The Lady Prefers Dragons

by Katalina Leon

  “Yes, miz.” Kibo climbed into the Jeep, turned the engine over, and stomped on the gas pedal. The tough little vehicle burst forward and plowed through the tall grass. “I’m going to avoid the track for a few miles.”

  Devon glanced over her shoulder. “I can’t believe they’re letting us go without more of a fight. Commander Vorden looked like he wanted to slit my throat.”

  “They’re not letting us go,” Kibo said with a dour expression on his face. “After they’ve used their heat-seeking gear to search the bush, they will follow.”

  “Who are they?”

  “I’ve seen the commander before. He has come to Kilimanjaro in the past but always alone. After I saw those creatures at the falls and you disappeared, I called for help. I told the authorities I had an American woman missing on safari and needed to organize a search party. Commander Vorden and his men were the first to arrive. I went with them, not realizing my mistake until we reached the falls. I saw then they thought nothing of your safe return and were only concerned with charging their electric cattle prods and other torture devices. They are bad men.”

  That was certain. “Why did they let us go?”

  “They don’t have what they want. They will watch you closely until the Marduko return to claim you.”

  Devon’s heart sank. “You’re right.”

  They rode in tense silence for what felt like a long while.

  Kibo asked in almost reverent tones, “Are the Marduko really monsters? Did they harm you?”

  She didn’t dare admit to knowing anything about the Marduko. A faint smile crossed her lips as she shook her head. “No one harmed me.”

  Kibo glanced in the rearview mirror. “Miz, they are following. I see a cloud of dust.”

  She looked behind and saw the rising plume of debris that signaled many vehicles on the move. “There’s nowhere to hide. Get back on the dirt track and start driving like hell.”

  “Okay, miz.” Kibo steered the Jeep out of the tall grass. When they reached the parallel rows of hard-packed dirt that passed for a road, Kibo raced toward the village, striking every bump in the road and sending the Jeep bouncing high into the air.

  Devon nearly bit her tongue. “Don’t break an axle! Not now.”

  Kibo drove like a madman.

  She glanced at the gauge on the gas tank and was disheartened to see only a quarter of a tank. They would make it back to the camp but no farther without a fuel stop. “We don’t have much of a head start. What are we going to do?”

  Looking worried, he didn’t answer.

  “When we get to the camp, let me out near my hut. I’ll grab my passport, plane tickets, and whatever I can.” She glanced down at the dried mud on her bare feet. “And some shoes. I’ll try to get someone to drive me to the Nairobi airport.”

  His expression hardened. “No, miz, I’ll do it.”

  “Kibo, those men are following me. Stay out of the way. Hide somewhere for a while.”

  On the far horizon a rising twist of smoke from one of the camp’s cooking fires came into view. “Look, we’re almost there!” Devon shouted in joy.

  Kibo stared straight ahead as he spoke. “Miz.” He sounded guilty. “I told others about seeing the Marduko.”

  This was going to be bad. “How many others?”

  Dipping his chin, Kibo looked ashamed. “Everyone who would listen.”

  “I will not talk about it,” she said with strong resolve. “You don’t have to either.”

  “Yes, miz.”

  They rode in silence toward the semicircular camp of huts as Commander Vorden and his men gained on them every minute.

  “Our lead is slipping away,” Devon grumbled. “We’re five minutes ahead of them, tops.” She was so tense by the time they sped into camp that she was ready to leap from the moving car and run to her hut. She unfastened the seat belt and prepared to jump. “Hurry, Kibo!”

  As they approached the curved row of huts Kibo slowed, but the Jeep was still moving as Devon leaped from the passenger seat, hit the ground, rolled, and scrambled toward her hut.

  “I’m okay!” She wrenched the door of the hut open, feeling as bruised and sore as all hell as she grabbed her belongings and shoved them haphazardly into a flight bag.

  The Jeep screeched to a halt nearby.

  Devon glanced around the hut, struggling to remember if she’d already thrust her passport inside the cluttered bag or if it was still hidden in the hut someplace. She racked her mind, unable to think clearly.

  “Miz, it’s too late.” Kibo stood at the door of her hut, frowning.

  She peeked out the door and saw a convoy of large trucks and other vehicles roll straight toward the camp before dividing into two lines that swept outward to surround the compound.

  “Oh crap, now what? I thought they were going to chase me. I guess they decided to snatch me back.” Devon stepped outside the hut. “I’m going to see what they want.” She looked into Kibo’s eyes and saw how worried he was. “Please get out of here and call the American embassy. Tell them I need help.”

  “I’ll stay.” Kibo dismissed her. “Miz, who is John Wayne?”

  Several brightly painted vans embellished with television news logos and equipped with satellite dishes on their roofs pulled into camp and stopped in front of Devon’s hut. News crewmen piled out of the vans, including an attractive woman with a microphone, followed by her cameraman, who remained close.

  The woman pointed at the incoming convoy of vehicles. “There they are. Let’s start rolling tape now.” The woman turned her back on the convoy so the rising cloud of dust, speeding Jeeps, and trucks heading toward camp were dramatically framed behind her.

  The cameraman flashed a raised finger to signal the woman that the tape was rolling.

  The woman spoke into the microphone with a crisp, formal accent. “I’m Choleela Mandege from Nairobi Nine News, and we are reporting live from Amboseli National Park.” She motioned over her shoulder. “Since Victorian times tourist and safari hounds alike have flocked to the foothills of Kilimanjaro to see and experience Africa’s so-called big five in the wild. But the mountain may soon be adding a big number six!

  “Today Amboseli National Park is about to find out if it truly possesses its own version of Bigfoot or Nessie the Loch Ness Monster. For the first time in several generations the legendary Marduko dragons have been spotted circling Mount Kilimanjaro. We have even received reports that a young American woman was abducted at a local waterfall by dragons.”

  Choleela turned to gaze over her shoulder. “We believe that’s her rescue party heading our way, and hopefully that young American is safe and has a story to share.”

  Devon stared dumbfounded at the news crews clambering to set up the next shot as the convoy approached. Waving her arms, she tried to get their attention. “I’m not over there. I’m over here.” Her spirits rose when she realized this opportunity was a godsend. “I’m fine.” She pointed at Kibo. “This man rescued me. He’s the hero.”

  The news crews crowded so close they nearly knocked Devon over. Three microphones were thrust in her face at once.

  Choleela elbowed the others aside and continued to speak as if she had not been interrupted. “Tell us about your ordeal. Are there really dragons on the mountain?”

  Devon tried to play dumb. “Who told you there were dragons on the mountain?”

  A group of excited children ran past and pointed at Kibo. “He did!” they squealed as a group.

  One of the older boys strove to get near a microphone and be heard. “Mr. Kibo went on and on about Marduko dragons at the falls. He wouldn’t shut up about it.”

  “Oh my.” Choleela leaned closer to Kibo with the microphone extended. “You saw the dragons? How close were you? What can you tell us?”

  Devon stared past the news crews and saw Commander Vorden climb out of a truck and linger on the edge of the camp, squinting with displeasure at the commotion.

  She called out to him. “Commander! C
ome over here! This is a live international newsfeed. Would you like to show your face on camera? Come over here. The world is watching! Tell everyone exactly what you’re doing.”

  Commander Vorden was quick to cover his face with his palm and get back into the truck. Within moments the convoy turned around and was moving away from camp.

  Devon sighed with relief. She brushed her palm across Kibo’s arm with affection. “Here’s your hero. I slipped at the waterfall and hit my head. I must have been disoriented but mobile for hours because I found myself a long way from the falls after sundown.”

  Frowning in obvious disappointment, Choleela glanced at Kibo. “This man gave a gripping description to the local police of being attacked by a dragon-like creature at the falls. He said it had wings, horrible snapping jaws, and chased him.”

  Think. What could she say to protect her guys? “I slipped while climbing a dragon tree. A branch snapped. Perhaps there was some confusion?” God help her, she was such a bad liar.

  Choleela persisted. “What about the hiking party on Kilimanjaro that independently of all this radioed in a report of a screaming woman and two large pterodactyl-sized birds flying over the mountain?”

  She shrugged the comment off. “I don’t know what that could possibly be about.”

  Leaning close, Choleela whispered, “We drove all the way from Nairobi—give me something.”

  Devon grabbed Kibo, pulled him in front of her like a shield, and then thrust him toward the camera. “This is your hero. He’s your story! Mr. Kibo waited in the bush all night for me and made sure I got back to camp safely. Did you see those men who just turned around and left? Those are not good men. They are up to no good in the park. They tried to kidnap me. Even though Kibo was badly outnumbered, he pulled a gun on those men and defended me. I’m certain he saved my life. He’s an honest, shy, responsible man, and I think he’s also a bachelor.”

  Kibo bashfully covered his face in his palms and groaned. “It is true. I am not married.”

  Choleela pursed her lips in frustration. “There you have it. Apparently there are no dragons on Kilimanjaro, but ladies of the world, if you’re still paying attention, Mr. Kibo is a bachelor. This is Choleela Mandege of Nairobi Nine News.” With a single angry flip of her finger, she motioned to her cameraman to stop the tape.

  Choleela gazed at Devon. “No dragons? No rumors of dragons? Not even an ominous shadow passing over the landscape? You couldn’t even be bothered to elaborate a little about the gun battle in the bush?”

  Devon shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Damn.” Choleela pouted.

  Devon dared to ask, “Can I have a ride back to Nairobi?”

  Choleela gave Devon a cold stare. “No.”

  Fine. She marched off to find Kibo who had wandered away. How did that man walk so fast?

  Devon sat beside Kibo in the Jeep during the long, quiet ride to the Nairobi airport. She continually glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see Commander Vorden and his convoy of khaki-camouflaged vehicles rolling behind them, but she saw nothing suspicious on the crowded highway.

  Kibo parked in front of the Safari Air terminal.

  “Stay with the Jeep.” Devon turned toward Kibo. “Exchanging my airplane ticket will take forever. You don’t need to do any more for me.” She slipped a tight, folded stack of bills into his top pocket. “Thank you for everything.”

  Kibo protested the bills. “I don’t want money, miz.”

  “I was going to pay you this money regardless. You’re just getting it a few days early.” She patted his pocket. “Please take it. Buy a new windshield for the Jeep so you can see where the hell you’re driving.”

  He smiled for the first time in several hours, breaking the solemn elegance of his stark face. “Miz, I have to ask about the—”

  She shook her head. “You have nothing to fear from them. They’re not here to harm us. Maybe someday we’ll sit down together and talk about it, but not today.”

  He looked disappointed. “Yes, Miz Day-von. I understand.”

  “Thank you, Kibo.” She climbed out of the Jeep and reached for her single piece of carry-on luggage, half dreading to consider all she’d left behind at the hut. She had her passport, ticket to cash in, and her camera, and that was all that mattered. Her heart dropped as she walked into the airport terminal.

  Jace and Beau mattered, and she didn’t have them. It hurt to think of them and worry. She wondered where they were and if they were all right.

  She approached the Safari Air ticket counter and saw a discouraging sign announcing it would not be open for business for at least another two hours, and there was no one near who looked even vaguely like an employee.

  Devon took a seat in an uncomfortable orange plastic chair and settled in, prepared for a prolonged, boring wait.

  A bank of television screens blared overhead with an odd mix of conflicting content. Local and international news, a melodramatic South African soap opera, and flight updates competed against each other in a cacophony of noise.

  One of the television monitors caught her eye. A professorial man with a flowing gray beard and white-gloved hands held what he claimed was an ancient illuminated text. He turned the pages of a chunky vellum book that appeared to be solely illustrated with dragons and dragon lore.

  Devon leaped out of the chair and stood beneath the monitor, straining to listen to what the man was saying.

  The man spoke with authority, “Without doubt mankind has been encountering something otherworldly for millennia. The evidence is overwhelming. It’s undeniable that every culture around the globe supports some form of dragon lore. One has to ask the obvious question: Why would all these cultures, thoroughly isolated from each other, make something like this up?” He pointed to an especially fierce depiction of a bronze spike-crowned dragon.

  Devon knew exactly what she was looking at. Royal Jacesar Marduko. Her gut reaction was a burst of pride. The television screen displayed an illustrated glimpse of one of Jace’s great-great-grandfathers, and he was quite handsome in dragon form.

  The news story ended in an abrupt manner, and Choleela Mandege’s image flashed across the screen.

  Choleela looked far less severe than she had earlier. In fact she was beaming with excitement. “This is a breaking story from Nairobi Nine News. We have an exclusive interview with a woman who claims to have witnessed Marduko dragons circling Kilimanjaro.” She extended the microphone, and Benia’s weathered face loomed on the screen.

  “Dragons steal women.” Benia stepped too close to the lens and squinted into the camera. The camera was barely able to focus on her face. “Who is such a fool that they don’t already know this? This is not news!” She held up a scanty black thong. “The American woman who was taken by dragons is thirty-two years old, yet she wears the undergarments of a small child. I found this in Miz Day-von’s hut and I find this confusing. This is not proper underwear for a grown woman.”

  Choleela blanched and snatched the microphone away. “Thank you for that report.”

  Devon groaned. This was terrible! The Marduko were getting all the wrong kind of attention.

  Another television screen lit with the CCN Interglobal News logo and an anchorman’s smiling face. The man was handsome and urbane with close-cropped silver hair and twinkling blue eyes. He launched into a fast-spoken report. “Cryptozoologists—that’s right, I said cryptozoologists. Those are the folks who devote their otherwise empty lives to chasing creatures that don’t exist—now have something new to chase. A few heated reports surfaced earlier today that Amboseli National Park is playing host to flying dragons—big ones if accounts are to be believed.” He covered his eyes with his palm and started to giggle in a sweet, almost girlish voice. “Excuse me.” Blushing, he struggled to compose himself. “But don’t be draggin’ yourself to the airport just yet.” More giggling followed. “I’m sorry it’s such a bad pun. The purported dragon sightings have caused such excitement with people who hav
e nothing better to do with their time and money that Safari Air’s website has already crashed twice today, and we’re hearing demand for airline tickets to the area has reached an all-time high. So, dragon watchers of the world, good luck getting a flight in or out. In fact, you might want to catch a ride on the back of one of those dragons.”

  Devon’s jaw dropped. The dragon story had taken off like a match to gasoline. Now the secret was out; the world knew about Marduko dragons. Hopefully no one knew their human identities, and Jace and Beau could sneak back to the States unnoticed and unquestioned, but what would happen then?

  She gazed at the television screen. The soap opera was interrupted to make way for a news update and a long stream of dragon images throughout history poured past. Soon almost every television screen was showing images of dragons or Mount Kilimanjaro. The world had become obsessed with dragons. “Holy crap,” she muttered.

  A man stood uncomfortably close behind her. “There’s nothing holy about those abominations.”

  Devon turned. A clean-cut man in a navy blue suit who had the look of a fanatic shining in his glassy eyes stood uncomfortably close. She stepped away from him. “That’s your opinion.”

  The man grabbed hold of Devon’s carry-on bag, twisting his hands around the straps while tugging the zipper.

  “Stop it!” She struggled to wrestle the bag away from him. “I’m calling security.”

  The man immediately released his grip on the bag and glared at her with contempt. “Were you raped, or did you go with them willingly?”

  The look in his eyes chilled her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do, and if you’re smart, you’ll save yourself future heartache and walk away now.”

  “Security!” She scanned the airport for the sight of a police cap or anyone in authority.