Number 3, What if tale, Part 1

Six months, six long and painful months since the world began to slip into madness, chaos and death. The world had changed so much in such a short amount of time. It hardly even seemed possible. Of course, it wasn't just possible, it was happening. It hit like a firestorm to a dry forest, cities were attacked from all sides. There wasn't any way to save anyone from of fate that befell them in those sprawling urban landscapes. Those cold, unfeeling buildings that scraped the very sky were transformed into tombs for the dead during the battle. Those pieces of concrete and steel that mankind had labored so hard over to offer them shelter and a place to work only served to trap them and lead to a grisly end. What might you ask caused all this? Simple really, a reemergence of a long forgotten and to most people, a figment of imagination by long dead cultures. Thought to be tales of drunken warriors and knights who conjured up this beast in which they did battle with and won. This powerful, majestic and deadly creature now was proven to be very much alive and lived up to the tales. Running down the streets, flying through sky above and crawling along the sides of building causing hunks of cement to fall onto the pavement below was what many people thought to be impossible, dragons. All sizes of dragons, all types in every color of the spectrum.

The sound of crashing panes of glass, terrified screams of people caught by the animals as they drove deeper into each and every major city all over the world. The growls, hisses and snarls, punctuated by deafening roars rose from the burning cityscape just like the large columns of black smoke that scared the once serene skyline. The modern age fell at the claws of the dragon, ushering an age of brutal killing as once again, dark times befell mankind.

Forced from their homes and modern conveniences, every surviving human being fled out into the country side, making themselves smaller targets in hopes to go unnoticed or ignored to escape the flames breathed onto the roads behind them by the beasts that followed their every step. The United States was hit very hard; the bulk of the dragon attacks were within her boarders. The National Guard responded as quickly as it could, setting up camps armed with machine and anti-aircraft guns. Soon those camps became walled off and patrolled. Any scaly reptile bigger then a rat was riddled with holes on sight. Soldiers were kept on watch shifts to make sure the area was safe, but these camps had limited connection to each other so help was not going to arrive soon enough if at all should one of the camps be overrun.  Most of the camps were situated far out into the country in wide open areas. Large views of the surroundings to better spot incoming dragons. Mine fields and trip wires made it almost impossible for anything to sneak up on one of these camps.

Within the walls of the camps, mankind tried to rebuild. A little economy emerged with trading in goods and supplies. Small production lines started to pop up about 4 months into the war. Ammo and weapons were desperately needed and they had to be made to keep the fight alive. Food and fresh water were also secured; heavily fortified fields and lakes were protected around the clock every day to keep starvation and dehydration at bay for the masses.

The military had made numerous counter attacks on the dragon held cities. Bombing runs, infantry invasions and armored divisions rolled into many cities to try and force the monsters out. Only hands full of times were the attacks successful and only a few of the reclaimed cities were added back into the human's territory. Vast areas were under the ever watchful eyes of the dragons. They guarded their territory very fiercely. If a supply convoy fell victim to a dragon's wrath, it wasn't going to last long. Many convoys had to take armed and armored vehicles to defend themselves. That bettered their chances. It started to get routine to kill a number of dragons while going on a convoy.

It didn't take long for dragon slayers to start showing up in the camps, wanderers that would intentionally go looking for dragons and kill them. Claws, horns, teeth, they would be the mark of a dragon slayer and how good he was at his given profession. They would go from camp to camp, killing as many dragons along the way as they could. Many would pick a fight they couldn't win and be lost forever, just another meal for a dragon on a lonely day. Still, tales started to go around as the slayers would boast about their victories against the scaled beasts, only making the younger generation admire them and it didn't take long before a good many of them started to prepare themselves to become heroes, just like their idols. It would spell the birth of a new line of work in the world, dragon slayers were fast becoming a very much respected and even sought after profession. The world had changed, and human kind had to change with it. Some had taken to the change far better than others and it was shaping the face of mankind's destiny on the Earth.

Six months, six long months of uncertainty and fear was what a Midwestern family had endured. Way out in the sticks, so far from any major city or anything of importance, not to mention mostly tree covered sat a small 5 acre farm that was untouched by all the raging madness going on in the world. A little ranch style, brick home up on a little hill looks totally unharmed by anything but time.  Alton, Brighton, Bunker Hill, Edwardsville. All were hit and all lay in ruins. The tiny farm did its best to get by. The parents and their youngest daughter got by as best they could, but times were getting hard. Food and drinks other than water were getting harder to find. Mysteriously dropped on the backyard at times was a crate load of supplies. They didn't know for certain who was giving it to them, but they had an idea.

"There's another crate out there." the daughter said, "Looks like a good load."

"Let's get it into the house." replied the father, "Help me lift it Sam."

"On it Dad." she replied as the both went outside and quickly carried the crate into the house and down into the basement.

A wind generator that had been dropped with a crate load of supplies supplied the power to the house and barn. It was more than enough to keep the freezer, fridge and lights running.  While not totally comfortable, they were a lot better than most. That was probably what drove a small group of 6 refugees fleeing from an overrun camp to spot the working wind generator and rush their way to the spot where they found the cozy little farm.

When they rushed up the driveway, they heard a shotgun cocking sound.

"We don't take kindly to trespassers." said the father in a low voice, aiming his pump action shotgun at the first guy he saw.

"Please, you have to help us." pleaded the de facto leader of the group, "We just walked 60 miles after our camp got hit, those monsters killed everyone else. You have to help us; you look like you could spare some food and shelter for a few days."

"We'll we can't, so move on." he shot back.

"Al, come on!" shouted the mother from the back stoop of the house, "We can spare a day or two. Let them rest and then they can move on."

"Two days," Al said to the group, "Then you get out, you're lucky Kris is being so nice."

"Thank you, we'll be gone before you know it." replied the leader.

"You'd better be." he snapped back.

Al showed them to the basement of the house where there were some beds to rest on. Many of the refugees needed medical attention and Sam attended to their wounds and burns. As she cleaned a rather nasty set of gashes on a man's back, she saw the pattern they made. They were three long, deep gashes all next to each other, running parallel with each other.

    "Damn monster got me good." the man said, sensing that Sam was looking at his wounds carefully. He spoke with no shortage of anger in his voice, "The freak tried to grab me, wanted me for its dinner. I just ran as fast as I could. All those dragons deserve to die, there isn't a one worth to let live. You just wait sweety, soon we'll fight back and kill them all. You'll be able to grow up in a world where these monsters are back where they should be, dead and buried."

She winced at his hateful words, she knew what he said was rooted in well known fact. The monster that gave him his injuries wasn't something that should be allowed to let roam free. Her deepest fear was one she had left buried within her, but would surface when she would see wounds inflicted on people by dragons. A sense of dread that whichever creature had done the act wasn't the one she thought of.

Once everyone had eaten and was settled into bed, the day's chores on the farm went on like normal. The refugees slept off their long walk while the family tended to all the needs of the farm. Animals were fed and watered, crops checked and the garden tended. It was peaceful, but the looks on the faces of each family member was grim. They hoped that what happened to those refugees would not befall them. But something else nagged at their hearts. As the father looked around his home from the garden in which he was tending, he looked at the old red Ford F-150 that sat off to the side of the driveway. It wasn't moved for all those 6 long months and its tires were showing that. It had aged, its paint was faded and rust was taking its toll on its metal body. He looked at it and felt even worse; all he could do was look away from it. His heart was filled with regret, he doubted that there was anything he could do to relieve the pain he felt in his chest.

When the day was over, they went to bed. Al had told the refugees to remain in the basement after dark. If they needed anything they were told to bang on the wall three times for aid. The man with the claw marks on his back didn't listen. He had been through a lot and he didn't want to be caught off guard again. He went upstairs and outside, sitting next to the house with his back to the brick wall and watched the night sky.

"I'm ready for you." he growled at the stars as he glared up at them, his eyes narrowed with hate, "You took my family from me, I'll get my revenge on every last one of you beasts."

He sat there for hours, never moving, only staring. At about 2 in the morning, his blood pressure skyrocketed as the all too familiar sound of huge leathery wings in the distance found his ears. The steady flapping of them was all too fresh in his mind. He heard the sound get louder and louder as the beast approached, his heart was beating in his chest by the time he caught sight of the monster above the trees. It was coming right at the house.

He suddenly froze, just like he did back at the camp. It took his wife to get him to move the last time. In the blazing inferno of the camp, the dying screams of the people all around him, he stood in the middle of his home staring out the window in shock. His wife ran to him, pushed him at his back and kept pushing him forward because she knew if she stopped pushing, he would stop dead in his tracks. She had pushed him all the way out of the camp and kept on pushing him down the road till one of the creatures snatched her away. It was only the pain of the beast's claws that caused him to keep running for his life. When he finally stopped running, he realized what he had done. She had saved his life at the cost of her own because of his fear. It galled him to his core, but he made up his mind that the beasts would pay for taking his wife from him. He wasn't going to take full blame for his cowardice, he was going to make every dragon pay because he never looked back to see which one killed his wife. For all he knew, the dragon that was fast approaching was the dragon he was looking for, his wife's murderer.

The dark, wing silhouette to the man looked like a specter of death. Rage filled his blood, he fought his cowardice to stand up, find a way to kill the beast, but he was going too slowly. His body shook from the strain of the conflict that raged inside him. Before he was ready, the beast was almost over his head. He tried to shout a warning, at least give people a few seconds for the monster attacked, but his throat seized up and all the came out as a quiet choking sound. The next sound he heard was a very loud thump. Something landed on the backyard; he looked away from the beast in the sky and saw a crate had been dropped. The sound of the wings faded into the darkness. Much to his surprise, the beast was flying away. He shakily got to his feet and went to the crate to get another surprise. He opened the lid to find it was loaded with supplies, food, movies, office supplies, tools, gasoline and other things. All of it was packed tightly and padded in a very meticulous way. He was stunned.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked himself, "The dragons are helping this family? How? Why? What deal did they make with them? How did they even get the chance?"

He looked around the farm in the moonlight; it looked like it was never touched by a single claw. It was as if that somehow, these people had made a pact with the beasts. Rage once again filled his heart.

"They sold out their own kind." he growled, "They made a deal with those monsters for their own skin and now they want us out so they can continue to enjoy the good life under the heel of those beasts while the rest of us fight and die, barely making it through each day. This is why they want us gone in two days, they don't want to share. They are traitors to mankind; I will deal with them as I would deal with their new friends."

The man stormed into the house, went to the back bedrooms and kicked the master bedroom door in.

"HOW DARE YOU SELL US OUT THOSE MONSTERS!" he screamed into the room, "THEY ARE HEARTLESS MURDERERS AND YOU CUT A DEAL WITH THEM FOR YOU OWN SKIN! YOU SICKEN ME!"

With the man screaming as loud as he did, he woke up everyone in the house, but he also was in the dark and his loud voice made it so he couldn't hear Al get up and start to charge him. Just as the man took a breath to continue his hateful rant, Al tackled the man to the ground and punched him in the face so hard that it knocked the man right out. He grabbed the man by the ankle and started to drag him outside to the backyard. The other refugees warily came up the stairs to see what was going on when they saw Al fling the man into the yard as far as he could.

"What's going on?" asked one of the women of the group.

"GET OUT OF MY HOME!" bellowed Al in a fit of rage, "Your friend there saw fit to ruin this stay for you. I'd take your concerns up with him!"

The refugees were scared out of their wits and got out of the house as fast as they could. They grabbed up the man and they quickly carried him down the driveway and down the road. It was just after morning that the man woke up to a group of very angry faces.

"What did you do?" angrily asked the leader of the group.

"Those people made a deal with the dragons." he shot back, "They are traitors to mankind. They get to live their lives and even get supplies dropped to them by those creatures. They are the enemy, we need to go back there and take what we want from those people. They don't deserve those luxuries."

"What are you talking about?" asked another refugee, a kind looking lady by the way her face was wrinkled in confusion.

"I was outside last night and one of those dragons flew over and dropped a crate load of supplies to them." the man shot back.

The group's members started to mutter to each other, they saw the crate in the dark and knew it wasn't there when they had gone to bed. Facts clicked into place, it was very odd that they lived so well when it seemed no one else did. As they mumbled, anger grew among them. They started to work up a plan to raid the farm, take what they wanted. It was a day before they were all agreed, the farm must be hit. Not only because they needed the supplies, but to make an example of the family with betraying humankind to those monsters.

In the darkness, they armed themselves with sticks that they had pointed with an old knife one of them had taken from the camp when they fled. As they crept up from all sides, they felt like they were doing mankind a service by removing this group of traitors. Some of the more squeamish ones would just take the supplies while the ones that felt the strongest about it went to the bedrooms and killed the family. Only two were tasked with the killing, and they were given the knife and the strongest spear.

As they crept up on the house, a strange feeling befell them. A slight sound made the ones near the barn jerk; it was a slight tap on metal. They dismissed it as the wind blowing a tree branch and pressed on. When they had the house surrounded, they pushed across the yard, tightly gripping their weapons. They made it to about halfway to the house when a loud snap of a branch came from behind them in the woods. It was such a loud snap that they jumped. The once in the backyard slow turned around, and then they saw it. Holding in its claws was the now two halves of a thick tree branch as it sat there on is haunches with a cold stare from its gold slitted eyes. It had made the sound on purpose. Its black coat of scales blended with the darkness, but its yellow underside made it clear of what was sitting there, giving a line to start from to give its form a clear shape. Its eyes seemed to have a faint glow in the moonlight as it kept staring, and not moving a muscle.

The refugees turned raiders all stared in horror, the ones that were in the front of the house came around to see what had happened to find the rest of their party in a standoff with a large black dragon. Neither side moved an inch; fear gripped the raiders as the beast stared into their souls with its reptilian eyes. A shotgun blast from the back door caused the party of raiders to jump and a second got them running. Al stood at the back door of the house with his pump action shotgun, ramming in new shells into the receiver as the raiders ran off, save one that continued to stare at the dragon sitting in the trees that just kept staring right back.

"Y…yo….you must be the….the one that killed my wife." stammered the man as a combination of fear and utter rage welled up inside of him. The anger won for a bit and he shouted, "I'll kill you for what you did you….you… MONSTER!"

The man charged the dragon with his knife in hand, raised up over his head as he ran straight for the beast's chest to drive his blade into the dragon's heart. He screamed in anger as his feet pounded the dirt, tears ran down his face as he felt a sudden rush of joy. He would avenge his wife by taking the life of this dragon. He was mere feet away from the beast's chest, his arm tensed as he readied it for the killing strike when the dragon suddenly without warning burst into motion. It fell onto all fours, bringing its head down along with it and that also brought down its massive, razor sharp teeth lined jaws which clamped around the man's upper body. A loud series of terrified screamed resounding inside the beasts muzzle as its fangs dug into the man's body, blood rushing out of his ragged wounds as the dragon sawed its jaws deeper. The man tried to fight back, stabbing the knife into the side of the dragon's muzzle as his arm still hung outside of the beast's maw. It was useless, the knife suck into the scales and into the creature's flesh without causing very much damage, the pain only made the dragon bite harder. The man struggled to free himself, sinking the knife up to its hilt into the side of the dragons' muzzle, but only going to the bone and bouncing off. The dragon snarled, the man had caused it enough pain and decided to end it. It chomped down hard, severing the man's arms and cutting the man's torso in half. It spit the upper part of the man back onto the ground and looked into his dying eyes with that same cold stare. The man spoke with what little strength that remained within him, his voice choked and growing ever more quiet as he bled out through his massive wounds that spelled out his doom. With his fading breath, he said,

"You killed my wife and now you've killed me. You are all monsters and there will be a man that spells your death. Go to hell you beast, it's where you deserve to be."

The dragon let out a loud snarl, curled a paw into a fist and threw a hard punch into the man's face, caving his skull in and ending his life that much sooner. Al came back after chasing the raiders down his driveway to find the scene of horror in his backyard. The mangled body of the man with a black and yellow dragon standing over the corpse with a bloody paw and muzzle, he looked at the dragon with a shocked and horrified look on his face. The dragon looked back and on its face played two emotions, one going by in an instant, almost unnoticeable.  It was shame, and then its face read of anger. It let out a beastly snarl as it moved, stepping over its kill like a predator guarding its prize.

Al backed away, edging his way to the door as the dragon's eyes followed his every step. Once Al made it to the kitchen door and scrabbled inside. A sigh of relief was breathed the moment he was inside, but that quickly went away with the next series of noises he heard. He poked his head put to look through the door's window to see the large beast lying down next to the man's torn up body, and was starting to eat it. The dragon had picked up one of the man's arms and just started to chew it in its muzzle, swallowing the meat and bone as it reached down with a blood soaked, clawed paw and ripped off another piece to eat.

Al couldn't watch, he went to the living room to find his family was waiting for him, huddled on the floor. He sighed again when his wife asked him,

"What happened?"

"Those refugees decided to become raiders." he told her, his voice cracking at the pain he felt, "They were armed and from the looks of it, they were planning to kill us."

Kris and daughter gasped in shock. The people they had helped had turned on them. They didn't want to believe it, but they knew it was true by the way Al looked.

"Don't go outside and don't look out the windows to the backyard till I say you can." he told his family.

"Why?" asked Sam.

"Just don't!" he shouted, "You don't want to see it, trust me."

Al went to his bedroom, taking his shotgun with him. The visions of what had just happened played across his vision as clear as they wear when he first saw them. They all went to bed, tried to put the day behind them. It wasn't easy to sleep till the crunching and squishing sounds stopped. When they did and the sound of wing flaps fading away signaled the end to the horror that was taking place outside their home, they could finally rest. Not that there was much rest to be had, but what little they got was precious and needed for the day ahead.

The next few days went by like normal on the farm. The night time deliveries were a bit less frequent, but they still came none the less. The family just tried to put what had happened out of sight and out of mind. The bloody stain of where the man was devoured was tilled under to keep it from weighing on their minds. Looks of grimness were on their faces and it came to light two days later around the dinner table after they sat down to enjoy their meal of chicken and rice.

"Dad?" warily asked Sam as she looked up from her plate, "It was him wasn't it?"

All looked back into his daughter's eyes, fear gripped his weary heart.

"I don't know, I can't say for sure." he lied, trying to protect his family's hard strung moral fiber.

"I looked out my window Dad." she sadly replied, "I saw him and what he was doing."

Al's shoulders slumped down and he looked even wearier than he was before. He just wished she hadn't seen with her own eyes what he saw as well that night. He hoped against hope that it wasn't true, but he saw what he saw. He knew it was true and worse still, his daughter had seen it too.

"I told you not to look." he growled at her, then eating a piece of meat from his plate.

"I looked because I've already seen him before and you know it!" she shouted back, "Why?! Why did you force him to be that way?! He wasn't that way before! He wasn't like that monster! You did that to him! It's your fault!"

"You think I don't know that?!" he bellowed back, Kris just sitting in her chair crying at the fighting, "There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret what I told him to do that night! I saw him and I sent him away! I feared for the lives of the people here at this table right now! I was protecting you! I am protecting you! I didn't know that he needed protecting as well! I saw him that night; I saw what has become of him! You think I didn't fear that! Fear seeing the consequences of that night! Go to your room and eat in there! I'm done with you!"

Sam in a fit of anger slammed he fist into the table and screamed back,

"He's not too far gone; we can save him if you'd just let us go to him! He's been dropping us supplies all this time. There is something left of him in his heart! Just let us go find him and bring him home!"

"NO!" he shouted, "He's a monster now, he's one of them! He'd eat you as soon as look at you!"

"He didn't eat you!" she shouted right back, he face flushed red with rage, "He wouldn't hurt us, he wants to protect us and come home!"

"He can't come home!" ordered Al, his fists slammed into the table so hard the opposite side lifted up a bit, "Not now! Not EVER! He is to remain off the property just like I ordered him to!"

"He saved our lives!" Kris shouted, tears running down her red cheeks, "You still think he's a monster after that?!"

"He ate that man! He ripped him to pieced like an animal to its prey and then ate him!" he screamed, "He's tasted human flesh! He looked like he's done it before! He's one of them and never will be able to live with us ever again! We're just prey to him now!"

"You are blind and you are just convinced you are right without seeing the truth!" shouted Sam, even more rage filled at her father's words, "Ever since that day, you never could see him as your son anymore could you?! He came home after that black stone crumbled on his hand and turned him into a dragon, you never saw your son in him! He was begging you for compassion! He was begging for you not to turn him away when all his friends at the airsoft operation turned on him because of that loud mouth Ted. They all through stones and shot at him as he pleaded for them to stop, that he meant no harm. I brought him home that morning after they tried to smother him in his sleep in the night. I took him home in the hopes that his parents would accept him. And what did you two do?! You sent him away! Told him to get away from you! Called him a beast, a monster! Less than human! You did that to him! You had the chance to save him and you pissed it away! No look at what you've done! You made him that monster! He wasn't a monster when you saw him, you did that to him!"

Sam just grabbed her plate of food and glass of water then got up and went to her bedroom, leaving her parents sitting at the dinner table to think about her words. They knew that dragon that was watching over them was their only son. They thought they had lost him the day in July that he came home looking like a monster. They feared him, feared his black scales, razor sharp black claws and white fangs. That sharp black tail blade just made him even more dangerous. His yellow wing membranes and black scales wing fingers with frills on the sides of his draconic head to match that seemed to be his ears. Two long black horns protruded from the back of his skull and a row of black spikes ran down his spine to his tail tip. She could even remember the dark blue tiger like strips that ran over the top half of his body.

Sam was the only one that really couldn't get that image out of her mind. Her parents have let it go to the back of theirs so it would not stain the image of their son's smiling face with that of a monster. However, Sam never thought the dragon's face stained anything until they forced him to flee and live the life he had to just to survive. The pleading look on the black dragon's face haunted her dreams since that day. Him falling to his knees, begging to be taken in and the looks of suspicion and fear on her parent's faces as they cast him aside as nothing more than a dangerous animal.

She ate the rest of her food quickly; she needed the strength for what she had finally settled on doing. Putting her plate on her nightstand and retrieving a small worn, wooden box from under her bed where she had something hidden since that day.

"I'm sorry it took me this long Ethan, I should have done this a long time ago." She said as she opened the box.

Lying in the dusty bottom was a piece of paper. She pulled it out and opened it. On it was a map, the location of her brother's cave in the Alton buffs. They used to go there and explore them on his first days in college. Those old limestone caves were deep, but unstable. That made them perfect for a quiet dragon to hide in. She just gathered a few supplies in her backpack, opened her bedroom window as quietly as she could and climbed out into the failing evening night. She slinked he way to the garage and slipped her blue mountain bike out, mounting it and pedaling off down the driveway. She got to the end of the road, open the gate and glanced back at the house one time, seeing the lights were still on in the dining room.

"I'll do what you two can't." she said with a huff, "I'll get him back to his old self."

Gravel flew as she drove the pedal down hard and took off down the road as night fell.

Using her own natural night vision, which was always oddly better than average, she pressed forward. She could have used a flashlight, but that would only attract attention to herself as she made her down the road. The stars came out to greet the biker, guiding her along the desolate road. The sounds of crickets and owls in the night were a good sign. These animals went silent when a dragon was nearby.  

It was a two hour ride and she has begun to lose steam. She couldn't pedal anymore and turned into a driveway of an abandoned house. It was a little square home with wood siding painted blue. It would have been a nice, chipper little home if it wasn't for the smashed out front door and claw marks on the door jams. She warily made her way inside. The stench of old blood welcomed her once she was close enough to smell it. She looked around and found it everywhere.  On the walls, on the furniture, splattered on the TV which was smashed in, but nothing else remained of the occupants of the home. She made her way around the old home, looking for anything she could use. A glitter of something on the floor in the moonlight got her attention.  She bent down and picked it up.

"A brass casing." She said to herself, "Where there is a spent round, there must be a gun."

She looked around even harder now, working her way through each room before finding the basement door and descending the stairs, a metal tink sound on the cement made her look down. Another brass casing was on the stairs. With confidence that the weapon had gone this way, she pressed on. Reaching into her backpack and pulling out a flashlight, she shined it around the dark and dank basement. More blood was on the walls and over the water heater. Sam warily moved forward till she walked around the water heater to find a large pool of dried blood, but also a large safe that was just hanging open slightly. Slowly she walked up to it and pulled it open.

"Jackpot." She said with a smile.

Inside the safe was a rack of rifles and pistols. She moved her foot and it hit something heavier. She shown the flashlight on it and found the weapon the previous occupants had used to defend themselves. It was a small caliber, snub nosed revolver. Mostly looking like what a lot of detectives in movies carry.  

"No wonder he was coming here, that thing is worthless against a dragon." She remarked as she just went back to looking at the gun safe.

There were 2 small caliber hunting rifles, a .50 caliber deer rifle with a large scope on it and a civilian M4 carbine. Two .45 caliber M1911s Government Issue pistols and a .357 magnum revolver sat on a shelf above the rifles. She wasted no time in grabbing the heavy scoped rifle, the M4 and all 3 pistols, taking all the ammo that was in the case with her in her backpack, lashing the weapons to the sides for ease of travel. A set of holsters for the pistols were also in the safe, those were quickly adjusted and strapped on her body. The .45s tucked into the under the arms dual holsters and the revolver strapped to her hip with a. old western style gun holster belt.

"Looks like this guy was a western nut." she remarked as she loaded the bullets into the slots on the belt and buckled it around her waist, "Good for me I guess."

Once she was loaded up, she started to walk out. The weight of all her new acquisitions was instantly apparent. When she got upstairs, she looked at the garage with a wry grin.

"Let's find out." She quietly said as she walked over to the garage.

Sam poked her head up and looked into the small window on one side of the stand alone garage. Nothing but darkness was there.  She drew one of her Colts and slid the magazine out to double check the ammo. It was full and she slid it back in, holding the magazine release button down to avoid making a sound. Once she knew her weapon would be ready to fire, she took her flashlight in hand and poked up again, but just the flashlight shown inside the window. She withdrew it moments later and listened if anything was started inside. Silence came, so she dared to take a look. She poked her head up and shown the flashlight inside to see what was within. It seemed to be empty, but then she spotted something. She panned over it and smiled.

"A dirt bike, a nice big one." she said in satisfaction, "It may be noisy, but it's fast."

She slinked her way inside the garage and over to the parked bike. She just gave a low whistle at the blue and white machine that was her ticket to getting where she needed to go in good time. The key wasn't in the ignition, but after shining her flashlight around the garage, she found the key on a peg board.

"Finder's keeper's." she said as she wheeled the back outside through the same door she came in through.

Using the large rolling door would attract too much attention too fast; the dirt bike would be noisy enough. It was full of gas; the gauge read full when she checked it and opened the gas tank's lid and visually confirmed it. She threw a leg over the seat of the bike and put the key in the ignition.

"Please start quickly." she pleaded to the bike.

She tensed her hand over the throttle, ready to gun it when the bike started. She gave a glance around the scene, looking for anything that was just waiting for her to be distracted. She saw nothing and just quickly turned the key. The bike's starter protested at first, sputtering to life with a cough and slow whine as it turned the pistons. The engine cranked and cranked, struggling to start.

"Come on, come on." she groaned at the bike, wincing at the very loud noise it was making and not starting.

A very loud roar sounded off in the distance. A dragon had heard her.

"Shit." she growled, cranking the engine harder and working the gas.

The bike kicked into gear, its engine caught a lick and took off. Sam smiled a wry grin, gunned the engine twice to make sure it was ready and then shifted it into gear, leaving a long tire mark on the blacktop driveway as the tires found the open road and she sped off into the night.

The bikes lone headlight cut through the darkness, the road zipping along beneath her tires. She wanted to get as far away from that house as she could, maybe outrun that dragon that had heard her.

"I gotta get to the buffs." she said, squeezing her legs tightly to the sides of what was now her dirt bike.

Another loud roar came from behind her, it was closer this time. She chanced a backward glance to see a large dark shape in the night sky. It was following her. Her eyes widened in terror, she looked ahead again and hit the gas as hard as she could, leaning forward to keep herself going as fast as possible.

A sound of rushing air came next; the dragon was going to try a diving attack on the night rider. Sam yanked the handle bars to the right and drove off the road just as the beast's claws swiped at her. It roared in anger as its midnight snack evaded it. Sam chanced a glance at her pursuer as it flew ahead of her. The dragon was at least 25 feet long and silver in color, all silver with two long and straight horns out of the back of its skull. It swung its head around and glared right back at her with its red, reptilian eyes just glowing with hate.

"Follow me in here jerk." she taunted the enraged animal as it snarled in return, gliding back around for another pass.

She drove the off road bike hard and fast into the cover the forest just off the side of the road. The dragon kept making passes over her head, trying to find a way to grab her from above.  It was no use as she tore through the dark woods as fast as she could, using the solitary headlight to guide her away from any danger on the ground. The roars stopped and the sounds of the dragon over her head ceased. She thought she had lost it or it had given up on making her into a late night snack. She smirked a cocky grin as she pressed on, claiming up and down the wooded kills and through the bushes and undergrowth.

She plowed through a stand of tall weeds and suddenly she realized that she had been riding through a wind break forest between old corn fields and was now riding on open grassland of what was once a thriving cornfield. A loud and very close roar came from behind her. The dragon was back on her tail. She hit the throttle wide open and charged to where she thought the road was.

"Maybe I can outrun you." She said to herself, breathing heavily as if the dragon's hot breath was breathing down her neck.

She squeezed her legs tighter onto the bike when she spotted the asphalt road. Once she hit the drainage ditch, the bike leapt into the air and landed with a bone jarring impact onto the road's flat and hard surface. A loud swoop and gust of air soon followed as the dragon tried to grab her. This time it manages to hit the back of her bike and caused her to lose control of it.

"Shit!" she shouted as the bike wobbled back and forth from even the light graze it took.  

She fought to control the bike and at the cost of making her wrists sore, she brought the bike back under control. She breathed a sigh of relief and the gunned the engine hard. A loud roar came from her right. Her forehead was sweating and her arms and legs were shaking in pure terror. This time she wasn't sure if she'd be able to avoid the dragon's attack. She looked at it as it reared its head back as it approached.  It was done being aggravated by this motorized pest's near constant evasions. As it dove for the biker, it threw its head forward and blew a stream of fire at the path ahead of her. A wall of flame lit up the night in front of Sam. She shouted in surprise and swerved to avoid it, slipping off the road and ending up falling off the bike and into a ditch face down.

She just let out a groan of pain as she rolled onto her back, a wet and warm feeling on her left arm's shoulder wasn't a good sign. She felt it with her right hand and it came back covered in blood. A quick look showed a ragged gash two inches long, deep in her upper shoulder. The side of her head also started to tingle with that same feeling. She just laid down, the pain and soreness taking its toll, paralyzing her to stay where she was.

She looked up at the night sky; just enjoying a few moments of peace that she felt she had left. A loud thump on the road seemed to confirm that suspicion. She looked towards the sound and saw the very same silver dragon, walking on all fours towards her prone form as all she could do was lay there. Its red, heartless eyes just glowed like the gold ones of her own brother in the moonlight. The dragon let out a seemingly satisfied growl as it walked over to the downed human. Its forked tongue came out of its open maw as it lowered its head and licked her shoulder. It growled a bit as hit tasted her blood, its eyes rolled back into its head as it seemed to take great pleasure in the taste of it.

It regained its composure and looked right at Sam in the eyes, just staring her down. All she could do was glare back. It let out a snort of disgust and began to rear its head back. Sam watched as its head rose with slow and deliberate speed. Its mouth dropped open, readying itself for the waiting meal. Fangs ready to rend and tear the human to pieces. The dragon inhaled and its neck tensed as it was just prepared to strike when Sam's right arm moved with great speed, using what remained of her strength to move it as fast as she could will her flesh to go. She grabbed one of her two Colt .45s that was under her left arm and snapped it up, aiming it right at the dragon's open maw. She pulled the trigger, a flash of light from the handgun's muzzle and a loud bang followed.

A look of shock appeared on the dragon's face. Its eyes rolled back into its head, but not in pleasure this time. Its body went limp as the .45 caliber slug tore through the roof of its muzzle and into its brain. The round tore its grey matter to pieces as it blew the back of its skull open. With a flat thud, the dragon was down, lying dead on the side of the road in the darkness.

Sam just went limp too, the exhaustion taking its toll. Her eyelids grew too heavy to hold open and she blacked out. A dark void greeted her slumber. No dreams, no nightmares, just blackness.