Read Scorched Page 13


  Come on! Hurry!

  A cry cut through the night air. Screeching, inhuman. Connor paused, fear sliding down his back. His eyes fell upon the jagged shards of glass jutting out from the window. The roof outside, slick from recent rain.

  I don’t know…he hedged. It was different now from when they’d practiced. More real. More dangerous. Outside, the dragon let out another cry, chilling him to the bone.

  Caleb gave him a disgusted look through the window. You really want to miss this?

  He sighed. Of course he didn’t. Pushing down his rising dread, he forced himself to step through the window slowly, carefully, so as not to cut himself on the glass. Up here on the Surface Lands, even the smallest cut could turn deadly.

  Once outside, he cautiously slid down the roof to join Caleb below. It was even slipperier than he’d imagined; the sudden drop in temperature had made it almost icy. When he finally reached his brother, he let out a sigh of relief. Caleb gave him an approving grin, then pointed to the ground below. There, their father readied himself for battle, unaware of his sons watching from above. This was it!

  The sky darkened, causing Connor’s heart to stutter all over again. Looking up, he caught a large, dark shadow eclipsing the setting sun. He gasped, fear thrumming through his veins. There she was, in the flesh.

  She was huge. The hugest he’d ever seen, with shiny, blue scales sparkling in the fading light. Connor drew in a breath. She must have been old—maybe one of the original fifteen even—and he knew the Council would pay top silver for her head. Enough to keep their mother in medicine, pay their rent down below, and maybe even have a little left over for Caleb’s tuition to the academy. So the first-born twin could carry on the family tradition and become a Hunter himself.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Caleb marveled. “It’s almost a shame Dad has to kill her.”

  Connor shook his head. He had no idea how his twin could see beauty in the empty-eyed, overgrown lizards with razor-sharp teeth and bulletproof scales, especially considering what these creatures had done to the world. In his opinion, they all deserved to die—as painfully as possible.

  Pride flowed through him as he watched his father line up his target with deadly precision. He could almost hear his Hunter’s song as he enticed the beast closer and closer, until she was finally within range.

  BANG!

  The recoil from the gun-blade echoed through the Surface Lands, shaking the roof of the church. The dragon squawked as the bullet bounced harmlessly off her sapphire scales. Their father swore under his breath. He’d missed the sweet spot. The one soft scale under the left wing that could take down even the mightiest of beasts. His father liked to brag about one-shot kills. But today evidently wasn’t his day.

  The creature retaliated immediately, opening her mouth and releasing her flames. Searing the ground mere inches from where their father stood. Connor watched, drenched in sweat from the sudden heat, feeling as if the pounding of his heart would crack his ribs. Come on, Dad! he urged. Kill her already!

  The dragon stopped short. She turned slowly, abandoning his father, her beady black eyes scanning the sky until they fell upon Connor. He gasped, shrinking against the roof as the creature met his gaze. Had she heard his thoughts somehow? Had they broken his dad’s spell?

  They had to get inside. Now. Before it was too late.

  Come on! he cried to Caleb, who sat unaware, still mesmerized by the creature. We’ve got to go!

  He grabbed his brother’s hand, trying to drag him to the window. But Caleb wouldn’t budge—he just kept staring into the dragon’s eyes. Connor yanked him again—there was no way he was leaving his twin behind—but the jerky movement only served to throw him off balance. A moment later, Connor found himself sliding down the roof at top speed. He screamed.

  “Caleb! Help!”

  But Caleb didn’t seem to hear him. And as Connor tumbled from the rooftop onto the ground below, the dragon’s screech reverberated in his ears. He slammed onto the desert floor, a sharp pain shooting up his leg as his ankle crumpled beneath him.

  “Connor!” he vaguely heard his father cry. But the dragon was already on him, black smoke billowing from her nostrils, sparks crackling at the back of her throat. Connor tried to scramble away, but his foot dragged uselessly behind him, trapping him where he stood. Unprotected. Exposed.

  The deadly beast pulled back her gigantean head, opening her mouth, ready to release her inferno upon him. One more moment and the fire would come. If he was lucky, it’d be over quickly. If not…

  Suddenly he was tossed to the side like a sack of potatoes. He hit the ground hard, a few yards away, the pain shooting up his leg all over again. Grasping his ankle, he looked up just in time to see the dragon let loose a stream of fire—hitting his father square in the chest.

  “No!” he cried as his father collapsed, engulfed in a sea of flames.

  The dragon turned back to Connor, her mouth curling into a sadistic smile.

  On instinct, Connor dove for the discarded gun-blade, ignoring the brutal pain in his ankle. Gripping the weapon in both hands, adrenaline pounding through him, he charged the creature full force, putting everything he had into the weapon’s thrust, just as his father had taught him. The blade sung true, sliding into the dragon’s one soft scale like a hot knife through butter.

  The beast bellowed in agony, collapsing to the ground and writhing in pain as the steel pierced her unprotected heart. Black blood oozed from the wound and Connor met the creature’s eyes with his own, staring her down with defiant rage. He yanked the blood-soaked blade free, then stabbed the fiend again. And again. And again. And—

  “Connor, stop! She’s dead. The dragon’s dead!” He felt his mother’s arms grab him from behind and drag him away. He fell to the ground, still half lost in an adrenaline-induced haze. His mother dropped to her knees, searching his face with her own tear-stained one.

  “Dad?” he managed to blurt out, even though he knew in his heart what her answer would be. No one survived a full-on dragon blast—not even the best Hunter in the land.

  Mom shook her head. “I’m sorry, Connor,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. He buried his face in her shoulder, allowing the grief to consume him. His mother held him close, rocking him gently, soothing him in soft whispers. “But he died a hero. A true Hunter.”

  Her words were meant to comfort but only served to wrack Connor with guilt. He’d acted foolishly, disobeyed orders, and now, because of it, a great man was dead. His father was dead. And more would likely follow too—with the people of the strata now left without a trained Hunter to protect them. Who knew how long it would take for the Council to send reinforcements to this forgotten corner of the world? They barely had enough Academy graduates to protect the big cities.

  It was up to him now. He had no choice but to shoulder his father’s birthright. It was the only possible way to make himself worthy of his father’s sacrifice. He rose and limped over to the dragon’s corpse. The beast looked smaller now. Shrunken. A shadow of the deadly creature she’d once been. As he stared down at the monster who had stolen his beloved father away, disgust and fury threatened to consume him.

  He squeezed his hands into fists, his nails cutting into his palms. “I will hunt your kind until you’ve been wiped off the face of the Earth. No matter what I have to do.”

  ***

  “Dad!”

  Connor shot up in bed, a sharp pain drilling through his skull. He was in a small room—two matching beds, simple furniture—smelling slightly of mildew. A radiator in one corner rattled and spit while the TV on the dresser blared an advertisement for soap. Outside the window, a neon sign buzzed and flickered, matching the beats of his throbbing head.

  He sank down onto his pillow, sucking in a breath, forcing the nightmare to retreat to the back of his mind. It had been seven long years since his father’s death and yet hardly a night went by when his brain didn’t manage to conjure up a full-color torturous play-by-play
of that day.

  The day he’d killed his father.

  He’d told Trinity he was here to save the world. But that wasn’t the whole truth. He wanted to save his father.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes, Dad,” he whispered.

  “Whatever what takes?”

  Connor looked up. The bathroom door at the far end of the room squeaked opened and Trinity’s grandfather stepped out, buckling his belt as he limped back over to the motel television, palming the remote and increasing the already near-deafening volume. He’d been glued to the set since they’d arrived in New Mexico a few hours before—the last location Connor had felt Trinity’s spark before it had sputtered out.

  “Nothing,” he said quickly, sitting up in bed. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his father’s death—or hear the comforting rationalizations that were bound to follow. That it wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing he could have done. It wasn’t true. And it didn’t make him feel any better either.

  He sighed. What a mess this all was. If only he’d woken Trinity up when he and her grandfather had first returned to her mother’s house the night of the Reckoning. Everything would be different now. They’d have the egg. They’d be on their way to the volcano to destroy it. Mission practically accomplished.

  But he hadn’t. Mainly because she’d looked so exhausted. So dead to the world. And once again, the soft spot he had for her had botched his common sense. And so, instead of waking her and bringing her downstairs where he could keep an eye on her all night, he’d let her sleep alone. It wasn’t until he heard the banging on the rooftop a few hours later that he realized something was wrong. Unfortunately, by the time he’d reached her room, she was already on the back of his brother’s motorcycle, zooming into the night.

  God, he’d been such a fool. He’d had the egg. He’d had the girl. His whole mission practically wrapped up in a Christmas bow. And yet he’d screwed it all up, underestimated his brother, and let it all slip through his fingers.

  His father would be so disappointed.

  I’m sorry, Dad, he thought. I won’t let you down again.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the television, blaring some kind of news broadcast at top volume. Trinity’s grandpa, Connor realized, must be going a bit deaf.

  “Could you please turn that—” he started to beg, but his mouth snapped closed as his eyes caught the video on the screen: black-and-white surveillance tape of a small convenience store. Two very familiar people walking up to the cash register.

  Connor dove off the bed, joining Grandpa in front of the TV. He stared, mouth gaping. Could it really be?

  “Suspected terrorist Trinity Foxx was last seen at a Santa Rosa Circle K,” the announcer informed them. “She and her unidentified partner purchased food and drinks, and then took off in a green Ford pickup, according to witnesses. Anyone with information on the pair’s whereabouts should call the Crime Stoppers’ hotline. Police warn not to approach them; they are considered armed and dangerous.”

  Connor watched as the tape looped, his stomach swimming with nausea. On the screen, Trinity turned to his brother, poking him playfully in the ribs before setting her snacks down on the counter. The two of them started to laugh.

  “What are they doing?” her grandpa cried, furrowing his bushy gray eyebrows. “I thought you said he’d kidnapped her.” He turned to Connor, his eyes filled with accusation.

  Connor shrugged helplessly, still staring at the TV in horror. All this time he’d been so sure Trinity must have been tricked, taken against her will. But looking at the video made him wonder. His brother had always been charming—could he have convinced her somehow that he was out for her own best interests? That Connor was the bad guy, not him? Or was it the dragon bond itself? Poisoning her mind against him more and more each day. He shuddered at the thought.

  At least that explained why he’d lost her signal. He’d been following her spark, reaching out to her through the back door he’d created in her mind when he’d shown her the vision of the Scorch. But as of yesterday, he’d found himself at an impasse, her mind blocked against him. Caleb must have shown her how to shield herself, which would make it nearly impossible to find her.

  “Santa Rosa, New Mexico.” Connor glanced over to see Trinity’s grandpa consulting an old-fashioned paper map. The man looked up. “It’s not even fifty miles from here. Let’s head out.” He rose to his feet, his eyes shining with eager desperation.

  Connor sighed, feeling old and defeated. He wanted to tell the man it would do no good. That they could follow them to the ends of the earth, but they’d always remain one step behind as long she kept herself blocked to him. If she didn’t want to be found…

  “Are you coming?” her grandfather asked, hovering at the open door.

  He reluctantly rose to his feet, resigning himself to the fool’s mission. At least it would make her grandfather feel better. To feel like he was doing something instead of just sitting around uselessly, waiting for news.

  They’re quite a pair, he thought as he followed Trin’s guardian to his parked car. So devoted to one another. Ready to risk everything to keep one another safe. He tried to imagine what it must be like to have someone like that in his life. Someone who cared more about him than even the end of the world.

  Of course, his father had once. And he’d died because of it.

  He firmed his resolve. In the end, nothing had changed. His mission was still on, still vitally important to the survival of the world. And if Trinity didn’t believe him? If she refused to go along with the plan they’d made? Well, that made her his enemy. Just like his brother.

  Don’t give up on her, Connor.

  He started at the sudden thought slamming into his brain. No, not just a thought—a push. A powerful push. So strong that even he, with all his training, had to fight to keep it from lodging into his consciousness. He looked around, wondering where on Earth it could have come from. After all there were no—

  He stopped short, catching Trinity’s grandpa squeezing his eyes shut, as if he were in sudden pain.

  “Did you…um…say something?” Connor stammered, searching his deeply lined face.

  The old man’s eyes snapped back to the road, but not before Connor caught a flash of guilt cross his face.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered. “Now, are you ready to go or what?”

  But you do, Connor thought excitedly. You know exactly what I’m talking about.

  Aloud he said, “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Her grandfather grunted and pulled out of the parking lot, the car’s tires screeching as he turned onto the street. As they drove down the road, toward Trin’s last known whereabouts, the sharp push came again.

  She’s worth fighting for. She’s worth everything.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  If you’d asked Trinity what she thought Dracken Headquarters would look like, she probably would have guessed like something out of a sci-fi movie—deep in the desert with watchtowers and electric fences, maybe a few landmines littered along the way. Not to mention the requisite men with machine guns, high-tech security gates—all the stuff that was supposed to go along with any self-respecting top-secret military operation. So she was quite surprised when Caleb directed her to pull off the highway and into the parking lot of a seemingly abandoned shopping mall instead.

  “We’re here,” he announced, gesturing for her to stop the truck and put it into park. “Home sweet home at long last.”

  “Um.” She looked around doubtfully. “This is it? This is Dracken Headquarters?”

  The Nevada mall sprawled out before them had presumably seen better days. The store signs were crumbling, and colorful graffiti had been splashed over almost every available surface. Tall weeds poked defiantly from cracks in the pavement, and the sidewalks were lined with rusty shopping carts from days gone by.

  Caleb looked at her with piercing eyes. “Is something wrong?”

&nb
sp; Trinity shook her head. “Sorry, I guess I just didn’t expect the secret headquarters of a dragon-worshipping sect from the future to have a JCPenney.”

  He snorted. “The actual mall went bankrupt five years ago, princess, after a developer built an open-air shopping center a few miles down the road. The Dracken were able to scoop it up cheap. It’s actually the perfect home base if you think about it. Lots of space. Lots of bathrooms. They’ve spent the last two years converting it. The outside’s just to scare off the tourists. Wait till you see what’s beyond the front doors.”

  He shot her an excited grin; he’d been in a good mood all morning, becoming more and more animated the closer they got to their destination. As if he couldn’t wait to introduce her to his world and his friends. She, on the other hand, felt more than a little apprehensive about the impending meet-and-greet with the Dracken. Unfortunately she had little choice in the matter. While Caleb didn’t treat her as a prisoner, he also wasn’t about to let her go.

  They parked the car and headed into the mall’s main entrance, Caleb triggering some kind of special sensor at the door that pricked his finger and matched his DNA before unlocking and swinging open. As he gallantly suggested “ladies first,” Trin gathered her nerve and stepped into the belly of the beast.

  The two-story mall was dimly lit and more than a little dusty, the entryway caked with cobwebs and littered with debris. Just more props to scare away potential intruders, Trin wondered, or were the Dracken simply lousy housekeepers?

  At first glance, the place seemed deserted. At the same time, she got the uneasy feeling of being watched as their footsteps echoed down the hall—by a hundred pairs of unseen eyes. The whole thing was unnerving to say the least. Even more so when the doors behind them clanked shut with a booming crash, effectively sealing them in.