CHAPTER 20

The wraiths had always looked menacing and creepy floating inside the aquarium-like walls of the enclosures, but when Brannigan and I got out of the truck and stood there outside the eastern dragon pen, the ghosts were going ape shit.

They flew from one end of their encasement to the other in the blink of an eye, wailing and shattering to bits if they smashed into another wraith. Then they’d reform and go back to acting a fool, scratching against the glass and even trying to bite the wall with their electric teeth.

The enclosure was over fifty feet tall, so it was like standing outside an office building watching a shark feeding frenzy take place in every window.

I stepped closer to the section of glass directly in front of me. One of the wraiths floated down and shrieked, flexing its clawed hands and glaring at me with eyes that sparked like a busted electrical outlet. Its jaw spread so wide that it split the ethereal gray skin hanging loosely from its skull. The jaw fell off and was absorbed by the shredded bottom of the ghost’s torso before it reappeared in place.

The wraith slammed its face against the glass.

“Goddamn ghosts.” I ran over to join Brannigan at the entrance.

Ted Sevier opened the door and with a relieved sigh said, “Thanks for coming. Follow me.”

The entryway we stepped into was meager – walls and ceiling with a polished metal shine as if we were walking through a tube of aluminum foil. A guard was posted by the wraith port, which was where smoke eaters dumped wraiths caught on dragon calls – where I should have already dumped Mr Wilkins. It was black and shaped like a robotic baby bottle. At least, that’s what always came to my mind. All we had to do was stick in the pointy end of the wraith remote and press a button. Job done. The wraiths could then float around and be weird and dead amongst their peers.

That was another thing. If I had deposited the wraith here, and the Wilkins family won their suit, it would be damn near impossible to find the right ghost in the enclosure and get them out of the walls. Sure, the wraiths held a slight likeness to what they looked like in life, but it was a saggy, musty version only those with a keen eye would be able to see.

At the end of the hall we passed through another door that Ted had to unlock with a hand scan. This brought us into the dimly lit dragon observation hall, which was like being at a zoo with only one big paddock you could see into through glass that surrounded the entire dragon area.

I’d never been in here before. My crew usually left after we dropped off sleeping dragons. I hadn’t known whether to imagine the scalies packed together like sardines in a can or a wide expanse of ashy terrain where dragons walked around confused.

On the other side of the glass, though, it looked like a scene from some fantasy novel. Fake sunlight poured through hologram trees as a giant, blue drake thudded through the woods, galloping on its four clawed feet like a horse trying to buck off its rider.

The drake reared on the nearest hologram tree and blasted a stream of fire into the branches. Of course, after some wobbly static, the tree went right back to being tall and serene. This just pissed the dragon off and it galloped past a group of poppers who were taking turns burrowing and then launching out of the ground to land on the back of an orange-scaled lindworm, which only had two hind claws, but a nasty tail with a tip that looked like a spiked wrecking ball. This lindworm couldn’t fly away as it hadn’t sprouted wings out of its side plates yet, so it was at the mercy of the poppers who continued to assault it by biting its back a few times before dropping to the ground and burrowing away to start again.

When the next popper launched out of the ground, the lindworm was ready and snatched the smaller dragon in its teeth. The lindworm’s whiskers caught fire and seared the popper as the lindworm shook it from side to side in sweeping jerks.

An electric, purple scaly glided from above on short wings and slammed into the glass in front of me. I flinched and stepped away. When the dragon realized it had met resistance, it extended its neck frill and sent sparks shooting out of its thin membrane.

“What the hell is going on with these things?” I asked.

“That’s why I wanted you to come see it for yourself,” Ted said. “They’ve been acting like this since last week and its only getting worse. I’m guessing you already saw what the wraiths are doing.”

Chief Brannigan made shooing moves with his arms, trying to make the electric dragon go away, even though he knew the scaly couldn’t see him. “Last week, you say?”

Ted nodded. “We tranquilized one of the dragons and brought it back to the lab. Do you want to come see?”

We followed Ted into another room with a couple of propellerheads standing around a sheet-covered mound on a slab, talking about the recent droid football game. They jumped to attention when we entered.

“Let’s show them your findings,” Ted said.

The propellerheads each grabbed a side of the sheet and pulled it off. Lying there on a slab was a golden fafnir, about the size of a baby elephant. Its chest rose and fell steadily, heavily, and they’d placed a titanium muzzle on it as an extra precaution.

“We’ve had to hit this one with a Sandman more than a few times,” Ted said. “Whatever has gotten into these scalies is also making it hard to keep them asleep.”

One of the propellerheads took a long instrument and walked to the fafnir’s back end. Raising its tail, the propeller head shoved the metal stick into, what I could only guess, was the dragon’s butthole.

“Goddamn,” I whispered, and clinched my own cheeks in sympathy.

The propellerhead removed the stick and said, “It just crested nine hundred Fahrenheit.”

Brannigan had been reaching out a hand to touch the scaly’s chest, but jerked his hand back and said, “Holy fuck. They usually stay around four hundred, right?”

“Its temperature has been on the rise for days now,” Ted said. “I never knew dragons could get fevers.”

Brannigan and I turned our heads to each other, staring with worry and understanding. It didn’t have to be said out loud. We were thinking the same thing: Patrice.

As we were leaving, I said, “Chief, this phoenix is doing something to the dragons, the wraiths. It fucked with Patrice when she swallowed that ash. And these arsons… there is no cult, like the police want to believe. It’s the phoenix. I don’t know what, but if we don’t find that ugly-ass bird soon, something even worse is going to happen.”

“My thoughts exactly. That’s why I want to put you in charge of a special team.”

The last time my position was changed, the world went to shit. But if this meant we could put an end to the fiery psychosis taking form in every ghost, person and scaly, I was down for it.

“Okay,” I said.

“Good,” Brannigan said. “Your focus will be on finding the phoenix and taking it out for good. Yolanda says she has some fun new toys specifically for that purpose. Also, the fire and police chiefs have asked if we could spare some folks to assist in nailing this cult they keep talking about.” He raised his hand before I could object again. “We both know it has something to do with the phoenix, so that makes it your problem to solve as well.”

Getting involved in some stupid investigation wasn’t really on my radar. Nor was educating the folks in blue on what was really going on. But someone had to do it. “As long as I don’t have to do any extra paperwork.”

“No, you guys will aid in gathering information for the cops and going into any situation others can’t. Flames and shit like that.”

“My specialty,” I said.

Brannigan clapped his hands, making it final. “I believe in you, Tamerica. Let’s make sure this squawking bastard never hurts anyone else again. Tomorrow, you’ll start training everyone to fight a phoenix specifically.”

He started out of the door, but I stopped him.

“I do have a few conditions.”

Brannigan turned, raising his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I get to pick everyone on this team.”

“Done. Send me the list and I’ll make it official that you’re in charge of the Ash Kickers unit.”

‘Ash Kickers.’

I guess it did have a ring to it.