Games People Play

You haven’t lived until you’ve had to outwit something that’s decided that you’d make a nice snack. That thought keeps going through my mind as I clamber over the rocks and fallen logs to escape my pursuer, a thirty-foot-tall dragon with long sharp claws and even sharper teeth. Frequently my feet slip on the rocks and logs, or they become tangled in the undergrowth, and I have to waste precious moments trying to free them. Right now, my main goal is to stay alive. To achieve that I am running toward an escarpment in the distance that hopefully has caves I can hide in.

But time isn’t on my side. I can hear the dragon in the distance, crashing through the forest. Apparently, the undergrowth has little effect on it coming after me, hot on my trail. I guess it could smell my scent on the broken branches I leave in my wake. I calculate the time it would take to reach the escarpment and the time it would take the dragon to reach me. I figure the dragon will reach me long before I reach safety. Not good. I need to try something desperate, something crazy.

A large stream runs next to my path. I jump in the frigid water and the shock momentarily stuns my body into rigidity. I shake it off and maneuver my way downstream, avoiding the trees and other debris in the water that may entangle me and drag me under. It’s risky but at least I’m making good time for once and this should cause the dragon to lose my scent. For the first time in days, I allow my mind and body to relax. The memory slowly drifts back to me of when this all started.

******

“Sure, that’s the deal. Survive a week in the forest and the gold is yours!” the old man says, leaning forward over the tavern table.

“No catches? Just survive one week, seven days. Correct?” I ask, sitting across from him.

“Yep. With no outside help,” he replies with a smile.

“And I can bring my own camping equipment, food, supplies and stuff?” taking another swig of beer.

“Sure. Just no weapons.”

“There has to be a catch, something you’re not telling me.”

“Well… there is one little detail,” he adds quietly.

“I knew it,” slamming my beer mug down on the table.

“You see, the forest is inhabited by this rather large creature most people commonly refer to as a dragon.”

“A dragon?” I ask incredulously.

“Yep. but he mostly keeps to himself. Rarely ventures outside the forest. Really not much of a problem,” the old says with a smirk.

“A large dragon in the forest isn’t much of a problem?” I ask, staring at him in disbelief.

“He doesn’t bother us, and we don’t bother him.”

“And how does it feel about people staying in its forest?”

“Well, that’s the part we’re not too sure about. People have gone in and come out after a few days, but they never said why,” he says, leaning back in his chair.

“They came out alive and whole?”

“Yep, said we could keep the gold and they left. The gold has sat there for years, in that chest,” he nods at a box in the corner.

“Hmmm. I’ll have to think about this.”

“Sure, come back anytime,” he replies, smirking at him again.

Anyways, that was over a month ago. The thought of all that gold in that chest kept preying on my mind until I decided to give it a try. I went back to the old man in the tavern and told him I was ready. After a few checks to make sure I had no weapons in my pack, they took me to the edge of the forest. It looked like any other forest that I had hiked and camped in. Nothing dark or foreboding about it. I walk in with my backpack and they all wave at me and wish me good luck.

After about two hours of hiking, I selected a good site and made camp. The first two days went quietly, and I was beginning to wonder if all this talk about a dragon was just a bunch of hooey, something to scare people with. I pass the time thinking about ways to spend that gold.

The third day is when things started to happen. I was eating breakfast when I heard something in the distance, like a crashing sound. Moving quietly through the underbrush, I went towards the sounds of thrashing. Peeking out from under a bush I saw in the distance a large creature that looked like the classical dragon from fairy tales. It must’ve been at least a hundred feet long including its tail, with large wings and long sharp teeth and claws. Emphasis on the long and sharp. The old man was right after all, I thought to himself, this creature looked like it could eat me in a single bite.

I carefully watched it from my hiding spot. The dragon didn’t seem to be aware of me, at least not yet. Suddenly it raised its head in the air and started sniffing the breeze. I could catch a whiff of the campfire and figured this is what the dragon smelled. This turned out to be true since it started to move in the direction of his campsite. I stayed hidden and watched it go past me, all one hundred feet of powerful, scaly, hungry reptile. Carefully I moved from my spot once it had passed and followed it from a fair distance behind while it tramped to my campsite.

Once there I saw it picking through various items. It looked inside the tent, picked up his backpack and sniffed the contents. It then raised its head in the air, let out a tremendous roar and stomped the ground, shaking the trees around it. It then moved off in a direction fortunately opposite from my location.

Waiting ‘til the creature was far away, I finally went to my campsite. Still shaking from what I saw, the first idea was to leave like so many others had done before me while I was still alive. But the thought of all that gold and what I could do with it overrode thoughts of self-preservation. The dragon had my scent, that much I surmised. All I had to do was to be aware of where the dragon was and try to stay downwind of it at all times.

Well, that idea worked for about two days, I think while floating down the stream. It quickly became evident that the dragon was hunting me, trying to find my scent. I don't light a campfire to cook anything, relying on the berries I found in the forest. I hid under leaves and stuff during the day, only venturing out in the early morning or evening. That was when the dragon spotted me in the distance and came roaring after me. I immediately hightailed it, running across the forest ground. That’s where I am now, fleeing for my life from a large, hungry animal that wants to make a meal out of me. At least the stream gives me a chance to rest and get my strength back. Or so I thought. All this thinking about how I first came to be in this predicament made me oblivious to the fact that the current had gotten faster from when I first jumped in.

Yes, the current is definitely getting faster and faster and stronger all the time. In the distance I can hear a dull roar. Immediately the thought of a waterfall with a long drop and sharp rocks below flashes into my mind. I start to move to the shore, but the current is strong, and the sound of the approaching waterfall is getting louder. The rocks are slippery and tree trunks bar my passage while the current keeps getting faster. The waterfall’s edge is only about a hundred yards away and I haven't gotten much closer to the edge of the river. Desperate, I try swimming with all my strength towards the shore without much luck. Fortunately, a trunk in the water provides something to grab onto and pull my way toward the shore. The waterfall is less than fifty yards away with nothing between me and the edge. This is my only chance. Reaching the end of the tree, I see the shore is still over twenty feet away, with only rushing water between me and safety. Hanging onto the roots, I can feel the ground beneath my feet for the first time. Leaning against the current, I slowly walk my way to the shore, knowing that if my feet slip then it is all over. Fortunately, the closer I get to the shore, the weaker the current becomes. At last, I reach dryland and fall down on the grass, exhausted from my ordeal.

After several minutes, I get up and walk to the waterfall’s edge and I see the hundred-foot drop that would have killed me if I had gone over it. In the distance I can still see the escarpment. If I can get there, I should be safe and wait out the remaining days. Looking around I can't hear or see any sign of the dragon. Slowly, I make my way down to the valley and start walking to the rocks ahead. Staying hidden, I finally reach a point where the rocks are only about a hundred yards away. The bad part is that it is open ground, no place for cover. The dragon will be able to see me, even from a distance. Circle around? Possible, but a long distance and I would still have to come out in the open... I think back to my high school days, what did I run the 100-yard dash in? A good time, but not track team quality. Thirty seconds or so of sprinting and I would be safe. I think about it for several minutes while observing the area and decide to chance it. No sign of the dragon anywhere. Slowly I move out into the open and start running. Just then the dragon bursts out of the edge of the forest where it had been hiding in wait for me. Clever son of a gun, I think. Sheer terror gives me extra speed and I run across the open field at a rate that would have impressed my high school coach. But I’m not fast enough. In a few moments the dragon cuts off my avenue of escape and I have to turn away to avoid it and it makes me run right into a dead end.

My back is now against a sheer rock wall. I scream in terror as the dragon rears up on its hind legs and raises its head to roar. Then it reaches out its claws to tear me to shreds. I scream again when the claws come down to slash me but stop when one lightly taps me on the shoulder.

“Tag! You’re it!” The dragon cries out and runs away into the forest.

THE END

Bio: “I have had stories published in anthologies like Of Poets, Spies and Unearthliness and Dickensian Steam Fantasy- A very different 1800's, both edited by Sergio Palumbo. I also had a story published in the December issue Schlock magazine with another due in July. I haven't written anything in over 40 years since my college creative writing classes and I am still learning.”...

E-mail: Randy Stuart

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