by Bryan Davis
“I am not a coward. I am simply careful.” Tamiel fired the gun a third time. The dot zinged into Bonnie’s hand. A tiny stream of blood spurted, then immediately ceased. She let Matt go and grasped her wrist, groaning.
Matt dropped to a crouch and squinted at his jacket’s sleeve. Although the pain in his arm wasn’t nearly as bad as he expected, it might be better to stay put and be ready to pounce at the first opportunity. Obviously this monster wouldn’t hesitate to shoot again.
“That should make you more compliant,” Tamiel said to Bonnie. “And this weapon serves another purpose. I can’t have you breaking your bonds with your song.”
Bonnie’s brow wrinkled. Her face paled. Sinking to her knees, she swayed from side to side. “I … I feel terrible.”
Matt slid close and grasped her arm, whispering, “I’ve got you.”
“You will feel it soon,” Tamiel said. “Since your jacket slowed the projectile, it will take a little while longer for you.”
A hundred insults erupted in Matt’s mind, but he swallowed them down. He had to push aside the hatred and concentrate. Since this winged freak expected him to succumb to pain, could that weapon be some sort of candlestone shooter? If so, maybe it was time for a bit of acting. Grimacing, he spiced his voice with a groan. “What did you shoot into me?”
“It is a predator that will consume your energy, a radiant vampire that feeds on the light in anthrozil blood. I assume that the one in Billy penetrated his brain, so he will likely die. Yours will merely incapacitate you.”
Matt laid a hand over his chest and wheezed. Rolling his eyes upward, he blinked rapidly and collapsed to a fetal position, his cheek against the floor and one eye slightly open. He let out a low groan, loud enough to communicate pain, but not so loud that it sounded phony.
Tamiel jerked Bonnie up by her arm and forced her to walk to the cell door. She staggered at his side, her legs unsteady. “It is time to go.”
At the doorway, the eye bomb pulsed light around Bonnie’s frame as she looked back over her shoulder. “I love you, Matt,” she called with a tortured voice. “Tell Billy I love him, too.”
As soon as Tamiel and Bonnie turned into the corridor and disappeared, Matt pushed up to his knees and crawled over to Billy. Light flashed across a pinhead-sized depression just above his left eyebrow. His respiration seemed strong and even.
Matt slid his hand into Billy’s. “Dad? Can you hear me?”
Billy squeezed his hand in return. “Must be … a candlestone.”
“Yeah. That’s what I was thinking. It looks like it’s embedded inside you, maybe in your brain.”
Billy’s words came out slow and fractured. “They must have created … synthetic ones. … Candlestones are light seekers … and my blood has … photoreceptors.”
“Right. If it’s in your brain, it’ll kill you. I have to get you out of here.”
“No. … You have to help your mother. … Don’t worry about me.”
The flashes of light grew stronger. Matt glanced at the door. The eye bomb rolled in and stopped within inches of his knees. Faking a convulsion, he collapsed on top of it, grabbed Bonnie’s discarded shirt from Billy’s hand, and wrapped the eye bomb with it.
As it squealed, he leaped to his feet and dragged Billy by his wrists out to the corridor. Keeping his footfalls quiet, he ran back into the cell, grabbed the candlestone from under the chains, and stuffed it into his pocket as he hurried back.
He slammed the inner door and slid the outer one closed, muffling the squeal and flooding the corridor with darkness. Grabbing Billy’s wrists, he began dragging him again, but he stepped on something that spun out from under his foot, making him fall to his side.
An explosion rocked the floor. As the vibrations subsided, Matt rose to his knees and ran his fingers across Billy’s head until he found his cheek. “Dad, are you still with me?”
Billy choked out, “Yes.”
He grasped Billy’s hand and scooted to his side. “With the explosion, they probably think we’re both dead. That should help.”
Billy tightened his grip. “I saw … what you did. … Good thinking.”
“I’ll try to find Mom, but I’m coming back to get you, too.”
“Never forget. … Your mother … is more important … than I am. She is … ” He exhaled and said no more.
“Dad?” In the darkness, the silence made it feel as if someone had closed a coffin over both of them. “Dad?”
He laid a hand over Billy’s chest. His heartbeat stayed strong, though erratic. How long could he last with that energy-eating vampire in his brain?
Rising to his feet, he pulled the candlestone from his pocket and used its light to search for the object he had tripped on. A black rod lay near a wall. Similar to a policeman’s baton, it could come in handy as a weapon.
He snatched it up and, leading again with the candlestone, jogged in the direction Tamiel had taken Bonnie, opposite from the way he had come in. With a few open and empty cells passing by as he plunged through the dark, cavernous hallway, the entire scene was surreal. He had found his parents after all this time, anthrozils no less, in a prison constructed to incarcerate dragons. Now both were in mortal danger, and saving either one seemed impossible.
As he continued, he reached under his shirt and probed for the candlestone’s entry point. Feeling a small lump under his skin, he pushed it back toward the wound and squeezed it out. It felt like a BB, smooth and round. He stuffed it into his pocket, not bothering to look at it.
After finding a door to a stairway, he shoved it open and climbed the steps, his legs heavy. As he ascended, a siren began to wail, muffled, as if coming from outside or from another floor. Something big had to be taking place somewhere, but what? The dragon attack? If so, maybe there was hope after all.
Summoning a burst of energy, he ran up the stairs, skipping one with each step as he clutched the baton tightly. It was time to go to war!
DRAGON ATTACK
After flying low across a sparse forest, lights from the prison facility came into Walter’s view, including a search lamp that swept the sky, apparently looking for approaching dragons. According to their plan, it should have been disabled by now.
“Sir Barlow,” Walter barked. “What happened to taking over the searchlight?”
A whispered voice replied. “I was delayed. I’ll have it done in a moment.”
Seconds later, the searchlight swung wildly, then stopped, pointing at a field inside the facility. Barlow’s voice returned, low and strained. “You are … all clear.”
“Sir Barlow! Are you hurt?”
“We had a scuffle … and the guard fired a shot. … I hope … no one heard it.”
“Just stay where you are. We’ll pick you up.”
“No.” Barlow strained with every word. “Do not … jeopardize the mission. … I will not … be here.”
“Barlow!” Walter shouted.
Silence ensued. After a few seconds, Lois interrupted. “I have registered this anomaly. Will you proceed?”
Walter nodded. “Proceed as planned.”
While Legossi and Gabriel broke away to the right, heading toward the tarp-covered weapons, the other three dragons continued straight ahead. When the research wing’s rooftop came into view, Makaidos’s voice buzzed through Walter’s tooth chip. “I sense danger at your landing point.”
“I do as well,” Thigocia said. “Walter, shall we shift to the alternate plan?”
“There’s probably danger everywhere. Why would this be different?”
“It is a pinpoint danger,” Makaidos said. “Perhaps an explosive trap. If there is one at the rooftop access, there might also be one at the main entry. Perhaps they have intercepted our plans.”
Walter called through the tooth transmitter. “Sapphira and Elam, pull back and make a slow orbit at treetop level. Give me a minute to think.”
All three dragons swung around a
nd began a low, curving flight pattern.
“Walter,” Lois said, “shall I patch an emergency phone call to you?”
“Is it Jared?”
“No. It is your wife.”
Walter’s heart thumped. “My wife! Yes! Send her through!”
A crackle sounded, then a scratchy, faraway voice. “Walter, it’s Ashley. No time for kissy talk. Listen. I’m at the top of the stairs leading to the research wing’s roof, and—”
“Be careful! Makaidos detected danger there. We’re orbiting over the forest until we figure out what to do.”
“Danger? There’s nothing up here but a pile of snow.”
“You’re on the roof now?”
“Yes, I … Wait a minute. I think I found the problem.”
Walter twisted to look back. As Thigocia swung around, the rooftop came into view again, veiled by the blowing snow. A woman dressed in jeans and a dark sweatshirt stood in the midst of a drift, a phone to her ear as she leaned over, apparently picking something up.
“It’s a candlestone,” she said, rising again.
Walter gazed at the woman. Although thinner than ever, Ashley still cut a lovely profile he could never mistake. His heart pounding, he cleared his throat to keep his voice in check. “That’s a bad sign. Why would a candlestone be there?”
Ashley set a fist on her hip and looked toward the interior of the compound. “Fuel for their secret munitions, maybe.”
“Secret munitions? What kind of—”
“Shhh! Just listen. Lauren and I picked up some chatter, so we know quite a bit, and I called the facility’s headquarters, mimicking a guard’s voice. I gave them the idea that your attack will be delayed, so they’re not too worried about their reinforcements getting through the blizzard on time. Maybe they’ll slow their pace. Anyway, I confirmed that they have some kind of underground munitions that’ll pop up when you attack a decoy.”
“A decoy? What decoy?”
“That’s what I was going to ask you. The Colonel seemed to think I should know what it was, so I didn’t want to risk blowing my cover.”
“I know what it is.” Walter barked into his transmitter. “Gabriel! Can you hear me?”
Gunshots sounded, coming from the direction of the targeted weapons cache.
“Gabriel!”
No one answered. A strange popping noise pierced the snowfall, then a wailing siren.
Ashley waved from the roof. “Go back! It is a trap!”
In the prison yard beyond Ashley, the snow pushed up in a rectangular shape, as if a platform elevator were rising from a subterranean shaft. Underneath the former ground level, cannon-like barrels aimed toward the sky and shot laser beams into the storm.
* * *
Legossi ducked under a searchlight beam and flew low over a series of one-story barracks-like buildings. Ahead, in a football field–sized gap between two sets of barracks, tarp-covered protrusions came into view. Two men in heavy parkas with fur-lined hoods swept snow from the tarps.
“Do you see them?” Gabriel asked as he drew a handgun.
“I do.” Legossi beat her wings harder, accelerating against the brutal winds. “We cannot allow the men to warn anyone of our arrival. They will be our first targets.”
“Just go for the weapons. When we destroy them, our arrival will be obvious. No need to kill if we don’t have to.”
“Very well. I will try to blast through the tarp.” Now within range, Legossi blew a torrent of flames at the closest weapon. The fire splashed against the side, instantly melting a thin layer of snow and igniting the tarp. The two men threw down their brooms and pulled short-barreled rifles from underneath their parkas. Sparkling white radiance swirled within the semitransparent guns, as if they were absorbing the surrounding light and pulling it into a whirlpool.
Before they could fire, Gabriel shot at both men, striking one in the thigh, then used his wings to lift away from Legossi’s back. While Legossi continued blasting the weapons, Gabriel flew straight at the men, but before he could aim, the uninjured soldier discharged his gun, making a hollow popping sound. A sparkling dot flew out and thumped into Gabriel’s shoulder. He snapped backwards and fell to the tarp. Legossi charged toward the soldier, leading with a wave of white-hot flames. Just before the fire reached him, the solider shot again and dropped to avoid the blast.
Legossi fell, rolling over both soldiers and dragging the tarp and Gabriel along. When she finally stopped, Gabriel climbed to his feet and ran toward her. A siren blared, and the noise seemed to penetrate his skin and shake his bones. His shoulder ached, but it felt more like he had been punched by a fist than pierced by a bullet.
When he reached Legossi, she swung her neck around and cast her eyebeams on him. Both soldiers lay motionless next to her. “How bad is your wound?” she asked.
“Not bad. It looks like we succeeded.”
“Look again. It seems that we have been duped.” Her eyebeams shifted to one of the protrusions, a burning heap of pasteboard wrapped around a wire frame.
“Fake?” Gabriel took a step toward the phony gun, but the pain in his shoulder spiked and shifted toward his spine. He dropped to his knees, gasping. “Legossi, it must be one of the candlestone bullets. It feels like it’s crawling around inside me.”
“He shot me at the base of my neck. How it penetrated my scales, I do not know, but I feel the same kind of crawling pain.” She spread out her wings. “Use your wings to help you mount. We must do all the damage we can before the candlestones cripple us.”
* * *
Lauren held the knob as tightly as she could. As Stella twisted it from the other side, the metal slowly slipped through Lauren’s fingers. Finally, she flung the door outward, slammed it into Stella, and shoved her against the wall. She smacked Stella in the face with the flashlight and sprinted toward the stairwell.
A pop sounded, and a sparkling sphere flew by, narrowly missing her head. Guided by the flashlight beam, she ran through the doorway and down the steps. When she reached the first floor, she dashed into the hall, then slowed to a jog as she searched for an exit.
After a few seconds, a door came into view. Digging for another burst of speed, she flew out the door and into the snowstorm. With everything coated in blankets of white, it took a few seconds to get her bearings. A jeep sat to her left, and a fence with a gate stood straight ahead. That had to be the fence separating the maximum and minimum security areas, and she was standing on the road she had crossed to get to the alley between the two buildings.
She ran to the gate and whispered the numbers as she punched them in. “Five, seven, four—”
A voice from her tooth transmitter interrupted. “Is it Jared?”
Lauren touched her jaw. That sounded like Walter.
“My wife!” Walter shouted. “Yes! Send her through!”
Lauren shook her head. No time to answer. She had to ignore the chatter and get away.
She tapped her jaw twice, silencing the voice, then restarted the combination, again whispering, “Five, seven, four, one—”
A stab of pain shot across her scalp. She flew backwards and slid in the snow. With her back to the research wing, Stella let go of Lauren’s hair and set a heavy boot on her shoulder, a gun pointed at her. “If you move a muscle, I will stomp you.”
Lauren shivered but managed a tone of defiance. “You won’t kill me. I heard that Tamiel would cut your heart out.”
“Oh, not Tamiel. And it’s true that I won’t kill you, but I don’t mind disfiguring you until you submit. Someone wants your—”
A thud sounded, and Stella lurched to the side. Matt stood where Stella had been, a baton clutched tightly in his hand. He grabbed Lauren’s wrist and pulled her to her feet. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just cold and wet.” Lauren raised her hood. “How are you?”
“No serious injuries.” He rotated his left arm. “Sore here and there from a couple of bulle
t wounds.”
“Bullet wounds?”
“I’ll explain later. I heard more guards inside.” He nodded at the fence. “Ready to climb?”
“I know the combination.” Blinking at the windblown flakes, she punched the numbers again—five, seven, four, one, three. When the gate popped ajar, she shoved it through a pile of snow just enough for her and Matt to squeeze through. They ran together along a road between two sets of barracks, heading toward the Colonel’s office. Ahead, an open field lay beyond the barracks, and a searchlight’s beam illuminated the center, as if stuck in place.
They stopped and looked around. As Matt scanned the sky, his face grew pale and anxious. “Have you seen Bonnie? Tamiel took her. I have to find them.”
“Tamiel took her? That’s terrible!”
“Tell me about it.” Matt waved the baton toward the medical wing. “And my father’s hurt back in the dungeon. Everything’s falling apart, and fast.”
“Our father,” Lauren said, taking Matt’s hand.
“Yeah, I guessed that. But I haven’t told them yet.” He compressed her hand gently. “Dad told me finding our mother was more important than helping him.”
“If Tamiel has her. Definitely.” A sharp pain radiated up her arm. She jerked her hand away. “Do you have a candlestone?”
“Two, actually.” He dug into his pocket and withdrew a closed fist. “One is just a little bullet, but they’ll both probably hurt you.” He threw the stones toward one of the barracks.
“That’s better.” Lauren reached into her pocket and felt for the leftover granola bar. “If you’re hungry, I have a—”
Gunshots sounded to the right. A popping noise followed, then the wail of a siren.
“Go back!” a woman shouted. “It is a trap!”
Lauren and Matt whirled toward the voice. Someone stood on the research wing’s roof, waving toward the rear of the prison.
A squealing noise made them spin again. In the field, a section of the snow-covered ground began to rise, as if powered by a hydraulic lift. As snow cascaded over the edge, a supporting column came into view, a black rectangular shaft, maybe ten by twenty feet. Since the sod on top was somewhat longer and wider than the shaft, it looked like a wide-brimmed hat riding on a vertically standing brick.
