THE NIGHT OF THE BLUE DRAGON
By Andamogirl
WWW
ACT ONE
In the evening
Eyes closed, Artemus was stretched out in the bath, head resting against the rim of the bathtub. His head was the only thing above the surface and the layer of bubbles.
He was drifting off to sleep, the hot water relaxing his tense muscles when Jim knocked at the door. He blinked his eyes open, yawned and said, "Come in!"
Half a second later the door of the bathroom was opened and Jim entered the small steamed up room, holding a glass of brandy and a cigar in one hand and a steaming mug of coffee in his other hand.
He spotted Strong Bear's clothing and body ornaments sitting in a semi-folded pile on the dresser and in front of a foggy mirror, and pulled up a stool.
He set it down next to the large bathtub and said, "I came to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep and drowned and I brought you this, Artie. Two things you love. Coffee is not included, because I made it and you hate it. It's only for me."
Smiling, Artemus moved into a sitting position and reached out, wincing as his shoulder and arm were aching, like the rest of his body, and he accepted the cigar – end clipped and already lit, the smoke spiraling up - and the glass of the amber liquor filled to the rim. "Thank you, Jim. It will help me to relax a bit more."
Jim smiled. "That's what I was thinking."
The heavy scent of tobacco hit his nose – replacing the citrus fruit scent of the soap bubbles - and Artie inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in pleasure. The Ybor 'El Principe de Gales' smelled absolutely wonderful. "It's one of my favorite cigars, thank you, Jim." And he took a sip of alcohol. "Mmmm… Boy! I missed good brandy too." Then he pulled his first puff of smoke and slowly blew it out. "And this too," he said, a smile of near ecstasy on his lips. "I thought it would be more difficult to reacquaint myself with all the comfort of the Wanderer, but no. It was easy, as if I never left the train."
Focusing his gaze on Artie's loose hair cascading over his muscular broad shoulders, Jim remembered when Artie had disguised himself as the Texas rancher Ellsworth Caldwell, wearing a wig with long, black, curly hair. "Are you going to braid your hair again?" He asked.
Artie shook his head. "No, it would only bring me trouble. I'm going to make my hair into a bun. It's simple and convenient." Then he swallowed a little brandy.
Jim nodded. "No new Comanche tattoo?" As he surveyed the other man's upper body, clusters of bubbles slowly sliding down his dark skin.
Shaking his head, Artie replied, "None." He took a new sip of liquor and said, "Silver Cloud wanted me to have one after we mixed our blood to become blood-brothers… but I refused, two are plenty. As I have Comanche blood running through my veins now, I'm not an 'adoptive' Comanche anymore, but a 'plain' one. And I'm completely happy with my new life, even if I sometimes miss a glass of brandy and a good cigar, among other things." Then he took another long draw, lips clenching around the shaft, savoring the flavor.
Curious, Jim asked, "No girlfriend?"
Shaking his head Artemus lifted his long legs - bubbles gently popping on the water - and put both feet on the opposite side of the white, glossy bathtub. "No, no girlfriend, and no children. Being single is fine with me." Tilting his head back he relaxed further back into the 'claw foot' porcelain enameled cast iron container, puffing on his cigar, smoke spiraling away.
The two sat there in companionable silence for a time, Jim sipping at his coffee and Artie smoking his cigar while listening to the rain which was pummeling the Wanderer.
Jim finished his coffee and then said, "I put your clothes and other things you need in your sleeping compartment." He stood and added, "I came here to tell you too that we should reach the militarized border of the quarantine around Vicksburg in one hour."
Artie nodded. "I'll be ready," he said.
Moving toward the door Jim suddenly stopped, turned around and asked, "Why do you think Loveless wants to see us in Vicksburg in all places?"
Taking another long drag of the cigar, Artemus pursed his lips, blowing perfect smoke-rings toward the ceiling of the bathroom watching them slowly fading into the air. "Simple. Vicksburg is empty. Half of the population is dead, dying or has fled. Loveless doesn't want to be disturbed, besides he has the serum and he injected himself with it, so he's protected from the yellow fever. We are not. But his goal is not that we both fall sick and die a few days later from the yellow fever, he wants to kill us himself with no one to bother him. He chose the right place to do that."
Confident, Jim said, "And his plan will fail, inevitably."
Smiling around his cigar, Artie nodded. "Of course it will. We always win, Artie. Do you remember when I almost died from the yellow fever on that island?"
Jim nodded. "Yes, I do, vividly. We had been quarantined On the Sand Island Lighthouse, in the Keeper's house and we got caught in a hurricane."
Artie took a sip of brandy. "Loveless was holed up there… and we almost burned alive in the lighthouse where he had locked us in."
Jim nodded. "I remember. The lightning had struck on the top of the lighthouse, and it exploded, and the fire had spread very quickly because Loveless had stored chemical products for his research in the other rooms as well as the combustible material for the alcohol burners…" He frowned in worry. "I hope you won't have yellow fever again."
Artie nodded. "Me too, that was horrible."
Outside the rain started to fall heavily pummeling the roof and the windows of the Wanderer.
Jim came back one minute later with a crystal ashtray. "I don't want you to drop ashes on the floor you cleaned earlier, right?"
Suddenly the train's whistle blew a warning and the two men knew that they were approaching Vicksburg's quarantined zone.
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Later
In the parlor car
His long hair was still wet, but neatly combed and tied in a bun when Artie entered the common area of the train dressed in his brand new clothes.
He was dressed in a brown jacket with tan lapels, worn with brown pants and black knee-high boots over his pant legs. He was wearing a yellow shirt, a gold waist coat and a brown tie.
He smiled at Jim. "Thank you for my new clothes and for the rest too, especially the Colt Single Action Army Cavalry Model, you chose well, I love everything," he said.
Smiling too, Jim said, "My pleasure, buddy. I'm glad you like your new clothes and new gun. You look like the man you were before you left the Secret Service, but three sizes smaller." He had just said that when the Wanderer slowed down.
Artie addressed a look of mock outrage at Jim – who chuckled softly in response, a twinkle in his eyes - and like him, he looked through a window - the heavy rain coming in sheets pounding against the glass - and saw dozens of armed soldiers and their horses gathered near campfires and tents, along the railway track. They were there to prevent any passage through the contaminated area, and to prevent people with yellow fever from leaving Vicksburg, the two men thought at the same time.
The train came to a screeching halt a couple of minutes later.
Shortly after there was a knock at the door. Artie walked over and opened it to two soaking-wet cavalry officers standing on the rear platform, dripping water.
He smiled and said, "Good evening officers. I'm Artemus Gordon, special agent of the Secret Service, welcome on board the Wanderer. Please come in." And he moved aside, leaving the two men to enter the room.
He closed the door behind the two men dressed in soaked blue uniform coats and gestured toward Jim who was standing beside the table. "This is my partner, James West."
Holding the President's mission order, Jim moved toward the Captain and the Lieutenant. "Good evening gentlemen," he said.
The US Cavalry Captain saluted. "Good evening, Mr. West. I'm Captain Bennett and this is Lieutenant Foster. Colonel Richmond alerted me this morning to your arrival and we were waiting for you. He told me and that you have the President's authorization to go to Vicksburg."
Giving the letter to Bennett Jim said, "This is our mission order, signed by President Hayes. When will your men be able to clear the railroad track of the barricade?"
Bennett read the mission order and responded, "My men are already working on it, Mr. West. Everything is in order, thank you." And he gave the mission order back to Jim.
Lieutenant Foster intervened, "You should be able to head to the railway station within minutes, Mr. West, but there's a severe yellow fever epidemic there. I advise you not to linger in Vicksburg if you don't want to get sick and die."
Nodding, Jim said, "We know."
Once the two officers stepped out into the downpour, Artemus closed the door and then shot an outraged glare at his partner. "Are you implying that I was fat?"
Smirking, Jim replied, "No, just big boned."
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The next morning
It was a deluge.
The deserted streets of Vicksburg around the railroad station were slick with mud, puddles spreading rapidly across the waterlogged ground.
Glancing around him protected from the rain under his white hat and black oilskin poncho, Artemus said, "It looks like the whole area was abandoned by its inhabitants."
Looking around him once again, his hand resting on his gun, Jim replied, "You're right, Artie. It looks like a ghost town. There's no one here. They all left."
The two men crossed the street as the rain splattered on them, the saturated ground squelching beneath their boots, heading toward the saloon called the 'Golden Card', the rain coming down like a waterfall, zigzagging between the puddles and jumping above them but they couldn't avoid the sticky mud covering their boots with fresh layers of muck.
Once in front of the immobile swinging door, they looked inside and noticed there was no one inside, no patrons and no waitresses and no one behind the piano and the bar.
Lowering his hand on the stock of his long-barreled Colt holstered at his side, Artie said, "Loveless arranged to rendezvous here to give him the ten million dollars in gold bars. We're here but without the gold bars."
Jim nodded. "And our mission is to find the serum and arrest Loveless. It's going to be 'an easy mission for experienced and talented men' like us, the President told me."
Harrumphing Artie said, "Sure! Easy to say, not easy to do."
They entered the saloon. Once inside, sheltered from the rain and warm humidity, the two agents quickly surveyed the place. A few tables had been knocked over, a few chairs too. The dusty soil was covered with dried muddy footprints that went in all directions. Glasses were left on the floor, as well as bottles, cards and poker chips. There were also ashtrays, ash and cigar studs scattered on the floor. On the bar they saw bottles of whiskey half empty, glasses still filled, and others empty.
Everything indicated that everyone left in haste.
Shaking his hat, droplets hitting the wooden floor, Artie said, "They all left in a hurry, probably after someone who was sick entered here, or died here..." Then he removed his dripping poncho and folded it on the back of a chair.
Jim nodded. "Probably."
Artemus dropped his Stetson on a table, next to a corked bottle of Kentucky bourbon whiskey. Sitting down on a chair he added, "No one will bother us here, as the place is empty, and this part of the city too." He quickly removed the cork and watched Jim settle two dusty glasses on the table. "Just perfect!"
Looking around him at the deserted saloon Jim asked,. "I wonder how long Loveless will make us wait before he chooses to show himself?" Then he took off his own poncho and wet hat and placed them on a nearby table, next to a candle holder containing an almost melted candle and an ashtray filled with cigar butts.
Pouring the liquor into the glasses, Artie replied, "I don't know. But as usual, he's gonna do a 'grand entrance'. I propose to wait for him while drinking bourbon and playing cards, I saw a deck on one of the tables at the bottom… " And smiled when he saw Jim shake his head. "I promise not to cheat!"
Lifting his glass, Jim said, "You always cheat," and he took a sip. The alcohol burned its way down his throat and then settled in his belly – giving him immediate cramps. His face screwed up. "Good grief that's awful! It's like drinking liquid lava."
Imitating Jim, Artie took a sip of whiskey and then he licked his burning lips! "It's not that bad!" He let out as the alcohol burned his insides, and he set his glass down on the table. "It's not the best Bourbon I ever drank, but it's not that bad."
Affronted, Jim crossed his arms over his chest with a frown on his face and he said, "You can't drink my coffee yet drinking this abomination doesn't bother you? Let me tell you that I feel insulted." Then he pursed his lips together in a tight line.
Eyes twinkling playfully Artie replied, "I wouldn't call that thing 'coffee' but ultra-bitter dark molasses. It's not coffee so don't feel insulted." He picked up his half-full glass and drained it in one gulp. Then he slapped the glass back down beside Jim's. "Waaah! That could bring anybody back from the grave!"
He poured himself a second glass and slowly downed half of it. Jim pulled out a cigarillo from the inner pocket of his blue bolero jacket.
He bit the end, placed it in an ashtray and lit a match against the table. He rolled the small cigar over the flame taking a long draw before letting the smoke out from his mouth.
Circling his glass slowly with a fingertip, Artie asked playfully, "You don't mind if I play Solitaire?" Then without waiting for Jim's response, he stood and headed toward the table where he had spotted a pack of cards. He heard his partner say, "Be my guest" and smiled.
He was coming back to the table where Jim was still sitting, his boots, caked with layers of mud, propped on the table, smoking his cigarillo and making smoke rings when he stopped abruptly, his vision blurring, his head pounding, his legs wobbly like jelly.
He didn't quite feel all right.
He frowned and felt his skin prickle. "What?" And alarm bells started to ring in his head.
Looking at his best friend who was staggering like he was drunk, Jim said, "You shouldn't have drunk that awful bourbon, Artie. You're not accustomed to drinking alcohol anymore. You only drank water for a year!" Then he realized that in his state Artie was unable to do anything. "Okay, let's go back to the Wanderer. We'll come back here later when you'll have slept off your liquor."
Shaking his head, trying to clear his double-vision, Artie collapsed on a chair. "'S'not that…" He tried to stand but his whole body felt like it was liquefying. It was far too warm and the air seemed suffocating. He had experienced that before, the many times he had been drugged, he thought. "Not… drunk," he slurred. "Drug… ged." He slumped limply on the table, his eyes glassy and unfocused, then he slid to the side like a ragdoll and lay prostrate on the dirty floor.
Jim's spine stiffened.
He stood in a flash and rushed toward his partner, swaying from side to side – he too had been drugged he realized.
He crouched beside his partner and noticed that Artemus was unconscious and that his breathing was shallow and quick. "Artie! Wake up buddy!" He shook the older man's shoulder but Artie didn't regain consciousness. He didn't even twitch.
He stood and looked at the bottle of bourbon and at the two glasses. "The bourbon is drugged… Loveless did it again." He said his words sluggish, as it wasn't the first time Artemus and he had been neutralized that way. He pulled out his gun, the room spinning around him. "Drank it too… Where are you Loveless?" He looked around him at the deserted saloon his vision graying at the edges. "Where are you? Show yourself!"
Silence.
Or almost. The downpour was now accompanied by the sound of a distant thunderstorm and the sky was darkening by the minute.
Feeling very weak Jim suddenly fell forward on his knees to the wooden floor and slid to the side, dark spots invading his vision. He could feel his consciousness slipping away.
He dropped his revolver to the floor which slid under a chair. "No," he rasped, trying to grab it, but his hand didn't respond. He was closing his eyes when he heard Loveless's gleeful cackling.
Darkness enveloped him.
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Later
In Colonel Vautrain's manor
In the parlor room
Dr. Miguelito Loveless looked down at his prisoners, dressed in their underwear, sitting bound hand and foot at his feet and slowly regaining consciousness.
Blinking his eyes open, Jim was the first to wake and feeling groggy and dizzy, he looked up with bleary eyes at a blurred silhouette he recognized nonetheless.
Loveless smiled. "Good morning Mr. West. It's always a pleasure to meet you," he said as he watched Artemus half-opening his eyes. "And good morning to you too, Mr. Gordon."
His vision clearing, trying to shake the wooziness from his brain, Jim replied, with a throaty voice, his mouth painfully dry. "The pleasure is all yours."
The small man chuckled. "No gold bars for me? I'm so disappointed. But the bottom line is that the two of you are here. Let me guess, you came to stop me and get the serum and once in prison, to avoid being hanged, I will agree to make a large quantity of it to cure everyone with yellow fever and vaccinate others so that they don't get sick in turn, right?" He grinned. "You failed. And I won't give the serum to anyone."
Jim turned toward Artie blinking tiredly, noticing that he was half-naked and that he was also just dressed in his short underwear. "You okay?"
Shaking his head Artemus rasped, "No, not okay… feel like I was… ran over by a herd of buffalos… and feeling sick… " His head hurt. Everything was blurred. As he couldn't get his eyes to focus, he closed them and gritted his teeth against a sudden wave of vertigo and nausea that swept through him and he almost retched on the floor. "S' like h'ving han'over," he slurred.
Loveless smiled again and said, "You ingested more drug than your partner, Mr. Gordon, so it will take more time for it to wear off." He frowned in curiosity and asked. "Why are you living with Comanche Indians Mr. Gordon?" Seeing that Artie was surprised, he added, "I like to know everything about my enemies in order to kill them more easily."
But Artemus, his eyes half-mast, looking bored and unimpressed didn't reply, doing it on purpose to anger the short-tempered diminutive man. "Whatever you say."
Scowling, Loveless snapped his fingers twice. "Bring me a chair!" And a few seconds later one of his minions complied.
Sitting on the chair, Loveless observed Jim and Artemus with envy and said, "You look very fit, Mr. Gordon, as fit as Mr. West. Living with the Comanche since you retired did you a lot of good. I would have liked to have a body like yours, gentlemen, tall, strong, muscular but destiny or fate wanted it otherwise, but it gave me the most brilliant brains in the world in compensation, making me the most intelligent man in the world."
Opening one eye aimed at his Nemesis, Artie smiled teasingly replied, "Is that so? Then why do all your plans to get rid of Jim and me fail?"
Scowling, Loveless replied, "It has nothing to do with my extraordinary intelligence Mr. Gordon, it's due to bad luck, that's all." He paused and added, "I have consulted all the oracles, seers and fortune tellers throughout the world, and they are in agreement, luck is now on my side."
Surprised, Jim said, "I never imagined that with your Cartesian and scientific mind you would believe in the foolish predictions of oracles seers and fortune tellers."
Loveless nodded. "True. After the last time we met – and you escaped and survived – I wondered why I always failed to eliminate you, while my schemes were perfect in every way, from a technical and scientific point of view and planned down to the smallest detail. They should have worked. I had no logical explication and it drove me crazy… Then I thought it has nothing to do with logic, but with luck. When you have eliminated the impossible, what remains, however improbable, is necessarily the truth. I was very unlucky, that's all. But I'm very lucky now. For example, I chanced to see Colonel Vautrain a week ago, in Vicksburg."
Finally the two men recognized the place – they had been transported into the past again as the manor was intact and at its height. But they couldn't hear the sounds of the battle of Vicksburg like the first time they had been there, and they wondered why.
Still looking around him Artie said, "I knew there was a reason why you asked Jim and me to come to Vicksburg in the middle of an outbreak of yellow fever. You met Vautrain here."
Loveless nodded. "Yes and also to be able to kidnap you in broad daylight without being bothered by anyone, as that part of the city was abandoned."
His face impassive, as usual not showing his worry, Jim nodded and then said, "So, you're working with Colonel Vautrain again, I see?"
Colonel Vautrain dressed in a white, glossy tunic and black pants and black boots suddenly appeared on top of the 'grand escalier' leading to the first floor. "Yes, Dr. Loveless and I are working together again", he said. Using his bionic prostheses which resembled real legs, he came down the stairs and moved toward the two restrained agents of the Secret Service. "The last time we met gentlemen was after you came back home, after I sent you to a distant planet lost in a galaxy far, far, away. How did you do that by the way?"
Looking up at the ex-Confederate officer Artie just said, "It's a long story. I'm sure you're dying to know everything, and you'll know nothing, nothing! You must feel very frustrated, don't you?' He smiled as he was ready to say 'neener, neener', but he restrained himself. He had the juvenile desire to stick his tongue out at the other man but he didn't.
Colonel Vautrain crossed his arms before his chest and let out a grunt of annoyance. "As you know, during my stay in the future, I met people who helped me to develop my power and I'm now capable of…" He said and paused, preparing the effect, savoring it in advance. "I'm now capable of sending anything or anyone, anywhere, anytime. I don't even need to find a place to open a portal between this dimension and the fourth… I just need to concentrate and… you vanish, going wherever and whenever I want you to go." He sat down in an armchair and smiled broadly. "I control travel in space and time." He looked around him and added, "I'm a bit nostalgic sometimes and I need to come back here from time to time…"
Looking up at Vautrain Jim nodded and asked, "Speaking of time, are you going to send us to the past again, or to the future?"
Noel Bartley Vautrain smiled. "I sent you into the far, far past once, and you came back, I sent you into the very distant future and you came back too – and I must say I'm very impressed. I don't know how you did it, but it's not going to happen again."
Miguelito Loveless intervened, "I told Colonel Vautrain that I wanted a 'creative' way to get rid of you but the Colonel wanted a more radical and brutal way to kill you, with one bullet in your head and one in your heart, to be sure you are dead. But we reached a compromise. He accepted using his power to transport you through time – and in a situation where you would have zero chance to survive – to satisfy my demand, and after a couple of days he will bring you back to see if you are still alive. And if you are, which I doubt very much, he'll shoot you, purely and simply. Somehow you'll both be dead, and we'll be very happy to be rid of you."
Eyes darkening Colonel Vautrain added, "And I hope you will survive so that I have the personal pleasure of killing you Mr. West and Mr. Gordon – right here, where you should have died in the first place – but thanks to the Union's artillery, you didn't."
Remembering what had happened, Jim said, "Then bring us back before it happens in order to kill us there, but it could be very dangerous, you could be killed this time."
Colonel Vautrain looked at Loveless and said, "I think it's time for our guests to get ready for their travel in time and space."
Dr. Loveless nodded and pulled out a box from his right pocket of gray jacket. He opened it and took the pre-filled syringe which was kept inside. "It's a sedative, because I don't want to spoil the surprise for you. The place you're going to go is very surprising, but you'll find out soon enough. Enough talking!" Then he moved toward James West.
He pressed the needle through the skin of Jim's neck then he made it slip further into the tender flesh before injecting half of the yellow liquid, his thumb on the plunger.
He did the same thing to Artemus, guiding the sharp needle into the older agent's neck, pushing the thick liquid inside his body.
Colonel Vautrain smiled and then he said, "Sleep well gentlemen. I'll see you in two days, whether you are intact or in pieces."
Blackness engulfed Jim and Artie within seconds.
The ex-Confederate officer added, "And you won't gentlemen because the beast in this other world has a taste for human flesh."
Loveless cackled with glee. "It's a pity not to be able to attend what is waiting for them in this cavern. I would have liked to watch this fantastic creature devour them."
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Much later
In a world, far, far away
Jim's eyes fluttered open as he regained consciousness and a throbbing pain made itself known. He was lying on a hard, gravelly surface.
He wrinkled his nose picking up an acrid smell of fire and smoke – and it took a few seconds for his vision to finally adjust to the semi darkness and he saw above him the dome-shaped ceiling of a cave clustered with pointy stalactites.
Black smoke was billowing there and escaping through crevices in the gray rock.
Cave! He thought.
There was a soft snorting sound to his left and he turned his head in that direction, and behind Artemus, lying still asleep at his side, he noticed the rocky wall covered with lots of scorch marks and what looked like numerous dark stains (blood, he assumed). "What is this place?" He asked himself, as alarm bells started to ring in his head. Ignoring the massive migraine he was feeling, he shook Artie's shoulder and the other man woke up, slowly.
Artemus blinked, his eyes gummy and he opened his eyes. His vision swimming he craned his neck to look around him. "A cave, lovely," he rasped. "Ow! Boy! Hurts!" He groaned, a massive headache hitting his head like a hammer. He started rubbing his temples, in an attempt to soothe his still aching head, grimacing in pain. "It's like someone has split my poor ol'noggin in half…" He buried his face in his hands and added, "I feel like I got run over by the Wanderer, twice."
Jim finally gained the strength to sit up and noticed that the cave was lit by a couple of big fires. His ears strained for any sign of life, but heard nothing except for the crackling of the large flames.
In the dim light he saw that human bones littered the ground everywhere, as well as many pieces of what looked like slashed pieces of cloth and cracked medieval knight's armor and also many piles of cold ash - and chills ran up his spine.
Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong, he thought warily.
He thought, bears killed them all and devoured them!
He noticed too that his ankles were caught in shackles and saw that his partner was equally restrained like this too. "I think I know 'when' Vautrain sent us – during the Middle-Ages." He looked down at his best friend and pulled him into a sitting position. "I guess it's better than ending up crushed by mammoths or kidnapped by extraterrestrials."
Glancing around him, Artemus took in his surroundings as his vision adjusted to the weak light of the cave. After half a minute he said "Well, it looks like we ended up in the Middle-Ages… Many knights were slaughtered here…" He frowned in worry. "By what? bears? Other predators? I propose we get out of here before meeting what killed them."
Concerned too, Jim nodded, "I'd like that, but how?"
Artemus pulled out a hair pin from his bun and used it to skillfully and rapidly unlock his shackles. "And voilà!" He gave the hair pin to Jim and then pulled out a folding knife also from his bun. He unfolded it, making Jim smile, then he stood. "Like this. Let's get out of here!"
Standing in his turn, his ankles freed, Jim asked, "Do you have something else hidden in your bun Artie? And by the way, that was a great idea!"
Smiling proudly Artemus pulled out a small gun from his loosened bun, a Remington Model 95, a double-barreled pocket pistol. "Yes, I have."
Jim grinned. "I always knew you were a resourceful man. Well done!"
His long hair now loose and reaching his shoulders, Artie chuckled and said, "I knew that Loveless would get rid of our clothes so we wouldn't be able to keep gadgets hidden in them, he's so predictable! So I chose to transform my bun into a mini arsenal." And he placed the Derringer in Jim's hand. "Make good use of it, Jim! There are only two bullets inside."
Falsely upset, Jim scowled and said, "What? No other bullets? You have enough room in your big bun to hide a Colt SAA Cavalry model."
Artie smiled and replied, "Well, maybe next time. I will need to have longer hair for that." He patted Jim's shoulder. "I love it! It's like the good old times! I missed that."
Smiling, Jim nodded. "Right, but we stopped doing 'that' one year ago, Artie. You say that as if we had retired ten years ago. It's not been that long." He picked up a long bone from the ground, wrapped a piece of cloth around its top and then lit it in the closer fire. "Now we have a torch," he said.
Pointing at the ground where there were a multitude of massive clawed footprints, both fresh and old, Artie felt a shiver running down his spine. "Bears don't have paws that big… Actually I never saw such enormous animal footprints…"
Both intrigued and anxious, Jim asked, "You don't know what kind of animal they belong to?"
Brow furrowed – searching in his encyclopedic knowledge – Artie replied a few seconds later, "No, I don't, but they look like lizards footprints… For example species of Monitor lizards range from 8 inches in some species, to over 10 feet in others, and the now extinct varanid known as megalania may have been capable of reaching lengths of more than 20 feet!"
Feeling antsy, Jim said, "Okay, let's move!"
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The two men headed toward the dark and damp passage ahead, slowly and stealthily, tense and alert, careful not to alert the beasts who lived there.
Artie nodded. "True, but time goes by more slowly when you live with the Comanche." He placed his finger before his lips and added, "Shhh…"
Fifteen minutes later, the seemingly endless, dark and damp tunnel stopped and they reached and passed the large mouth of the cave.
Once outside, they walked forward into a vast scorched clearing lined with high trees – gouged by deep gashes, broken in pieces and partially or completely burned - and they were welcomed by big piles of poo, a few of them fresh and still steaming, in which they spotted broken bones and pieces of bloody flesh and even a helmet and a spear head.
The smell was unbearable and they felt nauseous.
Various broken weapons - spears, swords, masses - and shredded shields could be seen here and there lying on the blackened ground – as well as armored dead horses, some recently dead, others in decay and others reduced to skeletons.
Both frowning in confusion, Jim and Artie looked at each other, then Artie said, "Big lizards don't make piles of poo this big… right?"
Glancing down at his tattooed dragon, Artie said, "It depends of what kind of big lizard… I know one animal which can eat knights riding their horses and holding spears and shields…Dragons! But dragons don't exist, they are legendary creatures that appear in the folklore of many cultures around the world."
Looking down at a large lacerated shield (by huge claws), Jim said, "It would seem that we ended up in the Middle-Ages. Or rather in a version of the Middle-Ages, in a land, far, far away… where dragons really exist – and knights are fighting them and dying by the dozens, obviously. I'm sure that Vautrain sent us into another world… With his power he can do anything. He once sent us to another planet, remember? We almost died there frozen to death after almost dying from being trampled by a herd of mammoths."
He had no sooner said that, than a low, deep and very powerful roar resounded – coming from the deep forest encircling the cave.
Moving backward as he was feeling the ground shake beneath his feet, Jim said, "They had dragons in the Middle-Ages, right?" and his blood ran cold.
Swallowing hard, a chill going up his spine, Artie took two steps back, "Legends…" He said, but not believing it anymore, almost losing his balance as the ground was shaking. "We were prisoners in the dragon's cave… It ate those knights… and one knight recently… and plus, there's no treasure in the cave, no gold, no gems, nothing. Maybe it's keeping it's hoard elsewhere."
Gulping, Jim nodded. "Loveless and Vautrain shackled us in the dragon's lair so that the beast could eat us more easily. I know now why Loveless told us we would have zero chance to survive…"
Artie took in his surroundings and pointed to the left, at a small opening in the dense forest, and said, "Let's go this way Jim! We're sitting ducks here!"
But it was too late. They heard incredibly loud footsteps and the low rumble of the dragons' growl as it approached, and felt the ground lightly shaking with vibrations under their feet.
Jim's heart leaped into his throat. "It's coming."
Paralyzed by fear the two men, became speechless at the sight of the large dragon emerging from the dark forest, its long forked tongue sticking out between razor sharp teeth made for ripping flesh from bone. The beast's wings were folded, It had two feet in the front and two strong hind legs and enormous claws and it was balancing its long tail.
The dragon was huge, much bigger than they thought it would be – and, trembling, feeling their knees go weak, they both thought at the same time, 'We're dead!'
Letting out another huge roar, the large creature covered with black scales reflecting bright sunlight except for its spiky back and tail moved forward and then it stood up, to its full height and it snapped its large wings open, smoke curling out from its nostrils.
It opened his mouth wide, exposing long, sharp teeth and it breathed a bolt of flame in the direction of the two men.
For a few seconds, Jim and Artie almost forgot how to breathe, the blood drained from their faces. They reacted a split second before being carbonized, plunging to the burnt ground covered with various debris coming from weapons the knights had used. The flames missed them by a hair.
Crying out, Artie glanced at his right arm – an arrow head was embedded in his flesh, right in the middle of his tattoo.
Gritting his teeth, he pulled it out. "I'm okay," he said to Jim.
Climbing to their feet, the two men looked at each other, fear widening their eyes. Artie said, "You have the gun, use it!"
His mouth going dry, Jim shook his head. "Artie no!"
But Artemus didn't listen to his best friend and ran toward the dragon moving his arms up and down to attract its attention, placing himself in the horned beast's line of fire. Then he abruptly changed direction, running to the left at top speed. The dragon turned around – and tried to catch Artie with one of its razor sharp claws – as he released another roar of flames.
Heart pounding in his ears, Artie dodged the big deadly foot but screamed as he was hit by the burst of flames, and he collapsed next to a dried pile of poo, his back badly burnt and smoking.
He instinctively curled into a trembling ball and protected his head with his arms as a searing pain was engulfing him.
Moving toward the dragon, Jim called, "Hey you! The dragon! Come get me!" and, when the creature turned its scaly head toward him, growling deep in its throat., he lifted his Derringer his hand shaking desperately as he fired – aiming at the dragon's big slit orange eye.
One bullet missed it, bouncing off the hard scales but the second one hit its target.
Howling in pain and growling in rage, the dragon stood on its hind legs and rose to its full height, towering over the human. It waved its long tail, flapped its bat-like wings, reared its head back, maw wide open and spat out a huge blast of fire in Jim's direction.
Reacting in a split second Jim ducked behind a rock before being turned into charcoal by the dragon's fiery breath, rolled to his side and curled himself into a tight ball, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling the intense heat of the fire engulfing him.
Soaked in sweat, he glanced at Artemus who had crawled on his hands and knees and was picking up an intact spear from the ravaged ground. "Artie! No! No! Don't do that! We have to get out of here!"
Half-blinded, the dragon turned its focus on the human holding the spear. It breathed inwards again, standing even taller and it opened its mouth and sent a wall of flames in Artemus's direction before Artie could throw the spear.
In a flash Artie leaped to the side, curled into a fetal position and shielded by big piles of dragon's poo, he avoided being incinerated but felt the intense heat … the huge beast's feces melting like wax close to the flame in the intensity of the maintained stream of fire.
Feeling the dragon's fire burnt his back, Artemus screamed and howled as an excruciating pain seared through his entire body.
The smell of his own burning flesh filled his nostrils and overcome by the sudden wave of dizziness and nausea, he vomited on the blackened grass.
Pale as a ghost Jim swallowed thickly and asked, his voice trembling, "Artie! You still there?"
Tears of searing pain streaming down his face, Artie stood, his legs shaking. "Yes! I'm still here," he rasped and then he went into action.
Gathering what was left of his strength, he let out a long Comanche attack cry and threw the spear… right into the dragon's intact eye.
The dragon lifted its head upward and released an earth-shaking roar of pain, tail whipping around wildly, and the sound was so deafening that the shock wave produced sent the two men flying into the air, their eardrums nearly busted, leaving them disoriented for a few seconds.
Grabbing his best friend's arm, Jim pulled Artie up on his feet, as gently as possible – making the other man scream in blazing agony, pain radiating through him, carefully avoiding any burns "I'm sorry, let's get out of here!"
His jaw tightened, Artie asked, his voice hoarse, "How are they? The burns, I mean, and don't lie to me to spare my feelings."
Jim replied honestly, "They're bad, but they'll heal in time… But they'll leave their mark…" And, with an arm wrapped around his partner's waist helped him to run to the small opening in the forest.
WWW
The two men stopped on the way, briefly and Jim grabbed a piece of what was left of a blue cape, and then they rushed toward the line of trees which was standing in front of them.
Now completely blind the dragon let out a terrifying roar and shot blistering waves of fire, reducing, in an instant half of the forest around it in piles of ashes.
For minutes the two men ran for their lives, the blind dragon devastating the forest around him with its wings, tail and bolts of fire, without seeing, as it was following them, thanks to their scents.
Jim and Artie suddenly stopped dead in their tracks as they reached the edge of a high cliff overlooking a wide river, standing poised there as the maddened dragon was approaching.
Jim used the piece of cloth he was holding to bandage Artie's bleeding wound. "It's the best I can do," he said, his ears ringing.
Smiling Artemus replied, "Thanks Jim," as the world was spinning around him.
Bolts of flames surrounding them on each side and spreading fast as the creature was closing in, Jim and Artie looked at each other both ready to dive off of the cliff.
Smiling Jim said, "See you down there, Artie."
Reaching out, Artemus pressed his best friend's shoulder and he said, "Or we'll see in each other in another life, Jim. We can very well end up like pancakes down there in the river as we have no idea how deep it is… " His stomach growled it needed to be filled. "Mmm, pancakes…" He chuckled. "That was fun!" And all his muscles tensed, he walked back a few feet and then he sprinted toward the edge of the cliff and flung himself as far as he could into thin air.
Taking a deep breath, adrenaline rushing through him, his heart racing in his chest, Jim jumped in after Artemus, straight into the water below, his arms wrapped tightly around him, bracing for impact.
Hitting the surface of the water with a huge splash was like hitting a wall and the two men almost lost consciousness as they sank like a stone deep underwater.
The water was freezing, and Jim and Artie pushed their legs and broke the surface with a strangled gasp, desperately sucking down much needed air.
Glancing around him Jim spotted Artie who was struggling to swim and stay on the surface, crying out, each movement an agony.
He slowly swam toward his partner – fighting the numbness in his limbs making it nearly impossible to swim - and managed to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling Artie toward him. "I'm here Artie/"
Holding his partner tighter, serving as a buoy keeping Artemus's head above water, Jim swam toward the sandy shore extending off the northern base of the cliff side, which was jagged with black pointy rocks.
Once there, sitting on the cold ground, soaked, shivering, they hid behind a couple of sharp, moss-covered rocks and peeked up at the top of the cliff.
The forest was burning up there, huge flames engulfing the big trees, black smoke billowing, darkening the blue sky, but there was no dragon in sight.
Sighing in relief, Jim noticed that Artie's lips had turned blue, that his cheeks and ears were red and he almost couldn't feel his fingers. He supposed he looked the same. "It's not going to come after us, it's blind and it can't fly anymore. But let's get out of here. We need to find help."
He helped his best friend to stand and Artemus screamed in excruciating pain from the multiple burns covering his back as he struggled wearily to his feet.
Deeply worried, Jim winced in sympathy and said, "Let's find a doctor, Artie. We have to get those burns cleaned up."
Shaking his head, teeth gritted, Artie rasped between gasps of pain, "Doctors don't exist here, only witches, sorcerers or mages… Ya, let's find one, because, boy, it hurts!" Then he took an unsteady step forward.
They moved as gingerly as possible, toward a path running along the river, Jim doing his best not to disturb his best friend's wounds too much.
Suddenly they heard horses neighing and a knight, holding a shield emblazoned with two horizontal red stripes and three soldiers appeared behind a line of rocks.
Spreading his aching fingers Artie said, "We have visitors, Jim."
The knight, helmet on his head pulled out his sword from his scabbard dangling at his side and he headed toward the two agents, saying, "Don't move! Or we will kill you! Raise your hands!" In English. He was soon joined by the soldiers holding spears who encircled their prisoners.
Raising their hands, Jim and Artie looked at each other, and Jim said, "At least they speak English," and Artie added, "To be continued."
Tbc.