Tears of a Dragon

by Bryan Davis

  A bird chirp pricked Walter’s ear. Pushing to a sitting position, he twisted his neck and scratched his head. Where was he? Why did his body ache so badly?

  The first rays of dawn filtered through the tree branches and cast a soft glow on the lake’s rippled surface. Walter slammed his hand on the ground. “How long did I sleep?” He jumped to his feet, groaning at the pain in his stiff legs. Quickly scanning the area, he trudged toward the wreckage. It was cooler now, but smoke still curled from the half-buried engine.

  He searched the ground for footprints, finding nothing until he moved to a grassy area where two impressions dug deeply into the soft turf. Not far away, he spotted two more divots and a single handprint. He crouched to pick up a broken stick and mentally traced a line from the divots to the stick, then extended the line and continued searching in that direction. After several steps, he found another stick, then a third.

  The trail of clues ended at a gravel path, certainly easy enough to follow, but he couldn’t just traipse right up to wherever the bad guys were holding Ashley. They’d see him from a mile away. He ducked into the woods that lined the trail and scampered from tree to tree, pausing at each to peer ahead and listen.

  The gravel path widened into a blacktopped road that led to a building in the distance. Walter continued his stealthy approach, and when he sneaked to within a hundred feet of the wood-framed structure, he crouched behind a broad evergreen tree. A sign on the wall read, “Deep Creek Lake Discovery Center.”

  He spotted a parking lot on a hill on the opposite side. Was he approaching the back of the building? Would anyone be watching this path from the lake? He sprinted to the building and flattened his body against a wall, then peeked around the corner. An ugly creature with red wings opened a set of glass double doors. He jerked his head back. “That ain’t Bonnie,” he whispered.

  Chapter 14

  SEEKING THE LOST

  Walter edged along the wall toward the demon-guarded door, staying as flat against the siding as possible. He had spotted a closer, unguarded glass door during his sprint toward the building. What he wouldn’t give to get a peek in there, but a stone column stood in his way.

  Dropping to his belly, he crawled on the wooden deck inch by inch. One of those Watcher creeps might walk or fly by at any second, but, even though the slightest movement could give him away, he had to risk it. He could have pretended to be a visitor to the center and acted as if he didn’t know it had been closed down for the flood, but the Watchers had seen him in the seventh circle. They weren’t likely to be dumb enough to forget him.

  Just as he rounded the column, the sound of flapping wings filtered through the breeze. He jerked his head up, then froze in place, his palms flat on the deck. A Watcher glided down to the entry door, and a second one joined him. They seemed to be conversing with the red-winged demon he had seen earlier, but the few words he could hear sounded more like Klingon than English.

  With the Watchers occupied, Walter continued his crawl until he reached an alcove created by two columns framing the nearer door. Still sore and stiff, he sat up with his back against the stone and waited for his heart to stop pounding.

  After glancing at the demons, he rose to his haunches and peered through the glass. Venetian blinds hung over the inside, so he tipped his head and peeked between the slats. Something moved on the near side of a table. A female shuffled sideways to another table, her back toward him and her shoulders sagging.

  Walter jerked back and squatted low. Ashley! He searched the skies, then the ground between him and the conversing demons. The coast seemed clear enough. He tapped the glass three times and peered in again. Ashley held a metal cylinder up to her eye, but she didn’t look his way.

  As he poised his knuckles over the window, a stream of blackness splashed across his eyes. “Arrrg!” Walter clawed at his face, but the stuff adhered to his skin as if it had octopus suckers. Like hot tar, it oozed down his cheeks and neck, feeling more like a hundred crawling legs than dripping liquid. He felt trapped. Lost. Back out on the water without his crate to keep him afloat.

  Something grabbed him by each arm and yanked him to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

  Walter spat through the spreading goop. “I was—” He grimaced at the bitter taste. “I wanted to buy a souvenir at the visitor center, but some scary creatures were guarding the door, so I was trying to signal that girl inside.”

  “There are signs on every road. Didn’t you know the place was closed?”

  The icky stuff spread to Walter’s lower torso and squeezed like a tight vest. Every second seemed to drain away his usual courage. “No. I came in on a boat.” He had to gasp to catch his breath. “I didn’t see any signs.”

  The voice spoke a strange word that sounded like a command. The goo released him, running down his body and slithering to the ground like an army of black worms. The mass of black streamed toward a pair of bare feet, crawled up a leg, and disappeared under a white robe.

  Walter’s gaze followed it upward until he was face-to-face with one of the Watchers. The demon’s huge hand shot forward, grabbed the front of Walter’s jacket, and lifted him into the air. “I know you!” it growled. “You were in the circles.”

  Walter swallowed, trying to keep calm, but his dangling legs trembled. Shivers spread throughout his body, but he felt his moxie slowly returning. “Yeah. I helped set you free, remember?”

  The Watcher threw Walter back to the deck, rapping his head against the stone column. The crack on his skull sent a shock wave down his spine. As a black aura swept across his vision, he took in long, slow breaths, trying not to faint. Desperate thoughts swirled through his brain. “Have . . . to . . . save Mom . . . and Ashley,” but he didn’t know for sure if the words really escaped from his lips. His body crumpled to the cold, wooden planks.

  Carl pulled his SUV into a lot next to the park’s headquarters and turned off the engine. He twisted around in the driver’s chair, his eyes wide and glistening. “It’s time for courage, ladies.” He nodded toward the professor sitting on the passenger’s side. “Prof and I would charge in, but we would only succeed in getting ourselves killed. So, here’s the plan. Ashley sent a message about a discovery center, and the only one we could find on the map is less than half a mile away. I saw a lot of trees between here and there, so sneaking up to it shouldn’t be a problem. Marilyn, you’ll take Shiloh and Karen into the building and look for Ashley, just like we planned earlier.”

  Karen turned down the volume on the laptop, silencing a recording of Ashley’s chattering teeth. “When will the dragons show up? They don’t know about the visitor center.”

  The professor opened his door and gazed toward the sky. “They left from the south side of the lake shortly after we did, so they should be closing in on this section. I think we can count on Thigocia to locate Ashley.”

  “And when the dragons arrive,” Carl said, “the Watchers will probably fly out to battle them. Of course, they will expect us to try to rescue their prisoners, so Professor and I will pretend to be the rescuers. That will be the ladies’ cue to sneak into the center and look for Catherine and the girls.”

  “And Walter,” Karen added.

  “Right. He might be a prisoner, too.”

  The professor pointed toward the lake. “I see something.”

  “Yep,” Shiloh said. “The dragons are coming.”

  Carl opened his door, but hesitated. “Professor, would you please pray for us all?”

  “My pleasure.” After everyone bowed their heads, the professor lifted his voice, his British accent sounding more refined than sterling silver. “Our gracious and powerful heavenly father, we call on you now in our desperate time of need. We are faced with the most terrifying danger we can possibly imagine, demonic forces who influenced mankind to commit myriad abominations, leading you to destroy this world with a flood so long ago. Yet, even that flood reminds us that you are the one who holds sway over the waters, who commands mounta
ins and trees to uproot and be moved, and who keeps us safe in the palm of your mighty hand. Go before us now, we pray. Prepare the battlefield for us. Confound our enemies. Make straight the path of a conquering deliverer, whether he be armed with scales, human flesh, or the power of the Spirit. And we will give you all the glory for the great victory, whether we live or die, in the name of Jesus our Lord. Amen.”

  Carl squared his shoulders. “Marilyn, are you ready?”

  Marilyn displayed a cylindrical bottle and a roll of clear tape. “Ready. I have a few surprises for Uncle Screwtape and company.”

  “A lynch mob?” Bonnie said. “Do you think they’d go that far?”

  “You heard her in the bookstore.” Billy laid their old clothes on the walk. “And I’ve been wondering about this whole dragon savior deal.” He turned away from Bonnie and kicked at a pile of sand. “I’m starting to think—” he swallowed, trying to keep his voice in check—“that I’m really supposed to . . .”

  “Die?”

  Billy watched a dark cloud as it passed in front of the sun. It seemed warmer today, and the cloud covered the town with a welcome shadow. He unfastened the bottom button on his vest. “I’m trying not to think about it. I’m doing all this by the seat of my pants. I guess I’ll just face up to whatever happens.”

  She picked at a collection of lint on his sleeve. “Are you afraid to die?”

  “I . . . I’m really not sure.” He watched her fingers, soft and loving as they pecked away at the white dots. “Are you going to try to talk me out of it?”

  Bonnie pinched the last dot. “No, Billy.” She sat down on the edge of the raised sidewalk and patted the spot next to her. “I know time’s running short, but we have to talk.”

  Billy sat by her side, trembling a bit. She propped her feet on the walk and pulled her knees up to her chest, spreading the hem of her dress over her ankles. A breeze played with her hair, blowing wisps around her glowing face and delicate neck. She pursed her lips and swallowed, the dress’s high neckline moving in and out with her throat. White lace trimmed a line of dainty buttons all the way down to her veiled feet. Lace also adorned her wrists like bracelets of baby’s breath. Billy’s heart thrummed. Her startling beauty nearly took his breath away.

  “Billy,” Bonnie began, her eyes imploring. “Don’t be afraid to die. I know after all the awful places you’ve had to go, it’s hard to imagine how good heaven can be, but I’ve seen it, and no words can describe it.” She waved her hand toward the cobblestone road in front of them. “Saying that the streets are made of gold would insult the streets of heaven and give gold too much credit. An angel led me down one of the streets . . .” Her eyes grew wider. “Such a beautiful creature! We’ve seen the Watchers, and they can make themselves lovely of form and face, but when you see a true angel of God, you’ll know that the demons are sick, grotesque forgeries of the real thing. They are to the real angels what a toddler’s dough molds are to a Michelangelo masterpiece.

  “And remember that twisted tree in the first circle, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil? Well, I saw the tree of life. Oh, Billy! The fruit was so big, a family took one piece and carved it like a turkey! When everyone had eaten their fill, there seemed to be just as much left over as when they started! I wanted to try a bite, but the angel who led me down the streets told me to wait. He said once I tasted of heaven, I could never go back to earth, because food on earth would forever taste like dust, and I would wither away pining for the fruit of paradise. It was then I knew that God planned for me to come back to this place of misery. It felt like someone pricked a hole in my skin and vacuumed out all the joy. How could I leave such a glorious life, a paradise of faithful saints?”

  She clutched Billy’s sleeve, her eyes widening even more as though she could still see the glory. “Look! There’s Moses gazing upon the stone tablets with awestruck wonder, even after all these centuries. And there’s Paul, welcoming a believer into heaven, overjoyed that his ancient epistles filled a longing in another lost soul’s heart and led her to the savior.” Bonnie’s voice quaked. “And then . . . I saw him. . . . And he saw me. . . . He took me . . .” She swallowed and wrapped her arms around herself. “He took me in his arms and hugged me so tight, I felt . . . I felt . . .” She drooped her head and sighed. When she finally looked up again, tears streamed down her face. “It’s worth it all, Billy. We’ve both lost a parent, we’ve been beaten and bruised, and we’ve gone through hell together. I even died. And I can tell you . . . giving up everything to serve God is worth it all.”

  Moisture filled Billy’s eyes. Bonnie, his angel from above, had given him a glimpse of heaven.

  “Like I said,” Bonnie continued, “I’m not trying to talk you out of it.” She wiped away the stream of tears. “I’m trying to give you strength to do whatever you need to do, whether you live or die. If you have to die—” She bit her lip, and her voice rose an octave—“I’ll miss you . . . but I will never . . . never . . . doubt God’s will.” She grasped his shoulder, her strength seeming to radiate into his skin. “You’re just the man to do his will, Billy. I know you can do whatever God calls you to do.”

  Billy’s heart swelled with strength. He sat up straighter and inched forward in his seat, ready to jump into action. He gazed at Bonnie, soaking in her faith and zeal, watching her tears of sincerity track down her lovely cheeks. He caught one of the tears on his finger, and the drop of warmth seemed to strengthen him even further. Words spilled into his mind. Eloquence borrowed from Bonnie? Maybe. But no matter what it was, the words were just too beautiful to keep to himself. “Remember when we were running away from the slayer and you covered me with your wings to keep me warm?”

  “I remember. It seems like ages ago.”

  “Do you remember what I said to you?”

  She nodded, her voice trembling. “Forever and ever, Bonnie, I will always be your friend.”

  “I was trying to encourage you.” He reached for the pile of clothes and pulled a folded sheet of paper from his cargo pants pocket. “But you’re the one who made me strong.” He opened it slowly, displaying a portrait of Bonnie, her wings spread behind her and Excalibur in her extended hands, a miniature of a larger portrait he had drawn months ago. “Wherever I go, I carry this symbol of how you delivered the sword to me—I mean, the real sword, the truth.”

  Bonnie’s hand flew to her mouth. A new tear trickled down her cheek.

  Billy folded the paper and returned it to his cargo pants. “And now you covered me again, but with words instead of wings. I couldn’t feel more protected if I was wearing a suit of armor.”

  Bonnie placed a hand on Billy’s cheek. When she withdrew it, Billy continued. “Without you, I would be lost forever. My father never taught me about faith. The professor couldn’t give me his. But you showed faith to me. You lived it.” He laid his palm against his chest. “Because of your friendship, this squire has become a knight.”

  Bonnie’s eyes sparkled. “A knight in shining armor.” She hugged him briefly, then pulled away.

  “Speaking of armor—” Billy picked up the pile of clothes and rose to his feet—“I’d feel better if I had my old clothes on.” He extended his hand. “How about you?”

  Bonnie grasped Billy’s hand and pulled herself up. “Probably more practical, that’s for sure.”

  They hustled into the seamstress shop and changed back into their clothes, then hurried toward the center of town. “First stop,” Bonnie said, holding out her palm, “the bookstore.”

  “Right.” Billy handed her the ring. “Let’s hope Jasmine’s not there.”

  The tall statue of Captain Autarkeia guided them as they waded through the thickening crowd—men carrying picnic baskets, ladies scurrying around looking for a place to spread a blanket, and various peddlers pushing wheeled carts that boasted steaming hot dogs, buttery-smelling popcorn, dark bottles of bubbling brew, and billowing plumes of cotton candy on long paper tubes. The townspeople congregated in the square,
many of them already sitting on blankets and nibbling on treats, excitement spilling out in buzzing chatter.

  Billy halted, waiting for a caravan of street peddlers to pass. “Think there’ll be a speaker who’ll start the festivities?” he asked Bonnie.

  “The article said the mayor would speak at two, after everyone’s had a chance to eat.”

  Billy glanced up at the clock. “Twenty minutes.” As his gaze returned to the street, he spotted the constable circling around the statue, scanning the crowd from the elevated center island. Billy turned Bonnie around. “Don’t let him see you.”

  “Who? The constable?”

  “Yeah. I think he’s looking for us. Let’s get to the bookstore while we have the chance.” He hesitated. “But we can’t afford to both get waylaid. Let’s go one at a time.”

  Billy strolled through the square with Bonnie trailing several yards behind. When he reached the door, he opened it quickly and ducked inside. Two people stood in front of the sales counter. Billy froze.

  Sarah and Jasmine both turned his way. “Aha!” Jasmine said, smiling. “Here you are. Where’s your—”

  Bonnie opened the door and stepped inside next to Billy.

  “How convenient,” Jasmine continued. “Right on cue.”

  Sarah waved a finger at Jasmine. “Don’t you dare touch them. They know nothing about oracles of fire or any of your prophecies. They’re just children.”

  “But they wear the white gems,” Jasmine said as she approached Bonnie. “They must be the two oracles.”

  Billy stepped in front of Jasmine and showed her his hand. “We got rid of them. Are you happy now?” Bonnie also lifted her hand, showing her empty fingers.