Fear ignited every nerve in their strained bodies as they waited. Defensive clothing wouldn’t offer a jot of protection once the firestorm invaded their sector.
“We’re not going to make it…” Aaron’s father’s voice cracked through the muffled layers. “Not this time…we’re not gonna make it, son.”
Aaron squeezed his dad’s hand, and despite their huge, padded gloves, tears spilled behind the older man’s visor.
Ahead, the billowing, angry gasses stretched for hundreds of kilometres, destroying everything in its path.
Aaron shifted his weight, hopping from one nervous foot to the other, watching the sulphurous clouds dance in violent malevolence on the horizon. He glanced up at his dad’s resigned, slouched shoulders and pulled himself up straight. “Don’t lose hope, he’ll be here.”
A voluminous pillar of cloud whirled up before them and his father groaned, but Aaron grinned as vast wings swept up from beneath the cliff, and salvation rose in glorious dragon form.