CHAPTER 7

As I got dressed they waited outside. They were trying to argue in hushed tones but I could still hear them clearly. They’d taken the dog with them.

Seabee had given me a pair of mismatched socks, forest-green cargo pants, a black denim jacket, and a generic fire department t-shirt with a Maltese cross. All of it was too big for me but the boots weren’t too bad. I’d probably get blisters on the back of my heels but it was better than losing a foot to frostbite.

“Merv wanted to smash the tracker with a hammer,” I could hear Seabee say on the other side of the door. “Sure as hell glad she didn’t. That would mark us as the final location for that tank.”

“So we should send the tracker somewhere else, keep us off the map.”

“Yeah, that’s my thinking.”

“Okay,” Bethany said. “Then how do we do that?”

“If I was an asshole–”

“You are an asshole.”

Seabee groaned. “Well, if I was a real asshole, I’d send the kid down the road with the tracker, but there’s no way he’d get far enough fast enough. Not on foot.”

“You could always give him the tank back,” Bethany said.

Now that was an idea. I could thank Seabee for the clothes and the unwelcome but valuable information about Peoria, then be on my way somewhere else.

“I’m going to have to take him,” Seabee said.

“Absolutely not!” Bethany was struggling to keep her voice low. “We’re already deeper into this than we should be.”

“In for a penny…”

“Why is it every time some chance to be a hero comes along, you have to run right into it? It’s not your job or your problem. This town is your responsibility.”

“And that’s why I’m going to do what I have to so this town remains right where it is. Look, I can drive him someplace far enough to avoid you all getting spotted, but close enough I can be back by tonight.”

“I’m all for getting that tracker out of here,” Bethany said, “but there’s no reason we have to take boy wonder anywhere. I feel bad for him. I do. Those were real tears he was crying in there. But my gut says he’s here for information. Only he got some he wasn’t expecting. We should keep him locked up before he runs back and tells them all. He’s got no family any more. Where else would he go?”

That was something I hadn’t had the time to consider. I had nowhere to go.

“They can’t all be assholes,” Seabee said.

“Since when have you ever heard of any of them growing a conscience and ditching their platoon?” Bethany asked. “You don’t really trust him, do you?”

There was a beat of silence.

“Seriously?” Bethany said. “He’s probably got the Army a mile out and closing in.”

“I don’t get that sense from him,” Seabee said. “He looks like a dumb kid that got wrapped up in some shit and stumbled out of it onto our doorstep. The Army doesn’t know about us. But they will if you keep slowing me down with this bullshit.”

Rocks were kicked across the ground. “He was talking about smoke eaters. Said he knows all about them. Looks up to them like they’re heroes from old fairy tales. Said he was accused of being one.”

“Yeah,” Seabee said. “He told me about why he ran off. Didn’t know he was a self-proclaimed expert.”

Now that was just unfair. I never claimed to be an expert.

“Don’t you think it’s fishy that an Army private shows up out of nowhere and starts pulling on our heartstrings? He’s playing the sympathy card. But take sympathy out of it. Think about it for a second. He says he was on his way to a city that got torched. Now everyone will feel sorry for him. Welcome him with open arms. ‘Oh, how horrible you almost got killed for being a smoke eater!’

“Soon enough someone in town will admit they’re a smoke eater, too. Share a cup of Merv’s shitty booze with him and chat it up about the good old days.

“Then boom. Army shows up to cart off the smoky and the rest of us are punished and put on the itinerary for their supply collection. Only problem is he didn’t plan on us finding that tracking device.”

Damn. If it wasn’t so far-fetched I would have been impressed. That would have been the smartest and most devious way for a smoke eater hunter to go about it. But the Army wasn’t that calculated. And she was making it sound like they had something to worry about. She made it sound like a smoke eater was living in their town.

Was there?

A real-life smoke eater? No. No way. Bethany had to be embellishing. She was just concocting a scheme that neither I nor the Army had even thought of.

The way it was looking, I’d be lucky if I was forced out of town on both legs and not tossed out on my head.

“You come up with that grand scheme all by yourself?” Seabee asked.

Bethany sighed. “I can see it in your face. You haven’t changed your mind one damn bit.”

“When have I ever changed my mind once I’ve set it?”

“Oh my God! Could you be a more typical geezer?”

“I can add prunes and Geritol to the scavenging list.”

“Dad.” Bethany’s voice went softer, sounded like she was about to cry, “I’m serious. I’ve heard the stories. If they find you, they’ll send you to that camp in Ohio. They’ll cut you open and stick you with wires and needles. You were born to fight dragons, but you have a shitty sense about people.”

Wait. What?

Bethany was saying something about how she’d already lost her mom and couldn’t lose her dad, too, but I couldn’t contain myself any more. I pushed through the door and stared at Seabee in awe. “You’re a smoke eater?”

Kenji ran toward me, did circles around my ankles while barking, and ran back to sit beside Seabee.

Bethany flipped her rifle around and pointed it at me. “Stay where you are. I’ll shove that tracker up your ass and toss you into Lake Michigan.”

I stretched my hands as high above my head as they would reach.

“Calm down,” Seabee said. He put his hand to the barrel of Bethany’s rifle and moved it toward the sky, slowly.

She let him.

The old man turned to me. “How long have you been listening?”

“Um.” I bit my lower lip. “The whole time, I guess.”

“See?” Bethany said. “He’s a spy.”

“I’m not a spy,” I said. “I’m not here on some crazy mission. I’m not with the stupid Army anymore. I tried to do the right thing yesterday and all it did was take what little I had and rip it away. All I wanted to do was get home. I don’t know what I have to do to prove it to you.”

She glared at me. “So your people thought you were a smoke eater, huh? Why don’t we test it ourselves? We can throw you in a box and fill it with smoke. Or we can just roll you over a fire like a kebab.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Seabee said. “We don’t have time for that medieval shit.”

“You’re really a smoke eater?” It slipped out of my mouth. I couldn’t help it. I felt like a kid meeting their favorite professional running back. Depression and grief had no hold on me for the moment, not with a smoke eater standing in front of me. “What department were you with?”

Bethany threatened the rifle. “Quit talking, fan boy!”

Again, Seabee pushed her weapon away. When he exhaled, it came out like a balloon hissing air through a pin prick. He turned to me and crossed his arms. “You want to prove yourself to us?”

“Of course,” I said.

“Because we have good people in this town counting on us to protect them. If I go off on a dumb mission to help your ass out, I have to know it’s for good reason.”

“Yeah,” I said, “I get that. You already took my tank. I just want to be able to do okay out there by myself. Bethany was right when she said I have nowhere to go, but I promise, I never wanted to screw things up for you or this castle.”

Bethany groaned. “It’s not a castle. We built this place around a store called The Cheese Castle. And just like your story, it’s not fucking real.”

“Whatever,” I said. “Just tell me what I’ve got to do.”

“Answer this question,” said Seabee, “and you’ll be good in my book.”

“Dad!”

“Stuff it, Bethany.” Seabee leaned in close. His eyes were ocean green and they had me locked in paralysis. “What’s the smoke eater motto?”

Bethany groaned and walked away a few steps, grumbling about how stupid this was.

“That’s it?” I asked. “That’s the question?”

“Can you not answer it?” Seabee cocked his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard me well. “Do you want my daughter to shoot you?”

“Sink or swim,” I said. “The smoke eater motto is sink or swim.”

Kenji barked. His eyes showed digital fireworks going off.

Seabee nodded, grunted. “Come with me.”

Bethany watched us walk away. I turned to look at her. Not to rub it in. Just to see what she would do. She watched us for a second, her mouth open in disbelief, then she followed.

“Can you answer my question?” I said, struggling to keep up with Seabee as he chugged ahead. “What department were you with? I’ve only studied Washington and Ohio. They stand out more than the others because they had such big dragon attacks to deal with.”

“Shut up and walk,” he said.

I didn’t see more than twelve other people in town but I was sure there were more. They’d been going about their business but stopped to watch us pass by. Everyone seemed to have a job to do. Some of them had been welding metal parts together. Others were washing a pile of clothes with a tub and a brush.

Behind me, low enough her father couldn’t hear, Bethany said, “If the Army does show up, I’m going to kill you first.”

I looked back over my shoulder. “Are you still at it?”

She shrugged.

The building Seabee led me to was less of a housing unit and more of a large garage. Nothing more than bricks around a roll-up door. The outside had been painted to look like an old school firehouse. It even had a dalmatian sitting by a fire hydrant. I touched the Maltese cross emblazoned on my shirt. All the obvious signs had been there. I just hadn’t picked up on them. This guy had history.

Seabee walked to the center of the garage door, bent over, grabbed the handle, and with a thrust of his arm, threw it open. It rose, clanking on rusty tracks. Inside was something I never thought I’d see.

“Oh, man.” My legs wobbled. It had been a rough few days, but even at my healthiest I would have quaked.

A slayer truck sat in the garage. Its spherical, glistening windshield reflected my image, and on the other side was a cabin laden with cushy, gray interior and buttons ripe for the pushing. On the roof and running along each side were purple and white emergency lights. The slayer’s body was painted mostly black, with just enough streaks of violet throughout. The tires were even shiny. This truck might not have been used in a while, but somebody had been taking good care of her while she was out of commission. Most of the lettering had been torn off – only a P, an N, and a couple vowels remained – so I still didn’t know what department either Seabee or the slayer had served.

“How…” I couldn’t find the words. “…How do you have this?”

Seabee opened the slayer’s driver side door. He climbed in and started her up. It hummed. All the lights turned on, twirling and sparkling wonderfully. A slight whine of energy came from its center, but otherwise the slayer truck was silent. It rolled out of the garage and there, out in the open, I got a really good look at it.

According to the diagrams and reports I’d read, a slayer like this was thirty-five feet long. Each bin contained different tools and weapons the smoke eaters had utilized. I started to reach out a hand to touch it, but quickly forced myself to drop the arm. I didn’t feel worthy. Plus, Bethany was watching me and I didn’t want to give her more reason to shoot me.

Seabee left the truck running and jumped out of the driver’s seat. “Are you shitting your pants yet, Guillermo?”

“I might as well be.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the vehicle.

“Let’s get suited up,” Seabee said. “In the wastes I want you to be protected as much as possible. Because we’re both too old for me to hold your hand. You were a soldier so I’m going to assume you can handle yourself out there.”

“Sure I can. I killed a dragon all by myself yesterday.” Shit. Was that too cocky? I wasn’t trying to be arrogant.

Seabee blinked. “You did, huh? What kind of dragon?”

I stumbled over my words. “Uh, it was, you know, just some acid dragon.”

“A Kilgore?”

“No,” I said. “We thought it was a Wyvern, but it ended up being more of a Drake. I never read about that kind of scaly.”

“Nice.” He gave me a nod before walking off. “Sounds like it was Maleer.”

“Dad,” Bethany called, but he was already walking to the first big bin at the side of the slayer truck. “Dad!”

“Wait,” I said. “What did you mean we need to ‘suit up’?”

Seabee lifted the bin door and holy fucking shit, out came an actual smoke eater power suit. It was the armor they wore to fight dragons. Nothing the Army had could match it. Its green metal glistened like undisturbed swamp water. A dragon skull was carved into the chest. Its boots and gloves held lights that would glow orange when someone stepped in and turned it on.

“Oh, man,” I walked over to the suit.

“Go on,” said Seabee.

I reached out and touched the dragon skull emblem. Its metal was cool to the touch and rough enough I worried I might cut myself. I wondered how many battles the thing had been put through.

“No,” Seabee said. “Don’t just touch it. Push in that skull emblem.”

My breath caught, but I managed to push where he’d said. The suit opened like a broken egg.

“Slip on in.” Seabee nodded toward the suit.

I felt like I was going to hyperventilate.

“Dad, you can’t leave.” Bethany stomped over and grabbed her dad’s elbow. “We need you here. We can figure out something else to do about the tracker. About… him.”

“Baby girl, I’ve been cooped up behind these walls for too damn long,” Seabee said. “I want you to run things while I’m gone. You’re the only one I trust to do it right. And, like I said, I should be back by tonight. Gilly and I will get far enough away, toss the tracker, then we’ll find the kid some transportation and send him on his way. Easy peasy.”

This caused Bethany to shoot back a retort and they began a muffled daughter-father argument. I wasn’t listening anymore. The power suit was waiting.

I stepped up and slipped my arms and legs into the appropriate holes. The lining inside the suit was made of a soft, absorbent fabric. It felt good. Sturdy. Once my fingers were in the metal gloves, my feet secured inside the boots, the suit closed and sealed around me. The fabric inside tightened, but only enough to where it was secure but still comfortable.

Seabee patted his daughter on the shoulder while she was mid-sentence and walked toward me, smiling. “Smoke eaters always had the best toys.”

I stepped off the truck and got a sense of the power suit’s weight against the snow on the ground. I looked at my feet and, sure enough, the tips of my boots were glowing orange. I raised my head and laughed. My breath puffed steam into the air. I lifted two fists and shouted, “This is the greatest day of my life!”

Also the worst.

But I’d forgotten, for a few moments at least. Later, I would think back to that moment and wonder why I was behaving like such an idiot. Like such a kid. Emotions are screwy things. They’ll take you to the lowest depths and then rocket you to the loftiest highs, using the same momentum.

What was the saying? Any port in a storm? Some people couldn’t help milking a depression, let it drown them. My mind always sought any distraction it could dig its hooks into. My family was dead, I’d lost my tank, the Army was coming for me, and all I wanted to do was play smoke eater. Maybe acting like a kid was a lot less painful than accepting reality like an adult.

Seabee moved to the end of the slayer truck and opened another bin. I watched in amazement as he donned his own armor. He grabbed a smoke eater helmet from the same bin and secured it with a chin strap. Turning, he walked toward me smoothly, as naturally as if the metal was his own skin. The image was striking. I felt like I’d seen him before. Some old video on the Feed, an old book. He had a look I couldn’t place.

“Who are you?” I asked. “Really?”

“I’m just your chauffeur for a couple hours. Get in the truck”

“Come on,” I said. “I have to know.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

I pointed to his helmet. “Well, can I get one of those? You said I need to be fully protected.”

He laughed as he pushed past me. “You have to earn a helmet. And you don’t even know if you’re a smoke eater. Get in the truck and wait.”

“I might be,” I called to his back.

He didn’t respond.

I walked around to the passenger side of the slayer, but stopped to peer around the front, to see what the old smoke eater was doing.

Bethany knelt next to Kenji, petting his metal head and staring at the ground. Seabee said something to his daughter, but she refused to look at him. He got down on one knee and kept trying. I couldn’t hear what he was saying but it was just as well. It wasn’t any of my business. She looked up and tears were in her eyes. She leapt forward and allowed Seabee to catch her, hold her. How could I blame her for acting the way she was? If I had any family left, I’d hold on tight and never let go. I wouldn’t care if they were trying to help some punk kid or saving the world.

The old man put an armored hand at each side of his daughter’s face. Whatever he said next caused Bethany to lift her chin, sniff, and wipe the tears from her eyes. They both stood and walked toward the center of town.

“Everybody,” Seabee shouted. “Emergency meeting. Gather ‘round.”

The townspeople we’d passed earlier stopped their work and walked over to meet the smoke eater and his daughter. A little boy and a middle-aged couple walked out of crops growing along the far wall. Others filtered out of the painted buildings.

“Whoa!” the little boy ran up to Seabee and touched his power suit. “Cool!”

Seabee put his hand on the kid’s shoulder and spoke to the rest of them. “I have to leave for a little bit. Bethany is in charge while I’m gone.”

They flooded him with questions.

“Why?”

“How far are you going?”

“What are you going to do with that Army guy?”

“Why the hell are you dressed like that?”

“Listen,” Seabee said. “That tank we brought in here had a tracker and I’m going to take it and the Nusie far from here. This isn’t any different from when we go out and scavenge. It’s to keep us going. I’ll be back by tonight. Worst case, tomorrow morning.”

Bethany turned to stare at her father. She kept silent.

“I just wanted to keep all of you informed,” Seabee said. “I might come up against some scalies so that’s why I’m taking my old equipment. But more than likely I won’t see more than a few snowflakes. You have nothing to worry about.”

That didn’t stop their questions. It only gave them more.

Seabee raised his hands and turned to walk back toward me. “I don’t have time. Just keep things going as usual. Do what Bethany says.”

They all watched him walk away.

I hurried into the slayer, closed the door behind me. The inside of the cab held a faint smell of smoke and I wondered if I was breathing in the same molecules that had originated inside a dragon. The thought both excited and scared me. I began studying the slayer’s controls. I imagined a crew of smoke eaters sitting there, pushing those same buttons. A captain had ridden exactly where I was. This should have been everything I’d dreamed of, and it was, but it was like chasing a happiness I could never grasp. I should have felt more.

Seabee climbed behind the wheel and slammed his door shut. The slayer moved forward and the townspeople split apart to let us through. With one hand on the wheel, the old smoke eater blew a kiss to his daughter. Bethany caught the imaginary, flying smooch and put the closed fist against her chest. My stomach twisted and my throat tightened. My eyes began to burn so I dabbed a metal finger at their corners.

“This is the apocalypse,” Seabee said. “We don’t have time to be depressed.”

“Didn’t you grieve your wife?”

He punched the accelerator. Someone had lowered the town’s gate and it felt like we sped through it at a hundred miles an hour. Seabee didn’t say anything, but I could sense the anger radiating off of him like an inferno. I thought he might hit me. He didn’t.

“Sorry,” I said.

“No, it’s a good point. I’m sorry.”

We were coming up onto the road. I didn’t know if he’d turn left or right, farther from where I’d left the platoon or back toward them. But something else was on my mind.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked. “Not that I don’t appreciate it. But letting me wear this suit, helping me find a vehicle. It’s not just the tracking device. Most people would have killed me or thrown me to the scalies.”

“I’m not most people.”

“No, I guess you’re not.”

He sighed. “Look, kid. If what you say is true, the other Nusies think you might be a smoke eater. And if you don’t really know if you are or not, I don’t blame you. I didn’t know I was until way later than most. So if you are, I’d feel like shit if I didn’t help out one of my own. Plus, you looked so pathetic in that stupid robe and then when I told you about Peoria… Well…

“Aside from that, I’ve been itching to get the fuck out of that town and do something interesting for longer than I can remember. Hell, Bethany wasn’t even a tween when we started that place.”

“What’s the town’s name?”

“Doesn’t have one. Towns with names are towns that want to be found.”

He turned southwest.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked. “We gonna throw that tracker into Lake Michigan?”

“Nope. It would just stay in one place and the Nusies would see it was in the water. Besides, if they do find the tracker, I want them to find some trouble along with it.”

I looked out at the flat, gray world and tried to think of what his plan might be. I came up with nothing, so I just decided to ask him. “Where are we heading?”

“Chicago,” he said.

“What the fuck? Are you crazy? Even the Army knows to stay away from big cities. And Chicago? That’s got to be the worst one.”

“It’ll kill two birds with one stone,” he said.

“Yeah, if you mean we’re the two birds.”

“Chicago is far enough from my town and it’s going to be the best place to find a car that runs.”

I considered arguing the point but I was at his mercy. “I guess it would make them think twice about looking for me or the tank. So we get into Chicago, find a car and drop the tracker in the street somewhere?”

“Nope.”

“Look, man. I’m not a mind reader. Do you think you can help me out here?”

“Like I said, I want the Nusies to have trouble when they find the tracking device. I also want the thing to be on the move in the meantime, make it look like you’re still driving the tank. I want to make those Nusie bastards work for it.”

“Why do I have the feeling we’re not just going to strap it to a remote control car or something?”

“Something.”

I leaned away from the old man, but kept my eyes on him.

He was crazy. I didn’t realize just how crazy until he gave me a wide grin and said, “We’re going to get a scaly to swallow it.”