Pact of Dragons

4

Just don't look back... Best not to look anywhere anymore, Rahel thought to herself, not for the first time, taking a deep breath and grimly clenching her hands into hard fists at her sides. Listlessly, she trudged after the other prisoners, past the stony-looking guards, over to the airplane door. Even before she got out, she noticed the crazy heat of the environment, which was so completely different here. Enraged by the incompetent idiots who hadn't even given them appropriate clothing for the climate, she pulled off her relatively thick jacket and left it lying on the floor behind her, for here, a hot, tropical wind was blowing in at the door, strong enough to take her breath away, pulsing like a living wall, something running along beside her that she'd have to somehow pass through.
The other girls, just as surprised, were all groaning, gasping, and shedding layers, too, or at least pushing up the sleeves of their long shirts. Someone could have at least given them sunglasses, Rahel thought—the light here was steely, shimmering bright.
She walked sullenly, combing her hip-length hair from her face and then, lacking a hair band, simply throwing it back behind her shoulders in annoyance. She adopted an extremely sinister expression as she descended the stairs, aware again of the druggy girl behind her, who, about ready to enter the stratosphere from all the drugs she'd just scarfed, had to be supported from both sides.
No surprise there.
"Line up here...! Faster, please!" the guards now called out in different languages. Rahel focused on the one speaking English. "We don't have all day. And the dragons are coming. You will be selected by one of them—it doesn't take long, I promise. This time, the dragons all come from the same clan, which means that you'll be able to stay together as a group, as you are now. When the dragons arrive, I don't want to see any of you trying to escape. Believe me, it could get really ugly if you do. These particular creatures don't take kindly to cowards." The guard adopted a wide-legged stance to match his bluster and continued. "First of all, the leader of this group, who is usually a really brutal guy, chooses one of you and only then is it the other male dragons' turn. You can make an advance on your own, if you like one of them based on looks alone, but it may well be that they'll get into it with each other over you—if that happens, just keep still. They usually take care not to hurt you girls in their skirmishes."
Usually? Rahel thought, strangely calm and clear-headed as the girls around her became more and more agitated, milling around and exchanging a lot of hysterical looks.

Odd that she didn't feel a thing anymore, not even fear. Just now, in the plane, it had occurred to her that, right about then, she should be panicking... But she hadn't. She looked around soberly; she was standing at the back because all the others had started crowding towards the front, where the guards were—with their guns.
As though guns would help at all, against real dragons. And these were only stun guns for humans—at least, that's what her father had told her a couple years ago, when she'd wondered aloud what they were.
The general's loud voice carried to her again. He'd left the head of the line and come towards the back to jostle against her, doubtless because she wasn't looking at him during his little performance piece up front. The druggy girls weren't paying attention either though, or any of the gang-hos.
"A tip for you sensitive girls: the types who look biggest and baddest are usually the most easy-going. On the other hand, the guys who look totally normal are the ones you really have to watch out for. Show them your fear and they'll either be repelled or, in the other direction, be immediately into you and only choose you to torment you. That's just a word of warning.
"Again, for those of you not paying attention! When the Leader is making his choice first, better to look him in the eye without fear, if at all possible. As I said, dragon chiefs are really brutal and they'll seek out a weak, fearful victim.
"Rumor has it the one who is chosen by the Leader will have a pretty exciting life in front of them, because your being chosen is considered a very desirable thing—something they'll fight over. And when they can't beat the Leader, his possessions become the goal of attacks. So, you can imagine, better to be strong because, on this island? It's survival of the fittest. Never forget that. To the victor the spoils—got it?
"From what we hear, last year not even half of the girls survived, so be careful how you behave with them—don't insult them; it's best to obey."
Rahel wasn't listening anymore. The jerks could go run their mouths to their grandparents, who surely wouldn't believe it, either. Sure, there were still survivors from last year; yeah, right. It was as unbelievable as the horde of gigantic dragons that descended, right then and there, from the sky, landing on the ground in huge leaps and earth-shattering bounds, their flailing wings causing hurricane-like windbursts, one after the other, all the while hissing and snapping at each other, before ultimately turning into a bunch of young men who looked astoundingly human—except for their glowing eyes.
Rahel's heart nearly stopped with the horror, the terror of it. God...! Most of the girls had screeched and ducked, covering their heads with their arms. Even the guards had, for a second, in sheer reflex, before straightening up and standing to attention—but it was more show than anything.
Geez...
For the dragons in human form now bore down on them with their molten eyes, coming nearer in quick tempo. What were they for lookers? First these enormous beasts with thick scales and plated abdomens and backs, most of them dark—gray, brown, or black, with lighter stomachs; then they'd transformed themselves into almost human men, and very attractive ones, at that. God, how they were dressed...like something straight out of Hollywood. All of them in dark gray, brown, or black leather over lighter shirts. All of them were rebellious, wild, dangerous, a rough mix of athletes, overgrown, muscle-bound wrestlers, and dumb-looking hulks nearly as wide as they were tall.
Wow...!