by Mari Mancusi
“Don’t you see?” Rebekah wailed. “This is all my fault! I opened the barn. I set it free. All these people—all of…this…It’s because of me!”
No, Scarlet wanted to say. I did. In fact, I all but talked the dragon into it. But she found she couldn’t speak the words out loud. It would only make things worse.
“It was a nightmare,” Rebekah continued in a hollow voice. “Everyone screaming and running—trying to get away. Mrs. Hutchinson from the post office fell and got trampled. They had to take her away in the ambulance. And Tommy…” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if unable to continue.
Scarlet stared at her, a feeling of cold, black dread washing over her. “Tommy?” she prodded, trying to speak past her fear. “You mean your cousin Tommy?” Tommy was eight and Rebekah’s pride and joy.
“They took him away in an ambulance,” her friend said flatly. “The dragon…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, Scarlet, I think I killed my own cousin.”
Scarlet shrank back, her knees buckling, the guilt and panic threatening to swallow her whole. She wanted to tell Rebekah it wasn’t her fault. That it was she who had been the complete idiot, thinking it was a good idea to set a real-life dragon loose on the town.
But at the same time, her brain couldn’t reconcile the cause and effect. Emmy wasn’t a monster. She was sure of it. Only a few nights ago, she’d saved Scarlet’s life for no reason. Why would she go and attack a stadium full of people a few days later? It didn’t make any sense. There had to be more to the story. Some logical explanation why such a mild-mannered creature would suddenly go on a killing spree.
Not that this would matter to Tommy…
“Rebekah, what are you still doing here? I thought I told you to go home!”
The two girls turned as a man’s voice broke through the night air. Scarlet recognized Rebekah’s father on approach, his steps slow and his face grave. Her friend ran to him, throwing herself into his arms, clinging to him desperately as sobs shook her body.
“Dad!” she cried. “Oh, Dad, I was so scared!”
Don’t tell him about the barn, Scarlet thought as she watched them worriedly. Now is not the time for confessions. Suddenly she was glad she’d destroyed the video evidence. When she got home, she’d delete the YouTube upload as well.
Rebekah’s father stroked his daughter’s hair, soothing her with low whispers. Scarlet stood to the side, shuffling from foot to foot, suddenly feeling awkward and out of place. Not to mention consumed by guilt. She wanted to run, to hide, to find a quiet place to try to sort out all that had happened. But at the same time, she felt glued to the spot. She wondered if she should call her mother. Had she seen the whole thing on the news by now? If so, she’d probably be freaking out.
Suddenly she spotted none other than the monster himself, ambling toward them, his bar buddies in tow. She bit her lower lip. The last thing she wanted was to deal with him, but at this point she was desperate to get home.
Making up her mind, she waved him over. “Can I get a ride with you?” she asked. “I don’t want Mom to have to come out here now.”
He gave her a suspicious glare. She wondered if he even remembered what had happened between them earlier in the week or if his drunken state of mind had made him block the whole thing out. When she’d woken the next morning, she’d found the broken sliding glass door taped up with cardboard, but no one had said a word about how it had gotten that way. She’d decided it was best not to bring it up.
“Sorry, I’m not going home right now,” he told her. Even from where she stood, she could smell the stench of whiskey on his breath. He gestured to his friends. “Me and the boys have got some business to take care of.” He patted the revolver strapped to his side and laughed harshly. “We’re gonna go bag us a beast.”
Rebekah’s father looked over at them, his mouth dipping to a frown. “I think you might want to leave that to the professionals, boys,” he said carefully, gently prying his still-clinging daughter off of him. “Sheriff Thomas said the government’s sending out some Homeland Security agents to figure things out. They should be here within the hour. And word is, whatever it is, they want it alive.”
The men exchanged amused looks. Scarlet’s mom’s boyfriend slowly shook his head. “The thing is…Bud…I’ve never really been the type of man who’s content to sit around, picking his own ass, waiting for a bunch of Washington boys to show up and play cowboy,” he drawled. “Sorry, that just ain’t me.”
His boys broke out in laughter at this, sending a chill down Scarlet’s spine. She prayed Emmy had gotten far away from here by now. Out of the reach of the rednecks. No matter what had happened in the stadium, the dragon didn’t deserve to be hunted down by these drunken louts.
One of the monster’s buddies—Robert, she thought he was called—spit a wad of tobacco onto the ground. “This is Vista,” he declared. “We take care of our own in Vista.”
“And we certainly ain’t gonna leave it alive,” insisted a third man. He was younger, goateed. Maybe one of the sons. His grimy T-shirt read “Drinks well with others.” “That thing practically killed a kid right there on the field. What if it decided to come after your little girl here next?” He shot a lecherous sneer at Rebekah.
Rebekah’s father scowled, stepping protectively in front of his daughter. “I just think—”
“Awh, don’t you get your panties in a twist, Rearden,” her mom’s boyfriend interrupted, slapping him hard on the shoulder. “We’ll have this beast bagged and tagged and mounted above the fireplace before those government boys even know what hit ’em.” He reached for his pistol, locking and loading with a toothy grin. “Kapow! Adios, muchachos!”
His friends cheered at this, raising their own firearms in mad salute. High-fives and fist bumps were exchanged, followed by a silver flask. As they all took hardy swigs, Scarlet could only hope that the alcohol would screw with their aim.
She stared down at the ground, guilt stabbing at her gut. Poor Emmy. This was all her fault. She thought she was doing something good—getting the dragon to stand up for herself—but instead, just as the boy at the barn had predicted, she’d inadvertently put the dragon’s life in danger. If only there was some way to warn her. Or to help her escape.
But then her eyes fell upon her mother’s boyfriend and a feeling of hopelessness overwhelmed her. She couldn’t even protect her mother from this monster. And he claimed to love her mother.
Emmy was truly screwed.
“Well, I can’t stop you,” Rebekah’s father tried, giving it one last effort. “And I wish you the best of luck. Though for all we know, it’s long gone by now. Flown the coop. You have no idea where to even start to look, do you?”
“I do.”
Startled, Scarlet whirled around, her horrified eyes leveling on Rebekah. Her friend stepped out from behind her father, squaring her shoulders and taking a step toward the mob.
“Rebekah, no…” Scarlet whispered.
“The old McCormick place,” Rebekah stated flatly. “That’s where it lives.” She squeezed her hands into fists. “Now go kill it dead.”
Chapter Twelve
“Emmy? Where are you, you overgrown barbecue grill?”
Caleb ran down the field, scanning the night sky, déjà vu hitting him hard and fast. This was perfect. Just perfect. He’d managed to lose the dragon again. And this time it wasn’t even his fault. Emmy had been safe and sound, locked up in the barn when Connor and Trinity had left to go to the game, and Caleb had more than learned his lesson about taking her out for a walk. So when Grandpa had asked if it was okay for him to go out hunting, Caleb figured, why not? Emmy was on official lockdown, with no chance of getting out. Unless, of course someone intentionally broke into the barn to let her out. But who could have predicted something like that? They’d been there three months and no one had ever come within a mile of the farm since day one.
You might not have predicted it, but you could have stopped it, a voice inside his head nagged. If you hadn’t gone to the Nether again.
He scowled, pushing the voice away. What else was he supposed to have done to pass the time, all alone in a dark house while everyone else was off having fun?
He thought back to Trinity’s shining eyes—her excited face when Connor had presented her with the tickets. Okay, sure, he’d gotten Caleb a ticket too. And Grandpa had even offered to stay home and watch Emmy so the three of them could have a night out together. But Caleb found he couldn’t stomach the idea of spending hours sitting on the bleachers next to Trinity—so close he could smell her baby powder scent…and yet, at the same time, so many miles away.
He imagined sitting there, feeling like a third wheel as she and his brother laughed and teased one another and made inside jokes he didn’t understand. It was a torture he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, and in the end, he’d decided it was better to stay home.
To palm that gem.
To escape into the Nether one more time.
“Damn you, stupid dragon,” he swore. He knew he was going to get blamed for this. Once more, he’d look like the bad guy and his brother would somehow prove the hero. His only chance was to find Emmy and drag her back to the barn before anyone got home and realized she was gone.
“Caleb!”
He froze, his eyes falling on the van, fast on approach, Connor’s head sticking out the open window. His shoulders slumped. So much for getting her back unnoticed. And as his brother got closer, Caleb caught the frantic look on his face. He already knew, he realized. Even better.
“It wasn’t my fault!” he blurted out as Connor pulled up a few feet away. “Some girl broke into the barn and—”
But his brother only waved him off. “We’ve got bigger problems,” he interrupted. “Emmy just decided to perform her own halftime show in the middle of Vista stadium. In front of half the town, nonetheless.”
“What?” Caleb stared at him, fear sliding down his back. “Where’s Trin?” He tried to look into the van, praying to see her inside. But the passenger seat was empty. It was then that he noticed the flashing lights in the distance. Police, fire, ambulance. This was not good.
“I don’t know,” Connor admitted, and Caleb could hear a thread of hysteria wind through his brother’s normally placid tone. “She jumped on Emmy’s back and took off flying.” He cringed. “She could be…anywhere.”
The concern in his voice was palpable and Caleb could clearly hear what his brother was leaving unsaid. Emmy wasn’t old enough, wasn’t large enough, to safely take on a rider. If Trinity couldn’t hold on while the dragon was air bound…
“It’s worse than that,” Connor interjected, evidently reading his thoughts. “They opened fire. I think…maybe…” He trailed off, his face now ashen under the van’s headlights.
Caleb’s heart wrenched violently. “No!” he cried, grabbing Connor by the shoulders and shaking him hard. “She’s fine. We’d know it if she wasn’t. I’d know.”
The words shot from his mouth like a cannonball, as if somehow he could make them true by sheer force of will. But he would know, wouldn’t he? They’d spent so much time together. They’d shared so much over the last few months. He’d kissed her. He’d loved her. He’d know if something had happened to her.
Wouldn’t he?
This is your fault, the voice inside of him nagged once again. If you’d stood guard like you were supposed to—if you hadn’t run away to the Nether, Emmy would be safe and sound. Trinity would be safe and sound, having fun, enjoying being normal for the first time in months. But no. You were too weak. Too selfish. And now you probably killed the both of them.
“She’s fine. She’s fine. She has to be!” he repeated, his voice sounding strangled and choked. He could feel his brother staring at him with pitying eyes, but he refused to acknowledge him. Refused to acknowledge any possibility other than the idea that Trinity was absolutely one hundred percent fine.
“Um, hey? Excuse me?”
The sudden female voice made the two brothers whirl around. Caleb’s eyes widened as they fell upon none other than the very same girl from the farmhouse. The one who had broken into the barn and freed Emmy and started this whole mess in the first place.
“You!” Caleb cried, hot anger spilling over him like lava from a volcano. “Do you know what you’ve done?” He stalked toward her, grabbing her and shoving her hard against the van. She cried out in a mixture of surprise and pain. But Caleb ignored her, pinning her to the vehicle, his nails digging into her soft shoulders. It was all he could do not to strangle her on the spot. To hurt her like she’d hurt Emmy.
Like she might have hurt Trin.
“Stop it! Caleb, let her go!”
Caleb felt himself being jerked away, shoved roughly aside. He hit the ground with a loud oomph and pain shot up his arm. He looked up to see his brother approaching the girl, giving her a careful once-over and asking if she was okay. Furious, he scrambled back to his feet.
“It was her!” he cried, pointing a shaking hand in the girl’s direction. “She was the one. She broke into the barn and let Emmy out.”
Connor gave him a steely look then turned back to the girl, speaking in a measured tone that made Caleb want to kick his twin’s self-righteous ass. Didn’t he get that she was the enemy? The one who had sparked this inferno?
“Is this true?” Connor asked. “Did you set Emmy free?”
The girl nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. She glanced fearfully at Caleb then back at Connor, swallowing hard. “I thought I was helping her,” she choked out. “She looked so sad, all alone in a dark barn. I only wanted to help her.”
“Congratulations,” Caleb growled, glaring at her. “You did a bang-up job at that.”
Connor shot him a look. “You’re not helping, Caleb.”
The girl hung her head. “I didn’t know,” she protested. “Believe me, I had no idea.”
“Look,” Connor said, clearing his throat. “I think it would be best for you to just go home, okay? Just forget any of this happened.”
The girl surprised Caleb by shaking her head vehemently. “No,” she said. “You don’t understand. There’s this group of men—my mom’s boyfriend and some of his bar buddies. They’re drunk and armed and looking for the dragon. I’ve got to find her—before it’s too late.”
Caleb stared at the girl, feeling his knees buckle out from under him. And here he thought things couldn’t have gotten any worse. Now, even if Trin had somehow managed to survive her dragon ride, she and Emmy could still be mowed down by a bunch of drunken rednecks.
“That’s just great,” he spit out, forcing his anger to swallow his fear. “But thanks to your little prank, we have no idea where she is.”
The girl bit her lower lip, a gesture that oddly reminded Caleb of Trin. “That’s not actually true,” she said quietly.
“What do you mean?” Connor demanded, finding his voice. Suddenly he was the one standing too close, towering over her small, trembling frame. She looked up at him with frightened eyes.
“A few days ago,” she managed to squeak out. “I was…hurt. The dragon found me. She healed my arm. And ever since that, I…” She trailed off with a helpless shrug. “Man, I sound completely crazysauce, don’t I?”
But Caleb found himself shaking his head, the events of the last few days finally pulling together in his mind. So that’s where the dragon had disappeared to. Why she’d returned with a broken scale.
Damn you, Emmy. After all Trinity’s done for you…
He approached the girl, forcing a tight smile to his lips. “Actually, that makes perfect sense,” he said. “Now how about you take us to the dragon?”
Chapter Thirteen
Hang on, Trinity. We’re on our way.
Connor wat
ched as his brother put the van in park and yanked out the keys while the girl, Scarlet, was already scrambling out the back door. They’d need to walk from here on out, she’d told them. The dragon was hiding deep in the woods, inaccessible from any roads.
Popping open his own door, he slid out of the van and onto the soft dirt below, his eyes never leaving their guide, who was now diving into the woods, her long, straight brown hair streaming out behind her as she ran. He shook his head. Stupid girl. What had she been thinking, breaking into a barn, setting a wild animal free? It was idiotic at best. At most, suicidal.
Then again, he thought, was it any different than what Trin herself had done the first time around, when Emmy was locked up in a government lab, being experimented on and cloned? She and her Dracken pals had also come to the same daft conclusion that setting a fire-breathing beast and her brood free was the right and proper thing to do.
It wasn’t really their fault, he knew. Dragons had an uncanny ability to make humans feel sorry for them, to present themselves as vulnerable and weak—appealing to peoples’ protective, nurturing instincts and convincing them they were doing the right thing by helping them. Not unlike how dogs had neatly wrapped humanity around their own fuzzy paws with their big brown eyes and wagging tails. Dogs—and dragons—made people feel needed, wanted, loved, and accepted. Feelings they didn’t always get enough of from their fellow man.
And so people willingly deluded themselves that these survival instincts, honed by years of evolution, were actually true emotions. True love. And they’d do whatever it took—even putting their own lives in jeopardy—to keep these creatures from harm.
But if the tables were turned, would a dragon do the same thing for a human? Would he sacrifice himself and his own happiness for the sake of mankind? That spirit of self-sacrifice was, after all, the one thing that separated man from beast. And no matter how smart or magical dragons appeared, they were still, at the end of the day, only animals.
