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Squawk: Beginnings (Book #1)

Page 17

by Craig Halloran


  The dragon dropped out of the rafters onto the workbench.

  Gabe jumped. Covering his heart with his hand, he said, “Will you stop doing that? I’m too young to have a heart attack.”

  The little dragon stretched out his wings and rattled his neck. Squawk was little bigger than Gabe’s hands, about the size of a kitten, but with his wings out, he seemed much bigger. His tail swished behind him. His bluish eyes were intent on Gabe’s.

  Gabe patted the top of Squawk’s head with his thumb. “You like to play games, don’t you?” He fed the dragon some of his cracker. “Go ahead, then. Finish it all.”

  Squawk gobbled the cracker up. His tiny claws dug into the tabletop, making divots. Once he finished, he slunk over the table, head low, then sprang onto one of the support beams and climbed up into the rafters.

  Gabe took a drink. “You and those rafters. I know, I know. You like the rafters better than the cages, but we have to be careful.” He made his way over to the doors, putting his ear to each one. He’d almost gotten as good as Garland when it came to hearing people before they touched the door. “All clear.”

  “All clear?” Garland said from the other side of the door. “All clear from what, whipping post?”

  “All clear from nosy, sawed-off people,” Gabe fired back.

  “You better watch it, lizard breath. I’ll come in there and thump you.”

  “Thump me with what, your step stool?”

  Something hard whacked into the door. Gabe hopped back.

  “Remember the last time, whipping post. Remember the last time,” Garland said, referring to the time he knocked Gabe on his ass.

  “Whatever you say, little bird. Now, get back up in your cage.”

  “Go eat some more dragon dung, whipping post!”

  Gabe giggled. He loved getting under Garland’s skin. Confident the coast was clear, he called Squawk down from the rafters. He was looking up, searching the rafters, when he felt something crawling up his legs. “Don’t do that, Squawk.”

  The dragon climbed up his body. He perched himself on Gabe’s shoulder. His tongue flicked out of his mouth.

  “You have to watch out for those claws,” Gabe said. “I can’t get rips in my clothes, you know. Sage wouldn’t be happy.”

  Squawk let out a rattling chirp.

  “I know, I know, he’s a little creepy, but at least he doesn’t talk too much. And he does give us food.”

  For the past several weeks, the bond between Gabe and Squawk had become ever stronger. He had the benefit of spending most of his days with the dragon. In that time, he’d been able to teach Squawk to do many things. Roll over. Jump. Flutter. There was an old set of keys that he’d have Squawk fetch. There wasn’t anything too sophisticated about what he taught the dragon, but whatever he envisioned Squawk doing, the dragon did.

  Gabe lifted Squawk off of his shoulder. He held him in his hands like a cup in a saucer. He felt guilty for the deception he put the dragon through. “I don’t know what’s in store for me and you, but we have to have faith that we will see it through together. Just don’t get mad at me, okay?”

  Squawk flicked his black tongue at him. His eyelids flashed.

  The deception. It was the charge that the Count had given him. He had to convince Mandy that she was bonded with Squawk. So far, it had worked, but it wasn’t without its challenges, especially in the beginning. That was the hardest. After Mandy had kissed Gabe, she was so excited she wanted to take Squawk back home with her to bond further. Gabe couldn’t let that happen, not after she’d revealed she’d drowned her first dragon. So in a moment of quick thinking, as soon as she headed for the door, Gabe commanded Squawk to go into a writhing fit. The ruse startled Oscar as well as Mandy. All of a sudden, Harlan was chasing Squawk through the stables, trying to kill him with a shovel. In desperation, Gabe snatched Squawk away from the decapitating edge of the shovel. He secured Squawk in a cage and made the case that the reason Squawk was sick was because he preferred the company of dragons. With the Count’s help, he’d convinced them.

  “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

  Ever since that moment, he’d been in control. When Mandy came, she could play with Squawk. He’d even let her seem to have the dragon do a couple of tricks. The problem was he had no idea what would happen if she came and he wasn’t there. That worried him the most. In the meantime, he envisioned Squawk being nice to Mandy, hoping the dragon would remember. If not, it could be deadly.

  Some of the dragons stirred. Gabe hastened over to Squawk’s cage and put him inside. He never had any idea when the gamers would show up to see their dragons. It would have been natural for the gamers to visit often, but unfortunately, only a handful showed up during the week. They’d maybe spend an hour with the dragons, feeding and holding them. Gabe would tuck himself out of sight as best he could, aghast. He couldn’t imagine going days without seeing Squawk.

  Combing his hair through his fingers, he let out a long breath. He dusted off his shirt and smoothed back his eyebrows. The most frequent visitor was Mandy. His ear caught a soft scuffle and click on the other side of the door that led into the arena. Ten seconds later, the door started to open. He hadn’t seen Mandy in two days, so he was looking forward to being in the fold of her charms again.

  But Mandy didn’t cross the threshold. Malak did.

  CHAPTER 46

  Malak’s fierce stare knocked Gabe back into the cages. He wanted to crawl into a hole. Disappear.

  Jubal entered the room with company. It was the dominion team that Malak worked with, a teenage boy, and his Blue Guard. The boy made his way over to Terrance’s cage. He eyed Gabe with a look of disdain and snapped his fingers.

  Gabe hustled over to one of the lockers between the cages. Inside were several sets of gloves. He found the ones with the gold trim laced around fingers with matching tassels. Head down, he gave the dragonry gloves to the gamer.

  The gamer, Clarence, a wiry teen with a shaved head, removed the dragon. Terrance remained rigid—paws out, stiff head and tail not moving. Clarence grunted. “He’s eating better, it seems. He grows faster than me.” He peeked into the cage. “These conditions are much better than the last time I was here. It’s good to see.” He hefted the dragon up in the air. “My Terrance deserves the best. After all, he’ll be the next champion. Won’t he, Malak?”

  “Certainly.” Malak gave a nod. “Certainly.”

  “Let’s take him up top and give these short little legs a stretch, shall we? I’ve been thinking about some new moves I’d like to try for the next tournament.”

  Malak moved his large frame out of the way. “After you, sir. I’ll fetch my gloves and be after you right away.”

  “No rush, Malak. I think I’ll need a few moments to rekindle things with Terrance. He seems rigid.”

  “Aye. I’ll respect your privacy.”

  As soon as Malak turned his back, Gabe slid behind him, heading toward Garland’s door. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Malak caught him by the neck of his shirt.

  “Going somewhere, boy?” Malak flung him back inside the circle of cages. “I sure would hate to see you go. It’s been a while. I missed you.”

  Gabe backed away.

  Jubal had made his way around the other side of the cages and hemmed him in. He shoved Gabe in the back. “Yeah, I’ve missed you too.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Gabe said. An old fear began to swell in his belly. “Just leave me alone.”

  Malak grabbed hold of his sleeve. “My, that’s a fine shirt you have there. Seems ole Tight Face is keeping you nice and pretty.” He jerked the sleeve. The fabric ripped at the shoulder. “Oh, isn’t that too bad. I guess you’re going to have to sew that up. Do you know how to sew, boy? If you don’t, I can only imagine that Sage will be very disappointed. Have you ever disappointed him, boy? Ever see that dominion suck-up angry? He has issues. Bad issues.”

  Gabe didn’t have any idea what Malak was talking about. Sage
had never shown a shred of emotion about anything. As for the sleeve, he could stitch that up easily. Mabel had taught him how to sew as soon as he was old enough and able.

  “It is a nice shirt, Father. It’s so nice that I hate it.” Jubal grabbed his shirt and ripped it out from the back. “Ah-hahahaha!” He held his gut, laughing. “He won’t be sewing that back, will he, Father?”

  “I don’t suppose.”

  Without even realizing it, Gabe hauled back and punched Jubal right in the face. The older boy stumbled backward. The laughing stopped. His nose bled. He touched it. Seeing the blood on his fingers, Jubal pounced.

  Gabe caught the full force of Jubal’s body. Built with the bullish figure of his father, Jubal overwhelmed Gabe’s slighter weight. The pair wrestled in a tangle of knots and flailing limbs. Gabe gave it all he had. His punches fell flat as if he were hitting a bag of sand. Jubal might be a brat, but he was solid, seasoned, and durable. Within seconds, Gabe found himself pinned down by Jubal’s forearm.

  “I’m going to break you, Gabe, break you in half!”

  Gabe wriggled. He punched Jubal in the ribs. Malak’s boot stomped on his hand. He cried out. “Gah!”

  “Keep it down, boy!” Malak shoved Jubal off of Gabe. “That’s enough. Wipe your nose. We need to get up top.”

  Gabe scooted toward the cages, holding his throat and coughing.

  “You won’t escape me, boy. My wrath will be appeased.” Malak gave him a stiff kick in the gut. “You’ll be mine again soon enough. Your corpse of a father owes me.”

  Gabe looked away.

  Malak grabbed his face. “You better make up a really good story about what happened here for Sage. It better not involve me and Jubal. Else, you’ll be sorry.”

  Gabe nodded.

  Malak and Jubal left.

  Gabe fought to catch his breath. Using the workbench, he hauled himself back to his feet. His shirt was half torn from his body. Worse than that, Jubal’s blood was on it. Maybe it was his own blood. He dabbed his fingers over his face. No blood. Staring at the door his assailant departed through, he said, “I really hate them.”

  He opened up the workbench drawer. There was a ring of small keys inside. He took it over to Squawk’s cage. He wanted to lock it. According to his father, there’d been a time when the gamers would lock up their dragons. The practice had been abandoned, but there was still a master key set to all the cages. Now Gabe feared something might happen to his dragon. Calm down, Gabe. Calm down. Malak thinks it’s someone else’s dragon, not yours. He put the keys back. Returning to the cage, he said to Squawk, “I’ve got to go change my shirt. Not a peek at those devils before I return. Understand? Just look away from them.”

  Squawk curled up, hiding his face inside his wings.

  Gabe hurried out of the den, saying to Garland, “I’ll be right back.” He left the dwarf with his mouth hanging open. Rushing up the narrow steps in the alley, he halted. The Count and Sage stood at the top, talking with a group of people.

  No, no, no. Gabe crept backward down the stairs but not before Sage caught his eye.

  CHAPTER 47

  Gabe didn’t get away with anything. Instead, he wound up in a bigger mess than he’d ever imagined. At first, he thought that Sage was going to cover for him. The man seemed uncertain of what to make of his torn shirt and began scooting him down the alley. The Count was the problem, though. The hawkish woman didn’t miss anything. She cornered him, and he confessed.

  Sage whisked Gabe across the southeastern compound into a small concrete building. There was nothing significant about it other than the Blue Guardsman standing outside. The man saluted and ushered them in. The building was lit dimly by a pair of oil lanterns that hung from the ceiling. The walls were lined with metal shelves half-filled with an assortment of supplies such as blankets and canned foods. There were two more guards inside. Each of them carried a club. Sage led Gabe down a long set of metal steps into another room. The room was prison-like, centered on a well with a lid. It seemed out of place and reminded Gabe of the well that he dropped the dragon excrement in.

  “You’ll be waiting here. Have a seat and don’t move.” Sage left up the stairs. The guards closed the door.

  It was stuffy and hot. Gabe fished his finger through his collar. He fanned himself. Sweat dripped down his face and off his chin, splattering on the floor. The glow of a single oil lamp was his only companion. Without it, he’d have been in total darkness. Minutes turned into an hour, and an hour became an eternity. The isolation made his heart race. He wanted to get out of the humid room.

  I can’t take this. I can’t take this.

  Horrible scenarios played with his mind. Malak had warned him about Sage’s anger. Perhaps this was Gabe’s punishment. Maybe he’d been brought down there to starve and die. The well loomed before him like a great mouth, ready to swallow him whole. A very soft scratching came from within and dug into his brain. Eyes fixed on the metal lid, he moved closer. He touched the lid. It vibrated ever so slightly. His arm hairs stood on end. He jerked his hands back.

  Something lives in there!

  A chain was attached to the top of the well’s heavy metal lid. The chain looped through a pulley full of teeth and was attached to a handle on the other side of the wall.

  Oh man, I’ve got to get out of here! He rushed over to the metal door and pushed the handle. It was sealed. He balled up his fist and started to pound. The door swung open. Malak filled the frame. Gabe walked backward, shaking his head. No. No. No. This can’t be happening.

  Malak entered, but he wasn’t alone. A frown crossed his face. Behind him came Jubal, followed by Sage and the Count. His hands were tied behind his back, and so were Jubal’s. The Count gave Malak a hard shove inside.

  “Malak, Malak, Malak.” The Count addressed the leader of the dragon hunters. “It seems you’re unable to let your grudge go.”

  “I’m owed a son,” he said to her.

  “You are owed what I say you are owed!” The Count’s loud words echoed inside the chamber. “Now, sit. Sit like children! All of you!” She gave a nod. Sage made his way over to the handle on the wall. He started winding it. The slack in the chain tightened. The metal lid began to lift.

  The soft scuffling Gabe had heard earlier increased in volume. It was the sound of tiny legs and hard-shelled bodies grinding together. He pushed back against the wall.

  The count picked up a long metal set of tongs from the floor. She addressed the men. “You really have to land on my bad side to wind up here. It’s even new to you, isn’t it, Malak?”

  With his face all puffy and covered in sweat, Malak said, “Yes.”

  A sheen of sweat coated the bare arms of the able-bodied woman. “Out in the fields, the farmers get plagued from time to time. The bugs can be fierce. Every so often, a tragedy can occur.” With the lid hoisted high above her head, she poked the tongs into the hole, sinking her entire arm to the shoulder into the mouth of blackness. She withdrew. An insect was pinched between the jagged teeth of the tongs. Big as a man’s hands, a giant tick swam inside the pinching claws.

  Jubal’s eyes grew large. Malak shifted in his seat.

  The Count swung the tick before all of their eyes. “In this world, there is normal and abnormal. As you can see, this tick is abnormal, one hundred times bigger than the ones you pick off the dogs.” She stuck it in Jubal’s face. His head clocked back against the wall. “Inside the walls of this compound and a little beyond, I prefer normal. I protect the citizens from abnormal. But when my people, the ones close to me, step out of line, my punishment is swift.” She held the tick right before Malak’s eyes. The creature’s pinchers clenched, making an eerie click, click, click. She leaned closer to the man. “You anger me, Malak. Insubordination boils my blood. You keep up with your childish antics, and I’ll bathe you in the tick tub.”

  “Murder is wrong,” Malak said.

  “Oh, it won’t kill you. Not at all. But the ticks will fasten themselves to your
lumpy body, and it will be pure hell when your son has to pluck them off.”

  Malak’s Adam’s apple rolled underneath the meaty folds of his neck.

  “And if that doesn’t put the fear in you,” she continued, “maybe seeing your son go through the same process will. Hmmm… Malak, what do you think? Can you set this grudge aside once and for all and move on?”

  Malak’s entire face clenched. Finally, he gave a nod.

  “I hope you mean it, Malak. I’ve warned you enough. So help me, I hope you mean it. Leave Gabe alone.” She dropped the tick back inside the pit. Sage lowered the lid. The grinding sounds of countless insects’ exoskeletons quieted.

  But Gabe could still hear it inside his ears.

  “Guards, take them out of here.”

  Malak and Jubal were escorted out. The Count turned her attention back to Gabe. “Malak is an unforgiving man. You still need to be careful of him.” She waved the tongs across his eyes. “You still need to be careful of me. Fortunately for you, I understand that your relationship with Mandy and the dragon goes well. Is that so?”

  He nodded.

  “Good. Are you ready for the dragon games?”

  The Count had a unique way of getting him to say what he didn’t want to say. Knowing full well that Squawk was too small to play in the dangerous dragon games, he said, “Yes.”

  The Count let out a chilling chuckle. “Good.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Sage led. Gabe followed. They picked their way through the streets of the compound. It was a strange part of Sage’s routine. Eyes forward, the expressionless man slipped by the careless citizens, who were only watching out for themselves. He came to a stop where a small enclave of merchants had set up shop on the edge of the street. One of them had spools of thread as well as many other items. Thread was a treasure. It kept people’s haggard clothing together.

  With nimble fingers, Sage plucked out two spools, a lime green and a black. He handed the merchant a flat metal coin. The man made the coin disappear into his robes. There was an expression of delight in his eyes. Coins were rare. Most people traded with goods or labor. When something unique from the old world appeared at the market, people would fight over it. Men would argue, women would offer their bodies, and all for things that they didn’t even recognize or understand. His father had called it junk. It was stuff from the old world that didn’t work anymore.

 

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