Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
If only the projector would start up and make my dream a reality.
I take another large bite, and then pause.
Projector. Hmm. I turn in my seat and look up at the projector room. I wonder if there’s anything in there that could be worth scavenging. Even though I’m thinking about the Before, I still have to live in the After.
I take another bite of my food and get to my feet, curious. I don’t see a way up to the projector behind me, but it looks like the room itself is attached to the theater next to this one. Two projectors in the same nook, perhaps? It makes sense. If so, maybe the way up is in the other theater. I carefully head in that direction, and come to an adjoining door.
Automatically, I shove my sandwich into my mouth and hold it with my teeth so I can free up my hand to open the door, automatically pushing against the door and leaning in before the heavy weight of it can close behind me.
To my surprise, this room is full of sunlight, and I squint as I stand in the doorway. Part of the ceiling has collapsed here, and bright light floods in from above. It blinds me, and I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them a tiny bit to try and make out my surroundings. The seats here are a bright gold, oddly enough, and it takes up most of my vision.
Then, my eyes adjust and I realize I’m not looking at seats, but the enormous blur of gold in front of me is nothing more than…scales.
An enormous amount of scales.
Attached to a sleeping dragon.
I stare in horror as one clawed foot stretches out, catlike, and the dragon yawns, his mouth opening wide as I wake him up. Black-and-gold-filled eyes blink twice, and then focus on me.
I’ve never been this close to a dragon. Up close, I can see the slow lash of his tail as it flicks back and forth. The enormous black claws. The delicate wings folded along his back. The dragon’s head is as big as a car, the snout angular and full of sharp teeth. One of the horns on his frill is broken and there’s a hint of a scar near one large, liquid eye. Nostrils flare as if he’s catching my scent.
This isn’t one of Azar’s empty-eyed zombie-dragons. This is one of the people killers….and I’m less than twenty feet away from its face.
I panic.
The sandwich drops from my mouth onto the floor, and I don’t stop to get it. With a gasp of terror, I kick it out of the way of the door and then slam the door shut behind me, panting.
I hear movement on the other side.
Sheer terror rips through me. I race out of the theater, then back through the lobby. I manage to make it back through the chained doors once more, slipping through the gap, and then race out into the parking lot. I’m shaking with fright, and I turn to stare at the movie theater behind me, expecting to see the dragon rising from it. To watch him come and hunt me down.
The scars on my face burn. Panicked tears run down my cheeks, and I’m sobbing as I stare, waiting.
There’s nothing for a long, long moment. Maybe…maybe he’s not coming after me? It doesn’t matter. I’m still not safe. I turn and race back the way I came, all the way back to where Brady’s still asleep in the back of a truck, and turn to scan the skies again.
Still no dragon. What the fuck? I pull up a handful of my dress and swipe at my messy face. Am I not worth pursuing? Worth eating?
I’m relieved.
I don’t trust it, though. I bang a hand against the truck bed and jerk when Brady grabs his gun and points it at my face.
“Can we get out of here?”
He scowls in my direction. “What the fuck crawled up your ass?”
“I want to leave,” I snarl at him. “Now.”
“What’s going on?” He squints at me. “You crying, Scarface?”
I grab my pack and strap it onto the basket at the front of my bike. I don’t want to tell him I ran into a dragon. He’ll probably just shoot me to save himself. If I tell them I saw a dragon—and how far I ventured—I’ll never get to come out again, either.
So I say the only thing that will make Brady shut up. “I’ve got cramps,” I say. “I need to get back to the fort before I start bleeding like a stuck pig.”
“Ugh!” Brady gives me a look of sheer horror. “You’re fucking disgusting.”
“Let’s just go, okay?” I get on my bicycle and start pedaling before he can say anything.
There’s no dragon as we head back to the fort. No trumpeting call of fury, no fresh flames, no scent of smoke. All is quiet.