Fire in Her Eyes

by Ruby Dixon

  Benny makes a face. “Ew, really?”

  The kid’s too young to remember the early days of the After, I guess, or his sister Andi took such good care of him that he was never starving. Charlie and I split a can of dog food many a time and tried not to think too hard about what we were eating. “Scooter doesn’t mind a bit of mold,” is all I say.

  He extends his other hand and I clasp it in mine, then crouch to give Scooter a loving goodbye. I rub his silly face for so long that I almost change my mind, but then I force myself to stand up again. “I’ll be back in about a week.”

  “We’ll be here,” Benny jokes.

  TEVA

  A familiar scent touches the breeze.

  He’s leaving. The human. The one that smells so good. Curious, I fly in the direction of the wind and when I see the dark speck of him moving on the horizon, down one of the long human paths that crisscross the land, I settle in to watch him from afar.

  The human male is alone this time, which is curious. His animal isn’t with him. Did he finally break down and eat it? For some reason, that makes me sad.

  You should eat him, my belly fires say. He’d be tasty.

  I don’t want to eat him. He’s interesting. Maybe he could be a friend.

  You need no friends. He’s probably why you’re stuck here in this horrible place with the terrible smells.

  Oh. I do hate this place. I hate the stink of it, and the way the air feels on my wings, and the way everything—everything—makes my head hurt. I hate all of it and I want to go home.

  Kill him and maybe we can go home, my fires say.

  Maybe so. But I don’t attack just yet. I crouch and watch, my tail flicking.

  4

  GABE

  Teva’s following me.

  Of course she is. I haven’t been traveling for longer than a few hours when I saw her shadow in the distance, flitting through the clouds. I figured she would. I’m interesting to her for some reason, and she’s going to try and figure out what the hell I am or what I’m doing.

  I walk down the highway, past lines of abandoned cars, and test doors as I go. Every so often, one creaks open, which is good. Just in case Teva gets it in her mind to attack, I’ll have someplace to hide.

  Sort of. She could smash a car with one swing of her tail, or the thump of a foot. She could roast me alive inside it. But some protection beats none, so even when the road forks and it might be faster to go cross country, I stick to the highway and stay on the alert.

  Teva never approaches, though. She watches from afar, follows along, and never gets close enough for me to worry.

  I know she’s there, though. I can feel her thoughts. They simmer in the back of my head, a constant presence. I can feel her curiosity, and even though it’s sometimes spiked with anger, I never pick up that I’m in danger. Watched, yes. In danger, no.

  I sleep inside an old donut shop across the street from an empty gas station, and keep a hand on my gun, my back to the wall and my front to the door. Dragons aren’t the only problem in these lands. There’s raiders, outlaws, and most people will kill you for what you’re carrying rather than make a friend. My dreams are troubling—I wake up, gasping for breath, convinced that Teva’s tearing the roof off to get to me, but when I open my eyes, the building is whole.

  Even so, it sets me on edge. I don’t go back to sleep but pack up my things and head out. The sooner I get somewhere secure—truly secure—the better off I’ll be.

  It’s a few hours of travel before I hit my old stomping grounds. Teva’s distant, her thoughts a light trail of smoke in the back of my mind. I think she’s hunting. It’s weird that I can feel her thoughts more clearly now than inside the fort. It’s almost like we’re connected at some strange level, and for some reason, I’m less and less worried about her as time passes.

  She’s a problem, but I don’t think she wants to kill me. She wants to kill everyone else in the fort, sure. But me? Nah. There’s something about me that fascinates her, that gets through to the woman underneath, even if she’s lost to madness. I’m not entirely sure what it is about me that calls to her, but it is what it is.

  I head down a familiar street and then I see it — the parking garage that was my home for the last two years or so. Up until I met Andi and Liam and we headed into the plague-filled halls of New Fort, I lived on the bottom floor of the parking garage of an old shopping mall, along with Charlie, Lester, and Major, six cats, and Scooter. As homes go, it was kind of a shitty one, but it served its purpose in the After. It protected us from the worst of weather, from low-flying dragons and their fire, and it was cool enough in the heat of summer when there was no air conditioning.

  Kinda like now. I’m sweating and more than ready to get into the shade, but I’m no idiot. Someone could have moved in on our home and taken it over for themselves, and I need to check things out first. I circle the area, looking for signs of booby traps or warning signals, cans hung on a string, bells, anything that will make noise when tripped and alert that there’s an intruder. When I don’t see anything, I venture inside, my gun in hand.

  All is quiet.

  My footsteps echo on the concrete, and everything sounds deathly still. Even Teva’s thoughts have gone quiet. It feels deserted, which is a good thing, and yet somehow still jarring to see. For two years, this was home. I pass by the Porsche with four flat tires and graffiti all over it, the car we always joked we’d have wanted in the Before. I pass by the van we slept in the first few nights here before we set up camping tents. Then, I see the big metal drum we used for our fires, and the tents pitched around it as if we were just having a cozy evening out in the wilderness.

  Home.

  A loud, indignant meow echoes in the parking garage and a white cat with a dark mask comes trotting out from under a car to greet me. He immediately twines around my legs, purring and meowing, and I crouch to pet him. “Well, hello there, Professor Plum,” I murmur. “Charlie’s gonna be happy to see you.”

  The cat just rubs his face against my hand. He’s thin and dirty and pauses to scratch at fleas. Guilt tears at me. Charlie was right—the cats do need us. They’re just tamed enough to not know how to look after themselves anymore. As I pet Plum, Miss Scarlet—an orange and white dainty bit of fluff—comes out to join him and she’s in similarly rough shape.

  I sit down with the cats and pull out a can of food. It’s tuna, and I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. Was gonna be my next birthday, but these two look like they need it more. I crank the manual can opener and both cats immediately start meowing, and a third one trots out of the shadows to come out for food. That’d be Mrs. Peacock.

  The gang’s all here except for Colonel Mustard, Charlie’s favorite. Well, I’ll find him. It’s early yet. I open the can of tuna and dump it onto the concrete, and use my knife to spread it out a little. All three tear into it as if they haven’t eaten in weeks, and that just adds to my guilt. I pet their bony little bodies while they eat, and mentally go through the list of stores nearby. I’ve scouted this entire area and know it well. I know which stores still have some goods in them and which ones have been picked clean. I’m going to need a couple of things before I leave here, I think. Cat carriers are at the top of the list because there’s no way I’m going to try and carry four mangy cats in my arms for miles and miles down the highway. Pet food if there’s any to be found. Flea collars. I’ll need a flatbed or something along those lines to tote the cats, and since I’m going to be dragging a flatbed behind me, it’s going to be loud, noisy and slow. I’m gonna be a target for anyone in the area—dragons included—so I might as well load the thing with anything else the fort might need.

  Like tampons. Medicine.

  I pet Mrs. Peacock as she eats. “Lots to do, and just one person to do it. Story of my life.”

  But I don’t mind it. I’d rather have a purpose and be useful than do nothing at all.

  I wonder if Teva likes animals…

  Then I wonder why

I care.

  * * *

  It’s still early in the day, so I stash my gear in a hiding spot just in case someone wanders by, and then head out to go scavenging. Most of the buildings to the east of “home” are cleaned out, either by me or by scavengers from Fort Justice, which no longer exists. I head west instead, and it takes me a few hours before I see a promising chain store that might have just what I need. Ten minutes later, though, I’m back to the drawing board—it’s completely cleaned out. Luckily there’s a strip mall not too far away and I spot a bird nest-covered sign that promises pet supplies. The windows to the place are covered in filth so it’s impossible to see inside, and the glass door is locked. I throw a rock through, unlock it, and step in.

  A wave of stink hits me. Gagging, I immediately stagger back out of the store. It takes me a moment to recover, and when I try to go back inside again, this time I’m more prepared for the stench. I enter the dimly lit store, the only light trickling in from the open door behind me, and stare at the greenish-black rows of fish tanks. They smell putrid, and I’m guessing fish weren’t high on the list of things to evacuate back in the day. With a hand closed over my nose, I head down the aisles, looking for useful goods. The store’s been raided—somewhat—as there’s not much food to be found. My guess is that the employees stole what they could when the Rift first appeared, then locked up shop and headed out. I do manage to find a dusty case of cat food in the back, and I add that to my shopping cart full of carriers, collars, and blankets. I throw in a few squeaky toys for Scooter, because he’ll fuckin’ love them. Then, I make a final sweep of the store before heading to the exit.

  There’s a loud thump outside and a whoosh of air, and I stiffen.

  In the next moment, Teva’s thoughts blast through my mind. They’re hot and thick and feel so close that it’s like a slap in the face.

  I stagger briefly, then recover. The dragon’s nearby. Okay. I suspected she was following me, so this isn’t a huge surprise. Even so…I park the cart and creep forward slowly, toward the shop door that I left open. Somewhere outside, the dragon’s close. Her thoughts continue to boil through the air, her curiosity battling with the chaotic anger and hate. It’s something about the smell here—she hates it. It’s making her senses go haywire.

  “That makes two of us,” I murmur to myself, even as I park my cart and approach the front door quietly with my gun out. I only want to see how close nearby the dragon is, but when I look outside, I stare into an enormous, whirling gold-and-black eye.

  With a shout, I stagger backward and land on my ass.

  I can feel Teva’s panic the moment I yell, and then her thoughts shift from curious to furious. They boil over like lava, threatening my sanity, and I press a hand to my brow, trying to concentrate. I scared her, made a skittish dragon worse.

  “That’s my fault,” I say aloud, and then immediately feel stupid. It’s not as if she can hear me.

  But the dragon’s blistering thoughts go quiet.

  She did hear that.

  Fascinated, I get to my feet. I move slowly, heading toward the door again. I keep my thoughts calm—just in case she can hear mine, too—and peer outside. She’s even redder up close, her scales a brilliant crimson. I’ve seen Rast and Liam in their dragon forms, and both of them are powerful and terrifying. Teva’s equally so, but there’s a slender elegance to her neck and jaw, her body more lithe than the thick power of the golden dragons.

  Her head isn’t near the door. She’s pulled back, as if ready to strike, and somehow that’s worse.

  I raise a hand into the air the moment she spots me again. We’re so close that if she lets out even a hint of flame, I’m a goner. I can stay here and hope for the best…or I can try something. I steel myself and speak aloud, keeping my voice calm. “Hello, Teva.”

  The dragon’s eyes flood with gold, and I get a shot of pure pleasure through my thoughts. It fades quickly, but I didn’t miss it.

  “You know your name, Teva?” I keep my voice smooth and pleasant, and I make sure to use her name repeatedly. “I think you do, Teva. I think you want a friend and you don’t want to kill me, do you, Teva?”

  It feels strange to be talking to a dragon—I’ve seen them kill hundreds of people in one swoop. But having our thoughts connected changes things. Knowing Liam and Rast and knowing that they’re people under the madness instead of just vicious monsters makes a difference, too. I can’t just look at a dragon and think of it as a great big sky-shark that breathes fire and eats people.

  I mean, they still do, but Teva’s a person somewhere deep under there. She has a name. She might be just a kid like Benny or Katrina. And that makes me soften. Makes me want to help her somehow. She’s a person under there, looking for answers. I know how that goes.

  “Teva,” I say again, my voice as pleasant as I can make it. “Long time no see.”

  Her thoughts grow calm. Fascinated at the even tone of my voice.

  I speak again. “I’m just visiting this shop. I want to leave and—”

  The dragon’s thoughts change on a dime. I can feel them shift, and I stagger backward, even as she lets out a sizzling whip of fire that scorches the broken door and sends a wall of heat blistering my face.

  All right, not that way. I get my cart of goods, slowly ease back from the doors, and wait.

  After a few minutes of waiting, the dragon’s thoughts flare again and she takes off. At first I think she’s going to move around to the back of the building and try to ambush me, but she just…flies away as if she forgot I was here.

  Strange.

  It dawns on me a few minutes later as I continue to crouch by my basket of goods, waiting to see if she returns. She left because she can’t smell me. I think of all the scent tricks people have used to fool dragons in the past. Of course. It makes sense. I look at the back wall, where all the godawful fish tanks are lined up. That stink has to be covering everything…and hell. Surely I’m not going to have to slop that garbage on me to keep her distracted?

  I groan at the thought.

  5

  TEVA

  He knows my name.

  The realization sings through me even as I fly away. He knows who I am. Someone out there remembers me. I exist to them.

  Who knows? My belly fires demand. Who remembers?

  My mate, I tell them happily.

  You have no mate. You only have me.

  I…do? Suddenly, I am confused. I lift my nose to the breeze, trying to scent my mate—surely he would smell irresistible, would he not? But there is nothing in the air but stink.

  Oh.

  I don’t have a mate?

  You have no mate. No male can conquer you.

  Oh. Well, I like that, too. I preen even as I fly through the air, and the scent of fresh prey catches on the wind. I automatically turn in that direction, heading for the four-legged animals with the chewy hooves and antlers. I am strongest. I am fiercest. I have no mate.

  I am no one and nothing.

  It is all so confusing.

  GABE

  I’m never gonna get that goddamn stink out of my clothes.

  I can still smell it, hours later, and the thought makes my gorge rise. Even after rinsing my clothes in a runoff stream and spritzing them with a much-appreciated fabric refresher, that grimy, disgusting fish sludge still feels as if it’s in my pores.

  The cats don’t seem to mind, though. They excitedly come out to greet me when I return, purring and wrapping themselves around my legs in the hopes of more food. I’m a soft touch, because that shit works on me. I open three cans for the three cats and watch the shadows for the fourth, but there’s no sign of Colonel Mustard. He’s the biggest of the cats, a buff-colored Maine Coon, but he’s always been skittish. I thought I caught a glimpse of his tail disappearing under one of the cars earlier, but he’s not coming out for food.

  “We’ll give it a few days,” I tell the cats as they eat. I lie down on the concrete, listening to the crackle of the fire I built in the barrel and thinking about Teva.

  Teva, Teva, Teva.

  I have to help her.

  I can’t stop thinking about the dragon. Her thoughts have been coming in, clearer and clearer, and I wish Benny was here so I could ask him if he feels the same, or if it’s just me that’s picking up her thoughts like this. There’s no doubt that she’s completely wild. Her thoughts race back and forth as uncontrollably as the breeze…and yet there was a real moment of clarity there.

  She knew her name. And just like I suspected, she recognizes me.

  I think of Amy and Rast, and how the dragon was completely lost until Amy connected with him. I think of Liam and how he seemed utterly normal—a good guy, really—until he shifted forms, and then he went insane until Andi hunted him down and forced him back to reality.

  I know how they did it, too. The girls “mate” with the dragon—something I don’t like to think too hard about—and through that act, some sort of bond is created. Since there’s no way anything dragon-sized would fit into petite Amy, I assume that the dragon-guy shifts forms before he takes her as his, which would make sense.

  We had a moment when I talked to her. She heard my voice and calmed. Listened to me. It didn’t last very long, but it was there. So I need to create a bond with Teva. I can help her. If she’s a person just like Rast and Liam, she’s lost and needs help. I feel obligated to try. She’s fascinated with me, right? It should be me that pulls her out of the abyss and back into the world. I’m not attracted to her—she’s a goddamn dragon—but I still feel like I’m responsible.

  Even so…I think about the appalling things that Amy told me about female dragons.

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