Surprise Resources

Furia's rider is back, and with him some old habits as well. As if Furia's injuries weren't enough to endure, she had to make clear her position of "no more hunting" to her bloodthirsty rider.

Surprise Resources

 

Things ended almost as good as perfect for Sanchez and the band of assassins; it has been a month after the attack and the D.D.I. hadn’t made the slightest advance in the investigation, not even with their limitless ways of getting information. Even Furia “Wings of Liberty”, who managed to survive and kept their hairs up like pillars in fear she might have supported the investigation in some way that could lead to their doom, she didn’t give anything useful to the investigation, they wouldn’t have made it free this long if she had.

 

They had gone back to their usual tasks, assuring Mr. Prisco's operations and such. It has been quiet for a while, since Wings of Liberty left to Texas. Until one happy-go-lucky dark night; Sanchez and his dragon flew over the city, the buildings dashing under them as they looked closely at every corner.

 

You think you can just refuse to Mr. Prisco and continue to deal your s**t without consequences…    Sanchez thought.

 

Suddenly, a shadow ran into an alleyway just late enough for the dragon to catch it with his sharp vision. They accelerated towards the alleyway as Sanchez unstrapped himself from the saddle. The dragon dropped Sanchez on one end of the alleyway and quickly flew away. The shadow saw Sanchez entering the dark alleyway, becoming a shadow too, and ran to the other side; only to see a dragon landing right outside, looking straight at him, showing his fangs and hissing lowly.

 

Cornered, the shadow breathed hardly as he looked frantically from side to side. Recurring to his last resort, the shadow threw a Vital Energy dagger at Sanchez, which he evaded. The shadow attacked again, but this time Sanchez just blocked the weapon with a Vital Energy shield. The soon to be victim then spoke, failing to allow his words to be well articulated without fear…

 

-Please… please… I can give you a share… give me a second chance.

 

As he slowly walked towards the shadow, Sanchez said…

 

-Do you believe in god?

 

-Yes… please… have mercy.

 

-Then why are you crying about? There is a second chance waiting for you.

 

Quickly, Sanchez generated a tomahawk and threw it at the shadow. The shadow generated a shield with a cry, but the flying Vital Energy smoky axe broke it without a problem, pushing its blade all the way into the shadow’s face. The shadow fell to the ground with a solid thump, twitching a couple of times and then… nothing. The smoky weapon dissipated, leaving a whole in the inexperienced drug dealer’s face that came from the forehead down to the upper lip, separating vertically the sides of the head.

 

They always go for the rider…    Said the dragon with a rough voice…   it’s not fair.

 

As Sanchez grabbed the corpse from a wrist, and pulled it toward the other side of the alleyway, toward his dragon, he said…

 

What are you complaining? You always get to eat the corpse, don’t you?

 

It’s not the same as to bite them and feel their twitchy little bodies being pierced by my fangs… all seasoned with the taste of fresh blood as their lives are slowly extinguished.

 

Won’t argue with that…

 

Sanchez got the body out of the alley and walked a couple of steps away as his dragon bit the body on a leg, flipped it in the air and caught it with a snap of his jaws.

 

Tasty.

 

Sanchez began to climb the saddle and to strap himself to the back of his dragon as he said…

 

You dragons have made this business so easy… back in the day there were a hundred ways to dispose of a body and it could still be found.

 

Suddenly, Sanchez’s phone began to ring. He picked it out of his pocket and answered the call…

 

-Hold on a minute…

 

Then the dragon took off and after a couple of wing strokes they found themselves once again on the ground. Sanchez then spoke to the phone while his dragon just waved around his tail…

 

-Who is this?

 

-Patrick Darst… he’s on the move.

 

Sanchez stayed silent for a second as his dragon slowed the tail waving until it came to a stop. Then he said…

 

-Who are you?

 

-Strike now… he’s unprotected… training… it will be easier though… Furia lost vision of her right eye.

 

-Why are you telling me this? Who are you?

 

-A real friend… good luck… don’t try to contact this phone.

 

And then the signal was lost and the call ended. Sanchez could only stare at his phone as it went back to the wallpaper. He and the others never took that possibility on account; especially since Patrick and Furia left to Texas.

 

Looks like it isn’t over…    Sanchez thought as his dragon took off again and went to their house.

 

The very next day, Shawver, the Claypool Twin Brothers, and Sanchez could be seen once again in the balcony, sitting at the rounded table at midday. Sanchez started with telling his fellow assassins about the call he received the night before.

 

-How do you know is not a trap?    -Said one of the Twin Brothers.

 

-Why would anyone help us?     -Completed the other one.

 

-It can be a trap...  "Admitted Sanchez-… Yet remember we have fulfilled many hits before, and Mr. Prisco has some friends too. He or she, whatever; it told me too that Furia lost her right eye. It was the same side Shawver’s dragon burned on her… without mentioning that this number can be found only by our true allies.

 

Then Shawver said…  -Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything. They didn’t even tell you their name.

 

-That’s in case of failure, Shawver.    "Said one of the twins.

 

-So we can’t reveal them if someone tries to get information from us.   "Said the other one.

 

-Well…   -Continueded Shawver-… we can then either trust this person unknown or not… what’s it gonna be?

 

If we go and it’s a trap…   Thought Sanchez…   it’s over… But… what if it’s not? It can end… it can just end anyway.

 

-I’ll take the lead.   "Affirmed Sanchez.

 

Snapping his knuckles, Shawver asked…

 

-When will we do it?

 

-I’ll get ready a team of hitmen within a few days. Mr. Prisco will need the lot of you close if things go wrong.

 

The four men then dispersed outside of the house and flew away with their dragons. Sanchez then proceeded to gather up a team of four hitmen that would accompany him at Texas, home of “Wings of Liberty” and the Double Scarred Rider.

 

It wasn’t hard for the killers to find Darst’s and Furia’s home at the outskirts of Lubbock. To study the place, the killers sent two of their dragons around their targets’ lands, while the other three stayed with them for transport. That night, in a dark alley…

 

-What did you find?   -Asked Sanchez.

 

-The place is surrounded by some dragons… -Answered one of the henchmen-… no wonder, though… it hosts the best game around and it was the first place dragons could stay freely. No people are around… only the dragons come and go, though there’s no sight of Furia.

 

Just half an hour later, a dragon came around and landed on the street, saying to his rider…   Patrick and Furia are home, they arrived with the father, but no one else.    The rider then told Sanchez…

 

-Patrick is home, only the old man is there.

 

-Good. Now let’s get this over with.

 

The band of assassins climbed to the saddles of the dragons, and, once strapped up and ready to fly, the four dragons took off towards the outskirts. At their observation spot was Sanchez’s dragon laying on the ground. He was staring at the house. Furia could be seen lying on the ground just in front, along with the old man’s dragon. Sanchez arrived on one of his henchmen’s dragon and jumped to the ground as he asked his dragon…    Any changes?...   And his dragon answered…   No, let’s engage from different sides and let’s go home.   Sanchez then climbed to his dragon’s saddle and strapped himself up. He picked his cellphone and contacted the rest of the riders at the other side of the lands.

 

-Start the attack.

 

The two teams of killers took off and flew towards the center; ready to storm the defenseless house and the innocent dragons that lay in front of it.

 

As they came closer to the house they began to generate their weapons with which they would put an end to this story to remember. They would be the ones to kill Furia “Wings of Liberty” and Patrick Darst, the Double Scarred Rider.  Their targets were closer and closer with each wing stroke of their dragons. Their hands overflowing with Vital Energy, ready to deal the definitive blow that would put an end to Furia’s life, and later to her rider.

 

And they sent their sharp and pointed projectiles flying at Furia, who just lay on the ground… when suddenly… the house’s front door snapped open and a rider came out, just in time to block the projectiles. The lone rider took formation in front of Furia and the other dragon while he generated Vital Energy weapons… it was Patrick Darst… and his eyes met Sanchez’s… Patrick’s eyes were sharp and confident… disturbingly adorned with a grin.

 

-Retreat!   -Yelled Sanchez.

 

But it was too late anyway… Just as Sanchez slowed down to change course, a strange force tackled them. The sudden change of speed and direction didn’t allow them to set the slightest defense against the quick attack. The burst of pain was so sharp, Sanchez’s dragon squealed and he let out a groan. But it didn’t end there… as he blocked the pain and was now ready to fight, he only discovered that his dragon’s left wing was ripped off and that they were diving helplessly toward the ground.

 

They crash landed, creating a cloud of dust and dirt. Sanchez’s vision wasn’t very clear and his moves were slow and weak as he tried to unstrap himself from his dragon’s saddle. He didn’t manage to finish that… suddenly; a dark red rope thing wiped in front of him and chopped his left hand off. His dragon began to shake and shriek as another dragon bit his neck. Sanchez tried to throw a weapon at the attacker with his other hand, but when he did the swing, he saw his own hand flying away and bouncing off from the other dragon’s neck. Next he saw a punch flying at his face.

 

Sanchez was still conscious as one unknown human pressed a hand against his chest, healing him, and the other unstrapped him from his dragon’s saddle. Then he was carried away by these two mysterious riders while he just looked down… It doesn’t make sense… it doesn’t make sense… what happened?... what could have gone wrong?

 

Then a low voice brought Sanchez to look forward… “Hi… Sanchez.”… it said, and there was Patrick Darst, with his hands halfway into his pockets and a calmed and rejoiced expression on his face. Behind him were two dragons; one was Furia, looking over Sanchez with one shinny yellow eye and a pale one.

 

Staring at Patrick’s eyes, Sanchez muttered…

 

-You… you made the call.

A week earlier…

Furia was then strong enough to make the trip back to Lubbock, Texas. Alan and Oliver and their dragons accompanied us one late afternoon on the flight home. We were in the air, flying at a soft pace; the air rushed against my face as I made my best efforts not to think about something dreadful… which was the strongest presence in my mind… on other thoughts, I was grateful for being back with Furia and my friends. Although it was just a year that I was out in the coma and a couple of months with my memories lost, I wondered what adventures I may have missed.

 

At a moment, Furia’s course started to slowly get lost as she turned her head to the right.

 

Furia.

 

What?

 

The course.

 

Oh, d****t!     Furia said as she shook her head and got back straight with a grunt.

 

Furia’s thoughts began to feel tense and rough as she blocked me away. I didn’t know dragons could do that with their riders, but I guess Furia spent so much time on her own that she might as well have developed some individuality. I decided to leave her alone for a while… up until some minutes later that her guard was down. I asked her…

 

Furia… are you ok?

 

I guess having an eye less is part of my new “ok”.

 

Her answer was sharp; I stayed in silence for a few moments before saying…

 

I didn’t mean to…   She quickly interrupted me and said…

 

I know, Pat. I know what you mean… I’m just upset… I need to think out some stuff.

 

It’s ok… I guess.

 

We arrived back at our lands an hour and a half later and headed for the house. There was Sahara, my father’s dragon, arching up her neck and looking up to Furia, who blew dirt away as she got closer to the ground and straightening her approach to land on her hind legs first, along with our friends. As I unstrapped myself from the saddle, Furia then fast paced at Sahara, who slowly walked up to us. And once I jumped down, Sahara got to Furia’s side and embraced her under her wing, emitting a grave humming.

 

I stepped away in silence, since I have never seen or felt Furia so upset before. A second later, Furia looked up to Sahara and nodded, and then she spoke to me. Alike the last time I heard her voice; she spoke lowly, with ease and calm.

 

Patrick, please unsaddle me.

 

I obeyed without hesitation and suddenly found myself awkwardly clipping off the locks of this strange saddle that was incredibly aerodynamic and light. Once it was completely loose, I pulled the saddle off Furia. She then turned away and, raising her wings, getting ready to take off, she said…

 

I’m not upset with you, Patrick, so don’t worry.

 

Is there anything I can help you with, though?

 

Furia shook her head and took off, creating a strong wave of wind with just one powerful stroke of her wings as she jumped to the air, followed just a moment later by Sahara. I just stood there, watching the two dragons flying away to the orange horizon next to a hiding sun.

 

I didn’t know how much I loved that dragon up until I saw her leaving me alone in the dark and surrounded by enemies back in Miami. Even though she didn’t want me to, I was going to avenge her with or without her help. I was going to hunt down the butchers who dared hurt my dragon, who dared kill my dragon’s friends; even though I never knew David Bowman and Icy “Speed Demon”, Furia had great appreciation for them. And if they were my dragon’s friends, then they were my friends as well and none of my friends shall ever end unavenged.

 

It was beginning to get dark, so I turned to Alan and Oliver and asked them…

 

-What are you guys going to do now?

 

-I know you all too well to know you won’t desist on this, Patrick… - Started saying Alan-… and you can count on me in for this hunt.

 

-Me too! They haven’t just messed with Texas… -Added Oliver-… They messed with my comrades!

 

-I knew I could count on you, guys. Now let’s not waste a second and get this going.

 

We then walked into the house and I offered my friends some beer…   First things first, right?...  Then we went to the computer and looked for what we had to look for: an odd Dragon Sanctuary Owner I met in Miami. Starting by looking for the Dragon Sanctuaries there were in Miami, I just had to discard the rest, leaving one last possibility. Happy for my success, I concentrated then on drinking with my friends and talk rubbish.

 

Alan and Oliver told me about their business as Freelancers. For starters, they didn’t have a place to call home; they were always on the move to fulfill contracts all over Miami and the nearby estates. Since they were former L&SDO members, they already had quite a reputation even before starting to work as freelancers. They tracked down people and dragons for whatever reason their contractors wanted, they worked as bodyguards for some important personalities, among other occupations. That was pretty much what we talked while we drank, since I had no new stories to share with them.

 

Although we were having a good time celebrating my coming back, I couldn’t take from the back of my mind the reason Furia was clearly so upset… my urge to set things straight with what had been done to her. I couldn’t blame her… after all that had happened, I was back. She had been waiting for me for so long until I barely come back to find a reason to put us both on the line again. I find no pleasure in doing this, I don’t even want to do this at all, but it doesn’t matter how much Furia or I or us both combined want something… some things just won’t change nor I will stop doing… and one of them is assuring our safety at all costs.

 

 

On the other claw

I was flying with Sahara, heading for the highest spot in the lands. I landed first and continued fast pacing a couple of steps. Just a moment later, I heard the waving of wind behind me and turned to the right, but I ridiculously ended up turning all the way around until I had Sahara on my left side as she slowed her approach towards me.

 

Sahara lowered her head and approached even slower as she hummed gravely and said…

 

What’s wrong, Furia?

 

I didn’t know how to articulate the issue into words. I first looked down, then up to the newborn stars of that night… fighting the urge of speaking up blocked by the fear of not being understood, or worse. I didn’t remember exactly why I dragged her here for… if I wanted to seek advice from her… or if I just wanted to vent off a newfound frustration.

 

Probably a bit of both.

 

Sahara, I… I’m not that glad anymore about Patrick having remembered everything.

 

Sahara didn’t say a word. She walked next to me by my left side and embraced me under her wing. Then I continued saying…

 

He’s bringing up all that I wanted to leave behind. Patrick wants to go hunt the responsible of the attack in Kansas and… crippling me, but… I don’t want to. We have put our lives on the line far too many times, Sahara, I just want to stop, move on and make a life of my own while Patrick wants to have us both stuck on a never-ending hunt.

 

So Patrick wants to go questing and you don’t… what do you think you should do?

 

Nice… the response now lay in my own knowledge… oh how I hated those… but, on the other claw, it was actually the true problem I was dealing with: To follow Patrick or not to follow Patrick… that was the matter. Two sides of the same coin that I have enjoyed doing both… and… well… I just recurred to an old way of acquiring advice… I asked Sahara…

 

What would you do?

 

Me? I’d just follow my rider.

 

What?   I tried to step away as I looked up to Sahara, but she just pressed me more against her with her wing...       Are you trying to confuse me?

 

You already are, Furia… and you are confused enough to ask a dragon like me that kind of question. I’m just a wise man’s dragon, Furia, casually him being your rider’s father. On the other claw… You, Furia… you are not your rider’s dragon anymore. You are far more experienced than Patrick, you grew wiser while Patrick didn’t, and it’s not his fault, don’t you think? He is a warrior, a hunter; that’s how he functions…

 

But I don’t…

 

Teach him… You must teach Patrick the way. Don’t get angry with him, he doesn’t need that. Patrick already hates himself for sending you to start the Non-Rider Raids with that Russian guy… so don’t remember that to him, help him forget about that instead, he loves you… and if he’s willing to avenge you, all you have to do is turn his motivation your way.

 

Sahara then opened her wings and let me free, but I stood still, looking at her, stepping away and stretching her wings to take off.    Thank you, Sahara.

 

Now you are ready to deal with Patrick.   She said before taking off.

 

Sahara waved down her wings and generated a burst of wind so strong it made me slightly close my eyes and turn my head a little.

 

I don’t know how I’m going to deal with Patrick about the hunt, but… I do know I’m going to do it tomorrow.

 

I stretched my legs and wings and yawned before dropping on the ground to wait for my mind to drift away and sleep. I started to remember good times of Patrick and I together before the war, long before he even got his Second Scar. I wanted to go back to those times… see things in a less hateful way… I just wondered if I would get Patrick to reason that way.

 

In the next morning

 

Miami, Florida… A black dragon lay on the ground, in front of a two leveled wood house. Next to him was another dragon, a white one, clear as fresh clouds and slightly smaller than the black one. As the black dragon turned his head toward the house, a scar on his right eye could be seen. He took a deep breath and exhaled a cloud of smoke as he waved his head around, making a twisted and obscure drawing in the air that slowly faded away.

 

Shadow, cut that out already.      Said the white dragon with a growl and slightly showing his fangs.

 

F**k off, Tarxow.     Answered the black dragon, without even stopping his activity…

 

Inside the house, a man tied up his black military boots as the environment was saturated by very loud music. His hair fell down to his shoulders and waved as the owner headbanged to the heavy tunes. He stood up after tightening the last pull and turned to his bed. The bed was undone, but far more interesting; a collection of pistols and small machineguns was on it. The man looked at it and thought… “The old days had their touch…” The man then quickly picked a pistol and put it on the back of his pants, to then let fall over it a dark blue hoody with white dragon wings delineated on the back. “Not your last trip yet.” He thought and smiled to remember all the individuals he had shot with that pistol and all the money he had obtained by doing so.

 

The gunman turned off the audio system and suddenly the shrieking of the birds and the wind could be heard. He turned to the stairway outside of his room and fast paced down. The gunman was on his mid-thirties, tall and strong; his chin and neck were covered by a short beard and his eyes were green and blue, one of each color.

 

A woman met him at the front door, her hair was long and black, her eyes both blue as the sky. She reached the side of the gunman and said…

 

-D****t, Jose, always late.

 

-F**k off, Ashley, and let’s get going.    "Said the gunman, stepping forward and opening the door.

 

The two riders approached their dragons, Jose the black one named Shadow, and Ashley the white one named Tarxow, and climbed the saddles to strap themselves to their dragons’ backs. As they turned away from the house and got far from each other to then open their wings and get ready to take off, suddenly a yell stopped their departure.

 

-Wait!!

 

And a gray, black stripped dragon landed in front of the black dragon and kept her wings open, looking at both dragons, shifting her sights from one to the other and so on.

 

What the f**k, Shady!     Said Shadow…

 

Out of the way, we have to go!

 

-What now, Tony?      -Grunted Jose as he turned on his waist to look at the youngest of the three brothers.

 

The lad, a teenager, held the door open and breathed heavily as he held a satellite phone on the other hand.

 

-It’s Patrick Darst…   -The tense boy said… -He wants to speak with you.

 

Jose unsaddled himself from the saddle and jumped down, remembering his own close encounter with the Double Scarred Rider. His sister, Ashley, had accidentally kidnaped the legendary rider in a critical moment during which a lot was going on. The Double Scarred Rider, injured and abandoned by his own dragon, roamed the land without a clue of where he was. He eventually ended up at Jose’s, Ashley’s and Tony’s home, where a misunderstanding led Ashley to capture Patrick and hold him prisoner. Jose, who arrived home just getting paid for killing someone, sorted out the situation and prevented Patrick from holding a grudge on his brother and sister. Jose allowed Patrick to stay at his place and regain his energies before continuing his own quest. In the end, Jose let Patrick ride his dragon, Shadow, to get back to Miami and finish his unconcluded business with some Russian guy. He made with Patrick some kind of friendship; as Patrick recovered, they managed to know each other and generated some kind of trust. Caring not about the meaning of the call, Jose decided to greet Patrick as an old friend.

 

Jose picked the phone from Tony and took it to his ear, and then he exclaimed…

 

-Patrick! Nice to hear of you again, I’m glad you could find Furia, and even gladder for her to survive that attack in Kansas.

 

-It’s good to hear of you too, Jose. Look, I need your help to find the responsible for that attack. You still are a gun for hire, right?

 

-I am, but I can’t help you with that… at least not directly.

 

-What do you mean by that?

 

-Your name appears too much on TV… it stopped doing so ever since you woke up, but well, to me it’s done it too many times. That’s why I can’t go hunting with you. On the other hand, I can give you the secret phone number the leader of the assassins uses for their main contacts. They don’t change that number because it’s almost impossible for them to give it out.

 

-Why are you giving me that number so easily? How did you get it?

 

-I am one of their main guns for hire out their territory, and no, I wasn’t in the attack to Kansas.

 

-I’m going to trust you then… and you have my word as a Double Scarred Rider that I’ll repay you for this.

 

-Don’t worry about it for now; the time will come. Now get something to take note… ready?

 

-Wait… ok.

 

- (Phone Number)… Got it?

 

-Yeah. Thanks again, Jose. I’ll owe you big time if you don’t ask for my help.

 

-The name of the guy is Sanchez and the whole thing is in Missouri. And don’t mind that now. I have to get going, you need anything else?

 

-No, that’s perfect. Good luck, then!

 

-Good hunting, Patrick!

 

Jose then hung up the phone and threw it at his little brother, to then turn around and fast pace at his dragon. As he climbed to the saddle, Ashley asked him…

 

-What the f**k was that about?

 

And Jose answered…

 

-Mr. Prisco is done.

 

I’ll miss his generous pays for a well done job… Thought Jose… But, having the Double Scarred Rider on your side is something very few can dare say.

 

Wasting no more time, the assassins and their dragons took off and flew away.