Carry the Flame (37 page)

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Authors: James Jaros

BOOK: Carry the Flame
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His command sent both sets of sisters swinging so hard the cranes' wooden arms moaned.

“Open the gates!”

Ananda caught glimpses of the slaves' frantic attempts to push aside a heavy wooden bar. The man at Chunga's gate shoved it all the way out first, but before he could clear the barrier, the beast smashed it open, slinging the slave into the wall. But he recovered immediately, pumping his legs madly as he pulled himself just beyond Chunga's snapping jaws.

Then the dragon pivoted and spotted the slave still struggling to slide the bar from Tonga's gate. Chunga sprinted with shocking speed across the open pit.

With the beast halfway across the sand, the slave slid the bar free and started hauling himself up the barrier with the help of guards who knew better than to sate a dragon's appetite before the big fight. Tonga slammed into the wood at the same moment Chunga smashed against it, raised up, and tore most of the meat from one of the slave's legs. Screaming in pain and horror, the man pulled himself over the edge. The guards looked uneasy.

The slave's howls were quickly eclipsed by Tonga bursting the gate open. The beast swaggered out, swishing his thick tail and leaving long serpentine trails in the sand.

“Lower them,” the Mayor yelled, pointing to both sets of girls. “Give Chunga and Tonga something to play with.”

The harnesses dropped quickly, barbs tearing once more at their legs; but Ananda's pain was overwhelmed by acetylene panic when she saw they were deeper in the pit than the slave when Chunga ripped his leg apart.

As the dragons squared off with each other, the tall man working the arm of Ananda and Bliss's crane swung them deftly above the beasts. The Komodos looked up as a stream of blood painted a red stripe over Chunga's head.

“Bull's-eye. Perfect,” the Mayor exclaimed. The slave nodded in appreciation.

The blood incited the beast, and the reptile chased the girls.

“Higher,” the Mayor shouted. “Quick!” But the cable rose much more slowly than it fell.

The sisters jerked their heels to their hamstrings a blink before Chunga's mouth closed. Only then did Ananda become aware of her mother screaming, “You bastard!” over and over.

“You see,” the Mayor roared to the men who'd stepped back from the edge when the Komodos charged into the pit, “the girls and dragons get my gladiators all worked up.” He pumped his arms as if running in place. “Everybody gets so excited.”

He pointed to Ananda and Bliss, yelling, “Go, Chunga, go!” Then he screamed “Tonga-Tonga-Tonga” like a war cry and slapped his thighs, shaking with laughter.

The lizards needed no encouragement but blood. It dripped from both pairs of sisters spinning and swinging within teasing reach of the giant reptiles. The exertions of the beasts turned furious, frenzied. Chunga rose on his hind legs, lurching upward to try to bat them down. Ananda shrank back as the creature's long hard claws swiped perilously close to the side of the harness.

Just feet away, openly awed men argued loudly whether anyone could last more than a minute with the Mayor's monstrous pets.

Ananda, twisting away from another of Chunga's lunges, knew the odds of survival were dismal—and falling as fast as blood on the sand.

C
assie gripped the heavy antitank mine in the crook of her arm. The initial stretch of cell block didn't worry her much, but now she came to the rubble. She let the lantern hang by her side so she could see whether she'd missed any little chunks, but she'd done a good job of clearing her path.

Quickly, though, she arrived at the first bulky length of broken concrete. It formed the end of an extrusion that extended to the bars of a cell door.

She placed her buttocks against the rough surface, as she'd planned, and swung her left leg up, using momentum to lift herself. The hard, uneven surface dug into her bottom, but she remained so focused on protecting the AT that she didn't notice the pain—or the lantern banging into the rubble. A five-inch shard of leaded glass broke off.

Cassie winced, then told herself not to worry.
Better than me all blown up.
But she reminded herself to pick up the glass on the way back. It was too precious to lose.

She eased herself down the other side, scaling three more large pieces of debris—avoiding falls, rebar, and the sharp severed railing—before nearing the stairs.

A cramp seized the arm holding the mine, forcing a sharp breath. Jaw clenched, she rested the lantern, then carefully shifted the AT so she held it in both arms. The right one, she noticed, trembled badly from fatigue. She straightened it, and the cramp lessened.

Get going. There's no time.

After switching the mine to her left arm, she retrieved the lantern and navigated the cracked and broken stairwell without stopping until she came to the tower. Setting the lantern to the side, with the AT once more resting on both arms, she crouched and leaned forward until her forearms pressed against the ground. With enormous care, she slipped her arms from underneath the deadly device and backed away as if it would bite. Standing, she gazed at the head-high ledge with regret. It would have been so simple to place the big mine on top of it, but William had been firm about positioning it so the force would explode upward.

Raising the lantern to look for another berth, she saw a gap between the back of the ledge and the wall of dirt from which it protruded. It looked large enough, but setting the mine there would be dangerous. She'd either have to slide it into the opening, bumping it over dirt and rocks, or try to lift the big mine above her head and reach forward with it. She didn't think she had that kind of strength.

Cassie searched the rest of the tower before taking out the knife and hacking at the ledge—the only way to reach the hole. The dirt crumbled easily, and she worked diligently until she heard an appalling metallic
ping.
For several seconds she stood unmoving, terrified, expecting to die. Then she looked over and saw a small stone lying next to the mine. If it had struck one of the teddy bears, she would have been dead.

She placed herself between the AT and the ledge, sweating for another five minutes before she could snug the mine safely into position.

Perfect.

Almost. She didn't grasp the possible danger until she hurried to William, pausing to retrieve the broken glass, and saw a teddy bear waiting for her on the other side of the bars. It looked longer than she remembered, and made her worry aloud whether the hole for the AT was wide enough for the bear.

“That's a good question,” William said, sitting with a squat candle burning by his side. “I think so, but I should have double-checked.” He gripped his chin, then told her what to do. “It'll take more time, but if you're not sure the bear's going to fit, you can dig another hole in the wall. But first, let's measure the bear against your arm so you'll have a good feel for its size.”

He held up the mine, and she pressed her arm against the bars.

“It comes almost to your elbow from the tip of your middle finger. Can you remember that?” She nodded. “When you get to the stairs, put the bear on the ground very,
very
carefully. Then go on up to the tower and measure your arm against the hole for the AT. If you don't think the bear will fit easily, dig out a space a few feet away. Make sure you check that one against your arm, too. Don't worry about digging near the AT, but the bear's another story. That's why you have to leave it till you're ready. Be extra gentle when you go back to pick it up. And don't take it into the tower if you hear the dragon. Did you hear it this time?”

“No.” She'd been so preoccupied, she hadn't even thought of it.

“Good. Maybe it's in the pit already. But keep listening for it.”

He pointed to the bear's belly, tied in wire that she would trail all the way to the tower. “I'll feed that out as you go. Just don't go getting ahead of me. I don't want it jerking out of your hands.” Once she returned, he would give the wire a tug, pulling the smaller mine to the ground so its blast could set off the much more powerful AT.

William slipped the teddy bear through the bars. It was a lot lighter than the antitank mine; but all of its extremities were wired, and she had to be careful not to brush it against herself or anything else.

Alarming as that was, Cassie still had to force herself to concentrate on her way back into the prison. She was exhausted from chopping off the ledge to get the big mine into position. William had warned her that they had the hardest job. After they set off the AT, two other teams would trigger land mines in more accessible areas. Places without bars, Cassie figured. But he'd also said the tower was the most critical location, “especially tonight.”

“Go on,” he called to her softly. “We'll be out of here in a little bit, and then you can hang out with Miranda and Steph.”

The girls had promised to wait by the entrance to the catacombs, probably with Denton. The boy followed them everywhere, but no one followed anyone into the catacombs unless they had to.

Like me.

Cassie held the teddy bear in the crook of her right arm, as she had the bigger mine, with the lantern back in her left hand. She thought she knew every step by now, but still moved cautiously, though not slowly enough: the wire pulled on the bear's belly. She halted in mid-step.

“Stop!” William hissed at the same instant. “Think, Cassie.
Think!

Slower than ever, she advanced down the cell block, no longer looking at the remains of men. Right by the stairs, she thought she caught something move. She held out the light but saw nothing.
Shadows,
she told herself.

She set aside the lantern, this time near the door to the tower. She pretended she was putting a baby to bed when she laid the teddy bear on the ground. But she still held her breath when she pulled her hands away.

Hurrying, she scaled the stairs with the lantern, burdened with little of the fear she'd faced on her first trip.
I'm almost done!

When she reached the tower, she placed her arm against the hole with the AT.
Yes!
She could have clapped.

Cassie hustled down the stairs, lifting the bear as gently as she could. In fact, she held her breath so long as she slowly stood that she became dizzy and staggered sideways. With two deep breaths, she steadied herself.

Scared, but balanced, she ascended to the tower. She wasted no time moving directly to the opening with the antitank mine—and saw her mistake as soon as she managed to angle the bear's ears and feet in without brushing them against the edges of the opening: the space was just wide enough, but it looked too shallow; she might not have left enough ledge to hold it. One of the bear's arms stuck out, along with the bottom half of its leg. Then she noticed the wire hanging from the bear, and felt an almost imperceptible pressure against her hands—a few grams of weight that could spell her doom.

She was too frightened to let go, and too afraid to withdraw the extremely sensitive mine, fearing it would blow up with the slightest shock to any of its intricately wired limbs or ears. She felt like someone who'd climbed into a tunnel but couldn't get back out. In this horrific borderland of indecision and terror, when she knew nothing but the power of a child's consuming panic, she heard the dragon. Its pounding steps were muffled, but grew more distinct every second.

She stared at the teddy bear, imagining the blast.

Go! Get out of here.

No. Don't.

But she had to move, first dropping her hands so she could catch the bear if it fell. Even that impact might blow up the mine, but if it hit the ground, she'd surely die. The cheerful-looking bomb tottered on the edge of the opening. Cassie feared the weight of her own breath. She picked up the lantern, aware again of the dragon—the
pounding.
But at this moment, the wire scared her more.

Don't touch it,
she warned herself as she headed for the stairs, knowing just brushing the strand could pull the bear down.

She moved alongside the wire, eyeing it intently with each step she took. One stair shy of the cell block, the wire crossed her path. She stopped.

As she lifted her foot to clear it, she spotted what she thought was the same odd movement she'd spied on her way back to the tower. But she was closer to it now. She held out the lantern, shivering sharply when it illuminated a huge black snake with yellow spots glowing eerily in the candlelight. The reptile slithered slowly under the wire, where the strand draped diagonally across her path from a chunk of concrete onto the stairs. She closed her eyes as hard as she could. She never wanted to see the creature again.

Go away. Go
away.

Still clamping her eyes shut, Cassie cried out, desperate to drive off all the horrors descending on her at once. But her outburst added a new fear—of a fatal vibration—that pried them back open.

In the breathless quiet, the mines didn't go off. But the snake was
still
moving. It had to be at least ten feet long.
Is it going to get me?

Her hands shook worse than ever. The lantern's unprotected candle flickered precariously by her side. She smelled the dragon and almost choked. The pounding grew louder. At any second the mines could blow up, burying her in the prison. She'd turn into bones like the ones she'd seen in the cages. Her head felt crushed by pressure, crazed with the darkest dread. She wished she could tear it off.

Her gaze lowered to the wire, as she knew it must. She had to step over it and hurl herself past the snake. But where was the serpent? It had stopped moving. Was it gone?

Alive with hope, she held out the lantern again. At the shadowy edge of its throw, no more than six feet from where she trembled, the reptile's thick head turned and looked right at her.

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