Dragon Farmer

A Story by mattavelli

A fantasy story with dragons

It was past time for me to hit the bed and I was exhausted, but my blood pressure was up and I didn’t want to relax. I was out staring up at mars and the moon, standing in cold grass, thinking about the past and regrets. I don’t think about the future anymore. I must be in one of my down swings.

I’m a moody b*****d, but eventually I let it all go and remembered how much I like the feel of cold grass on my feet.

Standing there with my eyes closed, relaxing in the breeze, I didn’t see the dragon flying overhead. It was circling in; ready to eat me, I suppose, but it didn’t get the chance. My gear went into silent action, fully automated, with three floodlights and three suppressed .50 cal rifles spaced in a triangular fashion one hundred yards apart; pretty startling. I’ll check the video in the morning and see how high I jumped.

That’s how I make the big bucks, dragon meat. It makes great feed for pets and such, and I’ve got ten fat goats and twenty-five acres of unobstructed field running up to the edge of the great forest. I’ll probably get two or three more kills coming after that carcass by morning, so I’ll wait till then to call for pickup. A few hours won’t make that meat smell any fishier.

I moved out here a little over two years ago, after my father died. I’d wanted change and some alone time. So here I am, 50 miles from my neighbor and ten more to town. I’d been working as an engineer’s assistant and slowly acquiring an advanced degree in hydrology; which I gave up on when I left. Dad died during a surgery to repair some artery near his heart. He got his wish and died asleep.

I was ready to sleep too; so, I kicked open the hatch and headed down to bed.

Empty sub-ground homes are typically quiet spaces that allow a good deal of separation from the world, but my telescreen was blasting away with one of our local script-readers reassuring us about the value of our investments.

I’d sunk most of my credit into this place and venture, so let the surplus barons do as they like. My figuring had been that by the time the dragon population dries up I’ll be able to sell this place to somebody who wants two thousand square feet of basement space and a great view. That’s a nice thought before bed, so I powered down.

Next day, I did my wakeup routine, made goats happy, called Alice about sending somebody to come get two carcasses, got her message service, and left one.

I flipped the screen to see the line-ups for the day’s women’s soccer and volleyball matches, but got white screens on all channels. That’s a sign of the end of the world, but I’d been putting off talking to my sister for too long anyway, so I went ahead and set to that.

I flipped the screen back to correspondence and punched in her number. Nothing happened; just a white screen. So I fiddled with switches and did some smacking and pounding, but couldn’t get the damned thing to work for me. I couldn’t even call for a check on my line, so I put my feet up and relaxed myself.

I find that if I can get my breathing back to normal, I can see that I am just an over-excited monkey, and calm myself down.

Well, nothing to do today.

I stood up thinking of what I could grab to eat when the power went out. I sat back down to wait the 30 seconds for my back-up to kick in, but it didn’t; so angry monkey kicked something and made his way outside to see if it was still there.

The sun was at about noon, behind some clouds that could be rain. I figured to let time and things I don’t know solve my electrical curse, and set out to check my little garden.

It’s mostly tomatoes and cucumbers, but I’ve got some medicinal rhubarb too. All pretty new, since a dead falling dragon smashed my last garden a few months ago.

I ate a tomato and set to pulling weeds for about fifteen minutes; then a light rain started, with potential to be a soaker, so I headed back indoors.

The power was still out, so I sat under the hatch with a bucket propping it up and stared out at the rain. This is one of my chief entertainments, but it got old after ten minutes, so I grabbed a hand light and went down to check my generator.

I’d just locked myself in when I heard one of the goats scream out.

I threw open the hatch and popped my head out in time to see a dragon flying off with my goat.

A cloudy day lets the dragons play.

My guns must be down. So I ran down and attacked my generator, got it figured and kicked it on manually, but when I fed power to my main line, something in the circuit kicked back and it burned out or something. It smelled smoky anyway.

After a big waste of time, i gave up on it. It was no good. Sorry goats.

I was starting to feel helpless and alone, so I decided to head into town and see about getting things fixed.

I keep my go-buggy in what amounts to an underground garage. It’s where I keep all my equipment and spare parts and such.

I manually cranked up the door, got in the buggy and wheeled out.

When I got to the top of the ramp a dragon hit and ripped my roof off. I've never heard of such a thing.

It must have thought it could carry me off, but I doubt even one of them could haul half a ton of man and machine into the air.

I took a quick look around and saw no goats. I did see three dragons, grounded and feeding on the two my guns had gotten in the night. They saw me too, and it seemed they felt entitled. Talk about a social breakdown.

My eyes flicked up and I freaked out. One in the air was turning in to dive at me, so I smacked my buggy into reverse and gave full acceleration straight back down the ramp. I kicked the break as soon as I had the ceiling for cover, but slammed the back wall hard enough to bounce me dizzy.

I jumped out and got clear of the interior door in time to hear, but not feel the flames fill my garage.

That was two months ago. I've been living like an orphaned meerkat, or maybe a cockroach with the mess I've got here; stumbling around in the dark.

I don’t know why nobody has come to check on me or respond to the smoke. Yesterday I hauled out every piece of wood and flammable chemical I had and sent up a plume they should have seen from town; hoping I guess, but it seemed like it should have gotten some attention. I don’t know.

I haven’t seen a dragon in three days. I guess they ran out of food. Well, I’ve run out of it too and I’m tired of this. I’m thinking I’ll try walking in to town tomorrow and see if it’s still there.

© 2015 mattavelli

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Featured Review

Carlos Lorenzo Estrada

A dystopian world with dragons. Not a bad little tale, though I do wish I could know more about the main character in detail. What information you provided had me wanting to know more. Growing up in the 70s and 80s I used to read a lot of fantasy stories and comic books. There was this illustration magazine called heavy metal filled with sci fi and fantasy tales. This could have easily fit in the pages of that book with the French artist Mobius drawing your story. Nice imaginative tale.

Posted 3 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

3 Years Ago

Thanks for reading, Carlos! :)
I think this is a fun story, because of the unanswered questio.. read more

Reviews

9 Years Ago

yes extend it!! its really good !

Yanina McKnight

I like the tie between realistic fiction and fantasy. Your writing is very straightforward, which makes this short story wonderful. Short stories aren't meant to have overbearing detail, which yours did not have. Your story consists of a single character and his problematic situation in life. This an amazing piece.
Maybe you could write another short story about when he walks into town...but that's only my thought.
-Yanina