Dragon Gate

by Gary Jonas

  “I’m asking for your help,” Rayna said. “I can help you too.”

  “Rayna, I don’t know what to say. I think—”

  Esther popped into view beside me, startling me. “Kelly’s waking up!” she said and popped away.

  “What do you think?” Rayna asked.

  “Sorry, Esther just told me Kelly’s coming around.”

  We rushed into Kelly’s room.

  Brand still held her hand, but now he was on his feet. I rushed to the other side of the bed and took Kelly’s other hand in mine. She squeezed weakly. Her head moved slowly from side to side, but her eyes remained closed.

  “I’ll get Ophelia,” Rayna said.

  “Kelly, we’re all here for you,” I said.

  I saw tears in Brand’s eyes. “I love you,” he said. “I know I’m an asshole, and you don’t like me to say it out loud, but I want to make sure you know that I love you more than life.”

  Kelly opened her eyes. She looked weaker than a newborn kitten. She looked at Brand and tried to speak. We all leaned down to hear, and her voice came out as a broken whisper. “Don’t get sappy,” she said.

  Brand laughed and kissed her forehead. “I’ll get so sappy, you’ll be able to play Lionel Richie songs to get the saccharine taste out of your mouth.”

  Kelly looked over at me, blinked, and tried to smile.

  “I’m here,” I said.

  She managed a nod. “Always.”

  Ophelia entered the room. “Okay, guys, give me some room.”

  We stepped back and she took over, placing her hands on Kelly’s stomach. She closed her eyes and gently moved her hands over Kelly’s body.

  Kelly tried to say something, but I couldn’t make it out. “What did she say?” Brand asked.

  Esther grinned. “She said a little to the left.”

  “That means she felt the pressure.” Brand smiled and wiped tears from his eyes. “She’s going to be fine.”

  oOo

  We visited with Kelly for as long as Ophelia would allow, which turned out to be five or six minutes. Now that Kelly was out of the woods, Ophelia wanted to continue the healing. Ophelia was still hedging her bets on whether she would make a full recovery, but she was optimistic that Kelly would at least be able to improve to some degree.

  Out in the hall, I looked at Brand and Rayna. The relief seemed to take a major load off, but they still looked as if they could each use a week of solid sleep. I checked my phone for the time. It was nearly eleven.

  “I don’t know about you two,” I said, “but I’m famished. Can you face fast food? If so, I’ll run get some.”

  “I think I could eat now,” Brand said. “There’s an Arby’s over on Yosemite.”

  “Works for me,” I said.

  Rayna nodded. “A beef and cheddar does sound good right now.”

  “This from a personal trainer?” Brand asked.

  “I eat well six days a week,” she said. “The seventh, I eat whatever I want.”

  “I eat what I want whenever I want,” Brand said, “but that might have to change now that I’ll be in a position to gain weight. Being a regular person is gonna suck a thousand assholes for that very reason.”

  “Food will be here in no time,” I said.

  “Hurry back,” Brand said. “Now that you mentioned food, I’m starving.”

  I took the elevator to the lobby and approached the guard station. As usual, Phil was on duty.

  “Hey, Phil, I need a favor.”

  “They warned me you were in the building. I don’t do favors.”

  “This one will take fifteen minutes, and it pays more than fifty bucks.”

  “I have been known to occasionally accept a side job,” he said. “What do you need?”

  “I need someone to run over to Arby’s and get some food for Brand and Rayna on the thirteenth floor.”

  “Why can’t you do it?”

  “Because I have something to do.”

  Phil leaned back in his chair. “I’d have to get Joe to cover for me, and he and I are both bound to be hungry. It would be cheaper for you to delay whatever you have planned and bring back the sandwiches yourself.”

  “Don’t be a dick,” I said.

  “You want to get away without having to tell your friends you’re leaving. In my book, that makes you the dick.”

  I pulled out my wallet and tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. “That ought to cover it.”

  “What do they want?” Phil asked as he tucked the bill into his pocket.

  oOo

  I made a pit stop on the way back to Boulder. A friend of mine named Max is a bit of a survivalist. Okay, to be honest, he makes those doomsday preppers you see on TV seem sane.

  He lived outside Superior, and he had a bunker filled with so many weapons, he could supply a large army. I phoned him in advance, and he met me at the gravel drive that led to his house.

  “What’s up, Jonathan? Ain’t seen you in years!”

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” I said, climbing out of the Mercedes.

  “You must be banking these days.”

  “The car? It’s not mine. I’ve still got the Firebird.”

  “Well, we can catch up another time. I know this is a business call. You still carrying that stupid Beretta?”

  “Yeah, I like it.”

  “Dude, you need to update. Let me hook you up with a nice Glock 30S. Damn thing is perfect for concealed carry, and they slimmed down the slide. It’s nice: compact and accurate. Ten rounds in the mag plus one in the chamber.”

  “I’m actually here because I need a good submachine gun.”

  “I can hook you up with an HK MP5 today, m’man.”

  “That’s the one the Navy SEALs use, right?”

  “Fuckin’ A right, buddy. It’s the definitive submachine gun for special operations and counterterrorism units around the world. Delayed blowback, reliable, easy to maintain, safe. Well, provided you’re the one doing the shooting, of course. Fires from the closed-bolt position, so it’s big-time accurate.”

  “Hook me up, bro.”

  “Right this way,” he said and led me to his bunker. He unlocked it and we descended into the most extensive armory I’ve ever seen.

  On the walls, shelves, tables, and counters were more guns than I could count in a month, plenty of ammo stacked in crates, RPGs, you name it. I even saw a cannon tucked into the back behind three crates labeled Pancor Jackhammer. The bunker extended farther back too, but there was a gated entry with a sign that read, No Admittance—This Means You!

  Max moved a few things around then turned and smiled at me. “Here we go,” he said and held up a submachine gun. He handed it to me then gathered up a bunch of magazines.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “No sweat. I have more.”

  Looking around, I suspected he had at least three of everything.

  “Go on, take it outside.” He shoved me toward the stairs.

  I carried the gun up and waited for him to follow with the magazines, but he didn’t come up right away. I waited a few minutes then started back down the stairs.

  “Max? You okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right there.”

  He came back carrying a large box. The magazines for the MP5 were on top of it.

  “At the risk of sounding like Brad Pitt, what’s in the box?” I asked.

  “A bunch of Glocks.”

  “I’m fine with my Beretta. Really.”

  “What makes you think these are for you? I just don’t want to make another trip later this afternoon.”

  “Okay.”

  He grinned at me. “Some guys are coming out later to pick up some Glock 17s. They’re hooked on that TV show Justified, and the main character uses the 17, so I’ve been selling the living shit out of them the last few years.”

  He set the box on his porch, opened it, and pulled out a gun. He held it out to me.

  “You want me to be Raylan Givens now?”
/>   “Huh? No, man. This is the 30S I was telling you about. Try it. You’ll love it.”

  After some back-and-forth, he talked me into buying it. I suspect I overpaid, but then again, I didn’t have to deal with a waiting period. He’d have all the papers ready for me in a few days to make it all legit, but I knew I might not be alive in a few days, so I wasn’t worried about it.

  “You want a sound suppressor for the MP5?” he asked as he walked me back to the Mercedes.

  “No thanks. The loud noise might be beneficial.” I figured it would scare the Marshalls, and I needed every advantage I could get.

  “All right then, partner. Put ’er there,” he said and held out his hand. I shook it and he pulled me in closer to bump chests in a manly hug. “Lunch next week sometime?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Give me a call.”

  oOo

  Thirty minutes later, I found the castle Kelly mentioned. After parking off the road and out of sight, I did a quick surveillance. I easily spotted the various traps she told me about. As when she was here, there didn’t seem to be anyone home. I approached the building, the MP5 ready to go. I didn’t feel like a Navy SEAL, but there is definitely something to be said for carrying so much firepower.

  I entered the building through a window and cleared the place room by room. Nobody home upstairs or on the main level. That left the basement, where Kelly had first discovered the cages with the destroyers or bolons or whatever they wanted to call them.

  Descending the stairs, I kept the submachine gun ready. If any of those destroyers were out, I knew to aim for the eyes. There were two empty and open containers, no doubt the cages Kelly saw. In the back of the basement, I found two more of them. They were empty too.

  It made sense to assume they had the animals with them. I was pretty sure I could take out both of them with the MP5. I turned to head back to the staircase. For a moment, I thought I saw Esther, but it had to be my imagination because she was still back in Denver with Kelly, and if she were here, she’d let me know. I wondered if someone died here during the construction of the building. Ghosts weren’t common but I could see them when they were present.

  As I moved up the stairs, I heard the front door open, and all thoughts of ghosts vanished.

  “Shit,” I whispered and backed down the stairs as quietly as I could. There were some shadows in the corner. I didn’t think they’d conceal me, but they might take longer to spot me should they come down here. I got down on one knee, aiming the MP5 up the stairs.

  Listening to the footsteps above me, I knew there were at least three people inside now. I didn’t hear any telltale signs of claws clicking on the floor, so it was unlikely they had any of the animals with them.

  It made sense to wait to see if anyone else was coming in, so I remained quiet and ready. After ten minutes, there were no more footsteps and no sound of a door opening or closing.

  My heart thundered in my chest, so I concentrated and drew in several deep breaths to get things under control. I wanted the adrenaline, but I didn’t want any panic. Could I take out three guys? It depended on position, of course. It also depended on the element of surprise.

  I crept up the stairs, keeping to the sides and edges to minimize creaking. When I reached the door, I put my ear to the wood and strained to hear any movement or voices.

  Too bad Esther wasn’t with me. She could tell me who was there, where they were, whether they were armed, and if they were approaching. I should have brought her along, but I knew she wanted to be there for Kelly, and if I’d taken her, Brand would have known I wasn’t just going for food.

  Well, no time like the present. I twisted the doorknob and heard the soft click. Gently I inched it open and peeked through the crack. Nobody in sight. I pushed the door open a bit more and stuck my head out to peer around it.

  The coast was clear.

  I stepped into the kitchen, quietly closed the door behind myself, and using caution and stealth, moved to the doorway to sneak a peek.

  Two of the Marshalls sat Indian-style on the floor. Their eyes were closed. Were they meditating? That left at least one guy unaccounted for.

  The two men in sight had swords lying on the floor beside them in easy reach. Through the front window, I couldn’t see anyone outside. That didn’t mean they weren’t there, of course. They didn’t have cars. I didn’t see a wagon or horses or anything either.

  Finally, I heard a noise upstairs, a soft thump. There was no telling what caused it, but I figured it had to be the third man.

  Thoughts raced through my head. Should I try to capture these guys? Should I simply kill them? They certainly showed no mercy to Graham or his parents. They sent the destroyers after Rayna and nearly killed Kelly. Last month I’d have simply killed them. Today I wondered what Rayna would think of me if I did.

  Indecision can get you killed.

  I didn’t want to die.

  I also didn’t want to just shoot them in the back. Stupid? Maybe. Survival mattered but being able to sleep at night mattered too. I had no qualms about killing someone who was trying to kill me, but I preferred to do it face-to-face.

  Decision made, I stepped into sight.

  “Hey, you dickless wonders, am I interrupting a spiritual experience?”

  Neither man moved a muscle.

  “You guys alive?”

  Still nothing.

  With the submachine gun set to semiautomatic, I cautiously approached the men, tossing a glance toward the stairs in case thug number three came down.

  This could easily be a trap, but I didn’t feel I had much choice. I shoved the muzzle into the back of the first guy and pushed him forward. He bent a bit at the waist then tipped to the side and lay still. Now I got a better look at the other guy. His throat had been cut, and the front of his tunic was stained with blood.

  Both of them were dead.

  I spun to face the stairs. “Come on down,” I called. “It’s your turn to play on The Price Is Right.”

  “I trust you’re armed,” a familiar voice called.

  “Damn straight.”

  “Is that Jonathan Shade?”

  “Who’s up there?”

  “Just me,” the voice said. “Lucas. I’m coming down. I’m armed, but only with a dagger.”

  “Put it away before you come down.”

  “I’ll do no such thing. The rest of the Marshall Clan could be back any moment. But I promise not to kill you.”

  He had a dagger; I had a submachine gun. As he’d have to come down the stairs, turn the corner, and run at me, I figured I still had the upper hand. That said, it’s best to never underestimate someone with a knife even if you have a gun.

  “Come down slowly.”

  “That I can do.” I saw the feet first, sheathed in expensive shoes, then the legs clad in slacks. Lucas bent down to peer over the banister at me.

  “Lucas,” I said but didn’t lower my weapon.

  “In the flesh.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Stupid question, Jonathan.” He descended the remainder of the stairs but kept the bloody dagger in his right hand.

  “That’s far enough.”

  “We’re on the same side. We’re here for the same reason. To kill all of the surviving Marshalls. I’d have done it sooner, but that Detective Kramer took too much of my time yesterday.”

  “So you want revenge for Chantelle and Tess.”

  “That’s secondary. I want to protect myself and my sons.”

  “I forgot, women don’t mean much in your culture.”

  “They mean a lot to me, but they aren’t my first priority. Are you here alone?”

  I nodded.

  “Why didn’t you bring your Sekutar friends? Surely they’d have been happy to dispatch some of the Marshalls.”

  “They’re looking after Rayna.”

  “I heard about Graham. Shame, that.” He moved to the window and peeked out. “The others should be back any time.”

 
“Just so you know, they may have destroyers with them.”

  “Four bolons were brought through the Dragon Gate. I’m not particularly concerned about them, though.”

  “You should be.”

  He laughed. “I have something out there that eats bolons for breakfast. You’ll want to stay with me for the rest of this, Jonathan. She might see you as food too.”

  “What’s out there?”

  Lucas smiled. “My dragon, of course.”

  “You have Smaug here?”

  “Her name is Clara, actually, and unlike your Smaug, she’s real. She’ll eat any bolons they have with them. If we’re lucky, she might eat a few of the men too.”

  “One can hope,” I said. I couldn’t bring myself to trust him. He didn’t seem concerned that I still held the MP5 aimed at him.

  “You knocked Robert over,” Lucas said nodding toward the fallen Marshall. “I took the time to set him and Francis up special for Thomas. Think you can prop him back up?”

  It occurred to me that I’d heard at least three distinct sets of footsteps when Lucas entered, but if these guys were dead, that meant—

  A blade touched my neck. “Don’t twitch,” a man whispered.

  Another man stepped into sight and took the MP5 from me.

  “Jonathan Shade,” Lucas said, “I’d like you to meet my sons, Lucas Junior and Wesley.”

  “Should I kill him, Dad?” Wesley asked. Wesley was the guy with the knife at my throat.

  “That won’t be necessary. He’s here to kill the Marshalls too.”

  “But you don’t want me to give him back this gun, right?” Junior asked.

  “Of course not. You’ll want to search him too. I’m willing to bet he has at least one handgun on his person.”

  As it happened, I had two: my Beretta and the Glock. Junior took them both. Lucas’s sons looked to be eighteen or nineteen years old. That meant they were probably born here in Colorado and not in the other dimension. I wondered if Thomas would care where they were from. Probably not. If he hated Lucas, he’d want to kill everyone in the family regardless of birthplace.

  “You can have a seat on the floor, Jonathan. I’m happy to give you a front-row seat to the coming carnage. No offense but since you couldn’t protect Graham, I’d rather you sat this one out.”

  Wesley led me to the wall and let me sit down.