Dragons Wild gm-1

by Robert Asprin

  Griffen was fully alert now and more than a little scared. What were these jokers trying to do? If they weren’t in a clear stretch of road…

  Glancing ahead, he saw there was a gentle curve to the right less than a mile ahead. If he didn’t do something, the two trucks could potentially run him off the road and into the ditch that ran along the median.

  For a moment, Griffen was tempted to floor the gas and try to outrun them, but he decided against it. He didn’t know what these two had under their hoods, and if he failed to outrun them, they’d all hit the curve at an even greater speed.

  There was, of course, another option.

  Wrenching his steering wheel to the left, he took the Goblin onto the soft shoulder, then stood on the clutch and his brake pedal simultaneously.

  The Tiger slid and fishtailed a bit, but came to a halt as the two trucks swept past and into the distance.

  Heart racing, Griffen saw them slow to their original speed and reassume position one ahead of the other.

  That should have been it. He was out of danger and could either sit for a few moments until they were out of sight or follow at a distance until he found an exit.

  Instead, he stared after them through a red haze.

  “So they want to play, do they?” he said out loud.

  Dropping his shift lever to low, he popped the clutch and stood on the gas, charging back onto the expressway with a spray of dirt and a roaring engine.

  It didn’t take him long to overtake the pickups. They were driving below speed limit now, back in their old formation one behind the other in the slow lane.

  Dropping his speed, Griffen slid in behind them, making it a line of three vehicles. He figured if nothing else, it would make them nervous enough to spark a reaction. It didn’t take long.

  Studying his opponents at leisure, he noticed something he had missed before. Both truckers had CB radios, and were talking back and forth as they watched him in their rearview mirrors.

  Apparently they reached a decision. They reduced their speed, seeing if he would fall into the old trap and try to pass them.

  No deal. Griffen lowered his speed to match theirs, sitting about ten feet behind the tailing truck.

  The lead truck pulled out into the fast lane, then started to drop back as his buddy held his speed. Unless he dropped his speed even further, Griffen was going to end up in the same box he was in before, with one truck ahead of him and the other alongside, pinning him against the soft shoulder.

  This time, he had something else in mind. Instead of dropping back, he moved onto the soft shoulder and eased up on the truck in front of him. This placed him in the blind spot of the second truck, while that truck in turn was blocking the line of sight of the truck dropping back. For a moment, neither driver could see him.

  Confused, the driver in the trailing truck craned his neck around trying to get a fix on Griffen’s position, while his partner dropped back quickly to try to establish the box.

  With a tight smile, Griffen dropped down a gear and floored the accelerator. With a snarl, the Goblin responded, darting along the soft shoulder to pass the truck alongside. Startled, the driver shied away for a heartbeat, then gunned his own engine and moved toward the soft shoulder, trying to crowd Griffen into the ditch.

  Too late. The Ford V8 engine was wide open and Griffen slid past, pulling back onto the highway ahead of his attacker.

  Glancing in his rearview mirror, Griffen could suddenly see only one truck.

  Not having encountered the expected resistance, the truck which had tried to run him off the road had itself gone into the ditch. Its front wheels were mired and twisted at a painful angle, and the hood had popped open.

  That only left one.

  The truck still on the road slowed momentarily, as if hesitant. Then roared to life again, surging forward. With his lead, Griffen could outrun him, but his blood was still up. Anger and adrenaline making him act foolish. He let the truck gain.

  Not even Griffen knew what he was thinking. No longer was he acting off a plan, but merely following the heat of the moment. He let the truck start to pull up along his side, not quite at an angle to run him off the road yet. He only had ill-conceived notions of taunting his adversary before flooring it and leaving him in the dust. He glanced back, catching sight of the driver through the window.

  Caught sight of the driver, past the length of a shotgun.

  Startled, Griffen almost wrenched himself off the road in shock. That involuntary jerk was the only thing that saved at the very least some damage to his car, if not preventing total disaster. His engine screamed, drowning out the roar of the blast behind him, and the shot went wide as the Goblin tore down the road, finally outdistancing his attacker. In his rearview mirror, a now thoroughly panicked Griffen watched the truck slow. His last glimpse of it was to see it turn, pushing over the divider, presumably to go rescue the other driver.

  Putting his car back in gear, Griffen continued along his way at a much more reasonable speed. His fingers gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as his pulse pounded through his ears.

  As his heartbeat slowly returned to normal, he found himself wondering at his recent actions. Even though things had eased considerably in Michigan since the late sixties, when the crumbling auto industry inspired frustrated laid-off line workers to retaliate by running imported cars off I-94, it was not unheard of for such incidents to occur even today. Griffen himself had survived three such attempts in the Goblin. In those cases, he had dodged the initial attack, then pulled off at the next exit, shaken and glad to be alive.

  He had never felt moved to retaliate…to counterattack the way he had just now. It had been a mistake, a nearly fatal one. Even though he had no way to know just how hostile the truck drivers had been, it had been utterly reckless to give up his lead without a clear plan of action. This sudden shift in his reactions both puzzled and bothered him.

  What bothered him even more was not the final attempt, but the quick burst of savage glee he had felt when his initial plan had worked and he saw his first attacker in the ditch.

  It wasn’t until he pulled off the expressway to refuel that he noticed his steering wheel was bent slightly out of round.

  Seven

  Ashe approached his sister’s apartment, Griffen spied her striding down the sidewalk ahead of him, obviously bound for the same destination. He’d know that rump anywhere.

  Not that the rest of her was unremarkable. While he had never actually lusted after her, being her brother did not keep him from noticing that Valerie had a stellar bod.

  A bit over six feet in height, his sister’s shoulders were a bit too broad and her face a bit too round to be considered a classic pinup beauty. Still, she was short waisted with ample breasts and legs that ran forever so that she had no difficulty drawing male attention whether she wanted to or not. What was more, Valerie moved with the easy, confident grace of a natural athlete, which she was. Whereas Mai always reminded Griffen of a doll, Valerie always made him think of a panther…or a wide receiver after a really good sex-change operation. With her blond hair, it was easy to see why he thought of her as Valkyrie rather than Valerie. Especially when she wore her hair in braids.

  Passing her, he pulled his car over to the curb and got out, leaning against the vehicle as he waited for her.

  She spotted him a dozen yards out and lengthened her stride to an easy lope.

  “Hey, Bro!” she called. “What are you doing here?”

  Still moving at speed, she swept him up in a bone-crushing hug and held him aloft.

  “Val…I…QUIT!” Griffen managed, prying himself from her grip.

  He tried to recompose himself, while not making it too obvious he was trying to get his breath back. His sister’s greetings always left him feeling like he knew what Godzilla was like as a puppy.

  “Hey, brat,” he said finally. “Still working out, I see.”

  “My God, Grifter. What happened to the Goblin?”


  She was staring at the recent damage to his vehicle. He had been avoiding looking at it too closely, himself, and her attention made him uncomfortable.

  “A couple guys in pickups decided to contest my right to use their road,” he said quickly. “I’ll tell you about it some other time. Right now, we’ve got to talk.”

  “Yeah? What kind of trouble have you got yourself into now, Big Brother?”

  Instead of answering immediately, Griffen peered closely at the hand she was waving.

  “Speaking of trouble, Val,” he said, “would it be impolite to point out that you’re bleeding?”

  Valerie glanced at her hand briefly, then licked the wet and drying blood from her knuckles like an animal before answering.

  “No big deal,” she said. “Just some muscle flexer who wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer.”

  “Some things never change,” Griffen said, shaking his head.

  “Now don’t change the subject,” Valerie pressed. “What’s up that brings you my way…and while the sun’s up, even.”

  Griffen glanced up and down the street before answering.

  “First, let’s find somewhere we can talk without being interrupted. Someplace other than your apartment, if possible. I have a lot to tell you.”

  Over an hour, and several coffees, later at one of the campus hangouts, Griffen finally concluded his narration of what he had heard and experienced since visiting their uncle.

  Valerie leaned back in her seat and sipped at her lukewarm beverage.

  “Huh,” she said at last. “That’s got to be the weirdest thing I’ve heard in a long time. So what are we going to do?”

  “I dunno,” Griffen admitted. “I’m still trying to figure out if I believe it at all.”

  “Does it matter?” His sister shrugged.

  “What do you mean, ‘Does it matter’?” he said sharply. “Either the world has just been redefined for us, or a lot of people including our uncle have gone round the bend.”

  “And I repeat, does it matter?” Valerie shot back. “Whether this dragon thing is for real or not, enough people seem to believe in it that it already has redefined our world. I mean, if they’re trying to pressure us or kill us, does it matter if they’re right or wrong? It makes a difference to us and we’ve got to decide what we’re going to do.”

  “You know, Val, that’s why I wanted to talk this out with you.” Griffen smiled. “You always manage to cut through the bullshit and get right to the heart of the matter. You’re right, of course.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  He had missed it the first couple times, but it finally sank in.

  “What do you mean ‘we’?” he said. “I’m the one they’re after. I just wanted to get your opinion and give you a heads-up.”

  “This affects both of us, doesn’t it?” Valerie said stubbornly. “First of all, I’m not going to let you try to deal with this alone. Second, if they’ll be after both of us eventually, it’s easier to plan a defense if we stick together. Besides, I don’t like the sound of that ‘We have other plans for her’ bit. If they’re thinking of trying to use me for breeding stock, they’ve got another think coming.”

  “But what about school? You can’t just pick up and go.”

  “Why not?” she said. “The semester’s nearly over, and my grades are good enough that I can skip the finals without serious consequences. I couldn’t concentrate anyway with this thing hanging over our heads.”

  “Val, look—”

  “No, you look.” Valerie cut him off abruptly.

  Griffen was used to her changes in mood, but her sharp tone surprised him. She seemed to sense this and her tone softened.

  “Forget school, school isn’t important. This sounds important, and you need someone you can trust. Oh, sure, Uncle Malcolm was never exactly hands-on with our lives, but a betrayal is a betrayal. Not to mention your little…friend Mai.”

  He couldn’t help but wince. When he had been telling her the story, she had been most furious over Mai. At this point, Griffen had doubts he would ever see Mai again, but if he did, he’d have to see about keeping Valerie away from her.

  “And the senator, that makes this serious, even if it’s ridiculous,” Valerie continued, smiling a little. “I’m with you, Big Brother. Period.”

  Griffen couldn’t think of a good argument for her reasoning. Truth to tell, he rather liked the idea of her coming along, even though he hadn’t thought of it originally. Still, something nagged at him.

  “I know you too well, Sis. Do you know something else that is prompting you?” he said.

  “No…maybe. Just thinking back. How many times would I catch some guy staring at me or following me, and how often was it just your average stalkeresque loser? Maybe, just maybe someone was keeping an eye on me for more than my looks.”

  Griffen shivered.

  “Recently?”

  “No, not recently. Still, you’re stuck with me. Accept it.”

  “Oh, darn, do I have to?”

  He grinned and she chucked him affectionately on the shoulder. He managed not to wince from impact.

  “So what now?” she said.

  “Well, all I can think of is for us to find a safe place to go to ground while we try to figure out a game plan,” he said. “Someplace no one would think to look for us.”

  “Sounds good for a start,” Valerie said, rising to her feet. “Just swing by my place so I can pack a few things and we’ll be off.”

  “Actually, Val, I’m kinda beat from driving all night,” Griffen admitted, suddenly not relishing the thought of hitting the road again so soon. “Why don’t I drop you off and check into a motel so I can sleep a couple of hours before we take on the great unknown.”

  “If you worked out once in a while, you’d have more stamina,” his sister chided him. “Okay then, that will give me a little time to pick and choose what I’m bringing. A girl’s gotta look her best, even if she’s on the run.”

  Eight

  There was a motel only a few blocks from where his sister lived. The clerk gave the crumpled back of his Sunbeam a hard look, but when Griffen carded over twenty-one and paid cash in advance there was no problem. His room was on the first floor on the back side of the long, low bulding. Throwing his bags on the floor next to a bed covered by a garish purple quilt, the young man turned and left the room. He should be tired, but somehow he wasn’t. He went back outside and paused in front of his room to just stare at the stars. They were reassuringly the same.

  A chill ran up his spine and the hint of a sound caused the young man to look to his right. A figure a hundred feet away was silhouetted in distant streetlights. There was something about the way the man stood there that set off alarm bells. Griffen backed into a shadow near his doorway and watched. The dark figure paused and then took a few steps. It seemed to the young man that he could sense the dark man was smiling, but he was equally certain there was no humor in that smile.

  Both stood perhaps a hundred feet apart and half-visible in the shadows of the badly lit back of the college-town motel. The sounds of traffic and a dog baying a few blocks away seemed to get louder. Then it happened.

  For the first time, Griffen understood what was meant by a fight or flight reaction. The need to do something screamed inside him. The man, thing, dragon, or whatever it was, had seemed to be bigger and taller now. Without knowing it, he took a step back.

  Then it hit him. If he was a dragon, there would never be a better time to become one. Which only left one urgent question. How did you change into a dragon?

  He tried willing himself to change. Nothing happened.

  So Griffen decided he would command himself to change, complete with a sweeping arm gesture. No dragon.

  Risking closing his eyes for a moment, Griffen tried to picture himself as a dragon. “Be the dragon, be the dragon,” he intoned mentally, but all he got was the image of Chevy Chase in CaddyShack intoning, “Be the ball.”

  Fr
ustration led to anger. Okay, if he was going to get mashed by a massive supernatural monster in the back of a motel, he might as well go down fighting. He felt rage rise inside him. It seemed to take hold and his vision blurred. Everything was out of focus, and the sidewalk seemed to recede. He reached for the wall and steadied himself while desperately trying to see what his attacker was.

  A car came around in the lot. The headlights speared brightly across the sidewalk and the man disappeared around the corner of the building. Then the lights swung away as the car pulled into a space.

  Griffen slumped against the wall and discovered he was nauseous. After two tries the key worked in his door. Minutes later the shaking stopped and Griffen risked a look out the door. The parking lot was pleasantly empty.

  Tired as he was, Griffen was far too wound up now to sleep. The surge of adrenaline from his mysterious encounter had left him feeling shaken and wired up. After checking one more time to make sure the coast was clear, he made his way into the motel’s lobby bar and settled in for a short drink and a long think.

  Valerie was right, of course. It didn’t matter if Uncle Malcolm was crazy or sane about the whole dragon thing. If there were people out there who believed it and were ready to act on it, then he and Valerie had little choice but to take it seriously as well. The only trouble was, he didn’t have the vaguest clue as to what he should do next.

  With school behind him, he had gambled heavily on getting a job with his uncle Malcolm only to have that crumble completely. Now he was homeless, adrift with all his worldly possessions in two suitcases, in what was left of his car. What was more, now he had Valerie in tow.

  Hooking up with his sister completed the only agenda he had when he blew out of Michigan. Short of throwing a dart at a map, he had no idea of where they should go from here.

  “Yo! Bartender! A Jack and Coke for me and another Irish for my man here!”