A Dream of Dragons Part 3

Printer-friendly version

Welcome to the Third and Final Part of A Dream of Dragons! Sorry for the slight delay due to re-editing and being ill. I hate being sick!

Disclaimer: This is fiction. All the characters and events portrayed here are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely accidental and unintentional   A big thanks goes out to Paula and Cathy for helping proof and generally make this readable. Another big thanks goes to Ariel who pre-read this. Any remaining errors, or mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

A Dream of Dragons
Final Chapter
3 of 3

By

grover

Dimitri and Octavia waited impatiently, as Gregory watched the recordings of their unhappy guest. His sister had been born deaf, and Gregory could not only sign, but read lips.

Mr. Hunter lived up to his promise of providing them with the recordings, but it was easy to determine that they had been edited. More to the point, all the sound was missing. Mr. Hunter seemed to forget that scientists are, by their very nature, puzzle solvers.

Gregory rewound a tad and watched a section over again. Finally he slid the translations to them. Reading over each other's shoulders, they quickly read the transcripts.

Young Gregory rubbing his tired eyes, “That is one pissed off girl.”

The two researchers looked up at him, questioning.

Picking up on that they didn't see it, Gregory explained, “Reading lips and sign rarely conveys emotional content. My sister taught me to look at body language and word choice, so you see it's not just the profanity, although she does use a few mild ones.”

“Look at how she stalks up to the camera, how stiff and focused she is. I'll bet a week's pay that she knows a lot more colorful metaphors than what she's using. She isn't just asking why she's being held here, she's spitting it out like venom,” the technician pointed out.

Octavia sighed, “Thank you Gregory, for your help. You know, of course, not to talk about this.”

Leaving the room, the young technician replied, “No problem Doc. I hope you two can work out a way for us to get back to our real work, and not this playing jail crap.”

Octavia looked at Dimitri, “This is insane. We know she is a sentient creature, and that idiot is treating her worse than I would a dog. The report I sent, was returned with a note, “They had confidence in how that damn fool was handling this 'situation.'”

Dimitri noted, when angry, her southern accent came to the fore. “I know. When I researched the security act, I found, that, since the anomaly was held responsible for Mr. Morgan's death, after he failed to appear after ten years, the ruling is; “Guilty, without a requirement for any type of trial”.

Octavia shook her head, “I knew my country had some twisted laws, but kill someone with an egg, and the chicken is guilty of murder?”

“It's not that simple. Since there wasn't any physical proof or evidence that she was hatched, Hunter is taking the stance that the anomaly simply altered forms, and that is covered under this law.” He explained.

“What brothers me the worst is the security on the outside. You would think they were getting ready to be invaded from some of the stuff I've seen. Look how little cooperation we're getting now. I believe that, as far as they are concerned, this project is over and they seem to be waiting for something, or someone, to happen to terminate the remains” He spoke sadly, gesturing at the winged girl on the monitor.

Octavia almost screamed, “This isn't right! She spent fourteen years inside the anomaly. Where did it come from? Was it really an egg? If so, what laid it? What could possibly come have came up those wonderful, complex designs we’ve seen? Moreover what other incredible secrets might be hidden within her?”

Dimitri said nothing, thought for a moment, and took a disk from his pocket, “Look at this and tell me what you think. I'll be back later.” He left her staring at the defiant girl demon, digitally frozen on the screen.

It took him several hours to get back to her, but even with testing interrupted, and perhaps even canceled, there was still past test information to be gone over in detail.

His reception was chilly upon returning to her office, “Why didn't you tell me?”

Dimitri tired and worn from stress, “Tell you what? Fifteen years ago a volcano in the Mediterranean blew up very mysteriously, leaving strange rainbows for sunsets for weeks afterward?”

“Or maybe, when those particles were analyzed, that impossibly, they suggested an organic origin, never mind that for it to be large enough to provide enough particles to cause said rainbows it would have to be so large it would make Godzilla look small?”

“How about, the anomaly landed within six hours of the eruption, but all of the other debris from the eruption didn't re-enter anywhere near where it did. Let's not forget our oh so considerate chief of security, who says that our demon girl is a monster and that the vanished island was named for a figure in Greek myth, said to be the Mother of all Monsters.” He finished. “We are scientists Octavia, but all I have are guesses. I'm sure Mr. Hunter knows how all of this ties together, but I have spent my life looking for answers for why a volcano didn't act like a volcano. I still don't know why.” Dimitri sighed.

“Not a Demon,” Octavia slid an opened book towards him.

With a puzzled look he sat upright and examined her offering, which showed a comparison of some sort between claws.

“A paleontologist was ridiculed, a couple of decades ago, when he suggested that dinosaurs had descendants among what most thought were creatures of myth, dragons. That is a close up picture of the Mighty Dragon, as he calls himself, a superhero in the Dallas Lone Stars Team.”

“Next to it is a velociraptor's sickle claw. As you can see, there are clear similarities between the two, but this is even more interesting.” She turned her monitor around for him to see.

There were two claws side by side again. While the comparison between the first picture was close, this one was nearly identical. After a moments study he recognized one of them as belonging to their guest. Dimitri raised a questioning eyebrow, “You're suggesting that our friend is a dragon?”

She nodded, “Gregory again,” she said fondly, “He had gotten this book as a present, as a child, and has lugged it around with him ever since. After translating for us this morning, he thought the wing structure looked similar, and found this to show me.”

Octavia put up the next picture, showing the wing of their guest. “Here is the picture he showed me, and it is close. Her wings are a bit different, but are clearly similar. According to the book's author, it is very like a pterodactyl's wing, and he might well have a point.”

“The difficulty lies in that there are so few pictures of them, that most people regard them as a hoax, or just some kind of a mutation. Add to the myth of Echidna, who was said to be winged and half snake, I think we have definitely linked our anomaly with some sort of very old creature, which is remembered mostly in myth.” Octavia rather proudly lectured.

Dimitri ran his hands though his thinning hair, examining her evidence and theories. None of these materials were in their data base, and no one had compared their guest's features with dinosaurs, although in afterthought, it should have been done. They had, instead, been barking up the wrong tree, as Americans say, by looking at demons and others with bat-like wings, not pterosaurs.

When one thinks of supernatural creatures, leather winged humanoids using magic, demons come mind before dragons. He seemed to recall stories where dragons could appear as humans, never one that was part way like their guest. A were-dragon he wondered half in jest?

“Alright, this does suggest at a mythical origin for the anomaly, and might explain why Mr. Hunter is so hostile to it if it is part of an old grudge. But if it is, that might also mean our security chief is a LOT more than he appears to be.” Dimitri relented.

“I tried getting in touch with this Mighty Dragon, but he dropped out of sight some years ago. An Internet search revealed he was seen a few months ago, helping someone in Mexico, but no one knows how to contact him, it seems.” she said wearily.

“For all we know that's what Hunter is waiting for, a relative to show up so the mighty hunter can bag a dragon. I wonder what the limit is?” her weariness turning to sarcasm.

Dimitri gave her a measuring glance, “I think there is more than a little truth in your statement, but that doesn't help us keep her alive. Our best strategy may be making the most optimistic projections we can, based on the potential gains from studying her.”

Octavia nodded, “We need to use our strength against his weakness. He just wants to destroy, but we're going to create. Perhaps we should be suggesting trying to gain her cooperation, after a few reports?”

She gave a tired snort, “We don't even have to fake anything. Whatever the anomaly transformed itself into, when it merged with her it was flexible enough to let her move freely, and hardy enough to resist those darts, as well as being light weight. Who ever designed, or birthed her, certainly has one hell of a research department!”


***

Jake wakened, crying. All of those endless dreams weren't just dreams, she knew now. She had thought that when the dragon had said their daughter needed his soul, that it was a figure of speech, but now she knew better.

She had become the daughter of which the dragon had spoken. Those memories of being taught about dragons and magic were real, at least in some way. There was just too much information for her to sort out.

Jake pulled her poncho tightly around herself. Her captors had left a blanket, so using one of her so sharp claws, she had cut it into a rough poncho like out of the Clint Eastwood westerns of her childhood.

Using one corner to wipe her tears, she took a deep breath and got up, to once more demand answers from her silent peeping Toms.

***

Mr. Hunter and Mr. Whyte carefully watched the recording of the monster crying. “So you believe this is the first sign that it is starting to break down?” Asked the one man Mr. Whyte would never dream of offending.

“Yes, indeed I do. I know that I've been champing at the bit wanting to proceed with my experiment, but this does look promising.” the mage explained. “It’s shields are amazing, but my combination of spells, and the robot's pincer, should enable us to secure one of the most dragon-like claws.”

“That alone would be priceless, but with the blanket gambit to gather any loose skin and other samples, that should keep our two scientists satisfied for the time being. There of course is risk, but the vault seems to be able to contain it,” the mage continued, confidently.

With his fingers steepled, his dark eyes burned, “As you say Mr. Whyte, the gains are tempting, but to date, the urine and fecal samples have yielded nothing useful. With that in mind I am not hopeful that the blanket ploy will be successful.”

“Particularly since the sensors hidden with the blanket stopped working, almost from the moment she handled it. The beast has grown very cagey, but the prize of a dragon's claw is such a temptation,” he mused.

The focus and the strength the small dark man possessed frightened the mage as few things ever did. Just once he tried to cast a spell upon Mr. Hunter, only to have his magic unravel like rotten string, and he awoke to a knife at his throat, with a promise of death if he attempted it again, along with a job offer. How could he refuse?

Coming to a decision, he continued. “We will wait two weeks, and if nothing invalidates your theories, then you may proceed. You may go Mr. Whyte.”

***

Jake had learned much in the last few days. She was beginning to make sense of that huge repository of information that was now in her head. As best as she could make out she had all this information, but it wasn't 'filed' in a fashion that let her use it easily.

The best way seemed to be doing something related, and the needed information would 'pop up.' Practical maybe, but it sucked for trying to plan an escape. It seemed that “MOM,” the dragon, was fond of 'on the job training' (OJT). Learning while doing was just fine, but Jake's natural inclinations were as a planner and thinker, and she was not the sort to just jump in and start 'doing.'

She still wasn't sure how she felt about what 'Mom the dragon' had done to her, but Jake was saving most of her displeasure for her captors. She didn't have a clue about what events led from 'his' dreaming trust with the dragon, to waking wherever 'here' was, as a ‘her’ in an egg, but was certain that being treated like an animal, or mega-super-villain, was unjustified.

Jake had learned where the actual control booth really was by faking a temper tantrum. During her morning 'bitch-out' session in front of the mirror, she had taken that nasty bucket of oatmeal and slung it across the room.

With her sharper eyes, and much better memory, she had marked where in the room the 'drips' had run at different rates. Unsurprisingly, evidence pointed to the area directly across from the mirror, which made sense, because using the mirror would give an unobstructed view of the entire room.

She had paid for her information, as her 'peeping Toms' had used the water-jets to clean her cell and, of course, on her as well. Jake had never done any acting, but had many a role-playing-game under her belt, that encouraged getting into a role.

She had done so with relish, cussing and making obscene gestures, until settling down wrapping her wings about herself.

***

Mr. Hunter sat in his office, quietly smoking a pipe, while the flickering of the TV provided the only light. Tobacco was a pleasure he seldom engaged in, with all the modern taboos against the habit.

He considered the evidence supporting the current theory that the monster was beginning to break, and become mentally unstable. Additionally, although he had boosted external security, the monstrosity that had begot the beast he held imprisoned, hadn't given any indications that it was still alive. For that matter, none but those two armchair scientists had any interest in saving its life.

Still you had to give it to them. They knew how to play the bureaucratic game. Their efforts had pressured him to make the creature available to them for study. Mr. Hunter could understand their drive to study, but his own philosophy had something in common with certain, so-called, Christians, “Kill them all and let God sort them out.” The thought of HIM having anything in common with Christians was humorous, but that didn't solve the current problem.

This wasn't the first time in his long life he had worked as an administrator, but it was not a role he enjoyed. He far preferred the part of for which he had named himself, “The Hunter.” It was only for a chance, not at just any monster, but the greatest one of all, had he even considered it.

He had used his contacts with the director's people to bug the geological research station on Angelo Echidna, so many years ago. The Dream-stones the great beast had sowed the planet with had mostly been dealt with by the bounty he'd put upon them, by placing an ad in several jeweler's trade magazines. It had been expensive, but he had little need for wealth after all.

Mr. Hunter had recognized the stone in the monster child’s navel of course, but it had held little interest for him. The Dragon's claw was another matter altogether.

Permitting Mr. Whyte's experiment to proceed would serve several goals. They could test the monster's arcane defenses and, if successful, gather physical samples, as well as secure the mystically valuable Dragon's claw.

Reaching forward, he signed the documents allowing the experiment to proceed, as the program he was watching reached his favorite part. The 20th century had brought many marvels, but cartoons were his favorites, as he watched Elmer Fudd caution the audience to be vewy, vewy quiet, he was hunting wabbits.

Mr. Hunter chuckled indeed, for he was hunting far larger game. When hunting dragons you had to be not only vewy, vewy quiet, but vewy, vewy careful.

***

Octavia had objected when she learned of the plan to de-claw the dragon-girl, as she thought of the girl. In her dealings with everyone else it was always the 'subject.' Honestly, she wasn't sure what upset her the most. The increasingly more emotional state of the subject, and the plan to cut off parts of her, or just plain old dislike for anything the so-called Mr. Whyte was a part of.

Dimitri had been uncharacteristically silent when they had read that so-called testing schedule. She knew he believed the dragon-girl's 'instability' was nothing more than an act, and Gregory thought so as well.

She wasn't sure, because the dragon-girl had been locked up and treated as an animal for almost six weeks, and for humans that would be enough to cause them to start to 'break.'

What she and Dimitri both agreed on was that it shameful that the 'subject' was being treated like an animal at all. The girl wasn't an animal, to have her will broken like an animal!

Octavia had managed to get permission for them to be in the viewing booth during the extraction. It seemed that Mr. Hunter and his cut-throats were to be at the airlock, where they expected any escape attempt to be made.

The booth even, if the Dragon-girl knew where it was at, had six inches of Glas-steel set inside a foot and a half of ferro-crete. It rivaled the defenses of World War Two battleships. Inside, the full time operator had the water jets, various lethal and non-lethal gases, and could electrify the chamber, for ferro-crete was conductive.

***

Jake woke. She couldn't honestly tell what alerted her, but after being in this pit for so long, every sound and tremor was known to her. The 'stopper' of her jail cell 'bottle' was carefully being lowered.

In the past weeks, a boom had swung out, dropping her food and water buckets, but this time she could tell it was taking longer. Without moving a muscle, she felt the excitement go though her that her chance to escape might finally be here.

She didn't think any Las Vegas bookie would take the odds against her. An escape attempt from what was almost certainly an ultra security facility, in an unknown location, with absolutely no resources, was NOT likely.

Part of the reason she was still sane was her improved memory. She could remember, word for word, anything she'd read, even before her change, and Jake had read a lot! She re-read many of her favorites in the peace of her own mind, and one of those had struck a chord.

Gordon Dickinson had a short story, “Danger Human,”
which was about a human, unjustifiably imprisoned by some aliens, as part of an experiment. The prisoner had waited for years until just the right chance had come about, and had escaped the inescapable.

Well, if humans were dangerous, just wait till they get a load of Homo-Draconis and, as for the odds, well as another storyteller had said, “Never tell me the odds!”

Jake felt a slight 'ripple' that she now knew was magic. It had a nasty little odor about it, as it tried to latch onto her and wiggle its way into one of her claws. Resisting an urge to twitch, she remembered one of the many lessons Mama Dragon had drilled her in, during the long dreaming.

It was still annoying to only have the knowledge in times of abject need, but she skillfully worked the spell to effectively contain the other's efforts. The more power the other mage pushed into it, the more the pressure would build, until it rebounded onto the caster. Well, in theory anyways, because Jake had never cast any type of spell before, except in 'simulations.'

Damn! it was hard to keep from giggling at that last thought, as she watched her 'bottle's' breaking point rise. It canna' hold captain, it's gonna' blow! Jake was watching so intensely, she jumped when something grabbed her only clothes!

Her eyes flew open, and her hand grabbed the offending paw that dared touch her sole garment. Jake wasn't surprised to find another of those damn robot things. She could see the trail of magic that led to the robot, like a cutoff that let the caster stay safe while casting his magic. Unbidden, another cantrip came to her, that would take care of that and she grinned like a wolf. ‘Oh, he isn't going to like this!’

With a blast of mystic power, the bottle 'broke,' and with a rush of mystical lights, it was returned to its sender. Jake leaped up upon Robbie Robot, to sever the cables leading to the 'stopper' above her.

With a metallic squeal, her wing claws parted the metal cable and, with a lithe swing, she landed beside Robbie. She'd hoped her 'peeping Toms' would provide something for her to throw, and it was time to give it back.

Picking up Robbie, Jake gave a leap, along with a mighty assisted flap of her wings and, like Michael Jordan dunking a goal, stuffed the robot into the 'stopper!' Landing lightly, she turned and ran at the mirror.

Somersaulting into the air to slam feet first into it with bone jarring force, Jake did a swimmer's kick off, sending her flying back across the room, where her best guess had placed the real window, with her wing claws fully extended.

She rammed into it with an echoing boom, as the six inch claws punched though whatever the hell this stuff was made of. With a muscle straining heave she carved a huge 'V' shape into it.

Repositioning her claws piton-like into the wall as anchors, Jake grasped the bottom of the torn 'V' with her hands and, using her legs, pulled upwards. A torrent from the 'peeping Tom's' water jets caught her, but anchored as she was, it was useless.

A gust of in rushing air let her know she was on the right track. The cell was kept at a lower air pressure than the outside, to ensure that if any gases were used on her, they wouldn't escape to the outside.

She was almost inside when the first electric shock hit her. Jake ignored it, and another, much larger one, zapped her. Half-surprised her heart hadn't stopped; she slipped outside her prison cell.

***

Dimitri’s disgust at the proceedings had grown geometrically. His and Octavia's efforts to locate another dragon-like creature had, so far, failed. They had made some headway in getting access to the subject, but not much.

Mr. Hunter had proven himself well able to fight on a bureaucratic level, for he had managed to make this amputation of the girl's claw, sound like he was acceding to their requests.

His first time in the observation booth made him wonder again who he was really working for. It was almost certainly funded by some branch of the US government as part of some 'black' program. Bank vaults were easier to get into than this place!

His sharp eyes, after taking in the spaceship like controls, looked out the window to the girl. Was she really a dragon-girl, like Octavia believed? What did dragons have to do with his old quest about what had happened at Echidna Angelo?

She was curled up into a ball, with her face hidden under her wings. Certain that she was deeply asleep; the technicians began lowering the 'air-lock.' Dimitri was less certain about anything concerning her.

From the very beginning, when studying the egg, they had been amazed at the nano-scale engineering. Once the egg had hatched, and presented them with something more familiar, everyone seemed to have forgotten just how advanced that structure had been.

He had reviewed the tapes of the hatching, and the egg wall had been less than a half centimeter thick. That thin shell had resisted every test they could throw at it. What more remarkable designs were reserved for the treasure that lay inside?

All they knew so far was that she was strong, fast, difficult to harm and immune to some types of gases. Of course, you had to add in that they knew for certain that magic was involved, and that her creators/parents might well be creatures from myth.

Chuckling at his own musings, Dimitri schooled himself to pay attention to the proceedings, as the sampling robot was lowered into the enclosure. Glancing at Octavia, he saw her focus was firmly riveted on the subject.

It was one of the qualities he loved in her. He had admitted that he’d had fallen for her quite some time ago, but only to himself. Realistically, he knew any romance was doomed to failure, for they were both committed to their careers, aside from her officially being his supervisor.

The robot was finally on the enclosure floor, and it began moving up to the sleeping girl. The busy chatter from the headsets they wore alerted them. Mr. Whyte was ready to proceed, and Dimitri could feel the tension increase as everyone tensed up.

He wasn't an expert on magic, but had read what was available, since the anomaly was suspected to be of a magical origin. This ritual by Mr. Whyte was to cause her to stay asleep, and separate painlessly one of the wing root claws.

They were told that the claw was selected because it would hold portions of bone marrow, but neither he nor Octavia believed that, since their researches had revealed that, among wizards, dragon claws were very valuable.

The stress eased when nothing happened, and Mr. Hunter ordered the robot operator to retrieve the sampling blanket. Dimitri thought it was just another example of Mr. Hunter's blindness that he never thought the girl’s first reaction to getting a blanket, was to make clothing out of it.

Her tailoring would make getting the blanket, which was designed to pick up any loose skin cells or hair, a little harder to retrieve. Dimitri wondered if Mr. Hunter's prejudice would be his undoing, but not today, it seemed.

The robot arm reached out to grab the blanket, and then the carefully planned session came apart, as the girl seemingly levitated straight up, and landed on top of the machine!

The umbilical cable that had lowered it into the cell whip-lashed wildly, as her claws slashed though it. Blindingly fast, she slipped off of the robot, and picked up the entire machine, just like she had that other robot, back when she first hatched.

In slow motion, Dimitri watched the security tech hand slap the water jet controls, but he was far too slow, as she flew/leaped astoundingly, the thirty feet straight up to the airlock and slammed the now mangled machine into it, jamming it open!

Letting herself fall, she landed, incongruously lightly, and turned sprinting for the mirrored wall. With an incredibly agile twist, she collided, feet first, with the mirror, and launched herself right at them!

Instinctively, he and Octavia ducked behind the control panel as, with a deafening boom, the girl rammed the glas-steel window! The entire panel rippled like a sheet in the wind, as two claws punched though the, six inch thick, armored window.

In shock, they watched the claws slam themselves down, meeting together, creating a 'V' like slash in the tough, transparent metal. Dimitri knew the pressure in the cell was kept lower, to make the use of gases easier, but the girl effortlessly pulled the gashed metal inward, overcoming the pressure difference, while tearing open the window, like a can opener.

Water was running in from the water jets, trying to dislodge the girl, and he heard Octavia yell, “NO!”

She grabbed the tech's hand, as he reached for the lethal gas. “You'll kill us too! The cell is breached. Use the electricity.”

Dimitri jumped backwards, away from the water pooling on the panel and floor as the first jolt hit, but the second jolt, conducted by the water to the main panel, shorted it out with a shower of sparks and burning wiring, as the lights went dark.

Blinking his eyes, as the emergency lights cut in, he jumped at the soft, southern accented voice, “I really do hate to interrupt you two love birds, but I'm in the middle of an escape, so would you mind, very much, pointing the way out please?”

Security techs were still steaming from their near electrocution, but one still reached for his sidearm, when the girl stopped him cold, with a growl, “Don't! I've already proved I can rip transparent aluminum apart with these,” she said, flexing her claws, “Do you really want to see what they can do to flesh and blood? Well, DO you?”

Slowly, the two techs tossed their weapons towards the girl where she caught and tossed them back into her vacated cell. She took a quick step over to where they cringed, and took their headsets and badges. The girl causally slipped on one, and crushed the other in her hand, like paper.

Confused by the lovebird comment, both he and Octavia blushed when they realized they were holding hands. Quickly they took their hands back, embarrassed, as the girl laughed softly.

Dimitri, still blushing, had many months of getting accustomed to Octavia's accent, but the girl's was different. What really got his attention though, was her color shifting hair. Well, it was optical properties from the volcano remains that got him involved in all this, to start with.

The hair didn't seem so much like hair, as very fine optical fibers, and he wondered, ‘why use such fibers for hair?’

Octavia numbly pointed at the fire evacuation placard by the door and, at the Dragon girl's direction, tossed her and Dimitri's radios into the gashed open cell.

“Hmm, I would love to stay chat with you, Doctors Washington and Mitsopoulos,” glancing down at their badges, “Because I remember you from when I woke up, but maybe some other time,” she said as she added their badges to her collection, and turned to the heavy sliding doors.

Before Octavia could say the doors were locked down, the Dragon-girl forced her wing claws into the seams. With a scream of tearing metal, the doors were ripped open. Octavia was astounded, for the girl was orders of magnitude times stronger than her size suggested she should be.

As the girl rushed out, she swore the girl yelled, “Elvis has left the building!”

Dimitri seemed dazed, and she was still in shock as well. She hadn't been sure the surge would knock out the control room, but she had hoped. The odds were still against the dragon-girl making it out, but now she had a chance, no matter how slim.

***

Cursing in a language four thousand years dead, Hunter hurried down the hallway. His uniform was splattered with blood from Mr. Whyte's spectacularly failed magics, as all four of his limbs had spontaneously disconnected themselves from his body.

Rather fortunately for Mr. Whyte, trouble had been anticipated, and a medic was nearby, although just how much he would be able to do in such an extreme situation, was in doubt.

Saladin and Mr. Akna were close behind him, and the busy headset told him the Smith twins and Mr. Sato were at the only exit. Once again, the monster had reached out to strike one of his, and he darkly swore that it would be the last.

***

Jake ran down the hallway to the stairway revealed by the quickly memorized exit placard, while the flashes of yellow and red alarm lights kept time with the klaxon. She really did wish she'd had time to discuss a few things with Doctor Octavia Washington.

At least she knew a little more about where she was, Orion Research Labs. She had read that off their badges, for all the good that did her. She had gotten the idea of taking their headsets from that Bruce Willis movie, but the keycards were familiar from her military intelligence days.

As far as she could tell from her borrowed radio, the bad guys still didn't know the details of her escape, but were taking precautions of securing the facility, before moving to her cell. The stairway was guarded, and the elevators locked down.

With haste Jake jumped up, with her feet acting like springs, slapping down every camera she could find, but taking childish pleasure in how they shattered. Repeating her 'Jaws of Life' imitation, she used her claws to not only force the elevator doors open, but to rip it ‘just so’, so that last camera got trashed.

Turning, she used the Doc's keycard to open the stairway. With half-flight assisted leaps, she skipped the steps going from landing to landing. Just six giant leaps carried her three stories up to the first doorway.

“Damn!” she swore, seeing the face looking at her though the small window of mesh reinforced glass. Knowing she had a fight coming, a thought came to her. 'Who says you can't learn anything from popular media? Clint Eastwood in “Thunderbolt and Lightfoot” said the doors were always tough, but not so the walls.'

***

Mr. Sato narrowed his eyes focused on the stairway door, when the wall exploded! One of his security detachment was already down, having the ill luck of standing next to the wall. The Smiths were out of position, drawn off by the cameras monitoring the elevators, so it was just him.

His other four men cut loose with a hail of 9mm from their MP5's, which the monster completely ignored, as IT flew up and kicked two of them in the chests, slamming them backwards, down the hallway, while grabbing the other two and effortlessly tossing them down the stairs though the hole in the wall.

He charged, crushing IT against a heavy concrete pillar. Smiling grimly, he threw his not inconsiderable weight against her again, causing plaster to rain down upon them.

***

Where the hell had Odd-Job here come from? Jake had pretty well figured she was mostly bulletproof, but getting shot at was not fun at all. Then Wham! she got thrown into that pillar, but damn didn't he move fast!

So here she was again, trapped against another wall. A silly thought made her laugh, and Jake took pleasure from the look on Odd-Job's face. ‘How I escaped from an ultra security prison by watching TV!’

Taking her inspiration from professional wrestling, she reared her head back and head butted him! Seeing no reaction, she slammed her head into his again and again. After the fourth time, she stopped, watching his eyes cross themselves. Pushing him off of her, 'Damn he was a big'un!'

Squirming out between the unconscious Odd-Job and the pillar she cursed, 'Why couldn't mama have mademe taller? But nooo!' Jake moaned, as she mentally consulted her map and ran for freedom. No Flacking way was she going back into that hole!

She was running past offices, and some sort of laboratory doors now and, just maybe, she had chance to get free! Up ahead was another set of those Star Wars Blast doors. Skidding to a stop, Jake could see going though the wall on this one was out of the question, because the sliding doors extended past the door frame into the concrete wall.

Her purloined radio told her they had found out her trick with the elevator, and her time was ticking away. She couldn't see a way around it, so it was going to have to be the old fashioned way, though it.

Slamming her claws into the door seals, Jake exerted her strength, but was dismayed to see the metal start to give before the damn door. Alright, damn it if was going to be that way!

Bracing herself she started carving a hole though the door. Pounding footsteps behind her forced the issue! Grabbing the ragged edges of her hole with hands and wing claws, Jake slammed her feet into what she hoped was the last few inches of the door.

The resounding echo shook her teeth, but felt a satisfying give in the door. She was NOT! going BACK! in that HOLE! Punctuating with every word with a kick, and thankfully, it gave!

Fearing a welcoming committee on the other side, Jake used her arms to throw herself feet first into the room, rolling. Greeting her was the roar of gunfire! She dodged madly, hell these guys weren't using 9mm, she realized, as the thunder of massed 12 gauge shotguns, throwing thumb sized deer slugs, ripped the foyer apart!

Jake ran into the mass of guards and explosively spread her twelve feet wings. Knocked sprawling, they stopped shooting, buying her some time. Using every once of speed she had, she took off running for the promised sunlight, coming from the far end of the large entranceway.

Almost there, she silently repeated her mantra, almost there. Jake felt like screaming her frustration as two guys stepped from behind columns, wearing those foam gun things!

Throwing herself to the floor, she skidded underneath one squirt of that stuff, but the other man was made of sterner steel as he adjusted and began to cover her with it. She threw out her wings to shield herself, as the gunk began to expand.

She wasn't going back into that HOLE! Extending her finger claws, she dug into the polished floor. Her radio had been torn away, and with the dampening effect of the slimy foam, she didn't have a clue what was happening around her.

Jake despaired at first at the small chips she was making, but soon had a hand sized hole where she started ripping chunks of the floor up. Thankfully her wings had kept the foam from getting between her and the floor.

Finally her hand found what she'd been looking for, rebar! Grasping the reinforcing metal, and sliding her legs under her, she heaved! With a loud crack, the section of floor gave and she 'pushed' it towards where her photographic memory told her attackers were.

Shaking her hair free of odd blobs of foam, Jake stood. She'd gotten one of the Scrubbing Bubble guys, but the other hesitated a hair too long, as she bounced a fist sized fragment of floor off his helmet. Half-running, half-sliding on the foam slick floor, she punched in the side of his tank with one of her thumb claws.

He jetted away from her, as the escaping pressurized contents shot out. Whirling about, he left a trail of foam behind him. Checking on her other Bubble guy, she found that he wasn't moving, trapped under that piece of floor. She used a pillar to scrap off some of the foam, but got a face full of plaster as one of her shotgun armed pursuers missed.

'Shit!' Ducking, Jake turned and ran again for the way out, as the guards’ gunfire kept her dancing nimbly, decorative planters and light fixtures exploding all about her. She'd been hoping there would be just simple glass doors for her to crash though, but no, that would be too easy.

The ceiling of this damn place must be near sixty feet with a glassed in front. The lower ten feet had some sort of shutters that were now closed. Jake had no doubt that, after ripping though that blast door, she could make short work of that glass and metal, but it would take time that would let everyone catch up to her, wincing as another near miss showered her with debris.

That wasn't a good idea though, for while she seemed mostly bulletproof, Jake was in no hurry to find out just how bulletproof. If that wasn't enough, they might have something else like those foam guns, that could imprison her again.

Well the upper glassed in area above the doors wasn't shuttered, so it still looked like plan “A”, with a few changes. Charge through the glass, she decided, leaping high above the reinforced doors.

***

Mr. Hunter and his chosen huntsmen rushed to the sound of the guns. Covering the distance in the lope he had learned from Nubian archers an eon ago, Mr. Hunter surveyed the damage of the beast's rampage. Several of his men were hurt, but none mortally.

The once regal lobby, designed to impress visitors and guests, lay in ruins from the gunfire and the mounds of restraining foam. The stench and smoke from the battle lay heavy, as the ventilators were overloaded or jammed by the foam.

Assessing the damage in a glance, Mr. Hunter rushed past the glaring gash where the monster had torn up the floor. The ease with which it had broached the security lockout proved that he was correct to order lethal force to stop it. It mustn't be allowed to escape!

At the charge, his party reached the entrance, just as IT slammed into the armored glass panes. Seeing the dazed beast grab a support for balance, a grim line appeared on his face that could only be called a smile by another predator.

“Mr. Akna, if you please. Saladin, gun,” Hunter’s clipped voice ordered.

Nodding, the trim Inuit hunter, with an economy of motion, skipped forward, gathering energy and then, with precise timing, released it, sending his harpoon, which had felled the mightiest beasts of his home, out with its message of death.

Standing at his side, Saladin opened his burden, removing the long double barreled weapon from its silk and rosewood case and snapping the action open. Hunter reached for his customized weapon, even as his right hand slipped a pair of salt shaker sized shells into its breach. Long practice shut it, as he smoothly brought the custom, twenty pound rifle to his shoulder.

***

Jake screamed as something ripped into her wing! She slipped from her precarious perch and bit back another scream, as her weight dragged at her wound. Like a butterfly pinned by one wing, she fluttered helplessly, trying to find some way to free herself.

Pieces of exploding glass smashed into her face and chest, followed by a deafening boom! Twisting to find the cause, “Oh give me a flacking break!”

Jake recognized the man that fired at her, as the one with the hate filled eyes, but armed with what could only be a 600 Nitro Express Elephant gun. There were bigger rifles on the market, but she didn't think they would have the swirl of enchantments and magics this one had about it. “A Magical Elephant Gun!!??”

That last shot had almost hit her, dead center in the chest and she knew he had another shot remaining, with the doubled barreled weapon. Ignoring the pain, Jake pulled herself up as Mr. Angry Eyes fired again. Time slowed as 900 grains of lovingly crafted, enchanted metal thundered towards her.

Jake's mage sight could see the deadly enchantments that were cast upon it, and wondered how the first had missed. A cold shiver washed over her as she awkwardly grasped the spear that pinned her wing, and tossed it away.

Desperately moving aside, time suddenly sped back up and the window support frame shattered as the heavy bullet, meant to stop the world's deadliest charging beasts, crushed it. The armored window pane, weakened by not one, but two Titanic blows, shattered.

Jake slammed her shoulder against the last obstacle keeping her from freedom. Scent laden, fresh air struck her face and, with a smile she threw herself skyward, and spread her wings.

***

Without expression, Mr. Hunter passed his weapon back to Saladin, “Activate the air defenses and patch me through to NORAD.” He ordered. Crunching debris under his boots he turned and departed for the security control office.

***

Unsteadily, Jake flew, trying to gain altitude as fast as she could. Her wing still throbbed from that damn spear, but she was flying!

There were some guys shooting at her from the ground, but no one had come close yet. It did worry her that there were a lot of them, as well as Hummers with pintle weapon mounts, as streams of tracer rounds searched for her.

Looking back at the three-story building that had been her prison, it was like any other office building. To the south was a city or town, but the north seemed undeveloped, and was her best bet, for she needed some time to examine herself.

She didn't seem to be bleeding, but it sure as hell did hurt, and her make-shift poncho was in tatters. An urge to fly higher was nearly overwhelming, despite her common sense that said all she was doing was exposing herself to more gunfire.

***

Unseen below her, a metal shed on a nearby roof collapsed. Swiveling smoothly, the hidden gun locked on its contact. The Land Based Phalanx System (LBPS) was meant to be used for defense against mortars and other artillery, but its targeting system had no trouble tracking the evasive flight of the escapee.

Jane Smith hit the door to the control room at a full run. Startled, the technicians looked up, as she barked, “Do you have a target lock on it?”

Intimidated, the young sergeant replied, “Yes Ma'am, we have a solid Forward Looking Infra-Red (FLIR) lock.

With a cold smile, “Engage the target.” Jane Smith ordered. 'No one hurts my brother, and I owe that little freak some payback.'

With a gulp he replied, “Yes Ma'am, engaging target now,” as he lifted the red cover and keyed the switch.

The six barreled gatling gun fired a burst of its 20mm, high explosive, incendiary tracers at 5000 rounds a minute. Like swatting flies with a flamethrower, the contact was smashed by stream of metal fire.

The burst lasted just a few seconds but that was enough to send hundreds of deadly shells skyward. Looking like a science fiction laser beam, the stream of 20mm shells exploded, enveloping the contact in a bee hive of high velocity, exploding shell fragments and incendiaries, burning at thousands of degrees F.

***

Jake's world turned red with pain, and she fell to the ground, paralyzed by more pain than she had ever felt before in either of her lives. It was like a pit of fire that consumed her and, half insane with it, she staggered back to her feet.

It was as if her anger and pain had gathered, burning in her gut and now demanded release. She could feel it rising from within herself, and half choking and gagging, it escaped her in a fiery, vomited ball of primal fire.

The eye-searing ball of cascading light erupted from her and flashed to the gun that had shot her. It enveloped the LBPS with a brilliant explosion that shook the ground and was followed by other smaller ones, as its ammunition cooked off.


***

Shocked everyone snatched at their consoles as the building rocked! Staring at the ball of fire rising from where the LBPS used to be, the sergeant spoke in the silent room, “I think we made her mad.”

Just as stunned as everyone else, Jane Smith fought to overcome her shock. “Get the RPVs (Remote Pilot Vehicles) launched now!” Repeating herself to the motionless room, she screamed, “Launch the RPVs! Damn you!”

Shaken into action, the civilian and military technicians got to work, while wondering just what they had gotten themselves into working for Orion Labs, as the remaining cameras followed the rapidly ascending creature.

***

Jake flew, climbing higher and higher, as her very skin seemed to burn from her injuries. Large areas of her wings and body were a shiny, scintillating rainbow, as if made of molten silver. Overwhelmed by the agony, she lost herself to the instinct that drove her to climb higher.

There was nothing left of her roughly tailored poncho, and it was very hard to think past the burning sensations from the silvery spots where she had been hurt the worst. Cyber-punk authors William Gibson and Walter Jon Williams had written about sub-dermal armor, which was implanted either into, or underneath, the skin. That is what the silver places seemed to be, but if so, just what in the hell was she; dragon, human, cyborg or something else?

***

Behind and beneath her, two small RPV's flew where their cameras could keep her in sight. Looking like radio controlled airplanes used by hobbyists for decades, these were a different breed altogether, built to be hard to see and hear.

Equipped with an assortment of sensors and cameras, they were meant to be the eyes of the military and police. Mr. Hunter’s own hard eyes watched the monster's flight with its long webbed toes extended to provide a tail-like control surface.

Aircraft were on the way to intercept, but were still minutes away, but it was only moving about 90 mph, which was rather fast for a flying creature in level flight with muscles. Even at the rate it was climbing it would still be only about 20,000 feet if it continued. With the GPS (Global Positioning System) on the RPV, the beast couldn't outrun them and they would be able to guide the interceptors right to it.

That was really brothering Mr. Hunter, for the monster had done very few stupid things, so far, so what was its purpose? He admitted to himself that he had grossly underestimated the monster. It had never occurred to him that the beast's magical shields would have prevented his magicked bullets from seeking the monster, like the Americans boasted 'smart' missiles.

Despite knowing how dangerous the fiend was, the difficulty of this hunt thrilled him. For many long years it seemed that he was only half alive, except when his own life was endangered. He had spent decades in the Earth's remotest regions, risking all, until the advent of the 20th century, when many of mankind's most dangerous foes had surfaced; Vampires, demons, godlings and others, that either had been long asleep, or hiding amongst their prey.

The director’s predecessors had found him, and the challenge of the hunt was too much for him to resist. For the first time in centuries he faced foes worthy of his salt, and he felt truly alive. Years had passed, but he had never forgotten the greatest monster of them all. Hidden within the bowels of the earth itself, like the poisonous worm within an apple, he knew she was bidding her time to strike at the sons of men again.

He watched the colored lights indicating the Air Forces interceptors inching toward his prey. Clenching his fists, a petty part of him wanted to be in on the kill, but he knew too well that all that mattered was killing the beast, for he was well aware of just how much devastation one of ITS brood could harvest.

The interceptors carried the latest Air to Air Missiles (AAM), and getting NORAD to respond so promptly had cost Mr. Hunter more favors than he wanted to count. It was his responsibility to prevent the disaster the monster would unleash. He had failed before out of pride, but not this time.

“Sir we're having a problem,” the sergeant at the RPV controls reported.

Hunter, fighting the temptation to wince, closed his eyes, “Tell me.”

“There is some sort of transmission interference. It started about a minute ago but it is getting worse” the sergeant reported.

“Could the contact be jamming your transmission?” Mr. Hunter asked.

The sergeant paused trying to wrap his mind around the idea, that the winged girl he'd been following with his RPVs was carrying jamming equipment. “No sir. Jamming is usually a very strong signal. This is more like background interference, but stronger.”

Hunter snapped out, “Any changes to the target's course and speed, and how soon till intercept?”

“Target speed and course remains constant. Approximately five minutes till extreme range for weapons free,” the sergeant relayed.

Making up his mind, Mr. Hunter ordered, “Pull the RPV with the most fuel remaining back to just within visual range, but maintain close contact with the other.”

***

Jake, driven by the urge to fly ever higher, was struggling with the unfamiliar sensations of muscles she had never used before, as well as the renewed feelings from her new body. The blinding pain had begun to fade, but she was in near overload from all that had happened to her.

The play of skin and exertion, turned extraordinarily sensitive from her injuries and ordeal were fatiguing. The memories of Physical Training (PT) in the service returned, of dragging himself back after a long run, more on momentum than anything else.

She didn't know why she was driven to seek the heavens, but knew somehow that she had almost made it to her goal. It was if she could just about touch something that couldn't be touched, like the wind. A whisper of touch that was smooth as the finest silk, but powerful as a rushing river in flood.

Then suddenly, like dunking her head in icy water, she grasped the untouchable. Everything turned white and she was being burned and frozen alive, impossibly at the same time. Unable to breathe, she held out for as long as she could, before releasing the, oh-so-cold, icy phantom.

Exhausted, it slipped from her tenuous grasp and suddenly, she was back in the real world. It was all she could do to hold her wings out to glide. Even with her fatigue dulled senses, she saw mountains where just a breath before there had been none! Too weary to wonder how she had ended up wherever here was, Jake had to rest. Letting her wings carry her in a glide, she gently made for a river she saw below her. Tired, and hurt, she let the winds bear her to the wilderness and river below.

***

The room went silent as, in a flash of light, the nearer RPV signal died and began to flutter to the ground, watched by its sister.

Mr. Hunter's presence and displeasure was a near psychical thing as he snapped, “What happened?”

Swallowing the past the lump in his throat, the sergeant reported, “She’s gone! Just before we lost the RPV, I got a burst of interference, somewhat like from sunspots, and then she just vanished.

Turning his basilisk gaze upon the young man, Mr. Hunter asked “Could the monster have gone invisible?”

Thinking, 'How in the hell would I know? I'm a technician, not a magician,' a thought came to him. “I don't think so Sir.” rewinding the footage from the remaining RPV he cued up what he was looking at, as Mr. Hunter hovered over his shoulder.

“See here Sir, as RPV One lost its data-link. Look at how it pitches up here and began to flutter. That's a sign of turbulence. I don't know how, but I'm guessing she somehow accelerated very fast. Recovering the downed RPV should give some idea as to what caused it to fail.”

“Signal the interceptors to return to base, and use the remaining RPV to ensure the recovery of the damaged one. Run a copy of your tapes and pass them to the researchers. Maybe they can tell us what just happened,” Mr. Hunter ordered. “I'll be in my office” and he turned and left.

The young sergeant released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, along the rest of the room. He began to gather his share of the recordings of what just happened, but the entire thing made him uneasy.

His own little brother was a mutant, and to see one who was being treated like a hardened criminal made him ill. He'd even done a search to see if she was wanted for anything, but no one matching her description was in the data-base. Not certain of what he could do, if anything, he did keep a copy of the security footage.

***

Jake stumbled to a landing on the sandy bank of the river. She fell to her knees, weak with exhaustion. From what she could see from the air, this was a very remote area, but she did see a road a couple of miles away, near what she thought might be a fire tower.

Crawling to the edge of the bank, even the ice cold water didn't keep her from splashing it into her face. Taking a chance on the water, Jake cupped her hands and drank deeply. That swill from that damn pit hadn't made her ill, so she seemed to have a healthy constitution.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, but the water revitalized her. Feeling a little more human, Jake took in her surroundings. It seemed to be early spring, from the few new growth greens she saw. The question now was, where? This could be anywhere from Alaska, to China. She took in a deep breath, and reveled in the freedom that was so bone deep, it was as if her very pores were breathing in with her. Letting it out gave her a sense of a great burden being removed.

The problem now, however was, she was hungry, and from what she could see, it was too early for berries. Her childhood, spent in the rural south, had taught her much about living off the land, but this was a different kind of forest from the ones of her youth.

Her best bet seemed to be checking out that fire tower. She could still hunt for berries and, if worse came to worse, she was well equipped to hunt the old fashioned way, with tooth and claw. It would be nice to avoid eating raw meat though.

Jake was pretty sure that, somewhere in her vast inaccessible memory, there was a simple fire starting spell, but so far all the only fire she'd made was when she had spit up that flaming hairball, whatever-it-was, that had blown that phalanx gun to hell. That was ‘Nice for fireworks but not so much for cooking.’

Besides, she'd lost what little clothing she had in her escape and her bare nipples were making themselves uncomfortably known in the cool air. Tired, hungry, and naked as the day she was hatched, she began walking. She was free, and for now that was more than enough.

***

Together Dimitri and Octavia, with his arm around her shoulders, slowly walked out through the devastated lobby. Always the scientist, he took in every detail of the battle’s ruins. The two of them had deliberately taken the same route the Dragon-girl had taken during her escape. They had taken note of the shattered cameras, sundered doors, and the wall and blast door that had, very literally, been clawed though.

Hunter’s security people had obviously put up a fight, as the strong smell of gunfire still lingering in the air attested to, but the girl had not been stopped. The entranceway’s armored glass panels lay upon the ground where she had broken free, and taken flight for the first time.

A part of him really wished he could have been there to see her fly free, he thought, as he looked up at the brightening morning sky. Dimitri sighed to himself. For 15 years he had been chasing the mystery of Angelo Echidna’s eruption. Now it seemed the answer had grown wings and flown away.

Looking down at the woman at his side, he realized that as consuming as his quest had been, perhaps there were answers to other questions yet to be asked, that were more important. Her eyes met his and he knew that this was just like 15 years before, when his life had forever changed. His desire to know then had altered the path of his fate. Dimitri Mitsopoulos recognized that, once again his destiny had hung a left turn.

Taking his arm from her shoulder, he silently offered her his hand. With a smile she took it, as they both turned their wondering eyes skyward, as the sun rose on new day.

The End

up
153 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Endings and beginnings?

I certainly hope to see more of this adventure and this is only the end of book 1.

Huggles,

Winnie

Huggles,

Winnie
Winnie_small.jpg

Stunning

Stunning writing of the highest quality, not just crammed full of action and excitement but also with complex, well crafted characters and fascinating details. Bravo!

Hope we get to see more of Jake in the future.

Pleione

Wonderful.

I, too, hope to see more of Jake in the future. I'm sure Hunter won't give up his obsession for killing her, or that Dimitri and Octavia will give up on their curiosity about the 'dragon girl'. There is a lot more story waiting if you decide to write it. I certainly hope you do.

Exhausted but Happy

terrynaut's picture

I just finished reading part 3. Woo hoo! What a wild romp! I loved the action in this, and I loved Jake's determination. Yeah!

With my Footsteps story, I purposely didn't explain everything, but I also didn't leave much left for a sequel. This story is different though. It begs for a sequel. I hope you consider writing it. It's there, waiting for you.

Thanks very much for this. I'll be dreaming about dragon girls now. I'll be asleep with a smile on my face, dreaming about being a dragon girl. :)

- Terry

Oh Em Eff Gee Dot Dot Dot

There's only one thing stopping me from declaring this the best story ever. And it's that it's too short! Fix please! Kthxbai.

~ Compulsive online gamer, supernerd, and geek at your service ~

Dream of Dragons

A heartfelt thanks to everyone who has read and or commented! This story has been hanging around for a while and I'm glad folks has as a good of time reading it as I did writing it. I am working on a sequel but if it took as long as the first, fair warning it's going to be a while!

Thanks all!!! :)

hugs!

grover

I just reread this story

I just reread this story again, and it's just as good as the first few times. I'm going to keep waiting until you're able to finish this story. I'm sure the ending will be worth it!

Thanks!

Thank you Brian

I do have more in the works, but it is currently inactive. Some day I will finish this one.
hugs
Grover

Please Continue the Story

This was a wonderful beginning. You kept us glued to the story all the way through. There are so many opportunities here for Jake, Dimitri and Octavia, and the comupance of the Hunter. He may have been hunting for centuries but now he should be come the prey.

Much Love,

Valerie R

Much Love,

Valerie R

A Sequal

Just a friendly reminder . . . a sequel to this great story would be a wonderful thing and, of course, a challenge given the creative quality that set the story in motion.

I just finished reading this wonderful story for the second time

And it was every bit as enjoyable as it was the first time. A Dream Of Dragons is one of my favorite stories here on BCTS.Its been several years now since you firist wrote this wonderful story, but you still haven't gotten around to writting the sequal that you had said your were working on. I hope and pray that your muse will give you the inspriation that you need to write the long awaited sequal. Please, please write the sequal and post it soon. Your fans are waiting Grover.

Hugs,
Tamara Jeanne

Continue?

Bob Zegers's picture

I've just read these parts of this story. I like it.
Hopefully the story continues soon, am looking forward to it.

Weldone so far!

Enjoy everything to the fullest.

Fan-tastic

Podracer's picture

Thanks Grover, that was quite a ride, worthy of any modern action movie. I too hope to find another tale of this smashing young lady (yes it was intended) turns up.
Who knows, 2009? I might be lucky by now in 2013. Catch you later.

"Reach for the sun."

An Awesome Beginning

Drakira's picture

This has definitely been an awesome beginning to Jake's tale. And I think that she may run into those two scientists again at one point. Are you still working on that sequel? I hope so, since you've only whetted my appetite for more.

Drakira

She Went....

>> Everything turned white and she was being burned and frozen alive, impossibly at the same time. <<

!!! BETWEEN !!!

Burn the thread!

Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee

Wondeful!

So much.. Packed into but 3 chapters!

alissa

Sequel?

Would love to see more of Jake and her adventures post her escape.