CHAPTER 88
DAKOTA
The ride over to Fort Dallas is just as unnerving as I expected.
We’d piled into an old Buick and buckled in, and I held my breath when it lifted slowly into the air.
It’s one thing to risk my life, but with Rabbit in the car next to me, a seatbelt doesn’t feel like enough to keep her safe.
I clutch her hand in mine and look in the rearview mirror at Dottie and Aggie.
They’re also holding hands, a pinched look on Dottie’s face as if she’s having second thoughts.
I know just how that feels. I, too, am having tons of second thoughts.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Rabbit reassures me with a whisper. “Murr isn’t going to drop us.”
“I know. I’ll relax when we get there.” As if going to a fort is going to be any better.
My past experience with forts is that they’re usually run by small men with big egos, and the needs of the many get squashed down by a few greedy individuals.
But I keep that to myself, because I’m hoping against hope that today is pleasant.
That we’ll find some nice people to trade some bits and bobs with.
We’ll get some supplies for Dottie’s birthday, get her checked over by the doctor, and go home tonight and not think of any of this ever again.
Yeah, right. It’s nice to dream.
A cool breeze drifts through the windows of the car, whipping my hair around my head.
I pulled it into a braid before we left, but strands are getting free and tangling around my face anyhow.
I pull my superhero cape tighter around my neck, breathing in Murr’s scent that lingers on the fabric. I trust him. I do.
I just don’t trust anything when my feet aren’t on solid ground.
At least Rabbit seems to be enjoying herself. My hand is sweaty in hers, but she’s enjoying herself, her eyes bright and a wide smile on her face as she peers out the window on her side. “This is awesome!”
No one agrees with her. We’re all too nervous. I remember plane flights, but I never worried the plane was going to lose its grip on the sky and drop us to the ground. I want to relax and enjoy the journey, but my pleasure will come when everyone is happy and healthy and we’re leaving once more.
“Hope this was worth leaving the dogs for,” Aggie grumps.
I get her reluctance. I do. It was a whole thing this morning.
Rabbit nearly broke down in tears when she realized that if we left and didn’t come back for several days, the animals would have no way out of the cozy bookstore.
It’s been our home for so many days now that there are more cats living under our roof now than out of it, and there’s Stella and her puppies.
We ended up propping open the front doors with bricks so that if something bad happened, they’d be able to go in and out, and Rabbit was able to relax and enjoy the trip.
“It’ll be fine,” I say, just as the fort’s infamous car barrier comes into view.
After the dragons came through the rift and decimated most of the world, what was left of humanity took the scraps of our society and built fortresses to protect ourselves.
The most common building material is things we no longer need, which is why Fort Dallas’s surrounding wall is built entirely out of old cars.
Some are crushed and flattened, some intact, some missing their tires, but there are so many that it creates a high, imposing wall that makes it easy to defend.
Perched atop this wall is a golden dragon, and as we skim over the wall itself, the strange dragon peers into the car.
I hold my breath. Just in case.
Then we’re flying over the city, and Thess is gliding downward to a clear spot so she can land.
The inside of Fort Dallas reminds me of every other fort I’ve ever been inside.
The streets are nothing but mud with plywood tossed over the worst spots, without a single blade of grass.
The houses are all a shantytown built out of storage sheds, old school buses, pieces of scrap metal, and even a dumpster.
They all pile together to make a series of “buildings” that would probably fall apart in a strong breeze, and yet these are where most people live.
I see children playing in the streets, and someone pushing a wheelbarrow past. There’s a big garden on the far side of the fort, with another golden dragon guarding it.
Murr sets our car gently down on the ground, and it rocks for a brief moment before going still.
The smell of the fort hits me in the next moment, like old garbage and mold.
From the ground, it’s easy to see that there’s garbage in the streets, with someone utilizing a burn barrel nearby.
Even so, it stinks and I’m strangely grateful for the weed-strewn parking lot in front of our bookstore.
I never want to live in a fort again. Not now, not ever.
But this is just a one-day visit. I smile brightly at the others and unbuckle my seatbelt. “We’re here! Everyone out and let’s say hello.”