Read Talker 25 for Free Online

housing district. The dragon shelters might provide protection for anybody who made it underground in time, but what about Sam? What if Dad got my text and was out looking for him?
    I force my gaze back to the battle. The dragon continues to toss aside every missile that comes its way.
    But it can’t catch the bullets.
    Rather than fleeing, the dragon puffs its chest, widens its stance, and seems to welcome them. Each volley knocks it a little lower, staggers it a little more, but it refuses to move from its fallen companion’s side.
    As the remaining jets regroup, the Silver’s ice cuts out, and it dims to a dull gray. It unfurls its tattered wings to their full extent, roars once at the heavens, then slumps to the ground beside the dead dragon.
    Maybe they’re brother and sister.
    Keith touches my shoulder. “Inside, Melissa. You don’t want to see this.”
    He guides me into the school. The siren is no longer blaring, and when he closes the door, the sounds of jets and gunfire fade to the background. If not for Sam’s phone clutched in my hand, I might be able to convince myself I’m standing in the lobby of a movie theater, not in the middle of a war zone.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
    HarperCollins Publishers
    ..................................................................
6
    “Dad’s not answering his phone,” I say as Keith pushes me down the hallway. Outside, another muted explosion. The walls rattle.
    “He probably took shelter.”
    We reach the stairwell that leads thirty feet underground, into a large metal box with enough supplies to keep two hundred students alive for a week. My phone won’t get reception down there. The school shelter’s got a landline, but it’s a secure army channel, for priority use only. Who knows how long it will be before they let us out? It could be hours. Stuck with nothing to do but remember how the last time you were safe in a shelter, your mother wasn’t.
    Now Sam and Dad are both MIA.
    “Can we wait up here?” I ask.
    “It’s not safe, Mel.”
    “But the dragon’s almost dead, right?”
    Keith grabs his mini tablet, enters a couple of passwords, and navigates to the video section of the army database. He loads a live feed that shows the dragon from afar. A soldier in body armor kneels behind a row of corn and lifts a rocket launcher onto his shoulder. Another All-Black loads the tube with a spike-tipped missile.
    With this explosion, the dragon crumbles to its knees.
    “It’s flickering. It won’t be long,” I say, ear pressed to my phone. Voice mail again. I don’t bother leaving a message this time. I look to Keith. “Please.”
    He taps a flashing icon at the bottom of the screen. Another clip pops up, this one transmitted from the cockpit of a dragon jet. The time stamp’s five minutes old.
    Six dragons glide through the stratosphere, wing to wing. Four reds flank two Silvers that are identical in every way save for their brilliant luminosity.
    In the next instant, bullet tracers crisscross the sky. The reds split away. Several jets chase them off screen, but the one with the video feed stays on the Silvers.
    Two missiles race into view. The brighter Silver somersaults around and opens its mouth, but nothing happens.
    A blur of red sweeps up from the corner of the screen and throws itself in front of the inbound missiles. When fireand smoke clear, a dragon hovers in the air, its glow gone. It spreads its jaws, releases a tiny puff of fire, and falls head over tail into the clouds.
    The other silver dives after the dead Red, but the brighter one has vanished.
    Keith shuts off the tablet.
    I swallow. “Where did it go?”
    “I don’t know, but it could return.” Keith grabs my arm. “Let’s go.”
    We’re almost to the blast door when my phone vibrates.
    “Dad?” I backstep quickly before the signal dies.
    “Melissa? Why aren’t you in the shelter?” “Sam and I got in a fight. He . . . he ran away. I don’t know where. It’s