Respite II

“Ew. There’s a rat under the ice,” Fern said, stepping around a frozen puddle.

“How’d it get there?” I was kind of curious.

“In this cold, no less,” Bernicia puffed. “It never got like this in the badlands.”

“Maybe the rat drowned already,” Hal supplied.

“Maybe the puddle flash-froze overnight while the rat was taking a bath,” I speculated. “I mean, never mind. I think we’re close.”

We kept tromping through the iced-over (but still somehow bustling) city. Soon I caught sight of a sign reading SIDEWINDER PUB.

“Okay! Here it is, guys,” I said.

“Let’s grill the barista for clues,” Blake grinned.

“It’s a bartender, not a barista,” Fern replied. “Oh. The door is locked.”

Angelina whipped out her rifle and fired it, blowing the door to bits.

“Gah! Who’s there?” I heard a gun click.

“Cover, guys! He’s armed,” I told the others, then ran inside.

“Don’t come any closer!” Bang, bang!

The shots bounced off of my scales, and a cup shattered.