by Jason Letts
Nemi, always a great source of comfort, perched on her shoulder. The sound of the door behind her drew her attention, and Tommack emerged to take her side. Sierra sighed.
“Don’t let him get to you,” Tommack said. He always seemed to be so confident, even when he had as little clue about what to do as the rest of them.
“I just can’t believe he’d speak that way so soon after my father died. I guess all the respect here has been destroyed too.”
They continued on for a minute in silence. The two of them surveyed the wrecked buildings, the cracked pavement, and the burn marks everywhere. Sierra waved to someone who was walking down an adjacent street. They came to a bare patch of ground, which Tommack crouched over and set his hand into.
“Can you sense anything?” Sierra asked, hoping for an easy way out.
“It doesn’t work like that,” Tommack said, rubbing the dirt between his fingers. “People don’t know that Iyne has a consciousness. It’s a player in all of this, like you are, but its goals are shrouded in mystery. Sometimes it speaks to me and tells me what’s coming, but most of the time it lets me carry on blindly,” he said.
“Its intentions can’t be that bad,” Sierra said.
“And why’s that?”
“It brought you and me together.”
Tommack laughed and came over to put his arms around her. Sierra found solace in putting her head against his chest for a moment, which happened to put some power cords sticking out of the ground directly in her field of vision. She pulled away to take a closer look at them.
“It’s one thing to expect people to be loyal for all we’ve done for them in the past, but it’s the mark of a true leader to continue to work for them even in the midst of their doubts. Come on, I know what we can do,” she said, pulling Tommack’s hand.
“What is it?” he asked, but she wouldn’t say until they were back in the hall.
Sierra was kicking herself for not thinking of it before. She’d spent so much time trying to put the country in order that she overlooked what she could do right here for the survivors of the ClawLands.
“Are you ready?” she said to Grent and the group, full of optimism. “We’re going to restore electricity to the ClawLands. The main furnace and power plant had been knocked out in the explosion, but some of the smaller substations have generators with localized circuits. If there’s enough power there to get me into the system, I can reroute power to the town.”
Some of the town folk nodded in support, and they’d be even more pleased when they could run appliances and cook without a fire.
“How do you know so much about what was damaged in the explosion?” Grent asked.
“Because it almost killed me,” Sierra answered flatly. “Now, come on. Let’s see if we can do this!”
It took a little more convincing, and the group didn’t exactly race up to the power plant and the site of the old Bracken Towers, but soon enough Sierra led her team, some of the survivors, and a handful of little dragons up the hill past the amphitheater. Where the towers had been was nothing but gray sky, but Sierra was sure this first accomplishment would lead to more. Ultimately, they’d find a way to secure the region and then the country.
As they continued on, they began to traverse the fallout from the explosion. The power plant in the distance was a heap of twisted metal. Chunks of debris were scattered all over the ground. And a thick layer of dust coated everything. Clearly the townfolk hadn’t yet dared to venture up this far.
They had just crossed onto the grounds of the energy company’s campus when they heard a strange thumping noise. Barely detectable at first, it grew until it nearly drowned out all other sound.
“What is that?” Tris shouted, covering her ears.
“There!” Tommack pointed at three black helicopters floating in the distance. The sound and the sight of those flying machines brought Sierra back to the night of the attack, when helicopters so much like them brought a night full of terrors. Although Sierra couldn’t think of anyone who had helicopters like that other than Arnold Keize, it didn’t make sense for him to arrive from the north. She paused to consider what they should do, but others around her had already made up their minds.
“We have to take cover. Get back to the court house!” Grent yelled.
“No! We have to stand our ground. I should’ve known the solution would come to us,” Sierra mused. Although the helicopters were probably loaded with firepower, Sierra had weapons of her own at her disposal. She turned her head slightly to Nemi on her shoulder. “Nemi, bring the other dragons.”
Nemi departed for the lower end of town just as the dust cloud kicked up. The helicopters were landing in the exact same spot they had before, but this time they were coming sorely unprepared. Sierra and the others covered their faces to block out the worst of the swirling dust. The thumping sound of the spinning blades was almost too much to bear, and then it quickly diminished.
They looked through the settling dust as the door to the closest helicopter slid open. Sierra knew exactly what she would say to Keize when he got out, and the words were on the tip of her tongue when a bony-looking man in a silver suit and dark glasses emerged. If the suit wasn’t enough of a clue, the neatly manicured goatee and the air of pretension gave him away.
“You’ve come to turn yourself in,” Sierra said, ready to strangle the man who had killed her father.
“Oh!” he said, just noticing the people nearby for the first time. A guilty smile emerged on his face while a few armored soldiers got out behind him. Sierra caught a glimpse of Keize for the first time. He sat next to a little girl inside and didn’t appear to have any intention of exiting the vehicle.
“Submit and face charges for the assassination of Lowell Bracken and the unprovoked attack on the ClawLands, or prepare to visit After and die where you stand,” Sierra said, surprised at the degree of icy malice she could produce. Nemi needed to return with the other dragons quickly, or she might have been promising more than she could deliver on.
Velo Wozniak scratched his nose and looked around.
“Is it bad if I say this place is actually looking better than the last time I was here?” he said, gloating.
“Returning is the last mistake you’ll ever make. Cumeria will be a better place for being rid of you.” She grew more anxious that just a few of the tiny dragons wouldn’t be enough to overwhelm the soldiers, but she couldn’t let that show.
“And what’s this about unprovoked? Unless my eyes deceive me, you’re the festering trollop who attacked my son. Did you think the Wozniaks, the mightiest premier family in the country, would just stand by and not let that go unpunished? Looking at all of this, I can see we went too easy on you. None should’ve been spared, least of all you.”
Velo gave a look to one of the soldiers, who raised his gun at them. Sierra’s heartrate doubled. She still had the upper hand.
“We need to back down,” Tommack said. Sierra set her jaw, hoping Grent didn’t hear him question her strategy.
“No, I’m not letting him go when he’s so close,” Sierra said. Nemi had to be coming any second. Those giant dragons could swoop down, crush those helicopters, and then melt them into puddles. She glared at Velo and gritted her teeth. “This is your final warning! No one else has to get hurt if you give yourself up.”
But Velo broke out into a fit of laughter that threatened his ability to stand. He had to lean against one of the soldiers to pull himself together.
“I don’t take orders from women unless there’s a lot of black leather involved. Speaking of which, maybe I should finish the job my son started. You know, get a taste what he was missing out on.”
“Sol!” Sierra shouted, calling the dragons to attack. She’d heard more than enough and was convinced that vile man would remain obstinate to his dying breath, which wouldn’t be too far away. Four little dragons took to the air and flew toward the helicopters. Sierra watched with relish, sure in just moments they’d rip out his neck.<
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One of the soldiers fired a few shots, forcing Sierra’s company to scatter. Grent and a few of the others took the opportunity to flee back to their camp.
The bullets were no threat to the dragons, which could heat themselves so much that the bullets would liquefy upon impact, and Sierra gazed with unflinching intensity at the prospect of such a sweet revenge.
Velo Wozniak ducked behind one of the soldiers and climbed back into the helicopter. The vehicle wasn’t running yet and wouldn’t be able to take off before the dragons got to him. The soldier who’d fired his gun was the first victim of the dragons, which melted through his armored plates and seared his skin. The man wailed while the others zeroed in on his neck and tore it to shreds.
By the time the soldier fell to the ground, Velo reemerged from the helicopter holding a gun of his own, but this one had a strange tank attached to it. He pointed it at the dragons, pulled the trigger, and sprayed them with a watery substance.
Velo’s laugh was unmistakably maniacal as he watched the beautiful creatures, writhing in agony, begin to turn reddish brown in color, and rust until they were perfectly still. Raising the black dress shoe of a businessman, Velo stomped on the dragons, cracking them and reducing them to dust.
Sierra’s jaw dropped as Velo and the soldiers sauntered closer.
“Hydrogen Peroxide. Your male friend here did us quite a favor. We’ve got loads of the stuff just lying around and wouldn’t have had any idea it was the perfect weapon against a dragon without his help. Of course, once you know there’s even a faint chance you might encounter a dragon again, it’s the kind of thing you make sure you’re prepared for,” he said, grinning.
Sierra noticed Nemi perching onto her shoulder and suddenly had a new reason to keep her distance from Velo. Other soldiers, including some from the other helicopters, joined him with similar weapons. There were a number of little dragons buzzing around, and the larger ones were just a short distance behind them. There was more than enough hydrogen peroxide in those tanks to wipe them all out.
Velo pointed the barrel directly at Sierra and pulled the trigger. Jerking to the side as the fluid hit her, she brushed Nemi off her shoulder, almost swatting him away. There was nothing she could do for him now.
“Why’d you do that?” Velo asked. “Now it’s all over your hair. From what I hear having it stick to your hair is awful.”
“Stop right there!” Sierra demanded, but she had little to back it up, and the silver squadron’s steady advance forced her to back down the hill toward the dragons.
“Let’s clean out these pests before they get into any private areas,” Velo said.
As Sierra backtracked, she looked over at Tommack, who had his hands up and his brows furrowed. She looked around for anything in the rubble they could use to even the fight, but it wouldn’t be long until they were flush against the dragons and getting sprayed with hydrogen peroxide.
The sounds of shifting stones and a smack forced Sierra to glance to her other side, where Tris had tripped on some of the rubble and fallen flat on her back. Without time to even gasp, she rushed over to help her up, but Velo was there as well, grabbing her by the shoulder and shoving her back.
“Hey!” one of the soldiers said to Tommack, pointing a gun at him to stop him from rushing in. Suddenly Velo had Tris on her feet and shoved her into the arms of another solider, who held her arms behind her back.
“Let go of me!” Tris demanded, struggling in vain. While the other soldiers had their weapons pointed at Sierra’s group, Velo ran his hand down the side of Tris’s face.
“You might actually save us a lot of wasted time wallowing around this shithole. Who knew Lowell better than you?”
“Give her back!” Sierra shouted, but it barely compelled Velo to glance over his shoulder before he began speaking to the other soldiers.
“Let’s get her back in Keize’s copters.”
“Mom!” Sierra shouted as they began dragging her mother back up the hill. Tris had gritted teeth and was kicking wildly, but she couldn’t get away. When Sierra drew her father’s sword and raced forward after Tris, Velo doused her again, struck her arm hard enough to make her drop the sword, and grabbed her neck.
“That look on your face is so precious, Sierra Bracken. The Wozniaks always believed the best way to hijack a family line was through the heirs, but the way you’re blubbering now makes me think we should go after the parents more often. After what you did to my son, it would be too merciful to kill you.”
He shoved Sierra back off her feet. The unforgiving pavement sent a shock through her body when she collided with it. Breathing was difficult. Feeling anything other than outrage was impossible. The soldiers forced Tris into the helicopters as their propellers started spinning and the dust was swept into the air.
Moist and filthy, Sierra couldn’t do more than sit up and watch them all fly away.
It struck Sierra that Velo would be more vulnerable to the dragons while they were flying in the helicopters, but losing her mother in the attack would be a dead certainty. It didn’t help that all of the dragons recoiled from her when she turned to them. The hydrogen peroxide covering her was drying, but it still made the dragons extremely wary.
She’d brought them here as her secret weapon, but now that they were defenseless there was nothing she could do to protect them. Kneeling down, her hair stuck to her cheeks, Sierra looked longingly at the dragon that had changed her life.
“I won’t let you die because of me, or any of you for that matter. I’ve got nothing to help you with, and you’ve got to go home. The bigger ones can help you get there this time.”
While Nemi hesitated, the others weren’t nearly as attached and seemingly had no qualms about cutting their losses and making the trip back across the Still Sea, over Madora where the Mind was building its new city, and to the cavern in the bottom of the canyon. But Nemi eventually followed her last command, joining the others.
Sierra had no doubt they’d be better off in the wild unknown than here with her in the messy human affairs of civilization.
CHAPTER 3
Taylor hitched a ride toward Ristle and then spent most of the cycle walking the last twenty miles to the Hockley family’s Vault.
On a bedrock table at the top of a hill, the expansive mansion was a wonder of wood, large glass windows, and thick steel beams that gave the edifice an aura of style and security. True to its name, the hallmark feature was the massive vault door, a wheel lined with pegs, dials, and cogs, and the only way up the steep rock table to that door was along a narrow bridge suspended from the side of the building. It was a point of pride for the Hockleys that no enemy of the family had ever broken in.
Taylor wondered if his surreptitious plans would make him the first.
He traversed the long bridge thinking about the last time he’d been here, long before his crossing ceremony and right before he entered the Youth Guard. In his early teens and prior, he’d spent almost as much time at the Vault as at the ClawLands and considered himself equally a part of both families, but it was the Bracken side that needed him to play a larger role. The Hockley’s other point of pride was that they never needed anyone for anything, but considering what was coming Taylor was likely to change that as well.
“And who might I say is calling?” the voice came through an intercom beside the vault door as clear as if Danby the butler were standing right there. Taylor half expected the entrance to be opened when they saw him arrive, but Taylor had an idea of what his mother required in order to be admitted.
“Taylor Hockley.”
A moment of silence ensued until the sound of metal sliding against metal signaled the vault door would open. While Taylor didn’t consider himself an enemy of the Hockleys, if they knew what he was there to do they would certainly consider him theirs. He enjoyed a moment of satisfaction over gaining entrance before stepping through the circular threshold into the mansion’s posh entryway.
Danby, wearing a blac
k servant’s uniform and holding himself uncomfortably rigid, approached from the room’s rear. On the way, he inspected a few statuettes on pedestals for their cleanliness.
“What an unexpected pleasure to have you joining us, sir. Shall I show you to your room?” he asked.
“There’s no point putting it off. Take me to my mother,” Taylor said, allowing the butler to lead the way.
Danby appeared to have aged considerably since Taylor was last here. He had bags under his eyes now and had packed on a sizable midsection. The butler was actually a distant relative, as was most of the house staff, who found it preferable to serve their cousins and second cousins rather than stray too far from the warm nest of the bank.
They ascended a few flights of stairs and started down a hallway. As Taylor recalled the layout of the house, the possibilities of where his mother would reasonably be were reduced to zero. Instead, he found himself at the door to his old room.
“I believe your mother’s exact words were that if she saw you disgracing that uniform in her presence, someone’s nutsack was going in a vice. Do spare us the risk of that,” Danby advised, pushing open the door.
Taylor stepped in to find that everything in his childhood room was exactly how it was the last time he left. Impeccably neat with shelves supporting toy figurines and books on finance he was still much too young for, the room aroused a strange sense of nostalgia. What if he had lived his life as a Hockley instead of a Bracken?
The only thing out of order in the room was a set of clothes on the narrow bed. They were ones he’d worn frequently when he was ten years old, and doubtlessly they were put out to embarrass him. When Taylor pulled the gray t-shirt over his torso, it only came down to his naval. One of the sleeves split against his bicep, and a good flex would’ve disintegrated the entire garment.