by Marc Franco
Now what? What could be more wrong than a dragon attacking us?
“The domes are fading and we can’t stop it. We have to move this battle before they fade out. We can’t put innocent civilians at risk.”
“Move it where?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“Out of time.”
Baum reached up into the air, seemed to grab something invisible, then stared at the dragon. Oddly, I saw fear in its eyes. Seconds before, it had been a ravenous, menacing beast … but now the gigantic creature was scared stiff by whatever Baum was about to do. Baum jerked his arm down. At first it sounded like paper being torn, then there was a loud pop—like the world’s largest soda had just been opened. A small tear had appeared in the air above Baum’s head, and a blue ripple of light shot out from the opening and struck the dragon. It flew back fast and with force, like it had been kicked in the chest by an invisible giant, and ended up wedged between several palm trees in Tiff’s yard. Then there was a sucking sound, as if someone had turned on a giant vacuum. Without hesitation, Baum grabbed something invisible in the air and sprinted down the street like he was running with a kite. Baum went all the way down to my house, crossed the street, then ran back to us. When he finished, my jaw dropped—he had made an odd-shaped, giant black hole in the air above our street.
There seemed to be some sort of tornado spinning inside, no doubt the source of the powerful suction. Several of the commandos, along with a horde of ice-skulls, had already been pulled into the black hole. We ran to Logan’s front porch and held onto whatever we could find as the wind swirled around us.
“Are you guys seeing this?” I shouted while bear-hugging a pillar.
“What?” Shig said, sounding out of breath and sharing the door handle with Logan. “That Baum just tore a hole into thin air? Yeah, I see it!” he shouted. Logan shook her head slowly, like she’d seen a ghost. Yep, she saw it too.
Everything that wasn’t either a building or rooted in the ground was being sucked into the hole. When even the dragon was pulled free from the palm trees and swallowed up by the hole, I realized that resisting the vacuum was pointless.
Baum came out of nowhere, startling us.
“Let’s go,” he said, then waved at me to jump in the hole.
“Go where?” I asked.
“Out of time,” he replied curtly.
That made no sense. How could you go outside of time?
“Well, what about the dragon? It’s probably on the other side waiting with its mouth open,” I said.
Baum shook his head. “No. It will be back in Tiff’s yard.”
“Are you sure?” I asked disbelievingly.
“It’s protecting the book. Look, trust me. Now go!” I gave Baum a leery look then ran toward the hole. I dove in like I was diving into a pool, only this pool was a whirly sea of blackness. I expected to descend into a whirlwind, but surprisingly that didn’t happen. I ended up doing a somersault and landing right back where I started … in Logan’s front yard. It was like I’d jumped through an open window that led to nowhere. Thankfully Baum had been right. The dragon was back in Tiff’s yard, pacing and spitting up fireballs.
But something wasn’t right with me. I felt different. I sat up and was startled by the sight of my legs. They were huge—I mean compared to their size seconds ago. I was bigger, like grown-up bigger. My armored suit was gone but I was still wearing commando gear. Just as I stood, two unfamiliar commandos tumbled into me. The three of us grunted and complained as we crashed to the snow. We quickly stood and exchanged looks. They were in their late teens, maybe seventeen, and dressed just like me—in tactical gear from head to toe with frontpacks and green J-Ray’s. The male was Asian. The female was tall, tan-skinned, exotic … and slightly familiar.
“Jakob?” the male said cautiously.
“Shig? Logan?” I asked, eyeing them—searching for my friends in their grown-up faces.
“Yeah!” Logan said excitedly.
Holy smoke, it was them. A hug was the first thing that came to mind, but a nearby explosion canceled that idea.
Baum hopped through the hole next, and was transformed into a large muscular version of his dwarf self. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
“What, never seen a tall dwarf before?” He grinned, then fiddled with something that looked like a high-tech remote control.
Slowly, I shook my head. But the strangest thing was not his height; it was his total lack of surprise about us. He didn’t find it odd that minutes ago we were kids and now we were grown?
Baum pointed the remote at Logan’s roof just as a huge roar interrupted our reunion. The dragon was on Tiff’s roof, roaring and spitting fireballs at attacking commandos. Without warning, a chorus of blaster fire erupted from behind us, blasting the dragon off his perch.
“Whoa! Logan, your house,” Shig said. Logan and I turned around. My jaw dropped. The front of her house looked like some futuristic castle. Steel battlements were built into the roof, and extending between elaborately arched parapets were unmanned sentry cannons. So that’s what Mr. Raffo’s hazmat workers had been up to—building an assault system. I noticed most of the cannons pointed toward the street—like he knew where the attack would come from. He so had to be a spy for Santa.
“Your dad did good, Logan,” I heard Baum say through my speakers. “These cannons are no ordinary cannons. They’re heat-ray and plasma cannons. The ice-skulls hate them!”
I was about to say something to Logan when I spotted several armored commandos across the street trying to flank the dragon. But I wasn’t the only one that spotted them. In one swipe, the beast’s massive spiked tail struck the commandos and sent them flying through the air.
“No!” Logan yelled.
“They’ll be fine,” Baum said reassuringly. “Their armor knows what to do. Now re-engage your armor—all of you. You lose it when you leave time.”
“Look!” Shig pointed across the street at the commandos.
“They look like armadillos,” Logan said. “Giant, rolled-up armadillos.”
Baum had been right about the commando’s armor knowing what to do. It had turned into an armored ball. The commandos were holding their knees to their chest when the armor transformed back. They continued their attack, concentrating on the dragon’s left rear leg. Maybe they’d found a chink in its scaly body. Maybe with our help and a little diversion the commandos could finish the dragon. I looked at my friends then gave myself a once-over. We were grown-up and capable. Surely we’d be able to help out.
I cleared my throat. “Come on guys, they need help.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Baum said forcefully.
“But we’re grown-up—”
“Maybe on the outside, but not on the inside. My job is to keep you and Santa safe, no matter the cost. Understand?” Hey, at least he didn’t yell at me again. I guess he was just temperamental. Unhappily, I nodded … then had an idea.
“What about the book?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Logan said excitedly, “while your team distracts the dragon, we’ll sneak inside and seal it.”
I could tell Baum was considering it.
“Come on, it’s no more dangerous than dodging fireballs out here. Please,” I begged.
We heard loud screeches coming from Tiff’s house. More bad news: a steady stream of ice-skulls were flying out from where the front door used to be. My bet was they were coming from the book in Tiff’s kitchen. Robotic parts moved quickly as the heat-ray and plasma cannons on Logan’s roof blasted to life again. Baum shook his head. I knew what that meant: stay clear of Tiff’s house.
Before I could plead our case, Baum shouted, “Logan, Shig, find cover.” He glanced at me. “You’re with me,” he grunted then pointed to Tiff’s house. We watched the horde of ice-skulls heading our way. “Baum to Crystal Palace!”
“Crystal Palace,” a deep, raspy voice answered.
“What’s the status on my evacuation request?”
“Negative, yo
ur LZ is too hot. There are ice-skulls everywhere,” the raspy voice replied. LZ, more military slang. It meant Landing Zone.
Baum raked his fingers through his long black hair. He was contemplating something.
“Broken Arrow! I say again, Broken Arrow!” he said firmly.
There was a long pause before the Crystal Palace finally answered.
“Broken—” the voice stammered then regained its authority. “Broken Arrow confirmed!” I didn’t like the way the raspy voice had answered Baum. Something was wrong. What was Broken Arrow?
Logan and Shig did as Baum instructed and hid in Logan’s yard, behind a row of bushes. I stayed with Baum, crouched behind a splintered palm tree, blasting ice-skulls.
“What’s Broken Arrow?” I asked after zapping the head of an ice-skull into smithereens and watching the secondary explosion. I’m sorry, I knew I was supposed to hit them in the neck, but it was so cool zapping the nasty things and creating my personal fireworks display. I just had to make sure they weren’t too close.
Baum stopped blasting, hesitated, then finally answered. “If it were just the dragon, we’d be able to handle it. But the ice-skulls … there are too many. We need Santa, but he’s not coming. I’ve called in multiple air and artillery plasma strikes on our position.”
“I’m … I’m not sure I understand,” I said.
“Broken Arrow means I want this place leveled. All we can do now is hope the Crystal Palace will use discretion.”
“What about our parents?” I asked.
“They’ll be fine. Time doesn’t exist here.” I gave him a blank stare. Baum continued. “This is a timeless dimension. How do you think Santa delivers all of the presents in one night? Your parents remain in their original state.”
Baum returned to the turkey shoot, blasting the ice-skull creatures from the sky. Their remains were everywhere, some falling several feet from me as I ran behind Logan’s giant oak. I had crouched there a hundred times before with Fleep and Shig, playing our NERF wars. How I wished all of this was just a simple kids’ war game, but it wasn’t. I left Baum and went back to Shig and Logan. I told them about Broken Arrow.
“We can close the book. We’re not kids anymore. We’re bigger and stronger,” Shig said.
“Baum will go ballistic for sure if we even leave my yard,” Logan said.
Shig frowned. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Santa’s the only one who can save us,” Logan said.
“Aye, he is!” I knew that voice. I spun around.
“Benji!” I shouted excitedly, then rushed over and gave him a huge bear hug.
“Easy now, you’ve got some strength there,” Benji said, reminding me of my new physique. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Then he pursed his lips, and the news I so hoped for was actually more bad news. “Santa will not wake.”
“What?” Logan said in disbelief.
“I’m sorry, Jakob, but I’ve done all I can. You gave him too much tea.”
You gave him too much tea. The words were like an ice pick to my heart.
“What have I done?” I mumbled. “It’s over. S.R. won and I helped him.”
Benji held up Santa’s polar bear belt. “Not if you put this on.”
“What?” Baum and I said in chorus. I hadn’t notice Baum walk up, but I was suddenly glad he did. Benji ignored Baum.
“You’re the Pole.” Benji made a fist. “The belt will give you the power you need to destroy the dragon and pursue S.R..”
Baum regarded Benji with disdain. “What have you done? Are you mad? What if Santa wakes? You’ve left him powerless!” Baum reached for the belt, but Benji was quicker.
“It’s not your decision, Baum,” Benji said deliberately. “Jakob, please, put it on.” He held the belt out to me.
“I can’t wear that. It’s … it’s …” I stuttered. “It’s not mine.” I backed away from Benji like he was trying to hand me a cobra snake.
“You’re wrong, Jakob. It is your belt. You’re the Pole. You’re next in line … you’re Santa.”
“What?” This time the chorus came from everyone but Benji.
Baum threw his hands up in the air. “Benji, what have you done? You should not have said that now. Give me Santa’s belt before you make things even worse.”
I didn’t stick around long enough to find out if Baum got the belt. I was too freaked by what I’d just heard. I took off for Tiff’s house to do the one thing I knew would help us—close the book once and for all. Zapping the ice-skull creatures from the sky on my way, I pushed aside Benji’s words.
Just as I reached Tiff’s yard, the first Broken Arrow strike arrived, in the form of a giant plasma strike. It struck the street in front of Shig’s house, destroying a cluster of ice-skulls that were trying to flank Baum’s commandos. A second, third, and fourth strike arrived in quick succession, shelling down the street. The earth shook. I’d never been through an earthquake but imagined that this equaled about a seven on the Richter scale.
“Jakob! Fireball!” Baum’s voice rang out over the chaos.
The evil dragon had hocked a fireball at me. I’d always wanted to do one of those slow motion back-bend moves like I’d seen in the karate movies, but never imagined I’d be forced to do one to avoid a dragon’s flaming spitball. The maneuver half-worked. I arched my back and avoided losing my head, but fell flat on my back. At least I got to watch as the beach ball-sized fireball flew over me. It struck a house and disintegrated on impact. I got up, gave Baum the thumbs up, then—needing no further motivation—armored up.
The dragon clawed at the air then spread its large, bat-like wings and flapped in protest, probably because it had missed me. The beast started heading toward me slowly, dragging its right hind leg. It was hurt. That was the first piece of good news all day, but who was I kidding … it was still alive, big, and determined.
Some of the cannons on Logan’s roof had been destroyed, but the remaining heat-ray cannons still zapped the ice-skulls, evaporating them from the sky while explosions from the Broken Arrow plasma strike kicked up snow and dirt.
“What are you doing, Jakob? Get back here,” Baum’s voice ordered over my headset. I glanced across the street at Baum and my friends. I was glad to see that they had activated their armor.
“Jakob, the belt!” Benji’s voice called. He was beyond freaking me out with the talk about me being next in line for Santa. I ran toward the gaping hole in Tiff’s house, blasting ice-skulls all the way.
I was about ten feet away from Tiff’s front door when Baum’s loud voice echoed in my helmet. “Broken Arrow! Fox in!” I stopped. What was Baum talking about? I knew a lot of military slang but fox in was new to me. Curious, I looked over at the other commandos and my jaw dropped open. Their armor had transformed into something that looked like spinning tops, and they were drilling themselves deep into the ground, driving deeper with every passing second.
I heard Baum shout, “Baum command override Jakob. Fox in.” He said the same thing for Logan and Shig. My HUD instantly scrolled, reading off several pages of instructions, then suddenly I felt like I was inside a simulation ride. Baum had instructed my armor to dig into the ground. My arms automatically wrapped around my knees and pulled them to my chest as I spun into the ground like a whirling cyclone. A few seconds passed. Then just as my HUD read “95 percent foxed,” I was struck by a jolt of electricity that scrambled my heads-up display.
Whatever was happening aboveground was not good. After several more minutes of earth-shaking bombardments, there was finally quiet. Baum’s order to “Dig out!” came through my helmet speakers and, after another spin ride in reverse to dig out from the dirt, my armor transformed back to normal.
Aside from the homes, which were unharmed, my once-picturesque neighborhood was now transformed into an apocalyptic landscape. The dragon had not survived. It was lying on its side. Craters were everywhere, as were icy skeletal remains—evidence of the ice-skulls’ demise. Several destroyed cannons were
sparking.
I was still determined to get to the book and close it before something else came through. Once inside Tiff’s house, I beelined it to the kitchen, grabbed one side of the massive book and heaved it shut. I thought I’d managed to close it before anything else came though … but unfortunately I was too late. A small, orange dragon the size of a lizard was staring up at me beside the book. I slammed my fist down hoping to splat the dragon but missed. Tiff’s book was shrinking—not as fast as I’d hoped, but soon I’d be able to take it and run.
“You may be big, but I see you for what you are, you foolish child,” the dragon scoffed in a menacing, growling voice. The animal was standing outside the pantry closet and had already grown to the size of a Chihuahua. It stared at me. “Stupid boy. I’m the protector of my master’s book. I will stop you.” It nipped at my heel. I kicked the dragon into the pantry and slammed the door shut. Finally, after enduring another minute of empty dragon taunts, I collected Tiff’s now normal-sized book and beelined it outside to where my friends stood. Holding up the book triumphantly, I cheered “I did it, I closed the book!”
Then the scariest thing of my short life happened … and I soon realized my mistake of not squashing the lizard-sized dragon when I’d had the chance. The roof to Tiff’s house exploded and the head of the fiery orange dragon emerged. The giant head. It crashed through the walls that confined it, then swept its massive spiked tail and decimated what was left of the house. The huge beast regarded his fallen counterpart dragon with a flaming roar to the heavens.
We all stared, feeling helpless against a creature of such incredible size. Then Benji turned to me and said forcefully, with no room for questioning, “I think now would be a good time to put this on.” It was Santa’s belt.
I stared at it for a second. He was right. It was now or never. The first thing I wanted to do was send one of those electrical blasts from the belt like S.R. had done to me.
Just as I clasped the belt buckle on, the dragon turned to me. Eyes full of rage, it exhaled a huge plume of fire.
“Do something, Jakob,” Logan pleaded.