Chapter 9
At dawn the next morning, the crane hummed to life as it stared to lift the scrapped bus out of its place. Marcus positioned himself below the crane where a boat was supposed to be and twenty very brave men tried to keep their balance on his back. Twelve of the men held hooks, two per limb of his body. The eight others were present to ensure the bus was in the right position. Twice the crane operator dropped it in the wrong position. On the second try, Marcus shifted his body so it was correct.
When all of the hooks were in place, the men jumped off into the water and the crane attachments were cut loose. Marcus’s saddle was finished, but the men still had to load it with supplies. He refused to allow them to take from their own stockpile, so he asked them to take the bags off his neck. Marcus pressed the chain of bags forward until it was at the edge of his head. Only ten of the original twenty chose to get that close to his maw, and Liz helped them out.
Once the bags were in his saddle, Marcus went to the town one last time. A few people had gathered to watch his passing, but most of the citizens were still asleep. Marcus let down a single leg for the four travelers to climb. They bid farewell to their families and entered the bus. Liz was the last up and they were in the air shortly after that. Before entering the bus, Liz asked, “Are you ready?”
“I should be asking you the very same question.”
Marcus turned in the wrong direction and spun around to fly over the island one last time. Marcus looked down and saw a hundred people look up at him. He wondered how many of them wanted him to leave; he did not like the answer and put his mind on other things. As they passed over the southern beach, Marcus kept his heading south and only turned slightly west when there was no land in sight. He flew slowly and accelerated only when he could feel the wind pick up speed. It was sundown when he saw land on the other side.
However, it was not land he saw, but the towers of Chicago. Their peaks were like spears sticking out of the earth; a great blemish on what he believed was once a perfect landscape. When Marcus was a mile away from the shores, he turned upward and slowly climbed until those who looked upon the skies would see a slow-flying bird. Marcus was soon past the city and he let himself drop a few hundred feet. He glided a slow and lazy turn to the west, where only a thin line of the sun remained. Marcus spent his time trying to predict the changes in the air current and, more times than not, was wrong. After twenty three attempts at beating the current, he finally got it right and was pulled half a mile upward before riding the sharp upper winds for a hundred miles. The sun rose on the second day.
Marcus passed over lush forestland, overgrown farms of wheat and corn, and man towns. He avoided the major cities, as the undead and the military would not meet them with open arms.
Marcus was less than a hundred feet from the ground and he started to rise again, but something caught his vision; a field of sickly brown and grey. Marcus turned north and flew to the anomaly. He guessed that the undead were moving to the uninfected areas, but the entire east coast? Marcus flew as high as he could go without going into the upper jet streams. Still, the undead legion had no end in the horizon. It was not a sea, but an ocean of brown. Every friend, enemy, and family member Marcus ever knew was in the east coast at the time of the incursion. His mind filled with regret, and he needed to remind himself of those he was carrying. They were his family now, and he needed to protect them from becoming as the undead below him. Marcus also needed them as a tool to keep his willpower high enough for him to continue flying. If they were to perish, and all of humanity died out, he would not have a reason to exist.
Marcus turned away from the army and slowly climbed upward. He kept himself in a constant spiral so the scent of the ones he was carrying would disappear to the undead on the ground. When he was at a sufficient height, he leveled off and flew away from the still rising sun. Marcus turned slightly to the north to ward off the undead army. The next two days were uneventful. On the third day, Liz threatened to dump the sewage tank onto Marcus’s back and he landed at the edge of a small town. They voted Mitch to dump the tanks in a river; Marcus was the original nominee, but a campaign speech that involved a lot of teeth and fire gave Mitch a unanimous vote.
After the tanks were emptied, the group searched the town for any living populace, but the town was disserted. They collected any food, ammunition, and supplies they could find and stuffed it into the spare seats of the bus. The stockpile was huge, and the humans needed to sit at the front of the bus so they would not be crushed should the bungee cords fail. They took flight and only stopped once after that due to an argument between Marcus and Liz.
Liz believed they were heading too far north and needed to turn southwest before reaching the Rocky Mountains. Marcus believed they should simply continue on their current path until they were past the mountains and then turn south. Everyone in the group knew who would win the argument, but Liz was persistent. She had grown used to the giant teeth and she had an argument that Marcus couldn’t deny. She said, “We’re far enough away from the undead that they won’t follow us. They may turn slightly west and meet up with us if we take the long way. Then they’ll have a fresh trail to follow.”
Marcus responded, “You would have us take the risk that we are far enough away and that they have lost our trail?”
“Yes I would.”
“And what happens if you are wrong? What happens when an army of tens of millions besiege the last civilization in North America?”
“You can burn that many, right?”
“I am a dragon, not a god. You do not understand just how many ten million is. If I had some help, and it was just a small group of survivors hiding where the undead cannot go, then possibly after a few years of burning them.”
Liz was intent on turning, so intent that she threatened to jump off him and walk the rest of the way should she survive, which she would not. Marcus landed and said to her, “Go on. Walk! We may meet again one day, but I may not be so inclined to call you friend.”
Marcus took flight and landed several hundred yards away, beyond a hill. Mitch and Jason went after her, and Marcus engaged in conversation with Thomas about who would win in a one on one fight between a US Marine and a Canadian hunter. Thomas was a persistent old bastard with a heart twice as big as his body. He only gave up when Marcus stopped using reason in his arguments and the conversation changed to drinking to politics to baseball. Marcus enjoyed the unorthodox debate and he only stopped when he heard Mitch yell, “She changed her mind,” as he walked over the hill between them.
Jason laughed like it was the funniest thing he heard in a month. Liz walked between them with a sad look on her face. When they were close enough to talk, Marcus said, “I would love to know what you did to her.”
Jason said, “I snuck behind her and started to make hissing noises. We found a box of red paint. You can pretty much guess the rest.”
Liz gave Marcus an angry look as she silently made her way up to the bus. Marcus knew she was angry, but anger never lasted. He used his tail to lift the others up and took flight. Just to annoy her further, Marcus turned south west and passed over the mountains without stopping. Liz’s plan worked, obviously, but Marcus needed to teach her not to even try to order him around. Marcus understood a solid argument, but she resorted to threats on two occasions; he wouldn’t tolerate anything like that again.
He dearly hoped that she understood his message, but he also hoped that her anger would not last too long. As Marcus flew, he could hear arguing over his shoulder. At first it was just Liz, but it went on for an hour before Mitch and Jason got involved. A few minutes later, Thomas even got angry. Marcus landed at a scenic viewing point off of the highway. He turned to the side, and the group fell to his wing, where they fell to the ground. They ignored the hard landing and continued shouting at each other.
From the commotion, Marcus could discern three facts: Mitch said something about earlier events that Liz found offensive, she said something that they found offensive, and everyone yelled at Thomas when he tried to calm them down. Their faces were turning red, and Marcus simply watched; better they let off their steam now rather than three hundred meters up.
Thirty minutes later, the sun started to set. They were still bickering and yelling when Marcus placed his head on the ground and closed his eyes. He stayed awake; he simply wanted to ensure nobody started getting physical. He felt someone touch his cheek and he opened a single eye. Thomas was standing below him. He said, “You’re missing all the fun! What’s the matter? You don’t play well with others?”
“No, I just don’t want to get involved. I’ll add to the fun when someone does something I don’t like. Until then, I’ll let them bicker,” Marcus sighed and asked, “Did you ever notice how every decision comes down to me?”
“Well, you’re our protection, our food source, our transportation, our warmth, our logic – the rest of these people lost theirs a long time ago – and our only chance at seeing other people again. Hell, we’d be dead or ignorant by now if it weren’t for you.”
“What exactly did they say?”
“Liz said something about Jason being a child; he said something else about her being his daughter’s age and then it just turned into a lot of screaming and swearing. Are you just going to sit there and let them deal with it?”
“Only if I need to, which I do not. It seems the truth of humanity is shown when they argue. I got rid of a lot of myself when I changed; that is what separates me from the rest of humanity. I cannot get angry and-”
“Well your reaction earlier showed otherwise.”
“Don’t let my actions deceive you; my fangs are a diplomatic tool when I don’t want to kill anyone.”
“Do you now?”
“Only when insulting words become actions. Then I will kill without mercy. Take my advice; don’t do it.”
“That’s probably the best advice I’ve gotten all day. So, you’ll kill them if they do something?”
“If they raise their arms then I will raise my voice. If they do not heed a warning like that, then I will not heed their pleas for mercy.”
Jason turned to Mitch and the yelling continued. Liz was catching her breath and watched on as they continued to argue. They moved closer to each other, but Marcus kept quiet. Thomas gave Marcus an uncomfortable look; he never looked more worried. After a long pause, Jason looked at Liz and back at Mitch. Mitch turned to look at Marcus; he watched them fight with a blank gaze. Another minute went by with silence. Marcus continued to stare at them and they were either trying to calm down or trying to decide if they should attack or not.
Jason was the first to throw a punch. It was followed by two more from Mitch and there was a single second before they were in the dirt. Marcus roared, “That is enough!”
They did not stop. He placed his head directly over them, but they were lost in their own world. He opened his jaws over them and placed both sides on the ground. He breathed in and out before the air could combust. The roar could have been heard for miles, but it must have been deafening to the men who were less than fifty feet away from his vocal cords.
They stopped fighting and crawled away from each other. Marcus lifted his maw and saw the fear in their eyes. They thought that they were going to die at that moment, but Marcus was kind to them, as it was a first offence. He said, “I said that was enough! You call yourselves elders? I feel like the parent of a new pair of hatchlings. I do not know why you fought, and I do not care. Act like your age, get a grip, and get on my back, lest I change my mind.”
They all silently climbed his lowered head spikes and made their way down his neck back to the bus. Thomas was the only one to look him in the eye. He winked and climbed into his seat.
When all of the hooks were in place, the men jumped off into the water and the crane attachments were cut loose. Marcus’s saddle was finished, but the men still had to load it with supplies. He refused to allow them to take from their own stockpile, so he asked them to take the bags off his neck. Marcus pressed the chain of bags forward until it was at the edge of his head. Only ten of the original twenty chose to get that close to his maw, and Liz helped them out.
Once the bags were in his saddle, Marcus went to the town one last time. A few people had gathered to watch his passing, but most of the citizens were still asleep. Marcus let down a single leg for the four travelers to climb. They bid farewell to their families and entered the bus. Liz was the last up and they were in the air shortly after that. Before entering the bus, Liz asked, “Are you ready?”
“I should be asking you the very same question.”
Marcus turned in the wrong direction and spun around to fly over the island one last time. Marcus looked down and saw a hundred people look up at him. He wondered how many of them wanted him to leave; he did not like the answer and put his mind on other things. As they passed over the southern beach, Marcus kept his heading south and only turned slightly west when there was no land in sight. He flew slowly and accelerated only when he could feel the wind pick up speed. It was sundown when he saw land on the other side.
However, it was not land he saw, but the towers of Chicago. Their peaks were like spears sticking out of the earth; a great blemish on what he believed was once a perfect landscape. When Marcus was a mile away from the shores, he turned upward and slowly climbed until those who looked upon the skies would see a slow-flying bird. Marcus was soon past the city and he let himself drop a few hundred feet. He glided a slow and lazy turn to the west, where only a thin line of the sun remained. Marcus spent his time trying to predict the changes in the air current and, more times than not, was wrong. After twenty three attempts at beating the current, he finally got it right and was pulled half a mile upward before riding the sharp upper winds for a hundred miles. The sun rose on the second day.
Marcus passed over lush forestland, overgrown farms of wheat and corn, and man towns. He avoided the major cities, as the undead and the military would not meet them with open arms.
Marcus was less than a hundred feet from the ground and he started to rise again, but something caught his vision; a field of sickly brown and grey. Marcus turned north and flew to the anomaly. He guessed that the undead were moving to the uninfected areas, but the entire east coast? Marcus flew as high as he could go without going into the upper jet streams. Still, the undead legion had no end in the horizon. It was not a sea, but an ocean of brown. Every friend, enemy, and family member Marcus ever knew was in the east coast at the time of the incursion. His mind filled with regret, and he needed to remind himself of those he was carrying. They were his family now, and he needed to protect them from becoming as the undead below him. Marcus also needed them as a tool to keep his willpower high enough for him to continue flying. If they were to perish, and all of humanity died out, he would not have a reason to exist.
Marcus turned away from the army and slowly climbed upward. He kept himself in a constant spiral so the scent of the ones he was carrying would disappear to the undead on the ground. When he was at a sufficient height, he leveled off and flew away from the still rising sun. Marcus turned slightly to the north to ward off the undead army. The next two days were uneventful. On the third day, Liz threatened to dump the sewage tank onto Marcus’s back and he landed at the edge of a small town. They voted Mitch to dump the tanks in a river; Marcus was the original nominee, but a campaign speech that involved a lot of teeth and fire gave Mitch a unanimous vote.
After the tanks were emptied, the group searched the town for any living populace, but the town was disserted. They collected any food, ammunition, and supplies they could find and stuffed it into the spare seats of the bus. The stockpile was huge, and the humans needed to sit at the front of the bus so they would not be crushed should the bungee cords fail. They took flight and only stopped once after that due to an argument between Marcus and Liz.
Liz believed they were heading too far north and needed to turn southwest before reaching the Rocky Mountains. Marcus believed they should simply continue on their current path until they were past the mountains and then turn south. Everyone in the group knew who would win the argument, but Liz was persistent. She had grown used to the giant teeth and she had an argument that Marcus couldn’t deny. She said, “We’re far enough away from the undead that they won’t follow us. They may turn slightly west and meet up with us if we take the long way. Then they’ll have a fresh trail to follow.”
Marcus responded, “You would have us take the risk that we are far enough away and that they have lost our trail?”
“Yes I would.”
“And what happens if you are wrong? What happens when an army of tens of millions besiege the last civilization in North America?”
“You can burn that many, right?”
“I am a dragon, not a god. You do not understand just how many ten million is. If I had some help, and it was just a small group of survivors hiding where the undead cannot go, then possibly after a few years of burning them.”
Liz was intent on turning, so intent that she threatened to jump off him and walk the rest of the way should she survive, which she would not. Marcus landed and said to her, “Go on. Walk! We may meet again one day, but I may not be so inclined to call you friend.”
Marcus took flight and landed several hundred yards away, beyond a hill. Mitch and Jason went after her, and Marcus engaged in conversation with Thomas about who would win in a one on one fight between a US Marine and a Canadian hunter. Thomas was a persistent old bastard with a heart twice as big as his body. He only gave up when Marcus stopped using reason in his arguments and the conversation changed to drinking to politics to baseball. Marcus enjoyed the unorthodox debate and he only stopped when he heard Mitch yell, “She changed her mind,” as he walked over the hill between them.
Jason laughed like it was the funniest thing he heard in a month. Liz walked between them with a sad look on her face. When they were close enough to talk, Marcus said, “I would love to know what you did to her.”
Jason said, “I snuck behind her and started to make hissing noises. We found a box of red paint. You can pretty much guess the rest.”
Liz gave Marcus an angry look as she silently made her way up to the bus. Marcus knew she was angry, but anger never lasted. He used his tail to lift the others up and took flight. Just to annoy her further, Marcus turned south west and passed over the mountains without stopping. Liz’s plan worked, obviously, but Marcus needed to teach her not to even try to order him around. Marcus understood a solid argument, but she resorted to threats on two occasions; he wouldn’t tolerate anything like that again.
He dearly hoped that she understood his message, but he also hoped that her anger would not last too long. As Marcus flew, he could hear arguing over his shoulder. At first it was just Liz, but it went on for an hour before Mitch and Jason got involved. A few minutes later, Thomas even got angry. Marcus landed at a scenic viewing point off of the highway. He turned to the side, and the group fell to his wing, where they fell to the ground. They ignored the hard landing and continued shouting at each other.
From the commotion, Marcus could discern three facts: Mitch said something about earlier events that Liz found offensive, she said something that they found offensive, and everyone yelled at Thomas when he tried to calm them down. Their faces were turning red, and Marcus simply watched; better they let off their steam now rather than three hundred meters up.
Thirty minutes later, the sun started to set. They were still bickering and yelling when Marcus placed his head on the ground and closed his eyes. He stayed awake; he simply wanted to ensure nobody started getting physical. He felt someone touch his cheek and he opened a single eye. Thomas was standing below him. He said, “You’re missing all the fun! What’s the matter? You don’t play well with others?”
“No, I just don’t want to get involved. I’ll add to the fun when someone does something I don’t like. Until then, I’ll let them bicker,” Marcus sighed and asked, “Did you ever notice how every decision comes down to me?”
“Well, you’re our protection, our food source, our transportation, our warmth, our logic – the rest of these people lost theirs a long time ago – and our only chance at seeing other people again. Hell, we’d be dead or ignorant by now if it weren’t for you.”
“What exactly did they say?”
“Liz said something about Jason being a child; he said something else about her being his daughter’s age and then it just turned into a lot of screaming and swearing. Are you just going to sit there and let them deal with it?”
“Only if I need to, which I do not. It seems the truth of humanity is shown when they argue. I got rid of a lot of myself when I changed; that is what separates me from the rest of humanity. I cannot get angry and-”
“Well your reaction earlier showed otherwise.”
“Don’t let my actions deceive you; my fangs are a diplomatic tool when I don’t want to kill anyone.”
“Do you now?”
“Only when insulting words become actions. Then I will kill without mercy. Take my advice; don’t do it.”
“That’s probably the best advice I’ve gotten all day. So, you’ll kill them if they do something?”
“If they raise their arms then I will raise my voice. If they do not heed a warning like that, then I will not heed their pleas for mercy.”
Jason turned to Mitch and the yelling continued. Liz was catching her breath and watched on as they continued to argue. They moved closer to each other, but Marcus kept quiet. Thomas gave Marcus an uncomfortable look; he never looked more worried. After a long pause, Jason looked at Liz and back at Mitch. Mitch turned to look at Marcus; he watched them fight with a blank gaze. Another minute went by with silence. Marcus continued to stare at them and they were either trying to calm down or trying to decide if they should attack or not.
Jason was the first to throw a punch. It was followed by two more from Mitch and there was a single second before they were in the dirt. Marcus roared, “That is enough!”
They did not stop. He placed his head directly over them, but they were lost in their own world. He opened his jaws over them and placed both sides on the ground. He breathed in and out before the air could combust. The roar could have been heard for miles, but it must have been deafening to the men who were less than fifty feet away from his vocal cords.
They stopped fighting and crawled away from each other. Marcus lifted his maw and saw the fear in their eyes. They thought that they were going to die at that moment, but Marcus was kind to them, as it was a first offence. He said, “I said that was enough! You call yourselves elders? I feel like the parent of a new pair of hatchlings. I do not know why you fought, and I do not care. Act like your age, get a grip, and get on my back, lest I change my mind.”
They all silently climbed his lowered head spikes and made their way down his neck back to the bus. Thomas was the only one to look him in the eye. He winked and climbed into his seat.