Chapter 2
Marcus flew for several minutes. He passed burning buildings, old friends’ houses, infected populations traveling in large groups, and many, many corpses from the undead feasts. Marcus eventually came across the source of the noise. Three boys were standing on the roof of a collapsed building. Marcus guessed that the house was once white, but it was now many shades of gray. The sorry state of the house told Marcus that it did not burn down, but exploded. The debris around the area was a clear sign of earlier events.
Each of the boys held a different weapon. The tallest held what looked like a small cannon. One of the younger ones held a double barrel pump-action shotgun. The smallest held a pistol that reminded Marcus of the Dirty Harry movies. None of them stopped firing at the amassing army of zombies brought before them.
Marcus breathed in and waited for the heat. When he felt the warmth, he chose to keep holding until he could actually feel the flame inside of him. As soon as he felt it, Marcus breathed out and a larger flame than before ripped through the air and burned all of the undead before him. Marcus arched the flame across the large front yard and consumed the area in fire. The undead turned to flame and fell as ash.
When Marcus could not press air outward anymore, he stopped and the fires inside him died out. Marcus looked around for the boys, but they were nowhere in sight. He feared that he did too much and started to turn around to fly away when he heard a noise. One of the boys’ hands stuck out of a hole in the collapsed roof. Marcus walked up and said, “Get away from the roof, I’ll get you out.”
“You and what army?”
“Me and this army,” Marcus said before grabbing the roof with both claws. He took flight and lifted the roof thirty feet in the air before throwing it aside. He landed, but the boys disappeared. He said aloud, “I know you are there; I can smell you and feel your air. I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself again, there is plenty and to spare!”
He could smell the boys’ confusion, but it ended when one of them said, “No thank you, oh Smaug the Tremendous! I did not come for presents. I only wished to have a look at you and see if you were truly as great as the tales say. I did not believe them.”
“Do you now?”
“Nope, you’re still the big piece of shit I bunked with in high school.”
Marcus remarked, “Well at least some children today still know how to read books. I was afraid the television had poisoned your minds beyond repair.”
“And how does a dragon know how to read?”
“I wasn’t always a dragon. My name is Marcus. Who is it that I am conversing with?”
“I am the Barrel-rider,” said one.
“I am the Web-cutter,” said another.
“I wanted to be the Web-cutter,” said the last.
“Well too bad; you get to be the stinging fly.”
Marcus could see some of the rubble start to shake and heard much cursing. He was afraid that they might kill each other, so he breathed in yet again but roared out before it could catch fire. The fighting stopped, but their breathing increased. He said, “Honestly, how old are you? If you say anything above sixteen, I will not believe you and I will punish you for lying.”
“I’m eight.”
“I’m thirteen.”
“I’m sixteen. My name is Stephan, my youngest brother is Steven. The one between us is Stephen.”
“How original,” Marcus remarked. “Do you have parents?”
“Our father is in Europe fighting World War Three and our mother… Well, she isn’t with us anymore.”
“Tell me what happened here before I arrived.”
One of the boys built up the courage to lift his head above the rubble. He said, “Our father left us some stolen weapons from the armory. As soon as these things attacked us, we all went upstairs and climbed to the roof. Our little genius over here,” he pointed at the area where the youngest was hiding, “cut the gas line in the basement. It killed a lot of the undead, but we wasted almost all of our ammo in the fighting when they got up here.
“And your mother?”
“She was one of the first ones to change. I had to do it.”
Marcus said, “Say no more on the subject. I cannot say that I am your mother or your father, but I will be your parent until a suitable adult appears.”
“Wait! Wasn’t the whole conversation between Smaug and Bilbo an attempt by Smaug to get Bilbo out of hiding?”
“Were I anything like Smaug, you would have all died five minutes ago.”
The other boys revealed themselves and Marcus backed away so they could see his whole form, not just his teeth. They stood motionless; they waited for the beast to go back on his word. When he made it clear that he did not plan on it, Stephan grabbed his pack from behind the rubble and told the others to do the same. Stephen looked to Steven and asked, “You ok?”
“I’m fine; I just feel queasy.”
Marcus said, “When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday morning was when our food supplies ran out.”
“You haven’t been eaten since yesterday? Well then, I should find you some food. But that will be later. Let us be off into the wild blue yonder.”
The boys made there way to him and he let slide a single leg for them to climb upon. They went one at a time for reasons unknown and took their time climbing his massive plating. As soon as the youngest was on his claw, a howl was heard across the area. A hundred of the mutated undead stormed the street and tried to take out the boys.
The tactic would have worked perfectly as Marcus was not able to maneuver without harming the child on his leg and even if he was able to move, he would leave a single child on the ground. In the great scheme of the undead, however, there was a flaw that burned their plans to ashes.
That flaw was the fact that Marcus was a dragon, and dragons can literally kill with their breath. Marcus unleashed a single flame that he swept across the field and all of the undead started to flail around like mad men. Steven, who just finished climbing his leg, said, “Did you know that you become twice your usual size when you breathe in?” Marcus breathed in again and marveled at the truth of the observation. Marcus could see his chest and stomach nearly triple in size. He could also see Stephan struggling up his leg and spun his head around to make a step for him. Marcus placed him on his back when he felt the heat yet again. He folded up his wings and unleashed the flame downward.
Marcus was launched several feet in the air. He unfolded his wings and took flight. The added weight slowed him down, but he could compensate. Marcus turned to the northwest, where friends and family were waiting for him.
Each of the boys held a different weapon. The tallest held what looked like a small cannon. One of the younger ones held a double barrel pump-action shotgun. The smallest held a pistol that reminded Marcus of the Dirty Harry movies. None of them stopped firing at the amassing army of zombies brought before them.
Marcus breathed in and waited for the heat. When he felt the warmth, he chose to keep holding until he could actually feel the flame inside of him. As soon as he felt it, Marcus breathed out and a larger flame than before ripped through the air and burned all of the undead before him. Marcus arched the flame across the large front yard and consumed the area in fire. The undead turned to flame and fell as ash.
When Marcus could not press air outward anymore, he stopped and the fires inside him died out. Marcus looked around for the boys, but they were nowhere in sight. He feared that he did too much and started to turn around to fly away when he heard a noise. One of the boys’ hands stuck out of a hole in the collapsed roof. Marcus walked up and said, “Get away from the roof, I’ll get you out.”
“You and what army?”
“Me and this army,” Marcus said before grabbing the roof with both claws. He took flight and lifted the roof thirty feet in the air before throwing it aside. He landed, but the boys disappeared. He said aloud, “I know you are there; I can smell you and feel your air. I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself again, there is plenty and to spare!”
He could smell the boys’ confusion, but it ended when one of them said, “No thank you, oh Smaug the Tremendous! I did not come for presents. I only wished to have a look at you and see if you were truly as great as the tales say. I did not believe them.”
“Do you now?”
“Nope, you’re still the big piece of shit I bunked with in high school.”
Marcus remarked, “Well at least some children today still know how to read books. I was afraid the television had poisoned your minds beyond repair.”
“And how does a dragon know how to read?”
“I wasn’t always a dragon. My name is Marcus. Who is it that I am conversing with?”
“I am the Barrel-rider,” said one.
“I am the Web-cutter,” said another.
“I wanted to be the Web-cutter,” said the last.
“Well too bad; you get to be the stinging fly.”
Marcus could see some of the rubble start to shake and heard much cursing. He was afraid that they might kill each other, so he breathed in yet again but roared out before it could catch fire. The fighting stopped, but their breathing increased. He said, “Honestly, how old are you? If you say anything above sixteen, I will not believe you and I will punish you for lying.”
“I’m eight.”
“I’m thirteen.”
“I’m sixteen. My name is Stephan, my youngest brother is Steven. The one between us is Stephen.”
“How original,” Marcus remarked. “Do you have parents?”
“Our father is in Europe fighting World War Three and our mother… Well, she isn’t with us anymore.”
“Tell me what happened here before I arrived.”
One of the boys built up the courage to lift his head above the rubble. He said, “Our father left us some stolen weapons from the armory. As soon as these things attacked us, we all went upstairs and climbed to the roof. Our little genius over here,” he pointed at the area where the youngest was hiding, “cut the gas line in the basement. It killed a lot of the undead, but we wasted almost all of our ammo in the fighting when they got up here.
“And your mother?”
“She was one of the first ones to change. I had to do it.”
Marcus said, “Say no more on the subject. I cannot say that I am your mother or your father, but I will be your parent until a suitable adult appears.”
“Wait! Wasn’t the whole conversation between Smaug and Bilbo an attempt by Smaug to get Bilbo out of hiding?”
“Were I anything like Smaug, you would have all died five minutes ago.”
The other boys revealed themselves and Marcus backed away so they could see his whole form, not just his teeth. They stood motionless; they waited for the beast to go back on his word. When he made it clear that he did not plan on it, Stephan grabbed his pack from behind the rubble and told the others to do the same. Stephen looked to Steven and asked, “You ok?”
“I’m fine; I just feel queasy.”
Marcus said, “When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday morning was when our food supplies ran out.”
“You haven’t been eaten since yesterday? Well then, I should find you some food. But that will be later. Let us be off into the wild blue yonder.”
The boys made there way to him and he let slide a single leg for them to climb upon. They went one at a time for reasons unknown and took their time climbing his massive plating. As soon as the youngest was on his claw, a howl was heard across the area. A hundred of the mutated undead stormed the street and tried to take out the boys.
The tactic would have worked perfectly as Marcus was not able to maneuver without harming the child on his leg and even if he was able to move, he would leave a single child on the ground. In the great scheme of the undead, however, there was a flaw that burned their plans to ashes.
That flaw was the fact that Marcus was a dragon, and dragons can literally kill with their breath. Marcus unleashed a single flame that he swept across the field and all of the undead started to flail around like mad men. Steven, who just finished climbing his leg, said, “Did you know that you become twice your usual size when you breathe in?” Marcus breathed in again and marveled at the truth of the observation. Marcus could see his chest and stomach nearly triple in size. He could also see Stephan struggling up his leg and spun his head around to make a step for him. Marcus placed him on his back when he felt the heat yet again. He folded up his wings and unleashed the flame downward.
Marcus was launched several feet in the air. He unfolded his wings and took flight. The added weight slowed him down, but he could compensate. Marcus turned to the northwest, where friends and family were waiting for him.