Tara said, “Well, that’s some wishful thinking right there. What if the mufucker gets shot and dies while he is trying to pull off this super heist? Did you ever think about that?”
Whitney gave Tara a dirty look. “Are you going to do anything but complain and act like a baby? It’s your fault you were thrown in the water by the way, screaming like a little girl.”
“Fuck you for dragging me into this. I stuck my neck out to help you and you cut it,” Tara said.
“Whatever then, maybe we shouldn’t be friends,” Whitney responded.
Tara said, “We aren’t friends anymore. When you came in here you barely looked at me so you could ogle your husband…”
Whitney cut her off. “Well excuse the hell out of me for looking at the man I love. At least I have someone I love and don’t keep playing games with other people.”
“Ladies, ladies…” Trent’s attempt to calm the situation was cut off.
Tara yelled, “No, you were basically just a virgin until last year. Have you told your lover boy that yet?”
Whitney couldn’t believe her friend would cross the line like that. “You…you bitch. How dare you? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Her friend sounded stunned. “Tara. Remember? The person that you dragged into this mess. The one that can kick the shit outta you if it came down to it.”
The anger slithered around Whitney’s chest as she was ready to explode. “You wish you could kick my ass. I would crush you in a second.”
Tara retorted, “Yeah with those puny little arms. It would be like me going to a daycare center and beating up one of the babies.”
A different heat started to build in her midsection as Whitney ruminated over the conversation. “I’m glad we got this out of the way. They say tough situations really reveal one’s character. I guess it’s true. You had to put up with one little part of this whole thing.”
Tara interrupted, “One little part. You got me fucking kidnapped and thrown into some crazy world. One little part.”
Whitney fumed. “Think about all the things I’ve had to deal with. Do you ever stop thinking about yourself for a second? While I was fighting for my life, you were having sex my friend. Talk about friendship now.”
Tara said, “You think getting me killed is anywhere close to having sex while we waited for you, then you must be a lot dumber than I thought.”
Her comments stoked the growing fire inside Whitney and the heat started to reach all her extremities as her fingers tingled. The temperature kept rising and Whitney looked down at her right arm.
The skin on her right arm began to shift and move and was replaced by a silver reptilian covering. The ropes around her arm frayed and exploded. She could feel her body expanding and the wing started to extend from her right arm.
13
The thick yellow rope around her legs and body creaked and frayed before busting apart as a silver-skinned beast started to take shape. Her two golden horns poked up into the rafters and she tried to lean forward to fit in the room.
With bug eyes and dropping jaws, Tara and Trent stared in awe as Whitney kept growing into a dragon.
Whitney had to lie on her tender stomach to fit in the room. She extended her wing and shattered the glass windows and broken bits rained down over thirty stories and landed on the street below. Her friends still gazed at her in amazement.
She leaned her head over toward Trent and worked her long neck around to the back of the chair. She nibbled on the ropes until she got a feel for the distance. She clamped down with her razor-sharp teeth and sawed right through the wraps. Trent wiggled around and the ropes came off as he stood up and threw them aside.
Whitney worked her head over to Tara’s chair and helped to get the ropes off. The two still stared in awe at the newly formed dragon.
Whitney broke the stunned silence. “Trent, I’m going to move over by the window. You two need to get on my back. You know where to grab onto and you can show Tara. I’ll just roll out the window and then we can fly out of the city.”
Trent said, “If you say so.”
Whitney wiggled on her sensitive belly over to the ledge of the thirty-first floor and made the mistake of looking down. Her heart skipped a beat as she had never liked heights. Trent climbed up on her back.
He said, “Alright, Tara, you need to get up here and grab right under this scale here. And hold on tight.”
The door to the room sprang open and two men ran in shouting. They aimed their weapons. Whitney opened her mouth and greeted the men with a fury of flames, fully engulfing both. The primal screams of the men haunted Whitney’s ears as she watched their skin melt off the bones like candle wax dripping to the flaming floor. She didn’t know if this was real or not, but she had never wanted to kill anyone.
Another man ran into the smoky room and Whitney opened her mouth.
She couldn’t bring herself to set this man ablaze. She thought about whether he had a wife or kids.
The armored man raised his rifle and started shooting. Whitney’s hand had been forced and she let another inferno fly from her open mouth.
Trent screamed, “We can go now. We’re both ready.”
Whitney felt a tremendous pain in her left wing as she rolled off the ledge of the building and started a tremendous free fall. She saw the gray clouds and sky and flipped around and spread her wings.
She was moving her shoulders and torso like she had always done, but her wings weren’t working, only the right one was.
They continued to drop like a rock and Whitney panicked as they crossed the fifteenth floor and picked up speed. She extended her right wing further out and leaned to that side. She slowed the out-of-control descent and used all her strength to extend the left wing further out.
Tear-shaped drops of dark scarlet blood fell from the wounded wing. She caught enough wind resistance to stop the fall and start gliding forward, above a road and in between all the buildings. They soared about fifteen feet over the concrete surface and rose as Whitney navigated through the damaged city.
The excruciating pain screamed at her to stop putting pressure on the wounds and land, but she forged ahead. A shaft of golden sunlight sneaked in between two skyscrapers and the silver dragon shimmered in the rays. Whitney tried to maintain complete concentration because she had to remember where the telepad was and fly through an unknown city and fight off the pain from three gunshot wounds. No big deal.
She wanted to do what any normal person would; cry, curl up into a ball and give up. That would have been the easiest thing to do. She fought away the overwhelming urge to give up and found a street that she recognized faintly. The telepad should be only about a minute away.
A thundering hail of gunshots rang out, breaking the city’s silence. The echoing sounds reverberated off the busted buildings. A smattering of bullets ricocheted off Whitney’s silver scales that sounded like they were crafted of steel. The bright silver sparks flickered and died as Whitney turned right down a side street.
She quickly veered back to a street on the left so that she wouldn’t get lost while also staying out of the line of gunfire. She rose quickly over the smaller brick buildings on the outer edge of the city and closed in on the area where the telepad should have been. Every muscle in her body ached and she clenched her jaw, expecting this to be the home stretch.
She glided to the area where the pad had been, but it was gone. Straight ahead, Robbie was sprinting away with the vinyl record-sized telepad under his arm.
“Light his ass up, Whit,” Trent suggested.
Whitney couldn’t bring herself to kill a boy who seemed to be getting played by the kidnapper. They quickly closed in on Robbie. Whitney landed on the ground and collapsed.
Trent ran after Robbie and Tara checked on Whitney.
Tara said, “Are you alright? I’m so sorry I said all that shit. I was just jealous. You know I love you, right?”
“Back up for a second,” Whitney told her.
&
nbsp; Tara put her hands up. “OK, I’m sorry. I’ll back up now.”
Whitney felt the cascade of icy liquid pumping through her veins, quelling the fire. She started shrinking in size and her wings reverted to human arms, one of which was bleeding heavily. The reptilian skin disappeared and her tanned flesh returned.
Tara ran back to help Whitney, who was writhing in pain on the ground. Whitney had received two grazing wounds on her bicep and wrist and had suffered a direct hit to the forearm. Her breathing and heartbeat were erratic. Colorful visions floated in front of her eyes.
Trent ran back over with bloody right knuckles clutching the telepad. He slapped the round metal device on the ground and put one foot on it.
He said, “Let’s go.” Trent realized his wife had been injured and rushed over to her. “Are you alright, baby?”
Whitney’s eyes started to roll back into her head, when a series of gunshots erupted. Tara and Trent dragged Whitney over to the pad. Tara put her hand on the circle and Trent took Whitney’s hand and placed it on the object. Bullets whizzed by their heads and Trent put his palm down. Tara hastily slapped the red button.
Silence. An ocean of calm.
Then, without warning, Whitney felt a tremendous headache coming on, centered behind her eyes. She couldn’t feel her left arm as her eyes fluttered open. She looked down at her hand grasping the comatose Robbie’s forearm in the school in Dankstone.
Finger by finger, Whitney slowly relinquished her grip on the boy’s arm. A surge of energy bounced around the inside of her chest cavity. Whitney waited for Trent and Tara. They both looked like bodies at an open casket viewing and weren’t breathing.
Suddenly, Trent’s flesh changed from white to pale yellow to the golden honeymoon tan, which made Whitney smile. Tara’s face began to reclaim its original flesh color, which surged down over her entire body.
Whitney ran over and hugged her husband. He pulled her in for a kiss and she momentarily forgot about the tremendous pain in her head and arm.
He looked at her gushing wound with concern on his face. He said, “Let’s get out of here.”
Tara opened the door to the room and a loud alarm went off. The three ran down the steps and made it outside the building.
“Wait.” Whitney stopped.
Trent asked, “Why?”
“We can’t leave Robbie like this.”
Tara said, “Yes. Yes, we can. We can get the hell out of here and tell the cops where his ass is. I’m not staying round here no more.”
“I can’t explain it, but I know if we leave him here something bad is going to happen to him. I can just feel it.”
Trent argued, “Who cares anyway? The little kid’s a prick.”
Whitney winced in pain as she tried to keep pressure on the wound. “He’s a kid, which means he has…ow, ow, ow…he has parents. He’s being used by this maniac for personal enjoyment and it needs to stop. I’ll stay here with him if you two want to run for help.”
Trent said, “Whitney, you’ve been shot in the arm.” Trent sprinted into the school.
He emerged from the front door in less than a minute with several white cloths and towels. He ripped a few in smaller strips and started to address Whitney’s wounds. He tried to be delicate as Whitney grunted and groaned. He got most of the bleeding to slow if not stop.
Trent looked down at her. “We can’t leave you here. I’ll stay.”
“No. Me and Tara won’t be able to find our way out. I’m kind of delirious right now and she is terrible with directions, no offense.”
Trent and Tara helped Whitney to her feet. Tara said, “None taken. Look, we gotta figure this out now and make a move.”
Trent said, “Well, I don’t really know where I am going either, but are you sure you want to do this?”
Whitney tried to smile through the pain. “I have to do this. Hurry, before I bleed to death.” Whitney let out a fake chuckle and Trent leaned in for a kiss.
Their lips met and she uttered, “I love you, now go.”
“Love you too,” Trent said and walked up the hill with Tara following him.
Whitney began to panic as she thought about her joke regarding bleeding to death. She didn’t want to look at the wound because she thought it might make her pass out. Just feeling all the blood in her right hand was making her uneasy. Her frantic thoughts shifted to whether she would die in Dankstone and end up in the Devil’s Waterway.
Jetting visions of ultraviolet rainbows and blinking bright lights appeared in front of her eyes. Her breathing slowed to a snail’s pace and jagged sharp pains circled her left hand and forearm. She sat down on mother earth and then lay on her back.
The silver lining of the gray clouds streaked off into the cerulean sky like lightning bolts. Whitney shook her head and tried to chase away the visions but her body was in shock. Her left arm started to spasm uncontrollably, her chest went cold and her mouth ran dry.
Whitney really regretted her decision to stay back as she could swear death was slowly creeping in. She wondered why Trent and Tara had left her there to die. Were they sneaking off to have a relationship and was this how they planned to get rid of her? For some reason, these ludicrous ideas circulated through her head.
A strong wind out of nowhere kicked up some of the brown dust around Whitney. She smiled, assuming the breeze was courtesy of Darominius’ wings. However, the steady sound of a rotating propeller filled her ears.
Whitney sat up as a big chopper swooped in toward the school. She assumed this must be the police and wondered how Trent and Tara had made it out so fast. The large helicopter hovered next to the third floor, right outside Robbie’s room.
A wrecking ball hanging from a linked chain dropped from the bottom of the aircraft and dangled back and forth. The fire started to build inside her chest again. Whitney couldn’t let this guy take Robbie and leave him in the coma for the rest of his life.
The burning swelled and spread to every part of her body as she expanded. The boiling liquid inside her veins and arteries steamed like a kettle and awakened the dragon. Silver reptilian flesh formed over the back of her good hand. Smoke started to rise from her bandages covering her wounds. The white cloth turned to ashes and fluttered in the air before falling to the ground. Her arms transposed into V-shaped wings and her neck grew exponentially longer.
The full-sized dragon trotted over to the side of the building with the helicopter. The heavy thuds of her feet continued and Whitney tried to rise into the air. Her right wing flailed away but the left one had gone dead and she tumbled to the ground.
She got up and shook off the pain. The smaller propeller blades allowed the helicopter to get dangerously close to the edge of the building.
Whitney raced over to the helicopter as the wrecking ball swung like a pendulum and crashed into the side of the brick building, sending pinkish-orange fragments in every direction. She neared the helicopter and used the heels of her feet like springs.
The silver dragon leaped into the air.
She opened her mouth as far as her jaw muscles would permit and summoned the fire within. A ball of flames started in her chest as the force started to build. The explosion erupted and sent a tidal wave of streaming flames up through her long neck and out of her mouth. The aircraft was immediately set ablaze and two men jumped off before the fluttering chopper crashed to the ground.
Two more men appeared to be climbing out of the wreckage. One man’s clothes were on fire and he rolled around the grass to put himself out.
She tried to calm her mind and revert to human form. A chill circulated inside Whitney and an icy waterfall started at the top of her head and quickly ran down to her feet. She shrank drastically and transposed back into human form.
One of the men from the helicopter struggled to get away, dragging his injured right leg. Despite being bereft of energy, Whitney jogged after the man. She picked up the pace as she closed in on the short man and drove her right shoulder into his back, sending him sp
rawling to the ground.
The man ended up on his back and Whitney jumped on top of him. She pressed her shin over his chest to hold him down. She ripped off the black ski mask covering his face and memories started to flutter into her head. His round face and slanted nose caught her eye before she focused on the big ears.
Remembrances of yesteryear flashed in front of her.
Middle school.
She recollected being in the lunchroom and Danny Bundy approaching her. The other students had gathered around as Danny asked Whitney to the Spring Dance. Whitney had assumed the proposal was a set up to embarrass her so she said no. Danny had ran away and never talked to her again.
“You’re Danny Bundy.”
The man spoke through the obvious pain. “No, I’m not. I’m Lance Lemure, I stopped using that name a long time ago. I swear I don’t know who you are other than a high-profile investigator.”
His arm twitched uncontrollably and kept slapping Whitney on the hip. The man turned his face from side to side, attempting to hide his features until Whitney grabbed him by the floppy earlobes. With his face still, she confirmed that this was the boy she had rejected.
“You son of a bitch. You did all this because I turned you down for a school dance?” She slid her shin up to his throat and pressed down.
The man broke down and started bawling. He spoke in short spurts through the crying. “You bitch. You ruined me. For all women. I lost all my confidence. After you cruelly rejected me. I would have been doing you a favor. Weird Whitney. You were Weird Whitney. I picked. I picked the only girl that was sure to say yes. But, but, but you didn’t.”
“You pathetic little boy. You’ve been harboring this weird resentment all these years.” Whitney contemplated punching Danny in the face with her good hand.
He said, “No. I had completely forgotten about you until you suddenly made your way into the headlines by taking down organized crime in Pennsburgh and then that lovely bit with exposing the politicians. I snapped and had to get you and your wonder boy out of the way for my big heist.”
She decided to forgo hitting the pathetic mess of a man. Whitney scanned the area. Two of Danny’s partners tried to hobble away but she knew they wouldn’t get very far at the speed they were traveling. Another man in a suit lay face down in the grass only feet away from the narrow creek.
Lost In Dreamland Page 10
