Smoke Eaters

by Sean Grigsby

Afu shrugged and wrapped an arm around Williams. When we got to the carousel, Naveena was digging around the control booth.

  “Want me to help you?” Afu asked.

  Naveena shot him a warhead of a look.

  The big guy raised his hands and backed away. He turned to Williams. “Want to come find a horse?”

  “Shit,” Williams said. “I want one of those big seats and another spark.”

  They headed off, and I waited for Naveena, leaning my back against the control booth. I don’t know why I stayed. We sure as shit weren’t a couple. Hell, I don’t even think Afu and Williams were an official item either. But a dynamic had been created by drugs, booze, and an even pairing of male and female.

  “There!” Naveena said, lifting her head and flicking her hair back. She smiled at me, and a weird feeling settled in my gut.

  The carousel lights sparkled as it began to spin, the horses and dolphins and other animals rising and falling as they raced in an unwinnable contest.

  “Come on,” Naveena told me, jumping on the carousel as it picked up speed.

  Of course, I followed right behind her.

  We passed Afu and Williams, who sat in a clam-shaped seat. They’d been kissing, but stopped to giggle and hide their faces when we walked by.

  “What do you want to ride?” Naveena asked me, appraising the selection.

  I stood beside a winged dragon bobbing up and down, but shook my head. “Let’s go classic. How about those horses over there.”

  “OK.”

  Naveena took the inside horse, a red-painted mount with its tongue hanging out. I took the gray one beside it. A song played from the speakers, one from long before I was born, but I knew it thanks to my grandpa, who’d played me all kinds of olden tunes.

  “Man,” I said, holding on to my horse’s pole with both hands. “This song is an oldie but a goodie.”

  “So are you.” She smiled, but then looked away and said, “What’s the name of the song?”

  I thought for a second. “I forget the guy who sings it, but it’s called ‘Fooled Around and Fell in Love.’”

  “Did you dance to it at your prom?”

  “Shit.” I laughed. “It was recorded like a hundred and fifty years ago.”

  We rode together for a few minutes, hearing about a guy who considered himself a player, never settling with one girl, but who fucked up anyway and fell in love. I kept my eyes forward, actually starting to enjoy myself, taking in the centrifugal pull of the carousel and the equally strong tug of the bourbon. The lights above were hypnotic, even though they twitched and threatened to die. The last thing I expected to feel was the cool touch of Naveena’s hand.

  I scrunched my eyebrows and looked at our linked fingers first, then moved up to Naveena’s face as she moved in for a kiss. I tried to retreat, and maybe it was the bourbon, but I slipped the other way and fell right into her lips.

  High as she was, she didn’t notice it was an accident. She pulled back, leaning in to her fake horse, smiling wide. Her eyes sparkled with carousel lights.

  I turned and faced the front of the horse as the ride slowed to a stop.

  Oh, shit.

  Chapter 17

  I made up a dumb excuse to go back to the car – claiming to want more bourbon – while Naveena and the others broke into an abandoned concession stand, searching for cotton candy. They said that it was the only type of fair food most likely not to have spoiled. Williams had thrown me her keys so I could unlock the coupe.

  The real reason I went to the car was quite the opposite. I wanted to clear my head, regretted drinking in the first place. My best hope was that Naveena would forget anything had happened between us and would return to her regular, grumpy self by the time I saw her the next week.

  But what about me?

  I wouldn’t forget. Bourbon or no. Leaning against the trunk of the coupe, I started wondering if I even wanted to forget. Naveena was swelteringly attractive, and it wasn’t like Sherry had been Mrs Wonderful to me lately. What if I went ahead and took Naveena into the tunnel of love and did what came naturally?

  No.

  What the hell was I thinking? Not only was I married, but Naveena was under the influence of some fucked up, William Gibson shit.

  A holoreader rang from the back seat.

  Afu had left his backpack in the car, and I knew the sound of the alarm issuing from inside. His holoreader vibrated even as I lifted it from his bag. A flashing red notification said that all available smoke eaters were needed at the address of–

  No. No way. This couldn’t be happening. Afu had to have slipped me a spark. Hallucinations, yeah, that was it.

  I rubbed my eyes and looked again. No mistake this time. A dragon was attacking my house.

  Sherry.

  I threw the holoreader onto the seat and jumped behind the wheel. Ash flew as I pressed the gas pedal as far as it would go. Williams and the others could be pissed at me all they wanted.

  My house.

  Multiple smoke eater apparatus filled my street. I had to ditch Williams’ car a few blocks down. Smokies I’d never met aimed cannon trucks or huddled together for a plan of attack, while black smoke and flames consumed my house.

  They’d set up a laser barrier to block off the scene. It flashed red when I ran through it, and a smoke eater stopped me with an armored hand against my chest.

  “Need you to get back, sir,” he said to me, annoyed and eager to catch up with his crew that jogged toward the fire.

  “That’s my house, jackass. And I’m a smoke eater.”

  He leaned back to study my face. “I don’t know you.”

  “Just ask Donahue,” I said, pushing past him. “Where’s my wife?”

  Smoke eaters stood on my yard and the street out front. A news drone flew in, buzzing, chirping, and pointing its huge lens at my disintegrating abode. One of the smoke eaters power jumped to swat it down. The robot camera maneuvered out of the way and settled on recording the action from a higher vantage.

  Gaping holes and jagged glass hung where my windows used to be, including the one that had gotten fixed. The front door stood wide, as the flames grew brighter, more violent. The smoke churned out of every orifice. There was no saving my home, and there was no saving anyone who might have still been inside.

  Sherry.

  A booming roar came from inside, and then the earth shook as if God was sending my house to hell. I tripped and scraped my knee, tore my pants, cursing, but I could barely hear my own voice over the shaking earth.

  When the ground stilled, I got to my feet and grabbed a passing smoke eater by the shoulder. “Where’s my wife?”

  “Hey, pal,” he said, “I just got here.”

  “She was inside!”

  He pointed down the road. “Check the ambulance.”

  I ran toward the ambulance. A house was just a box to stuff your shit. Let it burn. I only wanted Sherry.

  When I made it to the ambulance, the back doors opened and an EMT hopped out, starting when he noticed me.

  “My… wife,” I got out between huffs of air.

  He looked into the back of the box, where Sherry lay on a stretcher, face covered in soot. Kenji sat on her lap, looking around with his rubber tongue dangling excitedly.

  I didn’t wait for the EMT to speak. I pushed him out of the way and knelt beside Sherry, grabbing her hand.

  “Our house,” she said, beginning to cry.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. I preferred anger to sobs. “I don’t give a shit about the house,” I said. “I’m just glad you’re OK.”

  “Language,” Sherry said.

  Kenji barked and said, “Dangsin-eun eodie iss-eossneunji, deomi?”

  Sherry hacked up black phlegm. Wincing, she wiped it off on the blanket the EMTs had covered her with. “The holo stereo–”

  “Sir, I know you’re upset,” the EMT from outside poked his head into the back. “But you need to let us treat her.”

  I spun on him. “Ki
ss my ass!”

  “Cole,” Sherry said.

  “I’m calling the police,” the EMT said, backing up.

  “Tell ’em I’m a smoke eater.”

  That stopped him in his tracks. He closed his mouth and looked at me for a few seconds before raising an apologetic hand and closing the door.

  I turned back to Sherry. “What happened?”

  “The holostereo started playing that scary wraith show, and then it exploded in flames. I’d never seen anything like it. White fire. Can you believe that?”

  I nodded, rubbing her hand and trying not to bite through my bottom lip.

  “The ground started shaking, and I fell. There was so much smoke, so quick. Kenji dragged me from the house.”

  Hearing his name, my wonderful, robotic dog barked and showed happy eyes with dancing hearts.

  I hugged his neck and kissed the cold metal of his head. “Good boy.”

  “The neighbors called 911 and got me out of there. We started hearing roars coming from the house. But how, Cole? How did a dragon show up so quickly?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to fix it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I kissed her and patted Kenji again before jumping out of the ambulance. Leaning my head back inside, I said, “I’ll meet you at the hospital. I love you.”

  I shut the door, and as the ambulance drove away, I heard Sherry yelling from inside – it sounded like my name was used more than once. She wouldn’t understand what was going through my mind at that moment, what singular urge drove me back to my burning-down house.

  I really wanted to kill something scaly.

  The nearest smoke eater truck stood about fifty feet away from my home, and I immediately lifted a bin where I hoped an extra power suit waited.

  Lucky me.

  I jumped into the power suit and strapped on a helmet. This suit was a foam and laser load out, and it was going to be interesting to see how if I could use it well.

  Sink or swim.

  Smoke eaters poured out my front door, shouting and waving at those standing by the slayer vehicles. They all pointed to the ground, saying the dragon had gone back under.

  From the other end of the street, fire droids moved in to put out the flames. I lifted a hand to extend my therma goggles.

  “Get out of here,” someone said behind me, grabbing my arm.

  I was about to swing a fist into whoever’s face, but then I saw it was Thomlin. I should have thrown the punch, but I was surprised to see him outside my house in a power suit. He should have been off for the weekend like the rest of the rookies.

  “That’s my house,” I said. “And what are you doing here?”

  “Volunteered for extra duty. And you’re suspended.”

  I could have sworn he was smiling under all those freckles.

  “Fuck off, Thomlin.” I was ready to fight him, even though I really needed to save my energy for the dragon.

  The ground shook again and sent us both to the ground. Huge splits ripped through the asphalt as my house and surrounding homes collapsed from the quake. The other smoke eaters held onto their slayer trucks or dropped flat. A few fell through huge cracks that appeared in the street, unable to power jump to safety, screaming until the bloody end.

  This wasn’t the type of quake I’d experienced before, where it eventually stopped after a few tremors. This went on…

  … until a dragon crawled out from a deep hole in the asphalt just outside my house. The scaly was about my size, but snake-like and feathery. This thing caused all that shaking? It had no desire to attack the nearby smoke eaters; it was looking for a way to escape, darting its head to and fro as it fluttered its long body down the street.

  Then another quake shook the ground as a cluster of black horns rose behind the smaller scaly. The horns belonged to an ugly head that held countless jagged teeth and a pair of red-glowing eyes. Then another head appeared, looking the same. A third head followed after that. All three heads and necks met at a single body that rose out of the broken asphalt.

  One of the bigger dragon’s claws easily squashed a car, and when it had pulled itself from the hole its tail whipped into the air, brandishing huge spikes at the end. One of the heads darted forward and snatched the fleeing dragon in its teeth. The prey screeched once before its predator chewed, snapping bones, and then swallowed.

  I wanted to run, to scream and piss myself, but I couldn’t help but watch what was happening in front of me. The neighborhood was supposed to have been evacuated, but that didn’t stop curious idiots from sneaking closer for a look. Those curious idiots were now running for their lives, screaming like wraiths.

  The three-headed scaly shook pieces of street from its slick hide and roared with all three heads, giving us all a great look at what was about to kill us. It was bigger than any dragon I’d seen in person, taking up the street and towering over what few houses remained standing. The three heads moved independently, taking count of all the smoke eaters surrounding it. Then, with another unified roar, the dragon’s side plates fell to the street in strings of green gunk. Then it spread gigantic, black wings.

  “OK, Thomlin,” I said slowly. “Let’s get to a cannon truck.” But when I turned, Thomlin was gone, running at full speed toward the dragon, screaming like a madman.

  All three of the dragon’s heads turned to look at the tiny, shouting man power jumping into the air and firing lasers at it. A few of Thomlin’s shots struck the scaly, but they might as well have been raindrops.

  The scaly behemoth lifted its tail, flexing the spikes. Thomlin was still in the air when the dragon whipped its tail into his chest, sending him hurtling in the opposite direction. He flew over my head and landed with a metallic crunch.

  Several of the walking-stick-sized spikes stuck out from Thomlin’s power suit, and he wasn’t moving. Me and another smoke eater ran to where he lay. We would have rolled Thomlin onto his back, but the spikes had impaled him all the way through. His open eyes stared at me, dead as a doll’s. There wasn’t even any blood. His heart had stopped as soon as the spikes pierced his chest.

  “He’s dead,” the other smoke eater said to me.

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  I hated Thomlin’s guts, but I never wanted him to end up like this. He was a brother. Maybe not in the fire service, but something like it. And brothers don’t let something like this go unanswered.

  I turned toward the dragon and readied my laser gun.

  “Cast,” I said, prepping my radio. “We have to surround and drown this behemoth.”

  “What does that mean?” somebody responded. “And who is this?”

  “We can’t let the dragon fly off and wreak havoc on the city,” I said, purposefully leaving my name out of it. Donahue was going to find out anyway. Might as well be later than sooner.

  “He’s right,” someone else chimed in. “This is IC. I want laser fire first. Swords need to stay back until we get it weakened. I never imagined saying this, but we have to take out its wings. Wait for my mark.”

  “Holy shit, look at that,” someone said.

  Rubble churned where my house used to be. The fire droids pulled themselves out while we all gawked at the robots stomping toward the dragon. They started shooting their water cannons, and the dragon tolerated them for a while before crushing the closest droid with one of its claws. The other fire droids kept marching on, apparently determined to help kill the dragon.

  “Ignore the droids,” the IC said. “We can use the distraction.”

  He called a few names and told them to get on top of any houses still upright and stable.

  “What about me?” I asked.

  “I don’t even know you,” he said. “Give me a name.”

  “Brannigan.”

  “All right, Brannigan, meet me at the back of Cannon 2. We’re going to blow this sumbitch away.”

  I hurried to the truck and met a baby-faced guy who could have been half my age.

>   He almost did a double take. “Shit, you’re old.”

  “Thanks. Tell me what I need to do.”

  He pointed at the ladder leading to the cannon’s aiming system. “Hop up there and aim the cannon at the scaly. Don’t shoot until I tell you.”

  “How do I aim this thing?”

  He pointed at me, yelling, “Just use the handles and squeeze the trigger!”

  I skipped the ladder and power jumped into position.

  The last fire droid ran away from the dragon. One of the scaly heads snatched the robot and another bit onto the legs. The dragon heads split the metal man in half, dumping all of its mechanical organs onto the street.

  “Get ready, Brannigan.” the IC sputtered into my helmet speaker. “Ready lasers on the roof.”

  I pulled at the cannon’s handles. The barrel lifted from the bedded position smooth as butter. It took only a few seconds to set my sights on the center of the dragon’s body. The cannon powered up.

  “On three,” the IC said.

  The dragon spread its wings and hunkered down as if it was going to charge me on top of the cannon truck.

  “One …”

  The center dragon head stayed forward, on me. The other two split the street and growled at either side, where the laser teams waited.

  “… two…”

  Something wasn’t right. My body hair rose from inside my power suit as the dragon sucked in air. Before the IC could say, “three” the dragon released a wave of energy from each head. I pulled the cannon’s trigger but it was too late. The energy wave hit the truck hard, flipping me over the side.

  I hit my head pretty bad, but I crawled onto my feet and peeked around the truck. The laser teams had fallen similarly, and it wasn’t until that moment I realized my power suit was dead.

  I looked up at the cannon truck lights. They no longer spun or glowed. The engine didn’t rumble. The Behemoth had roared another of those EMP blasts, only this time it was on a bigger scale. And, based on the complete silence coming from my helmet, every one of us smoke eaters were just as fucked as our suits and trucks.

  I tossed my helmet off and lifted the truck bin where they kept the lances and shields. A few smokies ran past me as I hefted my gear down the street. They could run like little punks. I was going to kill this bastard or it was going to kill me. I was tired of playing the middle ground.