Shattered (5 page)

Ten million views. Ten million views in the last ten hours.

Scarlet stared at the thirteen-inch computer monitor in Vista High’s tiny school library, scarcely able to believe her eyes. Ten million, six hundred thousand, three hundred and twenty-three—no, make that twenty-four—views of her dragon video since she’d uploaded it—a mere ten hours before. She couldn’t believe it; people from all over the country—all over the world—all logging in and watching her little home movie.

And commenting too. While some professed amazement that such a creature had been caught on tape—smack dab in the middle of Texas, no less—others were a bit more…skeptical…to say the least, posting the wildest conspiracy theories on how she had managed to doctor the footage before uploading. From comments insisting the dragon was nothing more than a tiny insect up against a studio green screen to those who suggested an entirely computer-generated beast, ripped from the popular
Fields
of
Fantasy
video game, the theories went on and on. Some of the accusations were so complicated, in fact, she was pretty sure that even a master CGI expert at LucasArts would find them difficult to replicate.

“Whatcha looking at?”

Startled, Scarlet jumped at the voice. Her hands flew to the keyboard, guiltily alt-tabbing out of Internet Explorer and back to the Civil War essay she was supposed to be working on for her American history class, until she realized it was only Rebekah.

Her best friend leaned over the chair, tossing a lock of bright blue hair over her shoulder as she eyed the computer screen with mock suspicion. “Did I catch you looking at porn again, young lady?” she scolded. “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s no sex in study hall.”

Scarlet snorted. “It was YouTube, thank you very much.”

Her friend tapped a finger to her chin. “YouTube, huh?” she repeated. “Funny, I was quite certain that was on the prohibited website list at Vista Memorial High.”

“Not if you’re using it for research.”

“Right. Research.” Rebekah gave her a knowing look. “So what you’re saying is if I were to, say, hit alt-tab on your computer right this very second, I’ll be taken to some kind of Civil War reenactment relative to your history assignment? As opposed to, say….a Two Sad Boys concert video or other such non-educational drivel?”

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Um, sure. As long as you don’t require any proof whatsoever of that statement—then yes. Yes, you would.”

Rebekah pounced on the keyboard. Scarlet tried to stop her, grabbing it back, giggling. As they wrestled over the keys, the librarian at the other end of the room gave them a nasty look, forcing Scarlet to reluctantly surrender.

Rebekah let out a triumphant cheer, followed by an overly dramatic alt-tab—just to rub it in. “Now, let’s see what you’re really trying to—”

She stopped short, her eyes lighting up as she stared at the screen. “Oh, dude, I saw this this morning!” she crowed, hitting play on the video to start it up again. “This thing is amazing. I mean, I’m sure it’s totally doctored and stuff. But it’s so freaking cool. Watch this—here’s where the dragon spreads its wings and…” She trailed off, catching Scarlet’s face. “What?”

Scarlet debated on whether or not to come clean to her friend. “I’ve seen it,” she admitted at last.

“And what, you’re not totally blown away? This amazing, once-in-a-lifetime video is just Tuesday to your sad and world-weary teenage heart?”

“No. It’s cool,” Scarlet corrected. “It’s really cool. It’s just…”

“You think it’s fake.”

She shook her head. “Actually, I know it’s real.”

“And you became a professional video authenticator when?”

Scarlet decided to go for it. “When the video in question came from my own cell phone.”

“What are you talking about? This video was clearly uploaded by…” Rebekah scanned the screen for a user name. “Scarlet-with-the-lead pipe-in-the-library.” She frowned. “Oh.”

Scarlet gave her a sweet look. “You were saying?”

“Back up a minute,” her friend demanded. “Start from the beginning. And don’t you dare leave anything out.”

And so Scarlet did, though she conveniently forgot to mention the whole “how she ended up in the woods in the first place” part, of course. Rebekah was a good friend. But she lived on the proverbial right side of the tracks, and the only family issues she had to deal with was Daddy having the nerve to deny her a new car for her super sweet sixteen and her brother refusing to let her drive his old beater. In other words, she wouldn’t understand.

Besides, how could she explain the rest? The whole dragon thing was about as unbelievable as you could get in the first place. Then you add supernatural healing through some kind of weird dragon blood transfusion to the mix? She was pretty sure Rebekah would be speed-dialing the men in white coats before she could even finish her tale.

She glanced involuntarily down at her arm. At the smooth, unbroken skin. In fact, if anything, it actually looked better now than before she’d cut herself on the broken glass. She felt better too. After getting Mom’s call that it was safe to come home around two a.m., she’d expected to be exhausted when her alarm went off the next morning. Instead, she felt great. Completely awesome, in fact. As if she were highly caffeinated but without all the jitters.

Coincidental? Or did the dragon blood have something to do with that too?

She realized Rebekah was still staring at her.

“What?” she asked, feeling a little sheepish.

“You saw a dragon,” her friend stated. “A real-life dragon.”

“Yes.”

“And you put it on YouTube.”

“As you do.”

“And now that shiz has gone viral?”

Scarlet’s eyes fell to the counter. Ten million, six hundred thousand, five hundred and thirty-three views. “See for yourself.”

Rebekah squealed. Literally squealed. “Dude! Do you know what this means?” she cried, jumping up and down. The librarian shot her another look, her finger to her mouth in an overly exaggerated
shush
gesture. Rebekah dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “We’re going to be freaking rich!”

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. “Rich? What do you mean rich?”

“Um, hello? Have you been living under a social media rock, Scarlet-in-the-conservatory?” Rebekah put her hands on her hips indignantly. “Do you know how much money you can make selling the rights to viral videos these days? I mean, two-day-old babies are scoring complete college tuitions from their parents uploading their pathetic adventures in pukeland. And this is a hundred times cooler. A thousand!” She reached down to hit play on the video again. “Is this the entire clip? Is there something else you cut out that maybe we can sell to the networks? Like, as an exclusive or something?”

Scarlet shook her head. “This is all I’ve got. The dragon was only there for a minute. Then it flew away.”

“Right.” Disappointment flashed across her friend’s face for a second then she quickly recovered as she watched the dragon spread its wings again. “Well, do you think we could find it again? We could get more video and then auction it off to the highest bidder.”

Scarlet hesitated, gnawing at her lower lip. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she said at last. After all, the dragon had saved her life. She didn’t deserve to be exploited. Exposed. “I mean, let sleeping dragons lie and all that.” She started to close the window.

“Let sleeping dragons pay for my new car, more like!” Rebekah interjected. “Come on, Scarlet-in-the-billiard-room. We could be talking thousands of dollars here. Maybe even millions. Are you so rich that you don’t need a payday like that?”

Scarlet’s hand froze on the mouse.

“Millions?” she repeated hesitantly.

Her mind flashed to the night before: her mother walking back into the trailer to face the monster. Putting her life at risk yet again because they had no place else to go. Her lousy tips could only get them a night or two in a crappy motel.

But if they had real money…If they had
millions
…

“I’m serious,” Rebekah affirmed. “My dad knows this viral video agent guy. His whole job is, like, to get people paid for their cool videos. And let’s face it, it doesn’t get much cooler than this.”

Scarlet stared at the screen as the video looped, her stomach now swimming with nausea. She watched as the dragon spread its wings, pushing hard against the ground with all four paws then shooting up into the sky.

Promise
me, Scarlet. Promise me you’ll look after Mom.

Ten million, six hundred thousand, six hundred and twelve views…

I
will, Mac. I promise I will.

“Okay,” she said. “Tell your parents you want to go to the game on Friday. We’ll go find us a dragon.”

Strata-A—Year 188 Post-Scorch

“Hey, Mom, I’m home!”

Fifteen-year-old Connor stepped inside the limestone cave apartment, coughing to clear his lungs as the mechanical door slid shut behind him, sealing the unit off from the smog-choked tunnels outside. Even the nicest neighborhoods these days were having issues with clean air, despite the Council’s best efforts.

He waved a hand as he kicked off his boots, trying to dissipate any lingering smoke into the apartment’s ventilation unit. His mother was constantly working to keep the place dirt free—a nearly impossible task when you lived a quarter mile underground. But she never complained. To even have an apartment at all—never mind a real two-bedroom with four walls and a true door—in this day and age was, to most, an unattainable dream.

“Connor! You’re home!”

He looked up to see his mother come out from the bedroom, wearing a thin floral housedress, her hair tied up in a kerchief. She looked frailer than he’d remembered. As if she’d lost weight. And her skin was so pale it was nearly translucent. When she threw her arms around him in a hug, he was half-afraid he’d break her like a china doll.

“How was it?” she asked, her watery eyes gleaming with excitement. “Did you slay a dragon this time?”

“Better,” he pronounced with as much bravado as he could muster, leading her over to the plastic sofa and sitting her down beside him. “We found an entire clutch of eggs, way up at the top of the mountain. We had to use these things—these bouncers—to get us up the steep parts. The other team had lured the mother away with their Hunter songs, leaving the eggs totally unprotected. We gathered them all up and blasted them with our gun-blades.” He mimicked locking and loading his weapon. “Adios, dragon spawn! Die, die, die!” he crowed.

And
then
they
had
screamed. Horrible, blood-curdling screams as the babies boiled alive in their eggs.

But no one wanted to hear that part.

His mother laughed, as he knew she would, rubbing his head with her hand, like she used to when he was little. “My son the Dragon Hunter,” she pronounced, looking at him with affection. “If only your dad could see you now.”

Connor winced at the mention of his father. His death had been the reason he had enrolled in the Academy and become a Dragon Hunter in the first place. It was his opportunity to avenge his father’s death and destroy the creatures that had destroyed his world.

Turned out he was good at it too, having inherited his father’s gift to sing the dragons close before gutting them with his gun-blade. They called him a natural, and he had risen high and fast. They called him a hero. He even had fan pages on the transweb, designed by giggly girls from the very best stratas.

He grimaced. If only they knew what a dirty, nasty job it really was. Not half as glamorous as people made it out to be. They saw him as a celebrity. When in reality he was nothing more than a glorified exterminator.

But he was doing what he had to, to keep his father’s memory alive and, more importantly, to keep bread on the table. And the last thing he wanted was for his mother to know how much the job weighed on him. She would try to get him to quit, insisting she didn’t need the fancy apartment or refrigerator full of food. But even she couldn’t argue the necessity of her meds. Dragon Hunter families got first dibs on supply—a reason in and of itself to stay in service.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, peering at her with concerned eyes. It was hard to believe it had been only six months since she’d been diagnosed with bone cancer, due to a vitamin D deficiency developed from a sunless existence below ground. Even with the medicine, she’d fallen so far so fast.

Just one more reason to hate the dragons.

She gave him a wan smile. “Oh, I’m getting along fine,” she insisted, but her eyes betrayed her words.

“Sit,” he told her, rising from his own seat. “I’ll make you some tea.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I think we’re out.”

Connor frowned, walking over to the small kitchenette and pulling open the refrigerator door. “There’s nothing in here!” he cried, turning back to his mother. She stared down at her lap. “I send you money for groceries every week. Why is your refrigerator empty?”

His mother sighed. “I was going to go shopping yesterday, but I felt a little nauseated,” she confessed. “And then this morning…” She trailed off, looking guilty.

Connor was at her side in an instant, dropping to his knees. “What, Mother? What happened this morning?” he demanded, pretty much guessing her answer well before she voiced it.

“I got a call from the judge,” she replied. “Caleb got himself arrested again last night. Some kind of breaking and entering.” She shrugged her bony shoulders. “I used the money to bail him out.”

Connor stared at her in fury. “That money was for
you
, Mom. Not him.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m fine,” she protested, waving a hand at him. “Remember when I used to cook for you guys on the Surface Lands—back when you were kids? Your father always said I made the best stone soup known to man.”

Connor jerked to his feet, squeezing his hands into fists, trying to keep his temper in check in front of her. “I’ll be back,” he told her as he stuffed his feet back into his boots. “Just stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

“Where are you going?” his mother asked, her voice anxious.

“I’m going to have a little talk with my brother.”