Scott felt a surge of elation as the animals began to stir and leave. Soon, the bees and birds were gone, the rabbits disappearing quickly, the deer lagging behind. As the last of the deer stumbled away, the black dragon lay in the middle of the yard, the dawn in full swing. Phase one, hoping the animals would leave, had worked. But, what about phase two? He needed to do *something*. Could he tie it up? He had clothesline, but it wouldn't hold much. Would tying it up wake it? The metal shed would be more secure, but moving it might be riskier. All the doors were locked, Tober was safely in the basement, and the windows were latched. The dragon only needed to break a window to get in. He needed to leave, again, and stay away this time. He had no idea what he'd tell Mel, but he'd have all day to figure that out.
Tober slept soundly as Scott carried him to the car. Scott only glanced back to confirm the dragon was still asleep. The act of closing the car door woke Tober. He quickly transitioned from groggy confusion to an alert awareness that they were abandoning "my dragon." He began screaming, "We need to go home! My dragon will be alone and scared!" Scott, too, wondered where they were going. His mother-in-law's house was too close; the dragon might find them. A hotel? Maybe, but not nearby. He drove onto the interstate. They'd be okay. He had his phone, keys, and wallet; they could buy anything they needed. His parents had a cabin in the mountains, six hours away, that should be enough.
"Ding!" Scott's phone alerted him: a quarter tank of gas. They were forty-five minutes west. The nearest gas station was another fifteen minutes away. The exit sign advertised a station four miles to the right, but the road was poorly paved and led up a mountain. It turned out to be a single-pump Sunoco station. Scott pulled in. Tober, having yelled himself out, had fallen back asleep. He didn't stir as Scott got out, leaving the car door open to avoid waking him. He swiped his card, selected economy gas, and felt the car rock slightly as he unscrewed the gas cap. Tober must have woken up and shifted. Scott could barely see his head above the car seat. He had to concentrate to keep his feet on the ground; the seatbelt had been a welcome respite from faking gravity. The car rocked again. How could a small child rock the car so much? At least he wasn't screaming. The tank was full, the receipt printed, and there, in the rearview mirror, was Tober, looking at Scott, smiling.
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"Sorry about yelling, Dad. I didn't realize you'd brought my dragon." Scott turned to see the black dragon sprawled across the back seat, its head resting on Tober's lap. Was it purring? Do dragons purr? This was bad. Really bad.
"Tober, stop scratching the dragon's head. It might not like it."
"He likes it. You can hear him purring. Just like Winston," Tober replied, referencing their neighbor's cat. He had a point; it *was* purring. But that didn't make the situation any better. How had a sleeping dragon tracked them down and caught up to a sleeping boy in a car at seventy mph?
Scott didn't know what to do. The dragon wasn't overtly malicious, but it could find them anywhere. Going home was the only option. What would Mel say? Her mom? His parents? The neighbors? But that was only one issue. A baby dragon egg implied an adult dragon. Would it come looking? If the baby dragon could find them so easily, the adult could probably find them anywhere. Might as well be home. The biggest immediate danger was Tober being flown away. He needed to keep Tober in a car seat, or a sofa.
Scott pulled into his driveway. He was about to unbuckle the car seat when he noticed a large padded envelope leaning against the bottom of the door, faintly smudged with soot.