CHAPTER 12

The Basilisk and the slayer both lay dead. There was no reason to drag them anywhere and we didn’t have the means to do so anyway. You know who else was supposed to be dead?

Cole Brannigan.

“What did she just call you?” I stared down at the old man sitting in the ashes.

He rubbed at his face and looked up at those of us who’d gathered around him. I couldn’t believe it. There was no way this was the same guy who’d overseen the Ohio smoke eaters. The woman who’d punched him had to be mistaken. It was just a big misunderstanding.

The man who’d been driving the cannon truck rushed over. “T, what are you punching that old man for?” He skidded to a stop when he saw Seabee on the ground. “Ch… Chief? What the fuck?”

Afu helped Seabee onto his feet. “I knew it. I knew you weren’t really gone.”

“That’s right, go ahead and help him up, Afu,” Tamerica said, “so I can knock his ass right back down again.”

“Hold up,” I said. I blinked, squinted, widened my eyes, anything to compare the face of the man in front of me to the photos I’d seen on the Feed. “You’re Cole Brannigan!?”

The old man blinked at me. “I was called that at one time, yes.”

“Wait, you said your name was Seabee…” No. That’s not what he’d said. It was his initials: C.B. Not Seabee. Cole Motherfucking Brannigan.

“Holy shit.” I stumbled backward, putting my hands on my thighs. This was like meeting Abraham Lincoln years after the incident at the Ford Theater. I turned to the woman grimacing beside me. “And you’re Tamerica Williams. That guy over there is Afu Kekoa.” I turned to the driver with red eyes. “And you’re?”

“Shit,” he said. “I guess I didn’t show up in whatever rap sheet you memorized. I’m Chris Renfro.”

“The smoke eater with Dragon Eye?” I said.

Renfro shook his head. “There’s a lot of other things going for me besides that.”

“Who are you, kid?” Tamerica removed her helmet and let her thick, black hair blow in the wind. Chunks of ash flew into the curly strands. She was exactly like I’d seen her in photos. Stocky and formidable. I’d heard her attitude rivaled Chief Brannigan’s.

“He’s with me,” Brannigan said.

“That doesn’t tell me shit,” said Tamerica. “Why should I listen to a dead man?”

“I’m Guillermo Contreras,” I said.

They didn’t seem to hear me. Brannigan and Tamerica locked eyes and the other two watched them like time bombs about to go off.

“I know you’re mad at me,” Brannigan said, “I can explain everything. But first, I want to know what you three are doing in Chicago. This is some serendipitous shit.”

“We live here,” said Afu.

I blinked at the big Samoan man. Besides the fact Cole Brannigan was alive and well, that was the craziest thing I’d heard all day. “You what?”

“Maybe we should move this conversation into the truck.” Renfro walked between us, looking from left to right as if he could sense something we couldn’t. His red eyes could see in the dark, after all. Maybe they could see more than that in the daylight hours. “I don’t like being out in the open like this for too long.”

Tears welled in Tamerica’s eyes. They began to flow like streams down her cheeks as she ran toward Brannigan. I flinched. Brannigan raised his hands to protect himself. Tamerica wrapped her arms around the old man in an embrace. She stood there sobbing with him tight against her. He patted her back. The sound was like two steel swords crossing.

“You motherfucker,” Tamerica mumbled against the old man’s shoulder.

“Seriously, though,” said Renfro. “Let’s get in the truck.”

Brannigan pulled Tamerica from him, holding her at arm’s length. “Come on. We’ll talk some more in the rig.”

I followed behind them. I felt like an outsider. Not even a smoke eater, but wearing the same armor, riding in the same vehicles. It was like playing at a dream that had ended long ago for everyone else.

We all crawled into the cannon truck and Renfro rolled us down the street, staying at a decent speed in order to swerve around debris, but still arrive at the destination before any scalies got wind of us.

Tamerica synced all our helmet radios together with a few voice commands. She did it so casually, too. As if it hadn’t been years since they’d worked a paid shift. As if they’d all seen each other the day before.

“So, where do I start?” Brannigan said. He was in the middle seat while Afu and I were on opposite ends in the back of the truck.

“How about you tell us how you didn’t disintegrate when the Phoenix exploded,” Afu said.

“Shit,” said Brannigan. “That’s easy. You know those jet packs we can put on our power suits? We used them back when we jumped out of Jet-1 in New Mexico.”

“You jumped off the top of that building?” Renfro asked.

“I sure as fuck wasn’t going to hang around,” Brannigan said. “After I barred that roof door, I dodged the Phoenix and got to the edge of the building. All I had to do was release the wraith and jump.”

Afu shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”

“You knew the whole time what you were going to do,” Tamerica said. “Why’d you hide it? Why didn’t you at least come find us and tell us you weren’t dead. Fuck, I’ve been depressed for years.”

“She really has,” said Afu, with a nod.

Tamerica turned around in the captain’s seat. Her glare could have shattered bricks. “Boy, shut up.”

Everyone had heard about the Phoenix. The smoke eaters had killed it by regular means a few times but the bird would resurrect and become stronger with each new life. In a rush, the propellerheads had figured out a way to keep the Phoenix in ashes. No one knew how they’d done it, but the result was a giant explosion at the top of Buck High-Rise Estates, and Brannigan scorched to particles. The prevalent rumor I’d read on some Feed forums suggested the smoke eaters had sacrificed Brannigan to appease the firebird. They were all whack-jobs, but it showed how easily people could be influenced. That’s why it was so easy to end the smoke eaters.

“I wanted to tell you,” said Brannigan. “But fuck, I’d been trying to retire to a quiet life since before I ever became a smoke eater. You know how Naveena and Donahue, rest his soul, basically forced me into this shit. I saw my perceived death as the way to get out and let better people take over. Y’all didn’t need me anymore.”

“That’s bullshit,” said Tamerica. “We needed you more than ever. After the Phoenix, the mayor put an end to us. She let the New United States Army take over. Same shit happened in every other city in the country. It was like a pandemic of green boot bastards taking over. They let everything go to shit. I am so fucking mad at you!”

Brannigan nodded. “I guess it’s not a good time to tell you Guillermo here used to be a Nusie.”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “Why would you tell her that?”

Afu laughed. “You must be new to Chief Brannigan. He has no filter or give-a-damn. Hey, though. Were you really in the Army?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But I really hated it and I ran away.”

“Kid showed up at my settlement in one of their tanks,” Brannigan said. “He said he stole it and went AWOL. My town commandeered it. Bethany is probably using the parts as we speak.”

“How are Bethany and Sherry?” Renfro asked.

Brannigan looked out the window. “Sherry isn’t around any more. Army and scalies saw to that.”

No one said anything for a few seconds too long. Desolate Chicago flew by my window. I tried and failed to recognize any significant point of interest. It was all just ashes and ruin now.

Afu cleared his throat and pointed at me. “Why are you wearing a power suit?”

“It was my idea,” Brannigan said. “Anyway, that’s why we’re here. We found a tracking device on the spider tank. I brought Guillermo here to find a car and get rid of the tracker.”

I turned to Brannigan. “So you were still able to put that tracker in a scaly? I hadn’t even thought to ask.”

“Damn right I did.” He waved his armored hand at me like it was nothing. “I shoved it down some Popper’s throat before I got back to the slayer.”

“You brought an Army tracker with you?” Tamerica turned in her seat to look at Brannigan. “Into my city? Why would you do that?”

“Well, what the fuck?” Brannigan said. “I didn’t think anybody would be living here, let alone you three. I figured the Army would steer clear of the city, or if their nuts swelled up and they decided to come look for it, they’d find teeth and fire to thin their numbers. Either way, I thought it was a good plan.”

“You and your plans,” Tamerica said. “You’re more dick than brains and you ain’t got much dick to begin with.”

“Why’d you have to bring genitalia into it?” Brannigan said.

“It wasn’t a bad idea,” I said. Why was I defending Brannigan? He’d nearly gotten me killed. “The Army has a general rule of staying away from metropolitan areas. They won’t come here.”

“They would if they had a good reason,” Tamerica said. “There’s something neither of you are saying. Why would you come all the way to Chicago to get rid of a tracker, just to throw the Nusies off your trail? Why not just toss the tracker into the lake and be done with it?”

“That’s what I said!” My voice went too loud through everyone’s helmet speakers. Feedback made us all cringe until it faded away.

“We also came to get him a car.” Brannigan shrugged.

Tamerica puffed air into her cheeks. I’d seen a few Lindwyrms do the same thing before breathing fire. She turned to me. I flinched. “Why would the Army want to track you down anyway… uh… What was your name? Guillermo?”

I nodded, but Brannigan spouted, “I call him Gilly.”

“Only my family calls me that,” I said.

“Whatever,” Tamerica said. “He’s one soldier. Couldn’t have been more than a private. He stole a tank. Big whoop. Tell me why you really came to Chicago.”

“Well the tank he stole was the only one the platoon had left,” Brannigan said. “And he killed his sergeant with it.”

“You killed a guy?” Afu asked. He looked me up and down.

“He wasn’t a guy,” I said. “He was a droid.”

“Your sergeant was a droid?” Afu’s bottom lip wobbled as his mouth hung open.

“That’s what I thought!” Brannigan pointed at Afu.

Tamerica shouted, “Why were you in that nest, Brannigan?”

“All right, damn it,” Brannigan said. “The Army thought Gilly was a smoke eater.”

Everyone in Cannon 15 turned their head toward me. Even Renfro, who was steadily driving the truck through tight squeezes and around stacks of overturned steel and dust, kept taking glances over his shoulder.

“Is he?” Tamerica asked.

“Can all of you stop talking about me like I’m not here,” I said, “or that I don’t speak your same language?”

I doubt they heard me. Everyone started talking at the same time.

“I don’t know if he is,” Brannigan said.

Renfro whistled. “A Nusie smoke eater.”

“What makes them think he’s one of us,” Tamerica said.

Afu’s cheeks jiggled as he shook his head. “A robot superior officer?”

“…that’s why we came to Chicago…”

“…figured they would have tested for smokies before they joined the Army…”

“So you just threw him in a power suit and hoped for the best?”

“Couldn’t you just turn the droid sergeant off if he starts giving orders?”

“If he was a smoke eater, we would have found out in that nest. If he wasn’t, he’d just be another dead Nusie and I could live with that.”

Everyone closed their mouths and turned to Brannigan.

My breaths came and went quicker and more shallow. “Wait a minute. You took me into that nest hoping I’d get burned or smoked out?”

Brannigan moved his jaws but no words fell out. I guess he couldn’t slither out of this one. He must have said more than he’d intended.

The air in my nostrils burned. “We never had to go into that nest. Did we?”

“Kid, look–”

“Don’t call me kid!” I said.

“I owe you my life,” Brannigan said. “I was wrong about you.”

“You’re goddamn right you were wrong. What was the idea? You were going to put me in the middle of some dragons and see how I did? Is that what sink or swim means?”

Brannigan clenched his lips and sat back.

For a moment, I’d shut up the old man. I didn’t want to waste the opportunity. He’d been calling the shots till then and I’d gone along with him until I found out I was nothing but scaly fodder. I had a decent amount of anger that I’d shoved down. This just gave me a reason to spew it all out.

I said, “I’m sorry about your wife. I really am. But I didn’t do that. I wasn’t there. I’m not in the Army anymore. Jesus! I used to look up to you. Smoke eaters are supposed to protect people, they’re not like the fucking Canadians. Was that it? I was a sacrifice? You were going to see what the dragons would do to me? Really? What if they’d bitten me in half? Not even a smoke eater can withstand that! Or was it that you were jonesing for some adrenaline, and so filled with hate and vengeance you were willing to risk my life so you could get your fix? And what if I turned out to be a smoke eater? Would that have been proof enough for you that I’m not lying?”

“You’re right, Gilly.” Brannigan hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t call me Gilly either. It’s Contreras or Guillermo. Only my family calls me Gilly. And you’re sorry my ass.” I shook my head. “Stop the truck. Let’s get this over with.”

I was tired of being judged and distrusted. The thread eventually snaps.

I’d considered suicide a few times while in the Army. Not seriously, of course. The thoughts just came and went: jumping off a bridge we’d march past, or throwing myself under one of the spider tanks. Nothing real. Wisps of smoke. I wondered if I had the guts to do it. I didn’t. But it worried me the ideations had shown up at all.

I wasn’t worried anymore.

“You heard me,” I said. “Stop the truck. Let’s find out once and for all. We can find a real smoky dragon. I’m sure there could be a few Wawels slithering around here. I’m tired of hem-hawing around. Let’s get this–”

Several large, dark shapes dropped out of the sky and landed heavily into the street ahead of the cannon truck. Renfro slammed his foot into the brake pedal. The entire truck shifted and spun. A screech from the tires filled my ears as the world outside lost focus. The icy road could have snagged us and tossed over like a can of soda at any second. But we stopped safely, the length of the truck stretching across the street. My window faced the way Renfro had been driving. I saw what had fallen out of the sky.

Five dragons stood side by side in the middle of the street. Two were Fafnirs: one red, one green. Another was a yellow Lung dragon, which I’d only known to live in China and Korea. The Lung had long curly tendrils coming from above its top lip like a weird antennae moustache. The other two scalies were Silver Razors – twins. You never saw one without the other.

The red Fafnir was the scaly in the middle, and from its neck Colonel Calhoun jumped to the street. Every dragon in front of me was fastened with the same sort of saddle. Atop each of these saddles sat a New United States Army soldier. If the dragon was big enough, a black rope ladder hung from the saddle for each rider to climb. The other soldiers dismounted their dragons and walked over to stand beside Calhoun. While the other soldiers wore their issued helmets, Calhoun only wore his maroon beret. The grunts pulled rifles off their backs and aimed them at us in the cannon truck.

There was still a soldier on dragonback.

“Oh fuck,” I whispered to myself.

Reynolds rode the yellow Lung dragon. I was glad to see her. I was glad she was okay, but I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, and the squirming in my guts told me I was in a world of shit. The dragons didn’t stir. They sat there patiently. They didn’t try to eat the soldiers in front of them, and the Nusies didn’t so much as look warily over their shoulders at the large scalies behind them.

Calhoun had something in his hand. When he raised it to his lips, I saw it was a small megaphone. He barked into it. “Turn off your vehicle and step out onto the street with your hands straight up above your heads. You have thirty seconds before our dragons tear you and your illegal truck apart and burn what little remains. Thirty…”