Siren's Song Page 21

The green tyrannosaurus rex crouched into its legs, its muscles tightening. It sprang up, then came down with a resounding thud right behind us. I looked back. The second truck screeched as it swerved to avoid the beast’s swinging tail. Ben, the Pilgrim sitting behind me, fainted. Morrows turned the cannon toward the monster and shot a magic bullet right through its chest. Greenie tipped and hit the ground like an earthquake, missing our truck by mere inches.

The third dinosaur leapt over the fallen beast. Another of the Pilgrims peed his pants as its giant jaws snapped at the truck. Not that I blamed him. I might have peed my pants too if I’d thought it would have done any good.

The monster spun, going for the other truck. Claudia was behind their cannon. Our shooter Morrows preferred the brute force attack: shoot the target as many times as possible until it went down. Claudia preferred a more efficient method. She hit the beast where it hurt. And if it truly did hurt, she shot it there again.

“That is one sexy woman,” Morrows commented as the beast hit the dirt.

I smirked at him. “The dinosaur?”

“No, you smart ass. Sergeant Vance. I love a woman who knows how to handle a big cannon.”

“I really did not need to hear that.”

“None of us did,” Captain Somerset said. “Morrows, keep your hobbies to yourself. And your cannon too.”

I snorted.

“Hey, wasn’t there another monster?” Drake said, looking around.

A heavy object dropped out of the sky. It landed with a sickening crunch inside a deep ditch to the side of the dilapidated road we were driving on.

“Never mind,” said Drake.

“What happened to it?” I asked.

“Colonel Windstriker happened to it,” Captain Somerset said as Nero coasted down from the sky and landed in the other truck. “Or, more specifically, one of his telekinetic bursts.”

“I think your angel left you another present, sweetheart,” Morrows told me.

Lovely.

“I bet the colonel appreciates a woman who knows how to handle a big cannon too,” Morrows added.

“Oh, shut up.”

He chuckled.

“Is everyone all right?” Drake asked the Pilgrims in the truck.

“We’re just fine, dear, thank you,” replied Grace, a woman who appeared to be in her early sixties.

Drake had been talking to her before the monsters attacked. She was actually over a hundred years old, one of the Pilgrims the gods’ had gifted with long life. Her great act had happened late in her mortal life. She’d recovered the Diamond Heart, a necklace that belonged to the goddess Kiara, from the Wilds. So braving monsters and hunting down ancient magical relics were nothing new to her.

“The beasts that live on the plains of monsters have grown bold of late,” Valiant said. “And big. We saw only a few small fire lizards during my journey across the Western Wilderness last summer. I’ve never seen a dinosaur before. And certainly not four of them together.”

“As you venture deeper into the wild lands, the beasts grow nastier and more abundant,” I told him.

“Those dinosaurs attacked us within twenty miles of the wall,” he replied. “It sounds like they are the ones venturing. Just like in the early days, the days before the wall.”

He stroked his hand across his smooth chin. He looked like he was in his twenties, but his eyes were older. Much older. They’d seen horrors the rest of us could only dream of.

“Were you there before the wall was built?” I asked him.

“Yes. I saw the monsters consume the Earth, destroying towns, toppling cities.”

“Oh, now you’ve gotten Gramps started,” Grace teased me.

I almost laughed at hearing the elderly lady call him Gramps, a man who looked young enough to be her grandson.

“You were made immortal very early in life. You must have done something very important,” I said to him.

“It was the days before the wall. I was part of a group of volunteers that drew the beasts away from our town, buying the witches the time they needed to activate the magic wall. Over two hundred of us went. Only I returned. For my service, the gods made me immortal. I survived for a reason: to protect humanity from the monsters that plague our world. The holy relics are objects of great power. This isn’t just about the thrill of locating relics that have been missing for centuries. It’s about saving the world.” He smiled at me. “And we can only do this together.”

“Wow, that’s a great motivational speech.”

“He does excel at that,” commented Grace. “And that’s why we’re all here, seven pilgrims from seven cities.”

“That’s a great line for the memoir.”

Soft, kind wrinkles crinkled her brow as she smiled. “It really is.”

We had to park outside the Lost City. Over the past two hundred years since the end of the war, sections of the crumbling city ruins had sunk into the ground. There was no road that led into the city, at least not one our trucks could drive on.

So we approached the city on foot. The ruins glowed eerily, reflecting the light show of mixed colors dancing across the sky. It was as though magic were brewing and blending up in that supernatural kitchen in the sky. A clash of heaven and hell. Ice and fire. Sun and smoke. It sure had made thing hot down here. The temperature had risen at least ten degrees since I’d woken up this morning. Sweet beaded up on my body, saturating my clothes, pasting them to my skin.

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