by Alan Marble
He also wondered what Abe hoped to accomplish. The big man stood there, cool as a cucumber with the gun in his hand, while the whole time Jonah was shaking. He had already put his hands back at his sides, continually glancing back and forth, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He expected the gunfire to begin at any time, he expected to be cut down before he knew what was happening, and the anticipation was starting to become downright painful.
“Well?” Abe spoke up once again, flashing that winning grin. “Which one of you is the betting man? Any of you? Who is going to take the first shot?”
No one answered at first, and when the lead guard finally spoke up again his voice was somewhat subdued. “Sir, I will give you one more chance …”
Abe cut him off before he could finish. “No, I didn’t ask for more chances, and it looks to me like none of you are willing to be the one to take a chance, either. This is what we call an old fashioned standoff, boys. Unfortunately I don’t do standoffs. I play to win. Hey, kid, remember what I told you to do? Well now’s the time.”
Jonah blinked at him in confusion. “What?”
“Duck,” the bald man said, simply enough, before he squeezed the trigger of his gun. Almost too late Jonah remembered and threw himself to the ground, vaguely aware of Abe’s shot going high, over the heads of the guards and shattering a light fixture near the back of the room. The guards reacted almost immediately, firing off one volley of shots after another, a veritable hail of bullets crisscrossing the room, the constant boom of gunfire echoing in the small space again and again with enough ferocity to mimic the rumble of thunder.
Jonah didn’t realize he was screaming as he watched Abe fall limply to the ground, fearing the man had been shot, riddled with bullets and cut down without taking out a one of the guards. He cowered behind the heavy podium, aware of the sound of the wood being shredded and torn by the projectiles screaming around him, joining the sound of glass being shattered again and again.
The mad cacophony lasted only seconds, the guards emptying their collective magazines in the direction of the podium over the space of only a few heartbeats, but it felt like forever to Jonah as he cowered, constantly expecting that one shot that would find its mark and end his life. Somehow it never came, and when the hail of bullets ended he was amazed to find himself still breathing.
Still cowering, still cringing at the sound of glass falling and shattering against the ground for a moment longer before that, too, came to an end, leaving the conference room in an eerie and uncomfortable sort of silence. His ears rang almost painfully against the sudden lack of gunfire, but even that was a strange reminder that he’d survived.
He was even more shocked to hear Abe’s voice cutting through the ringing in his ears. “Come on, kid, let’s go!”
Turning around to find the source of the voice, he was slightly stunned to see the man standing in front of the window, now shattered to bits by the hail of gunfire and left open, gaping to the darkness beyond, a few random papers fluttering on the chill breeze that floated into the conference room. As Abe stepped out and leaped into the darkness, it suddenly all made sense.
“I’ll be damned. He had it figured out all along,” he muttered to himself, getting to his feet and sprinting for the open window. Just as he was about to jump out, himself, he turned around to get one last look at the guards, watching as they stood with gaping expressions while he dove out into the darkness.
TWENTY ONE
They had flown for nearly three hours straight after their flight from downtown Seattle, much farther than any single flight Jonah had attempted thus far. He had tried to follow Abe’s lead and soar when the currents allowed for it, giving him some kind of rest, but when they had finally arrived at the point the bigger drake had chosen to set down Jonah was more than ready for a break, his muscles eager to relax.
Hints of dawn had been visible on the horizon when they escaped from the Syndicate headquarters, the eastern horizon tinged with pale color, but they had been well enough away from the city before it had grown light enough for them to worry about being sighted. They had been forced to take a long detour around a naval base of some kind, Abe warning that they would need to keep a good distance away to avoid running in to trouble, adding more time to their flight.
The scenery had been beautiful, at least. When enough light had filtered into the sky and the pair had lifted high into the air he could make out the numerous arms and bays of the Puget Sound far below, glistening gray that hugged up against the verdant islands and strips of land below. From so high in the air it had a sort of peaceful look to it, and he could not help to imagine that it was serene down there, below.
Before too long, however, the seascape had given way to a range of rugged mountains that rose up before them. Not as tall or striking as the granite sentinels of the mountains he had seen in California, this mountain range was nevertheless impressive to his eyes used to the flat landscape of Florida. Many of the peaks were lined with snow, and unlike their travel in California this flight took them directly over the range. To his eyes the mountains seemed to go on forever, one wrinkled valley after another cutting across the fast expanse of terrain.
It was also as remote as it was rugged. The signs of civilization had quickly ended at the foot of the mountains, and as they settled into one of the valleys he constantly looked for any hint of mankind, only to see none. Jonah knew places like this existed, all over the country, and in many places in the world, but somehow it still struck him as wild to see it with his own eyes.
At last Abe had picked a ridge line, coasting toward it and settling down on the bare rock, near where the snow covered the ground. There seemed to be nothing extraordinary about this spot, nothing to give Jonah a hint as to why they had settled in there, but for the moment he did not bother asking why. His lungs relished the opportunity to refresh themselves.
Abe broke the silence first, peering away into the distance. “I’m afraid that we’re going to run into some difficulty here, kid. I really wanted to get out of that place unnoticed, but … well. Things didn’t go exactly as planned. We made a bit more of a ruckus than I had hoped.”
“A bit of a ruckus?” Jonah shook his head, sighing as he looked out into the distance as well, perhaps hoping to spy what the bigger dragon was gazing at. “That’s something of an understatement.”
With a bit of a nod Abe chuckled at that, a sound that was more hoarse and somewhat gravelly when he was in dragon form - but somehow still managed to convey all the mirth that his voice usually held. “So it is. Look, I’m going to be honest with you here. The past several days have all gone by rather quickly for you, but it hasn’t been out of choice. None of us really wanted to throw you in this kind of a grinder, expect you to learn everything we’ve tossed at your way. There just really hasn’t been much of a choice.”
It had been something Jonah had wanted to bring up more than once. To say that the last week had been overwhelming was an understatement in and of itself; trying to accept and digest the fact that dragons were real was hard enough on its own without having to add in the fact that he was one, himself. “I still have so many questions. There is so much I don’t know, don’t understand … it feels like I’m going into all of this blind, Abe. It’s scary.”
“I know. It’s just, it’s been bad timing. We didn’t expect to bring you into this, we expected to go on this little adventure and leave you alone, but the Rebekah called and told me you’d gotten the token, that the bull drake had attacked. We didn’t have a choice at that point.” The big dragon heaved a bit of a sigh of his own. “And here again I’m about to throw you into a difficult situation unprepared.”
“What do you mean, by that?”
“They’re going to be expecting us, up there,” he responded, gesturing toward the distant ridge with a little flick of his head. “They’ve probably got more than just a few guards with guns, too. Ol’ Carl is probably there. Bull drakes, mages too.”
Jonah turned to
look at him with a bit of a frown. “This supposed to be some kind of pep talk? Because all you’re accomplishing is making me wonder if this is a suicide mission after all. How the hell are we supposed to stand up to all of that?”
Abe tried to sound positive, but even his voice carried a strain of doubt with it. “There are some advantages to coming in only a pair, like we are. We’re quicker and more nimble than a whole flight of dragons. They probably aren’t expecting just the two of us. We might even be able to slip in under their radar and still get a bit of jump on them, after all. But more than that, kid, we’re fighting for the right thing. That always helps.”
“If you insist.” Jonah sighed once more, tucking his wings against him as the chill of the mountain air nipped at his sides a bit. “Still, I don’t know what good I’m supposed to be. I don’t know anything about these mages you keep talking about, and I’m fairly useless against those bull drakes. I don’t even spit fire or do any tricks. I don’t have any special, ah, dragon powers or whatever you call them.”
“Sure you do. We all do,” he answered.
“Care to let me in on the secret? I sure as hell don’t know anything about it.”
Abe huffed quietly again, turning to look at him critically. “Afraid that’s not something I can do for you, kid. We’re all a little different, and as a result it’s not something that can be taught. You just have to discover it for yourself, and I’m afraid I can’t tell you how to do that, either. If it makes you feel any better, I was in a similar boat. Was sure for ages I had no abilities myself, or that I’d never discover them. Took me over a hundred years before I did.”
“That’s not much consolation given the situation,” he replied a little morosely. “What do you do, anyway? I don’t think I’ve seen you use any power or anything.”
“That’s because I don’t really use it, it’s more of a defensive capability. Turns out that I’m completely immune to the effects of other dragons’ abilities. Dragon fire, acid, you name it. Even ol’ Carl’s Power of Persuasion.”
Jonah frowned lightly at that. “Power of Persuasion?”
Abe nodded a little slowly to that. “It’s one of the rarer and more dangerous powers a dragon can have. It’s not really an attack, but it allows him to put an immense amount of persuasion behind a single command, so much so that his target is unable to resist, man or dragon. You saw him use it against Jenna back in the valley; all he did was tell her to sleep, and she was helpless to do anything other than pass out.”
“I guess I can see how that’s dangerous,” he agreed. “But then why didn’t he just use it on all of us? Seems a little like an unfair advantage.”
“Maybe it is an unfair advantage, and maybe the universe does have some sense of fairness to it. Our abilities take a lot out of us, physically, and the greater the exertion the more it takes out of us. The amount of effort Carl has to put into commanding one of us depends on how difficult it would normally be to convince us to do that very same thing. To persuade a hungry dragon to eat would be easy, but to persuade an angry attacking dragon to go to sleep is difficult. It took a lot out of him, and left him unable to try again until he gathered his strength anew.”
Jonah found it difficult to listen, difficult to concentrate on what he was saying. It was once more going over his head, once again seemed all too bizarre and convenient. If it weren’t for the fact that he were perched atop a mountain in the form of a dragon, he would again be tempted to think that the whole thing was some kind of strange, elaborate setup designed to take advantage of him in one way or another.
He was even still tempted to believe that he was trapped in some sort of vivid, extended dream, unable to wake up, unable to get back to the real world. He knew that wasn’t the case, he knew that what he was seeing, hearing and feeling were very much real, but the desire to dismiss them all as some kind of fantasy was more than simply tempting, more than just alluring.
All he could do was sigh and shake his head. “Can I ask you a question, Abe?”
“Shoot, kid. Whatever you want to know.”
“Do you think we can do this? I mean, do you really think we have a chance?”
The big dragon seemed to pause for a moment, thinking about the question - or perhaps his response - before answering. “Sure I do, kid. Don’t forget, I’m a betting man. The way I see things, there’s always a chance, no matter how slim. The longer the odds, the bigger the payout, and really that’s what being a betting man is always about. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t think there was always a chance, and let me tell you, this is one chance definitely worth taking.”
Jonah breathed in heavily. “Then what do you think our odds are?”
Abe breathed a deep, gravelly chuckle at that. “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?”
“No.” He shook his head and closed his eyes, sighing once more. “No.”
“Then it’s time to roll the dice, kid. Every minute we sit here gabbing is one minute longer that the Syndicate has to do whatever it is that they’re doing to our friends. Let’s go make a difference.”
“Wait,” Jonah interjected, opening his eyes again and staring back at the larger dragon. “What’s our plan?”
“Our plan? Follow my lead. Or don’t. I can’t tell you what to do this time, Jonah, so just do what feels right. This is the real thing, we’re fighting for our lives, for the lives of our loved ones, that big desperate fight where the stakes are too high to plan on doing anything except succeeding. Got it?”
Abe did not give him a chance to respond, the big dragon simply turning his attention back to the distant ridge before pushing himself up and forward, heaving his wings and taking flight. Feeling as if he had no other choice than to follow, Jonah let his own wings unfurl to catch the air and go in pursuit.
Their destination was not immediately clear to him, other than the fact that they were headed toward the far end of the valley, where the bare stone of the mountain ridge rose higher than where they had rested only moments before, the peaks well covered with snow that did not look like it melted even in the middle of summer. It was not until they had crossed the valley and drew closer to the opposing mountains that he could finally see it, an unnatural sort of blemish against the natural rock, a few sharp, regular lines that did not look like they belonged.
It was little more than a bunker tucked against the mountainside, as far as he could see. Built from a concrete whose color closely mimicked that of the natural stone it was well hidden, but even when he realized it was there, there was little to see. A small, low-lying structure with no more than a pair of windows open to the cold mountain air, flat and completely unadorned, with no identifying marks.
There was also no sign that it was occupied, nor any sign that it had been in recent times. He thought he could make out the vestiges of an old roadway that had been carved up the mountainside, hints of switchbacks rising up from the floor of the valley below, but if a road had existed there it had not been used for some time. As he passed overhead and got a good look, he could see the rocky scree that had built up along either side of the bunker looked undisturbed.
He was about to ask Abe if there had been some mistake, if they had come to the wrong place, when he heard a low, trumpeting call sounding from just to his side. Whipping his head around to find the source of the sound, his eyes went wide when he saw the great emerald dragon rising up from behind a smaller ridge line, previously hidden behind an outcropping of rock, her wings now spread wide as she sailed to meet them.
“Jenna,” he said out loud to himself, realizing who it was.
While she was still some ways away from him she stopped, pulling her wings back so that she briefly hovered in place, inhaling deeply, her chest swelling before she let it all out in one single burst. Jonah watched with a curious sense of detachment as the air in front of her suddenly convulsed, distorting her image into a weird, twisting image like trying to watch her through a swirling glass of water. The
distortion grew as it neared him, and he was practically mesmerized by the sight of it, incapable of moving until it was too late.
Just before the shock wave caught him, Abe came about and threw his large frame between Jonah and the attack. Much of it dissipated as it crashed against him but he was unable to absorb it all, and the air around Jonah suddenly came alive with the sound of a sharp crack, the shock wave smashing into him with enough force to knock the breath from his chest, enough force to slap his wings back and fold them against his sides.
Limp and useless, he fell from the sky as quickly as a stone. The shock had dazed all of his senses, leaving him unable to react, but he was coherent enough to be aware of Abe flapping nearby, beside him, above him perhaps, and he could feel talons scrabbling against his scales, clutching, finally snagging him before he landed on something hard and unforgiving.
At some point after beginning his fall to the ground, he had unwillingly reverted back to his normal, human form. Perhaps it was after the impact, either way he could not tell, but when he came back to his senses he was lying prone on a flat concrete surface, his head throbbing, blue sky and the hint of a mountain peak visible in the corner of his vision. For a brief moment he was unable to move, his muscles refusing to cooperate.
A familiar voice reached his ears, however, one that made his skin crawl. “Ah, brother Ibrahim. We’ve been expecting you, I just wish you hadn’t kept us waiting so long.” The voice undoubtedly belonged to Carolus.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Carl. We’ve been a little busy.”
“Making a mess of the offices back in Seattle, so I heard. Really that was quite uncalled for, you could have given me a call and I would have only been too happy to let you know where to come.”