Creosote Promises

Chapter 1

Dust Storm

“There weren't always dragons in the Valley.” The sun tried its best to beat against the skin of the elderly man. Like leather it was dark and wrinkled but also, aged and tough. He took a long draw from his pipe as rocked in a chair as old as him. Cutting grooves in the porch of the bygone gas station that was only ever visited by tumbleweeds and dirt. Three relics from an ancient past from when Dragons didn’t live in the Valley. The smell of rich tobacco filled the air as he exhaled. Smoke coming out of his nostrils and the sides of his mouth. “You look like a Dragon.” A young half-ling quipped, smirking in the shade of the tattered porch roof. He sat crossed legged fiddling with a soda bottle he couldn’t open. “You think you’re funny stupid?” The Native gave him a sideways glance. “Aw come on old man I’m just playing,” the half-lings cat like ears rotated down dejectedly, “but I mean you do, you know. At least the kind I’ve read about in your books. I wasn’t meaning like the cartel in Edinburgh.” At this the Old Man grabbed the soda and popped the lid off using his pipe, “there.” Hey thanks.” He snatched back and took a quick swig, attempting to curve the heat. “Wait you got tobacco in it.” The half-lings nose and mouth wrinkled in disgust his whiskers flicking around at the taste mixed with his drink, but the Old Man missed it. He was watching the old road that ran in front of the station. Dirt was being kicked up on the horizon about two miles down the stretch of highway, “Nicholas, look.” Pointing his pipe in the direction of the disturbance that had caught his attention. A soft, low rumble could be heard across the normally quiet desert. Nicholas was scraping his tongue when he caught what the Old Man was looking at, “No way.” He popped to his feet, quickly clamoring his way up a beam on the porch and climbing onto the roof, “careful fool you're getting dust and crap all over me.” The Old Man snapped, trying his best to brush his blue jean bomber jacket off. “You are at least 90 percent dust and crap.” Nicholas said under his breath shielding his eyes from the harsh rays hoping to get a better view. The sound of a bottle could be heard hitting the roof underneath where he perched, “I’m old stupid, not deaf.” Nicholas looked down at him through a hole in the roof, hissing back, “way to go, you owe me a drink now!” The Old Man let out a dry laugh, “You see anything yet? Cause if you don’t come on down here so I can whoop you within an inch of your life.” Nicholas watched as little black figures started to appear among the dirt on the horizon, the sound of the low rumbling getting sharper and louder, “You couldn’t hit the floor if you fell out of the bed Viejo.” Nicholas said sneering. At this the Old Man started kicking the wooden beam that Nicholas had clawed his way up. Debris cascaded down blanketing him, “Aw crap! Look what you made me do! Now I’m dirtier than before!” The old man spat and cursed. “Hey calm down!” Nicholas pushed his furry face through the hole a little stretching his eyes and nose back a bit. “I think I see..people Old Man.” At this he stopped his swearing and threats. “Are you positive?” Nicholas hopped down landing deftly on the dirt, a tinge of concern in his eyes, “positive.”