by Mari Mancusi
“There are dozens of websites about Emmy,” Luke explained patiently. “Possibly hundreds if you count Tumblrs and Facebook fan pages. But none are as comprehensive as ours. We only post photos and videos after a careful authentication process. People come to us when they want to know the truth.”
“Oh my God! I cannot believe you’re really here!” Natasha burst out with a shriek. She bounced up and down, clapping her hands together. “I mean, we figured you were probably beating it down to Mexico by now, after that whole thing went down in San Angels. We’ve got a ton of stringers, waiting at the borders, hoping to catch a glimpse of the van.” She beamed. “But instead you’ve come here! To our hometown!”
Nate leapt forward, waving his phone in Trinity’s face. She took a hesitant step backward. “Can we interview you?” he begged. “Just a few questions.”
“You don’t know how much it would mean to your fans,” Natasha added with a pleading look. “To get an exclusive shout-out from Trinity Foxx herself.”
Fans? She had fans? “Um,” Trinity stammered, looking from one of the teens to the other. Of all the things she expected to happen, this was definitely not one of them. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she said. “I’m kind of on the run, you know.”
“Right. Of course,” Luke interjected, waving Nate and his phone away. “You don’t want anyone to know where you are. Totally understandable. The last thing we need is for the government to locate you and come to take Emmy away. Who knows what would happen to her if she fell into their hands.” He grimaced.
“They’d probably dissect her,” Natasha said with a scowl. “Study her like a science experiment in one of their secret labs.”
“Or maybe they’d clone her and make her into a weapon,” added Nate a little too eagerly. “Send her off to fight in the war. Like in that book where they use dragons to fight Napoleon. That was so cool.”
“Cool in a book, but not real life,” Luke broke in, giving Nate a reprimanding look. “Don’t worry,” he assured Trinity. “We’re on your side. Anything you need, we can hook you up.”
“Um, thanks. But I really don’t think I need—”
“Hey, Luke,” Nate interjected, nodding his head to the left. “Don’t look now but the lamestream media is about to crash our party.”
Trinity followed his gesture, letting out a dismayed gasp as she recognized a brightly colored CBS news van pulling into the Wal-Mart parking lot, followed by NBC and FOX.
Luke glared at Nate. “Did you forget to mask the geocode when you uploaded the van shot again?”
Nate looked offended. “No way, dude,” he said. “I’m a professional. But um…” He glanced down at his phone. “Maybe they recognized the Wal-Mart in the background?”
“Good work, genius,” Luke retorted, smacking him upside the head. He gave Trinity an apologetic look. “We need to get you out of here. Fast. Or you’re going to end up on the evening news.” He turned to Natasha. “Get the truck! Quick!”
Trinity glanced over at the news vans, slowly cruising the parking lot, apprehension coursing through her. “I’ll just drive away before they see me,” she told Luke, making for her vehicle.
“Not a good idea,” Luke said shaking his head. “They know what your van looks like. Everyone does. If you pull out of the parking lot now, they’ll totally see you. And they will chase you down.”
“You’re kind of, like, the story of the century, you know,” Natasha added a little apologetically.
Trinity glanced at the live trucks with growing dismay. “Then what I am supposed to do?” she asked. “I can’t just leave Emmy here.”
“Of course not,” Luke replied. “But don’t worry. We’ll just load her up in our truck and sneak both of you out. We can come back for the van later.”
Trinity frowned. “So you expect me to just go with you?” she asked. “I don’t even know you.”
“And you won’t have a chance to get to know us if you don’t come with us now,” Luke pointed out. “Because the cops will come, and you will be locked up, and they will throw away the key.”
“You’re not only the story of the century,” added Nate. “You’re, like, America’s most wanted, yo.” He posed in exaggerated, fake gangster style.
Trinity bit her lower lip. As much as she’d like to deny it, she knew they were right. And though it was risky to trust these strangers, it would be even riskier to stay behind and get caught. Making up her mind, she dashed to the back of the van, unlocking and opening up the door. A moment later she found herself face-to-face with Emmy, who was blinking uneasily in the sudden bright sunshine.
We’ve got trouble, Em. We’re going to have to switch vehicles, okay?
Emmy looked at her in alarm. We’re going to leave the van?
It was the last thing Trinity wanted to do. The van was the last connection she had to her grandpa. His rust bucket pride and joy. If they left it behind now, there was no telling what would happen to it—along with everything she owned inside.
But then she caught sight of the news trucks, turning into their row. “We have no choice,” she told the dragon. “We’re running out of time.”
For a moment Emmy stared back at her doubtfully. But finally she nodded her head. Trin let out a breath of relief as the dragon flapped her wings and half flew, half jumped into the cab of the pickup that had pulled up behind the van. Once she was inside, Trin slammed the door behind her.
“Okay,” she said, turning to Luke and his friends, who she realized were gawking at her with astonished faces. She gave them a puzzled look. “What?”
“I can’t believe it!” Nate whispered. “It was her. It was really her.”
Oh. Right. Of course. Emmy had become so familiar to Trin at this point, sometimes she forgot how exotic she actually was.
“I’ve seen the dragon with my own two eyes.” Natasha made a mock swoon. “I could totally die now and I wouldn’t even care.”
“Or, you know, you could stay alive and get us the hell out of here,” Trinity suggested wryly. “Anytime now would be great, in fact.”
“Right. Let’s do it!” Luke cried, dashing to the passenger side and popping open the door. Trinity hoisted herself up and dove into the backseat, with Natasha and Nate piling in behind her. Luke ran around to the driver’s seat.
“Free Emmy!” he crowed as he dove in and turned the key in the ignition.
“Dot com!” chorused his two friends, high-fiving one another as he stepped on the gas and they pulled away.
Trinity glanced back at Emmy, who was peering at her with marked skepticism.
I don’t know either, Ems, she said with a sigh. But it beats being caught, right?
The truck pulled away seconds before the news vans pulled up. Trinity craned her neck to watch as reporters and cameramen spilled out of the vehicles, surrounding the van, cameras rolling. A moment later, they were followed by a few police cars. Thankfully none of them seemed to notice the lone truck rolling out of the parking lot and onto the street.
Her heart ached in her chest as they pulled out of sight. Oh, Grandpa.
“You okay?” Natasha asked, catching her look.
“Yeah,” she said, shaking herself. “And thank you. I appreciate the rescue.”
“Of course,” Luke said. “We appreciate the chance to help.” He glanced over at her with a small grin, brushing his bleached blond hair from his black eyes. “After all, that’s what the Order of the Dracken is for!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Trinity’s heart lurched. She looked from Luke to Nate and Natasha, then back to Luke again.
“Excuse me?” she managed to stammer.
Had they really just said what she thought they’d said? There was no way. Absolutely no way.
Except, what if there was?
“I…thought you said your website was
Free Emmy.”
“Our website, yeah,” Luke agreed. “But we already sorta had a group name. You see, we originally all got together because of this video game we play. It’s called Fields of Fantasy and—”
“She knows Fields of Fantasy, you tool,” Nate interrupted. “Remember? We looked up her character?” He gave Trinity a slightly accusing look. “We tried to friend you like five different times.”
“I…haven’t been able to play lately,” Trinity sputtered, her mind whirring with the implications of what the boys were saying. “I’ve been a bit…busy.”
“Of course you have!” Natasha agreed comfortingly, giving her brother a dirty look. “After all, who has time for video game dragons when you have the real thing?” She giggled, peering into the back of the truck where Emmy was pacing nervously.
“Anyway, yeah, so you remember the Dracken Heights dungeon that they put into the ex pack, right?” Luke continued. “The dragon one? That was the first dungeon we rocked as a group. When we formed our guild, it seemed like a natural name.” He grinned at his gamer buddies.
Trinity somehow managed a weak smile, even though on the inside she felt like throwing up. She thought of all the movies she’d seen about time travel over the years. The ones where despite everything you tried to do, things ended up exactly the same in the end. The ripples you made in the pond weren’t enough to stop the huge-ass tsunami on approach.
According to Caleb and Connor, she’d gone and founded the Order of the Dracken the first time around, after discovering the abuse Emmy was suffering under the hands of the government. But since the government never took Emmy this time, there had been no reason for the Dracken to ever be formed.
And yet, here it was. Here they were. A group who had formed for the sole purpose to “free Emmy” just like before. Could something like that possibly be a coincidence? Or was the time line trying to smooth itself back out? If only Connor or Caleb were here, they might be able to explain the significance—or hopefully insignificance of something like this. But she was alone.
She realized Natasha was staring at her worriedly. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”
It was funny; when she thought of the Dracken now, she pictured Darius and Mara and their strange dragon-worshiping friends from the future. But the original Dracken hadn’t been a bunch of cult crazies looking to purge the world by fire. Just a couple of kids who wanted save the dragons.
Kids like Luke, Nate, and Natasha.
She didn’t know whether that was a comforting thought—or a more worrying one.
In any case, there was nothing she could do now, and at least she knew she was in no immediate danger. So she forced herself to settle into her seat and not look longingly back at the Wal-Mart as it disappeared in the distance. She harbored no hopes of returning to her van; by evening, she was positive it would be impounded by local police or Homeland Security. All she had left now were literally the clothes on her back…and her dragon in the back of the truck.
They headed down a main road, lined with strip malls for a few miles, then drove into a neighborhood of modest, flat-roofed adobe houses, shaded by a decent number of trees. Luke pulled up to a small bungalow, enclosed by a chain-link fence. Parking in the driveway, he ushered everyone out then headed toward the garage’s side door. Trinity went around to the back of the truck and opened it. Emmy blinked at her, still looking a little worried, but she obligingly hopped down and padded into the garage.
Trinity stepped inside behind her, not sure what to expect. What she wasn’t expecting was the garage to have been converted into the ultimate geek cave. Vintage Star Wars posters hung over threadbare couches, while rickety computer desks were piled high with cables and mice and monitors and other equipment. And the pièce de résistance, at the center of the room was a huge projector screen TV.
“Welcome to the Dracken Lair,” Nate pronounced, coming in behind her. “Where all the magic happens.”
“Yeah, you wish you could get some magic to happen,” Natasha scoffed, following them inside. She turned to Trinity. “The only kind of females he ever manages to score are pixelated.”
“Oh yes, but you’ve got all the dudes knocking down your door,” Nate shot back. “What with your sexy mastery of Tolkien Elvish and all.”
“What’s that?” Trinity interrupted, her eyes locking onto a bulletin board across the room covered with newspaper clippings and computer printouts. She stepped closer, startled to see a collage of photos of herself thumbtacked to the board. From last year’s high school yearbook picture to an action shot from an old track meet, to a shot of her standing in front of the museum for the debut of Grandpa’s unfortunate Chupacabra Corpse exhibit that she’d actually managed to get some press to come out for. (She’d later had to issue an apology when the corpse in question turned out to be nothing more than the remains of a mangy coyote.)
In addition to photos, there were newspaper articles, with headlines blazing about Emmy’s touchdown of terror. Some of these articles came from legitimate old-school newspapers like the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal. Others looked a little more conspiracy theory–esque.
But it was the photos tacked under the headline “Emmy?” that really intrigued her. Some had obviously been taken at the football field the day Emmy made her grand debut. Others seemed to be screenshots of Emmy taken in some kind of woods. Still others were completely unrecognizable and didn’t look anything like the dragon. Blurry shadows rising above trees, glowing eyes in a dark cave…
“What are these?” she asked curiously.
Luke peered over her shoulder. “Eh,” he said. “Most likely fakes. We’ve been getting a lot of those lately, as our hits have gone up. In fact, there have been close to a thousand Emmy sightings reported since the whole football game thing.” He laughed. “Our girl makes more appearances than a dead Elvis these days.”
“It’s our job to investigate each and every sighting,” Natasha chimed in. “They need to be verified before we put them up on our site. After all, we have a reputation to uphold,” she added a little proudly.
“Right,” Trin said, swallowing hard. “A reputation.”
“Check it!” Nate cried from the other side of the room. He’d sidled up to one of the computers and had pulled up MSNBC and FOX News, running both streaming videos from different browser windows. Trinity watched with sinking dread as video of the van she’d recently abandoned popped up simultaneously on both screens.
“According to police, this van is registered to Charles Foxx, the man who is wanted by Homeland Security in connection with an alleged terrorist plot,” the announcer was saying. “Police have evacuated the parking lot until the bomb squad can make a sweep.”
A photo of her grandfather popped up on the screen, making Trinity’s heart ache all over again. It was hard to believe it’d been only a little over a week since the barn fire in Vista. It seemed like both yesterday…and a lifetime ago. Would it ever stop hurting her heart to see his face? She wondered if he was looking down on her now from somewhere. Keeping watch over her and Emmy. She smiled a little at the idea of her guardian becoming her guardian angel.
The reporter had finished talking, and the station rolled the video, beginning with a rather unattractive junior high photo of Trinity when she was still in her braces. (Seriously, that was the best they could dig up?) The photo was followed by a grainy video of the Vista football field, replaying someone’s home video of her jumping on Emmy’s back and flying through the skies. Trinity still couldn’t believe she’d actually gone and done that. It looked ten times as dangerous from this third person perspective as it had felt at the time. And it had felt pretty damn dangerous then too.
But I didn’t let you fall, Emmy reminded her. She could feel the dragon nudge her leg and she looked down. She smiled at her.
“That’s very true,” she said, scratching her snout. �
�You did good.”
She looked back up to see the three kids staring at her in amazement.
“What?” she asked, a little confused.
“You just answered her, didn’t you?” Natasha said in an awed whisper. “She talked to you with her mind and you answered her!” She let out an excited whoop. “Oh my God, it’s just like Eragon and Saphira! Or one of those Anne McCaffrey books. Trinity, you’re like Lessa! A twenty-first century Lessa and Ramoth! Or maybe Laurence and Temeraire—”
“And now you see why she doesn’t get many dates,” Nate concluded smugly, giving his sister an affectionate look.
Trinity laughed uneasily then turned her attention back to the computer monitor. The reporter had come back on camera.
“Authorities are asking the people of Fauna to stay indoors and use extreme caution,” she was saying. “The creature is considered extremely dangerous. If you do have any information, please call 911.”
“Yeah, I don’t think we’re going to be doing that,” scoffed Natasha, pointing a remote control at the monitor. The volume muted. Natasha gave Trinity a comforting look. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’re safe with us.”
“How can you be sure?” Trinity asked doubtfully, glancing at the closed garage door. After all, what if someone had seen them leave the parking lot and had followed them here? Were they, even now, only moments away from being surrounded by a SWAT team? Once again she wished desperately for Connor or Caleb. Why had she thought it was a good idea to leave them behind? She turned to her new friends. “Do you have any guns?” she asked hopefully
“Please. We don’t need no stinking guns,” Luke scoffed. “We have computers.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Computers that shoot laser beams from their webcams?”
“Better.” Luke gestured to Nate. “Can you pull up that video we got the other day of Emmy at the Grand Canyon?”
“I thought we weren’t going to run that one,” Nate said, jabbing at the keyboard anyway. “We couldn’t determine origin.”
