by Otto Schafer
“Huh?” Garrett said, looking up from Dagrun’s journal to find Lenny and Pete standing over him.
“Dagrun’s journal?” Lenny asked, plopping down next to Garrett.
“Oh, um, yeah. I couldn’t sleep anymore. Too wound up, I guess.”
“Guess old glowworm got you feeling fresh,” Lenny said, making a face like he was trying to pass gas – one eye squinting shut. He held out both hands and they began to shake, but no golden light poured from them like it did when David healed.
“You’re so wrong. But I got to admit, if you could grow a mustache like David, that would be a pretty good impression.” Pete laughed, shaking his head at Lenny.
Lenny ran his hand across the back of his face, “Yeah, well, not on my wish list. When you have a face like mine, you don’t hide it with facial fur.”
Garrett laughed too. “Modest much?”
Lenny shrugged. “Some of us are just born blessed.”
“Anyway, yeah, it was so weird. I was completely dead when we got here, but after he healed me, I felt like I could have just kept right on pedaling. Where is David, anyway?” Garrett asked, looking past the shelter.
“Still sleeping it off.” Lenny threw a sideways glance toward one of the other three-sided shelters. “After he healed you, I finally got him awake so he could heal Ed. The big guy didn’t want to admit it, but he was pretty beat up from his journey here from Canada.”
“Ed let David heal him?”
“Well, only after Paul called him a coward a few times. Oh, and Ed did threaten to kill David if anything went wrong,” Lenny said with a smile.
“You learn anything useful?” Pete asked, nodding at the journal.
“Not sure yet. I just started reading it. But you guys, Coach had a kid! And I don’t think he ever got to meet him.”
“What? That’s crazy!” Lenny said, shaking his head. “Coach with a kid.”
“Yeah, the journal is written like he’s talking to him,” Garrett said.
“I read really, really fast,” Pete said, his r sounds coming out more like w’s. “I can skim it for anything useful if you want.”
“No!” Garrett said, too loud.
Pete recoiled.
“I mean no… no thanks. I want to read it first – for Coach. He asked me to.”
Pete held up his hands. “No worries, just an offer.”
Garrett tucked the old journal carefully back into his pack and looked around. “Hey, where’s Paul and Ed?”
“They went down to the lake to get some water.” Lenny pointed toward the trail leading to Prairie Lake.
The boys sat staring out across the campground beyond the stone-ringed firepits and slowly greening grass, toward the trail hidden by an expanse of oak trees separating the camp from the lake. Squirrels rustled the leaves of fall’s leftovers, looking for a quick meal, as others gave chase, protecting whatever remained of their winter acorn stash. From the other direction a breeze blew through the prairie like a wave moving across the ocean, crashing water replaced by the swooshing of dried grass still hiding spring’s new growth.
“My mom used to bring me here to fish. Well, not this spot exactly, but this lake,” Pete said, nodding his head to the north. “Over on the other side in the main campground. We never came to this area since you can’t drive back here… too far of a hike.” Pete drew in a breath as if he were breathing in all the world around him. He let out a long sigh. “Sure is nice here.”
There was a hint of sadness in the affirmation that wasn’t lost on Garrett. He heard the next words even though Pete never spoke them. He missed his mom and Janis, and he wished they could all go back to before. Garrett wished it too. God, he wished it.
Garrett stood up, stretched, and then spun in a slow circle. Appraising the sky. The sun had been making its way across the morning blue backdrop for well over an hour. But Garrett wasn’t interested in the sun.
“What are you thinking?” Lenny asked.
“I’m wondering if we have gotten far enough away to be safe from dragons,” Garrett asked.
Pete shrugged nervously. “Um… I’d say, no. Guys, we only rode thirteen miles.”
David emerged from another shelter and trudged toward them, looking to be either half asleep or zombified by some unknown force. “Garrett, how you feeling?” he asked, yawning.
“Better. Thanks for the glow.” Garrett laughed.
“My pleasure.”
“Great. He feels good, you feel good – back to the topic at hand. Shouldn’t we wait until dark before we leave?” Lenny asked.
From around the corner of the shelter came a deep voice. “No. We aren’t waiting until dark.” Ed stepped into view, followed closely by Paul. The tower of a man stuffed a water filtering device into his pack and then slung it onto his shoulder. “We need to leave now.”
David’s mustache twitched. “Oh god! Why? Did you guys see something? Did you see a dragon? Is there a freaking dragon down by the lake?”
“Control yourself, kid. We didn’t see anything, but we don’t know how those dragons track or what abilities they might have. We need to keep some distance between us and them.”
Pete, Lenny, and David looked to Garrett.
“What are you looking at him for? Grab your gear and let’s move.”
“We are looking at him because he is the descendant,” Lenny said.
Ed rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever good that is. Let’s go,” he said, nodding toward Paul.
Paul hesitated.
“Jesus H., Paul, you too?”
“Ease up, Ed. We’re all on the same team here. Garrett, what do you want to do?” Paul asked.
Garrett pressed his lips into a tight line. He knew Ed hated him for letting Bre get taken. He also knew he hated himself even more. But that didn’t matter, what mattered was finding her. He turned to Ed. “You’re right. For all we know, they could be tracking us. I don’t want to sit here and wait to get caught. But we need to go west and try to stay close to cover. We need to get to the river before we go south. We’ve got to stay out of the open farmland altogether if possible, especially if we’re going to move during the daylight.”
“Well, great. Glad you approve. Now grab your rucks and let’s go,” Ed said.
“Ed, what’s your deal?” Paul asked.
“It’s fine, Paul.” Garrett picked up his pack.
“No. It isn’t fine. This isn’t you, Ed. The brother I know wouldn’t act like this. Do you think Bre would want you acting like this?”
“Don’t you say her name! You’re as much to blame as him,” Ed said, gesturing toward Garrett. “You let that freak take our sister!”
Paul threw his pack down and took a step closer to his brother. “You weren’t there, Ed. You had your ass laid up in a nice cushy hospital bed, remember? You have no idea what we went through!”
Ed dropped his own pack and stepped toe-to-toe with Paul and looked down. “I didn’t need to be there to know there are only two ways that should have gone down. You leaving with our sister or you dying trying to save her.”
Paul balled his fist.
“Enough! Both of you!” Garrett forced himself in between the two men. “What matters is what we do today and tomorrow!”
“Yeah, and what’s that? Taking orders from a kid? We’re adults. We’re military,” Ed said, nodding toward Paul. “I’ve traversed jungles and deserts all over the world. You guys,” he said, pointing around the circle, “you’re children. Have you ever even traveled anywhere, Garrett? Have any of you?”
“I went to Six Flags in Missouri,” David said.
Lenny slapped a hand over his face. “Please shut up, David.”
“That’s what I thought,” Ed said. “You said you want to go west because there is no cover to the south. Fine, Garrett, but once we get a few more clicks into unfamiliar territory, what then? I’m supposed to follow you? Well, that’s not happening.” Ed reached down and snatched his backpack and climbed onto his bike. “Now l
et’s go.”
Paul looked like he was about to blow up, but Garrett cut him off as he opened his mouth to speak. “It’s fine. Really, Paul, let’s just go.”
The boys retrieved their gear and bikes.
“God, we’re only thirteen miles into this trip and my ass bones already hurt,” David said with a wince as he eased himself down onto the seat.
“Can’t you just heal yourself?” Pete asked.
David’s eyebrows arched. “I don’t know. I never tried.”
“Well, don’t try now, dumbass, unless you want to fall on your face,” Lenny said.
“Screw you, Len— Wait a second.” David squinted past Lenny. “What the?”
Garrett followed David’s gaze across the prairie that opened up on the south side of the campground, which was void of trees. The prairie grasses were shorter in April, dotted with occasional shrubs, but without the wildflowers that would emerge later in the season.
On the opposite side, Garrett found what had caught David’s eye. Near the edge of the timber were several men dressed in camouflage. Some held rifles. A few held bows.
A shotgun racked and a man in a camo ball cap yelled, “You fellas aren’t going anywhere!”
As the man across the field leveled the gun, a sound like thunder rumbled far in the distance. Its pitch changed as it grew louder and, presumably, closer. Goose bumps pricked Garrett’s skin, and the hair stood up on the back of his neck. He knew there was only one thing that made this horrible sound. His mouth as dry as ash, he exhaled the word in a whispered rasp, “Dragon!”
5
Rats in a Maze
Monday, April 18 – God Stones Day 12
Petersburg, Illinois
Twenty minutes passed before the smoke cleared enough for Jack to descend into Undertown, and even then, he had to pull the collar of his tee shirt up over his nose. Dragon breath smelled like a combination of rotted ass and rotten eggs. As he waited, he searched through the wreckage of the dojo and found a long piece of two-by-four. Next, Jack stripped Roger of his jacket since he wouldn’t be needing it anymore and wrapped it around the end of the two-by-four, securing it by knotting the sleeves. He held the end in one of the small fires burning around the lip of the stairwell, and his makeshift torch ignited. Turning back to Goch and the others, he was just in time to see two of the smaller dragons pull Yogi’s corpse apart. Jack closed his eyes as a wave of nausea gripped his stomach. He swallowed back bile and announced, “I’m going down.”
“We can’t protect you once you go down there, little human,” Goch said.
Jack stepped onto the first step, ignoring his protesting stomach. Death was something he would have to get used to. “Do I look like I need protecting? Just… just don’t leave.”
“Suit yourself,” the dragon hissed. “But understand, you hold no dominion over me or mine.”
Goch had a strange accent that sounded foreign to Jack, and he didn’t really care for it. Thinking quickly, he replied, “Apep wouldn’t be happy if you left, and besides, you need me. I know what Garrett and the others look like. If they’re not down here, you’ll need me to help you find them.”
“Do not delay us,” Goch said, then turned to the younger dragons. “Search the town for food.” He swiveled back to lock eyes with Jack. “And practice your fire breathing.”
As the young dragons lifted from the street, Jack didn’t flinch and didn’t blink. Screw this town, let it all burn. He held the dragon’s eyes, nodded, and descended the stairs into Undertown.
At the bottom of the stairs, Jack paused, assessing the layout. The stone corridor was long and scorched black. Several doorways stood unobstructed, having burned away to ash, leaving only metal latches and hardware scattered on the floor. Jack held his torch forward, checking each smoldering room as he went along. Most of the small rooms had burnt out completely, and some had even collapsed where the wood support beams burned through. God, the place stunk like burnt flesh and hair. Deeper down the corridor, he understood why when he came across two bodies blackened to a crisp. Jack knelt down close. They were still whole enough to tell what they were… what they had been. That’s for you, Danny. Everything single one of ’em is for you.
Then he noticed something else. Jack stood and waved his torch from side to side. Something about the stone walls looked different in this spot. Thick lag bolts protruded from holes drilled in a row down both walls. He knew it then: a set of heavy framed doors must have closed off this hallway before being burned away by the dragon fire. The men hadn’t been trying to escape; they had escaped. These two had made it behind the door and tried to hold here while everyone else fled deeper. He looked back at the blackened remains of the two men. Fools, he thought. Maybe so, but the heavy wood door might have given whoever was down here the time they needed.
He moved on, deeper still, as his heart raced faster and faster. There was less damage in this section beyond the doorway. He found a cafeteria and some kind of assembly hall. Other than some deformed metal chairs, the heat had destroyed everything flammable. Yogi had said there was an entire city down here. So where was everyone?
Back in the corridor, Jack found it soon ended abruptly. Waving his torch forward, he saw several heaps still smoldering. More bodies were piled at a dead-end passage. He stepped over one, then around another, and realized this wasn’t a dead end at all. It was actually closed off by yet another set of doors. But unlike the wooden doors, this set of heavy steel doors had held. The half a dozen burnt bodies were people who just hadn’t been quick enough when their so-called friends shut them on the wrong side of the doors.
No! No, no, no, no. Jack balled his fists as rage filled him. He yanked on the handle, then punched the door, then yanked and punched again and again. After a moment the red cleared from his vision, and he stopped as an idea started to take shape. Would the ones trapped behind this door even know his intentions? Yogi and Roger sure as shit hadn’t spilled it. Dead men tell no tales, Danny.
“Please! Please, guys. Please let me in! Help! Help! There are freaking dragons out there. You gotta let me in! You just gotta! I ain’t foolin’, please!” Jack waited, pressing an ear to the door. Shit, maybe they were already gone? Maybe they were escaping out the back right now heading who knows—
“Who goes there?” a husky man’s voice shouted through the door.
Jack smiled. “It’s me. Jack Nightshade. Please sir, let me in.” Jack placed his palm on the door and did his best to sound like he was crying. “Please? Please help me!”
“Jack? Jack Nightshade?” the voice asked.
“Yes. Yes, sir. My mom is—”
“We know who your mom is, Jack,” came a familiar voice.
This voice was Garrett’s older brother, James. Inside his chest, Jack felt a small spark of anger combust into a rage he had to fight to contain. “Let me in, James,” he said through gritted teeth.
On the other side of the door, he heard James ordering everyone back. Jack’s own palm still lay flat against the warm steel of the door. He could feel some of them, the ones closest, and so he concentrated on them.
“Everyone, run!” came the order from the other side.
But it was too late for the ones Jack had grabbed hold of, and God, how he prayed one of them was James! Jack poured disease into them and as he did, he stole their lives. One died, then another and another. He felt the power drawing through the door and building inside himself.
From the other side came the screams of dying men. Jack’s fists shook with power, power he couldn’t contain, power he needed to release – had to release!
He shouted through the door, “I’m going to kill you all, James!” He punched a fist into the door and, to his surprise, it sank deep into the metal like a rock hitting water, the steel rippling away from it. He reared back and punched again and again, his fist sinking less each time until, by the fourth punch, pain shot up his arm.
Despite the fist-sized dents embedded several inches inward, the ste
el door held. He should have aimed his punches closer to the hinges, but there had been no time to plan. He’d had to let it go or… or he didn’t know what, but he’d had to let it go.
Once again, Jack reached out to the cratered door and laid his palm against the steel. He felt nothing. The ones he hadn’t killed were gone. He stood there for a long moment, catching his breath. A feeling struck him. If Yogi had been telling the truth, he was wasting precious time. Even if he could get through, if this place was as big as Yogi made it sound, there could be ten more doors like this one. Rats in a maze. But I ain’t gonna be no rat. He turned and walked back to the stairs.
Jack climbed up the stairs and back into the burnt-out karate place, where black plumes of smoke rose up to feed an already darkening sky. Apparently, the storm clouds announcing Jack’s arrival had finally settled over Petersburg while he had been down below. The wind picked up and a fat drop of rain landed on the back of Jack’s soot-covered hand.
On the bluffs of Petersburg, the old Victorian homes burned. Across the square, buildings burned. Jack’s school burned, the post office burned, and churches burned. The south and west sides of town burned. And as he spun in a slow circle, it was clear the north and east side burned as well. All around him was smoke and flame. Squinting his eyes, he looked toward his own home, one of many dotting the bluffs.
“Did you find the chosen one, little human?” Goch asked.
“Huh? What?” Jack said, blinking. His house might be burning too. Most of the bluff was. Heck, practically the whole town was. Jack sucked in a breath and exhaled, and with it he let go of every last shit he had to give for this place. There was nothing here for him. Garrett had taken it all away. Still, as he stared toward his house in curious detachment, he wished he could be sure.
“Did you find the chosen one?” Goch asked again, and this time he sounded annoyed.
Jack’s eyes focused as he looked up at the big red dragon. “What’s in Mexico?”
“None of your concern.”
“So, there is something there,” Jack said. “Well, Garrett isn’t in Undertown. It’s like Yogi said, he’s on his way to Mexico, to the place you don’t want to tell me about.”
