Smoke Eaters

by Sean Grigsby

  “You’re not in charge,” Thomlin said.

  “Shut up, all of you,” Sergeant Puck said. “We’re here.”

  I’d been too busy yammering with Thomlin to get a look at where we were. It was different riding in the back seat, without a good view of the approaching incident, with no power to dictate a plan of action. Craning my head, I looked through the windshield.

  The woods were ablaze, mostly on the ground, but it was picking up speed. Dark smoke churned in the wind, coursing through the treetops.

  Great. Brush fires sucked to begin with. I couldn’t imagine how much more of a bitch this was going to be, also dealing with peek-a-boo dragons.

  I took the lead and opened the door. Williams jumped down behind me while the other rookies got out on the other side.

  “Command mode activated,” a feminine voice said in my headset.

  “To communicate with the rest of us now,” Williams said, “you have to say the word ‘cast’ first.”

  Williams’s last word sounded through my helmet.

  “And to stop it,” she said, “just say ‘end cast.’”

  Walking toward the gathered rookies in front of the truck, Sergeant Puck secured her helmet. “Cast. Command to Slayer Three.”

  “Go ahead.” The voice through my helmet sounded exhausted and terrified.

  “We’re on scene in the southwest corner,” Puck said. “What are your orders?”

  There was static and then what sounded like screaming. The wind shifted and the smell of burning wood and ash intensified. I could taste it, tingling on my tongue.

  “They’re fucking everywhere!” the incident commander shouted.

  I was still green on how smoke eaters operated, but anytime I’d cursed over the radio at a fire, the shit had annihilated the fan.

  “Slayer 3,” the IC said. “They’re headed right for you!”

  All of us gathered closer to Puck. I swiveled my head to each side, searching for movement in the dirt.

  “Your sword.” Afu tapped me on the shoulder. “To deploy it, you–”

  “Hey!” A shirtless man ran through the woods, headed our way. Ash covered his long, blond hair and beard. He waved a skinny, tattooed arm at us as he lurched his way over logs and rocks. “My RV is on fire back there and–”

  The ground swelled underneath the man, tripping him, but he kept his balance as he fumbled forward. Just ahead of his path, the dirt disappeared like a sinkhole, and fire blasted out, scorching the poor bastard. As the burning man screamed, flailing fiery arms and falling forward, a large yellow snout snapped out of the hole and dragged him under.

  “Holy shit,” I said.

  “Put your eyes on!” Puck shouted.

  The other rookies hit the side of their helmets, which brought out the tinted goggles I’d seen Naveena and Renfro wearing the day before. Williams touched the button on my helmet before I had to ask.

  When the goggles connected, the forest in front of me changed. I saw the fire deep in the woods, blazing in brilliant purple. Below, however, there were at least six or seven red dragon-shaped blobs swimming through the dirt underneath. They all registered a few hundred degrees hotter than the wildfire.

  “Spread out,” Puck said.

  The other rookies obeyed. I was too busy looking at the thermal goggles and trying not to shit myself. Dropping my head, I looked at the ground below my boots. An enormous, red shape sped toward me.

  Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and it makes you do crazy things. I jumped. Straight up. It was like a catapult had launched me toward the sky, effortless. But I was too scared to appreciate the exhilaration of my first jump.

  I retracted my therma goggles – that infrared stuff was annoying – and hit my suit’s jump extender. The ground, now twenty feet below, exploded in chunks of dirt before a popper dragon emerged, gnashing its fat jaws and countless teeth from side to side, searching for me.

  I laughed. “Fuck you!”

  The dragon leapt out of the hole and raised its head toward me. Looking like a cross between a frog and a crocodile, the popper was yellow-scaled and the size of a Buick. A large, shovel-shaped horn protruded from the top of its snout, and its neon orange eyes flickered in the sun.

  Something I’d like to have learned earlier in class was that poppers have exceptional hearing. And damn good aim. With a wet, forceful choking sound, it shot a ball of fire at me as my power suit eased toward the ground and the awaiting popper.

  I scrambled in the air like a fish out of water, trying to shift my position, but physics wouldn’t allow it. The popper’s fireball hit my leg and sent me flying into the nearest tree trunk, ten feet from the ground. I hit a couple branches and oofed when I finally hit the dirt.

  My muscles were sore, but I was able to get to my feet. I think I might have also peed in the suit a little.

  Quick steps pounded the ground as the popper stampeded at me, grunting like a sumo running a marathon. I tried to jump again, but the suit was still charging from the last one. I threw my arms forward, hoping the laser sword would extend by sheer will. Nothing happened, and the popper was about to tackle me.

  I didn’t know what else to do, so I readied myself and grabbed the popper’s horn right before it would have impaled me. I dug in with my heels as the dragon pushed me back, snapping its slobbery teeth. The power suit gave me some extra strength. There was no way in hell I would have otherwise been able to stop a charging scaly.

  I shoved back against the popper and held it from charging forward any farther, then punched it in the eye as many times as I could before I started to lose my grip on it.

  The popper roared and gnashed more violently, until it suddenly stopped and made that nasty choking sound again.

  I flinched and let go, rolling out of the way as it blasted another ball of flame from its gullet. I smelled hot metal as I crawled away from the popper. Bastard nearly flame-scalped me.

  The ground behind me bloated, and I grabbed the closest thing I could get my hands on – one of the popper’s three-toed hind claws. I pulled with everything I had and put the scaly between me and the churning dirt, where another popper burst forth. The new arrival snapped its jaws as expected, but its teeth found the yellow ass of its sister scaly.

  The bitten dragon roared and snapped toward its attacker, but the second popper didn’t realize it was munching on one of its own until after a huge chunk of dragon meat had been ripped away and the victim lay on the ground whimpering in its death throes.

  The new popper jumped out of the hole and nudged its dead sibling with the tip of its shovel horn. I readied for another fight while searching my periphery for any other smoke eater.

  “Cast,” I shouted, remembering the voice command. “Mayday, mayday, mayday. I need help!”

  Turning to me, the dragon growled and damn it if it didn’t sound angry. Its orange eyes burned like coals before it charged, just like the last one. Seeing no reason to change my previous strategy, I dug in and prepared to grab another scaly by the horn.

  But this one turned its head to the side as it came at me, swallowing my hand and forearm as it shoved me onto my back. It bit down onto the armor, shaking its head so fast, my vision blurred. I didn’t feel much pain besides the terrible pressure on my power suit, but I was pretty sure the armor would give way at any second.

  I tried to pull my arm from its jaws, but that just made it bite down harder, grunting as thick gobs of spit dripped onto my face like gasoline-smelling honey. I gagged, but had to keep my mouth closed so the spit wouldn’t drip in.

  Punching the bastard’s eyes with my free fist, I again yanked my arm back. The popper loosened its grip enough for my arm to slide a little, and when it did, the sides of my suited arm extended like vertical car doors, and a thick, white laser sword lengthened, right through the back of the popper’s head.

  The dragon screeched once before it dropped dead – right on top of me.

  Scaly spit covered my face, and my arm was still lodge
d in its teeth as my laser sword continued cooking its flesh, and on top of all of that, the crushing weight allowed me only a tiny bit of air each breath. But, thanks to the power suit, it was something.

  “Will… one of you… guys… come help me,” I managed to squeak out.

  Afu’s voice crackled into my helmet. “On my way. Where you at?”

  “I’m the… asshole… under the… popper.”

  “I see you,” Afu said. “Oh, man.” My fellow rookie appeared behind the popper’s dangling head and grabbed it by the horn. “End cast. You push, I’ll pull.”

  It took more time and energy than I cared to expend, but we got the scaly off me with a wet flop of its body to the ground.

  Afu nodded to my right arm. “Guess you figured out how to use the laser sword without me.”

  “The popper did that,” I said. “I have no idea how to shut it off.”

  I waved the wide sword to and fro. It thrummed and shimmered with each slash.

  Afu said, “Just hit that button behind the sword.”

  It would be that damn simple, wouldn’t it? I pressed the button he indicated, and the sword dissolved back into the suit before the two “wings” sealed back onto my arm.

  “What about the foam gun, or the laser?” I stood, bending over, hands on my knees as I gulped air.

  “That’s your partner’s weapons. You’re supposed to stay together and work in tandem.”

  “And my partner is?”

  Afu wrinkled his lips. “Thomlin. He’s been pairing with Sergeant. Maybe he just followed her again this time, you know, out of habit.”

  “I’m sure that’s what it is. Where is everybody else?”

  “I told Williams to go with Puck and Thomlin when you called for help. They’d be farther into the woods by now. They found another cluster of poppers.”

  I hit the button for my thermal goggles and looked at the ground around us.

  No red blobs. Groovy.

  But the forest fire still raged, growing hotter and faster. I hadn’t heard anything about fire crews arriving or even being on the way, which wasn’t a surprise. On dragon calls, firefighters stayed back until the smoke eaters had done their thing. But I’d have at least expected them to radio that they were waiting to be called in. Buzzard’s Roost was close to several homes – a wild land urban interface, we used to call it. They didn’t have the benefit of an ash barrier like some of the other neighborhoods.

  “What about that shirtless guy?”

  “Nothing we can do for him,” Afu said.

  “All right,” I said. “No reason to stay here yapping, then. Let’s go join the others.”

  Afu nodded and we jogged deeper into the roasting woods. When we came to a steep climb, I considered just power-jumping to the top, but didn’t want to be in a situation where I needed it and would have no juice for my suit. So we trudged up the rise. My legs and muscles burned, and I seriously wondered why I hadn’t just retired or let the mayor fire me. This shit was exhausting. But we made it to the top…

  …and found three fire droids digging a trench in the forest floor.

  “Who called in these clowns?” I stopped in my tracks as Afu came up behind.

  He wiped sweat from his eyes and watched the fire droids working on the fire break – a technique to contain forest fires. “I have no idea what they’re doing here.”

  The droids’ eyes glowed blue, and their hulking bodies were bent over as they used huge, metal rakes at the end of their arms to dig a thick line through the woods. They moved in sync, digging and stepping backwards, repeating the same process, like a mobile factory line.

  “Forget them,” I said. “We need to find Puck and the rest.”

  We moved forward, and the droids rose from their work. In unison, they stomped over to meet us, creating a three-droid-wide blockade.

  “We’re sorry,” they said as one, their blue eyes shaking to the movement of their robotic, used-car-salesman voices. “There’s a fire, and we can’t let you through.”

  “We’re smoke eaters, you metal idiots,” Afu said.

  I couldn’t give a damn about having a conversation with a bunch of rust buckets, so I moved to walk around them. They shifted to block me, clanging their metal arms and legs against their bodies as they did.

  “We’re sorry,” they said again. “There’s a fire, and we can’t let you through.”

  “Our crew is trapped back there!” Afu yelled. “They’re going to die.”

  “You can either move,” I said, glaring at the middle fire droid’s fake eyes, “or I’ll make a path.”

  The fire droids raised their pointy rakes. “We’re sorry. There’s a fire–”

  I pushed the button for my laser sword and cut two of their rakes off. With the backswing, I severed the middle one’s head, and then shoved my white laser blade into the next one’s torso until I’d shoved it onto its back. The droids continued their incessant pre-scripted bullshit, dropping the octave until their voices warbled into nothing when the circuits died.

  To my left, I could have almost sworn the remaining fire droid had moved to swing at Afu. But the big man had followed my lead and sliced the robot into two dead hunks of metal.

  “Did that thing try to attack you?” I asked.

  Afu smiled, raising his sword. “I didn’t give it a chance.”

  “That’s not what I meant. They’re not supposed to be able to do that.”

  There was no such thing as artificial intelligence. Even Kenji’s actions were programmed into him. He couldn’t start giving his opinion or dictating Walt Whitman – unless we paid for those upgrades. If these fire droids had the capacity to attack people, it was because someone had included that option in their metal heads.

  Afu slapped my armor with the back of his gloved fingers. “Come on.”

  “Would you two quit gabbing and come do some work like the rest of us?” Puck’s grating voice came in. “Brannigan, turn off your radio, for God’s sake.”

  I rolled my eyes. “End cast.”

  We found Puck and the other two in a clearing in the middle of the woods. A wall of fire lay behind them, speeding closer, and three poppers were running around them like a herd of ostriches avoiding capture.

  “Oh shit.” Afu launched himself into the air.

  I did the same, leaping with him toward the other smoke eaters.

  From the higher vantage, I got a good view of the surrounding fire and my team below. It wasn’t looking good. We were uphill and leeward to the fire. In layman’s terms: we were fucked. Fire travels uphill at incredible speeds, and with the aid of wind, it was even worse.

  Thomlin and Williams shot their lasers at the poppers and missed terribly. The dragons were too damn fast. Puck swiped at one with her laser sword and caught it in the leg, sending it tumbling over the dirt. Seeing the one dragon fall, the other poppers quit their marathon and moved in to attack.

  I dropped in and landed near a popper, sinking my laser into its head. Afu landed in front of the other and kicked it in the face. If I’d tried that, I would have been on my back with my head in a popper’s jaws. But Afu’s kick sent the popper flipping onto its side. Williams ran up and blasted it with her lasers.

  “Now that’s team work,” Afu said, giving Williams a high five.

  I had no one to celebrate with when I turned around. Instead, I saw two big-ass, flaming trees falling to block our only escape.

  “Uh oh.” I turned back to the others.

  Their faces reflected my sentiment.

  The wind shifted, and that’s when things got interesting. Strengthening from the fresh blast of air, the fire flew up the trees, creating a circular inferno around us, burning everything wherever we looked, and we were next.

  “Let’s jump over those trees,” Thomlin said.

  I stomped over to him. “You mean the ones on fire? You’ll be incinerated if you try. Plus, Afu and I are still charging our thrusters.”

  “Better some than all,” Tho
mlin shouted.

  Afu said, “Let’s jump into those popper holes.”

  “You want to ring the dinner bell, too?” Puck grabbed him by the back of his neck. “Dig in!” She looked at me. “I’m rusty on this. Do you know much about wildfires, Brannigan?”

  “A little.”

  I looked around at the flames approaching like a fiery mouth. I’d never been in a situation like this. I was used to fighting house fires, cars, maybe a dumpster. A two-day course on wildfires was just a boring necessity too long ago to remember.

  Balling my right fist, I looked down to my sword arm.

  “How much heat can we take?” I asked. “If the flames get within a few feet, would we be able to stand it?”

  “Better than a normal person.” Puck jerked her head toward where a branch snapped in the fire. “But we’ll still burn if it touches us.”

  “Bunch together,” I yelled.

  They were quick to do what I said, even Douchebag Thomlin, who cringed at being so close to the other rookies. I extended my laser sword and pierced it into the ground. The dirt smoked and churned as if I was making mud pie.

  Bent over, I dragged the sword around the other smoke eaters, much like the droids had been doing earlier with the fire break, making the diameter as big as I could with such limited time.

  When I’d connected the lines to finish the circle, I pointed to Williams and Thomlin. “Fill it with foam.”

  Williams punched a button on her arm and shot the thick goop into the moat I’d made. Thomlin bent over and did the same. When they’d finished, I jumped into the circle with everyone else, just shy of getting my ass burned by the oncoming inferno.

  “This was a stupid idea!” Thomlin hollered as if a centipede had crawled up his rear end. He leaned into Puck for protection.

  “You want out?” The sergeant looked like she’d shove him out of the circle.

  The firestorm blew in, eating every twig and leaf it touched, giving off heat worse than anything I’d felt before. But it was mainly uncomfortable, barely painful and only slightly stinging to the eyes.

  The fire passed us by as quickly as it’d come. The flames never crossed the foam circle we’d made, and the radiant heat didn’t sear our lungs thanks to our gift. None of us wanted to leave the circle until we were certain we wouldn’t get cooked, as if the fire was going to backtrack and nab us outside our ring of protection.