The first few days had gone by quickly. Flying all night, and sleeping all day. It was a simple schedule that anyone could handle. Since they weren't on a deadline like last time, there was no need to hurry. After the third day of flying, Ray and Ben had convinced Firedrake, even though he was eager to get home, to take a day and night to rest.
"Your wing just healed, and you haven't flown in weeks," Ben argued. "We'll be fine. It's going to take us a long time to do this trip anyway, what difference will a day make?"
"I guess you're right," Firedrake put his head down in between his paws. He nodded off quickly. Sorrel curled into a ball next to Firedrake.
Ben looked around. Where was Ray? Ben glanced around, and spotted him off in the distance, cradling his rifle and putting a spare magazine in his back pocket.
They were somewhere in the northeastern corner of Nebraska. There was woodland all around them, but a few miles away there was a road, and from what they'd seen from above, also a small town. Ray was standing at the top of a cliff, gazing off towards where the town was. The sun was just rising, and lights began to shut off.
"What's up?" Ben caught up with him.
"Um, nothing," Ray said.
"Can you go on watch this time?" Ben asked. "I'm really exhausted."
"No problem, but I was going to go see if I could hunt some game around here," Ray sighed. "I'd be back in an hour. Is that alright?"
"Should be fine, just remember, you're on watch," Ben walked back to where Firedrake was and lay down under a tree.
Ray looked back towards the town, and then felt his stomach rumble. His body demanded food, but he was trying to save all the canned food he could. He had an opportunity to hunt, and he was going to take it.
Ray hiked out into the wilderness, in the opposite direction of the town. It was early morning, and the cool air was starting to swell with heat. Ray stopped every so often and listened, following deer tracks across a river, and then into a field.
Ray spotted a herd of deer grazing out in the field of lush, tall grass. Slowly, he crouched down, and belly crawled towards them. He moved carefully and expertly, avoiding twigs and rustling that would give him away. He stopped about twenty yards away from the herd, and slowly rose, aiming down the rifle's sights.
He didn't want to make any sudden movements. If he could move slowly, they wouldn't notice him in time. The deer obliviously continued eating, knowing nothing of the predator about to try to make his move. Ray aimed at a buck. He was about to fire, but then it moved to another patch of grass. The buck stopped, and Ray saw his chance. He didn't hesitate.
Ray lined up the sights on the buck's head, and then pulled the trigger. The rifle recoiled and ejected the shell. The bullet traveled far and true, and hit it's mark. The buck dropped to the ground lifelessly. The rest of the herd scurried away, leaving Ray to retrieve his kill.
Ray slung his rifle and unsheathed his hunting knife. He approached the deer he shot and stood over it. Ray had skinned many deer, and this one was no different. He cut out all the good meat, and left the rest for scavengers. Ray was starving, but he hadn't been out too long. He started a fire near to the river he crossed earlier and cooked the meat.
It was very gamey, but satisfying. Ray cleaned the leftover meat he saved for Ben, and put it in a sack attached to his belt. He washed his hands in the river, and looked at his reflection.
He hadn't showered in days. He felt dirty, and his hair was in a mess. Ray realized he took showers for granted now.
He washed off his knife, and started to cut off a few inches off his hair over the river. He dunked his head underwater for a moment, and then retreated it, gasping for breath. he shook the water out of his hair, and then looked around. Ray stripped his clothes off and bathed in the cool, clear water. Not only was it cleansing, but it was an escape from the heat.
Ray slipped back into his clothes and tied his boots on. He made his way back to their campsite, and sat down under a tree, keeping watch. An airplane streaked across the sky, reminding Ray that he was never alone.
The next day, they packed up and left, flying on. After two straight weeks of flying, they made it to southwestern Canada, and were now following the coastline into Alaska, and then Russia.
It was substantially cooler in Canada. The nights were so cold, Ray had to put on a jacket. He wasn't used to the cold, and he had a low tolerance to it. Ben seemed to be doing fine, and Sorrel as well. It was an adjustment he was going to have to make.
He thought often about when they would reach Russia. He couldn't remember anything about his homeland, he was very young when he did live there. He was also excited, but a little afraid of meeting the other dragons. What were they going to think of Ray?
The weeks went by, and turned into a month. They stopped at the western coast of Alaska halfway into the night, since they wouldn't have enough moonlight to leave North America and enter Russia.
The prevailing arctic winds go against their path of travel, meaning it would take twice as long to cross. The route they had decided on would have them land on Diomede, a small island in the Bering Straight. They passed without problem, and Ray watched the coastline below him come closer and closer.
Entering Russia was a big deal to Ray. He hadn't told his friends about his past, and they didn't know he spoke Russian. He intended to keep it that way, but the minute they touched the ground, he felt a strange feeling, as if he'd come home.
They made camp just after the coastline, a safe distance away from a village they'd flown over. The military presence there was something to take note of.
"Hey Ben?" Ray set his backpack under a tree as he zipped up his jacket.
"Yeah?" Ben sat down on a bare rock.
"I was thinking of heading in to that town," Ray said. "You know, see if there's any supplies and food I can buy."
"But you don't have any Russian money, do you?" Ben laughed.
"You can barter," Ray replied.
"You don't even know the language!"
"Why do you want to go into that town so bad?" Sorrel asked.
"Just, because," Ray stuttered.
"I don't see why he can't go," Firedrake chimed in.
"If I'm not back before nightfall, assume something happened to me," Ray took the pistol out of Ben's backpack and put it in his jacket pocket. "I mean, leave without me."
"We wouldn't," Firedrake nuzzled Ray.
Ray hiked several miles, and he came to a small, Russian village. He followed the road and looked for the name of the town, but found no sign.
Several military humvees passed him by. There were armed soldiers on most street corners. There must have been a military base nearby. The village was nothing like America. Everything looked much older, and it had more of a tribal feel. The streets were old, worn concrete. And the cars were even older.
Ray was looking around, and he wasn't paying attention to where he was going. He walked right into a Russian Soldier. It startled Ray, and he backed up.
"Excuse-" Ray stopped, and remembered his Russian.
"Moi izvineniya," Ray apologized.
The soldier tightened his grip on his AK-47, but said nothing. Ray walked away steadily, hearing the soldier who he bumped into mutter something to another soldier.
"Amerikanski."
Ray wandered the streets, speaking to several people and begged for money. It was fun speaking Russian again, especially when he had people to speak it with. He came up with a small amount, and bought several canned goods.
As he was walking, the same soldier, accompanied by another, approached him.
"We need to have a little talk," One said in Russian. Ray felt cold in the chest, and the bulge of his pistol against his thigh.
"Is this about me bumping into you?" Ray said in a not so perfect Russian accent. "I said I was sorry."
"No, it's about what you were going to say," The Russian smiled. "American spy."
"What?" Ray gasped. "No, I'm not an American spy! Well, I'm American, but I'm no spy!"
"Then what are you doing here, at a military border town?" The Russian ordered.
"I was born in Moscow, but moved to America when I was young," Ray explained. "I'm visiting my uncle."
"Uh huh," The Russian nodded. "And where does he live?"
"On Rouz Bul'var," Ray recalled the name of a street he saw on a sign. The soldiers whispered to each other, and then they looked at Ray.
"Our apologies," The Russian nodded. "You may go."
They left Ray, and he walked away swiftly, his heart beating fast. When he made sure they weren't following him, he ran back to the road he entered the village on, and went through the woodland back up to Firedrake, Sorrel, and Ben.
As he was nearing the campsite, he heard the familiar Russian accent of two soldiers he just spoke with.
"Don't take another step."
Ray spun around. The barrel's of two AK-47s were aimed at him. Ray put his hands up.
"Ne strelyaite!" Ray pleaded with them not to shoot. And then, Ray heard heavy footsteps, along with the chatter of Ben and Sorrel. They must have heard when Ray screamed, and came to investigate.
The soldiers looked at the dragon incredulously, and then at Sorrel. The dragon growled, but they raised their rifles.
"Rasskazhite drugim, mal' chikom syuda, vmeste s zhivotnym, ili my budem streylat tri iz vas!"
"I don't speak Russian!" Ben cried.
"You, translate!" They ordered Ray in Russian.
Ray sighed. "They said, they want Ben and Sorrel to walk to them, with their hands on their heads, or they'll kill the three of us."
They kept their sights on the dragon, but in their peripheral vision watched it's companions. As they waited for an answer, and for something to happen, one of them became impatient, and fired a warning shot close to Ray's foot.
"Okay," Sorrel put her hands on her head and walked forward, and Ben followed. Firedrake angrily stared down the men, frustrated that if he did anything Ray, Sorrel, and Ben would be killed.
As the two of them walked forward, Ray stayed where he was and put his hands down. The soldiers were too focused on the dragon to see Ray reach into the side pocket of his jacket. It was going to have to be quick, but he could pull this off.
Ray drew the FMK 9C1 as quickly as he could, and immediately a sense of adrenaline kicked in. As he lined up the sights, everything looked a bit slower due to his adrenaline spike. He opened fire on the Russian soldier to his left, putting a bullet in his forehead and killing him instantly. The second soldier had time to react, and sprayed bullets in his direction. Just as Ray pulled the trigger, and put a bullet in the other soldiers neck, he felt painful impacts on several areas of his body.
The soldier dropped to the ground, suffocating on his own blood from a punctured windpipe. Ray fell backwards with the force of the rounds fired at him and coughed up blood as his back collided with the ground.
Ray was rooted to the ground in pain and shock. Three bullets had hit him. One in the thigh, and two in his chest. Blood profusely dripped from his body, and he began having trouble breathing. Ray tried to get up, but felt pain deep in his chest and fell back to the ground.
"Ray!" Sorrel cried. Ben ran to him, and helped him up. Ray watched the Russian, dying a slow and painful death. He shook Ben off and limped towards him. He glanced down at the Russian, who was trying to reach for his rifle but lacked the strength to do so. Ray glared at him for a moment, and then a shot of pain went up through his body. It filled Ray with anger, and aimed his pistol at the soldier's head. He clicked the hammer, and looked him in the eye.
"Ya ne shpion(I am no spy.)," Ray coughed, and executed him.