by Bryan Davis
“We can try it,” Selah said as she took one of the rods. “We’ll know soon.”
A tank slammed into the fence in front of maximum security and bulldozed it down. Two more tanks followed, each one crunching the fallen chain links as it passed. Carrying rifles, dozens of men marched in the tank’s tracks.
Atop the lead tank, a man sat behind a mounted machine gun. As he swept it from right to left, a hail of bullets sprayed the sky above Matt and the two Listeners, apparently warning shots.
Above, a dragon dove through one of the gaping holes, then two more. The first dragon zoomed straight toward the lead tank. It blasted a fireball that narrowly missed the gunner and splashed into the hole at the top. As the dragon flew past, Walter leaped from its back and tackled the gunner, sending them both flying to the side. Smoke poured from the lead tank, and it stopped in its tracks. The other tanks halted, unable to pass on the narrow path between the sets of barracks.
As the ground troops shot at the dragon, it swung around and blew fiery streaks at them, staying in a wide orbit to avoid their bullets. From that distance, the dragon’s flames did little damage, but they kept the soldiers distracted.
Matt touched his cheek. “Lauren, what’s going on? I can’t see you anymore.”
“She’s going to put me in one of the tanks.” Her whisper was barely audible. “She said something about keeping her prize safe. With all the dragons and bullets flying around, I don’t think I’m going to argue too much.”
“Listen. I’ll see if I can call off the dragons and—”
“Don’t! If you do, we’ll never get out of here. I’ll hunker down. Don’t worry about me.”
The other two dragons orbited the laser weapons column, blasting fountains of fire at the guns as they beat their wings to fan the flames. One of the riders, a white-haired female, threw fireballs into the furious cyclone. With all but two of the guns still shooting laser beams, the blend of flames and radiant light created a dazzling display of pulsing, swirling energy.
While the Listeners lifted their rods and began a song, Matt eyed the two darkened guns, the same two he and Lauren had mounted. Since Portia had taken the control gloves, she had to be the one who shut the guns down. She might still be inside the weapons column.
Before Matt could shout a warning to the dragons, a loud pop sounded. The column vanished, leaving a rectangular hole in the ground. The remaining dome of light collapsed, and the entire compound dimmed, now lit only by the single searchlight and a few flood lamps attached to the buildings.
Matt took a heavy step backwards. The entire column had disintegrated, and Portia with it!
As snow pelted Matt’s head, the two dragons broke away from their orbit and flew toward the tanks. A male rider stood on his dragon’s back, leaped to the ground, and rolled in the snow. When he popped up to his feet, he ran to Matt. Snowflakes fell from his mop of tawny hair as he gasped through his words. “I’m Elam, and the white-haired woman riding on Roxil is Sapphira. I think the lasers and flames created a portal where the weapons were. If we can get the soldiers close enough to the portal, Sapphira and the dragons might be able to transport them somewhere else.”
“Where?” Matt asked.
“Another world, I hope. At this point, we’ll take anywhere but here. While we were in the sky, I saw a convoy of vehicles coming down the road. They’re stuck behind a snow plow, so we have some time, but not much. We just need to get everyone out of here as fast as possible.”
“How are we going to draw the soldiers close enough? They can’t go anywhere right now.”
“If we can keep them where they are, we can try to move the portal to them. With the dragons’ help, I think Sapphira can do it.”
“Then we have to get Lauren and Walter out of there first,” Matt said.
Walter’s voice buzzed through Matt’s tooth. “I’ve been listening.” Grunts peppered his words. “Get it started. I’ll try to find Lauren.”
Matt looked at the oncoming troops. One of the trailing tanks had smashed two of the barracks on the right side. While several women fled from the ruined buildings and began pounding on nearby doors, the tank rumbled back to the path.
While two dragons continued the onslaught around the tanks and soldiers, slowing their progress, one flew back and landed next to Joran and Selah.
“Makaidos!” Joran lowered his rod. “It’s you!”
Makaidos bowed his head. “Shall we go to battle again?”
Joran looked at Matt. “We will probably do more good as a sword than as a shield.”
Waving a hand, Matt nodded. “Sounds good. Go.”
Joran gave Selah the lyre, scrambled up Makaidos’s back, and helped her climb to a seat behind his.
The new lead tank fired. A glittering ball shot out and thumped into one of the circling dragons. Sapphira grabbed a protruding spine to keep from falling off.
“Roxil!” Makaidos called.
Wobbling in flight, Roxil reversed course and headed toward Makaidos. She crashed and slid through the snow, stopping almost within reach. Sapphira leaped off and knelt close to Roxil. Flames erupting from her hands, she massaged the dragon’s neck.
Elam smacked Makaidos’s flank. “Go! Join Thigocia. I’ll look after Roxil.”
Now within two hundred feet, the lead tank stopped and fired again. The shining missile zinged by, narrowly missing Makaidos. Beating his wings, he launched toward it. Dozens of men swarmed around the tank and shot at him. Bullets clinked against his scales and ricocheted, driving him into a faltering flight pattern.
The tank’s gun shifted, following Makaidos and Thigocia. The two dragons blew a storm of flames at it and began an orbit around the entire company. A riderless dragon joined the fray, also blowing a fury of orange.
“Legossi is here,” Elam said as he helped Sapphira to her feet. “They should be enough to move the portal. Sapphira can begin the migration from the old laser weapons site.”
“Start the process.” Matt drew his gun. “I’m getting Lauren.” He took off down the path, keeping his head low. When he reached the tanks and soldiers, a ten-foot-high wall of fire surrounded the entire company, swirling as the three dragons flew in an orbit that hemmed in all three tanks and every soldier.
From a foot or so above and outside the cyclone, they spewed torrent after torrent of fire into the spin, their wings fanning the upper part of the flames and their tails whipping the wall close to the ground.
Matt halted near the wall. Shots rang out from within. Bullets and candlestones flew at the dragons, but they zipped by so quickly, the projectiles either missed or glanced off armor. A soldier leaped through the wall. With his clothes on fire, he dove into the snow and rolled. White vapor flew upward, and after a few seconds, he lay motionless.
“Walter,” Matt called. “Where are you?”
A reply buzzed in his transmitter. “Standing on top of the middle tank. After I fought the gun operator, I hustled back to see if Lauren was here, but no luck. Not even the driver’s inside. It’s a madhouse down on ground level. It’s so hot, the soldiers all stripped down to their uniforms. They’re in a state of panic, and they’re shooting wildly. If they settle down, they might figure out that they can drive a tank through the flames and break the firestorm.”
Matt looked back at the field. Sapphira stood in front of the former weapons column site, her hands raised. An instant later, a spinning cocoon of flames surrounded her. A tongue of fire shot out in an arc, spanning the two-hundred-foot gap, and melded with the dragons’ swirling flames. Sapphira and her flames drifted toward them, melting the snow as she advanced.
“Where’s Gabriel?” Matt asked. “He could fly in there and help you get Lauren out.”
Walter grunted, as if throwing a punch. “No idea. I haven’t heard a word out of him.”
“Legossi!” Matt shouted. “Where’s Gabriel?”
As Legossi zoomed by, she spoke through her transmitt
er. “Gabriel and Ashley were carrying Billy out of the research wing’s lower level. The transmitters do not seem to work well there, so I doubt that we can reach them.”
“They’re still jamming communications in that building. We’ll have to rescue Lauren without them.”
When Makaidos swung around on their side of the cyclone, Joran and Selah leaped from his back and into the circle, disappearing behind the flames.
“Makaidos!” Matt called. “What are they doing?”
“They think they can rescue Walter and Lauren with a sound shield. Joran said something about a mercy song.”
With noise hammering his ears, Matt pressed a hand against his jaw. “I can’t count on two kids and a song to rescue them. I have to get in there.”
“I understand. Joran was concerned that he might not be able to remember the song.”
“Well, then, pick me up the next time you come around and drop me in there.”
“No! That would be madness.”
Matt looked back at Sapphira. Now about thirty paces away, she would arrive soon. He slid his gun behind his waistband and watched the dragons zoom by. Walter had mentioned how dangerous a tail mount could be, a feat requiring perfect timing whether from the ground or in the air.
As a sharp, spiny-topped tail whipped by in a blur, Matt’s heart thumped. Perfect timing? Probably. Insanity? Definitely.
When Makaidos flew by again, Matt sucked in a breath, jumped as high as he could, and grasped the tail with both arms. A sharp pain jabbed his hand, a spine piercing the heel. The wall of flames zoomed past. Hot wind whistled in his ears. He slid his arm up, freeing his hand from the spine. As the muscle cramped, blood flowed and dripped to the scales. “I’m not letting go!” he called. “Flip me to your back with your tail.”
“I see that I have no choice,” Makaidos grumbled. “Very well.”
Makaidos’s tail flipped, slinging Matt forward. He flew in a somersault and smacked against the dragon’s neck, facedown and riding backwards. Hugging the neck with both arms, he squirmed toward the back, swaying with every blast of fire Makaidos spewed. Fortunately, the spines bent toward the tail as he pushed over them, but any sudden bump might send him lurching in the opposite direction, and the spines would impale him.
Finally, he grasped a spine at the base of the neck and pulled himself down. Still riding backwards, he set his feet and rose to a standing position, a hand gripping the top of the spine. His legs wobbled, and his feet shifted as Makaidos’s body rode up and down with his wing beats. Soon, he steadied himself and looked inside the cyclone.
At ground level, at least a dozen men aimed their rifles at the dragons, constantly sweeping the barrels in arcs as they fired useless rounds. A few soldiers trembled, either wounded or terrified. Others lay in blackened heaps, smoke curling up from their charred bodies.
Walter, Joran, and Selah stood atop the middle tank. Joran and Selah locked arms and held their sonic rods and the lyre while they sang. Joran shook his head, apparently frustrated.
Outside the cyclone, Sapphira approached, now visible within her firestorm, her arms high as she waved them in a circle. She was only seconds away. Next to one of the barracks, the Captain braced himself against the building’s frame while he helped a female prisoner to her feet. It seemed clear that he was no longer in a position to command the troops.
Matt eyed the last of the three tanks, motionless, apparently nonoperational. A five-foot-long section of rope dangled from its open hatch. He picked out a spot to land and leaped as far as he could. As he sailed over the fire, inertia carried him beyond his target. He landed feetfirst on a charred body and rolled with his momentum through the mud and against one of the rear tank’s tracked wheels.
A soldier aimed his rifle at him. “Get up!”
As Matt rose, he scooped a handful of mud and slung it in the soldier’s face. He caught the gun barrel and ripped it away, spinning the soldier around. With a kick to his backside, Matt shoved him into the mire.
Dripping mud, Matt dropped the rifle and scrambled up the tank. Staying out of view of whoever might be inside, he picked up the dangling rope and peered in. Semiramis and Lauren crouched together, looking through the front viewport. Now dressed in a camo uniform, Semiramis kept her stare locked straight ahead.
Coiled at the floor, the rope hung close to Semiramis’s head. If he could loop it around her neck and jerk back, maybe he could disable her, but with throbbing pain in the heel of his hand, could he pull hard and fast enough?
Bullets zinged all around. One nicked his jacket, ripping a hole in the sleeve. No time to think about it. Stooping low, he wrapped the rope around his waist and tied it as tightly as pain would allow. He peeked into the hatch again, spun the rope around Semiramis’s neck, and leaped off the tank.
He halted in midair, his back scraping the tank’s side. After a quick spin, he braced his feet and climbed the rope. Keeping the line taut, he knelt at the opening. Semiramis hung inside, her head caught at the hatch’s lip. Gagging and spitting, she clawed at the makeshift noose.
Matt reached in with his good hand and hauled her out by her collar. He threw her down on her back and planted a foot on her chest. “Don’t move!”
She closed her eyes, and her arms fell limp. Lauren climbed out of the hatch, her wrist still tied and the rope coil in her arms.
“Are you all right?” Matt asked.
She showed him three long scratches on the back of her hand. Blood trickled down her wrist and behind her sleeve. “She clawed me, and the bullet wound hurts like crazy, but I think I’ll be okay.”
Matt pushed her to a crouch. “We’d better get back inside. I’ve never operated a tank before, but if I can figure it out, we can break through the ring of fire.”
“That might take too much time.” Lauren touched her cheek. “I heard the chatter. Joran’s trying to sing the mercy song. A protective shield might be the only way to save us all.”
Atop the tank in front of theirs, Walter stood next to Joran and Selah, his gun extended. As Walter shot at anyone who dared aim their way, Joran again shook his head in frustration.
“It looks like he’s having trouble,” Matt said.
“I need to get to him. I might be able to help him remember the song.”
Matt spotted the rifle he had dropped. “When we get down, you take off, and I’ll guard your back.”
“What about the rope?”
He pulled at the knot, but the fall from the tank had tightened it. “Can’t get it loose.” He showed her the heel of his hand. “Dragon spine speared me.”
“Same problem. The knot’s too tight, and I can’t grip it.”
Matt touched his pocket. Ashley had taken the knife. Cutting the rope with a sharp edge of the tank would probably take too long. “Just go for it. I think there’s enough rope.”
After unwinding the loop from Semiramis’s neck and dropping the coil to the ground, they joined hands and jumped. While Lauren ran to Walter’s tank, Matt snatched up the rifle and flattened himself against the tank. As the coil fed the rope out smoothly, he watched the soldiers. Still distracted by the dragons, they barely looked at her. After all, why shoot an unarmed girl? Yet, if he sprang out with a rifle, they might take deadly notice.
Matt studied the gun’s firing mechanism. Coated with mud, it looked suspect. Aiming at the sky, he pulled the trigger. Nothing. Jammed. He threw the rifle down. Now what? “Maybe it would be better to stay put until Joran and Selah created the barrier. If they failed, he could try to commandeer the tank. With only moments remaining, it might be their only hope of escape.
THE MERCY SONG
Lauren rushed to the tank. Standing on top of the wheel track, Walter met her with an outstretched arm and hoisted her up. “Stay low,” he said. “The soldiers are leaving us alone for the most part, but we can’t take any chances.”
Lauren steeled her body to ward off the shakes. “Does Joran remember the song?
”
“Not enough of it.” He touched the rope. “Want me to untie it?”
“No time. Let’s go.”
When they reached the top, Walter shouted. “Matt! Get the gunner!”
A new gunner had taken the seat behind the rear tank’s mounted machine gun and aimed it at the dragons. Matt scrambled up, jerked the soldier out of his seat, and tumbled with him down the tank’s side and into the mud. The slurry covered most of the rope, hiding the section on the ground from view.
As they fought, Walter took aim at Matt’s opponent. “I can’t get a good shot.” He touched Lauren’s arm. “Just do what you have to do. I’ll help him.”
While Walter climbed down, Lauren shifted in front of Joran and Selah. “How much of the song can you remember?”
“Only a few notes.”
“Give me the lyre,” Lauren said, reaching for it. “Keep trying. I’ll see if it comes to me.”
After Joran handed it to her, Lauren set her fingers on the strings and closed her eyes. The roar of swirling fire, shouts of angry men, and sporadic gunshots combined in a riotous swell in her mind. Concentrate! You have to remember the tune. You just have to.
She began plucking the strings in turn. With each note, thoughts and images took shape. The sounds around her slowed, as if played well below their normal speed. With the violet and indigo strings, Bonnie and Ashley appeared, risking their lives for her sake. With the blue string, Walter came to mind, leaping from a dragon to tackle a tank gunner. With the green and yellow strings, her dreams about Joran and Selah repeated. They toiled within the ovula trying to help others while being in a prison themselves. When she played the orange string, the image of Matt appeared as he faced the prison guards while Bonnie flew her to safety.
When she plucked the red string, the dream image of the woman in the courtyard flashed in her memory. She stood there weeping, stones scattered around her feet, the very stones that other sinners hoped to dash against her head. Then, she sang her mercy song. The resurrected tune flowed through Lauren’s soul, stirring the flood of beautiful images the lyre’s strings had summoned, reflections of the great mercy God had shown to her through the love of others. New words emerged in her mind, her own mercy song, and the passion within her soul erupted, bringing with it the pain, the heartaches, and the fears and doubts of restless uncertainty. Even though she had spent years in foster care, even though her adoptive parents and best friend had been brutally murdered, even though she had suffered horrific torture in recent hours, hope rang true. She was loved, and she was forgiven for ever doubting the one who loved her.
