On My Way - Eve Langlais

Prologue

On December fourteenth, Canadian Corrections confirmed that Martin Dunrobin— currently being held without bail for attempted murder, assault, and arson—had escaped from a minimum-security prison in Southern Ontario. Per a news release, Mr. Dunrobin failed to appear during a head count, leading prison staff to discover the inmate was no longer contained within the facility. A search for his whereabouts is underway.

Martin Dunrobin was arrested several months ago in connection with numerous arsons, including that of his own home. At the time, Naomi Rousseau, his ex-wife, was living inside the home. While Mr. Dunrobin claims he never intended any harm, the prosecution is arguing that this was a murder attempt. After the fire that destroyed their family home, Ms. Rousseau moved away. Mr. Dunrobin is alleged to have followed his ex-wife to Canada, where he proceeded to stalk, harass, and even vandalize local businesses she happened to be a patron of. Mr. Dunrobin was arrested by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and deemed a danger to reoffend. Bail was denied while he waits for his court date.

At this time, it is not known how Mr. Dunrobin managed to escape; however, authorities are concerned about his current state of mind. A prison guard, who wished to remain anonymous, spoke of horrible things written on Mr. Dunrobin’s cell walls. In his words, “Very sick shit.” The escaped prisoner is considered to be armed and dangerous.

If you think you’ve seen Martin Dunrobin, do not engage. Please lock your doors and contact your local law enforcement.

1

The massive dragon head rose from the water, the ridges giving it a menacing shape. Its muzzle clamped shut, hiding its massive maw, its eyes alight with white fire. The only noise came from the water dripping from its moist, scaly skin.

Its unblinking gaze was fixed on me, keeping me frozen in place—which didn’t seem like a great idea because, when it smiled, its jaw unhinged and showed off its rather pointed teeth. There existed a strong possibility the dragon in the lake was related to a piranha. Which actually made it even worse. In the movie I’d watched featuring those sharp-toothed buggers, the water churned red when they fed. And if one was bad, imagine two or three of them.

I swallowed hard as I stared at the trio of bobbing heads, suspended on long necks. Or was it their bodies? Didn’t matter as they undulated and weaved over me.

No amount of Kegels in the world would have stopped me from peeing myself a bit.

What else could I do with a three-headed water monster swaying in front of me? It wasn’t as if I had a sword like some jacked-up superhero. I didn’t have a gun or even a fishing rod.

I had legs, but apparently they’d stopped working. I glanced down at my feet that suddenly weighed a gazillion tons. Trying to lift them proved impossible. I didn’t move the slightest bit.

If I could have, I would have run like I’d never run in my life, because I just knew this wouldn’t end well. While I couldn’t twitch a muscle, I could panic like a champ. My breathing hardened, huffing pants with a hint of holy-crap squeak. Those heads wove in slowly, moving closer. Ding Ding Ding. Lunch is served.

On the menu today, Naomi Tartare.

Run.

What was the point? I knew my limitations.

Run, you idiot.

My inner voice turned rude, but it had a point. I really should do something other than gape in petrified horror as the open maw on the middle head descended.

Move!

Too late. I was engulfed, which resulted in me marinating my pants. I also yodeled. “Argh!” Any moment, I expected the sharp crunch as I got chewed to bits.

It swallowed me! I stiffened, and then I went completely nuts, rolling and thrusting with arms and legs, only to be confined. Trapped.

Caught in my comforter.

The realization I fought my blanket caused me to pause. I hadn’t been eaten. Yay.

On the boo side, I really had peed myself. Getting old sucked. And it was more work, too! I’d have to wash the comforter, which was not how I wanted to start my day. Lying still, I blew at a hank of hair strung across my sweaty face.

Why me?

I should have been happy I’d woken in my bed, uneaten. Yet not only had I wet myself, I appeared to be wrapped in a tight cocoon. It took some grunting and effort, but I eventually managed to free an arm and a leg. However, my attempt to extricate my second arm saw