Read Online Angel In Yellow by Astrid Cooper - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Astrid Cooper
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only hope in hell.
A shadow dipped across the ground. Ben kept running, hoping it was the fire bomber. Odd, that there was no engine noise, only a slow whoosh, whoosh. He glanced back, saw the fire and then... He was jolted off his feet, his helmet dropping to the ground. Holy fucking hell. His gut flipped, left behind as he was yanked upwards by the scruff of his neck, something slicing his flesh as it caught hold of his jacket collar. He was airborne ten metres above the yard, and climbing. He dangled like a fish on a hook and then something hard supported him under the stomach—something looking very much like forearms—green-gold scaled. What the...? He stared up and around and saw a reptilian body, more green-gold scales and massive green wings.
That’s it, I’m dead. An angel’s winging me to heaven. Hey, wait! Don’t angels have white wings and diaphanous gowns? Hysteria rose like a bubble. He bit down on his lip, the pain bringing him back to reality. Except reality was... Jesus what was happening?
The creature holding him wasn’t an angel. He was flying through the air, held tightly by a four metre long dragon, its talons piercing his protective gear.
As Ben stared up, the dragon’s emerald eyes returned his gaze, black slits reflecting the flames below.
The dragon laboured over the tree tops, fiery embers in pursuit. The dragon’s muscles bunched and strained, body elongating as it outflew the fire.
Over the next ridge, Ben saw the creek. Thank God! There was the fire truck, its rear end burnt, paint blistered. The hose was melted. It must have been a close call. His crew, his friends, sheltered in the water, along with animals he’d liberated from the farm. The horse was in the middle of the creek. Looked like Gary had hold of its bridle. At least some had survived the inferno—but others earlier that day in the boarding cattery and shelter had perished before his crew had reached the building. He could still hear the sickening screams as trapped animals died... The stink of burned fur and flesh. He shook his head, fighting the images. He’d never forget... never... Never forgive someone who saved his own skin at the expense of the animals in his care.
The dragon banked, skimming low. Ben saw a wide expanse of manicured lawn surrounding a large colonial mansion. Beneath the return verandah he saw cats, rabbits and other animals in cages, dogs and horses tethered to the posts, all attended to by several men and women dressed in dark overalls. Other creatures sheltered under trees, confined in pens, while an adjoining paddock housed sheep, cows, horses, two alpacas, and even chickens, as well as ‘roos and wombats. A colony of bats hung upside down in the dark canopy of one oak tree. A few koalas were clinging to tree trunks, drinking water from silver goblets held up to them by children. Silver goblets! What the heck is all this? He peered closer at the animals in the paddock. Was he seeing things? Was that a lion? And a tiger? I’m hallucinating. That’s it—hallucinating because he’d been fighting the fires for days, running on little sleep, and a lot of bad coffee and adrenaline.
The dragon veered to the right, and with a massive back-fanning of its leathery wings Ben was gently dropped to his feet on the edge of the lawn. He staggered, legs wobbly from fatigue and fear. He righted himself only to come eyeball to eyeball with the dragon’s glowing eyes.
The dragon reached out with its snout and whuffled, its breath washing over Ben. He smelled of fire, and musk. The snout pushed his chest. Then with a flap of wings, the dragon launched into the sky and joined six other dragons circling overhead.
Mew, mew...
Remembering the kitten, Ben dug into his coat and gently pulled it out. It yowled and then convulsed. Suddenly it wasn’t breathing, lying rigid on his palm. He closed the tiny mouth and carefully blew the smallest puffs into the nose. C’mon, damnit, don’t die on me...not
A shadow dipped across the ground. Ben kept running, hoping it was the fire bomber. Odd, that there was no engine noise, only a slow whoosh, whoosh. He glanced back, saw the fire and then... He was jolted off his feet, his helmet dropping to the ground. Holy fucking hell. His gut flipped, left behind as he was yanked upwards by the scruff of his neck, something slicing his flesh as it caught hold of his jacket collar. He was airborne ten metres above the yard, and climbing. He dangled like a fish on a hook and then something hard supported him under the stomach—something looking very much like forearms—green-gold scaled. What the...? He stared up and around and saw a reptilian body, more green-gold scales and massive green wings.
That’s it, I’m dead. An angel’s winging me to heaven. Hey, wait! Don’t angels have white wings and diaphanous gowns? Hysteria rose like a bubble. He bit down on his lip, the pain bringing him back to reality. Except reality was... Jesus what was happening?
The creature holding him wasn’t an angel. He was flying through the air, held tightly by a four metre long dragon, its talons piercing his protective gear.
As Ben stared up, the dragon’s emerald eyes returned his gaze, black slits reflecting the flames below.
The dragon laboured over the tree tops, fiery embers in pursuit. The dragon’s muscles bunched and strained, body elongating as it outflew the fire.
Over the next ridge, Ben saw the creek. Thank God! There was the fire truck, its rear end burnt, paint blistered. The hose was melted. It must have been a close call. His crew, his friends, sheltered in the water, along with animals he’d liberated from the farm. The horse was in the middle of the creek. Looked like Gary had hold of its bridle. At least some had survived the inferno—but others earlier that day in the boarding cattery and shelter had perished before his crew had reached the building. He could still hear the sickening screams as trapped animals died... The stink of burned fur and flesh. He shook his head, fighting the images. He’d never forget... never... Never forgive someone who saved his own skin at the expense of the animals in his care.
The dragon banked, skimming low. Ben saw a wide expanse of manicured lawn surrounding a large colonial mansion. Beneath the return verandah he saw cats, rabbits and other animals in cages, dogs and horses tethered to the posts, all attended to by several men and women dressed in dark overalls. Other creatures sheltered under trees, confined in pens, while an adjoining paddock housed sheep, cows, horses, two alpacas, and even chickens, as well as ‘roos and wombats. A colony of bats hung upside down in the dark canopy of one oak tree. A few koalas were clinging to tree trunks, drinking water from silver goblets held up to them by children. Silver goblets! What the heck is all this? He peered closer at the animals in the paddock. Was he seeing things? Was that a lion? And a tiger? I’m hallucinating. That’s it—hallucinating because he’d been fighting the fires for days, running on little sleep, and a lot of bad coffee and adrenaline.
The dragon veered to the right, and with a massive back-fanning of its leathery wings Ben was gently dropped to his feet on the edge of the lawn. He staggered, legs wobbly from fatigue and fear. He righted himself only to come eyeball to eyeball with the dragon’s glowing eyes.
The dragon reached out with its snout and whuffled, its breath washing over Ben. He smelled of fire, and musk. The snout pushed his chest. Then with a flap of wings, the dragon launched into the sky and joined six other dragons circling overhead.
Mew, mew...
Remembering the kitten, Ben dug into his coat and gently pulled it out. It yowled and then convulsed. Suddenly it wasn’t breathing, lying rigid on his palm. He closed the tiny mouth and carefully blew the smallest puffs into the nose. C’mon, damnit, don’t die on me...not
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