Scorched (8 page)

The world was on fire.

At least that was Trinity’s first thought as she opened her eyes. No longer safe and sound in her mother’s old house, she found herself standing in the center of Old Oak Grove’s town square, an inferno raging all around her, as far as her eyes could see. White-hot flames licked at shops and restaurants while bright orange fire devoured the trees. Smoke, thick as pea soup, flooded the streets, as desperate, human-shaped shadows flew past her, stumbling in a frantic attempt to reach safe ground. Sobs echoed through the air, competing with children’s screams, and the marble fountain in the center of the square violently boiled over.

“Connor?” she cried, trying to peer through the smoke. “Are you there?” Her voice was raw and hoarse, and her lungs burned in protest as she waited for his reply.

But there was no reply. No answer to her calls. No sign of the time traveler who’d sent her to this hell on earth.

She was alone.

How could he do this to her? Just dump her here at the end of the world—with no explanation as to what she was supposed to do? Where she was supposed to go? Was this simply a vision of an event that had already taken place? Or had he actually sent her forward in time? Was she safe and sound in her former home, still gripping Connor’s hands? Or was she really here, her life in danger?

An inhuman screech ripped through the air, shattering her questions and rendering her immobile. At the same moment, the smoke seemed to sweep away in a gust of sudden wind. Gathering all her courage, she dared to look up, just in time to see the shadow of a giant serpent swimming through the sky, its wingspan so vast that, for a moment, it blotted out the sun.

A dragon. A giant dragon. Whirling above her, beating the skies with its leathery wings, its tail snapping back and forth behind it. From where she stood, she could just make out the thick red scales, the impossibly long claws, the razor-sharp teeth, the black, vacant eyes. It was both impossibly beautiful and exquisitely terrifying, and Trinity found she couldn’t look away.

The beast turned on a dime—shockingly graceful for its gigantean size—and landed on a nearby church steeple. As Trin watched, breath in her throat, it slowly pulled back its massive head, opening its mouth with a long, loud hiss. A blast of fire shot out and she leapt back, just in time, as it rained down onto the town square, only inches from where she’d stood. Heat slashed at her skin, drenching her in sweat.

Get
out
of
there, Trinity! Now!

She started to run—down the street, through the alley, over the bridge. Screams assaulted her ears as she leapt over charred lumps she didn’t want to identify as human and her nose was assaulted by the smell of burnt flesh. It was all she could do not to stop and puke her guts out. But to stop was to die. So she kept moving.

Bursting into a vacant lot, she heard a cracking sound above. She looked up, her eyes locking on a burning roof, reaching the point of collapse. She leapt back, but found she couldn’t dodge the fiery chunk of wood flying at her face. Instinctively she put up her arm as a shield. As the wood hit her hand, she shrieked as the flames seared her skin.

Cradling her burnt hand, she bit back the pain, reassessing her surroundings. The collapsed roof prevented her from going any further forward. And the way she came was no longer an option. As she desperately tried a few doors—all of them locked—her eyes fell upon a small hole—a drainage ditch, large enough to crawl into. It looked dark and dank, the kind of place filled with rats and snakes, but she dove in anyway, splashing through the murky water, ignoring the putrid smell, thankful to be out of the fire’s path.

As she pushed on, literally seeking the light at the end of the tunnel, the space tightened, stealing her breath. Sweat dripped down her neck and her legs cramped as panic rose inside of her. What if she got stuck in there?

She paused, willing her pulse to steady as she watched the frantic feet of those still running for their lives outside. She didn’t know what was worse—hearing the screams of terror or hearing those screams fall silent. When this was over, there would be nothing left. No one left.

A thundering outside the tunnel made her draw in a breath. A moment later, the circle of light eclipsed and she found herself engulfed in darkness. It wasn’t until her eyes adjusted that she caught movement in the blackness. A single eye, peering back at her—large, blue, with a gold-crescent pupil.

A dragon’s eye.

She squeezed her own eyes shut, trying to prevent her body from shaking with terror and giving her position away. The dragon was too large to enter the tunnel and eat her raw, but it could always choose to serve her up as flambé. Neither scenario sounded like a good way to go.

Open
your
eyes, Trinity.

She startled. That voice again! From back at the museum. And at her grandpa’s house. Could it be…?

Can
you
hear
me, Trinity? Open your eyes.

She found herself obeying, reluctantly opening one eye, then another. Sudden bright light forced her to squint and she realized the dragon had stepped away from the entrance and was now standing a few feet away. Calm, fireless, observing her with a curious expression on its face.

Come
on
out. I won’t let them hurt you.

What else could she do? With effort, she began to crawl again, squeezing her way through the tunnel until she was able to emerge on the other side. Relief flooded her as she scrambled to her feet, stretching her cramped muscles. For a moment she was so happy to be free of the confined space, she forgot she was still face-to-face with a dragon. A talking dragon, nonetheless.

“Who are you? And how do you know my name?” she found herself blurting out, probably the most ridiculous, insignificant questions possible at a time like this. But what else did one say to a dragon?
Eat
any
good
people
lately?

The dragon seemed to chuckle, as if she could hear Trinity’s thoughts. Maybe she could.
My
name
is
Emberlyn,
the voice in her head informed her.

Trinity’s heart stuttered.

“That’s my mother’s name,” she rasped.

The dragon nodded her massive head, not looking surprised.
You
named
me
after
her
, she explained.
To
honor
your
mother’s memory. But you usually call me Emmy.

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” Why would she name a world-destroying monster after her mother? For that matter, why would she name a world-destroying monster at all?

Because
you’re the Fire Kissed,
Emmy replied, once again reading her mind.
And
we
are
destined…

“NO!” Trinity leapt to her feet, screaming at the top of her lungs. Connor grabbed her, locking her into a protective embrace, his hands gripping her back until she stopped fighting him, realizing where she was. No longer in the midst of a raging inferno. No longer face-to-face with a dragon that had her mother’s name. She was back at her old home, safe and sound, with Connor by her side. Had it all been some kind of dream? But no, a searing pain shot up her arm. She looked down to find blackened skin, blistering from where the wood had hit it.

She jerked away from Connor, staring down at her burnt hand, then up at him, fury and fear surging through her. “How could you do that?” she cried. “How could you send me there without even warning me first?”

It had been real. All of it. She could have died! She could have been burnt alive. How could he just stand there, knowing he’d put her life in danger like that?

Connor looked down at her hand, his face awash with confusion. “Wha—how did you get that?” he stammered.

“You tell me. You’re the one who sent me smack dab into the middle of Armageddon world,” she retorted, trying not to focus on her throbbing hand. If a little burn hurt this badly, what would it have been like to be engulfed in a sea of flames like the others? She held her stomach, this close to throwing up as her hand continued to pulse in pain.

“But it was just a vision,” Connor protested. “A recording of a past event. Not even first hand—it came from my history reader. It shouldn’t have been able to hurt you…”

“Tell that to my hand.”

Connor regarded her burn, looking confused and frightened. Then he squared his jaw, seeming to recover his inner soldier. “Hang on,” he said at last. “I have something that will help.”

Trinity watched as he reached into his bag and pulled out a small tin, prying open the top and scooping out a glob of grease. She obediently held out her hand and he smeared the stuff over her burn. The heat cooled immediately and she found herself able to breathe normally again.

“What is that stuff?” she asked.

“Burn salve,” he replied. “It’s a big seller where I’m from, as you can imagine. It’ll knock out your pain and prevent infection. Unfortunately, it may also make you a bit sleepy.”

Connor scooped out more goop and continued to apply it to her wound. His touch was warm, gentle. His strokes even and clean. Against her better judgment, Trinity felt herself start to relax, the apocalyptic nightmare fading from her consciousness. She was exhausted, she realized suddenly, and her head was pounding. Side effects from her trip through time and space?

Once he had finished, he led her back over to the couch. She collapsed in relief, leaning her head against a pillow, trying to will away the creeping nausea. “Tell me everything you saw,” he instructed, his voice filled with concern. “I need to figure out what’s going on here. Something’s got to be wrong. There’s no way you should have gotten hurt from a memory.”

And so she told him, starting with the burning town and the dying people, and ending with the small green dragon coming in for a landing.

“She said her name was Emberlyn—Emmy, just like my mother—and that I was the one to name her that. Which is ridiculous, right? I mean why on Earth would I be going around naming dragons? Naming dragons after my dead mother, I might add? And then she said something else weird. She said I was…” She trailed off, catching Connor’s grim expression. “What?”

“This is worse than I thought,” he declared. “The dragon is gaining strength and reaching out to you through your bond. She must have yanked you out of the vision I sent you—and dragged you into the Nether so she could talk to you.”

“The Nether?”

Connor bit his lower lip. “It’s a place beyond space and time, existing in the collective unconsciousness of all dragons.” He raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “This is all my fault—I should have never opened you up like that to receive my send. But I never imagined she would already be powerful enough to intervene.”

Trinity stared at him, more confused than ever. “So wait,” she said. “You’re saying that this dragon here, inside this egg, somehow hijacked your vision and dragged me into some magical dragon world so she and I could have a little meet and greet?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but that’s the idea.”

“But why would she do that? What does she want with me?” She thought back to Emmy’s words and shivered.

We
are
destined…

“Most dragon eggs can hatch on their own without the aid of humans,” Connor explained. “But certain dragons—queen dragons, often—attempt to bond with a selected human before they’re born. It gives them an added level of protection from Hunters like me.” He looked down at his hands. “Your bond with Emmy began back at the museum, when you first pulled her from the exhibit case.”

She stared at him, unease crawling across her skin. “So that’s why you told me not to touch the egg.”

“I thought maybe I could save you from it all. Let you live a normal life. But now it’s too late. Emmy has touched you and the bond between you will only grow. She’ll use that bond to convince you to help her. To save her life.”

Trinity stared at the bag containing the egg, remembering how tempted she’d been to touch it. To hold it in her arms. To trace it with her fingertips. Had the dragon been silently luring her under its spell all along, hoping to convince her to help it hatch and destroy the world? The thought was revolting.

“Well, don’t worry,” she declared. “I’m not about to play mother to a dragon. Not after I saw what the beasts are capable of.” Her mind flashed to the town square, engulfed in flames. The children’s screams. The burning flesh. So much senseless death. The end of the world itself—all sparked by this one egg. There was absolutely no bond on Earth that was going to convince her to save this disgusting thing.

She turned to Connor. “I want to help,” she declared. “Whatever needs to be done to keep dragons extinct—I’m your girl.”

Connor didn’t answer, pulling the egg from his bag and turning it in his hands. Trin flexed her fingers uneasily, the compulsion to touch it once again burning through her like a fever. She wondered if she should mention the urge to Connor but decided against it. He might decide she was too far gone to help him and she didn’t want to be left out.

“Judging from its transparency, I’d say we have about a week before it hatches,” he told her. “We’ll need to find a way to destroy it by then. The sooner the better.”

She gave the egg a dubious look. “Couldn’t we just…I don’t know…smash it?”

“It’s not that simple. Dragon eggs are pretty much unbreakable,” he informed her. “Harder than diamonds. But we can try to burn it.” He looked up at her hopefully. “I don’t suppose you have any spare plutonium?”

“Um, no. Sorry. Not exactly something they stock at the local Wal-Mart.”

“Right.” He pressed his lips together. “Well, then we’re going to have to go with the alternative.”

“Which is?”

He seemed to consider this. “A volcano perhaps. If we can drop the egg into an active volcano, the lava should be hot enough to destroy it.”

“Oh-kay.” She considered this for a moment. “But wait,” she said, a thought coming to her.

Connor looked at her questioningly.

“If we destroy the egg,” she said, “won’t that…I don’t know… cancel out your own world? I mean I saw
Back
to
the
Future
. If we succeed, will you start to disappear?”

She meant the question as a kind of half joke and was surprised at the uneasiness she felt after she voiced it. What if he
did
just disappear? Vanished into thin air, never to be seen again? The thought disturbed her more than she wanted to admit.

Thankfully, Connor shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that. My timeline has already been established. There’s no way to alter that. But by destroying the egg, we can set your world on an alternate timeline. One that doesn’t end in apocalypse.”

She furrowed her brow. The quantum mechanics were making her head hurt. “So you can’t go back then,” she realized aloud, “because in the new alternate future, you wouldn’t exist.”

He nodded.

“Dude, that’s rough,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I knew what I was getting myself into when I accepted the mission,” he assured her. “We have to do whatever we can to save the human race. Even if it means sacrificing ourselves.” He paused, then added in a whisper, “Sacrifice one to save the world,” as if it were some kind of mantra.

Trinity opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by her phone. She jerked, glancing at Connor. Pulling the phone from her pocket, her eyes widened as she read the unfamiliar telephone number on the caller ID.

“Hello?” she answered hesitantly after putting the phone to her ear. After all, it could be anyone. The government agents. Sheriff Bob…

“Trinity! Where are you?”

“Grandpa!” She leapt from her seat, gripping the receiver tightly in her hand. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I was worried about
you
. I only left the house for a short time—I was opening up a package with my pocket knife when your damn cat jumped out at me, knocking over the Chinese food. I managed to slice up my hand pretty good and decided to head over to the clinic to make sure I didn’t need stitches. I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note. I figured I’d still beat you home.”

Trinity swallowed hard, remembering the bloody knife. What she’d imagined…

“Unfortunately they took forever—evidently Christmas Eve is one of their busiest nights. When I finally got out, I swung back to the museum to see if you needed a ride, but the whole place was barricaded by police tape. They told me there was a break-in and someone had been shot and killed.” His voice trembled. “My first thought was it had been you.”

Trinity closed her eyes. It certainly could have been, had it not been for Connor. “Where are you now?” she asked.

“I’m still at the Denny’s across the street. The police told me to stay put so they could send someone over. Evidently there are some government agents in town who want to question me about the break-in. The police are trying to get a hold of them now but they’re not answering their phones.”

No. They were a little tied up at the moment, Trinity thought grimly. “Listen to me, Grandpa,” she said in a tight voice. “Something’s happened. I can’t explain over the phone, but I need you to get out of there. Use the back door if you have to. Pretend you’re going to the bathroom or something. Whatever you have to do—just leave.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. “Trinity…you’re scaring me. What’s going on? Where are you? Why shouldn’t I wait for the agents?”

“Just trust me, okay?” she begged. “I’ll meet you by exit 13 off the old interstate. When you get there, I’ll explain everything.”

There was another pause. She could almost hear his objecting thoughts over the phone and waited impatiently for him to voice them. But instead, he said at last, “Okay, fine. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

She let out a sigh of relief, then hung up the phone, turning back to Connor. “He’s okay,” she breathed, relating her grandpa’s story. “But we have to go meet him.”

“I’ll go,” he said, scrambling up from the couch and grabbing his coat. “You stay here.”

“I should come too,” she protested. But as she attempted to rise to her feet, a strange weakness overtook her and she found herself falling back onto the couch, her head spinning and her stomach churning all over again. She looked up at Connor in confusion.

“The Nether,” he explained grimly. “It’ll kick the fleck out of you every time. You’ll need a couple hours to feel like yourself again.” He paused, then added, “It’s probably better if you wait here anyway. We can’t afford for you to be recognized, and someone needs to stay here and guard the egg. It’ll be quicker and safer for me to go grab him and bring him back here. No one knows who I am.”

“But—” she protested weakly. “I should—”

“Listen to me, Trinity,” he commanded, cutting off her protests. “This is the kind of thing I’ve trained for. What I was sent here to do. I promise you I will take care of your grandpa. I won’t let anything happen to him.” He patted the gun to his side. “No matter what.”

She chewed her lower lip, wanting to argue. But in her heart she knew he was right. He was the soldier, the professional. He’d proven himself an ally and she had to trust him now.

“Okay,” she relented. “But be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to…” she drew in a breath, “…either of you.”

Their eyes met, his steady and glowing, hers anxious, hesitant, but full of sudden longing. As her heart hammered in her ears, he leaned down, closing the gap between them.

His kiss was soft, gentle—a wisp of a butterfly’s wings against her lips. And yet it left a trail of blazing fire in its wake. And, more importantly, a promise.

“I’ll bring him back,” he declared as he pulled away, piercing her with his glowing eyes. “I swear to you I’ll bring him back safe and sound. No matter what.”

“Please do,” she murmured, as she watched him walk out the door. “He’s all I have left.”

Not
anymore,
corrected the now all-too-familiar voice, tripping across her consciousness like a whisper.
I’m here now. And we are destined…