By S. M. Lundy

There was no point in thawing bagels when the twenty-foot-long alligator you were babysitting preferred them frozen.

“Make sure Wallace eats one before the moon is out,” Frank had said before leaving for work. “Whenever it’s a full moon, he gets very hungry.”

At the corner of the window above the kitchen sink, a bright yellow moon hung among the stars. I was supposed to feed Wallace hours ago, but he had been so docile, I didn’t think it mattered what time of day it was. The more I watched him, and the more I got paid for my services, the less urgent my bagel delivery became.

As long as my bills were paid, I’d be fine.

As I peeked into Frank’s living room, Wallace lay curled in front of the television watching his favorite cartoon. Despite the gator’s gentleness, most people would’ve been unnerved by his unusual build.

He was larger than the average gator with scales the size of my hand, and nails that could probably cut a melon in half. But Frank wasn’t one to care about appearances. After rescuing Wallace from a polluted canal three years ago, Frank had decided to keep him as a pet.

No surprise. Frank was your stereotypical Florida Man who frolicked with snakes and went to the grocery store shirtless with an exotic bird on his shoulder. He never seemed afraid of strange things in nature. Everyone avoided him, but every time he asked me to watch Wallace during a full moon, I obliged. I didn’t care what he did as long as he paid me.

I was short again this month, and watching Wallace always helped me bring home the bacon.

Speaking of bacon, I thought, Frank should be back any minute now. May as well get feeding time over with to say the job has been done. I opened the freezer and rummaged over various frozen goods for Wallace’s dinner.

Until I heard a crash.

I snatched a bagel and ran from the kitchen, slowing when I crunched over crumpled drywall and splintered wood chips scattered over the living room floor. A gaping hole on the side of the house stared at me with the face of Frank’s backyard, the Everglades stretching to the black horizon in the distance.

Dread stiffened me, sending a cold rush under my skin. Who could have done this? Other than me across the swamp, the next neighbor was miles away. I scanned the area. Wallace was gone.

Someone must have followed Frank home, blasted their way in, and stolen Wallace. Most likely poachers wanting to sell him. He was an odd-looking thing, even for an alligator. I had told Frank several times not to use that emotional support harness he’d found floating in a lake months ago. Strolling around town with a full-grown alligator sporting one of those would raise attention, and I wasn’t going to let his stupidity not pay my bills on time.

The thing was, poachers had weapons, and I needed to protect myself and Wallace. I grabbed Frank’s shotgun from its hiding spot by the front door and took careful steps out of the hole and into the night.

The humidity clung to my skin as I sloshed through the soggy grass, but the warm air did nothing to settle the chill flowing through me.

My fingers gripped the bagel against the shotgun as I turned to a familiar sound.

The low growl from an alligator rumbled through the air, but only the night was before me.

Not even the mosquitoes were out. Strange. Usually, those little blood-suckers only stayed away when there was fire or smoke nearby, but the Everglades weren’t burning tonight.

“Wallace?” My gaze darted around the darkness. “It’s time to eat.”

Another growl. This time it was above me. I glanced up and pointed the shotgun toward the ground. Two bright eyes shining neon yellow, black slits down the middle of each, stared down at me.

A muddy splash kicked up around my feet.

I startled and glanced down.

I had dropped the shotgun at the sight of the towering creature, but snapped my gaze back up. The moon highlighted its features. Large body coated with red scales, folded bat-like wings, spikes running from behind its head to the tip of its tail, claws as sharp as cut glass, horns that spiraled toward the heavens, and two streams of steam billowing from its nostrils.

A dragon.

I collapsed into the marsh and pushed away from the dragon, but it took one large step closer. My eyes shut tight as it leaned its long neck down to sniff my hair.

“Stay back!”

The feel of its scaly snout in my hair made my body grow taut. I was prepared for its claws to shred me into mulch, but something warm and wet covered my whole hand.

The bagel I held was now on the tip of the dragon’s forked tongue. It brought the tiny treat to its jaws where rows of teeth glistened in the moonlight. Its tail smacked against the mud in delight as it chewed. The sound of it swallowing made me think I was next, but the dragon brought its snout skyward instead, the moon gleaming in its gaze.

“Wallace!”

I swiveled to a voice in the darkness. Standing several feet away, Frank stared at the dragon, clutching a bag of frozen bagels.

“Don’t!” He glanced at the moon before jabbing a finger in the dragon’s direction. “The moon is not a bagel!”

The beast unfurled its wings and leapt into the sky. A gust of mud and ash swirled around me, sticking to my sweaty skin as I eyed the dragon’s silhouette shrinking before the round moon.

“Wallace!” Frank sloshed through the mud toward the Everglades with the bag of frozen bagels bumping against his side. He disappeared into the darkness, his voice fading as he cried into the sky for Wallace.

I guess I wasn’t paying my bills this month.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

S. M. Lundy had loved reading and writing fantasy and romance before the term “romantasy” ever became a thing. Growing up in a christian household in the city has inspired her to write urban fantasy with Biblical truths. She has a Bachelor’s Degree in English and thrives in the heat of Florida where she can be found buying used books, playing video games, or lounging with her cats.

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