11
Circumvent, Circumvent, Circumvent
Doubts festered in his mind, but he did his best not to let them show, and instead focused on the words of his friends. It was hard. This was as far out of his comfort zone as he could imagine. Abruptly he stopped, as clenched fists in front of him flared into life.
'What now?' he wondered, a tiny part of him wishing he were at the very front. His conscience, at least, that's what he assumed it was, chastised him immediately. He was their leader and as such should act like one. He knew he'd done the smart thing by putting the dragons with at least some experience in battle at the front and back of their attack force. Nineteen had seen some sort of combat action before, and despite that being some time ago, it should in theory stand the group in good stead. Crouching in the archway of a shattered and battered home, the remains of which he could see had been ransacked in what looked like the mother of all battles, his thoughts turned to the dragon, or dragons, that had lived here up until only a matter of hours ago. Had they survived? If so, where had they gone? Would they ever return? Would things ever be the same again? Lost deep in his thoughts, he couldn't help think of his friends, Richie, Gee Tee, Flash and of course Peter, whose whereabouts were currently unknown, but were assumed to be in the company of the evil dragon Manson, somewhere in the direction they were headed. A hand on his shoulder, from the dragon in front of him, startled Tank from his reverie.
"There's some kind of naga encampment up ahead. It looks quite substantial. What do you want to do?" asked the yellow and purple tinged dragon.
This wasn't their first encounter with the enemy, and he had little doubt it would be their last. So far they'd managed to circumvent any resistance they'd found. But he was well aware that on each occasion, it cost them a considerable amount of time. Time they couldn't afford to lose. He sensed that some of the dragons under his command were itching for a fight, especially those that were battle hardened. Momentarily he questioned having put most of them at the front. They could of course lead them all straight into battle whenever they liked. But he knew that trust was everything, and that if he, and they, didn't have that, then everything was already lost. Whispering so quietly that no human would ever hear, he told the dragon in front to pass the message on that they would once again avoid confrontation, and continue to use stealth to their advantage. He watched uncertainly as his orders were passed down the line, from dragon to dragon, in front of him.
Janice knelt on the hard rock, Tank's mighty frame encompassing everything in front of her, Hook taking up position directly behind her. Although having heard not a sound, she could see that Tank had sent instructions to the head of the force. Briefly she wondered what they were, before deciding it didn't really matter. It was too late to turn back, and to be honest, the only thing that currently concerned her, was the fate of the one she loved... PETER!
Earth's surface. Salisbridge, England.
"Thanks once again for letting me know. If I find out anything, I'll be sure to pass it along," and with that he hung up the phone on his desk, used his thumb and forefinger to stroke his moustache and pondered the meaning of it all.
For the second day in a row both Peter Bentwhistle and Richie Rump had failed to turn up for work. Not unusual in itself you might think, but there'd been no communication... nothing to say that either of them were unwell, or that there'd been any kind of emergency in their lives. And Al Garrett found this all most disconcerting. Of course he'd dealt with employees just not turning up before. Some had left for other jobs, others had just drifted off into the ether, never to be heard from again. But not these two... it just wasn't their style... plus they both held considerably important posts. Peter, as head of security, was a vital part of Cropptech's protection, and knew a great deal of confidential information about its workings both at home and abroad. And although Miss Rump didn't quite have the same stature, she performed an integral role in the running of the business. It wasn't often that the company's owner was both puzzled and concerned, but here and now he was. And not just a little. Over time he'd come to trust the young man implicitly, and even now was honouring his heroics in recovering the stolen laminium some time ago by having the site of the wrecked clubhouse cleared and then rebuilt to a much higher standard than it had been before. It was no mean feat, and something that came at incredible expense. Garrett was no stranger when it came to helping the local community; he cherished and valued each and every one of his employees and their families. Sitting in his office, taking a tiny sip of his piping hot coffee, he couldn't help wonder where the two youngsters were, and whether or not they were okay. Very much wishing they were, he vowed to keep an eye on their attendance. If another day passed without them showing their faces, he'd have some of his outside contacts look into it. After all, the company was nothing without its best employees, and he regarded these two as some of the finest they had to offer.
12
A Grim Truth
A fierce burning pain shattered his brief slumber. Blinking uncontrollably, he tried to turn his slump into a more upright position. A world of hurt blossomed in his back, shoulders and neck. It was all he could do not to cry out. Then it all came flooding back. Instinctively he arced his neck as far back as it would go, determined to check on Tim. He was of course still there, asleep but not soundly, judging from the ragged breathing and whispered mutterings.
Sitting up as much as the bonds that held them together would allow, Peter delved inside what currently passed for his body, trying to get some idea of the damage that had been done. It really only took a matter of seconds. It didn't look good. Broken ribs, damaged vertebrae, two fractured fingers, a badly bruised kidney, and that was before he'd even got to his mashed face. A real sense of helplessness bubbled up inside him. With just the tiniest trickle of dragon magic he could revert back to full health in an instant, but that had been denied him... he assumed by the bonds that tethered him to Tim. Try as he might, he couldn't for the life of him see how things could get any better. Exactly at that point, they got worse.