzle.  “Keep voices down!  Alan say yetis no like yelling, make mad.  And no look in eyes!  They kill.”

 “So what do we do?” asked Hunter.

 Sonam shrugged.  “Alan think they want we leave alone,” he suggested, hunkering down and favoring his arm.  “Maybe we act hurt, they not hurt us.”  The Rovers copied his example, but as the first yeti came forward they wondered if it would work.

 “Please, oh, please, oh please,” Blitz could be heard quietly begging.  “I’m too pretty to die.”

 Sonam made a face.  “He always like that?” he asked.

 Exile nodded.  “The weird boy is case of lost basket needing many marbles.”

 The white apes crowded in to examine the dogs, pointing and gesturing while they exchanged low grunts as if talking.  Then one bent down and picked up Blitz.

 “No-ho-ho-ho!” he sobbed.  “Don’t take me, please!”

 “Quiet!” hissed Sonam urgently.

 Evidently the yeti agreed.  It shook Blitz until he stopped, then grasped him in one huge arm.  One by one the rest were scooped up except for Shag, whom they coaxed to his feet and then urged to walk along.

 “Looks like the villagers aren’t the only ones who think he looks like a yeti,” whispered Colleen.

 Hunter nodded, then turned to Hadji.  “You think this is a good idea?” he asked.

 Sonam nodded.  “Yeti big, strong, very strong,” he whispered.  “If they no kill, I happy.”

The pallid primates carried them a long way before finally entering a large cave.  Glowing fungus on the walls provided some illumination as they wandered through.  But the fungus wasn’t the surprising thing.

 Yetis.  At least two dozen of them were scattered around the cave, sitting on the floor or staring at the walls or curled up asleep.  At the entry of the Rovers and their captors, the residents of the cave gathered around to examine their guests.  More grunting talk was exchanged, and finally they seemed to reach a decision.  The team was taken over by a pile of brush and set down.  Shag, meanwhile, was left to his own devices.  He went over to them and sat down, muttering something.

 “What he say?” asked Sonam.

 “He wants to know what they’re doing with us,” replied Hunter.  “And I wouldn’t mind knowing that either.”

 “They probably want to eat us,” groaned Blitz, biting his nails.

 “I no think so,” whispered Sonam.  “They not hurt us yet.”

 “Then why they catch us like fish in hand?” asked Exile.  At a puzzled look from his teammates, he weakly offered, “Birds in net?”

 “Okay, that kinda made sense,” Hunter admitted.

 A small yeti, apparently a baby, toddled over to them with a fist-sized rock, which it threw toward them.  Colleen wasn’t quick enough, and the rock landed on her hand.  “Ow!” she cried.

 The baby ape ran to her and retrieved the rock.  This time it rolled the rock toward the dogs.

 “I think I get it,” Hunter muttered.  He scooped up the rock and tossed it back to the yeti, who caught it with ease.  It uttered some excited-sounding grunts and threw it back.

 “It playing?” asked Sonam in total befuddlement as Hunter caught the rock.

 “Wait a minute,” muttered Colleen, “If they brought us ‘ere to play, then they must think…”

 The group exchanged worried glances.  “We’re their pets,” they chorused.

 That was when Shag started muttering excitedly.  “Rah reh ruh rara rah!” he exclaimed.

 “What?” asked Sonam.

 “He said look at… whoa!” Hunter nearly jumped out of his skin.  Shag had pulled aside the pile of branches.  There, as still as a statue, lay…

 “Alan!” cried Sonam.

The yetis turned in their direction with an irritable growl, and Sonam toned his voice down.  “Alan!” he whispered.

 “I would not have predicted this,” added Hunter.

 “We’ve got to figure some way of getting him out of ‘ere,” worried Colleen as she gingerly examined a scabbed-over gash on the man’s forehead.  “With a bump on the noggin like that, there’s no telling what kind of damage might have been done.”

 “He alive?” queried Sonam.

 Colleen removed a glove and slid two fingers down under the man’s scarf.  “Oh, he’s alive,” she assured the group after a moment’s silence.  “But if he’s not properly cared for, he might not last long.”  She briefly ran her hands over him, checking for injuries.  “Leg feels pretty bad too.”

 “What should we do?” asked Blitz.

 Colleen picked up some branches and pulled out a roll of bandages, which she used to make a splint for the leg.  “I think Shag should be able to carry him without hurting him much, which only leaves us one problem.”  Looking back at the cave, she added, “Or rather three dozen of them.”

 Hunter smiled as he pulled a couple of bones out of his pocket.  “I think I can take care of that.”

 “Bones get rid of yetis?” asked Sonam quizzically.

 “Oh, you’d be surprised,” winked Hunter.  He and the other Rovers pulled out gas masks.  “I dunno if this’ll fit you,” Hunter told Sonam as he passed him one, “so hold your breath just in case.”

 Staring at the apes, Hunter threw the bones.  The bones fell, broke open, and released a pink gas.  Every ape the gas reached fell to its knees, coughing and holding its throat.

 “Let’s go!” called Hunter.  Shag scooped up Alan, and together the group dashed past the coughing apes and into the snow.

 “Where we go?” asked Sonam.

 “Anywhere but here-ski!” Exile answered.

 Colleen rolled a snowball and threw it at the snow above the cave’s mouth.  A mini-avalanche came down, blocking the entrance almost completely except for a small hole which trailed vapors from Hunter’s gas bones.  “That oughta hold them for awhile,” she said.

 “Then let us hurry,” urged Sonam.  “Waste is timing.”

 As they ran, Hunter glanced at Colleen.  “How’d you do that thing with the snowball?”

 “Ah, you’d be amazed what you can learn on a ski vacation,” she replied.

 The Rovers found a cave nearby, this one free of yetis, where Exile lit a fire while Colleen splinted Alan’s leg and the others sought some way of reviving him.  Shag produced a bottle of water, but nothing came out when he tipped it.  It was frozen solid.

 “Let me try,” volunteered Sonam.  He went outside and brought back a handful of snow, which he held in his bare fist over Alan’s face.

 “How does he keep his hand from freezin’?” asked Colleen.  “Here I can barely feel me own nose.”

 Sonam was oblivious.  He squeezed the snow, and the heat from his hand melted it so a few drops fell onto the man’s face.  Alan groaned and shifted slightly.

 “Ruh rah!” cheered Shag, but Sonam remained silent.  He squeezed the snow harder, and more water fell.  After several drops, Alan groaned and opened his eyes.  “Wha…?” he asked drowsily.

 “Alan!”  Sonam tossed aside the snow and threw his arms around his friend’s neck.

 Alan dumbly took it in.  “ Sonam…?” he asked.

 Sonam helped his friend sit up, but the man winced and grunted in pain when his leg shifted.  “My leg,” he groaned.  “It feels like I broke it in that avalanche.”

 “Just take it easy, pal,” Hunter told him.  “You’ll be fine now that the we're here.”

 Shag offered him a drink from a bottle of water, now thawed by a little help from Exile’s heat vision.  Sonam began to babble excitedly.  “You get lost, many days!  Dog-men and dog-woman come rescue, just like you say!” the teenager explained.

 The man looked around at them, hardly looking surprised.  “I figured he’d send you,” he said, as if waking up to a group of canine superheroes were the most natural thing in the world.  “When I woke up in the yetis’ cave for a second or two, I knew he’d send you.”

 The Road Rovers stared at him.  “You know him?” asked Blitz.

 Alan nodded.  “I ought to.”  He was silent for a long moment, as if he were about to tell them a long-kept secret.  “My name is Alan Shepherd.  Professor Shepherd is my father.”

“He’s your dad?” asked Hunter in complete amazement.

 “Blimey!” interjected Colleen.  “They do sort of resemble one another, don’t they?”

 There was no denying that.  Aside from the fact that Alan’s face had fewer wrinkles and his hair was blonde instead of white, he looked almost exactly like the Master.

 “But he never talked about you,” Blitz pointed out.

 Alan hung his head.  “Until recently, he didn’t know I was alive.”

 The Rovers moved Alan over to the fire and sat around Indian-style to hear his tale.  “I was just a kid when it happened.  Dad was working on his machine, the transdogmafier.  He told us it was going to help mankind.  Then someone kidnapped our dog, Scout, and not long after that Dad’s lab blew up.  I found out about it when some men in suits came to the door and told Mom that Dad had been killed.”  His voice was heavy with the pain of his loss years ago.  “She tried not to let on, but I heard her crying at night when she thought my sister and I were asleep.  She cried every night and most of the day every day for the next three days.”

 In the long moment of silence, Shag uttered a long string of dog-sounds.

 “Then what happened?” translated Hunter.

 Alan hung his head.  “I… I went to play at a friend’s house, and heard an explosion at mine.  When I ran to see what had happened, my house was gone.  All that was left was a pile of burning rubble.  Mom and my big sister Sarah were dead.”  He clenched a fist.  “There were a man and a woman standing outside, looking at the wreckage and laughing.  The man had a yellow mustache and wore a metal helmet.  The woman was in a black-and-red jumpsuit, and wore a helmet just like his.”

 “Parvo,” growled Colleen, clenching a fist.

 “And Groomer,” added Hunter, every bit as angry.

 Sonam had been listening wide-eyed to the tale.  “You get justice?” he asked.  “You make bad man and bad woman pay?”

 Alan spread his hands.  “How could I?” he asked.  “I was only five years old, I didn’t know what to do.”

 “So what did you do-ski?” asked Exile.

Alan’s voice was filled with shame as the pain of that long-ago tragedy came back to him.  “I ran.  I ran away from the carnage, and I never looked back.  And I’ve been on the run ever since.”  He looked up.  “I felt so upset about failing to do anything that I began to travel the world looking for some way to make a difference.  When I found the monks, they said they wanted someone to convey their knowledge to the outside world.  So I took the job.  I know it’s helped, but…” he hung his head.  “I’ll never be able to do anything for my mom, or my sister.  I was too scared to even try to get in touch with my dad when I realized he was still alive.  I couldn’t face him after I ran away like that, and I knew if he was still around then those two who blew up our house must be too.”

Hunter glared.  “Now it’s personal.”

 Just then Shag began to twitch and scratch himself.  “Rrr-rr,” he complained.

 “What is wrong, comrade?” asked Exile.

 Shag thrust a paw into his fur and a moment later extracted what at first resembled a very large hairball.  But it wasn’t a hairball.  It was…

 “Yeti!” cried Sonam.

 The small ape squirmed in Shag’s grasp, prompting the dog to drop it.  Terrified, the yeti ran to Shag and clung to his leg, uttering small whimpering sounds.

 “Where did he come from?” asked Hunter.

 “He must have tagged along when we escaped,” Alan replied.

 Sonam was worried.  “We make yeti leave!” he cried, grabbing the creature and trying in vain to pry it off Shag.  “Other yeti be mad we take!”

 Colleen separated the boy from the ape and pointed outside.  “We can’t do that,” she insisted.  “The little bloke would never survive out there.”

 “So what do we do?” asked Blitz.

 Hunter furrowed his brow.  “We have to find some way to get him back to his, uh…” he turned to Alan.  “What do you call a group of them anyway?”

 Alan shrugged.  “The monks call it a tribe.  But we’d better move as soon as we can.  This storm should be bad enough to keep them at bay for now, but once it lets up they’ll be after us.”

 “We’d better take five until then,” Hunter decided.  “Everybody make yourselves comfy.”

 Blitz smiled at Colleen.  “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said.  “What do you say?”

 Shag and Exile covered their heads.

 “Flying Dutchman!” Colleen shouted, lashing out with a foot.  Blitz flew across the cave, crashing into the far wall.

 “Sorry,” said Colleen, walking up to him.  “I didn’t see you standing there.  “I’m Colleen.  Have we been introduced?”

 Blitz just groaned.

 “Do they do this a lot?” Alan whispered to Exile.

 “Not enough for me-ski,” chuckled the husky.  The baby yeti, who had been watching the proceedings, merely tilted his head to one side in confusion.

Three hours later found them on the go again.  Sonam had fashioned a crutch for Alan, but Shag carried the man in his arms to keep him off his leg as much as possible.  The baby yeti, cheated of that spot, had opted to climb onto Colleen’s backpack.

 “Maybe you remind him of his mom?” suggested Hunter in response to the collie’s confused expression.

 Colleen’s face twisted into one of those irked looks only women ever seem to perfect.  “Thanks,” she quipped.  “There’s a compliment I’ll treasure forever.”

 “Ah, don’t mention it,” Hunter beamed, apparently missing Colleen’s annoyance.

 Just then, the earth began to rumble.  “Avalanche!” cried Alan.

 They looked up the mountain, but didn’t see anything coming down.  Then with an explosion of rock and snow, a massive object burst from the ground beneath them and sent them flying.

 From where they landed, they looked up at a huge vehicle.  It looked like an army tank, but it had two massive drills on the front, still whirring.  The drills stopped after a moment, and a massive gun extended from the top, pointing in their direction.

 “Well, well, well,” came an oh-so-familiar voice from a speaker on the outside of the tank as the Rovers got to their feet.  “So nice of you dogs to drop by, and to find that little pipsqueak for me too.”

 Alan’s eyes narrowed.  “You,” he growled, leaning on his crutch.  “I remember your voice.  You killed my family!”

 “Yes, so I did,” Parvo replied.  “Now I’ve finally caught up with you, and the Road Rovers as well.”  The gun on top of the tank swiveled until it was pointed directly at Alan in the center of the group.  “And once that’s done, I believe your hairy little playmate will prove very profitable.  You managed to slip away before, but nobody can hide from me forever.  Say goodbye, Alan Shepherd!”

 “You know, it’s too bad we left Muzzle back at headquarters,” Hunter mused.  “He loves this kind of stuff.”

 “So what do we do now?” asked Colleen.

 Hunter shrugged.  “Well, there’s always the old standby.  RUN!”

 The group beat a hasty retreat, with Shag carrying the crippled Alan and Colleen toting the yeti on her back as one blast after another fired from the tank’s massive gun, some shots coming so close the Rovers could feel the force of the blasts when they hit.  They were almost to a spot where the ledge curved around and got too narrow for the tank to navigate when a shot whizzed by Hunter’s head so close that the wind from its passing almost knocked him over, reducing the path to impassable rubble.  “Now what?” asked Blitz.

 Alan looked around.  “There!” he cried, pointing to a narrow side-path winding its way up the mountain.  It looked like tricky going, but it was their only option.  Besides, there was no way the tank could follow them up that.

 “What are we waiting for?  Let’s move!”  the group hustled up to a small ledge where the mountainside projected overhead, leaving a depression about six feet deep.

“Well, at least he can’t get us here,” Hunter smiled.  Just then a blast from the tank’s cannon hit the mountainside ten feet away, reducing the path to a shallow dent in the rocks.  Another shot cut off their escape, before the gun swung around to point directly at them.  “Huh.  I would not have predicted this.”

 “Can’t you make an accurate prediction just once?” asked Colleen as the baby yeti clung to her leg.

 Hunter shrugged.  “Well sure, but this makes it more fun.”

 “Say goodbye, Rovers!” shouted Parvo’s voice as a screaming projectile hurtled in their direction.

 But before the shell could hit, a massive wall of snow poured down from the cliff edge immediately above the team’s heads.  The rocks above them deflected the onslaught from above, but they had hardly any distance between them and the frozen fall.  Meanwhile, the avalanche had caught the assault, and a moment later the Rovers heard a dull thump well below them as the shell detonated harmlessly in the ice and snow.

 “What happening?!” yelled Sonam over the deafening rumble of snow, ice, and rock.

 “Well, I’d say Parvo just found out the meaning of ‘snow job,’” Hunter replied.

 As the avalanche subsided, a series of triumphant hoots issued from overhead as several apes swung down from the ledge like they were dropping off of monkey bars.

 “The yetis!” cried Alan.

 “They must have caused the avalanche,” observed Colleen.

 The white apes quickly surrounded them on the narrow ledge.  One of them stepped forward and pointed at the Rovers, uttering a long string of accusatory grunts.

 “What did he say?” asked Exile.

 “I don’t know, but I get the feeling we’ve just been insulted or threatened,” answered Alan.  

“Maybe we should dare him to say it again,” suggested Colleen.

 Then their little yeti friend ran forward.  It uttered a babbling string of grunts, gurgles, and coos as it gestured over the edge of the ledge they all stood on, then at itself, then at the Rovers, and then wrapped its arms around itself as if hugging itself.

 “What is he saying?” asked Blitz, turning to Shag.  Shag just shrugged.

 Whatever the baby said seemed to surprise the elder ape, who jerked his head back slightly and grunted in a questioning tone.  The baby nodded, and the big yeti raised a paw to his chin.  After a moment he turned and pointed to some of the other apes, who lumbered forward and snatched up the crew.

 “Here we go again,” muttered Exile with a shrug.

 The ape carrying her took one of her hands in each paw and placed her with surprising gentleness on its back as if putting on a pack.  The other apes did the same with their passengers, and then went to the edge of the precipice.  With daring born of experience, they turned their backs to the open air and began their descent.

 “Well,” Hunter remarked from a yeti close by, “It beats walking, doesn’t it?”

 “Yeah, but it’s a jolly fine spot we’re in now,” complained Colleen.  “We got rid of Parvo and now they’ll be taking us back.”

 But to their surprise, the yetis made no move to capture them.  Instead, once they reached the bottom, the tribe gathered around them and raised their faces skyward, lifting their fists and hooting loudly.

 “I thought they didn’t like loud noises,” observed Hunter.

 “Maybe it’s some kind of special occasion,” replied Alan.  “Like they’re cheering or something.”

"Village never believe this,"  Sonam muttered under his breath.

 Whatever the cause of their strange behavior, the apes lowered their arms and faces.  Then as one, they turned to go.

 “What that?” asked Sonam.

 Alan shrugged.  “We’ll probably never know,” he replied.

 Just then the baby yeti ran back to Colleen with its paws clasped together.  It handed her something, gurgled, and ran off into the snowy haze to join its family.

 “What was that?” asked Exile.

 Colleen looked down at the object in her hands, then smiled slightly.

 It was a rock.

As the Rovers got ready to leave, they realized there was a problem.  Sonam was needed in his village, and despite his doubts the people were excited to hear about anyone who had been in the cave of the yetis and lived to tell the tale.  But he wanted to go with the Rovers.  “No take Alan,” pleaded Hadji.  “I go too.”

 “Sorry,” Hunter replied.  And you could tell he really meant it.  “And you have to stay here.”

 Colleen put a hand on  Sonam’s shoulder, trying to comfort him.  “He needs to get that leg worked on some more, and the only way to do that is to take him with us.”

 “Dah,” added Exile.  “And someone back home would like very much to see him.”

 Sonam walked over to Alan and hugged him.  “You best friend,” he said.  “You come back?”

 Alan smiled.  “I promise, buddy.”

 Shag helped him into the plane, followed by the other Rovers.  They fastened their seatbelts, fired up the engine, and took off still waving out the window to  Sonam.

“Well, let’s go,” urged Hunter.

 Alan hesitated.  “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted.

 “Don’t worry,” Exile assured him.  “Everything will be dokee-okee.”

 “He’s right,” added Hunter.  “I know he’ll be glad to see you.”

 “But what could I say, after disappearing for all these years and not even letting him know I was okay?”

 “Just go,” urged Blitz.

 Colleen patted him on the shoulder.  “We’ll go in ahead of you and get him ready for ya.  You just wait here.”

 The Rovers entered the briefing room, except for Shag who stayed behind with Alan.  “Master,” Hunter announced.  “We completed our mission.”

 Professor Shepherd looked shaken.  “Was it… was it a success?”

 “You bet-ski,” grinned Exile.  “Missing man is fit as rain, right as a fiddle.”

 The professor wiped his forehead.  “Thank God for that,” he whispered.  Then for the first time he seemed to notice Shag’s absence.  “Where is Shag?”

 “Ah, he’s with a friend we picked up,” Hunter replied.  “He’ll be off his feet for a couple of days, but we thought you might want to talk to him in the meantime.”

 Right on cue, Shag came in with the object of their discussion.  Alan hobbled forward on his crutches to the man who stood there, first his eyes and then his arms wide open.  “Dad,” he choked slightly.

 “Alan!”  The Master threw his arms around his son, supporting him as the crutches clattered to the floor.  Tears trickled from his eyes as he embraced the younger man.

 Exile wiped an eye too, then broke down bawling and fell onto the nearest Rover, Hunter.  “Oh, it is so, so moving!” he cried.

 Colleen stepped in to pat the husky on the back.  “There, there, guvnuh.”

 “Aren’t happy endings the best?” asked Hunter.

 “Sheesh, talk about mushy,” grumbled Blitz.

 “Shhh!” hissed the other Rovers.

They stared on at the two Shepherds, who were clearly oblivious to the exchanges.  The Rovers quietly slipped out, leaving father and son to be by themselves.

 “Well, it’s time to do that thing again,” Hunter said after they had closed the door to the briefing room.

 “What thing is that?” asked Exile.

“You know, the thing we always do after a mission,” replied Colleen.

 Exile slapped his forehead.  “Oh, dah!  I completely forgot-ski.”

 Hunter pumped a fist in the air.  “To the power of the pack!”

 “ARROOOOOO!!!”

Half a world away, a huge metal object emerged from the snow.  Drills whirring, a battered-but-running tank emerged from the snow.

 “They th-th-think they’ve won,” glowered Parvo inside chattering with cold, “But like the Phoenix f-f-from the ashes, we shall r-r-r-rise again!”

 “What about the yetis?” asked Groomer, arms wrapped tightly around herself for warmth.

 Parvo started to answer, then broke down coughing.  “Lozenge!” he cried.

 Groomer fired one into his mouth, and he rolled it around his tongue a moment before answering.  “We can t-take care of those walking fur coats l-l-later,” he grumbled.  “All I want is to finish off those miserable Ro-o-achoo!” his words ended in a violent sneeze.  Wiping his nose, he added, “Right after we get the heater fixed.”