CHASING THE DRAGON

CHASING THE DRAGON

Evan slapped at the mosquitoes that thronged around his head, it wasn't so much the bites that bothered him, it was the endless droning of their frantic little wings creating that irritating noise that never ceased. They were his bete noir, his black beast, his nemesis, his curse, his plaque.

There were few things that bothered Evan in life as much as the tiny mosquito. He couldn’t help himself, he had always had an intense hatred of the pesky creatures. He could walk through a herd of horned cattle with not a qualm in the world, face down a terrorist attack, or calmly face a gang of drugged-up, hopped-up bikers. But to face a herd, no flock, make that a swarm of mosquitos, well it put him right on the edge. He had once spent an entire night in a tent with a couple of dozen of the nasty little critters and had not been able to sleep the entire night.  He had buried his head under the blankets but that hadn’t drowned out the incessant buzzing, so he tried the pillow with no success. Tossing turning waving his arms, slapping, nothing had worked. He was at the point of no return, on the verge of crying,  unbelievable, he was a career military man, a lifer,  but then, add one mosquito to the equation and he became a sobbing mess, brought down by a creature so small that you could barely see it.

It started to rain, not a few drops here and there but a heavy downpour, a deluge, The mosquitoes who generally don't mind a few drops here and there were finally driven away. Most mosquitos love the rain because this is when they lay their eggs and somewhere between twenty-four and forty-eight hours later, thousands more mosquitos hatch, but these huge drops proved too numerous and heavy for their fragile wings.

Evan gave a huge sigh of relief. He was soaked to the skin in minutes but he didn't care. As long as the cloud of mosquitos didn't surround him, he was good to go. The forest gave way to grassy hillsides and the hillsides to rugged cliffs. It was getting cooler now too. He drew the drawstrings on his jacket even closer to his face and climbed on. The rocks were slippery but he had always been as sure-footed as a mountain goat, besides, there wasn't any place to pitch a tent on the side of the cliff; it was either press on or go back down and Evan wasn't a man to back down from a little cold, a little rain, or any challenge for that matter. He never let anything stand in his way. Unless it was a swarm of mosquitos. At last, he reached the top and stood momentarily to survey the view from the top of the cliff. The view was breathtaking. A stream snaked through the small valley, barely discernable through the wall of rain, The trees were dark gray against the lighter gray of the sky, and the cliffs themselves were a midtone gray. Very monochromatic and drab but undeniably beautiful.

There was little vegetation at the top of the cliff. One or two valiant fir trees held on to the rock, their roots constantly seeking the handfuls of dirt that existed on the cliff. Evan strode over to the brave little conifers, and using them as one would an umbrella he put his backpack at the base of one. He untied his tent from the ties on the bottom of his pack and, with a flick of his wrist, and with well-practiced ease, he opened his tent. It snapped open immediately with a satisfying snap.

 Unzipping the tent he placed his backpack inside and followed it in the tent. He unpacked his backpack, guzzled some water, and grabbed a granola bar to nibble on while he started hydrating some freeze-dried beef stew. He sat at the entrance to his tent and set up his cooking arrangements, the small awning provided only minimal coverage for his cooking but if the gel got too wet, he would simply eat cold stew. He’d done it before, in fact, he remembered the half-raw iguana that he had eaten in Honduras. Now that was a mission he would never forget. This one seemed to pale in comparison. It seemed fairly straightforward.

 The briefing had been short and direct. Four men had been sent out several weeks ago to investigate a disturbance in the far north. On the second day of their mission all communication had been lost, A ground satellite had somehow been destroyed. Recon aircraft had sent back some disturbing photos of the site. What the disturbing photos were, was said to be classified and above his pay grade. Evan had bitten his tongue to hold back his remarks. He was often disciplined for his outspoken tongue in circumstances like this. He was a military man, willing to put his life on the line for his country yet sent out with no clue as to what he was about to face. All they said was that the pictures were very blurry and something big had taken out the tower. Okay, so they wanted to play that way. He was game. 

Evan spent a restless night,  he tossed and turned on the rock base. In the morning he arose early and unzipped the tent. He had just stepped out when he realized that the mosquitoes were back, he could feel them, sucking out his blood. Their wings still created that endless droning noise. He grabbed his coffee pot and started contemplating breakfast before renewing his mission when a sudden roar disturbed the peaceful serenity of the morning.  The creature must be huge to create such a noise. The birds in the trees suddenly did a mad exodus, they flew as one from the branches, where only moments before they had been sweetly serenading the sunrise.  He threw the miniature coffee pot back in his tent and grabbed his assault rifle and backpack. There was no time to waste.  He had to find the source of the roar. This could be what he had been sent to discover. There were loud crashes in the trees that grew away from the cliff's edge. He followed the crashing sounds and came across many giant branches freshly severed from their trunks, their leaves quivering in indignation. He followed the broken trail but saw no sign of his quarry. At last, he reached the summit and there it was, overlooking the valley below. It stood in all its glory. A dragon, almost but not quite hidden by an outcrop of rocks and vegetation. It was immense, the dark green scales covered its body, like body armour. He could see that the belly was a faded green colour and its head a brighter hue. It almost reminded him of what he was wearing, his own camouflage changed from dark to middle to light green, the perfect way to blend into the background, undistinguished from the landscape around him. A branch snapped under his foot, sending a crack like a rifle shot into the still morning air. The dragon turned his way and gave a snort which sent out a small burst of flames and a puff of smoke.  Evan could smell the brimstone, that acrid odor of sulfur. The creature then turned and ambled slowly down the cliffside.

Evan’s heart was in his mouth, he had never seen a dragon before. He had formulated a scenario in his head about this mission. Bigfoot, crossed his mind,  sasquatch sightings were always fairly common up here in the north, bears, giant grizzlies or Kodiak bears even. But never, not even once had he even remotely considered a dragon. It was moving quickly now and he had to run to keep pace with it. Heck, who was he kidding, it was far ahead of him, he could see its breath far ahead and followed the trail of vapour through the woods that it had entered. For a time he lost sight of it, relying on sound as the dragon moved to a lower atmosphere and its vapour trail could no longer be seen. He hurried on, pell-mell down the steep slope, falling over broken branches and potholes in the forest floor. Over and over he tumbled, and fell down, each time picking himself up as he continued chasing the dragon.

 He followed the dragon for hours, seldom catching a glimpse of it. He began another uphill trek, he was panting now but his mission was still in front of him. The landscape was somehow becoming strangely familiar, and then he realized the dragon had taken him in a gigantic circle, down the steep hill across the valley floor then up the same cliff. Once again he broke through the trees and once again the dragon stood on the verge of the cliff, looking out at his domain. He grabbed his assault rifle, took his stance, and prepared to fire.

He couldn’t do it.  It was as simple as that. After years of following orders, he just couldn't pull the trigger. Not on something as magnificent as the dragon. Somewhere between falling down running down the cliffside and running along the winding valley floor and climbing up with a pair of lungs on fire. He had come to like the dragon. He wasn’t sure whether he would call it Elliot or Puff, but they had connected. Whenever he thought the trail was hopeless,  and he no longer knew in which direction the dragon had gone, the dragon would pause and let out a puff of smoke or a low roar to let him know where he was. He had finally come to the conclusion that the dragon was playing with him, baiting him. Toying with him like a cat plays with a mouse.

He shook his head and leaned his exhausted body against a pine tree. He lifted the rifle and tried again but still couldn't do it. The dragon turned and looked directly at him, he could have sworn it winked at him, and as the sun set in the distance, the dragon flew away, and the dragon chase was over. He fell to his knees and then on his face and lay on the forest floor panting.

*******

 “Code blue.” said the medic into his walkie-talkie, “I repeat, we have a code blue in the veterans parking lot. I need a team down here stat.”

Seconds later, team members came running from all directions of the veterans hospital.

“What have we got here?” asked one of the doctors on staff as he bent to kneel beside Evan.

“I found him like this,” said the young medic. “He was on his face and he was panting heavily. I turned him over and he was mumbling something; something about his mission, giant mosquitos, and brimstone, and oh yeah, something about chasing dragons. What’s wrong with him?”

“These vets, some of them have seen so much horrific action in their days, they experience PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder.” It was Howard from imaging. “But how the devil did he get outside? I have seen this guy around the place before. How did he manage to get out of his locked ward?”

“ Hey, I know this guy," said Nurse Trisha as she arrived on the scene. “This guy is on my ward. His name is Evan Woods. It’s not the first time he has escaped. Apparently, he was a top military man, he has a slew of medals, you know,  chest candy. Every now and then he sneaks out. He’s like Houdini.  Seems to be able to go through any locked door when he has a mind to. He did intelligence work so getting in and out of locked rooms is probably his specialty. He is also a drug addict. Coke, Heroin, LSD. PCP, ecstasy, you name it, he’s used it. He's traveled the world on various missions and apparently, done some very interesting drugs in some dark corners of the world. That’s why he is in the locked rehab ward. He’s a very interesting case. Whenever we have to take blood he goes on and on about giant mosquitos sucking his blood. We often find him sleeping on the cold hard floor instead of in his bed. He often relives his days of chasing the dragon.”

“Well, someone's head is going to roll for this escape,” said the doctor. He motioned to several orderlies who were coming out with a gurney.

“He was saying something about giant mosquitos, and climbing cliffs chasing dragons.”

“Drugs man. He's talking about drugs,” said Howard.

“What?”

“Yeah, chasing dragons, chasing after that elusive high, heroin. They place heroin on some tin foil and use a lighter or something underneath it to heat it up. It makes a nice puff of smoke. The addict tries to get that high like the first time they tried it, or the ultimate high. Look for the rush.

Messes with the brain big time, all that nice little white matter up there eventually turns to mush You can have hallucinations for years after you stop taking drugs, obviously, Evan here is experiencing just that..”

“Well, let's get Evan back to his room. What will they think of next? Imagine, chasing dragons.”