Squawk - Beginnings: The Dragon Games Revolution

by Craig Halloran

  Gabe shoved Jack away. “Don’t you have some scrubbing to do?”

  Taking a glance back at the wall, Jack said, “I always do. Unlike you.”

  “Uh-huh. So what are you scrubbing today?”

  “More of those stupid markings.” He rubbed his shoulder. “I’ve got to clean them all. Always. I hate it. Hey, want to help once your dad’s gone?” Jack lifted his bushy brows. “I’ll pay you.”

  “You don’t have anything to pay me with.”

  “I’ll trade you.” Jack pulled out a small case knife that was coated in rust.

  Gabe’s eyes widened. “Where’d you get that? Put that away!” he whispered.

  “So you want to trade?”

  “No.” Gabe moved on in Saul’s direction.

  Tucking the small blade back into his clothing, Jack backed away, waving. “Be careful, Saul, and good luck. That dragon is a big one. I heard it swallowed an entire cow whole.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Don’t get eaten!”

  “Oh, shut up!” Gabe yelled back. “Why don’t you go swim in the sewers with your dad where you belong!”

  Saul caught Gabe by the arm and dragged him away with a laugh. “Don’t let him rile you up.”

  “He always says stupid things like that.” Gabe ran his fingers under his goggles, wiping a tear away. Being told his father might be eaten stung him. He ground his teeth and stiffened from head to toe. His clenched fists shook at his sides. “I hate him.”

  Saul turned around and knelt in front of Gabe. “Are you okay?”

  His lip quivered. He didn’t know why, but Jack’s words had really gotten to him. Finally, he managed to say, “You won’t get eaten, will you, Dad?”

  “Heavens, no. There’s no lizard big enough to swallow a cow. If anything, it’s the other way around.”

  “But they say it’s a big one.”

  “They always say it’s a big one, and it never is. We’ll be fine. We always are.”

  Gabe thumbed the tears out from underneath his eyes. “Okay, Dad.” He took a breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

  “Some people just have a knack for getting under people’s skin. Jack has that knack with you. That’s why he presses. You’ll just have to learn to not let it bother you. Thicken that skin.” Saul put his arm over Gabe’s shoulder. “Once he learns it doesn’t bother you, he’ll leave you alone.”

  Gabe took a breath. “Okay. I’ll just give him a crack in the jaw if I have to next time.”

  “It couldn’t hurt, but remember, he’s your friend. Just like Malak is mine. You never know when you might need him.”

  Gabe glanced back over his shoulder. Jack was scrubbing at the wall again. “What’s going on with all of the lettering, anyway? I’ve seen it before here and there, just smaller.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Saul said, looking away from Gabe’s searching eyes. “It’s just bored people making trouble for themselves. Just stay away from it if you see people doing such things. Anyway, you’d think the Count would have more to worry about than a little bit of paint on the walls.”

  “That’s not really an answer.”

  “I wish I had all of the answers.”

  They rounded the corner. The northern wall that led outside of the compound waited. A group of rugged men, geared up like Saul, were gathered near the metal gates. One man sat among the others, bigger than them all. It was Malak. His big eyes spotted Saul. Clapping his hide gloves together, he said with a sneer, “Well, if it isn’t Saul. So glad that you could make it.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Malak was a bull of a man. He held everyone’s attention. His shaggy red hair was tied back in a ponytail. Sturdy as a wall, the lantern-jawed man with plenty of grizzle stood on a car that had been crushed into a brick of metal. He banged his spear on the hood. The weapon was a superior make and design to Saul’s.

  He spat dark-brown juice on the ground. “Let’s get this hunt started, then.”

  “Yes!” one hunter said, hoisting his spear. His head was covered in a cowl made from rags, and he had a lanky build and a sway. Half of his teeth were missing. “It’s time to kill some more of those featherless chickens!” He started to walk around, jutting his chin out and clucking like a chicken. “We gonna have beakless chickens tonight!”

  Several of the gruff men laughed. Others began picking up their gear. Many slung heavy packs over their shoulders. A hunt could go on for days sometimes, but Saul had never been gone longer than a week.

  Gabe studied the men and his father. One of them handed Saul what looked like a large canteen with two tube straps that fit over his shoulders. A plastic mask that could cover the mouth went with it. It was a small tank of air with a filter that helped the men breathe in case they got caught in the middle of a storm. Saul tested the contraption. He hung it over his shoulders and gave the man a nod.

  The hunters were a varied mix of men from the compound. They all seemed to have scrapes and scars that they shared stories about. Not a one of them was slight in build, either. As a matter of fact, Saul, who was fairly big, was almost an average size among them. A few of the men—who numbered a dozen in all—were tall and barrel-chested. Built like bears, they had long hair and a wild look in their eyes. One of them scraped a stone across the blade of his hatchet. He gave Gabe a leer, forcing him to look away.

  As Gabe studied the men, his blood began to churn. Seeing them decked out in their piecemeal armor stirred him up. Strips of steel and tire rubber made shoulder pads and arm and thigh guards. A lot of hide brought it all together. Every man had his own dress style. One of the hunters had made a helmet from scraps of welded iron. He put a rack of deer antlers on it. Another man whipped a sword around and chopped it like a machete. It was a single piece of steel from some abandoned machine with a groove cut out for the leather handle. Its edge winked in the daylight.

  Aside from Gabe, only one other person seemed out of place. His name was Sage. He fit in like a rose among the briars. He wore the long, sand-brown robes typical of a member of the Dominion. His head was shaven, his skin smooth, and he didn’t appear to carry anything. His wrinkle-free face showed no emotion.

  Saul laid a hand on Gabe’s shoulder, interrupting his stare. “It’s time.”

  As excited as the hunt made Gabe, he didn’t want his dad to go. He latched his arms around Saul’s waist. “Let me go with you.”

  “None of this, now. You know the rules.” Saul rubbed Gabe on the head. “You best get going.”

  “But Malak’s son is going.” Gabe’s stare was fixed on an older boy who looked like Malak. He wasn’t as heavy in frame but was clearly Malak’s kin. “Why does he get to go?”

  “He’s of age. His time has come. Your time will come as well.” Saul mussed his hair. “Just a few more years.”

  Rolling his eyes, he said, “That’s forever from now.”

  “Don’t whine.” Saul peeled his arms away. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Gabe looked up into his father’s compassionate eyes and nodded. The iron gates split open with some cheering from a small crowd that had gathered around. The opening of the gates, though not infrequent, was an event, especially when the hunters departed. The crowd started to chant, “Dragon hunt! Dragon hunt! Dragon hunt!”

  Saul fell into step with the squad of men, and they marched out of the gates. As the guards closed the gates, Gabe scrambled up one of the construction piles that led to the top of the wall and looked down. The wall, sheer on the other side, was twenty feet tall and getting higher. The opening was one of the few times that the compound guards would let citizens glance over the wall. Each guard wore a dull silver badge, a circle within a circle, pinned to a navy-blue shirt. They carried long rods of rebar like clubs. They were the citizen watch known as the Blue Guard of Newton. Gabe hunkered beside one of them on the walk. He gave him an upward glance. The guard nodded at him and looked on.

  Beyond the wall were concrete roads leading in more than one direction,
surrounded by tall grasses, shrubs, and trees. Birds darted from tree to tree. Vermin scurried from branch to branch as the hunters traveled down the lonely northern road that was busted up but still serviceable. The men in the unit moved at a brisk pace, and before long, they were specks weaving through rolling hills to where a distant tunnel in the hillsides swallowed them whole. Gabe’s heart sank. He longed to be out there with his father—perhaps too much.

  The guard gave him a whack with his club.

  “Ow!” Gabe said, rubbing his arm. “You could have just asked!”

  “On you go!” The guard gave him a hard shove.

  Gabe landed on his feet several feet down on the mounds of dirt and rubble. He moved on, rubbing his arm. “Jerk.”

  Alone, the last thing that he wanted to do was spend time with his grandmother. And it was only a matter of time before the Count would send for him. With his father gone, they’d put him to work on some mundane task. He didn’t want that.

  I’m not going to wash walls all day like Jack. The heck with that.

  Gabe picked his way through the compound, avoiding the guards that were scattered about and any adults who might be looking for help. That was another thing he hated about his father being gone. Saul was a hunter, and he and his family were considered to be cut from a different cloth than other people. No one messed with Gabe when his father was around. That was probably why Jack seemed to have it in for him—he was jealous. It’s not my fault his smelly father works in the sewers. Speaking of sewers…

  With a giggle to himself, Gabe spun on his heel and turned back toward the eastern side of the compound. He had a secret there. Mabel can manage without me for a while.

  Head low, he traversed the crowds, avoiding any faces or voices that seemed in the slightest way familiar. He pulled his hood over his head and scuttled through the streets that encircled the main buildings. He headed into a village of shanties. They were small, metal-roofed houses crammed side by side, and they weren’t laid out in any organized pattern. The least of the least lived there. People squatted in front of their doors but didn’t pay him any mind. No one really cared about the shanties. He shielded his nose. They’re all dirty, and they all smell.

  He crept between a pair of shanties, pushing through a narrow alley, and came to a stop at the edge of a concrete washout that encircled the inner side of the wall. With a glance upward, he noted a lone guard standing with his back to him, twirling his club. He was an older man, a bit flabby in the midsection. The skin jiggled under his arms.

  Gabe hopped into the washout and made a beeline for the corner of the wall. The washout merged with another at the corner. Covered in dry vines, metal bars blocked the passage of a three-foot-high storm drain. Two of the bars were bent, making a wider gap in one spot. He spied the guard above and looked around. Not seeing anyone who was paying attention to what he was doing, Gabe squeezed through the bars and slipped into the pipe.

  CHAPTER 5

  On elbows and knees, Gabe crawled through hard ribs of the pitch-black tunnel. It was a long haul. Minutes into it, his knees started to throb and ache. He stopped and caught his breath and looked back in the direction he’d come from. There was a wink of daylight that appeared to be miles away. He filled his lungs with the stuffy air and let out a long breath. He pulled his goggles off, letting them hang around his neck. Sweat stung his eyes. He laughed.

  He’d discovered the tunnel years before when he was running around and hiding from his friends. Hide-and-seek had been one of their favorite games, and they would play as long as they could get away with it. The tunnel had been the perfect hiding spot. They never found him. But not until a long time after that did something compel him to make his first trek through it. Since then, he’d been through the tunnel a few times, going all the way to the end.

  That was his secret. He had a way out of the compound, and no one but him knew about it. Rubbing his knees and elbows, he said, “Let’s get back at it.” He resumed his crawl.

  The compound of Newton had rules. Children couldn’t leave, but the adults could, though many didn’t. Beyond the compound were other places and people. Most worked the fields. The farmers assigned to the fields left early in the morning and would come back before night fell. Unless there was a storm. No one went anywhere in the storms. But the children never got to make the journey. Gabe didn’t understand why. He longed to see more of the world.

  As he moved stiffly through the pipe, a scratching caught his ear. He froze. Something with tiny claws was scraping his way. His throat tightened. Stiff as a stone, he barely breathed. Any sudden movement, and some rabid varmint nestled in the pipe might lash out. A creature brushed his hand. Something like a cold, wet finger touched his fingers and sniffed. Gabe wanted to let out a roar and frighten the animal away.

  Be calm. Stay still.

  The last thing he wanted was to be nipped. That could be fatal. He’d seen people die from it before. He flattened himself against the black pipe. Within seconds, a fur-covered creature of some sort crawled over his neck. Its sharp, tiny nails dug into his scalp and his clothing. It proceeded to his back, curled up, and lay still.

  What in the world?

  A naked tail whipped across Gabe’s eyes. Possum. It’s got to be a possum. And it’s sleeping on me!

  It wasn’t alone, either. Several more of the small creatures—babies—crawled over his hands and onto his body. One by one, they nestled on his warm back.

  I am not a bed for rodents!

  Gabe wriggled. Tiny claws sank a little farther through his clothes and into his skin.

  I can’t believe this! “Will you get off of me?” he yelled. The sound echoed down the tunnel and faded. The possums didn’t move. It was cool in the tunnel, but the rodents seemed to like his warmth. He considered turning back but changed his mind.

  “Fine. You’re coming with me, then.” Gabe resumed his crawl and did his best to block out the varmints on his back. He started at a brisk pace, but the faster he moved, the more their claws sank in. Fighting the agony, he slowed his crawl and kept moving. His thoughts wandered back to the Dominion and its issues with the children not going beyond the wall. It had always been that way, everyone said, but it didn’t sit well with him. He understood that they needed to keep people safe, and he had heard the speeches about the children being the future, but he never understood the harm in going farther outside. Certainly, it wasn’t that way in other places, but he didn’t know.

  The minutes felt like hours, but finally, a peep of light glowed at the end of the pipe. Ignoring the claws latched onto his back, he sped up, busting his knees over the ridges of the pipe until he bathed in the fullness of light.

  He let out a loud gasp. “Ah!” He took a peek over his shoulders and got his first look at his passengers. He nearly jumped out of his skin with a scream. “Yaaaaaah!” The possum wasn’t an ordinary possum. It had two heads and ugly, hard ridges on its back. Its mouth was like jagged scissors. It snapped at him. Gabe hopped around in circles and swatted at the vile creature’s babies. They dropped off one by one and scurried into the pipe. He ripped his shirt off, taking the big possum and some of his skin with it. He tried to run, but the possum’s tail wrapped around his ankle. He kicked at the hissing thing.

  “Get off of me! Get off of me!” Gabe found a stick and began beating the creature in the head. Its spade-shaped jaw bit into the stick and tore it free of Gabe’s hand. He tripped and fell, landing hard on his hind end. The two-headed possum scurried right at him. Its jaws opened. Saliva dripped from its mouth. Frantic, Gabe found a rock with his fingers. He cracked the little monster in one of its heads. Its tail loosened on his ankle. Gabe crab-walked away from it. Shaking its heads, the creature scurried back into the tunnel and vanished in the black.

  Puffing for his breath, Gabe said, “Great. And I have to go back that way.”

  He found his shirt, shook it a few times, and slipped it back on. He was standing below ground level where the pipe emptied out
into a rock-filled reservoir. The washout filled quickly when the heavy rains came, and they needed to keep it clear of debris or flooding could occur. Sometimes the water flooded the compound. The shanties got the worst of it.

  He crawled up the ravine bank, still clasping the rocks until he’d hauled himself up to ground level. He looked back down at the mouth of the drainpipe, thinking about the monster possum.

  Maybe I can sneak back in with some of the farmers. He clutched at his head. Ah, who am I kidding? I’m a dead man. I guess I’m going to have to find some way to take out that possum.

  Chin down and with a head full of regret, he took a peek back at the compound. It stood against a backdrop of barren hillsides a couple hundred yards away. He stayed low, working with the gentle landscape, keeping out of sight. The tall grass and sparse trees made for decent cover. There were old vehicles, overgrown with foliage, one with the earth. The distant road tunnel was over a mile away. It seemed farther. Something inside him told him to go back. It tugged at his heart. But he let his curiosity get the better of him.

  If Malak’s boys can go, so can I. Besides, the farmers do this all of the time.

  He surged on, leaving the compound behind him, then set his jaw and headed toward the next tunnel. The closer he got, the bigger it became. He felt like a bug about to be swallowed by a bear. The entrance towered over him, a great, dark thing. Arriving at the entrance, he ran his hands over the smooth limestone that made up the archway. He rubbed it. “Whoa.”

  Unlike the smaller pipe he’d crawled through earlier, this tunnel had plenty of light on the other end but was almost pitch-black in the middle. Stepping within, he let his eyes adjust. One lane was clear, and much of the wreckage and rubble had been moved aside. Gabe picked up the pace, moving at a trot until he made it to the other side.