Up in Smoke Sample

Jack tapped the steering wheel, distracted by thoughts of what he could have done differently with his daughter. A new pack of cigarettes and white cardboard takeout containers from the Golden Phoenix sat on the passenger seat. Thick cloud cover blocked any light that the moon and stars might have offered, turning the cracked asphalt and dense evergreens lining the highway into a light-sucking black hole. He rounded a corner, but his headlights illuminated the creature in the lane too late to do anything but swerve. Not enough. He nicked the animal with the driver’s side headlight.

Fighting to regain control, he cursed and slammed on the brakes. He pulled over to the side of the highway, fetched a flashlight from the glove box, and got out to see what he’d hit.

Since Ptarmigan nestled into the toes of the foothills and he lived on a small acreage around the base of Mardell Mountain, hitting wildlife on his commute was a constant danger, and one he was usually more wary of. The shattered headlight and dented hood and grill said “small deer,” and he cursed again. This old beast was probably worth less than what it would cost to repair it, and his insurance company would probably just rather write him a cheque for the truck’s value. He turned and shone the light back down the lane toward the inert dark lump in the middle of the highway. It wasn’t big enough to be a deer and the shape was wrong, too round in the middle, too long. Maybe it was a wildcat? He couldn’t remember ever hearing of anyone hitting a cougar on the highway—they were usually too canny—but it was too big to be anything else. Maybe it was a deer after all.

Cautiously, he approached the animal. It wasn’t moving, but every so often, it would make a pitiful clicking sound in its throat. With every step, his eyes got wider and his mouth got dryer. Instead of hooves and fur and ears, it had claws and scales and horned browbones extending back from a small, pointed snout marked by two tiny slits for nostrils. Two leathery wings extended from the creature’s back—and one appeared to be broken.

“Well, I’ll be jiggered.” Jack stared down at what, according to every fantasy tale ever invented, was obviously a dragon—small for a dragon, but he couldn’t think of anything else to call it. It blinked up at him from golden eyes split with a band of black, seeming anything but threatening. It was smaller than he’d thought from a distance, too, no bigger than Holly. He squatted down beside it and laid a hesitant hand on its shoulder. Its skin was soft and dry like a snake’s. It followed his actions with its eyes, but seemed to be in too much pain to shy away. It seemed calmed by his touch.

“One thing’s for certain,” he muttered, examining the charcoal-coloured hide that blended with the dark asphalt. “You’re not green.”

On the far horizon, he could see another set of headlights approaching. He looked down at the large reptile dubiously.

“Are you going to let me move you? I can’t leave you here.”

Reaching a decision, he ran back to the truck and backed it up until it sat beside the creature. Then, as gently as he could while avoiding the spiny knobs on the creature’s back, he lifted it into the truck bed. It didn’t complain, and barely even stirred.

“How hurt are you, little guy?” He didn’t know why, but he was certain that whatever type of creature this thing was, it was a juvenile. And the fact that it was barely moving had him worried.

Back behind the wheel, he looked up the number for the local fish and wildlife office and dialled. The approaching headlights materialized into his neighbour’s Chevy, and Jack waved at him on the way by to let him know there was no reason for alarm. He put his truck in drive and slowly resumed his homeward journey as the phone rang.

Finally, the line clicked open and launched into an automated menu in a woman’s pleasant voice. “If this is an emergency, call . . .”

“Damn.” Jack ended the call and tossed the phone on the passenger seat.

In the rear-view mirror, the dark shape rose and fell with the creature’s breaths. He slowed and turned right onto the gravel road leading to his place, missing the plume of blue flame illuminating the tree-covered hills far down the valley to the south, near the old mine.

Up in Smoke ©2019 Talena Winters. All rights reserved.