The monstrous dragon was spluttering and twisting wretchedly. Beneath it, Hank Hudson lay crumpled on the ground. “It can’t ignite,” murmured Jackaby.
Nellie Fuller crept toward us through the trench with her head ducked low. “You’re welcome,” she said, sliding down to sit with her back against the earthen wall. “But I think you might owe me a new camera.” In her hands was the slim tin case that housed her photographic plates. She clicked it shut and clutched it like a prize trophy.
“You shouldn’t be here,” said Jackaby, still peering tensely over the edge.
“I couldn’t leave without my picture,” she said, patting the little box triumphantly.
“We’ll be lucky to leave with our lives,” I said.
“That didn’t keep you away. I knew you weren’t the safe and happy type, Abbie.” She gave me a wink. “So, what’s our plan?”
“We need something more substantial than bullets and buckshot,” Jackaby said. “There. Hudson’s harpoon.” The weapon lay beside the trapper, glinting in the soft light of the campfire. “I think that may be our best chance, but we’ll need something to draw its attention before we can get—oh hell.”
The dragon had regained its focus. It hunched over Hudson and bared its fangs with a deep, echoing growl. My stomach lurched with a primal dread. “We have to do something!” I whispered frantically. “It’s going to kill him!”
“Keep this safe for me, would ya?” Nellie passed the tin photo case to Jackaby and pushed herself up. She slid a silver canister out of the pocket of her dress. The stubby tube of flash powder was capped with a simple cork. She stood and peered over the ledge.
Jackaby grabbed her jacket. “What are you doing?”
“I’m in the newspaper business, sweetheart.” She pulled away and hopped out of the trench. “Drawing attention is what we do.” The little cork dropped to the ground as Nellie launched into a run.
The dragon regarded her as she approached. Its lips pulled back in a terrible toothy grin, as though her charge amused it. She barreled forward undeterred and let the canister fly. It hit the campfire dead-on, and she threw an arm over her eyes as the whole world went white.
The brilliant burst remained painted across my eyes even when the flash had died away, and I strained to see through the afterimage. The blast had sent charred, glowing logs rolling along across the dirt, and gradually the outline of the hulking beast gained definition above them. Its head was turning this way and that as it tried to shake off its own blindness. It took me another moment to find Nellie. She was at Hudson’s side, straightening with the harpoon gun in her grasp. The weapon’s stock was broad, its barrel like a bulky cannon, but she held it firmly and spun toward the colossus.
Nellie Fuller was the very picture of greatness, brave and unstoppable—until the beast’s jaws closed around her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I watched in horror and disbelief. The creature’s long, wicked fangs sank deep into Nellie’s torso, and the harpoon gun dropped to the ground. With a toss of its head, the dragon whipped Nellie high into the air. She landed atop the fossils with a sickening thump, as lifeless as a rag doll.
I felt numb. The world was spinning. I was going to be sick.