Henry Rider: Clown Hunter

Chapter Twenty

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Chapter Twenty

I cut the Corner before Ethan could protest, and the dump materialized around me once again — along with the trash dragon. I immediately broke into a sprint while the dragon roared in outrage. The purple blob that Uncle Junk wanted was still visible, embedded up in the muck on its head. I needed to get up there, but how?

The dragon spewed another fountain of nastiness at me, and I jumped magically out of its way. Landing on top of a wall of trash, I made a mad dash in the dragon's direction while the ground behind me was reduced to a sludgy mess. I powered up my shoes again as I ran. From up here, I was level with the dragon's head. One more good jump, and I could snatch the purple treasure and get out of here. But it had to be this jump. There was enough laughter left in my inhaler to recharge me one last time, but that was it.

The dragon and I glared at each other. Letting my magic go, I flew toward its trash-encrusted face, and—

It opened its mouth, snatching me right out of the air.

"You suck!" I screamed as it snapped its jaws closed, plunging me into darkness.

Lying on its disgusting slimy tongue, trying not to think of all the germs I was bathing in, I stumbled to my hands and knees just as the dragon tipped its head back. A wave of greasy spit tried to wash me to the back of its mouth so it could swallow me. I desperately flung myself to the side, groping for anything to hold on to.

My fingers brushed something, and I grabbed hold. It was as thick as my arm, and as hard as stone. I had found one of its teeth. An irritated growl rose from the dragon's throat, accompanied by a wave of stench that nearly made me...

Throw up!

Suddenly, I had a terrible idea.

No time for thinking. I drew Splatsy and extended her to full warhammer form. Ignoring how this was the second-to-last thing in the entire world I wanted to do (first place went to being eaten by a trash dragon) I swung Splatsy as hard as I could with one hand, holding onto the tooth with the other. I couldn't see, but I heard the wet splat when she found the dangly thing at the back of the dragon's throat. The dragon froze in shock, and then curled its head down and opened its mouth.

"Yes!" I yelled when sweet, beautiful sunlight flooded in. An ominous rumble came from the bottom of the dragon's cave-like throat. I let go of the tooth, falling down the length of its mouth until I grabbed hold of another fang closer to the front. Climbing onto the dragon's outer lip, I desperately clawed my way up its face — and not a moment too soon. The dragon gave a deep, bone shaking retch, and a waterfall of trashy vomit erupted from its mouth to splatter disgustingly on the ground below. Trying not to gag, I holstered Splatsy and clambered up its snout as fast as I could. The dragon went cross eyed to look at me, and gave an angry snarl.

I didn't care. I could see the purple lump that Uncle Junk wanted. It was right between the dragon's eyes, half buried in mud — or at least what I hoped was mud. The dragon thrashed its head on the end of its long neck, and I wrapped my fists around a rusty length of rebar and held on tight. If it shook me free, I'd go flying across the dump, and I'd never get back up here. I'd be forced to admit defeat and retreat back to the store — assuming I even survived.

But then a miracle happened. The dragon, entirely focused on me, set its foot down in the puddle of its own puke and slipped. Somehow I managed to hold on as it fell, hitting the ground with a crash. I stood up on its nose and dashed across its face, grabbing the treasure with both hands. Heaving upwards, I pulled as hard as I could, and it came free with a wet pop.