“That’s not true,” the vet replied immediately, even though he realized there was actually some truth to the boy’s observations. But any examinations he would conduct would be for the benefit of science. A living dragon was the most astounding discovery of the century. He certainly had no intention of killing it.
“Okay,” Bradley Wallace challenged, deciding to play it their way, folding his arms smugly against his chest. “Just how do you plan to keep him here? This flimsy cage wouldn’t hold Whilly at full strength for five minutes.” He tapped the steel bar with one fingernail.
“If necessary, we’ll keep him sedated until a stronger enclosure can be manufactured,” the doctor answered with a confident shrug.
“No!” the boy shouted with such vehemence that the doctor backed up even further. “You’ll kill him with drugs!”
The doctor looked suspicious. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take.”
“Don’t you understand, Bradley Wallace?” Dearborn took a step toward the cage. “We can’t let him go, even if it means killing him.”
“No!” This time the exclamation came from John, and all eyes turned toward him. “You guys don’t understand nothing. If Whilly dies, so will Bradley Wallace!” He and Bradley Wallace exchanged a long look, the latter smiling gratefully. John didn’t yet fully comprehend the symbiotic relationship between the boy and his dragon, but he suddenly and inexplicably knew that dangerous connection and it terrified him.
John’s declaration had a visible impact on Dearborn, who turned a startled expression toward Bradley Wallace. “Is that true?”
Bradley Wallace nodded. He’d already decided what to do, and simply awaited the right moment to act.
“He’s lying, Colonel,” the doctor scoffed, his voice as grating and screechy as a cat in a blender.
“I am not!” John shouted angrily. He detested that jerk of a doctor even more than the army colonel. And he didn’t like being called a liar.
“Be quiet, Doctor,” Dearborn commanded, like a parent to a bothersome child. “Why is that, Bradley Wallace?” Unlike the doctor, there was not even a hint of patronization in his voice.
Bradley Wallace merely shrugged. “I’m not really sure,” he admitted truthfully. Even Mr. O’Conner didn’t know. “He and I are just connected, you know, our minds and souls and stuff, I guess.” He realized as he listened to his lame explanation that he’d never tried to verbalize their link in words before. “If either of us dies, so will the other.”
He glanced down lovingly at the weakened dragon, who signalled that he was anxious. Bradley Wallace reassured him mentally that all would be well, that he had a plan. Sort of.
Dearborn rubbed a hand absently over his mouth, thoughtfully pondering the boy’s troubling revelations. This complication had not been anticipated. His expression showed so much hesitation that Bradley Wallace thought he might possibly release them. Dearborn considered his dilemma. He’d been in the army all his life, like his father before him. He’d always followed orders to the letter, never questioning the wisdom of his superiors like so many young people did today. Of course, he admitted to himself, today’s world was far more complex than when he was young. And this situation here was the most complex and unusual one yet, with absolutely no precedent that could be invoked. And the upshot of it all was the life of a civilian child could be at stake. In many ways, Bradley Wallace did remind him of his own son.
He finally sighed uncomfortably, looking Bradley Wallace squarely in the eye. “Well, Bradley Wallace, this is an unexpected development. I must contact my superiors for further orders.”
Bradley Wallace’s temper had reached its boiling point, and he now knew the only way out was by force. He flicked a quick glance over at John to get his attention, and then telepathically spoke to Whilly.
Whilly, are you strong enough to walk?
Yes, Bradley Wallace, but I’m still weak and feeling strange in my head, came the immediate reply.
I can still feel a lot of you in me, the boy continued, attempting to verify his suppositions. Does that mean I still have at least some of your powers?
Only until I regain all my strength, the dragon confirmed.
Good. I’m gonna to use them to get us out of here. John will help you walk.
John watched the exchange carefully, certain that thoughts were passing between them, but unable to understand the specifics. Again he felt that pang of jealousy toward Bradley Wallace’s special relationship with Whilly.
“You’re not going to keep me here, Colonel,” Bradley Wallace addressed the little man defiantly, gripping the steel bars with more hatred toward captivity than he ever thought possible.
“And just how do you propose to get out?” the doctor asked in amusement.
That jerk’s pressing his luck, thought John, eyeing the rigid form of Bradley Wallace expectantly.
“The same way I stopped the Golden Gate Bridge,” Bradley Wallace answered calmly, so calm it was frightening.
He had control.
Genuine fear flickered across the doctor’s arrogant face, and he stepped behind Dearborn for protection. Although the colonel held his ground, he did flinch noticeably at the boy’s statement.
Bradley Wallace knew the time was now.
He summoned up the power, carefully controlling the roaring sensation in his head, directing the combined human-dragon strength like the knife of a skilled surgeon. Effortlessly, he flung open the cell door, snapping the thick steel lock as though it was made of balsa wood. His eyes blazed scarlet again as he stepped from the cage toward the unmoving Dearborn who appeared determined to stand his ground.
“I had a feeling you might object to staying, Bradley Wallace,” he said in a controlled poker voice, playing out the only hand he had left. “So I planned ahead.”
Almost imperceptibly, as he talked, Dearborn pressed a button on some kind of beeper device attached to his belt. Bradley Wallace stepped forward quickly, and then heard the sound of many running footsteps in the corridor. He whirled to face the open doorway as six young soldiers armed with rifles charged into the lab.
“Look out, Bradley Wallace!” John shouted from somewhere to his left. But Bradley Wallace didn’t need the warning. He had no intention of being shot again. The soldiers raised their weapons to firing positions, awaiting Dearborn’s order. But Bradley Wallace wasn’t going to give the Colonel a chance. He sucked in a tremendous breath, deeper and more powerful than was humanly possible, and then exhaled directly at the line of waiting soldiers.
A burst of searing flame shot forth from his mouth in a carefully controlled projectile, engulfing the rifles and the hands holding them in a blast of heat so intense the soldiers cried out in pain and threw the twisted, melted weapons to the floor.
The doctor cried aloud in fear, and even Dearborn uttered an audible gasp. He now understood there was much more to this boy than any of them imagined.
“Now calm down, Bradley Wallace,” he advised carefully, feeling much less confident than he had a few minutes ago.
“They weren’t going to shoot unless they had to. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Bradley Wallace had retracted the sheet of flame, and now turned
his eerie gaze on Dearborn, who squirmed uncomfortably at the sight of those unnaturally glowing eyes. “In that case, Colonel, don’t try to stop me. Or next time it’ll be you.” His anger seethed within him, and he knew he’d do anything to assure Whilly’s safety. Even kill. “John,” he called without taking his eyes off Dearborn.
John broke away from the startled soldier, his mind balking at what he’d just seen Bradley Wallace do, and yet he thought it was awesome, too. Realizing he still clutched Josette’s music box in his hand, he absently slipped it into his jacket pocket and hurried to Bradley Wallace’s side.
“Go get Mr. O’Conner and bring him here,” Bradley Wallace ordered. “If any soldiers give you trouble, just yell and I’ll incinerate the Colonel.”
Joh
n gasped in shock. He never expected to hear such words from the usually gentle Bradley Wallace, deciding it must be the dragon-influence, the animal ferocity taking over. “B.W., you can’t,” he urged nervously.
“These guys think they can push us around because they’re the government and we’re nobody,” Bradley Wallace told him calmly, fighting to control his anger as efficiently as he did his power. But the anger seemed stronger. “I don’t want to hurt anybody, John, but Whilly and me are not gonna be locked up in cages the rest of our lives like those elephants out there. Now go get Mr. O’Conner!”
John nodded uncertainly, sensing that Bradley Wallace was walking a very fine line between reason and fury, and hoped no one did anything stupid while he was gone. He turned and dashed out into the corridor.
Dearborn met Bradley Wallace’s cold stare evenly. He’d been a soldier too many years to fear death, especially when he didn’t believe this child had it in him to kill. “Even if you should get away, Bradley Wallace,” he asked with a shrug, “where can you go? Where can you hide? You know we’ll come after you, and being on the run is almost as bad as being in a cage. Maybe worse.”
Bradley Wallace refused to let go his anger and recognize the logic in those words.
The Colonel’s notion pierced Whilly’s drug-clouded brain, however, and he silently pondered the question. Now that his existence had been discovered, could he ever be free again?
John burst excitedly back into the room, alone. “The old man’s gone!”
Bradley Wallace’s eyes narrowed. “Where is he?” he demanded of Dearborn.
The little man shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, Bradley Wallace. We weren’t holding him here against his will, if that’s what you think.”
“Yeah, I bet,” John snorted in disbelief.
“I don’t care if you believe me or not,” the Colonel continued. “The old man came here to us, claiming you were on your way and he’d wait for you.”
John looked dubious, but Bradley Wallace sensed that Dearborn spoke the truth, and nodded his acceptance of the man’s explanation.
Turning, then, Bradley Wallace focused his will on the massive sliding steel door that made up most of one wall behind him. He concentrated, determining how much power was needed, and then pushed outward with his mind. The entire door blew out with an explosion that shook the building, crashing to the ground outside in a heap of twisted metal.
The doctor cried out again, and Dearborn sucked in a sharp breath.
Now Bradley Wallace turned his attention to Whilly. The dragon had lumbered to his feet and stood inside the cage, wobbling slightly.
“John,” he spoke quietly, “Go outside with Whilly, please, and wait for me by the fountain.”
Whilly sent him a somewhat confused advisory to be careful, and he promised he would.
Try not to kill, Whilly added as John stepped into the cage to assist him, and Bradley Wallace nodded silently. As John cautiously led the unsteady dragon out of the cage and toward the blasted out wall, he suddenly received a mental transmission that shocked him to a standstill. John, Whilly asked, Is this what’s called being drunk?
John was stunned into a moment of silence, not certain for a moment whether he actually heard the voice or just imagined it.
You didn’t imagine it, the voice came again. And my head hurts. Am I drunk?
This time John found his tongue, and stammered, “Uh, no, you’re more like stoned, I guess. I’ve done it. It’s fun.”
Not being able to walk or think straight is fun? the dragon asked incredulously, his head swimming dizzily.
“Well,” John faltered, losing some of his conviction, “I used to think so.” This was incredible - Whilly talking directly to him. Wow!
They continued outside and hobbled slowly over the fallen, battered steel door. John looked back only once, when Whilly paused to let his eyes adjust to the glaring sunlight, and saw Bradley Wallace’s back as he stood squarely facing off against Dearborn as though daring the colonel to try anything.
“Be careful, man,” he whispered before gently directing Whilly around the side of the building toward the fountain.
In one corner of his mind, Bradley Wallace was watching the departure of his friends, and felt a small tingle of warmth at John’s concern for his safety. He held Dearborn and the injured soldiers at bay with the threat of his power until he knew that Whilly was nearing the rendezvous point outside. Then he began to release some of his churning energy, which was becoming a terrible drain on his largely untrained and unaccustomed mind. He felt the first hammer blows of a headache coming on, and knew he was pushing himself too hard.
“I’m leaving now,” he announced politely to Dearborn, as though excusing himself from a party. “Please don’t try to stop us. I really don’t want to hurt you.” He recalled much of what Mr. O’Conner told him of this new age, and added, “But Whilly’s more important than all of us.”
He turned quickly, releasing hold on most of his power, and ran for the ragged opening that a few minutes before had been a thick steel wall. A sudden impulse made him stop near the opening and cast one final look back at Dearborn. The little man hadn’t moved from his spot. “Thank you for trying to help him,” the boy said, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and enmity for the diminutive colonel who had at least kept Whilly alive long enough for Bradley Wallace to revive him. Then he turned to clamber over the fallen door and disappeared down the concrete walkway at a run.
Dearborn didn’t hesitate. He practically leapt for the phone on a nearby desk and pressed one of the red buttons. “This is Dearborn. The boy and his dragon have escaped. Make sure all exits are secure. The dragon can’t fly so they’ll be on foot. Use the zoo cleanup carts to get around on these pathways. Do not let them escape. I’ll be at the main entrance.”
He replaced the phone in its cradle carefully, looking out at the enormous opening and the zoo grounds beyond. “I’m sorry, Bradley Wallace,” he murmured sadly, thinking once again how much that boy resembled his son.
Panting heavily by the time he reached the fountain, Bradley Wallace felt the pain in his head increasing. He hoped Whilly regained his strength quickly so he wouldn’t have to expend so much energy alone. The dragon was lapping up the musky water in massive gulps, with John pacing anxiously by his side like a Buckingham Palace guard on duty. Bradley Wallace scanned the vast, empty courtyard nervously as he joined them. John broke into a smile of relief upon seeing him.
“What do we do now?” he asked hurriedly. “Can we fly outta here?”
Bradley Wallace shook his head. “Whilly can’t yet.” His eyes roved the area searchingly, finally settling on something across the way near the lion house. It was one of the zebra trains, trams painted with zebra stripes and used for tours around the zoo. It sat forlornly on the path as though abandoned suddenly and unexpectedly.
“There!” he pointed excitedly. “Maybe the keys are still in that
zebra tram.”
“Let’s find out,” John chimed in, moving to one side of Whilly while Bradley Wallace took the other. They moved as fast as the dragon could go past the dead fountain and several bleak enclosures containing lions and tigers and bears. Oh, my, Bradley Wallace’s addled brain added automatically, feeling relief when they finally arrived at the silent tram. His head beat more acutely, and he stumbled slightly under Whilly’s ponderous weight.
“Are you all right?” John asked when they stopped. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’m okay,” Bradley Wallace barked sharply, overcoming his moment of dizziness. Help me, Whilly, he begged silently.
I’m trying, Bradley Wallace, came the urgent reply. I’m getting stronger.
Bradley Wallace could feel the battle raging in Whilly’s bloodstream, as the dragon fought desperately to purge the debilitating drugs that were preventing his return to full strength, and silently prayed that Whilly would soon emerge victorious. His head pounded unmercifully.
Jo
hn looked into the front car, beneath the huge steering wheel, and cried out excitedly, “Hey, the keys are here!”
Bradley Wallace was eyeing the two large passenger trams attached to the small driver’s car when John moved to his side. “We’ll never get away in this thing if we don’t get rid of one of these cars,” John said. Then he looked at the dragon and frowned deeply. “And how’re we gonna get Whilly onto the other one?” He pointed out the low tram top and tightly arranged rows of seats.
Bradley Wallace’s head hurt, but he knew there was no other way. He concentrated, and the coupling between the first passenger car and the second snapped like a twig. Then he focused his mind on the top, and pushed. It flew off its poles and crashed into the bushes beside the lion house. Another quick push and all four of the bench-type seats tore loose from their base and flipped crazily into the same bushes.
John whistled in amazement. “I sure wish I could do that.”
“No you don’t,” Bradley Wallace told him, clutching at his aching head and remembering those stupid Excedrin headache commercials where each headache always had a different number.
He suppressed such ridiculous thoughts as he assisted John in getting Whilly up into the mangled tramcar.
The dragon was able to move with much greater ease, building hope in Bradley Wallace that he would soon be strong again. Having gotten Whilly settled the two boys scrambled around to the front, Bradley Wallace ending up in the driver’s seat. He stared down at the keys and felt a terrible realization creep over him.
“Wait a minute,” he turned to John in embarrassment. “I don’t know how to drive.”
John was busily scouting the surrounding area for signs of pursuit. “Then what are you doing over there?” he said irritably. “Move over, and let me drive!”
Bradley Wallace felt foolish as they silently traded places, and wondered how John knew about driving. “How did you learn to drive?”
A Boy and His Dragon Page 60