Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

dragon. All around them, ash and burning chunks of pumice continued
     to rain down from the erupting volcano.
    The red dragon tucked its weakened wing tight against its back and began to climb
     up the mountain toward Mitro. Still reeling from the brutal fight and equally brutal
     landing, the black dragon righted himself with shaky, labored motions. Black wings
     extended and flapped as Mitro tried to gather his strength and take to the air.
    Unwilling to let his prey escape, the Old One put on a burst of speed, latched on
     to the black dragon’s rear leg and threw him into a stand of nearby trees.

    Riley blinked rapidly as the cave around them disintegrated. Ash continued to fall,
     soft drifting petals that choked the air and covered the trees and foliage like down.
     The forest around them was intact—the blast hadn’t flattened the trees on their side
     of the mountain—but a few scattered fires and mud had done major damage. Several hundred
     feet up, she could see the devastation of the ruins of the Cloud People’s village.
     Fires glowed all up and down the mountain, orange and red valiantly struggling through
     the darkened ash swirling in the air.
    “We can’t stay up here,” Jubal said, covering his mouth and nose. “The wind is shifting
     our way and there’s every possibility of a gas cloud coming at us from the other side.”
    “I can’t see a trail,” Ben said. “How are we going to find our way back without Miguel?”
    “We’ve got GPS,” Gary said. “And once the ash settles enough, we’ve got friends we
     can call in to pull us out with a helicopter, but we should try to find Miguel and
     the others just in case.”
    Riley’s head jerked up. There was that ominous note in his voice—in the way he worded
     it. She let her breath out, coughed and covered her mouth. “I think I can track them,”
     she admitted with a small glance at Ben.
    “Of course you can,” Ben said. “You can build caves and stop volcanos. I’m just looking
     for the thigh-high boots and cape.” He flashed her a little grin and wiggled his eyebrows.
    In spite of the circumstances she laughed. “I wish I had my cape. I’d fly us out of
     here.”
    Gary took the lead. Riley and Ben fell into step behind him. Jubal brought up the
     rear as they began to make their way down the mountain. Ash was thick powder on the
     ground, in the foliage, falling from the trees above them until they were nearly drowning
     in it. They wrapped shirts around their mouths and noses and continued doggedly on.
    It was impossible to tell how close to dawn it was with the ash so dense in the sky,
     obscuring any evidence of light, but her watch told her they had a few more hours
     before the sun began to climb. It shouldn’t have mattered, but if there was an honest-to-God
     vampire roaming around, then she wanted the sun to come up fast.
    She cleared her throat. “Gary, if this ash hangs over the rain forest and keeps it
     dark, will the . . . a . . .” Saying the word vampire out loud just sounded ludicrous. She definitely could understand Ben’s disbelief
     even in the face of evidence that some form of evil haunted their journey and pushed
     the porter to murder her mother.
    Gary glanced over his shoulder, his expression sober. “I know it’s difficult to believe
     that such things exist. But it’s out there and it’s a killing machine. It cannot come
     out in the sun, that much is true about them. They go to ground and place safeguards
     around their resting places. If this one was locked in a volcano for hundreds of years
     without blood to sustain it, it has to be one powerful creature.”
    “And hungry,” she murmured. “Tell me about them. Everything you can think of.”
    Gary looked up quickly. Fear and panic raced over his face as he fought to find words.
     Before Riley could look up he spoke.
    “I will. Later. Right now, we need to move.” His voice somehow seemed calm compared
     to how she felt when she saw giant red dragon wings outstretched, speeding toward
     the opposite side of the mountain.
    They ran. They raced through trees and brush, leaping over fallen trees and debris,
     unmindful of the many small cuts and bruises they earned as fronds and branches whipped
     at their skin. The first time they heard the powerful roar that ripped through the
     air above them, the sound nearly froze them in their tracks. Then survival instincts
     kicked in, and a jolt of adrenaline sent them racing even