This is a scene from the opening chapter of my monster hunting NaNo Novel. And you must know this, the fireman in the scene, pulling out his hose and ready to help fight the dragon is my dad. He gets that cameo purely because when I texted him one day asking, "If the Lovell Firefighters had to fight a dragon, what would they do?" he fired back a very logical answer without even blinking an eye. He's the coolest dad ever.
Mae
readjusted her rifle and aimed it at the dragon, which thanks to Porter’s
ill-timed shot, had turned away from the kiddie pool and lumbered toward them.
A blast of fire from her nostrils sent both Porter and Mae diving for cover,
but fortunately the dragon’s range only extended to just shy of the bumper. It
stomped over the melted playground equipment and breathed fire again. This time
it melted the bumper, and Porter screamed as he scrambled out of the way. Mae
met him behind the Jeep, barely biting back a laugh at Porter’s girlish
reaction.
“Now
what?”
“Shoot
it,” Mae said sarcastically. She turned around the corner of the Jeep and
finally got her first shot off, hitting the dragon squarely in the eye.
With
a howl of agony (and another jet of fire that shot upward), the dragon danced
around the horseshoe pit, smashing the picnic pavilion with her tail. A grenade
exploded off her chest, merely making the dragon stumble backward and scream in
fury.
“I
don’t have an endless supply of those, you know,” Mae snapped at Porter.
“This
isn’t as easy as it looks on TV,” he complained.
Mae
shook her head and raised her rifle again, taking out the dragon’s other eye.
It stomped forward, crashing through the wreckage of the picnic pavilion and
blasted another stream of fire. It seared across the hood of the jeep, and both
Mae and Porter instinctively jumped backward.
The
dragon stomped
blindly, sniffing the air around her. “How good’s her sense of smell?” Porter
asked.
“Just
developing. She can’t be more than a few months old.”
“That’s
a baby?”
“Yep.”
They
both turned around the end of the jeep again. Porter finally landed a grenade
underneath the dragon’s arm, and it teetered sideways, shooting fire now in
random directions. Mae and Porter ran for it.
They
sprinted for the skateboard park, taking refuge behind a large, metal ramp.
From their vantage point, they could see that nothing remained of the Jeep.
Porter
shot at the dragon again, this time hitting her tail. The dragon screeched and
lunged in their direction.
“If
you can’t hit her, don’t shoot! You’re only making her mad,” Mae shouted at
him. Ignoring his wounded reply, she raised her rifle again and aimed for the
heart.
The
dragon shot another stream of fire just as Mae prepared to pull the trigger.
Porter pulled her backwards and the shot went askew. Just before she opened her
mouth to tell him off, she noticed the wilted end of the rifle.
“Thanks,”
she said grudgingly, tossing it aside. She pulled the .454 from her pants and
shoved it at Porter. “Give me the grenade launcher.”
Porter
willingly handed it over, but gazed down forlornly at the small-looking
handgun. “Will this do much…?”
“Not
really, but—”
He
cut her off. “It makes you feel better.”
Mae
grinned and turned back to the dragon. She launched a grenade, hitting the
dragon just below the chin. Thick purple blood splattered everywhere. Mae and
Porter had to jump up and retreat again as fire engulfed their shelter. As they
ran Mae noticed that several police cars and about a dozen fire trucks parked
on the highway that ran by the west side of the park. Only a few of the
occupants had dared get out of their vehicles, but all of them remained
stone-still, bewildered eyes on the maimed beast. She did notice one fireman
yanking on a hose. Mae laughed appreciatively and dove behind another metal
ramp after Porter.
Aiming
quickly, she shot another grenade, nailing the dragon under one of her legs. It
toppled over, dust engulfing the skate park as the scaly, black monster fell to
the ground.
Mae
coughed and turned to Porter. “Give me the .454.” He gave it up reluctantly.
She
jumped up and ran toward the dragon, avoiding the weak jets of flame still
issuing from the dragon’s nose. When Mae stood only a few feet from the
dragon’s mutilated head, she fired right into the skull, emptying the chamber.
“I
thought you said that wouldn’t do any good.”
Mae
looked up and saw Porter coming toward her. “Only at close range. Didn’t think
you were going to risk that.”
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