Page 74 of Talon

The alarm, whatever it was, continued to sound. Wes and Riley were bent over the computer, their faces intense.

“What’s going on?” Nettle asked as we came into the room. “Is someone coming?” Wes and Riley ignored her, still completely focused on what was on the computer. I edged forward and peeked over Riley’s shoulder.

The screen showed a black-and-white image of the driveway up to the house. I could see Riley’s motorcycle parked off to the side. As I watched, feeling the tension lining his back, a large brown delivery truck pulled up to the front and lurched to a stop about fifty feet from the door.

“Bloody hell.” Wes sighed, collapsing into the chair. “I wish these blighters would stop using our driveway as a turnabout when they get lost. That nearly gave me a bloody heart attack.” He shook his head at the image on the screen. “GPS, mate. Use it, love it.”

“They’re not leaving,” Riley growled, still staring at the screen. Wes blinked and scooted forward again, narrowing his eyes.

We all crowded closer. No one seemed to breathe, staring at the lone truck in the drive. Then, without warning, the door flew open, and several humans spilled out onto the cement. My heart gave a violent lurch. They were armed and armored, and looked very much like the soldiers in my training sessions. They wore helmets and masks that concealed their faces, and carried huge, deadly-looking guns. Only, this time, I knew it wasn’t a drill, and those guns weren’t filled with paint.

St. George had come. This was the real thing.

“Shit!” Wes leaped up, overturning the chair as he did. “Bloody St. George! We’re dead. We’re fucking dead.”

“Shut up!” Riley snarled as Nettle screamed and Remy bolted toward the door. His voice boomed out as he whirled around. “Remy, freeze! Nettle, hush! Right now! Listen to me,” he continued as both hatchlings stopped and gazed at him with huge eyes. “We’re not going to panic. Follow me, do exactly what I tell you and we’ll be okay.” His near-golden gaze shifted to me, intense and determined. “I swear, I’ll get us out alive.”

“Riley, they’re surrounding the house,” Wes exclaimed, right before he slammed the laptop and stuffed it into a shoulder bag. “We have about twenty seconds before this place becomes a war zone.”

“Wes, take everyone out through the main bedroom,” Riley ordered, pointing down the hall. “Get to the balcony, we can launch from there. They’ll likely have all other exits covered, and at least one sniper watching the front. Now, listen to me, you two,” he continued, snapping his fingers at the other hatchlings. “This is just like we talked about. Go off the balcony and head for the rendezvous point. You’re going to be out in the open until you can get around the cliffs. Fly low, hug the mountain and don’t panic if you’re shot at. A moving target is difficult to hit, even for St. George, so keep going and don’t break from the cliff wall. Wes, do you remember where to go? Can you get them there?”

“Yes,” Wes answered, hefting the bag to his shoulder before glaring at Remy. “If the little blighters don’t drop me, that is.”

“Good.” Riley ignored that last part. “Don’t stop until you’ve reached the fallback point. I’ve stashed money and supplies in the cave. If you can get to it, it’ll give you a head start. Wait for me there, but if I don’t make it, stay together and get as far away from here as you can, understand?”

They nodded. Nettle seemed on the verge of panic, but Remy was calmer now. Riley looked at Wes, who waited solemnly with the book bag over his shoulder. “Get them out of here. I’ll try to give you a head start, keep the bastards from shooting you out of the air. If we get lucky, I’ll see you at the rendezvous.”

Wes nodded gravely. “Be careful, Riley. Don’t get dead.”

Riley jerked his head at me as the human and the two hatchlings raced off down the hall. “Ember, you, too. Go with Wes and the others.”

“No,” I shot back, my heart hammering against my ribs. Doggedly, I followed him into the hall, toward the living room, though my instincts were screaming at me to go the other way. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Dammit, Ember!” He spun, grabbing my arm. “This isn’t one of your training sessions. This is St. George, and theywillkill you!”

A crash shattered the tense silence, the sound of breaking glass, as something small came hurtling through the window, followed by a blinding flash of light. A second later, a massive boom rocked the house, and a wave of energy slammed into me, knocking me away from Riley. At the same time, the front door flew inward, and a trio of armed, masked soldiers spilled into the room, sweeping their guns toward us.

Garret

In combat, everything slows down and speeds up at the same time.

The door exploded inward with the force of my kick, and we lunged inside, the muzzles of our M-4s leading the way. I took in the room in a split-second glance—bright, airy, expensive looking—before movement to the right demanded my attention.

A body dove behind the kitchen counter, and we opened fire. The M-4s chattered in sharp, three-round bursts, filling the room with noise and smoke, shattering glass and tearing chunks out of the marble. Rubble flew everywhere, ceramics exploded and wood splintered as we edged toward the kitchen, concentrating fire on our target.

“No!”

The scream came from the hall, from someone at the edge of the living room. I whirled, sweeping my gun up and sighting down the muzzle, my finger tightening around the trigger.

I froze.

Ember’s small frame filled my sights, green eyes wide with horror and fear as she stared at me. For a single heartbeat, I faltered, unwilling to believe, and the gun wavered. For a split second, I hesitated...

...and watched as the girl I had kissed, who had taught me to surf and play video games and laugh at myself, shifted and reared up with a roar, her body exploding into wings and talons and crimson scales. I realized my mistake and brought the weapon up again, too late. The dragon’s jaws opened, and a blast of flame seared toward us, engulfing the floor and setting the furniture ablaze.

I dove away from the roaring dragonfire, feeling the scalding heat even through my armor. Rolling behind a sofa, which was now completely engulfed in flames, I leveled myself to a knee and returned fire. The red dragon gave a defiant screech and ducked back into the hall as a bullet storm peppered the entryway, tearing chunks out of the walls.

There was another roar, and a second dragon, even bigger than the first, rose up from behind the counter and sent his own blast of flame into the fray. The once-pristine living room swiftly became a roaring inferno, tongues of fire licking the walls and floor, as the blue dragon whipped his head back and forth, catching everything ablaze. The heat was incredible, and smoke stung my eyes and mouth, making it hard to see. Squinting through flames and smoke, I caught a gleam of scales through the firestorm, ducked out of cover and fired several rounds at the dragon-shaped blur.

---