The Gate

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

But strange things tend to happen when a faulty nuclear weapon accidentally blows a hole the size of a house into the fabric of time and space, letting in all sorts of otherworldly creatures.

I remember the day the Gate was torn open like it was yesterday. My mom had sent me to school with my brown hair done up to resemble a frosted pink donut for 'Crazy Hair Day'. It even had fake icing made from felt and sprinkles made out of beads, completed with a small paper plate fastened to the bottom. I had on my favorite pink dress with a unicorn on the front and my name, Denna, emblazoned in gold glitter. My grammy had ordered it online for me for my sixth birthday that year, and I wore it almost every day.

My older sister, Galen, tomboy to the core, had teased me relentlessly, saying it looked like I had a sparkly dog turd on my head. But even her taunts couldn't ruin my mood because I just knew I'd win the pizza party for my class with mom's and my creation.

When the bomb imploded in Nellis, Nevada, the airbase and the surrounding area was decimated instantly. No one outside of the Nellis area should have felt much of anything-- it was in a pretty remote area nestled in the desert valley.

Yet, at the time of the explosion, I was all the way in Seattle in my grade one classroom, meticulously coloring in the rainbow striped mane of a unicorn while imagining being awarded first place for my hairdo-- when suddenly the air felt... tight. There's no better way to describe it. I could literally hear the air itself squealing and popping as it was compressed so intensely that it thrummed deep within my bones and caused pressure to build in my head and ears.

Simultaneously, the air took on an opaque quality as it shimmered and swirled and blurred out everything around me. I remember thinking that I, along with everyone else, was about to be popped like a juicy watermelon and that there was nothing I could do about it.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

My first grade teacher, Ms. Kushnell, began to panic and had us get under our desks, reassuring us that it was only a drill. But even at six, we all knew better. Every child in that room knew something big had just happened. Just how big though, we never could have imagined.

That day, in all parts of the world, almost everyone remembered experiencing something similar at the exact moment in time the Gate was ripped open.

Experts argued about the explosion and the strange sensation we all felt for days; it was all over Twitter and the news. They insisted that there was no way a nuclear weapon could just go off on its own. It needed to be armed, they said. Accidents didn't happen when it came to nukes. Some feared that it was a terrorist attack, though no one was claiming it. Others wondered if the nuke going off had been causing by the spontaneous tear itself, and it just happened to be right where an unarmed nuclear bomb was being stored.

Regardless of what should or shouldn't have been able to happen, accident or terrorist attack, it had happened.

There was now a gigantic, shimmering hole outlined by a bright, flaming blue ring in the middle of a desert valley in the good old U-S-of-A.

Caution was taken of course; no one wanted to enter what they had coined 'The Gate' to see what exactly was on the other side without weighing all the risks and figuring out exactly what it was and where it led to. Nothing had come through from the other side yet, though faint movement and shadows could be seen occasionally beyond the shimmering curtain, and many conspiracy theories ran rampant. Some thought it was a wormhole of some kind, others thought it was the gateway to Hell itself.

Scientists from all over the world suited up in radiation suits and performed tests and readings with all sorts of instruments before they finally agreed to send in a robot like the ones they use to diffuse bombs.

It was a big televised event the day they sent the robot in. No one could keep the thousands of drones trying to film what was happening away from the Gate, so everyone in the world was glued to their TVs, tablets, and smart phones.

It all started out pretty uneventful at first. The robot wheeled right through the opaque, shimmering hole without hesitation or resistance; it looked just like it had disappeared through a wall made of water.

I remember my six year old self being terrified for the poor little robot because it reminded me of WALL-E; one of my favorite movies. Galen called me a scaredy-cat and my mom had hushed her absentmindedly, trying to watch what was happening on her iPhone while we crowded in on either side of her.

Unfortunately for my young psyche, the robot didn't return. At least, not exactly. About 5 minutes after the robot passed through the Gate, something else began to push its way back through. Everyone held their breath as a clenched, taloned, reptilian foot the size of a car emerged through the shimmering hole, holding on to a very squashed and smoking robot. Galen and I gasped out loud and huddled closer to our mom on our well-loved couch as we watched it all unfold.

After the first foot made it through came part of a blue, shimmery scaled leg, followed by another clawed foot. Then a smoking, silvery blue scaled snout that lead to long yellow teeth. And then came beady, intelligent eyes emerging with the rest of a head topped with bone-white, deadly sharp horns.

The dragon slowly but surely pulled itself all the way through, the portal stretching wider to accommodate the scaled giant. After it had completely emerged, it shook itself like a dog after a bath, then stared menacingly at the horrified humans below, tossing what remained of the crumpled robot gripped in its paw against a large nearby boulder. With a great tremble of the earth, it sprang upwards and took off into the sky; unfurling it's giant wings that shone with an iridescence like nothing I'd ever seen.

It screeched loudly into the night as it scattered the drones in its' path, exhaling blue and white flames in front of it.

I remember watching this all happen on Mom's tiny iPhone screen and thinking it must be all make believe, like something out of a movie. But it was very, very real and that first dragon proved to be only the beginning.

13 years later, as I stand on the peak of a mountain in the middle of the night, looking down to where Nellis once stood-- now known simply as the Valley-- I can see three dragons flying near the glowing blue portal, chasing each other as they hunt for prey, their occasional bursts of blue and white flames illuminating the starry night sky.

It's the first time I've seen the Gate this close with my own eyes, and it takes my breath away for a second. There is beauty in this otherworldly chaos, in this door to another world that should have been impossible, yet here it is, having changed our planet forever.

I carefully step my way down the side of the mountain, adjusting the straps of my pack as I go. I'm no stranger to hiking and climbing; it's become a necessary survival skill these past years. But at one point I stumble slightly despite my sure-footedness, slipping on some loose rocks beneath my hiking boots. I feel an annoyed disturbance at the nape of my neck and there's a stream of angry chirping and buzzing in my ear as Flit darts out from underneath my ponytail.

"I'm sorry," I grumble, wobbling as I right myself. "Did I disturb your beauty sleep?"

The small creature angrily berates me with a series of chirps and squeaks and I try not to laugh. Even angry, Flit is ridiculously adorable.

He has a brown, fuzzy little mushroom shaped head atop a fuzzy brown body covered with cream colored spots like a baby fawn. Well, he does at the moment at least; he's very chameleon like in that he can change his coloring to match his surroundings, though the brown and white seems to be his default.

He's about the size of a hummingbird, but his wings are more like a dragonfly's, and he has two pairs of arms and two pairs of legs with small four fingered hands and feet that are sticky like gecko.

His eyes take up most of his face and are multifaceted like little black gems, and his wide mouth is filled with tiny, sharp teeth that I have unfortunately been on the receiving end of on more than one occasion.

He also has a pointed little black tongue which he is now using to blow raspberries at me, and two very expressive antennae on top of his head.

"I'm sorry I scared you Flit, I'll be more careful, I promise. You want to fly for a while or hitch a ride?" I hold up my ponytail in invitation. Flit blinks sleepily at me, crossing two of his four arms, then darts back underneath my hair, gently nipping me in reproach.

I laugh softly as I resume my trek down the mountain. Flit was an unexpected gift that the Gate has given me, one that I'm grateful for even if it has taken almost everything else that matters.

I had found Flit near death four years ago while I was foraging for food with Galen. He lay crumpled at the base of an apple tree we were picking from, and I almost stepped on him.

At first, I thought he was an old, forgotten stuffed animal. When I squatted down to get a closer look, I recoiled in fear when I realized he was definitely NOT a toy.

"Watch it, Den!" Galen shouted, pulling me back by my elbow. We had both encountered tiny Gate creatures before that proved to be incredibly dangerous despite their size.

I frowned at the furry little creature, covered in what looked like claw marks along with broken wings. It's chest rose and fell softly as it slept, but it was trembling in pain. "No, look Galen, he's really hurt!"

Despite my sister's protests I gently scooped him up and tucked him into a pocket in my backpack.

"You know mom's going to freak out," Galen warned. "For all we know that thing is some sort of demented killer Gate bee!"

I couldn't explain how I knew in my gut that this small creature wasn't dangerous, so I did what all younger teenage siblings know to do and just shrugged at her before waking away.

My mom did initially freak out, but when she saw how helpless he was, and how determined I was to help him, she gave in without much protest. She had been a veterinary technician prior to the Gate, so like me, she was a big sucker for all creatures, and she had retained enough of her knowledge to bandage his delicate wings and clean his wounds. She also mixed him up some honey water which he drank greedily.

As he started to recover over the next few days, we discovered that he was omnivorous. He took a couple chunks out of my mom's cat before we figured it out and started offering him raw bits of meat along with the greens and veggies we had been feeding him from the garden.

He couldn't speak, but we learned to communicate with him all the same, and he was able to understand everything we said very quickly. Galen took to calling him "the bug" which he seemed to get the gist of, and he would angrily nip at her if she called him that within earshot.

It was around that time I realized he needed a name. One night I was laying on top of the covers on my bed, Flit curled up next to my pillow, while candlelight flickered around the room causing shadows to dance on the various posters that remained pinned up from when the Gate had first opened. Even though I was fifteen at the time, I never had the heart to change anything that reminded of me of how the world once was.

"How about we call you... Tink?" I suggested pointing at a poster on my ceiling. Tinkerbell was another one of my favorite childhood characters.

He blew as raspberry at me and fluttered his wings in agitation and I laughed. That was a no. He still hadn't been able to fly yet, but his wings were healing nicely and I knew it could be any day now.

"Okay then, how about Buzz?" I pointed at a Toy Story poster. He furrowed his brow and glared at me. his wings thrumming even faster.

"Hmm ok, ooh, how about Stitch? You kind of remind me of him when you're pissed off like this," I laughed, pointing at the furry blue alien on another poster. I was a Disney fan, ok?

This time he blew a raspberry and jumped to his feet. And then, to my amazement, he started flying around my face like an annoyed hummingbird, darting from place to place.

"You can fly again!" I said gleefully, smiling wide. "Look at you flitting about! Oh! That's what we will call you! How about... Flit!" I sat up in bed and clapped my hands in excitement.

At that, his big black eyes lit up and he buzzed happily around the room til I felt dizzy watching. "Okay okay! Now knock it off before I puke!" I laughed. "You don't want to overdo it, Flit."

While he was finishing his recovery, we learned that Flit could be incredibly helpful. We'd often find him munching on venomous spiders and other creepy crawly pests, and he was great at scouting for prey when Galen and I went hunting.

He also always seemed to know when we needed things, like if my mom sat down to darn some socks or sew up the holes in our clothes, he'd appear right away with the needle and thread.

Even Galen started to take a liking to him. One day, she decided to go off to hunt on her own, and since I was busy making candles with my mom, Flit went with her.

As they approached a grove of trees, Flit went nuts. He turned pitch black and started hissing in her face, causing her to stop in alarm as he pointed frantically to a tree where she could see the glowing red eyes of a hellhound lurking above, ready to pounce.

One well-aimed arrow later, and we had meat for a couple months. And after that, my sister stopped referring to him as "the bug" completely.

When Flit's wounds were fully healed, my mom sat me down at the kitchen table.

"Honey," she said gently, her hand on my knee. "It's time to set Flit free. He's not a pet or a creature that we can keep." Her eyes met mine and I could see sadness as well as love and compassion in them. She knew this would tear me apart, but it was what was necessary.

I nodded solemnly. I had already thought about it, but I hadn't wanted to bring it up to Flit in case he really did want to leave.

So I stewed on it for a few more days. And then one morning, even though it was destroying me at the thought, I walked resolutely back to the apple tree where I had found him, while he buzzed happily along beside me none the wiser.

I sighed as I sunk down to sit at the base of the tree, and he landed on my knee, watching me curiously, antennae twitching.

"Okay little buddy," I told him, my voice catching. "Do you remember this place? It's where I found you. You're all better now. So you're free to go. Go and find your family or wherever you came from." I closed my eyes, trying to be strong, and waited. I couldn't watch him leave. But I didn't feel him move.

Cautiously opening one eye and then the other, I looked down to see him standing on my knee, looking up at me with tears forming in his shimmering, black eyes and his furry little chin and antennae quivering.

At the sight of his sorrow, tears started to flow freely down my own cheeks. "You--you don't want to leave?" I asked him, my voice thick with emotion. He shook his head violently, followed by a series of adamant chirps and squeaks, before he flew up to swipe away my tears with his four sticky hands, and then he dived under my hair at the nape of my neck.

I laughed in both joy and relief, and after a few moments I stood up to head back home. Clearly he had made up his own mind. I wasn't about to force him to go. Thankfully my mom never brought it up again either.

Flit and I finally reach the bottom of the mountain. I stop and crouch behind a large boulder, watching and waiting to see if anything else is lurking. I can see the Gate itself, and this close, I can hear it as well.

Flit senses my anxiousness, and pops out at full attention from his sleeping spot. He zips off into the night without a second glance, but I don't panic. I know he can be invisible when he wants to be and he's the best scout I could ask for.

The Gate is partially surrounded by a crumbling concrete wall; in the early days after it opened, the military tried to build a barricade around it to contain the dragons and other dangerous creatures that kept coming in from the other side, but it was a fruitless effort.

The first time a gargantuan came through-- a creature easily ten times the size of a dragon filled with molten lava that could be seen through the fissures in its impenetrable, cracked granite hide. Not only did lava seem to be its lifeblood, but it also spewed it from the depths of its' gullet in a deadly, destructive stream.

One swipe was all it took to take down most of the barricade and they never attempted to repair it. Probably because there were not many people in the area left alive to try again after the gargantuan attack.

I see no signs of gargantuans now, but thankfully, they are rare. The dragons don't worry me too much as they are generally pretty docile. Unless you come upon a nesting mother or try to hurt one, they leave you alone. Their preferred prey are cows, sheep, and other similar sized creatures that have come through from their own word.

No, it is the fugues that worry me the most. Slick, oozing, oily black creatures that seem to materialize in and out of a solid, goo-like substance and shadow, slinking along like the inky darkness of the night. They can creep up and devour you with very little warning, and nightfall is when they most prefer to come through the Gate.

Flit buzzes back to me, landing on my shoulder. I can tell he is as relaxed as is possible in this situation, and that means it's all clear. Deciding that if I wait any longer I will be making my fears a reality, I take a deep breath and sprint towards the Gate. But when I get to it, I stop suddenly. I'm trembling and panting hard, not sure if I should go slowly or just run right through it. I can feel Flit bunker down at the nape of my neck, vibrating in anticipation.

After one last deep breath, I take a step closer, feeling the thrumming it gives off that goes all the way to my bones and reminds me of how I had felt on the day it was torn open.

"Okay Denna, let's do this," I say to myself. "Let's rescue Galen and maybe find a way to close this damn thing for good while we're at it."

And with that, I stick my hands straight out in front of me like a zombie and push them through, my arms and the rest of my body following closely behind.

As I emerge on the other side of the Gate, stumbling slightly, I stand blinking for a few seconds, taking in my surroundings and trying to acclimate to this new, strange world.

And then, out of nowhere, I am hit by what feels like a freaking freight train, and everything goes black.