She screamed as the dragon lunged forward, snapping and ripping out a chunk of the backseat. She could smell the rank stench of blood on its hot breath.
She grabbed the jack again and rammed it against the window. This time, it shattered, showering her in sticky pellets of glass and plastic film.
Carrie squeezed herself through the crumbling remains of the window, past the massive spare tire mounted to the rear bumper. She turned as she went and reached up and grabbed the back rail of the luggage rack to pull herself out.
The dragon lurched across the backseat, its jaws clacking together as Carrie started to pull her legs out. Searing pain flared along the inside of her left calf as its teeth ripped through her snowsuit. She cried out and kicked wildly at its head with her right foot, but its jaws had clamped down on the snowsuit, and it wasn’t about to let go. She shoved against the back of the truck, struggling to free her leg as the dragon began to slowly pull her back inside. Jerking and kicking, she managed to work her left foot up through the leg about ten or twelve inches.
Then the dragon began to thrash and spin like a crocodile rolling its prey on the bottom of a river. The leg of the snowsuit twisted up and tightened around her boot. Carrie tried to pull it out, but her boot was caught in the ever-tightening noose of her suit. With her right leg braced against the tire well, she pushed with all she had and screamed with the effort. Her foot began to slowly slip out of the boot. There was the sound of ripping nylon, but the suit twisted tighter.
With one final surge, her foot came free. She fell backward to the ground with a heavy thud.
The wind knocked from her, Carrie struggled to her feet. Inside, the dragon had finished shredding the snowsuit, and when it realized there was no longer anything in it, it began pulling the rest of its bulk over the seat into the cargo area. Its head poked out the missing window beside the spare tire, but the space was too small for it to fit through easily. It shrieked in anger. Its burning eyes focused on Carrie.
She took off, hobbling across the frozen ground, one boot still on and one off. She wasn’t sure where to go now, but it would only be a matter of moments before the thing managed to slither its way out again.
Running around the US Forest Service’s Suburban, she thought about trying the doors, but she didn’t have the keys. And after she had seen what the thing had done to the Hummer, she wasn’t going to make that mistake again. She continued on around the cabin, desperately trying to think while keeping an eye on the skies above her. It was hard to see through the swirling snow. Another dragon could be diving toward her, and she would never see it. She ran on, wracked by shivers as the wind cut through her clothing like the dragon’s teeth through her snowsuit.
Thirty yards ahead, the dark, steel framework of the lookout tower loomed before her.
CHAPTER 100
Carrie raced for the tower. She felt certain the thing couldn’t fly with one of its wings blown off. She just hoped it couldn’t climb a ladder.
The cold metal burned her skin as she climbed. Searing pain shot through her calf, but with each rung she passed, she began to gain confidence that she was going to make it, which only encouraged her to push herself higher.
Two-thirds of the way up, she heard the victorious screech of the dragon.
Seconds later, it came loping across the ground below, its powerful legs churning up chunks of snow. It flapped its wings as if trying to take off, but the shattered stump and tattered skin flopped about uselessly, keeping it grounded. Even so, it headed directly for the tower and Carrie as if she had been tagged with a tracking beacon.
At the base of the tower, it looked up and shrieked angrily. It moved closer, tentatively touching the steel framework a few times, as if unsure of what to do. Then it grabbed hold. Carrie watched in shock as the thing mounted the ladder. Slowly but surely, it began scaling the tower.
“Goddamn you!” Carrie screamed, cursing the creature and everyone responsible for creating it. The thing was unstoppable.
She started back up the ladder with renewed urgency.
When she reached the observation deck running around the outside of the perch, Carrie looked down again. The dragon was only a third of the way up, but it was still coming, slowly raking and clawing and pushing itself up. It used its tail as a safety line as it came, wrapping it tightly about the beams as it worked its way up.
Carrie pushed on the door leading into the observation perch and was relieved to find it unlocked. Inside, she looked about the octagon-shaped room. It was still filled with construction materials—stacks of sheetrock and ceiling tiles, spools of cable, sections of metal ductwork, crumpled plastic and tattered brown paper piled in one corner. To the left, opening from one of the back walls was a small toilet. Beyond that, sweeping around the front of the perch were six large windows, which were angled outward to maximize the viewing capabilities and gave the place the impression of an air traffic control tower.
She scanned the room for something to use as a weapon. Unfortunately, there weren’t any shotguns left lying around or hanging on a rack against the wall just waiting for her to come along. She considered trying to use a section of the sheetrock to drop on the creature, but, it was too bulky and heavy for her to lift alone, and the ductwork and ceiling tiles were too insubstantial to be of any effect against the dragon’s immense strength.
She looked at the built-in console/desk running around the room beneath the windows. It had been turned into a temporary plan table during construction, with rumpled blueprints and fast-food wrappers scattered across its surface. Beside the plans sat a metal toolbox. A wooden desk chair like the one in the cabin had been hauled up and shoved into the knee space.
Carrie grabbed the toolbox and picked it up to test its weight. Filled with tools, it felt heavy enough to do the trick. It took both hands for her to slide it off the counter and lug it out onto the catwalk.
The dragon had made it halfway up.
She hefted the toolbox up onto the railing and leaned it out over the edge. After she did her best to judge the distance, she waited until she thought the creature was within range before she let it go. It hurtled downward, twisting and tumbling. It crashed into the tower just above the creature’s head and bounced off the steel structure. The lid flew open and sent screwdrivers, wrenches, and hammers raining down on the creature. The dragon screeched as the tools bounced off its thick, bony skull before the box sailed harmlessly to the ground and disappeared into the snow.
Carrie fled back inside and struggled to control her rising panic.
Giving up on the idea of knocking the dragon off the tower, she closed the door and locked it in an attempt to barricade herself in. She slid the chair over and did her best to wedge it firmly under the knob.
She looked around again, hoping for inspiration. She knew the door wouldn’t hold forever, and while the tower’s glass was thicker than ordinary windows, she wasn’t sure they were impenetrable.
Then she saw the rungs leading to the hatch in the roof.
CHAPTER 101
Kyle roared up in front of the cabin and leapt off the snowmobile before it came to a full stop. He jerked off the helmet, grabbed the shotgun, raced up the steps and burst into the cabin.
It was like stepping into a charnel house.
He gaped at the slaughter before him. The maps on the walls were splattered with blood. Twisted and broken forms, severed limbs, and entrails were strewn about the room. Blood seeped into the cracks and crevices of the wood floor. The faint pall of smoke still hung in the air. And death. The stench was horrific.
Kyle gagged, nearly vomiting. He turned to run back out into the cold night air, but his knees buckled. He collapsed.
Overcome by it all, he no longer had the strength to pick himself up. He dragged himself across the floor, crawling on all fours like a baby. He struggled to reach the doorway.
He managed to pull himself out to the porch. He lay there, too numb to move. He had failed them all—the Joneses, Lewis
, Sheriff Greyhawk, and now Carrie. They were all gone.
All because of him.
For so long he had tried to make a difference, to help people see that life was worth living no matter what might have happened to them. But now he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure if it was even worth living at all.
Then, from somewhere far away, he heard something. It sounded like someone screaming.
He lifted his head and strained to hear it again. It was barely audible over the howling wind, but it was there. He rose unsteadily and started in the direction of the sound and then stopped. He picked up the shotgun and pumped it once to make sure it was loaded. Another scream rang out and was quickly carried away by the wind but not before he heard it.
It was a scream. And it had come from the lookout tower.
*
Arctic wind blasted Carrie in the face as soon as she stuck her head through the hatch. Her eyes watered, and she had to blink away the tears to see clearly. The roof sloped downward in all directions in order to limit the accumulation of snow. A rectangular metal box that looked to be the heating and air-conditioning unit sat to one side, while the rest of the roof was forested with satellite dishes, radio antennas, wind and rain gauges, and other odd-looking monitoring equipment. A lightning protection cable ran around the edge, connected to metal rods located at each of the eight corners.
Braving the blinding snow and wind, Carrie pulled herself onto the roof and slammed the hatch shut. The latch was on the inside, so she lay across the door, hoping the dragon wouldn’t be able to figure out where she had gone. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered as she tried to shelter herself from the biting wind. Exposed as she was, she knew she wouldn’t be able to survive long, but she didn’t know what else to do. She had finally come to the end of her rope.
There had been a time not long ago when she had felt as though she didn’t want to live anymore, when she would have jumped to her death with only the slightest provocation. But now it wasn’t even an option. She was determined to fight until the bitter end.
She carefully scooted across the roof a few feet and grabbed onto one of the long metal antennas. Gritting her teeth, she pushed against it until it slowly bent. Then she pulled it back. She worked it back and forth until the metal finally gave and it snapped off. As she held her makeshift weapon, Carrie clung to the frigid metal roof, shivering and praying that the beast would give up and move on or succumb to its wounds—although, from what she had seen, it didn’t appear to be slowing down.
Below, Carrie heard the first bang as the creature crashed against the door. She listened helplessly as the dragon broke into the room below her. It was silent for a moment and then, because it apparently sensed she had escaped, it screeched furiously. A barrage of pounding and smashing erupted below as the beast ransacked the room.
Kyle, where are you? she whispered between chattering teeth.
Below her, the room fell silent. She listened for a moment, trying to figure out what it was doing.
She screamed as the hatch bounced upward and nearly threw her off. She braced herself for the next attack, but she knew she couldn’t last much longer.
When the attack came, she screamed again as she was dislodged from her position. She began slipping toward the edge. She tried to flatten her body against the roof, grasping for anything to stop her inexorable slide. Finally, the toes of her boot caught on the metal flashing and the lightning protection cable running around the edge.
She scooted to the side to keep from falling off. The hatch bounced up again, but this time, without her weight bearing down on top of it, it didn’t fall shut. Slowly, the creature’s head rose through the gap. It opened its mouth and hissed at her.
Carrie rammed the broken antenna into the dragon’s face, spearing it right in the mouth. The thing thrashed about furiously and screeched as it fell back through the hole. The hatch slammed shut.
Overcome by a sudden surge of emotion, she yelled, “Yeah, come on!” at the top of her lungs. It was the kind of thing her grandmother would have done, and Carrie was proud of herself for doing it. She might not have much longer left to live, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
Carefully, she began inching her way toward another antenna.
The hatch banged up again.
*
Kyle raced from the cabin to the base of the tower and looked for signs of someone inside as he ran. He desperately wanted to call out to Carrie and tell her he was coming, but he didn’t know who—or what—was after her, and he was afraid to give away his presence.
He climbed the ladder as fast as he dared while clutching the shotgun. It wouldn’t matter how fast he reached the top if he dropped the gun in the process.
When he reached the bottom of the platform, Kyle stopped. As he raised his head, he peered over the edge of the catwalk.
The tower’s observation room looked as if it had been rocked by a bomb blast. The shattered door hung limply from the twisted remains of the top hinge. Tattered plastic and other construction debris fluttered about the room, swirling in the icy wind.
The most unbelievable sight of all was the dragon. It stood in front of the windows to the right of the console. It was perched on a series of metal rungs leading to a hatch in the ceiling. It jumped up and down, pounding its head against the bottom of the hatch in an apparent attempt to open it. As Kyle watched, it drove itself upward and knocked the hatch open with its head.
Carrie’s scream rang out from above.
Kyle bounded up the last few steps and burst into the room. The dragon’s head swiveled toward him. The amber eyes narrowed.
The shotgun roared, fire and powder flaring from the muzzle.
The blast caught the dragon in the side, spinning it around and knocking it from the ladder. Behind it, the window glazed, cracked by the stray pellets. The dragon landed on the console and roared in fury. It sprang to its feet, preparing to pounce.
Kyle was quicker.
As soon as he fired the first shot, he was already pumping the next shell into the breach. He fired again and struck the beast square in the chest, blowing it backward into the window. Glass exploded outward in a spray of glimmering crystals.
The dragon fell. It bounced off the railing around the catwalk and then tumbled over the edge.
Its whiplike tail shot out and wrapped around the rail, but Kyle had seen this trick before.
As he leapt onto the console, he pumped another round into the breech and fired at the tail. The blast severed it and sent the beast plummeting downward. Halfway down, it struck the steel beams with a wet, smacking sound before it bounced off and tumbled to the snowy ground below, where it lay motionless.
Kyle watched for several seconds to make sure it was dead. He then turned and began climbing the ladder, calling out Carrie’s name as he went.
He pushed the hatch open and was nearly overcome with relief when Carrie’s dirty, scratched face came into view. He helped her down the ladder into the observation room, where he pulled her into his arms.
“Is it dead?” she asked, shivering.
“Yeah, I think so,” Kyle said, watching the doorway. He still held on to the shotgun.
Clinging to him, she said, “I was afraid I’d never see you again.”
“I know,” Kyle said.
“When you told me to leave, I—”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again,” Kyle interrupted.
“Never?” Carrie asked, looking up at him.
“Never,” he replied, pulling her tighter against him.
CHAPTER 102
In spite of Carrie’s protests, Kyle pulled off his snowsuit and had her put it on. It was too big for her, but she pulled her hands through and bunched up the sleeves while she let the legs cover her feet like the footies on a little kid’s pajamas. Under other circumstances, it would have been cute.
Together, they carefully made their way back down, each watching the sky while the other
climbed. Carrie went first while Kyle covered her with the shotgun, and once she was down safely, he descended.
Not knowing where else to go to seek cover, they scurried back to the visitor center. Although it was a pointless gesture with the window gone, Kyle pushed the door shut behind them. He then killed the lights in the front room both to avoid revealing their presence and to keep from seeing the carnage as they passed through. In back, they found an office with the busted radio equipment on the floor. The room had a window, so they moved on, turning out the lights as they went. Across the hall, they found a small storage room. In the corner against one wall was a cot. There were no windows.
“What do you think?” Kyle asked.
“I think it’s as good as we’re going to get,” Carrie said.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. “Stay here.” He slipped down the hall to the back room.
What the hell?
The front end of the Hummer was sticking through the back wall. He couldn’t imagine what Carrie must have gone through, but he was impressed by her toughness. He grabbed one of the chairs from the table and took it with him, killing the lights on the way out. The remaining headlight from the Hummer was still on, casting an eerie glow down the hall.
When he slipped back into the storage room, Carrie had already collapsed onto the cot. He pushed the door shut and wedged the chair up against the knob. He leaned against the door as the last of his strength seemed to slip away from him. Tiny tremors shook his entire body. He was cold and exhausted. At the moment, he would have given almost anything for a steaming cup of coffee.
“Do you think there are any more?” Carrie asked.
“No,” he lied.
There was silence for a moment as the magnitude of what they had been through seemed to slowly sink in.
“You can sit down,” Carrie said, scooting over on the cot.
She didn’t have to ask twice. Kyle collapsed onto the cot beside her.
Shadow Dragon Page 38