Dare to Believe: Teen & Young Adult Epic Fantasy Bundle (Series Bundle Andy Smithson Bk 4, 5 & 6): Dragons, Serpents, Unicorns, Pegasus, Pixies, Trolls, Dwarfs, Knights and More! Read online

  They glided over ranches. Grandpa and Madison gazed at the ground far below, clearly delighted. In the stillness, Andy could hear moos emanating from a herd of cattle directly below.

  “This is absolutely beautiful!” Madison declared several minutes later.

  “Now you know why I love flying Pegasus. I’ve never forgotten my first flight. I promised myself I’d fly again, and it’s become an obsession.”

  “I can see why,” Grandpa agreed.

  Nearly two hours into their flight, Mr. B asked, “I’d normally head back about now, but the wind currents are amazing today. Do you mind staying up awhile longer?”

  Andy, Madison, and Grandpa grinned, and Mr. B. chuckled, “Looks like I need to do some heavy arm-twisting.”

  Several minutes later, Andy spotted a black-feathered bird off in the distance and announced, “A crow!”

  Everyone looked, but Mr. B. shook his head. “That’s not a crow, it’s a vulture—crows don’t fly this high. Vultures have amazing eyesight. It’s probably hunting for breakfast.”

  Andy examined the bird more closely as they drew near. Still a ways off, he realized, That vulture’s enormous. It’s definitely bigger than… Andy gasped as he locked eyes with the zolt.

  “You okay, Andy?” Grandpa asked.

  Andy shook his head and dove for the floor, receiving curious looks from his companions.

  “What’s the matter? Afraid of a bird?” Madison joked. “Well, you don’t need to worry, it’s leaving.”

  Andy regained his footing, peered over the basket lip, and watched the bird grow smaller. It’s going for reinforcements!

  “I’d like to head back now, please,” Andy requested.

  Mr. B and Grandpa threw quizzical glances and Madison shook her head scowling, hands on her hips.

  “You’re scared of a vulture?” she whined.

  Andy refrained from response.

  Mr. B raised an eyebrow toward Grandpa. The old man didn’t respond, so the pilot concluded, “Very well. Let me contact my wife and have her bring the truck.” He picked up his radio handle and hailed.

  Several minutes later and close to the ground near their liftoff point, Andy scanned the skies and jiggled his leg.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Madison probed impatiently.

  Andy ignored her, continuing to study the surroundings.

  “Okay, bend your knees and prepare for impact,” Mr. B. instructed.

  Andy gripped the lip of the basket, watching the ground approach. Just before touchdown, he chanced another look to the skies and saw a flock of vultures quickly approaching.

  He barely heard the pilot say, “Don’t jump out until the envelope is completely down or the basket will bounce and drag us.”

  Come on, hurry up! Andy’s thoughts raced. The festival grounds lay a ways off. He quickly scanned for something to use as a weapon or for a place to hide Grandpa and the others. Nothing.

  “Watch your step,” Mr. B. finally announced.

  “Take cover!” Andy yelled. He flew out of the basket and bolted across the grassy field as a dozen zolt transformed. If I can just distract the zolt, they’ll be safe.

  Andy ran as fast as his legs would carry him. The distance had not seemed that far from the balloon, but as he raced, his lungs started to burn and a stitch stabbed his side. Barreling back onto the festival grounds, he heard a woman scream. The crowd hushed and all eyes turned toward the spectacle.

  The enemy took off after Andy at top speed, which thankfully amounted to not more than a fast waddle. Minutes later, Andy chanced a peek over his shoulder and saw he had out distanced them. But as he turned back he barreled straight into a uniformed officer, leveling both of them. Andy hit the ground, sprawling face-first, then scrambled up. But the officer grabbed his ankle and held him tight.

  “What’s the hurry, son?”

  “Let me go!” Andy protested, kicking the official’s hand, then looked up. His eyes grew wide.

  The officer followed Andy’s gaze and instantly understood. The zolt were thirty yards away and closing quickly, swords poised.

  The officer bolted upright, grabbed the radio handle from his shoulder, and called for backup, then drew his gun, assuming a ready stance.

  Andy did not pause to listen as the officer called after him. He darted into the crowd, hoping to lose his pursuers. He headed for the concession stands and only stopped when the fully mature stitch screamed from his side. Pausing next to a silver trailer selling funnel cakes, he scanned the skies. Good, no reinforcements yet. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and autodialed Madison.

  “Where are you? What are you doing?” his sister barked.

  Andy spotted three zolt circling.

  “I’ll meet you at Grandpa’s truck!”

  “Andy…”

  He hung up and ducked under the awning. He ignored Madison’s ringtone when it sounded from his pocket as he picked his way among a bevy of concession trailers and oblivious spectators. Rushing into a tent congested with celebrating balloon crews, he didn’t pause when an imposing official approached, informing, “I’ll need to see some identification, son.” Andy raced around the uniformed hippo, bounding through the makeshift kitchen and toppling several cooks who yelled insults at him from their food-covered seats on the ground. He braked long enough to scan the skies once more before bolting for a grove of shade trees standing watch over the endless sea of parked cars.

  No cover in the parking lot. Grabbing his phone he hit Madison’s number once more.

  “What?” Madison fumed.

  Breathing heavily, Andy yelled over his sister’s protests, “Have Grandpa meet me by the shade trees at the front of the parking lot!”

  “Andy…”

  “Tell him! Now!” Through the web of branches and leaves, Andy spotted a zolt swooping lower, headed toward him.

  “Andy!”

  “I’ll explain everything! Tell Grandpa!” Andy ended his SOS and scrambled up the lowest branches, trying to make himself invisible. He watched, frozen, as his enemy swept the topmost branches before alighting directly above him. Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.

  Andy dared not fidget. He tried to silence his heavy breathing as his ears tuned in to every creak of the branches and scuffle of the leaves. It felt like an eternity, but the enemy finally lifted off, allowing Andy to exhale.

  Several minutes passed before Grandpa’s white pickup slowly navigated the ruts. He dropped to the ground and scanned the skies. Clear for now. As soon as Grandpa stopped, Andy bolted for the passenger side, ripping the handle of the partially opened door from Madison’s hand. He bounded inside and slammed it shut.

  “Ouch! Get off me!” Madison yipped.

  “Go, Grandpa!” Andy commanded, ducking down.

  “Mind explaining yourself?”

  “I will once we’re on the road,” Andy replied from the floor.

  Grandpa raised an eyebrow and shook his head, but put the truck in drive.

  Headed for the ranch, Andy chanced a glance out the front window as he moved to the middle of the bench seat. Good, nothing airborne.

  “Well?” Grandpa questioned.

  Andy did his best to construct a believable narrative, leaving out the not-so-tiny detail about his pursuers being from another world.

  In the end, Grandpa concluded, “I’m not going to pretend I fully understand your story, but I will say this, I think you overreacted. The authorities had things well in hand. You didn’t stick around long enough to see them apprehend that gang. And I’m glad they did. They looked vicious…evil even. The TV crews had a field day. I’ll bet there’s a story on the evening news.”

  Andy did not respond. His mind was elsewhere, pondering the question that had been running laps around his brain since he first spotted the zolt: How did they find me?

  Four fifty-five and Grandpa nested himself in his well-worn lounger. Five minutes later and the opening notes of the Phoenix local news heralded this evening�
�s edition of thrills, chills, and ills.

  The anchor began, “Back in the fall, residents of a north side apartment complex found mold in their walls…”

  Must have been a slow news day, Andy thought.

  A story about an underperforming elementary school followed before the anchorman announced, “Maricopa County Sheriff’s deputies apprehended twelve illegal aliens at the Phoenix Hot Air Balloon Festival this morning. Our own Tim Bower was on the scene as events unfolded and is here to bring us the latest.”

  The scene shifted to an older gentleman in a blue plaid shirt standing in front of a mostly empty field that earlier had been populated with all manner of colorful dirigibles. The reporter began his story, quickly shoving the mic in front of Mr. Bitmire and asking his opinion of the strange and unexplained behavior of one of his young passengers.

  Andy squirmed as he saw footage of himself dashing toward the food trucks. Thankfully they only captured his back. As the reporter continued, the camera switched to close-ups of the zolt. The commentator followed with several soundbites from an interview with a deputy. “These are not the type of gang members we are used to dealing with. They came heavily armed with medieval broadswords…” The video showed the zolt being disarmed, handcuffed, and put in police cars as the officer continued, “We are asking for help locating the boy. Anyone with knowledge of his whereabouts is encouraged to contact the Sheriff’s office.”

  “What?” Andy exclaimed.

  Grandpa looked over at Andy with a grin. “Well, you’ve made quite a name for yourself. Do we turn you in?”

  Mom’s ringtone chirped from Andy’s pocket.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “I was surfing the Phoenix local news and just saw the story. What happened?”

  Andy quickly summarized and Mom asked him to hand his phone to Grandpa.

  “Yes, that’s right. That’s what he told me too.”

  The old man’s grin faded as he listened and nodded.

  “Do you really think that’s necessary? Seems like a big fuss…”

  More nodding.

  “They’re scheduled to fly back in two weeks, but…”

  Grandpa raised his eyebrows.

  “Alright, if you really want…”

  Head nodding.

  “I understand. I’ll make sure they’re on the nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Uh-huh. Yes. No, don’t worry, Emily. I know. They’ll be safe. Uh-huh. Okay…goodbye.”

  Grandpa handed the phone back to Andy. “You can guess what that was about.”

  Andy woke early. He yawned and rubbed sleep from his eyes.

  Knock, knock. “Come on, sleepyhead. Time to get moving. We need to leave in half an hour if you’re going to make that plane,” Grandpa announced.

  Andy slithered from under the covers and ambled over to the window. Pink and red hues blanketed the sunrise. In the distance he made out the form of a large black bird, circling.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Hide and Go Seek

  Andy downed his breakfast and dragged his suitcase to the front door, then returned to help Madison with hers to hurry her.

  “What’s your problem?” she grumbled, not fully awake.

  “All set?” Grandpa queried.

  Andy studied the skies before opening the door, receiving a raised eyebrow and a shake of Grandpa’s head.

  “All clear,” Andy informed.

  “Would you stop!” Madison hissed forty-five minutes into the hour-long ride.

  Andy had been glancing out the window like a twitching squirrel since they left the ranch.

  “Honestly, I’m with Grandpa. I think you and Mom are overreacting.”

  Andy chose not to reply as he again surveyed the skies.

  Several minutes later, Grandpa followed the signs to their terminal’s drop-off lane and Andy exhaled. Almost there.

  Andy sat crammed in the middle seat next to a guy who should have purchased two tickets. He felt like asking the brute if he wanted to sit in his seat too, but refrained. Madison had demanded the window seat and, considering the situation, he had chosen not to engage in battle.

  Now that they had taken off, Andy’s brain continued mulling over the question of how the zolt knew to look for him in Phoenix. I wish I could talk to someone in Oomaldee and see what they know. Oomaldee. Yes…why had he heard exactly nothing since he left nine weeks ago? He drew his hands over his face and forcefully exhaled, then thrust them forward into the seat in front of him. The occupant was none too happy.

  Mr. Seat Hog looked over and ran his eyes up and down Andy’s frame before returning his attention to a movie he watched on his computer. Madison ignored him, looking out the window.

  I know Father believes things should always be the way they are, but…how did the zolt get into this world? How did they track me? When will they find me again? I don’t want my family to get hurt.

  Halfway through the flight, Andy got up to stretch his legs. He scanned the heads of passengers on his way to the back of the plane and did a double take when he saw two beady eyes staring at him over a seatback. He felt his heartbeat quicken and instinctively reached for Methuselah without success. It wouldn’t dare attack me up here, would it? A fellow passenger seeking the lavatory reached him and Andy moved forward. Ten feet away he realized…Oh, it’s just that lady’s hat. He sighed. I’ve got to keep it together.

  Forty-five minutes later, Andy spotted Mom waving to him and Madison as they rode the escalator down to baggage claim. Never had he been so glad to see her.

  After exchanging hugs, Mom announced, “I just got off the phone with Grandpa. He said several zolt dressed as sheriff’s deputies paid him a visit this morning after he got back to the ranch.”

  Andy’s eyes grew wide and Madison stopped fidgeting with her book. She wrinkled her brow as she looked at Mom.

  “It’s okay. They didn’t do anything. They just asked him if he’d seen a boy fitting your description. They claimed they wanted to question you in connection with the incident at the hot air balloon festival. He said it was clear they didn’t know you’d left.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way,” Andy replied.

  “Grandpa asked me to extend his apology for not treating this more seriously. He didn’t realize the threat to you is real.”

  Andy nodded.

  “I don’t get it,” Madison interjected. “I thought the dweeb was trying to get attention. What would anyone want with him?”

  Mom let the name-calling slide, replying, “Let’s discuss it on the way home.”

  *****

  A week into the new school year, Andy sat in Mr. Hawkins’ social studies class listening to him lecture about life in early America. The man droned on about the settlers’ earliest lodgings and the perils they faced. Despite the promise Andy had made to himself to be more diligent with his studies now that he had started middle school, his mind drifted. I wonder where the zolt are. How can I contact Oomaldee? I’ve got to find a way.

  He didn’t know how long he had zoned, but his thoughts refocused at the teacher standing next to his desk asking, “What say you, Mr. Smithson?” A chorus of laughter told him he had been gone awhile.

  “Sorry, Mr. Hawkins. What was the question?” Andy felt his cheeks warming.

  “What is John Smith best known for?” the teacher repeated slowly.

  “Uh, isn’t he the guy who did something with that Indian lady?” Andy stammered, grasping.

  The teacher furrowed his brow and met Andy’s eyes. “Can you be more specific, Mr. Smithson?”

  Andy dropped his eyes to his desk and shook his head.

  “For tomorrow, you will all write a five-hundred-word essay on what John Smith is best known for.” Groans rippled about the room and his classmates’ dirty looks bore into his back. The man cleared his throat, “You will find your homework burden lighter if each of you reads and retains the assigned texts.”

  “On a different topic…” Mr. Hawkins continued, “since we will be studying
American history, both past and present, each week you will read a current news article and prepare a one-page summary. I will select several of you to present your synopsis before the class.”

  That evening, Andy perused several news websites. One article caught his eye.

  ATTEMPTED BREAK-IN AT THE CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY

  A group of six heavily armed gang members overpowered security guards at the Central Intelligence Agency headquarters in Washington D.C. Monday afternoon. Security cameras reveal the perpetrators carried broadswords and daggers and when requested to remove them for screening, refused, triggering a coordinated attack that killed five guards and left another five wounded.

  A spokesman for the CIA indicated the group made its way past the checkpoint and up to the fifth floor to the Information Operations Center. Employees delayed them until additional security arrived and took them into custody.

  Anita Boringer interviewed an employee from that department who requested we withhold her identity. “It was frightening. While these guys were relatively short, they had unusually long arms, beaklike noses, and beady eyes. They looked evil. They demanded help locating someone. Obviously we weren’t going to assist, but by the way they brandished their weapons it was clear we needed to stall, which we did, until help arrived.”

  The accused are being held without bail pending a full investigation.

  A drawing of the zolt taken into custody followed the article.

  Zolt tried to break into the CIA to find me? What, are they crazy?!

  “Mom, did you hear about this?”

  To say the information upset her would have been an understatement. “It was Phoenix a month ago and now this. Where will they show up next?”

  “But why would they have attacked the CIA?”

  Mom thought a minute before responding. “I remember when I first came to this world, I didn’t understand the meaning behind a lot of things. If you take the name Central Intelligence Agency literally...”