Not by a Long Shot

 

The air stank of sulfur and noxious fumes spat out by the volcano while civil defense sirens caterwauled, announcing danger to all within a twenty-mile radius of Zoo Atlanta.

Emily Hester was one of those in danger. She perched atop a ledge that had sprung up from the earth and now extended far above the Gorilla Compound. 

Like Emily, her companions were bloody and disheveled but miraculously alive. Cu, the Irish wolfhound, barked beside her while Lugh MacBrayer peered over the edge. Brian, his nephew, turned a slow three-sixty, gawking at the devastation. 

The typically inactive Brevard Fault had ripped asunder, creating the lofty peak on which they balanced. Lava still pooled near the Reptile House, and below them, frightened animals reeled from the shock. Some huddled inside manmade structures behind glass or bars, but others weren’t so fortunate. A screech ended mid-cry, tearing at Emily’s tender heart and punctuating the desolation. 

The early afternoon sun broke through banking cumulus clouds, transforming the dust and ashes into an incandescent soup. Peering through it, Emily whispered a druid spell to calm the animals and another to cleanse the air.

A welcome breeze lifted the sweat-dampened curls clinging to her temples. She swiped at her face and realized her jacket was no longer tied around her waist. Her purse must’ve met a similar fate. But the spell was dissipating the thick haze, thankfully taking the stench along with it.

Turning her gaze to ground zero, Emily searched for the dragon with flaming wings. It had vanished when her spell quieted the volcano, but when Lugh kissed her afterward, she had caught a glimpse of its crimson eyes. Remembering them now, Emily shuddered. It was apparently gone, but how would they get down from this mountain?

The wind picked up, clearing the remaining haze and revealing the extent of the wreckage. Employees rounded up escaped animals and tended to the wounded. Firefighters battled a blaze near the Reptile House while rescue workers loaded injured people into ambulances. Sirens screamed as they careened from the park.

A roar rose above the din, announcing several National Guard helicopters. They flew in formation toward the melee and hovered above the reptile house, all except the one that banked to approach the promontory.
Excited, Emily squealed, then wobbled precariously near the edge when the downwash of its rotors beat against them. Lugh grabbed her arm and pulled her to safety, and she clung to him as a ladder emerged from the copter’s belly. Relieved, she cheered and held on to Lugh.

“YAY!” Brian yelled. “They’re rescuing us!”

“Yes!” Lugh shouted.

Cu barked madly, and their heads craned upwards as the ladder descended slowly from the helicopter. A uniformed medic leaned from the craft with a bullhorn.

“Climb up the ladder one at a time. Women and children first. We’ll send a sling for the dog.”

At that, Cu let go of a series of yaps that carried the shrill edge of hysteria they all felt.

Suddenly, the peak trembled, and an otherworldly wail sprang from the earth. Emily’s heart thudded. It was the earth dragon, Draig Talav.

She clenched Lugh’s hand and hollered at the ladder inching toward them, “Hurry, dammit! HURRY!”
But Talav’s wail grew in intensity, nearly drowning the thunder of the copter, and Emily’s anxiety inched toward panic. She let go of Lugh to fight it, flapping her hands at her sides and sucking in deep breaths.
Then, the ledge shuddered and wobbled harder. Emily screamed and grabbed Lugh. Below them, disaster-weary survivors screamed too. Then, Brian yelled something Emily couldn’t make out, and Cu’s bark deepened.
The ladder dangled above their heads.

Lugh stretched on his tiptoes to catch the lifeline, but a stream of fire shot through the air, and the ladder ignited. The flame ran up it, and the helicopter jerked higher and away.

Above the lava by the Reptile House, the dragon rose, body blazing. The fire had spurted from its massive jaws. Emily screamed and collapsed to the ground. Then it screeched, and she clapped her hands over her ears.
An answering shriek emanated from the bowels of the earth as the whole zoo quivered.

“It’s the dragon!” she yelled, pointing a trembling finger, and the peak rocked harder.

Brian fell to his knees beside Emily. His eyes brimmed with fear, a reflection of hers. Cu whimpered and crowded near. Then Lugh’s arms surrounded them, holding them together.

They all stared at the dragon for a few harrowing seconds while it swayed above the zoo, and then the peak groaned and crumbled. Emily slipped from their grasp, grappling to hang on to anything, but there was nothing but air beneath her.

Pain ratcheted through every body part that slammed into the slope as she bounced down it, being further battered by falling rocks and debris. Finally, Emily skidded to a stop, belly down, at the edge of a shelf.
Emily crawled to the brink and nearly passed out. Below her was a yawning abyss. She stared into the rent earth, shuddering, grateful she had stopped when she did. But then something slammed her from behind, shoving her over the rim.

Agony bloomed as she somersaulted into a living nightmare. It was probably moments, but it seemed an eternity before Emily landed in a broken heap at the bottom of the chasm the earthquake had carved into the zoo.

But that wasn’t the end. Falling rocks, branches, and concrete pummeled Emily as she chanted the “calming” spell into the dirt. Talav’s shriek trumpeted inside the earth. It quieted to a low moan, and the world stilled.
Raising her head, Emily ventured a peek. Lugh scrabbled down the chasm toward her, with Cu close behind. Blood covered the druid priest’s face. Alarmed, Emily tried to crawl through the shifting rocks to reach him, but the stones beneath her began vibrating violently.

Her blood chilled. She might not be dead yet, but she was about to be.

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