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Authors: Wesley King

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BOOK: Dragons vs. Drones
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“Are you ready?” she asked.

Marcus nodded, trying to act brave. “Let's do it.”

Dree turned back and tightened her grip, her eyes on the raging battle.

“Take us in!”

Chapter
15

L
ourdvang swept onto the chewed-up road in front of the school, landing right amid the smoking ruins. Marcus and Dree leapt off his back and darted for the school, and in a moment Lourdvang was gone again, spraying fire at a passing drone and then climbing rapidly toward the skies, hoping to draw them away. Dree watched him go, concerned.

They stopped in front of the main entrance, which was completely engulfed in flames. They looked at each other, uncertain of what to do.

“I'm going for it,” Dree said firmly. “The fire doesn't hurt me.”

She didn't know that for sure, of course—she'd never been completely immersed in flames. Neither had Marcus,
but he wasn't about to stand there and watch. The drones were momentarily distracted by Lourdvang, but that wouldn't last long. Marcus saw two of them hovering over the city even now, silently watching the events.

At any moment they could unleash missiles and turn the school into a crater.

“Me either,” he said, wincing as the fire crackled.

“Suit yourself,” Dree muttered, and then ran straight into the flames, grabbing the steel door handle with her bare hands. As she had thought, it was warm—hot, actually—but it didn't burn her skin. Whatever magic was in her blood, it blocked her from the fire.

Marcus chased after her, expecting to roast like a ham. But he too made it through the fire unscathed, and he looked around in utter disbelief as the flames rolled over him but didn't burn. Sweat dripped down his face almost instantly, but that was all.

What am I?
he wondered.

Dree threw the door open and they raced inside, where the main hallway was thick with smoke. Fire was raging everywhere, shooting out of classroom doorways and racing along the ceiling. It was like the fire was alive, enjoying its deadly work.

Dree froze. She had seen this before. She remembered a hallway wrapped in fire, pictures of people she knew melting on the walls. There was smoke everywhere, but she could see. She could see past the wall of fire, where another door was waiting . . . closed.

“Gavri,” she whispered. “I'm sorry.”

Marcus watched as her eyes glazed over, and he heard the quiet name on her lips. He grabbed her arm and shook her. “Dree? Are you all right?”

Dree snapped back to reality and remembered that this was a different fire.

“Yes,” she said. “Let's go.”

The blaze seemed less frenzied farther down the hall, and that was where Dree led them, ducking low beneath the heavy smoke that hung over them like brooding clouds.

They may have been safe from the flames, but she knew the smoke could still kill them both if they didn't move quickly. Dree guessed the families would be sheltered in the mess hall—it was a huge, reinforced concrete room and would be the best option to escape the barrage. Dree had gone to this school as a child, but she left to get her job at the forge. She had bad memories of this place—fellow students calling her dragon lover and traitor and saying her dad was a cripple.

She remembered returning home one day, finding her father alone.

“What's wrong, princess?” he asked, perched in his chair.

He'd been injured only a few months earlier, but the exhaustion was already settling into his face. People still came by—revolutionaries from the underground searching for their leader—but they found only a suddenly old man in a chair. They left disappointed.

“Nothing,” Dree murmured, trying to hurry to her room.

“Dree,” he said sternly.

She stopped, wringing her hands together.

“The kids at school.”

“What did they do?” he asked.

She looked up at him. “They called you a cripple. The older boys. They said you got what you deserved.”

Her father was silent for a moment. “Come here.”

Dree shuffled into his arms, and he met her eyes.

“People will always say things, princess. It doesn't matter. All that matters are our choices, Dree. Not about what you feel or fear. About what you believe.”

Dree's eyes watered. “So get up. Help the people at the door—”

“Maybe one day,” he said softly. “For now, I have to rest.”

And just like that he was gone again, and Dree was back in the fire, racing down the hallway to save her family.

Marcus stayed right on her tail, terrified and exhilarated all at once that he could be in here, surrounded by flames. He did feel the smoke hitting him hard, though, and he suspected he'd succumb to it soon enough. A wooden door collapsed next to him, spewing fire as it did. He saw hand-drawn pictures on the wall, burning. Ahead, Dree looked manic.

“Hurry!” she shouted, sprinting down the hall.

They reached the mess hall and Dree wrenched the double doors open, revealing at least a hundred terrified people huddling in the center of the huge room. She spotted her parents with Abi and the boys and ran over to them, wrapping Abi in a fierce hug. Her father overlapped them both, tears of relief streaming down his face. Dree had never seen him cry before.

“We thought you were gone,” he whispered.

“I thought the same about you,” Dree replied hoarsely, pulling away from them. “What are you still doing in here? The school is on fire.”

“What can we do?” he said, looking around. “It hasn't spread in here yet, and the machines are still attacking out there. We could hear the screams. If we leave we might be gunned down.”

“If you stay you'll burn,” Dree replied. “It's spreading fast.”

“Who's that?” Abi asked, looking at Marcus.

They all turned to Marcus, who was standing awkwardly behind Dree, trying not to intrude on the tearful reunion. He managed a wan smile and a wave.

“A friend,” Dree said shortly, as her mom wrapped her in a hug as well. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and as she stroked Dree's cheek, the tears started again.

“We thought—”

“I know,” Dree cut in. “But we can do this later. We have to leave.”

“How?” Abi asked, terrified.

Marcus looked back and saw that the fire was now raging across the doorway they had entered. He spotted another door on the far side of the mess hall and hurried over to check it. Gingerly pulling it open, he saw that the fire was already spreading there too, but that it was not nearly as fierce as the other side. It was the only way out of the gym.

“Here!” he called. “Hurry!”

Dree and her family started herding everyone toward
the door, and Marcus cringed when he saw all the small children huddled against their parents. There were even babies cradled in their mothers' arms. He couldn't let anything happen to these people.

Marcus quickly led the crowd out into the hallway, where the flames were already creeping along the walls and floors like vines. Screams suddenly erupted from the mess hall, and he looked back to see that the far wall had just collapsed beneath the fire.

They didn't have much time.

Waving his hand and shouting for the crowd to follow, he turned left down the hallway, heading for what looked like daylight some fifty feet away. Dree was still at the back of the group, trying to get everyone out, so it was up to Marcus to lead the way.

He was halfway there when the school was rocked by a powerful explosion. The force of it almost knocked him right off his feet, as up ahead another wall collapsed.

“Hurry!” he shouted, and the crowd of screaming Draconians broke into a run.

One harried young woman pulling a child beside her was just passing Marcus when the ceiling started to give out. A wooden beam fell right through, bursting with flames and heading straight for the woman and her child. Marcus didn't even think.

He reached up and caught the beam, almost buckling under the weight but just managing to keep his footing. The fire was racing over his hands, but as before, it didn't burn him. The weight was incredible though, and he felt his arms straining terribly.

“Go!” he screamed.

The woman stared at him, wide-eyed, and then ran out with her boy. The rest of the group rushed past, gasping when they saw Marcus holding the burning beam over his head, the fire seemingly having no effect on him. Dree and her family came last, and she helped him push the beam aside, looking at him with a strange expression.

There was no time to talk. The school was rocked by another explosion, and Marcus and Dree ran down the hallway as the ceiling started to cave in. Her family burst out of the back door, and Dree and Marcus followed, racing into the brilliant daylight as the hallway collapsed behind them. Their hearts sank immediately. The crowd was huddled together in a circle, right in the middle of a field outside the school. There, hovering right in front of them, were three drones.

The drones weren't firing—they just floated there, red eyes locked on the crowd. Machine gun turrets were exposed below each of their wings. The silence was heavy.

“What are they waiting for?” Dree whispered.

“I don't know,” Marcus said. “Orders, maybe.”

A man suddenly broke away from the crowd, sprinting for cover. He never made it—one drone casually gunned him down, not even moving from its position. The screams and weeping echoed across the field.

Marcus felt sick. Were resources really worth all this?

He stepped forward, walking toward the drones.

“Hey!” he said. “My name is Marcus Brimley from
Arlington, Virginia. Please stand down. These people are not your enemies!”

He stopped in front of the drones, pleading.

“Please . . . stop these attacks. You're murdering children—”

The drones suddenly shot upward, about fifty feet overhead. For just a moment, Marcus thought that he had persuaded them to stop. Then he saw a white drone waiting beneath the clouds, almost invisible, missiles emerging from its stark wings. The red eyes of the black drones flared as they locked on their target: the crowd.

“Take cover!” Marcus screamed, already knowing they would never make it.

But just as the drones prepared to fire, black shapes swooped from the sky. Marcus looked up in wonder as the dragons descended like a flock of ravens, spewing fire and converging on the three drones.

Erdath landed directly on top of one of the black drones, tearing at the heavy metal with his teeth and claws in an absolutely terrifying fervor. He ripped a wing clean off with his teeth, sending sparks shooting everywhere. Erdath released it, letting it smash into the ground, a ruined hulk.

The dragons turned after the two remaining drones, but the drones didn't fight back. They simply took off to the south, leaving the attacking dragons far behind them.

Marcus and Dree watched as the drones vanished into the distance. Lourdvang and Erdath landed in front of the crowd.

“Thank you,” Dree said, hurrying forward to hug Lourdvang.

The other Draconians looked afraid, but many echoed her sentiment.

Erdath looked around the crowd. “You should leave the city. Make for the mountains. There are old dragon caves there—bring food and water and go.”

The crowd quickly dispersed, many of them stopping to thank Marcus and Dree before they took off into the burning streets. The young mother Marcus had saved stopped in front of him, her young son huddled against her leg.

“Thank you,” she said hoarsely. “Are you all right?”

Marcus blushed. “Yeah. I'm fine.”

She glanced at her son, then back to Marcus and lowered her voice. “How did you do that?”

“Luck,” Marcus said, shifting awkwardly and feeling Erdath's curious eyes on him. “Take your son and get to the mountains. It will be safer there.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

She took off with her son, and Marcus turned back to Dree, who was giving her family instructions on how to get to Lourdvang's hidden cave in the nearby mountain. They looked scared but determined, especially Abi. Dree took her father's arm.

“We'll fly overhead to keep the skies clear,” she said. “Get some supplies and go right away. It will take you an hour or two to get there. Don't go back to the docks.”

“Maybe we should try the bunkers?” Dree's mother suggested.

Dree shook her head. “They won't protect you. Get to the mountains.”

She hugged her family and then hopped onto Lourdvang's back. The other dragons were circling ahead, black shapes against the sky. There were at least fifty dragons there, and Dree knew the rest of the city was probably in a panic. Marcus followed Dree onto Lourdvang's back and watched as her family hurried into the city.

Lourdvang leapt into the air, and Marcus took a last look behind them, where the school was now a flaming heap of metal and concrete. If he didn't think of something soon, there would be nothing left of Dracone to save. He wondered again who was controlling the drones. Could it really be the U.S. government? Would they really murder all these people just for resources?

As they circled over the city, he spotted a black speck flitting over the tilled farm fields to the south. It must have been one of the smaller drones that Ralar had described, not much bigger than Lightning Bug. It looked like it was surveying the landscape. The drone flew in a carefully organized grid, moving slowly as it swept over one acre at a time, just like Bug in a storm. In fact, they looked almost identical.

Marcus turned away, adjusting his grip on Dree's waist and watching as her family hurried to grab their supplies, as small as ants below. The city was crumbling around them, the entire block nothing but rubble.

Whoever it was controlling the drones, they were winning.

Chapter
16

M
arcus, Dree, and Lourdvang stood together on the exposed ledge outside the Nightwings' lair, staring at the lush green valley far below them. Multicolored birds were circling over the forest canopy, their shrill voices echoing through the mountains.

Marcus, Dree, and Lourdvang had circled overhead for hours while Dree's family made the ascent to the cave. It wasn't an easy climb, but unfortunately without fire-resistant armor, none of them could climb onto Lourdvang. Only when Dree's family was safely tucked into the cave did Dree, Marcus, and Lourdvang return to the den. They needed a plan.

Dree's mind was on her father. He had looked ashamed
as he stood before Lourdvang and Erdath—afraid to meet their eyes and stealing furtive, bewildered looks, as if he was staring into the past and wondering if he could still return to it. At one point she had seen him wipe his eyes gruffly with his sleeve. She knew he was probably thinking of his dragon, Delpath. Delpath had been killed many years before by hunters, a few years after the split between humans and dragons, and she knew her father still mourned him every day. He refused to even look at the merchant stands in the city. When she thought of Lourdvang being killed for his fangs and scales and heart, she wondered how he could even look at humans without hatred.

Marcus's thoughts were elsewhere. The flight back to the mountains had been a silent one as he stared out at the devastated landscape. The drones had laid waste to some of the outlying towns as well, leaving hollowed-out ruins and bodies in the soil. Once or twice he thought he saw an almost ghostly black dot slip in and out of the clouds on the horizon. They were watching, waiting, and Marcus still suspected that the attacks would not end until Dracone was devoid of all sentient life. If he was right, the U.S. government could then waltz in through the portal, push the smoking ruins aside, and strip the world bare.

The idea made him feel sick and ashamed. He wondered again if his father had known about all this. If that was why George Brimley had traveled to Dracone, and why he had never come back. Maybe he was just trying to save this beautiful world from his own people. Marcus wanted
to believe it so badly that it already seemed true. His father was no traitor. He was a hero that had been betrayed by his own government.

That hope was the only thing keeping Marcus going. His father was somewhere in Dracone, and Marcus was going to find him and help him shut that portal forever. But first he had to stop the drones.

When they returned to the den, Marcus sought out Erdath to ask why he had decided to help. The ancient dragon had taken a long time to answer.

“Because a decade of hate does not erase a thousand years of friendship,” he said at last, smoke curling out of his nostrils as if he was puffing on a cigar. “If we do not work together, we will both be destroyed.”

Work together
, Marcus thought to himself.

“So what now?” Dree asked, her eyes on the flitting red and yellow birds.

Marcus shook his head. “I don't know. I thought maybe I could reprogram one of the drones, but how am I supposed to get one to stand still long enough to hook up my laptop? The only one that isn't flying around shooting things is lying in the middle of—”

Marcus stopped. He slowly turned to Dree, his mind racing.

“You're a welder.”

Dree was already way ahead of him. “I wouldn't know how to rebuild—”

“You wouldn't have to make it the exact same as it was,”
Marcus cut in, running through the necessary logistics. The main computer processor would still be there. The propulsion engines. The weapons. “You could design it how you want.”

He grinned, turning to Lourdvang and eyeing his massive wings and scales.

“In fact, we could probably make some improvements.”

Dree frowned, following his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“What if we combined the technology of the drones with the maneuverability and intelligence and fire of a dragon? A hybrid of the two. It would be far more powerful than the existing drones—it could wipe them out.”

Dree was skeptical. The toy dragonfly was one thing, but building something the size of Lourdvang sounded nearly impossible. Everything would have to be on a larger scale. Still, if she had the drone structure to build upon, it might be feasible. It was ambitious, but maybe not impossible. Besides, she didn't exactly have a better plan.

“We would need more materials,” she said. “And torches.”

“Can we steal that from Wilhelm's?”

Dree considered that. “Maybe, but I think we'd need more than he has in stock.” She suddenly thought of something. “The steel mill where my mom works—they have tons of raw metal and welding equipment. She told me it's abandoned now—the drones hit it soon after she left. We could get everything we need there.”

Marcus turned to Lourdvang. “We're going to need—”

“Dragons,” Lourdvang said. “I'll get two of them to
take you to the drone. They can lift it back here together. Dree and I will go to the mill to get the materials we need.”

Marcus grinned. “Perfect.”

“You're serious about this?” Dree asked.

“Very,” Marcus said, the grin slipping off his face. “In fact, it may be our only chance to save Dracone.”

Lourdvang and Dree landed outside the steel mill, both of them solemn. The massive factory was abandoned, a smoking hole puncturing the side and revealing tangled clumps of machinery within. It had been built almost a decade earlier, at the beginning of the economic revolution, and it had been churning out steel products ever since.

Dree slipped off of Lourdvang's back and checked the evening sky, feeling her skin prickle. The city was eerily silent, which only made her more anxious. She almost wished she could see a drone. Not knowing where they were was even more terrifying. She felt like one was going to pop out at any moment and blow them to pieces.

“Move quickly,” Lourdvang grumbled, obviously thinking the same thing.

She darted over to the storage yard and combed through the stacks of processed metal. There were huge steel girders and frames and cart axles, as well as long sheets and tin roof slats. She laid the most ideal pieces into a pile, making sure they were arranged so Lourdvang could easily scoop
them up in his claws. She selected thin sheet metal, pipes and pistons, and steel girders, as well as smaller scrap materials that could be crafted into the more detailed sections and inner mechanisms. She didn't understand the drones, but she understood steel and movement and flight. She would have to build the dragonfly toy on a massive scale—capable of intricate in-flight maneuvers and yet sturdy enough to withstand missiles and machine gun fire. Marcus told her there wasn't even anything like it in his world, and they were far ahead of Dracone in terms of technology.

But Marcus pointed out that his world also didn't have magic, and the dragons exuded it. With Lourdvang's help, he was confident they could make it work. Marcus was a different person when he had a mission: He was focused and passionate and optimistic.

He was pretty much the only one. Erdath and the other dragons had immediately dismissed the idea and thought that the mere notion of a dragon/drone hybrid was unseemly. But Marcus had at least persuaded them to help gather the scraps.

When she had collected enough materials, Dree sprinted into the mill to find the welding equipment. The inside was still thick with dust and lingering smoke, blurring a scene of an obviously panicked escape. Scattered clothes and boots and tools lay everywhere, dropped onto the concrete and forgotten. Gloomy sunlight was pouring in through the massive hole in the wall, but otherwise the building was dark. It took her a while to track the equipment down, but finally she managed to find torches, spare tanks, and a few other
small items that would allow her to craft the finer joints and gears: casts and scrap iron that she could use Lourdvang's fire to forge.

She passed a door in the dreary darkness and paused, thinking that it seemed out of place. There was a large
DO
NOT
ENTER
sign affixed to the heavy stainless steel, but it was hardly necessary. A massive padlock sat above the handle, and another bolt ran along the top. Nobody was getting in there without a key, though she didn't see a slot.

Dree was just heading back outside when she noticed a huge shadow darkening the doorway. Lourdvang was huddled against the wall, clearly hiding from something. She gingerly stepped outside, following his gaze upward. There was a solitary drone far overhead, moving slowly and silently across the sky. She could see the fiery red eye scanning the ground below, and she wondered what it was looking for. What was it doing? Why not fire on the city now and finish its work? Why wait and watch in silence? It didn't make any sense.

“I saw it a few minutes ago,” Lourdvang said. “We'll wait until it passes.”

They waited there, huddled against the cool steel wall and watching the drone fade into the distance. Dree clutched the heavy welding equipment against her stomach.

When the sky was clear, they hurried into the storage yard. Lourdvang scooped up the big pile of metal in his front claws while Dree lugged the bulky welding equipment up onto his back.

“Try and take it slow,” she said, setting everything on her lap.

“No problem,” he rumbled. “Other than the murderous drones patrolling the city.”

“Was that sarcasm?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I'm learning.”

Dree snorted as Lourdvang flapped his wings and lifted slowly off the ground, skipping his usual bounding leap. She tried to hold on to the equipment and still keep a hand on his scales, but she eventually gave up. She'd just have to hope he didn't make any sudden turns, or she would go flying off his back with the equipment.

Dree watched the horizon carefully as they flew out of the city, but other than a fleeting glimpse of black to the south, she saw nothing except exodus and mounting defense. The poorer people in the scattered towns and villages were heading downtown in great masses, seeking shelter in the so-far untouched shops and buildings of the downtown core. The ivory palace also remained intact, tall and gleaming in the middle of the destruction. But how long would that last? As far as Dree was concerned, they were all just sheep going to the slaughter.

The sun was just starting to set over the mountains, casting a brilliant orange glow over the sky. They flew toward it slowly, Lourdvang obviously beset by the heavy weight. He was forced to flap his massive wings almost constantly to stay aloft.

They were almost to the den when Dree saw the
strangest sight of her life. In the distance, it looked like a great, lumbering dragon was barely making it across the sky, holding some sort of enormous prey in its talons. As they closed in, she realized it was two black dragons carrying the demolished drone between them, Marcus looking on in concern from the back of one. He was leaning over to keep an eye on the drone.

“Careful!” he shouted over the wind.

Dree couldn't help but smile. Marcus was so intent on his project that he was yelling at a dragon, which was never a good idea. Perhaps there was a lot more to the gangly boy than met the eye.

They all set down on the overhanging ledge at the same time, the drone clanging loudly off the stone just as Lourdvang released the huge pile of metal. Dree and Marcus leapt off their respective dragons, and Marcus hurried over to her, grinning as he looked at the materials. He was already running through a mental checklist.

“Perfect,” he said. “Did you see that drone over the city?”

Dree nodded. “What do you think it was doing?”

“Surveying the next attack. Which means we have to move quickly.”

He turned toward the cavern, but Dree grabbed his arm.

“Do you really think this will work?”

Marcus paused. “I have no idea. But we have to try.” He walked over to one of the two dragons that had retrieved the drone. “Can we get this inside?” he asked, inspecting the haul.

The dragon growled at him, black smoke spewing like
a fog and completely covering Marcus. Marcus slowly reappeared as the murky cloud dissipated. He didn't say anything for a moment, and then he walked over to the pile of metal and started grabbing pieces. Lourdvang roared with laughter and then started to help.

Dree just sighed. This was going to be interesting.

She hurried into the cavern to prepare her tools. It was time to get to work.

BOOK: Dragons vs. Drones
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