by Aaron Hodges
Not that any of them knew what they’d do once they got there.
For Chris at least, one objective drove him on more than any other—to find his mother, and save her. He had not seen her since that night in San Francisco, so many countless weeks and months ago now. Accused of treason, she would face the death sentence. But that didn’t mean she was gone.
It couldn’t.
Chris forced his thoughts back to the climb. The rock was slick with ice and the weight of his injuries would have slowed anyone else. But after all they’d been through, after the depraved experiments, the torture and imprisonment, Chris was beyond pain now. He moved down the cliff without effort, his fingers gripping to the smallest of cracks, his toes finding the tiniest footholds. Holding his own weight no longer bothered him; the exertion of the climb was no more than a brief inconvenience. The doctors in the facility had succeeded beyond their wildest dreams.
If only it had been worth the cost.
Unbidden, William’s face appeared in Chris’s thoughts, his features distorted, his limbs flailing as he thrashed on the floor of the padded room. A woman stood over him, a grimace on her lips, the metallic jet-injector clenched in one hand.
The image faded, only for a fresh memory to take its place. He saw again Angela Fallow’s body, sprawled on the laboratory floor, blood oozing from the bullet wound in her chest. And Halt, standing over her, the gun still clutched in his fist. A well of hatred opened within Chris, fueled by the vile, despicable things the man had done to bend them to his will.
If not for Angela, they would still be his, trapped in their cages, helpless to defend themselves against his depravity. She had freed them, opened the cells, unlocked the collars, given them back their lives.
And she had died for it.
Chris’s stomach lurched suddenly as he missed his next foothold. Cursing, he scrambled for purchase, his weight falling onto his only handhold. The sharp rocks sliced into his fingers, and instinctively they loosened. With a shout, he fell backwards into empty space.
In that instant, time seemed to slow. His heart beat hard in his chest as he scanned the rock, spying out a fresh set of holds. Twisting in the air, his hands flashed out to catch them, and his feet settled back into a groove in the rock. He pulled himself close to the rock face and let out a long breath.
Nice moves. Chris could almost hear Sam’s voice, rich with his familiar humor. Swallowing, he fought back tears and continued his climb down.
When he was still a dozen feet above the ledge, he released the cliff and fell the rest of the way. He dropped to his knees as he landed, and then straightened.
The others gathered around him, their faces pale with cold and exhaustion, their eyes ringed by shadows. They looked at him expectantly. For close to a week they had travelled in near silence, their conversation dimmed by what they had lost, by their own private torments, and the buzz of far-off helicopters. He had expected it from Jasmine and Richard—the two had been nothing but antagonistic since the day he’d met them—but even Liz had been distant, as though the weight of everyone they’d left behind hung between them.
He looked at her now, finding her blue eyes behind the tangles of black hair. They showed the same faraway look of the past few days, and he forced himself to look away as a thousand doubts rose inside him.
Jasmine stood beside Liz with her arms crossed, her brown eyes hard and her straight black hair billowing in the wind. Her tanned skin matched Liz’s, but at five foot five she was the taller of the two. Jasmine stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Richard, a stark contrast to his short blond hair and pale skin. Both wore their trademark grimace, their brows creased by scowls.
Ignoring their animosity, Chris searched for the fifth member of their little party. His stomach twisted as he found the young girl sitting on the ledge. They were not even halfway down the cliff here, and her legs dangled out over a five-hundred-foot drop. Her grey hair swirled in the breeze and while he could not see her face, it was easy to picture her strange multicolored eyes.
A shudder went through him as he turned back to the others. The girl couldn’t be older than thirteen. How had she survived the facility? They were no closer to getting those answers. For the whole week, she had remained stubbornly mute. They didn’t even know her name.
“There’s no sign of anyone behind us,” Chris said finally, as the wind howled, trying to steal away his voice. Here in the mountains it never ceased, and not for the first time he wished for more than the thin rags Angela had provided them. “It looks like we’ve reached the top. If we keep heading west, I think we’ll eventually find our way back to the Western Allied States.”
“Good,” Jasmine said. “I’m sick of the cold.”
Chris caught a flicker of irritation in Liz’s eyes, but she only nodded. “Should we push on more today, or find a place to camp for the night?”
Beyond their precarious ledge, the sun still hung between the towering peaks. Chris grimaced, the ache in his back giving a sharp throb. Pain radiated out into his chest like the threads of a spiderweb. His muscles were stiff, and his stomach rumbled with hunger. Silently he wondered how much longer they could last before their altered bodies finally reached the limits of their endurance. But there were still several hours of daylight left. They could not afford to waste them.
“Let’s push on,” he said, moving past them.
He paused at the edge of the cliff and glanced across at the young girl. She sat in silence, her strange eyes watching him. Shaking his head, he turned away, trying not to show his discomfort. The new valley stretched away below, twisting past the sharp escarpment on which they were perched. The rocky spire made for the perfect viewpoint, though for an ordinary human it would have taken long hours to climb. And when they finally reached the top, they would still have to face the long, treacherous climb down.
The five of them had no such problem.
Staring into the distance, Chris’s keen eyes picked over the faint patches of tussock grass and broken boulders scattering the slopes. Low clouds drifted here and there, but for the most part the air was clear, his view unobstructed. The valley stretched away for miles, finally ending in a distant wall of rock.
Turning his mind inwards, Chris focused on the ache in his back. A twitch ran through him, radiating outwards, waking his body for action. Bones and muscles stretched as he readied himself.
Looking at the five-hundred-foot drop, Chris struggled to suppress the old fear that gripped his stomach. Heights held no sway over him now; it was just that his mind had yet to adjust to that fact. Clenching his fists, he drew in another breath.
Movement came from Chris’s left as Liz stepped up beside him. Her eyes caught his, and she flashed him a grin. No more than a brief twist of her lips, shy and uncertain, but it was more emotion than she’d shown him in days. He smiled, feeling warmth seeping back into his heart, pushing back the terrors of the last week.
Returning his attention to the edge, Chris closed his eyes, and stepped out into empty space.
His stomach lurched into his chest as he started to fall. Icy air roared past his ears, and opening his eyes, he saw the barren earth rushing up towards him. He glanced sideways as a wild scream came from beside him, and found Liz falling as well, a mad joy dancing in her crystal blue eyes.
Together, they plummeted towards the rocky ground.
Grinning, Chris returned his attention to the ache in his back. His whole body burned now, the rush of adrenaline lighting up every fiber of his being. He could feel the ache spreading, tingling outwards into the foreign flesh and bone that sprouted from his back. With an eager laugh, he willed them to life.
With a sharp crack, his wings snapped open. His stomach lurched again as twenty-four feet of feathers caught the air and sent him soaring into the sky. The earth fell away as the wind rustled his tawny brown wings.
A surge of joy filled Chris’s chest as he looked out over the valley floor. Boulders and cliffs flashed past, as from his right
came the thump of another set of wings. Liz fell into formation beside him, her jet-black feathers stretching out towards his own. A sense of contentment settled over him as they touched.
From behind came the familiar crack of unfurling wings as the others followed.
43
Darkness pressed in all around, encasing Liz, locking her away from the light. She struggled against it, flailing at unseen tendrils, but her hands found only empty air. When she opened her mouth to scream, darkness poured down her throat, suffocating her cries.
The scene changed. A dull black surface formed beneath her feet, though the darkness still pressed in all around. A long, beastly howl echoed from somewhere in the pitch-black. The sound sent tingles racing down her spine. She started to run—then sprint—through the darkness, as scrambling footsteps came from somewhere behind her.
The howl came again, conjuring up specters of the unseen beast. A cry tore from Liz’s lips as she slipped. Scrambling on the smooth surface, she raced on, her mind spinning out of control.
But however hard she ran, the footsteps behind still grew nearer, the howling louder.
Heart pounding, Liz gasped for air. She could feel the beast approaching, could sense its very presence. Fear flooded her, robbing her of strength. Her chest burned, her lungs screamed. Step by step, her pace slowed.
At last she could go no further. Panting, Liz drew to a stop, great sobs tearing from her throat. She turned to face the swirling darkness and waited for the beast to appear.
The black boiled, spreading like a cloud, reaching out to touch her. She flinched and scrambled back. With the movement, the fog parted, giving way to the approaching footsteps.
Liz moaned as a woman stepped into view. Her skin was a pale white, the scarlet locks of her hair stained black. Her lips twisted with rage, and her tawny yellow eyes glowed in the pitch-black. Great white wings beat hard on her back, sending the darkness swirling out towards Liz.
Liz stood frozen in place as Ashley’s fingers bent into claws and reached for Liz’s throat. In one movement, she lifted Liz into the air. A snarl hissed from Ashley’s lips as she raised a fist.
“You left me!”
With a muffled scream, Liz tore herself from the dream and sat bolt upright. For a moment the darkness clung to her, choking her, filling her with panic. Then her gaze found the jeweled stars stretching across the night sky, and the bright glow of the half-moon, and she let out a long breath.
Liz clutched her chest and willed her heart to slow. She shivered, recalling Ashley’s face in the dream and the pallid grey of her skin. Silently, she wondered whether it was an omen, whether her friend had truly passed from the light.
Was your sacrifice for nothing, Sam?
Wrapping her arms around her chest, Liz banished the thought. Her wings rustled and tightened around her, sealing in the warmth. She smiled then. The strangeness of their presence faded more each day. Flight was becoming easier, her muscles slowly learning to cope with the strain, though her chest and abdomen still ached at the end of each day.
Hunger was their most pressing concern now. They had hardly eaten since escaping the facility, and the pangs of her empty stomach were quickly sapping her strength. A frozen fish Richard had found had saved them, but Liz wasn’t sure whether she could last until they got lucky again.
Realizing all thought of sleep had left her, Liz pulled herself up and moved away from the others. Her stomach gave another growl, and she placed a hand over it, willing it to silence. Tomorrow she hoped they would reach the mountain forests. She knew how to forage there, where to find berries and grubs and edible roots. In the harsh alpine tussock she was out of her depth, but the forest she knew well.
Striding across the rubble-strewn slope, Liz was drawn towards the distant chatter of the stream. Even in the darkness she could easily make out rocks and boulders in her path. She had spent enough time walking dark country roads to know it was not natural, but she had long since given up questioning her newfound abilities.
She pictured the stream ahead, its white waters cascading between the boulders. Until today, the rivers they’d passed had been frozen solid. But it seemed they had finally descended low enough to escape the ice.
Her thoughts turned to Chris as she continued across the barren ground. They’d hardly spoken since the day Ashley had fallen. Almost unconsciously, Liz had found herself raising old walls around her heart, distancing herself from the boy. Now, a lonely gulf stretched between them, and sadness touched her. She mourned for Ashley and Sam, but she did not want to lose Chris too.
Finally, Liz drew to a stop beside the creek. Her feet ached from the cold, though they had slowly toughened over the last few days. Shivering, she looked down at the stream. Here the bank was only a few feet high, with piles of smooth gravel pushed up around its base. The opposite bank was maybe twenty feet away, though the waters themselves were just a couple of yards wide.
Lit by the moonlight, the stream swirled over its rocky bed, the current fast and uninviting. But further upstream, Liz caught a glimpse of calm water, a pool where the creek widened. When she’d left the others, she’d had a vague idea of splashing water on her face. Now Liz felt an urge to submerge herself, to allow the icy waters to wash away her nightmares.
Slipping off her shirt, she clenched her teeth against the mountain breeze, then quickly kicked off her pants. She walked to the edge of the pool and slid one toe into the water, then gasped as it immediately went numb. Already regretting the idea, she folded her wings tight against her back and pressed on. She moaned as the water reached her knees, then waist, then chest. Finally, when Liz could barely breathe for the cold, she ducked beneath the surface.
Two minutes later Liz returned to the bank, her teeth chattering, panting for breath, the oxygen sucked from her lungs by the icy waters. Goosebumps stood up along her arms and legs, and her waterlogged wings weighed heavily on her back. A shiver spread down their length, and her feathers stood on end to shake the water free. Liz rushed to her clothes, desperate for their scant warmth. Another tremor went through her wings, spraying water everywhere.
Smiling, Liz pulled her wings tight against her back again and slipped on her shirt. As it settled into place, she allowed her wings to relax again, and they extended through the holes cut into the back of her top. Then she scrambled into her underwear and pants, eager for their warmth. Though her skin was still damp, they at least offered some protection from the wind.
As she turned to face the water again, a rattle of stones came from overhead. She froze at the sound, and a voice called down from overhead.
“How’s the water?”
44
Liz turned slowly and found Richard perched on the bank above her. Warmth spread to her cheeks, before her brow knitted into a furious scowl. Unsure how much he’d seen, Liz crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, trying to hide her embarrassment.
“Enjoy the show?” she growled.
Richard jumped from the rock and landed lightly beside her. “Sorry, I didn’t look,” he murmured, taking a seat on a boulder beside the river and looking up at the sky. “I was just…walking.”
Grinding her teeth, Liz struggled to control her anger. A red glow flashed across her vision as she clenched her fists. She fought the urge to pick Richard up and hurl him into the water. But he only sat with his back to her, seemingly ignorant to her rage, and after a long moment Liz let out her breath. Even through her anger, she sensed a difference about Richard tonight, a change in him.
“What happened to him?” Richard finally asked, still staring at the half-moon. “To Joshua?”
The tide of Liz’s anger retreated, cold fingers of guilt rising to take its place. She bit her lip, the horror of her fight with the boy Joshua rushing back. She saw him again atop her, felt his fingers wrapping around her throat, the burning in her lungs. Glancing away from Richard, she reached down and picked up a stone, then tossed it across the pool. It skipped twice before landing on the other
bank.
“I killed him,” she replied finally. “Not the doctors, or the guards. I did it.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Richard nod. “I thought so.” From his tone, Liz thought that would be the end of the conversation, but he continued: “I saw the marks on your neck, when you walked past our cell. What happened?”
Blood pounding in her ears, Liz seated herself next to the boy. They sat in silence for a while, watching the glistening waters, as she turned the memories over in her mind. Then slowly, reluctantly, she recounted the fight. How she had struck Joshua down in the first minutes, and thought him beaten. How he had taken her by surprise, caught her and overpowered her before she could scramble free. And how she had killed him with one final, desperate blow.
Richard said nothing as Liz told her story. When she finally finished, the silence resumed, marked only by the whisper of the river as it tumbled over its stony bed. Strangely, Liz felt a weight lifting from her chest with the confession. She had not spoken to anyone but Chris about Joshua, and even then, she had not told him the full story.
She had expected Richard to rage at her when she finished, to scream and shout, to accuse her of murder. Joshua had been his cellmate, presumably his friend. But he said nothing, just sat quietly beside her, watching the water as it made its long journey through the mountains towards the distant coast.
“I’m sorry,” she said at last.
Richard shrugged. “We weren’t close.” He glanced in her direction. “After what happened last time, Jasmine and I weren’t keen to bond with the newbies.”
Liz swallowed at the despair in Richard’s eyes. She wanted to ask more, to discover the truth behind their feud with Sam and Ashley, but the words stuck in her throat.
