Page 38 of Dragon 7

Granted, the scream was a bit muffled.

Thinner this time.

Wait. I know that voice. . .

In fact, I would know it anywhere. Recently, I had built half my sanity around the sound of that voice laughing in the kitchen.

That voice soothing me to healing.

Nyomi.

I dropped my mask and it fell onto the cart’s floor.

Our Tiger is screaming!

Rising, I planted a hand on the cart's rail and fast vaulted upward. The moving vehicle became nothing more than a stepping stone beneath my feet. For an instant, I rode the wind itself. My body twisted through the night air, hair flaring, and then I landed atop the cart's roof. The impact rang through the metal with a sharp clang.

The cart never slowed.

“Hiro, what the fuck?!” Kenji yelled from within the cart. “Get back here!”

“I hear Nyomi.”

Yoichi growled. “Hiro, she’s fine. Get back in the cart.”

“No.” I widened my stance and easily balanced on the roof as the cart sped down the winding path. “How would you know if she is fine?”

“Get back in the cart!” Yoichi growled. “She’s with friends. They will protect her.”

“Then, why is she screaming?” Wind rushed against my clothes, tugging at my shirt and whipping strands of hair across my forehead.

“Screaming?” Kenji’s voice rose. “Are you sure it’s Nyomi?”

“Yes.” I leaned toward the direction I first heard it. The moon spilled silver light across my face and hands, turning my skin cold and ghostlike against the darkness.

Then I heard it.

Another scream.

Faint.

Distant.

Muffled.

As though someone had wrapped silk around a bell and struck it anyway.

I tilted my head toward the sound as the cart rattled beneath my boots.

“Get back in!” Yoichi hit the cart’s ceiling. “Hiro, we are almost there!”

Another cry reached me.

Thin.

Strangled.

Smothered.