The Shadow Above The Flames: The Fate of Dragons Series, #1

By Daniel Swenson

You'd better pray your M16 assault rifle can slay a dragon.

Henry Morgan's post-military plans were simple: quiet days, normal life. But once the Union Forest Corporation accidentally awoke a long-forgotten dragon from its slumber beneath the fields of Ireland, "normality" ceased to exist.

Union Forest is far less concerned about the dragon terrorizing the planet than they are about protecting their own corporate assets. Somewhere in the drilling-site the dragon now calls home, there's a data core the company desperately wants to retrieve.

When Henry learns his estranged brother Rick is among the force of elite commandos sent by Union Forest to battle the danger at the drilling site, he's forced back into his old roles of soldier and protective older sibling. He'll do everything he can to save his brother . . . including risking his own life at the hands of a ruthless corporation.

 

"An awesome premise combining old and new. Tons of fun."
- Dan Wells, New York Times bestselling author of "I Am Not A Serial Killer"

 

"Swenson updates the Dragon-Hunting genre for the twenty-first century. The Shadow Above the Flames delivers a fire-belching thrill a minute, sure to please fans of both Larry Correia and Jim Butcher."

- D.J. Butler, author of Witchy Eye

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daniel Swenson
• Release date: Jun 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386873440

Book preview

Prologue

Agiant fireball lit up the sky as an ear-deafening explosion rocked the small Irish village of Ardmore. Spiraling gouts of flames erupted from the Union Forest drilling site, causing the ground to shake throughout the village. Many of the nearby buildings gave way to the tremors while the villagers ran in panic.

Amongst the commotion, a dark, infernal form climbed to the rim of the massive hole and flew out of the hellish firestorm. Death wandered the streets with glee as the creature unleashed its fury. Its evil designs rained down chaos upon the village.

Enormous balls of fire belched from the sky, as if by magic, decimating everything they touched. Buildings, benches, street signs, even cars exploded upon contact. The villagers ran, desperately seeking shelter as fast as their feet could carry them. The wind whipped through the village, tossing villagers around like rag dolls. Screams echoed off the walls of the buildings along the streets while more flames rained down from the pitch-colored clouds above. Some of the villagers attempted to put out the flames with their meager garden hoses, spraying water on the flames. Nevertheless, the water, which would normally extinguish the flames, only fanned the flames to greater intensity as though the residents sprayed kerosene on them. It was as if the very laws of nature had been rewritten.

When the firefighters finally arrived on the scene, they immediately battled the flames. However, as soon as they rolled out their hoses, the Beast flew down out of the clouds in all its terrible glory. Terror gripped the hearts of everyone who witnessed its stocky, elongated body with its muscular limbs. A row of spines ran down its back, separating its obsidian scales that reflected like sheets of dark glass. Its head was wide with dark red malevolent eyes that burned with their own inner light. The firefighters froze as the creature swooped down, engulfing them in flames.

The nearby villagers cried out as the creature swiveled its body in the sky, returning for another pass. It opened its maw and a stream of flame rushed out, melting and destroying everything in its path. As the creature swooped past, it reached out with one of its mighty reptilian legs and dug its claws deep into the metal frame of the fire engine. The foul thing scooped up the several-ton vehicle and swooped back into the sky with ease. It hovered in the air, gripping the twisted metal frame of the fire engine, and surveyed the destruction below. Its eyes gleamed with glee, and a wicked toothy grin creased its infernal face in satisfaction.

The creature spotted a small group of villagers running and dodging the flames desperately searching for a place of safety. It roared and threw the massive vehicle aside as if it were nothing more than a broken, discarded child's toy. The fire engine slammed into the side of an old market, killing everyone inside.

It bellowed a triumphant cry and then swooped down upon the fleeing villagers, incinerating them before ascending into the dark clouds.

None of the villagers were safe from the creature's fury.

After centuries of slumber, the creature awakened to the cravings of death and ash. For hundreds of years, it had slept deep beneath the surface of the earth undisturbed until the incessant noise of the Union Forest drills that had burrowed down into its home had rudely awoken it.

The local government had commissioned Union Forest to drill for oil in the small village of Ardmore after the discovery of a new, deep, and potentially valuable deposit of the black liquid. Many governments had been desperately seeking new deposits of oil and fossil fuels since the oil fields in the Arabian Desert had dried up. Every country worked to find the next big score, including the Irish government, which had hired Union Forest to bore deep into the earth to search for new sources of oil. After the discovery of a new, deep, and potentially valuable well of black liquid, the local government had commissioned Union Forest to drill for oil in the small village of Ardmore.

Instead of vast deposits of black gold as expected, the drilling team stumbled upon something locked away, thought lost to the world. This unexpected discovery had come with a price because of the ancient and sinister evil they found instead.

Dragon Image

Chapter One

Henry Morgan slapped his hand down on the alarm clock, turning off its annoying chirping and knocking it from its perch upon his nightstand. The morning sun glared through a small opening between his curtains, which beat upon his face. He rolled over and pulled the covers over his head, not yet ready to face the world. The chirp of the alarm resounded from somewhere near the floor. Perturbed, he tossed the covers to the side and sat up, stifling a yawn.

Most of the night Henry had tossed and turned because of a strange reoccurring dream, filled with men adorned in armor fighting off creatures of darkness, and men cloaked in mystical robes chanting in fields. Every time the dream came to him, Henry woke up more tired than when he had gone to bed.

Needing to wake up, Henry grabbed the television remote that sat on the nightstand and bringing the television to life. Immediately, a breaking news report flashed across the screen, reporting that thousands of Pakistanis were dead.

Henry climbed out of bed nearly tripping over the alarm clock. He groaned as he headed for the bathroom due to the pain that flared up from his stubbed toe. The reporter continued to report about the tragedies overseas while Henry disrobed. He shook his head in dismay. It seemed as though the media just wanted to glorify the death and destruction that happened on a daily basis.

Henry knew the reports were true because he had seen much of it firsthand during his years stationed overseas; many of those years were in the Middle East—an area that had always been full of strife and turmoil but went rabid when the oil fields dried up.

Henry turned up the volume on the television before climbing into the shower to clean up for work. While he washed his hair, he chuckled at how boring his life had become since those days in the Middle East. After serving two extended tours in Afghanistan as a combat specialist and field medic, he had seen enough horrors to last a lifetime. The warm cascading water of the shower helped to soothe away the painful memories. A second alarm sounded and Henry quickly turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry himself off.

As he walked out of the bathroom and crossed the room of his meager Brooklyn apartment towards the dresser, he shook his head and quickly took in the place. It had only been two years since he left the military, and compared to what he'd been used to back in Afghanistan, this apartment was a palace.

After putting on his black Union Forest-issued trousers, Henry sat down on the bed and mused over how his bunk space wasn’t any bigger than the military issued aluminum folding cot in a screened tent. The tent had been barely large enough for the cot to fit inside. They were annoying but necessary in the wastelands because they kept out swarms of insects, camel spiders, and scorpions.

After the first few months in Afghanistan of frantically searching for small bothersome pests every night, Henry had eventually grown accustomed to bugs and other creepy crawlers. He would often find them in his boots, on the floor, or climbing up his towel as he showered. They’d been part of the landscape and everyday life.

Henry slipped on his black socks and sighed. He missed those simple, uncomplicated days and yet hated them at the same time. He could still recall that day several years back when he was in Afghanistan and the Union Forest disaster in Ireland had happened.

The news trumpeted the devastation of the event. Many believed the apocalypse had come from a creature that seemed to have crawled out of the very depths of hell. Henry had thought he had seen every horror imaginable, but, unfortunately, for him and millions of others, the universe had proved them wrong.

Henry and a few others from his platoon had been watching a football game when the news came on interrupting the game. They watched in disbelief as the news showed footage of a winged serpent destroying some small villages over in Ireland. They watched in horror as the creature tore through a nearby news chopper killing everyone inside. Then the thing banked to its right and flew off towards the eastern horizon to begin its quest to ravage the rest of the world. From that day forward, humans were no longer on top of the food chain, this ancient creature was.

Ireland and most of the United Kingdom was the first to fall. The creature wreaked havoc across the English countryside killing, burning, and destroying anything that stood in its way. During those frightful days, Henry's platoon had received orders to pull out of Afghanistan and fly into the devastation that had been London.

The mission had been a simple one. His team was to fly in and pull out the queen along with her family and other members of parliament. Unfortunately, when they arrived, all that remained of Buckingham Palace was a hulking pile of smoking ash.

Henry ran his hand across his stubbled chin as the memories of the grisly scene replayed in his mind. The devastation of London continued to haunt him from time to time, especially whenever he was near a campfire or at a friend's house for a barbecue. The smell of burning wood or meat instantly brought back the ghastly memories.

Henry scooped up the remote, quickly changing the channel to turn his thoughts to something new. The television clicked over to channel thirty-two where a local televangelist was being interviewed.

My brothers and sisters, the end of the world is nigh! We have lived too long in the land of sin, and God has sent The Beast to wreak havoc upon the world and deliver judgment upon us all.

The interviewer blinked, trying to remain stoic. So you believe the Beast was sent here by God?

Yes, I believe this creature is the black horse spoken of in Revelations. I’m sure you are aware of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse.

The interviewer appeared a bit unsure how to proceed at this point. He looked down at the papers on his desk, appearing more than a little flustered because the televangelist had somehow turned the interview around on him. Luckily, he was a professional, so he continued.

So let me get this straight. According to you, this creature is one of the horses spoken of in the New Testament, and God has sent it here to destroy us because we have fallen out of his favor, and we’re basically doomed?

We can be saved! the televangelist said as he jumped out of his chair and raised his right hand into the air. The final bell has not yet tolled, and this creature can be defeated and sent back into the spiraling depths of hell, if only we will supplicate to his will and repent of our inequities and sin!

Henry rolled his eyes in disbelief and clicked off the television. He tossed the remote onto the bed and went to search for his comb.

Growing up, Henry and his younger brother, Rick, had spent many summer weekends going to church with his grandparents. In fact, many of the preachers had sounded just like the one from the TV. It seemed to Henry that there had always been something those preachers had to say about the end of the world and how we're all going to hell.

However, those weekends weren’t all that bad. He had several fond memories of his grandparent's home in upstate New York. Their grandfather had spent many nights retelling wondrous stories of knights and wizards battling giant serpents of fire. Those visits had been something special to him, especially since it allowed him and Rick to escape the troubles that were brewing at home between their parents.

However, due to what had happened in Ireland, those stories were no longer simple fairytales; the creatures from them were real monsters of flesh and blood.

As he combed his hair, something nagged at him from the back of his mind. Had those stories been passed down through the generations to warn humanity of the evil that had been hidden away for centuries? Had humanity chosen to forget and ignore these messages and then turn them into entertainment? He sat the comb down, quickly brushed his teeth, and put on his black buttoned-up shirt with its Union Forest security patch that rested above his left breast.

Henry despised his job, but many companies wouldn't hire ex-militaries these days. The job itself wasn't too bad. He only disliked it because of a co-worker named Smythe who made it his personal mission to make Henry’s life a living hell.

Henry knew he should have requested a transfer to the Union Forest facility in South Carolina months ago because the promotion he’d been up for and deserved would never come. Smythe made sure of that. However, he continued to hang around just in case Rick ever returned. Plus, there was a cute little blonde barista named Carly at the local coffee shop, who had the most amazing smile.

Henry glanced at the clock and realized he was running out of time. He quickly finished tying the laces on his boots, grabbed his jacket, and exited his apartment.

After a quick swipe of his hand across the display panel of his apartment’s security system outside his door, Henry popped in his ear buds, pressed play on his music player, and proceeded down the hall towards the elevator. Once the elevator reached the ground floor, Henry exited and waved to his neighbor, Charlie, from apartment A214, who was collecting his mail.

Charlie looked up from the mail he was sorting. Hey, Henry. How‘s life?

Same as usual. Just on my way to work.

Henry noticed that Charlie gave a half smile at his response. What are you grinning about?

Charlie finished sorting through his mail and tossed a few in the trashcan below the mailboxes.

So . . . I guess you’ll be stopping by the ‘coffee shop’ then?

Henry did his best to hide the discomfort that blossomed inside his chest. He could easily confront a squad of insurgents, but when it came to people talking about his love life, he always became extremely uncomfortable.

Why would you ask that? Henry croaked.

Oh, I don’t know? Charlie said. Maybe it’s the fact that every day for the last four months, you’ve made sure to stop in for a cup of coffee on your way to work. Not even I love coffee that much. Plus, doesn’t that company you work for have a cafeteria where you can eat for free?

Yeah, something like that. Henry fidgeted a bit and then glanced down at his watch. Look at the time. I hate to cut our conversation short, but if I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for work.

Okay, have a great day, and say hi to Carly for me.

Henry waved goodbye as he rushed out the door, leaving a chuckling Charlie behind.

A group of kids scattered as the door to the building burst opened before them. Henry watched the small ragtag band race back down the sidewalk, pretending they were adventurers running from a horde of angry cannibals. It was rare to see kids playing out in the streets these days, not like when he and his brother were younger. The world had gone to hell over the last five years, and almost everyone along the Atlantic Coast lived in fear.

No one knew if or when the Beast would strike. It didn't happen often, but it did happen. Many families packed up their belongings, making the move out West. Those unfortunate souls who couldn't make the move hunkered down in their homes and rarely let their children outdoors.

As Henry walked down the street, he switched his gaze from the kids to the city around him. Much of the New York landscape had changed dramatically. Manhattan was no longer a bustling city filled with millions of people and numerous taxicabs. Instead, all access to the island had been cut off by the military as it was covered by a vast jungle of trees and dangerous vegetation. Many of the large skyscrapers were now ruined and twisted husks of what they had once been. The manicured landscape of Central Park had also changed during the Beast's stay. The growth rate of fauna in the park had increased so much that most of Times Square had vanished under a tangle of monstrous vines and other immense vegetation expanding from the park. The Beast’s presence also affected the animals across the island both in and out of the zoo. Horror stories of giant rats crawling out of the sewers had suddenly become true.

Buildings were no longer higher than six stories tall, and there were no bright neon signs or LCD screens. Many believed that the bright neon lights attracted the Beast’s attention. Because of this, cities would descend into darkness at night, fearing they would attract the Beast's wary gaze.

Brooklyn had been fortunate to have large companies like Union Forest move in with plenty of money to revitalize and clean up the city after the attack. Now, the city thrived with the infusion of revenue coming from the business even though they were so close to the quarantined island.

Henry continued to listen to his music as he walked down 20th Avenue. The slightly overcast sky promised rain in the next day or two. Nowadays, water was a valued commodity, and no one could afford to use it to wash the streets or buildings. In fact, if you were found doing so, it was a three-thousand dollar fine.

Henry stopped to pick up a newspaper for his ride into work and immediately regretted doing so. On the front page, there was an article about how the government had elected to move the nation's capital to Lebanon, Kansas.

It's a shame what they're doing. Don't you think? the newspaper stand worker asked.

Henry realized the man was trying to ask him something, so he clicked off his music.

What was that? Henry asked.

The stand owner pointed at the cover of the newspaper. It's a shame they're moving the country's capital to some shit hole in Kansas. I don't care if this Lebanon is centrally located in the middle of the country or not. I think all these congress types just want to save their asses and get as far away from the eastern seaboard as possible. They couldn't give a rat's ass about us little people, ya know?

Henry didn't want to get into a debate with the man, so he reached for his wallet. How much do I owe you?

Six seventy-five.

Henry swiped his card across the panel on the counter. The owner thanked him and turned to talk with another customer. As Henry walked away, a football, thrown by a couple of boys heading towards Milestone Park, knocked the paper out of his hands. He bent over to pick it back up and thought, Today is going to be one of those days, and then started off again.

The next two blocks passed by in the blink of an eye, and he arrived at his favorite stop of the day. The coffee shop had once been owned by a powerhouse coffee company called Star Ducks, or something like that. Henry could never remember its name. He reached for the door as it burst open, and out walked a frustrated and surprised Carly.

Oh, hi, Henry. How are you?

Henry stood there, startled and mesmerized by Carly's sudden appearance. While temporarily paralyzed, he watched her rich golden wheat-colored hair tumble over her shoulders and flow in waves across her glowing, porcelain skin. He gazed into her bright emerald-green eyes, framed by long lashes, that seemed to brighten the world and keep him in a stupefied state.

After what seemed like hours instead of seconds, she asked, Are you okay?

He blushed and mentally berated himself for not speaking up. Um . . . yeah, I'm okay; you just caught me off guard. I thought I’d stop in for my morning cup of Joe before I headed to work.

Carly smiled as she stepped aside, holding open the door for him. I have it ready and on the counter for you, as always. But I’m on my way out because I have to pick up Stanley. He’s late as usual, but this time he doesn’t have a car. I swear if it wasn't for the anti-firing law the state passed last year, I would have let go of his worthless behind months ago.

Thanks, Carly. I hope Stanley doesn't give you too much trouble this time.

Henry quickly ducked inside, grabbed his coffee, swiped his card, and exited the shop.

With a wave goodbye, Carly twisted the key, locking the door to the coffee shop, and then darted across the street to her old beat up car. Henry attempted to wave back but nearly spilled his coffee all over himself. He looked back to see if Carly had noticed; luckily, she hadn't. While Henry did his best to regain his composure, her car sputtered off down the street.

He waved for an automated transit cab to come pick him up and take him to work. Standing there, he took a sip of his coffee and sighed as the warm liquid slid down his throat. Carly had made it exactly to his liking, plain black coffee with two sugars and just a drop of honey.

The transit cab pulled up, and he climbed inside. He hated these things, but unfortunately, they were the quickest and easiest way to get around town. Plus, by being a Union Forest employee, he didn't have to pay for the ride if he was heading to or from work.

Unlike him, many of the locals liked the transit cabs because the creatures stayed away from them and because people in the area didn't own cars since they attracted attention and were too damn expensive.

Henry gazed out the window as the transit cab pulled up to the Union Forest building just outside the Fort Hamilton compound. He climbed out and stretched the kinks out of his legs. Once satisfied, he clipped on his badge and climbed the steps towards the Union Forest building.

Chapter Two

The crisp fall morning welcomed the sun as it climbed over the eastern horizon. The whirling composite blades of the MH-47 Chinook helicopter whooped and hummed while it hovered over the charred and twisted remains of the trees. The pilot gave the order for the men to prepare to descend near the small town of Limavady, Ireland. Rick stepped down on the skids and hesitated, unprepared for what he saw. He had traveled to Ireland when he was a kid with his parents and his older brother, Henry, but back then, the trees were full of bronze-burnished leaves this time of year.

What he saw now was nothing like those childhood memories. Before him were dried husks of what had once been tall and lush trees. Until now, he hadn't believed that the Beast had forever changed the beautiful Irish landscape.

The pilot bellowed an order for the men to drop, so Rick kicked off the skid and slowly descended the rope. The wind from the blades whipped dirt and debris, making it difficult to see. He stumbled as a wave of nausea hit him when he landed; two other members of his team helped him get up to feet. A memory of Henry and his first mission came to mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. The final member of their team dropped down from the helicopter above and waved it away.

Morgan, are you alright? Sergeant McAvoy yelled.

Rick realized someone called his name. So he spun around, a little too quickly, and tripped over a rock. He picked himself up off the ground and wiped the dust from his clothes, doing a poor job of it. The two men from behind laughed at the sight and began circling the perimeter.

Sorry, sir; I got a bit dizzy there for a moment.

Well, make sure it doesn't happen again. This place isn't Disneyland. One wrong turn and we could all end up as dinner.

The Chinook helicopter veered off and headed towards the safety of the ocean, leaving the seal team behind. The team consisted of four men—Sergeant McAvoy, Specialist Jacobson, Wells, and Rick—who had survived many perilous missions and went by the code name Devil Dogs.

The government, or what was now left of the old government, would use the Devil Dogs when they needed something done under the radar.

Someone with strong military pull had assigned the team to the international drilling company known as Union Forest and they had issued this assignment. Apparently, they didn't want any knowledge of this mission on the books or in the press.

Rick and his team had spent several days planning how they would make landfall. They finally decided to fly under the cover of a nasty rainstorm that appeared to be heading towards the northern coast of Ireland.

The drop off point was ideal because it had easy access to the open ocean. Once they made landfall, they traveled the remaining eighteen miles to the village of Ardmore by foot. The trek was extremely dangerous because most of the terrain provided no cover from deadly predators.

The branches of a nearby tree groaned in protest to the winds that buffeted them as the helicopter left. Rick watched as one of the branches snapped and fell to the ground, nearly hitting Jacobson. The ground around them was dry and cracked with small brown plants desperately trying to grow amongst the charred remains of the dead trees.

Hey, Greenie, catch up! yelled Wells.

Rick scowled. I'm coming.

He disliked the nickname, but he couldn't deny the fact that he was the youngest recruit of the special ops team. Before coming here, he had survived two tours in Afghanistan, thanks to Lady Luck and Henry, who always seemed to be around watching over him.

Henry had become overly protective after their grandfather died eleven years ago, still blaming himself for the tragedy that had happened that day, and then to make matters worse, their parent's died in a plane crash a couple months before Henry enlisted.

No matter how hard Rick tried, he always seemed to be in Henry's shadow. On paper, Henry was nothing more than a field medic. However, few people knew that he was a highly trained sniper who could hit a target well over twenty-five hundred yards. He traveled under the guise of a field medic so that he could get in and out without being a target.

Just before Henry left the service, Rick signed up for another tour, mainly to prove to himself that he could do it without his big brother and to show Henry that he didn't need him around.

So Rick began volunteering for missions that put him in harmful and dangerous situations. Many of these ended up being covert missions, eventually getting the attention of Sergeant McAvoy, who had personally asked him to be assigned to the Devil Dogs. Even with his current assignment, he still was in Henry's shadow.

The muscles in the back of Rick's neck knotted up in irritation at the memories. He rubbed at his neck and readjusted his pack to relieve the tension. All four men walked in silence, relying on hand signals and gestures from one another to communicate since the first hour on land was the most dangerous and crucial.

Rick looked around and noticed the strange appearance of many of the plants. They were duller than one would expect and were twisted and deformed in unnatural ways. The land appeared as though it had been drained of its energy. It reminded Rick of the old movies he used to watch with Henry, where an old sorcerer would place his hand upon the chest of his victim and use a spell to drain the person's life away.

Rick hustled to catch up to Jacobson. Hey, since you're kind of the biological expert on the team, could you tell me why all the plants around here are a sickly brown color?

Jacobson turned and pulled a tablet from the side of his pack. He turned it on and then handed it over to Rick.

During the briefing, one of the scientists pulled me aside and gave me this. It contains satellite images taken by scientists back home who monitored this area for the last five years. It shows how the once lush green land became nothing more than a barren wasteland filled with twisted and dying plants. The weird thing is they don’t know what’s causing it. There is no scientific or biological reason for what is causing this blight affecting the land.

Rick let out a slow whistle, which he immediately regretted.

Wells tapped him on the shoulder. Are you trying to announce our arrival, Greenie? He chuckled and then moved ahead of the two men.

The Devil Dogs were the first people in five years to make landfall in Ireland since the Union Forest disaster. Rick and the others didn't question why they were there, but they wondered why now. As they continued walking, Rick noticed that a few of the trees near the water seemed a little more green and healthier than the others.

He turned to Jacobson. Did you notice those trees over there by the water? They don't seem to be as affected as the other plants around here.

Jacobson peered over his shoulder to where Rick pointed. That's interesting. I’ll have to include it in my nightly report. Hey, we probably should cut the chatter; I don't like the look the sergeant is giving us.

Rick nodded as he backed away, allowing Jacobson to catch up with Wells. He tried to remember the multitude of reports he had reviewed for the mission. Many of the images he’d seen resembled the war torn cities back in Afghanistan but with a more hospitable climate.

There had been rumors that Union Forest had sent another team to Limavady three years ago to assess the damage and to see if the Beast was still living on the island, but there were no confirmed reports of any