Boston Posh

by Wol-vriey

  He peered downward, made out the fiberglass head of the dragon peering into the open door of the last carriage.

  The dragon was equally inquisitively staring up at him.

  It wasn’t very large—about horse-sized. That meant it would be able to get through the train door if it was hungry.

  It was.

  The dragon reached one foreleg into the train, then another. Digging transparent claws into metal, it pulled itself inside.

  Malone began climbing rapidly back up through the carriage.

  He made it through the upper door just as the dragon got its shoulders fully inside the train and spouted fire up at him. He leapt aside; orange flames streamed past him. Once the blaze subsided, he quickly slammed the carriage door shut and resumed climbing.

  Behind/below him, the dragon pushed the door up with its head. The heat in the carriage rose as it spewed flame around the opening, thinking Malone stood there. It levered the door fully open, began clambering up.

  Now it was a race against time, with Malone just managing to make it through each successive upper doorway before the dragon entered the one below and attempted frying him again.

  In the topmost carriage, Malone sealed and locked the lower door. The metal clearly wouldn’t withstand a sustained burst of fire, but melting it away would buy him some time.

  A rain of cement now began, as the beetle, sensing the dragon invading its body, attempted to neutralize it.

  ***

  Heat bubbles began forming on the locked door below Malone. He imagined he could hear the dragon belching its frustration at the metal, impatient to be through to him.

  Malone’s only option now was to reenter Traven, take his chances with evading its police. He began climbing to the top of the carriage to access the elevator.

  The cement rain shattered two carriage windows below him. He was getting out just in time—the cement was as much a danger to him as the dragon. If he got stuck in it . . .

  He reached the top of the carriage. He was about pulling himself through, when a hand poked through the opening and gripped his wrist. The hand was followed a moment later by a hard lady-cop face.

  “Just tell me you’re Malone,” she said coldly.

  Her other hand appeared, waving a set of handcuffs.

  ***

  Malone reacted immediately, letting go of the door jamb. His sudden increase in weight made her let go of him.

  He dropped, caught a metal rail, sat on a seat back six seats down.

  Now he wished he’d brought the Trangel Masher along.

  “You’re in big trouble, mister,” the cop called down. “Real big trouble.”

  “You’ve no idea how big,” Malone replied. He pointed at the bubbling door below. “There’s a dragon on its way up.”

  The angel cop studied the indicated door, then looked at Malone. “So what are you waiting for? Let me help you up.”

  Malone shook his head. “Uh uh. I’d rather die than have sex with the likes of Blondie and Stacy for ever and ever and ever.”

  “Have it your way then.” She ducked out of sight as the dragon poked its head through a hole melted in the door and let off a burst of fire at them.

  Malone ducked back onto the seat, pressing himself close to the window.

  Staring at the heat-rippled air as the tongues of flame subsided like a stove being turned down, he wondered what it was with him and dragons . . . reptiles in general: First Yang Yang, then porcelain Posh, then the T-rex that ate his arm, now this.

  The cop’s voice came to him. “Listen, Malone, it needs a few seconds to refill its hot-chambers between each burst. Try to make it out after the next one.”

  The dragon was now busy ripping the remaining metal off the door frame.

  Shit, shit, shit, Malone thought, I really don’t want to die. I don’t want to marry trangels and become a human worm, either, but I really, really, really, REALLY do not want to friggin’ die.

  He decided to follow the policewoman’s advice. He’d have to escape her somehow, most likely jump her before she cuffed him.

  If you ladies think you’re making a sex toy person out of me, you’re raving mad!

  Then there was a loud knock on the window behind him.

  He turned around. He sagged in relief when he saw Glass Horse hovering there, tapping the glass with its hoof.

  Malone opened the window as the dragon forced its rainbow-lighting shoulders through the carriage door.

  “I’ve been looking all over the Afterwife for you,” Glass Horse said. “I became worried when you didn’t exit the club.”

  “Horse, I didn’t know you could fly.”

  “Now you do.”

  “Remember, Malone—make a dash after its next flare,” the policewoman called down. “I’ll try to distract it.”

  Malone didn’t hear her. He was already halfway out the train window, slipping onto Glass Horse’s back.

  “There’s a dragon coming,” he told it. “We need to get as FAR from here as possible, and fast.”

  “Done.” The transparent horse spun around and streaked away, galloping across the sky.

  CHAPTER 58

  Sara

  Immediately on leaving Malone’s office, Sara Fischer and the Forks translocated to his house to collect Posh.

  They materialized in the couple’s bedroom.

  Wow, Sara thought, looking around the charred space. Something really horrible happened here.

  The smell of burning was still thick in the air, along with a thin film of extinguisher foam on the floor. The odor of roast meat assaulted Sara. She fought not to gag from the stench.

  Lady Yaz floated over to Sara’s side. “Malone’s girlfriend isn’t in the house,” she said.

  Her words forced Sara’s mind off how sick the smell in the room was making her. “She’s not?”

  “No.”

  “We need to find that young woman, and fast,” Sara said. “Malone will be super-pissed if anything happens to Posh before he finishes your quest.”

  (Sara prayed fervently that Malone would evade Frank’s traps. She hoped he’d also kill the son-of-a-bitch. The psychopathic bastard. She hated Frank with a passion for turning Rachel against her.)

  “That cannot be allowed to occur,” Lord Tav said. “We will ask the dragons to look out for her.”

  Sara nodded. It was after all how they’d discovered Posh was a dragon in the first place.

  The trio vanished from Malone’s torched bedroom and instantly reappeared out west, up in the air over the Charles River Basin, amidst a flock of dragons.

  ***

  Floating in midair with transparent carnivorous reptiles all around her wasn’t Sara’s idea of fun. Below her blue water stretched like paint. Down to her left, Longfellow Bridge lay across the river. From this height it looked like a child’s toy train bridge.

  Sara knew she wasn’t in any danger of falling. The air under her feet felt solid—a glass platform. The wind whipped around her, at this height cold and chilling despite the bright sun.

  I don’t get it, she thought, instinctive anxiety bubbling in her as the dragons noticed the kitchen gods in their midst and began milling around the trio, why do they always have to bring me along on trips like this? Can’t they just leave me at home?

  Protected as she was by the Forks’ presence, Sara found it impossible to relax.

  Reflected in the dragons’ cold eyes now, she saw only Jeff Lincoln’s face. She remembered his tales of how Washington had been destroyed. Remembered too how her beloved David had been eaten by one of these monsters.

  She regarded the dragons, these streamlined fiber-glass creations from Heaven knew where, with their teeth as large as her body and their wings larger than those of jumbo jets, and shuddered.

  And yet, floating in the air, surrounded by the reptiles, the humorous incongruity of her current situation wasn’t lost on her.

  These creatures, these fucking monsters are responsible for destroying the modern
world, she thought. And here I am in their midst, accompanying a pair of Forks to a conversation on the whereabouts of a single missing young woman.

  ***

  Contrary to Malone’s fears, the Forks couldn’t read minds. They could sense human presence in their immediate vicinity up to a fifty meter radius. Beyond that, however, there was no difference between people, animals, and trees to them.

  So, by being in Malone’s bedroom, the Forks could tell Posh wasn’t in the house, but had no idea where she was.

  It had been the dragons themselves—not the Forks—who’d found Posh.

  During one of Lady Yaz and Lord Tav’s regular conversations with the alpha female dragon, it had informed them of a ‘strange creature’ it had discovered, one that was both ‘not-real-dragon’ and human female.

  The Fork pair had investigated the ‘strange creature’ and discovered it was Posh.

  ***

  To Sara’s relief, the throng of dragons dispersed, leaving just the massive alpha female, a huge beast with eyes the size of car windshields. The bolts holding its body together were the size of Sara’s fists.

  Wow! Sara thought, this damn thing is bigger than my house.

  While Sara studied the ripples on the river surface half a mile below, Lord Tav conversed with the alpha female. The dragon replied to the Fork in roars like thunder claps.

  Sara covered her ears to preserve her hearing, and wished the conversation quickly over.

  There were undigested skeletons in the alpha female’s transparent guts. Some were from massive fish, others dino skeletons. Sara winced on sighting several human skulls amongst them.

  Damn, she thought, what’s the world come to?

  She turned and walked off across the sky, leaving the Forks and alpha-female alone.

  The dragon herd was west, so she went east, towards the city.

  It felt really odd to walk on nothing. The very concept was scary. Sara pondered the limits of the Forks’ powers.

  She stopped over the river bank, directly over the skeleton of a crashed tugboat.

  Directly in front of her was Massachusetts General Hospital, now an expanse of roofless, windowless, fire-scoured buildings and collapsed walls.

  Sara remembered what had happened to the patients. The dragons had eaten their way through the wards of the sick like the hospital was a reptile restaurant.

  She shuddered and forced the horrid memory from her mind. She tore her gaze from the spifflicated hospital and looked farther inward—at Central Boston

  At this distance The Grid seemed a liquid mirror flowing between the buildings. It reflected the sky, so those residents who lived above it occasionally imagined they were in the clouds.

  The buildings themselves—both natural and artificial skyscrapers—looked like they stood in liquid metal.

  The sight was so breathtaking, Sara suddenly felt exhilarated.

  ***

  Finally, the Forks finished talking with the dragon matriarch. The glittering beast gave a last loud roar and flew off.

  Sara turned around at the sound. Seeing the alpha-female departing, she set off to rejoin the Forks, only for them to materialize in front of her after just two steps.

  “You startled me,” Sara said.

  “The dragons don’t know where Posh is,” Lady Yaz replied.

  “They don’t?”

  “No. They can only sense her when she is in dragon form herself. We’ve ordered them to keep a lookout for her and alert us immediately if she transforms.”

  “That,” Sara pointed out, “essentially means we have to wait till she’s eating someone before collecting her.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  The three faded from view en-route to the Fischer Mansion.

  CHAPTER 59

  Jade & Posh

  With a final scowl out of the window, Jade concluded Malone had chickened out of romancing Yang Yang.

  What a wimp, she thought.

  She looked over at the white statue. Wow, she’s gonna be super pissed this time.

  Jade was herself pissed-off at Malone’s no-show.

  It had taken her an hour’s persuasion to get Yang Yang to relent. The snake goddess had been adamant at first, insisting she wanted nothing more to do with ‘dragon cunt licker,’ then finally, delighted she’d get to have her way with Malone.

  And now, where the hell is Malone? Ah yes, ‘dragon cunt licking’ again.

  Jade winced. Malone had no idea what he was setting himself up for. Dude, you’ll be so high on Yang Yang’s shit list—you’ll be her toilet.

  She looked over at the Snake Lady statue, motionless and eerie beside the room’s inner door, and shrugged. I’ve done what I can.

  Jade couldn’t wait any longer.

  She had a date with her boyfriend, Mario—the Brazilian bartender at Tony Motta’s place.

  It was imperative that they talk heart-to-heart. Their relationship had been going good, but was now hitting a rough patch. Mario seemed to have commit-ment issues.

  Jade sniggered at that. All men have commitment issues. They’re utterly devoted to screwing us, but once we ask them to commit to the consequences of parting our legs and permitting access to our inner sanctum, they’ve always got baggage. She frowned. Mario had better listen to me this evening, or else . . .

  Then Jade saw the blue Lincoln parked outside the ring of prostitutes promenading on the chessboard.

  She groaned when Posh stumbled naked out of it, not even bothering to shut the car door behind her.

  Oh, not fucking today. Even from a distance ‘dragon cunt’ was clearly covered in blood.

  The jostle of hookers and prospective clients parted to let Posh through—an island of avoidance amidst their human sea.

  Watching her stagger toward the pagoda, Jade knew her soul-searching discussion with Mario wasn’t happening today.

  She forgot her date—Posh looked close to death.

  She rushed downstairs to help her.

  ***

  “Your back looks like a chopping board,” Jade said. “One made of meat.”

  “You don’t fucking say . . . yeow!”

  Jade removed bloodied fingers from over Posh’s spine and probed sideways, spreading the edges of Beth’s final slash between her ribs.

  “Fuck! Stop it!” Posh howled.

  “Sorry. Try to bear the pain. I need to find where you’re bleeding so much from.”

  Ironically, Posh currently lay on exactly the same spot as she had when she’d lost her skin and transformed into a dragon; only on her belly this time.

  “That’s a weird statue,” she said, noticing Yang Yang.

  “Malone likes it too,” Jade said, peering intently into the crevice between Posh’s ribs. “He practically loves it.” Then: “You don’t remember the goddess from the last time you were here?”

  Posh shook her head. “No. Goddess? What goddess?”

  “Forget it. Where’s Malone anyway?”

  “Didn’t see him this morning—he was gone when I woke up.”

  Jade nodded grimly. “Okay, I’ve found it. You’ve a cut vein in this slice between your ribs. It closes when you don’t move, so you won’t bleed then, but once—”

  “I’m really, really sorry, Jade.”

  “What?”

  Posh pointed weakly at Ma’s head in the cabinet, beside what was clearly a jar of dragonreich. She’d recognize that iridescent, rainbow-shimmering powder anywhere. “I didn’t mean to . . .” She began crying.

  “It’s okay,” Jade said, stroking Posh’s hair, “It just happened. Ma is still okay—she just needs another body.”

  She wiped Posh’s tears away. “Have you been okay since then?”

  Posh nodded. “I’m cured for good now.”

  Jade smiled back. “Hold on a moment, I’ll get something to stop the bleeding. A paper-lock—like that keeping Ma alive—will suffice; then I’ll clean you up.”

  ***

  Once Jade left, Posh’s att
ention instantly riveted on the bottle of dragonreich shelved beside Ma’s head. She’d never seen so much of the drug in one place before. From the way it sparkled, this was the pure uncut reich—possibly as much as Emil had murdered Sookie’s dealers for.

  The sparkling granules hypnotized Posh. Their glitter yanked her will out from under her like a carpet. She felt totally floored by their promise of the ultimate high.

  The bottle of dragonreich whispered in Posh’s head—love me now. I will make you strong. Strong. Strong.

  No, Posh thought back weakly, I won’t. I don’t need you anymore.

  The drug was insistent: Strong enough to take on that bitch Beth, who reduced you to this bloodstained mess.

  No! Posh gasped.

  Then: Huh!?

  She snapped out of a daze to find herself standing at the cabinet, her hand reaching for the bottle of reich. She however didn’t remembering picking herself off the floor and walking there.

  She turned and stared dully at the bloody footprints linking her ankles to where she’d been lying down.

  Oh, shit! I’d better get back over there fast, before Jade returns.

  She turned away.

  Don’t, the drug moaned in her head.

  Posh froze. She questioned her sanity. Was it really the powder speaking, or her own craving translating into its voice?

  Look, I’m fucking dying here, okay, let me be.

  I’ll make you stronger than Beth, her craving retorted in a lover’s whisper. Much, much stronger. Beth will be a gnat compared to you. She’ll never be able to fuck you up again—never make chicken-love to you again. Instead you’ll fuck Beth up good. REAL good.

  Posh smiled dreamily. Now there’s a plan. During her drive to Chinatown, she’d pondered how to get Beth off her back. She’d ruled out telling Malone—secrets, secrets. Asking Sookie to send Bulldog and Gorgeous over to scare Beth had seemed workable, but now . . .