Dragonet

Chapter Five

Darkness now cloaked the city, darkness and a thick layer of fog. Deep in that fog, floating through the cities night glow a strange reptilian shape drifted. Shifting course to pick up altitude from updrafts caused by each buildings heat as she wandered. Afraid to look for help, afraid not to. What had once been an adventuresome young woman named Theresa Mendez was now something else. Something out of both nightmare and fantasy. There was no way she could go home, no way she could return to narcotics, no way she could see her family again. As an undercover officer for the city she’d been working to track down a new drug supply and had been days away from making the bust. Now....

Her head turned, looking over towards one wide wing now sprouting from her once unmarked back. Near madness had taken her, it’d been days before she finally came to her senses. Now... What could she do? Banking right she drifted towards an abandoned area of town, one she knew wasn’t even on the planning boards radar yet. Deep in its broken glass and steel skeletons of buildings was an unused water tower, a tower she now called home. Maybe if she could contact Master Mind or Shadow Woman. One of them might help her but how, short of becoming a criminal, could she find them? And why had wings grown from her back? Why not her arms like a bat? These questions and more spun through her head until she was nearly dizzy.

She knew she needed serious help getting her head straight, and fast.

Nearly a week later Theresa, or the thing that had been her stood silently on what was left of a rotting metal catwalk. Far below her, where her abandoned water towers legs came to rest in mounds of garbage several young men stood talking.

“Young men” she whispered to herself, knowing fully that those so far below her were nothing but street punks. Wanna be gang-bangers who’s idea of respect was completely one sided. What they were doing could be anything, chatting about the weather... a soft snort of amusement crossed that subject off her list. A drive by, party, girls, territory... any of hundreds of things. Not one legal.

Once an undercover police officer she was now... Looking at her arms Theresa had to admit, anything but human. Under the suns bright gaze her skin glistened as if made of uncounted tiny gems. Scales she knew, scales so fine they almost felt like skin. A rustle reminded her of scale covered leather wings that now adorned her back. No more swimsuits for her, no more admiring looks as she worked on a tan. Somehow Theresa was certain her new body couldn’t tan anyway.

Slipping back into the cooler darkness of the tanks interior she settled down just outside the suns reach. Too much sun overheated her and she started feeling weak. She was still learning about her new body, what it could and could not do. It was heat and cold, not light and dark that was now her enemy. No longer able to sweat she lost heat by her wings, and gained it the same way. Too much heat and she’d pass out but when Winter came she’d better have found a new place to live, because cold was going to be a terrible enemy to her if she couldn’t find a way to control her heat problem.

“Am I a reptile?” she asked herself, her new, elfen like voice echoing slightly within the old concrete walls. “I’m not human, but I’m warm blooded still. Didn’t Dr. Hargonson say reptiles are cold blooded?” Her wings fluttered, the way her new body shrugged. She could glide but not fly, at least so far no attempt to flap her wings had produced results. They reached all the way to her ankles when fully open, with offset knobs on the leading edge that allowed her to grip them, giving her more control. Thank goodness she wasn’t afraid of heights.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Asking herself such questions wouldn’t get her any answers. Anyway, she could feel her body changing, becoming better suited to its new shape. Whatever concoction had been given to her and the others had caused massive changes. It felt like she’d been twisted up inside and out, de-evolved then re-evolved into something new. “At least I still don’t have a taste for maiden Princess blood” she laughed, staring out into the late afternoon sky. “Or breath flames so maybe this problem will fix itself.”

Inside she knew it wouldn’t.

Sanity had been a near casualty of her change. Only her sense of humor had saved her mind from twisting into a darkness she’d never recover from. Only her hope that a cure could be found kept her sane, for the moment. Later other things would help, still it would probably always be an uphill battle against madness. Digging in trash cans for food hadn’t helped either. Right now however, she’d nearly kill for a burger & fries. And milk... The taste of chocolate called to her like a narcotic.

Darkness took its own sweet time coming but with darkness came the ability to move freely. Those below almost never looked up, while those that did could hardly see her dim shape against the night sky. Flickering through the cities sky again Theresa knew where she was headed. A friends apartment, a friend currently in New York on business. She needed human contact, any human contact even if nothing more than a phone call. There was someone she could call, someone who would talk and not shoot first. Maybe he could help.

“Detective Whitman” answered a tired voice almost an hour later. “How can I help you.”

“Arnold. This is Theresa. Theresa Mendez. Can we talk?”

“Theresa? Where the hell are you” the older man asked, his voice telling her he was suddenly very awake. “And what’s wrong with your voice?”

“I... I can’t say” she admitted, pausing long enough for another drink of fresh brewed ice tea. “You know I was working undercover. Something happened. I... I can’t come back. Ever. But I need help.”

“Someone else inside dirty?” Whitman asked. He and Theresa had known each other since childhood, then had worked together nearly two years before she went undercover. They were good friends, at least he thought they were.

“Northshore Elementary, second floor, room two ten” she answered. “One hour. Alone if you can, with the army if you need too.”

“One hour” Whitman repeated before the phone went dead. Room two ten was where he and Theresa had first met in fifth grade. As he grabbed his coat Whitman remembered the years spent chasing the dark haired woman, only to discover he never had a chance to be anything but a friend. She had trusted him with that knowledge. Now, he wondered, what was she going to trust him with?