The Harry Ferguson Chronicles Box Set

by William David Ellis

  Suddenly Harry was free. He did not drift quietly above his body but jumped out. He was sucked from his tortured remains like a breadcrumb into a vacuum cleaner. There was nothing dignified or elegant about the process. After he was torn loose, he was shoved through a door. He blinked, expecting a homecoming, a throng of family and angels, at least a sign saying “Pearly gates this way.” No such luck. It took a moment for him to realize where he was. But the back end of the strongman dragon clawing its way through a hole half the size of its horned head gave him a clue. He watched as the beast’s tail slammed against the stone floor of the other side of the gateway that was now open to his world. The red tint of the cavern and the stifling dry heat told Harry he was at the barrier he had witnessed with Laden Long, the place where the she-dragon had tried to push through and been thrown back. A hole had been punched through the seal and the dragon was struggling to break out.

  Then he heard, “Harry, glad to see you. Sorry I haven’t been available to help, no time to chat. Grab that critter’s tail and pull!”

  “What Sword? Now you show up! Grab it by the tail… You have got to be kidding me!” Harry yelled.

  “What do you think it’s going to do? Kill you? Kinda late for that. Just do it! In this place power is not measured by bulk, Harry, but by will. So grab hold of that beast, anchor your feet, and pull. Do it now before it gets through. Hurry!”

  Muttering, Harry ran toward the twisting tail. It lashed back and forth behind the beast, right and left, an armored whip with pointed spikes and slashing razors. “How the hell am I supposed to catch this dang thing, much less pull on it?” he yelled as he lunged toward the thrashing appendage. “It’s like trying to catch a thorny fire hose! Dang.” He grabbed again, missed again, and was struck across his side. “Ouch! I’m dead. That’s not supposed to hurt!”

  “Harry, do you note the large bonelike appendage sticking out at an angle from the circular body of the vertebrae?”

  “You mean that spiky thing, barbed and razor-sharp? Yeah! I see it. Ufff!” he screamed as the tail hammered him again, smashing him against the floor.

  “Well, that is connected to a joint called the transverse process. It measures about an inch and a half square, and it’s capable of supporting the weight of the dragon. All you have to do is grab it, twist hard, anchor your feet, and pull. The twist will paralyze the tail, enabling you to concentrate on pulling the dragon back through the portal.”

  “Right, just grab it by the thag-o-mizer… Now where did that word come from?”

  “I believe it is the informal term paleontologists nicknamed the appendage. They got it from Gary Larson’s Far Side—”

  “Sword!” Harry screamed. “Shut up!” He lunged for the spike, grabbed it, and was ripped off his feet and swept into the air.

  “Ride ’em, Harry! Hold on, twist, Harry, twist it! You got ’em, twist, Harry!”

  Harry straddled the bucking tail like a bull rider, or in this case like a bucking dragon rider. He leaned on the spike and with all his might twisted. He heard a rip, a loud crack like a bone being violently pulled out of its socket. The tail suddenly stopped slashing and fell toward the floor, landing with a dull meaty thud, throwing Harry off. He tucked his head and rolled several feet. He jumped up and ran back to the flaccid dragon’s tail. The cave shook as the hindquarters of the huge serpent quivered. Far off a muted roar sounded. Harry realized the scream came from the head of the dragon that had passed through the veil and was struggling to get through.

  He seized the end of the tail, anchored his feet, and pulled.

  The cave shook once more, Harry tightened his grip and pulled again. The dragon budged. It was working. He pulled again, inch by inch backed up, dug his feet in, bent his knees, and like an Olympic weightlifter, heaved. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes. His arms ached, and he couldn’t feel his feet. Yank, back up, anchor, pull, inch by inch he was dragging the strongman back into its prison.

  The dragon’s shoulder was pulling back through the seal, and the massive muscles that attached to the serpent’s wings rippled in resistance. Harry laughed as an old country western tune came to mind. He grunted again pushing out the words.

  “I… got… a draggggin by the tail… it’s plain… to see… Oh shit.” The beast pulled back. Harry’s hands were slippery from his own sweat and the slime exuding from the dragon’s flesh. He grabbed, digging deeper into the serpent’s flesh, and continued grunting out the old tune. “Won’t be much… … uggg, pull!”

  Then it occurred to him. “What do I do when I get it hauled back in here?”

  ****

  Belle had not expected to see the demon dragged kicking and screaming back into its prison. The dots did not connect. Her brain sparked but the current did not flow. She stood motionless in the middle of the chaos.

  Laden Long suffered from the same malady. This could not be happening, nothing could be… Nothing on earth or in the heavens could drag the queen of the dark back into her den. Nothing!

  Belle recovered first and took a deep breath. Hope stirred, then stopped again. The demon surged forward. It had cast off its chains. Its huge muscles rippled, its great teeth gnashed. The demon’s shriek smashed windows and eardrums; shattered glass flew through the cathedral, piercing flesh. Belle’s reprieve had lasted seconds and ended in futility. She gritted her teeth, tucked her head, and ran toward the dragon, like a running back ramming his way through tacklers.

  Realizing he could not stop her in his human form, Long flashed.

  Fiery gusts swept across the ancient stone, incinerating the battle hosts. In the middle of the flame a new dragon stood, its wings stretched from wall to wall. Its head broke the ruined ceiling, hurtling down rock and debris on any who had survived the scorching winds. The serpent moved swiftly, its great wing slicing through rock and soldiers. It slapped Belle to one side. Her head slammed against the stone, knocking her cold.

  Chapter 52

  Raleigh ducked behind a pile of debris. He bent his head, hugging the floor as flames licked at his skin, scorching the tender ends of his velvet ears. He whimpered as the wind tore rock and flesh, glass and bone, sweeping it up and spreading it across the cathedral walls. It stopped as quickly as it had come. He looked toward the scent his nose had found. Two people he loved were lying on the floor, one not moving, the other groaning. A growl rumbled in his throat, his feet answered, and he raced toward the stone altar where Harry and Belle lay.

  Romlott Hus’s long snout was gaping, his teeth open. Saliva dripped from his lips. He drew back his long neck to strike and shrieked as a mouth full of teeth clamped against his throat. Raleigh bit down and clung on. The dragon’s neck whipped and thrashed, then slammed against the stone floor. Raleigh hit hard—ribs broke and one of his legs, bent under his body, snapped. The dragon pulled back its neck, blood streaming, covering both Raleigh and those he loved in a bright spray. Raleigh watched, confused, as the spray stopped, the wounds closed. He backed up, placing himself between the beast and Belle Rodum. He was a wolf, the product of thousands of years of breeding and loyalty. His kind had defended their masters, their loved ones, for centuries. He was the best of them, the king of the wolves, and he had no quit in him. His lips curled, revealing huge teeth for a wolf, but compared to the foot-long razor fangs of the dragon he faced; they were pitiful. One snap of those gaping razors and he and the one he protected would be gone.

  ****

  Harry couldn’t get the stupid tune or the fear out of his mind. He could barely see, the cave was already hot, and the effort of dragging the demon back into it caused sweat to pour out of him. His hair was wet, his muscles ached. He had slipped twice, but never let go. He yanked hard and felt the beast slip; he had pulled it further then than ever. A few more tugs, and the beast would come through the gate. Then what?

  And by the way where was he? His eyes could sting, he could sweat. Everything that he had ever imagined told him heaven was air-conditioned and the other place not
so much. He gritted his teeth; the dragon gave way. Harry lost his grip and fell face first. The cavern quaked.

  And then he heard a familiar voice. “Could ya use a hand?”

  Harry raised up to see a young man dressed in a red plaid flannel shirt. Harry stared at him. Time had stopped. The dragon had ceased moving. Somewhere in the back of his very sore brain, tossed like clothes fresh out of a dryer, an old memory stirred. “You look familiar.”

  “We’ve met.”

  “Aren’t ya kinda hot in that shirt?” Harry asked.

  “It’s all what you’re used to. You need some help?”

  “Sure, could stand it…”

  The young man smiled and shook his head. “Harry, you are something else! Listen. There is a lot more for you to do. I’ve got this; you need to get back.”

  “I appreciate the offer but…” He looked back at the dragon. Its head filled the room, its fangs bared. It was stopped in time, stuck in motion. Like a poster dragon on a bedroom wall. “You sure?”

  “Harry. Who do ya think stuffed this critter in here to start with?”

  The young man’s bright smile and raised eyebrows forced Harry’s wayward memory loose. His eyes widened and his famous briar-eating grin flashed into place. “It’s you!” Then a bright light exploded and Harry felt the familiar pull drawing him back. Then darkness.

  Chapter 53

  Jude tossed the covers off and stared at the dark ceiling. Late nights and early mornings did nothing for him. He closed his eyes, hoping to slip back into a wonderful dream. The dream was patchy; he could remember only a few snatches. He knew he was happy and he knew he was with a beautiful woman. She looked familiar but he couldn’t sort through the remnants to determine who she was. Right as his eyes closed and he felt the inviting darkness envelope him, the phone rang.

  “Ah! Dang it!” Griping, he rolled over, reached across the bed, and snatched his cell off the nightstand. “Hello? What? Ahh yeah… I guess. Okay, okay. Sure, give me a few minutes. I’ll be right over.”

  As he ran through the shower, nabbed his clothes, and ran out the door, he wondered, “Where in the heck is Lizzy?” The call had been from one of the library mothers. Lizzy had not shown up for work. She had left a message on the mom’s cell early this morning. Said she wouldn’t be in today. Some type of emergency. She told the mom to call him to watch the kids. Why didn’t she call me? Where is she? Jude tried to ring Lizzy’s cell. No answer.

  He walked up the stairs to the old Victorian house that held the neighborhood library. It was noisy. The babes were bouncing off the wall this morning. It was going to be an interesting day! As he entered the room he was assaulted by an avalanche of urchins, each one jabbering or yelling. A few of the boys were making loud engine noises like jets coming in for a landing. The girls were articulate, chattering away at the same time, and not a one of them missing what the others were saying.

  He laughed. I love these guys, every spangled one of them. He was also glad that Lizzy had kept him up to date on the story. He had actually read the pages Lizzy had copied for him. Her dad was amazing!

  Now how do I get their attention? He walked to the middle of the room, put two fingers in his mouth, and whistled loud and shrill. The windows rattled but the following silence was worth it.

  “I’m going to start the story. If you want to hear it, I want every butt in the chair, every eye focused, every mouth shut.” He felt like he was giving an altar call at his father’s church—every head bowed, every eye closed—and grinned at the thought. It was an altar call… and these ankle biters were his flock.

  “Now if I understand correctly, the last thing Lizzy… I mean Miss Lizzy to you…” The girls grinned and the boys nodded. Some of the girls’ grins were a little too big; he would have to be careful. Dragon babies were unpredictable and he didn’t want any little hearts with little crushes getting bruised. “Told you guys was the part about Harry being on the altar and then getting stabbed and pulling the strongman, who was actually a female, by the way.” He wanted to add, because they make better demons, but thought better of it. “And Belle Rodum was down, Raleigh was hurt yet growling, prepared to fight to death against the old dragon… right?”

  “Yep!”

  “I forgot.”

  “Where is Miss Lizzy, why are you here?”

  “Is she okay?”

  “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  Jude frowned and then with rapid-fire automatic response said,

  “Good,

  “too bad,

  “don’t know,

  “yes,

  “go ahead and I’m about to start. Are you ready? Don’t answer that, I know you are.

  “Okay, I read Mr. Hank’s diaries and this is how it ends. Well, here goes…”

  “I know, I know!”

  Jude arched an eyebrow and Easton shushed.

  “Sorry…” he muttered.

  Jude felt sorry for him and said, “Okay, okay, Easton, what do you think happened?”

  “Well… Sarah flies in and rescues everybody!”

  Jude slipped back into the rocker. For a moment he struggled with a thought, then orneriness set in, “Nope.”

  “What?”

  “What happened?”

  “She had to!”

  A dozen little voices shouted, demanding attention. Jude just watched and smiled. Finally, when they realized he wasn’t going to respond to their demands, Gracie calmly stood, her pigtails dangling, a big smile pleading, and said in the politest of voices, “Mr. Jude, if Sarah didn’t save them, what happened? Please tell us. Pleeaase!”

  Jude released a long, exaggerated sigh. He was awful and he knew it. But he just couldn’t help himself.

  “Okay, here’s what happened… The old dragon eats Raleigh and Belle, Brady has been shot dead, Harry goes on to heaven, and Sarah gets on the scene a heartbeat too late only to fight and lose to Romlott Hus!”

  ****

  An hour later, Jude was still picking up pieces of broken glass and torn books. The library shelves had been singed; the carpet was soiled. And he was still laughing. The last mother who left after picking up a child had given him a scalding look, not scolding but scalding, he had bit his lip to keep from laughing. The little dragon-shifter storm had finally settled when he promised on pain of being burned to cinders to come back the next day and tell the truth. He wasn’t much sure they would like it either, but…

  ****

  Jude arrived at Lizzy’s. He slammed his car door and ran up the stairs. He pounded on the door, yelling, “Lizzy! Lizzy, let me in!” He had tried to call her several times the night before. When she did not return his calls, he had decided he would go to her house and find out what was going on. He waited, listening for the sound of footsteps crossing the wooden floor. None came. He knocked again… no answer. He jumped off the porch and ran around the house. Her car was gone. Frowning, he walked around back. The door was locked. He glanced both ways, it was a small town and people watched, then slipped an old credit card through the slit between the latch bolt and the strike. He hesitated a moment. What if she was home but incapacitated, or better yet, lying on the floor in a pool of blood? He closed his eyes and forced the lock. It worked; he was in.

  “Lizzy! Lizzy! Are you here?” He walked through the house, thinking, I should have brought my gun. There was no sign of her. He did notice her closet was empty. Wherever she was, she intended on staying awhile. He glanced at the table in her kitchen, her dresser, her bed. There was no note. Her PC was missing as well. She was just gone. He sat down hard on the end of her bed. What happened? Where’d she go? Why didn’t she tell me she was leaving? She would have never left her kids. Then he thought, Her dad’s journals. He fell to his knees and looked under her bed where she stashed her dad’s journals.

  They were still there. He pulled them out, three large piles of spiral notebooks. He quickly sorted through them. As far as he could tell none were missing. He had seen them before. Lizzy had even
made copies and given them to him to read. Every entry was still in place, including the one where they defeated the strongman. He had read that entry twice, shaking his head as he read. Talk about a muddle… wow! Had that been what set Lizzy off? Did her disappearance have anything to do with the entry? He had no idea. The clock in the hall struck, reminding him he was still filling in for her and the little people would be waiting.

  Jude drove into the library parking lot and grinned when he saw that every spot was filled. Cars were parked across the street and in front of driveways, blocking local residents’ access. He reversed and drove around back, parked, and walked to the front. This was the big day. The end of the story would be told. At least this particular one. People were crowding the entrance and starting to put folding chairs on the wraparound porch of the old house that held the library. How am I going to finish this story when I can’t keep my mind focused for worrying about Lizzy?

  As he mounted the steps, an adult voice hollered, “It’s about time!” He looked to see who the guilty party was: Jamie, the local café owner and resident social community networker/voice, who in previous eras would have been seen as a matriarch or gossip depending on the news and the day. marched toward him. she was escorted by a cohort of very subdued former fit-throwing mess makers.

  “These here little tantrum tossers have something to say to you, Jude. And since I am kin to most every one of them, their mothers and various and sundry fathers have agreed that I should facilitate that address.” She pointed back to the large doors that opened into the main room of the library. “But since it’s August and hotter than a nanny goat in a pepper patch even in the morning, we are going inside, and if you want to hear this you best follow.”

  Jamie strode to the library entrance, the crowd of parents and relatives parting like the Red Sea in the movie The Ten Commandments. Finally, when everyone was seated in their usual places with bright, shiny, and humbled faces, and with a few bottoms flinching every time a child adjusted their seating, Jamie continued.