The Tales of Survival

April 2023: Winner #3

Activity Name: Steal Your Dream

Prompt: Pick a nice dream you had, twist the story of it and make a brand-new story.

Type: Flashfic Challenge 

Special Requirement mentioned in the rules: The entry must have dragon(s).

Mission of the heart by DeeDeeMars

The tap, tap of the drops falling from the darkened sky was the only sound that could be heard from miles away. Miller Town was deserted, not even a dead soul would dare to wander the cracked desolated streets in the middle of the day, much less at night. 

But Zamarah wasn't just any soul. She was the first Commander of the Tell Whisperers Army, and she was on a mission. 

A high piercing scream of agony filled the air, startling even the experienced Commander into hiding behind a dirty boulder at one side of the road —one of the many that fell from the sky on fire when the Apocalypse began. 

The Third Fury flew above the rock with controlled strokes of her dark, featherless wings. Her long blonde hair got tangled with the deadly claws at her feet more than once, tearing screams of frustration off of her throat.

"Who would have thought such a legendary creature could have such mundane problems," mumbled Zamarah, watching the Fury be lost in the distance, far away in the horizon.

"It will be day soon," she noted, searching inside her bag for her GPS device. 

Very few had the luck of finding water and food after the Apocalypse, and to have electronic devices was an honor that only the Counsel of Tell Whisperers could obtain. And even they couldn't use them as much as people did before the Apocalypse, due to that whatever little electricity their old, rusted solar plant managed to produce daily, couldn't maintain their living supplies plus electronic devices alive as well.

Only Zamarah and the other five Commanders could access the GPS, and only when absolutely necessary.

Zamarah checked the route on the screen once more, turning here and there to make sure she was going in the right direction. The streets of Miller Town had been destroyed long ago, buried under the debris of buildings that used to be beautiful and full of life, but now they were little more than rubbles and dust. 

She followed the direction of Commander Kian's last location, maintaining her ears and eyes alert in case another wandering soul decided to encounter her in her path. You could never be too sure of what awaited outside the City of Tells walls. Either Deviants, creatures, or demons, each one more dangerous than the next.

The GPS buzzed in Zamarah's hand, signaling she was close to her husband's last known location. Kian had been lost for almost three weeks when she decided to inform the Counsel that she was going on a mission to find him. To say they were displeased was an understatement. Zamarah was their most trusted Commander, a valuable asset that had lead hundreds of successful missions and had defeated almost any Deviant Section left in their little piece of land in Florida. But she wasn't about to give up the love of her life just to appease the Counselors minds. 

If there was something, she was sure of was that thanks to her husband always being at her side, she had managed to obtain such amazing accomplishments.

Without him, she was nothing.

A loud sound was heard at the Commander's right, a small dehydrated squirrel ran from her hiding spot right by her feet. She was surprised the little animal managed to survive that long, but, before she could investigate the reasons behind it more, her GPS gave a final long buzz in her hand. 

She was finally there. 

A building, one of the few that remained standing in the small town, raised in front of her. Its broken doors and missing window were the proof of all the years that it remained deteriorating under the unforgivable heat and wind of the South Coast. 

Zamarah didn't waste any time in entering, avoiding all the rocks and debris that got in her way. She followed the signal to a wall. She looked with intent at the barely visible cracks that proved there was a door there, hiding in plain sight. A small pad caught her attention at her left. It was covered in dust due to the days —probably even weeks—, without use. 

Zamarah touched the pad with her finger, surprised to see the panel turn green and the rusty door move away. 

"Strange," she mused. "Why would a door I have never seen or been to open that easily for me?"

The Commander entered the narrowed hallway without a second thought. The stench of death reached her nostrils, making her wrinkle her nose in disgust. She picked the solar flashlight from her belt and illuminated the row of dead dismembered bodies thrown around the hall. 

Kian's tactical team. 

Zamarah continued her fast but cautious walk over the massacre, doing her best to ignore the blood that was staining the walls. She could not lose hope after coming this far. Kian was alive, she had to believe that. 

She did believe it, because if that wasn't the case, her heart would have stopped beating inside her chest by then.

A grave roar filled the seclude space, making Zamarah's skin rise with goosebumps. She grabbed her gun and placed her back against the last remaining cemented wall that led to an open space that appeared to be a cavern of some sorts. She counted to three and, after inhaling a much-needed deep breath, she left her cover and raised her gun to the beast flying close to the rocky sky.

A gasp of disbelief left her lips. She had never seen a dragon before in her life, but she had heard and read of it. 

She was preparing herself to shoot when an alarmed scream made her cease her movements, gaining the attention of the beast. 

"Stop!"

Kain appeared before her eyes, raising his hands, and slowly walking towards her. The dragon fell from above and landed behind her husband with a protective stance.

"My love," murmured Kian against her hair when he finally gathered her in his arms. "There's so much we need to talk about."