Dactyl Hill Squad

by Daniel José Older

  Most Sincerely,

  Private T. Summers

  African Brigade

  9th Louisiana Regiment

  Mounted Ceratops Division

  Magdalys lowered the letter and wiped her eyes. She placed it carefully inside the envelope and tucked the envelope inside her satchel. Slowly, the information seeped into her mind and became truth. Her brother had been assigned to a dinoriding division of the U.S. Army. He’d been ambushed — that alone was hard enough to wrap her head around. He was wounded, but he wasn’t dead. Not yet. He was … alive.

  He needed her.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep, ragged breath.

  Montez needed her and she was a million miles away.

  But really, what could she do anyway? She wasn’t a nurse, although she’d gotten more than enough experience helping the matrons tape up the other kids’ scrapes and bruises. But she was the only family Montez had. And now he was alone and wounded, dying maybe, and … she had to get to him. Somehow.

  Someone in the audience screamed, pulling Magdalys from her thoughts. It wasn’t a stage scream; someone was truly terrified. Then more screams filled the air, which suddenly seemed very thick.

  “Fire!” someone yelled, just as the crisp smell of ash and burning wood reached Magdalys’s nose.

  “FIRE!” the whole world seemed to scream at once, a sudden, deafening roar of terror. Up on stage, the actors stood frozen, staring at a flickering light that emanated from a far corner of the theater as the feathered microraptors shrieked and scattered.

  The kids, Magdalys thought. They’ll be trampled. Or burned alive. With a roar, the trickle of fleeing theatergoers suddenly became a stampede. An impenetrable, tangled mass swept toward Magdalys, flushed around her, and nearly toppled her as she stumbled along with them and out into the muggy Manhattan night.

  MAGDALYS SCANNED THE fleeing crowd for her friends. Amaya would look out for Little Sabeen. And Mapper would stick by them; all three were probably ducking between people’s legs toward the exit. Two Step, though … he could end up anywhere. What if he was trapped in the rafters?

  Magdalys blinked through the billowing smoke, trying to make out the rooftop of the theater. Around her, people yelled and cried, still flooding out of the front doors. She heard the sound of glass exploding and ducked as flames burst out and flickered toward the dark sky. She glanced up and down the block — the rest of the Raptor Claw was quiet. A few dark figures darted along ramshackle storefronts and dilapidated tenements; theatergoers fled down darkened alleys. As usual, the Claw reeked of dino droppings and rotten lettuce.

  There was no sign of any of the orphans.

  Where were they?

  Another burst of flame exploded from the theater, shattering more windows. They couldn’t still be inside, they’d be … Magdalys shook away the thought, her teeth chattering in the cool night breeze. Maybe there was a back exit. They were all close by the stage. Surely the actors knew of another door — what if the orphans followed them out that way?

  Magdalys pushed through the crowd, ignoring the tears and screams, and slipped down an alleyway alongside the theater. Tiny microsaurs scattered in the shadows, tittering with alarm as she passed. The low, mournful hooting of sauropods sounded across the city as Magdalys rounded the corner. There, in an open plaza behind the theater, Old Mother Virginia Brimworth leaned over, hacking up phlegmy balls of soot as Henrietta Von Marsh tended to her. Marietta Gilbert Smack and Cymbeline and Halsey Crunk ushered the orphans and a few other stragglers out of the smoky doorway. Up above, microdactyls flitted across the sky. They would be carrying updates to the authorities, Magdalys thought as she ran toward the matrons. The citywide alarm had already sounded. The ground rumbled with the weight of oncoming sauropods. The fire brigades would arrive and everything would be alright.

  Amaya and Little Sabeen stood beside each other. Smoke smudges dotted their brown faces and they both looked rattled but otherwise okay.

  “Magdalys!” Amaya yelled as she ran up to them. They embraced, and then Amaya pulled away to cough and Sabeen jumped up into Magdalys’s arms and pressed herself against her face.

  “The others?” Magdalys said.

  “Here comes Mapper now,” Marietta reported.

  A squabble of costumed microraptors burst out of the doorway first, followed by Mapper, his glasses all smoked over and his dark skin smudged with ashes. Marietta herded him toward the others. “Where’s Varney?” she yelled over the smashing windows and screams around them.

  Everyone looked around. No Varney, no wagon in sight.

  “Where did you leave him?” Von Marsh demanded.

  “Right here! Is Mother Brimworth alright?” Marietta called.

  Von Marsh shook her head, patting the older woman’s back. “She seems to have inhaled quite a bit of smoke, I’m afraid.”

  “Where’s Two Step?” Magdalys asked. “Last time I saw him he was —”

  “There!” Mapper pointed up at the rooftop, where a small shadowy form appeared through the billowing smoke.

  “We gotta get to him!” Magdalys cried.

  “We could maybe get up from one of the other buildings,” Cymbeline Crunk said. “Pass a ladder across the alleyway somehow.” She was covered in soot and her dress was charred at the edges, but at least she seemed more or less together. Her brother, Halsey, on the other hand, had shuffled off into the shadows and was sobbing as the sparkling ashes of his life’s work swirled around him.

  “Where’s the blistering fire brigade?” Von Marsh yelled. “They’d have a brachy, I’m sure, and they could get him.” Flames blasted out from a back window and a series of cracks erupted from inside the theater.

  “The foundations,” Halsey Crunk whimpered. “The whole place’ll go soon.” He shook his head.

  Magdalys looked around desperately. Something caught her eye down a street at the far end of the plaza — it was lit up. Not like streetlamps; a warmer, fuller glow, not unlike … the fire at the theater. She glanced at the sky, where a long dark plume of smoke rose above the rooftops and long graceful necks of sauropods.

  “Something else …” Magdalys said. “Something else …”

  “What?” Amaya asked.

  People were running through the plaza now, dark figures bolting out of the alleyways, some mounted on clumsy, staggering knuckleskulls. The sound of breaking glass seemed to come from all around them, and then desperate cries for help.

  “What’s happening?” Little Sabeen moaned.

  “It’s an attack,” Magdalys said.

  “Who?” asked Mapper. “Who’s attacking?”

  “The draft offices started drawing names out of a tumbler today,” Cymbeline said. “White folks are being conscripted for the war against the slaver states and they don’t want to go. There was word there could be some backlash against black New Yorkers, but this …” She shook her head.

  That’s why the city was so quiet, Magdalys thought. Like it was holding its breath, waiting for … this. She looked at the carnage around her. And this was only the beginning. Riker knew this was going to happen, and he let us walk right into it …

  “We have to get your friend down before the structure gives out. And then we have to get out of here.”

  “The structure,” Halsey muttered. “Gone. All of it. Ashes.”

  A policeman rode into the square, his knuckleskull stumbling in an awkward, rhythmless gait. The officer kept looking behind him, then up at the sky.

  “We’re saved!” Von Marsh squealed, waving at him as he approached. “Officer Swolt! Over here!”

  “You must clear the square,” Officer Swolt said, slowing his steed to an unsteady halt. “There’s a disturbance in the Claw, I’m afraid. All civilians must clear out. Full curfew in effect.” He readied to leave, apparently oblivious to the inferno that had once been a theater crackling just a few feet away.

  “Wait!” Magdalys yelled. “We need help! Our friend is on the roof!”

 
Von Marsh pushed past her. “And Mother Brimworth has inhaled a terrible amount of smoke, Officer! She’s already quite frail and needs medical treatment immediately!”

  “Oh dear,” Swolt said, steadying his mount again. He looked around, then his eyes seemed to finally settle on the ancient woman leaning on her cane in front of him. She let out a wheeze. “Oh dear,” he said again. “Come on, then, up you go.” He reached out a hand to Old Brimworth and, with Von Marsh pushing her from behind, hoisted her up into the knuckleskull’s leather saddle. “We’ll get you to the hospital.”

  “I’ll come too,” Von Marsh declared, scrambling up awkwardly before the officer could say no. “Marietta! Make sure the children make it back safely to the Asylum!” The knuckleskull reared back, almost throwing the lot of them, squawked once, and then wobbled off. “I’ll take care of Mother Brimworth! Not to worry!”

  Magdalys let out a scream, launching after them, but the dinosteed had already galloped off into the night.

  THE CRISP SMELL of fire took over the world. Pops and crackles snarled from the wrecked theater. Off to the side, the Crunks and Marietta tried to corral all the children away from the flames. Magdalys could still see Two Step waving frantically from the roof, but the smoke kept getting thicker.

  “Mags!” Little Sabeen yelled. “Come! We have to —”

  Whatever she was going to say next was lost beneath the sudden rumbling that erupted all around them. A brachy, Magdalys thought. The fire brigade …

  Sure enough, a long thick neck soon appeared over the rooftop as the thundering footsteps grew louder, and then the whole gigantic beast lumbered around a corner. It sent up a triumphant hoot as it skidded to a halt and a team of burly fellows with ash-stained faces leapt off. Two huge washbasins had been slung across the brachy’s back, and the fire brigade went to work filling up buckets and rushing around with them.

  “Hello?” Magdalys yelled. “My friend is on the roof! He’s trapped!” But no one paid her any mind. “Can you guys just —”

  Magdalys froze. The distinct feeling that someone was staring at her crept up her spine and settled into her brain. She looked up, followed the long, graceful curve of that neck as it arched into the firelit sky, and found herself gaping directly into the huge, sleepy eye of the brachy. And was it … was it smiling?

  Arruumph!! The sound seemed to burst from inside of her, and Magdalys took a step back, her mouth open.

  Um … she thought. Hello?

  The brachy threw its big head back and trumpeted into the night.

  “Quiet, you!” one of the firemen yelled. “We don’t need the damn Rusty Raptors getting territorial now, do we?”

  She’d managed to convince herself what happened with Varney might’ve somehow been a coincidence, but this … ? It hooted again as if to confirm Magdalys’s thought.

  “Quiet, I said!” The fireman directed a sharp kick at the dinosaur’s leg.

  “Incoming!” another one hollered, just as a growl came from the opposite end of the plaza.

  “Oh, now you’ve done it!” the first one spat.

  A purple-and-brown raptor stepped out in front of the burning theater. It was emaciated and bedraggled, with a few shredded orange feathers along its arms. Its foot claw was missing on one side and an eye on the other, which somehow made the thing all the more horrifying. On its back, a grim-looking mustached man in a cowboy hat brandished an old-fashioned blunderbuss, its wide metal mouth extending back over a wooden handle. Two more raptors stepped out behind it, both with armed riders on top. Their big yellow eyes surveyed the fire brigade, squinting and widening again. They swooped those long necks low, glancing back and forth, and then rose back up to their full, terrifying height.

  “The Raptor Claw is Double R territory,” the lead rider said. “Maybe you haven’t seen the updated maps.”

  Magdalys saw Sabeen and Amaya duck into the shadows, hopefully with the others.

  “And we’re here to save this building,” one of the fire brigadiers said. “So you’re welcome. Now kindly move out of our way so we can do our jobs.”

  The raptor rider released a surly smile. “That’s not how this works. We didn’t authorize anyone to put out any fires.”

  The firemen exchanged uneasy glances. The oldest of them, the same one who’d kicked the brachy, took a step forward. “There are more of us than there are of them, lads,” he said, chest puffed out. “Let’s take ’em.” The brigade drew billy clubs and axes and let out a single, unified “Huzzah!” before rushing forward.

  Magdalys held back a scream of frustration. None of this was helping! Two Step was still on the roof and the theater was still burning, and …

  Arrrroooooooooorrrrrrghhh!!

  The sound came from inside her again, and this time it was an irritated growl that so matched her own frustration she thought she herself might’ve made it. But then she looked up at the towering beast and found it glaring at the unfolding carnage. A raptor had already grabbed one of the firemen in its maw and hurled him across the plaza. Three more had been knocked over by a tail swipe, and the leader was swinging his billy club uselessly at the tallest raptor.

  The brachy looked back down at Magdalys and another frustrated call erupted through her. Maybe, Magdalys thought, taking a step toward the brachy. Just maybe. She reached out a trembling hand, took another step forward. Her hand landed on the thick hide. It was warm and glistened in the firelight. It felt rough like a tree trunk, but seemed to pulse with all that wild reptilian life.

  The brachy is very stubborn but very loyal, Dr. Barlow Sloan wrote in the Dinoguide. Once the brachy has been properly trained and domesticated, it will follow its rider into the most intolerable situations. But if it senses uncertainty or deception, it will be near impossible to get it to do anything.

  Magdalys narrowed her eyes. Fine, then, she thought. No deception here. No uncertainty. She needed this brachy to help Two Step and get everyone out of there, since no one else would do it. She made her way along its flank to where a rope ladder hung down from the worn leather saddle beside one of the water basins. Without giving time for another doubt to creep in, she grabbed the ladder and scurried up it.

  This was real. She was about to ride a dino. Or try anyway. As terrifying as the world had suddenly become, a tiny part of Magdalys thrilled at the touch of the brachy’s hide, the sting of the rope ladder in her hands, the way this huge, magnificent creature encompassed the whole world when she was this close to it, even the dank reek of it filling her nostrils.

  Raptor snarls and the shouts of wounded men still rose from the plaza. She heaved herself up to the saddle and swung her leg over the side. Before she could even find her balance, the brachy hooted once and then lunged forward, reaching the burning theater in three massive clomps.

  “Whoa!” Magdalys yelled, almost sliding right out of the saddle and into the middle of the plaza. Undaunted by the flames (it was a fire brigade dino, after all), the brachy craned its long neck to the edge of the rooftop, where Two Step stood with his mouth hanging open.

  “Jump!” Magdalys yelled.

  “Oy!” one of the firemen called. “That’s our brachy! What the devil?”

  Two Step just stood there panting for a few seconds.

  “Two Step!” Magdalys yelled. “Come! On!”

  He leapt, arms outstretched, and landed belly-first on the dino’s snout. The brachy tipped its head back toward the sky and sent Two Step sliding face-first down its neck, toward Magdalys.

  “AAAAAAAAH!!” Two Step yelled as he careened into her and they both tumbled backward in the saddle.

  “You climb every! Single! Thing!” Magdalys yelled, standing up and dusting herself off. “And then you have to do this one thing to save your own life and you freeze up! Jeez, man!”

  “I’m sorry!” Two Step stammered, but then they both fell back down as the brachy reared back, letting out a terrified howl. “Um … Magdalys … I think we’re in trouble.”

  Two of the r
aptors screeched and hurled into the air toward them.

  KA-BLAM!!

  Both raptors shrieked and landed suddenly, their heads cowed; a low, rattling growl filled the air as they glanced back and forth.

  Magdalys realized she’d ducked without meaning to. The brachy had landed his front two legs and then sidestepped uneasily at the blast, the great neck craning around to see where it had come from. The shot had sounded like it came from everywhere at once, but most of all somewhere behind Magdalys and off to the side.

  “What the — ?” one of the riders started, and then Magdalys saw Cymbeline Crunk step forward, still in full costume, fairy wings and all, with a double-barreled shotgun raised. And then the world seemed to explode again as she blasted a second shot over everyone’s heads. The raptors backstepped so quickly, one rider fell headlong onto the cobblestones and then scrambled up and bolted.

  “Let’s go,” Cymbeline said, grabbing one of the leather straps on the brachy’s saddle and dangling herself alongside the huge dino, shotty pointed forward. “We gotta get the others.”

  Magdalys and Two Step traded a wide-eyed gape, and then Magdalys turned back to the brachy. “Come on, big fella,” she whispered.

  “Um, did you just talk to the dino?” Two Step asked.

  With a harrumphing sound that Magdalys wasn’t sure if everyone could hear or just her, the brachy strode into the crowd of stunned tusslers.

  “And did it listen to you?” Two Step said.

  “Mind ya business,” Magdalys snorted.

  “This is Rusty Rapt —” one of the riders started.

  “Ah, shut it, hickjop,” Cymbeline ordered. The Rusty Raptors all clammed up accordingly, eyes wide. “My smoothbore will blast a hole or twelve in each of you while you’re still fiddling with the ramrod of your grandma’s blunderbuss there.” There was a pause, and the riders looked back and forth at each other uneasily. “Now scatter, you moose-face loobies.” The Rusty Raptors didn’t have to be told twice. She was right, after all, and anyway her tone left no room for discussion.