Cowboys & Dragons

Part 9

Azrael sprinted down the jetty, his long legs carrying him away from the blind Dragongod as fast as they could. A mighty roar filled the cavern, a roar of primeval anger and malice. The Dragongod's head came up, his once-black eyes now deep cauterized wounds in his skull. In blind anger he sliced his claws over the platform, eradicating it while pulling his bulk halfway out of the golden lake. He bellowed once more, and a stream of flames so intense it turned stone and gold to slag followed his outburst. Half crawling, half swimming like a wounded mastiff trying to get out of a river, he hauled himself forward, the jetty cracking and exploding under his immense bulk.

The monster's movements were slow, but he was vast; little by little he thrashed his way closer to Azrael—and closer to me, Eddy realized. Droplets of liquid gold splattered the walls, and splinters of gold and hard stone ranging in size from bullets to cannonballs ricocheted throughout the caves as parts of the jetty exploded under the Dragongod's weight. The whole situation had turned into a living hell in mere moments.

"A hand, if you please," Eddy heard Isabella gasp. She had pulled herself half over the parapet and was breathing heavily, her left hand clinging to the rope while her right held on to the diamond. He had not even noticed her climbing up the rope. Somewhat embarrassed, he pulled himself together and helped her. The Marquis and three soldiers followed shortly after. Looking over the rim, Eddy realized what had happened to the remaining man. He was dead, his head obliterated by a falling stone.

"Let's go," ordered the Marquis.

"You go ahead," grunted Eddy. "I'll help Azrael."

Wait, who said that?

"Your funeral," the Marquis said, not even sparing Eddy a glance as he headed back the way they had come.

"Not if I can help it," Eddy murmured. He turned toward the jetty, seeking cover behind the parapet from the flying stones that ricocheted around him.

"Come on, come on," he said.

Azrael was sprinting down the jetty as fast as a horse on fire, dodging splashes of gold and the occasional boulder that whirled through the air. The bounty killer had an uncanny ability to step out of harm's way; to Eddy, it seemed as if he would sidestep gold droplets and boulders that would have crushed him at the last possible second.

It didn't last.

A stray rock hit Azrael in the back, and he tumbled and fell. He came to his knees, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it and getting to his feet again, but with the speed of the approaching dragon, Eddy knew he could not make it in time.

Eddy started running.

Following the others, he sprinted like never before in his life, his legs carrying him even faster than Azrael. Then, a hundred strides down the gallery, he came to a skidding halt and looked back. The Dragongod was like a giant ship crashing full sail into a harbor, and he had almost made up the distance to Azrael. A few more strides and it would be over. The dragon killer was as good as dead.

Eddy pulled his revolver and started firing at the Dragongod.

"Hey, you fat bastard son of a lizard. I took your eyes and now I take your gold! Come and get me!"

Ohh, that is sooooo stupid, a voice in Eddy's head screamed.

As expected, the bullets fired at the beast did no damage, but they did irritate him. The brute stopped, his head tilted in a dog-like, confused fashion. Eddy continued running, firing blindly in the direction of the monster while shouting obscenities at him.

At the very least, he was buying his partner some time.

Then the behemoth slid from the jetty into the lake and toward Eddy.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck!" Eddy shouted as he realized that his ass was now on the menu. He stormed down the hallway with his mind fixed on his goal, the corridor through which they had entered. He did not look back, did not falter. When directly behind him, the gargantuan beast drove headfirst into the wall, collapsing the parapet and sending Eddy tumbling head over heels to the ground. He did not dare glance back and was on his feet again in no time, charging on, knowing that if he looked back just once, he would be dead.

He dashed on even as a group of Incan warriors spilled from an adjoining corridor to his left. The look on their faces, a mix of awe and terror, was certainly not from encountering him. He increased his speed, charging through the dumbfounded group only to hear a rumble and feel a mighty pull of air seconds later. It tore at his clothes like a hurricane. He accelerated, forcing every last bit of energy into a mad dash. His lungs were ready to burst from exhaustion; dark spots had begun to dance before his eyes. His scared mind was just short of the cracking point.

Only a few more steps!

A roar, the crackling of a firestorm, and the death screams of men filled the world to his back. A searing white light washed close behind, illuminating the corridor in front of him and casting a long shadow on the ground.

Almost there!

He felt the fire sucking the oxygen from the air, creating a void that pulled him backward like a greedy hand. The corridor came up ahead on his left side. Salvation. He felt the hairs on his neck shrivel from the heat rolling toward him. Two more steps. Something told him he would be too slow.

With the little strength he had left, he threw himself sideways into the corridor. He had barely passed the threshold when a wall of white flame streamed down the gallery behind him, melting everything to cinder.

Eddy passed out before he hit the ground.