Broken Bonds

by Jade Alters

  She arches a brow. “Um, I’ve been out there a couple times by myself already, and I’ve been perfectly fine. Not that you would have noticed I was gone, seeing as your lab is about the only room you see most days.”

  Beneath her annoyance, I can hear a sliver of hurt. I don’t like it. I don’t like the idea that I’ve hurt her, even though I know it’s for the best. For a long moment, I just watch her finish getting ready and try to think of how I can fix things in a way that won’t give her the wrong idea about my intentions.

  When I can’t think of anything, like an idiot, I settle for, “I really don’t think you should go out alone. Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll go with you.”

  She freezes and looks at me with a furrowed brow, as if she’s confused. By my offer? By my concern? I’m not sure, but the next moment she releases a sigh and shakes her head.

  “It’s fine, really,” she insists, her tone not as sharp and cold. “I appreciate the offer, but the flock isn’t too far from here, and I’m just doing observation today. It’s really not a big deal.”

  I know she’s right, and it’s really not my place to tell her she shouldn’t go out there, especially since she has a few times already and I didn’t even notice. That realization makes me feel pretty crappy, I won’t lie.

  “Alright,” I say with a nod. “If you say so, but at least tell me you have a radio with you?”

  The corners of her mouth twitch, and I think she might be fighting a smile.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got one,” she assures me.

  “Okay,” I reply. I feel silly, acting like some concerned parent or boyfriend, but I would be concerned about anyone going outside by themselves. Not just her.

  Silence falls between us then, and that heavy weight of awkwardness seems to increase on my shoulders as I wait to see what she’ll do.

  At length, she finally says, “Well…I’ll get going, then.”

  She moves toward me, and I jump out of her way so she doesn’t graze me as she walks past. She pauses for just a moment and glances at me out of the corner of her eyes. Another flash of hurt crosses her gaze, but it’s there one second and gone the next.

  “See you later,” she says in a soft voice.

  “See you,” I respond. She continues out of the room and I watch her until she disappears down the hall.

  Samantha

  The birds are a thing of beauty. They’re odd looking, with reptilian features that make them look almost like dinosaurs, but just like the other times I’ve come to see them, they leave me breathless with their expansive wings and snow-white feathers. I give them plenty of space as I watch them, and apart from a few curious looks and some territorial feather-ruffling, they ignore me.

  I hold up my camera and take some pictures while I also jot down notes about their behaviors. I’m grateful for the peace and quiet to do my work, awestruck by the landscape around me…and yet I can’t stop thinking about Dr. Pyrrhos. He should be the furthest thing from my mind right now, and yet I can’t seem to push him out.

  I keep thinking about that kiss, and how good it was. Tingles shoot up my spine remembering how his lips felt pressed to mine. How his hands felt roaming my body.

  More than that, though, I find myself angry. Really angry. Like, surprisingly angry, actually. I wouldn’t have guessed it would bother me quite so much to have Dr. Pyrrhos essentially ignore me after the fact. What’s worse, though is that he ran from the room after he broke the kiss! The look in his eyes was one of shock and near horror, and it hurt me way more than I would ever admit out loud.

  What’s so wrong with me that he would react that way? Did he even think about the way he was making me feel in that moment? Doubtful. I’m beginning to think Dr. Pyrrhos is incapable of considering anyone’s feelings but his own.

  Gnashing my teeth in frustration, I stand, wanting a better look at the nesting mothers. There’s a narrow, icy ridge looking over a shallow ravine that acts as a natural bridge between where I am and the nests. I crossed it once before when I was collecting samples, so I begin to carefully make my way across again. I don’t know if I’m overly confident because I’ve done this once before, or just that upset that I’m not thinking straight, but whatever the reason, I’m not completely focused on crossing the ridge. My mind keeps wandering back to Dr. Pyrrhos, and I’m so distracted that I take a misstep. My foot slips, and suddenly I’m tumbling down into the ravine.

  I let out a startled scream that causes the birds to start squawking in panic so the air is filled with their noise once I hit the bottom of the ravine. For several moments, I don’t move. I try to let the shock of my fall pass so I can assess if I’m seriously hurt anywhere. Slowly, I move my hands, arms, foot, and leg, and to my relief, nothing appears broken. Bruised and tender, sure, but that’s about it. I let out a breath and slowly sitting up, continuing to pay attention to my body as I move. There’s a pain in my left side where I landed on the radio I had strapped to my coat, but that doesn’t seem serious. I’ll probably have a nasty bruise, but that’s all. I begin to slowly stand, relying on my leg to carry my weight until I’m able to get the prosthetic back under me. When I’m standing enough that I can shift my weight more evenly, I do so, but my prosthetic starts to immediately shake and buckle beneath me.

  With another startled cry, I lose my balance and fall back onto my butt on the snow-covered ice. I grab at my pantleg and yank it up over my prosthetic and I see a large crack compromising the knee-joint. Flinching, I roll the pantleg back down and try once more to stand, favoring my leg over the artificial one. By the time I’m upright, I’m practically hopping on one foot. My prosthetic just can’t bear hardly any of my weight with the joint cracked. I gaze around, looking for some way out of the predicament I find myself in.

  The ravine is shallow, but the walls are icy. They’re not completely smooth, and I could potentially climb out…but not with one leg.

  Damn it, I think I’m stuck. I don’t let myself panic, though, and go to unclip my radio. I click the button to talk into it, but I don’t get any static to let me know it’s connected to any signal. Frowning, I release the button than hit it again.

  “Hello?” I say. “Hello? Can anybody hear me?”

  I wait, but the total silence that follows my question tells me that something is wrong with the device. Crap! Did I break it somehow when I landed on it? I turn it over in my hand and inspect it. Nothing vital looks damaged on the outside, but it’s possible something got dislodge on the inside from the impact of the fall.

  Now the panic is starting to take hold. I hit the radio’s button again.

  “Hello? Hello? Please! Anyone. I’m trapped and need help!”

  Still, there’s nothing. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

  Dropping the useless radio, I hop over to the ravine wall and grab onto a couple small ledges of ice and try to pull myself up. I jump a little to try and get my foot into some kind of divot in the ice, but my hands can’t hold my weight and I lose my grip. I fall again, landing on my back with a moan.

  I lay there for a bit and stare up at the clear blue sky. It’s going to be dark before too long, I realize. There’s no way I’ll survive if I’m stuck in this ravine overnight. I’ll freeze to death before morning.

  Dr. Pyrrhos’ concerned expression and his cautious words that I shouldn’t come out here alone flash through my head. As it turns out, he was right, but I was too stubborn and upset with him to give him the benefit of acknowledging that there was some merit to his words. Now, all I can do is hope that he realizes when I’ve been gone too long and comes looking for me before it’s too late.

  Otherwise, he’ll be rescuing my corpse.

  Aleixo

  There’s a bad feeling twisting my gut, but I don’t know what’s provoking it. I try to ignore it and focus on my work. I returned to my lab as soon as Samantha went out on her exhibition and I haven’t left it all day. Sleep seems impossible right now, because if I let my mind wander in the slightest,
I instantly begin to worry about Samantha.

  I wish she hadn’t gone out alone. I know she’s done it before, but she really shouldn’t have. I’m kicking myself because I should’ve gone with her, both this time and the previous time. Of course, I was being an ass the first time and hiding away in my lab, so she likely didn’t even have the chance to ask me because she never saw me.

  I tell myself, though, that she’s a grown woman, and I have no hold over her to try and tell her what she can and cannot do. Still, I just can’t help my worry.

  That bad feeling in my gut is still there and seems to be growing stronger and stronger with each passing moment. No matter how hard I try, I can’t ignore. It’s like this sensation of impending doom that’s pressing down on me harder and harder until it’s almost suffocating.

  With a start, I realize what it is. It’s the bond. The bond is trying to warn me about something. I give in and allow myself to feel exactly what the bond is trying to tell me. I’m overwhelmed by feelings of danger.

  Samantha is in danger.

  I don’t know what kind of danger and I don’t know where she is exactly, but all I know is that the bond is demanding that I go and rescue her. Every protective instinct I possess is screaming to life. I stop fighting my instincts, abandon my work and rush out of my lab. Hurrying through the facility, I get to the storage area where the outdoor equipment is kept and quickly grab a suit, boots, goggles, and gloves. I quickly throw everything on and rush to the main door of the facility, yanking it open and stepping out into the sharp cold air. The sun is starting to set, which means the temperature is going to drop severely. Even bundled as she’d been when she’d left, there’s no way that Samantha will survive a night out in this wilderness if she’s stranded somewhere.

  Running to the shed where the snowmobiles and other winter vehicles are stored, I climb onto one and start it up, gunning the engine in my hurry. One snowmobile is missing, no doubt the one that Samantha had taken herself when she’d first gone out. I have a rough idea of where she went, since she’d told me the area that her birds were nested. Thankfully, it’s really not far from the facility, and I find the area within fifteen minutes or so.

  Bringing the snowmobile to a stop, I hop off and quickly look around as I begin sprinting toward the flock of strange-looking, reptilian-like birds. They squawk at me in agitation as I wander among them, but I ignore their furious gazes and flapping wings. My head is on a swivel as I search for Samantha. I spot her snowmobile on the edge of the flock and some of her equipment, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

  “Samantha?” I shout, startling the birds further. “Samantha, where are you?”

  The damn birds won’t shut-up and I’m afraid she won’t be able to hear me, or I won’t be able to hear her if she responds. I walk a little further, shouting her name several more times, growing more panicked with every second that passes.

  Finally, I hear a soft call of, “Help!”

  I freeze, spinning around and shouting, “Samantha! Where are you? Talk to me!”

  “Help!” she cries again, louder this time, but I can hear the strain in her voice. I still can’t see her, so my panic is in no way subsiding.

  “Samantha, I need you to tell me where you are,” I instruct her. “I can’t see you.”

  “Ravine,” I hear her say. “I’m trapped.”

  Frowning, I carefully follow her voice and come upon the slippery edge of a shallow ravine. I peer down into it and spot Samantha sprawled out at the bottom in the snow.

  “Samantha!” I shout down at her.

  She peers up at me and relief crosses her face, but she also looks exhausted. It’s as if she’s just been holding out for someone to find her, and now that I’m here, her strength drained from her and she falls unconscious right before my eyes. Shit, that’s not good. I don’t know if she’s hurt or the cold has sapped her energy, but either way, I need to get her out of there and back to the facility.

  I look up and down the ravine, trying to find a way down there to her. There’s no easy way to do it that I can see, and if I manage to get down there, I’m not sure that I could get back out while carrying her. I grit my teeth as I realize there’s really only one way I can rescue her. Instinctively, I look around, but then quickly remember that there’s no one else around to see what I do next.

  Taking a deep breath, I summon my fire from within me. My body begins to shift and change, my physical form changing as I become a full phoenix. Much of the time we don’t fully shift but maintain a partial human form but since I’m trying to keep my secret from Samantha, suddenly appearing with wings would be a dead giveaway. The other birds fall silent as they recognize the creature that has suddenly appeared among them. Once the transformation is complete, I spread my wings and drop off the edge of the ravine. I swoop down to the bottom and land next to Samantha. Lowering my head, I press it to her cheek and am startled by how cold she is.

  Dangerously cold.

  I realize I need to warm her up before I try to move her. She’s on the verge of freezing to death if I don’t do something. Covering her with my wings, I focus my warmth to filter through my feathers and surround her. My body pulses as I push my energy out and into her. The wind’s bite grows a little sharper as I part with some of my warmth, leaving me more vulnerable to the elements. I’m not in any danger, though, so long as I don’t give too much of my heat to her.

  Suddenly, her eyelids flutter and then open. She stares up at me and I stare back as I fight every instinct in me telling me to change back before she realizes what’s going on. If I do that, though, she’ll freeze and we’ll never get out of this ravine. So, I just keep looking at her as my wings pump heat over her body. A second later, her eyes widen as realization seems to finally hit her.

  “Wait…wait, what is this? What are you?” she murmurs, her tone growing frantic as she attempts to sit up once she realizes a giant bird is hovering over her. “You’re not…this isn’t possible....”

  “It’ll be okay, Samantha,” I say without thinking, just trying to calm her down. How could I be such an idiot?!! Instead of reassuring her and calming her down, my words only seem to freak her out further. Which, of course they do. She’s staring up into the face of a huge bird and it’s talking to her in English. It would be weird if she wasn’t freaking out; no doubt the shock settling into her system is tamping down her reaction a bit.

  “What the hell?” she yelps. “Aleixo? Is that you?”

  Reluctantly, I nod. “It is. I promise I’ll explain everything later, but for now I need to get you to…”

  “You’re a phoenix!” Her voice is rising as she fully digests what’s going on. “That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

  Now a strange excitement has filtered into her gaze that makes me frown, but I tell myself I can’t worry about that right now. The sun is hanging low in the sky, and I’m not sure I could even survive a night out here. Not even in my phoenix form.

  “You shift between forms?” she asks, her voice fast and words rambling. “No, that’s a stupid question. Of course you shift between forms. You were human earlier when I left you, or do you think of yourself as human? What do you refer to yourself as? Human? Phoenix? Shifter? Are any of those terms derogatory to you?”

  She’s starting to babble, making less and less sense with each second that passes, and I let out a huff of frustration.

  “I told you I’d tell you everything once we’re safe.” I snap my beak at her. “Now shut up and let me help you get out of here. Can you stand?”

  She instantly clamps up, but I’m not sure it’s because of my sharp rebuke. Slowly, she shakes her head.

  “Uh…no. I can’t stand up.”

  “Broken leg?”

  “In a manner of speaking. My prosthetic is damaged and can’t hold my weight.”

  Damn it. I’d considered the possibility that she could be hurt, but the reality makes things a lot more difficult. She can’t walk, which means I not only have to lift her
out of here, but carry her all the way back to the base. She’s small and so shouldn’t pose a problem weight-wise, even with the extra pounds of equipment she’s wearing. Landing will probably be our biggest obstacle, as I’ll have to do so in a way that doesn’t jar her leg. I also don’t have anything to set it with, so it’s going to dangle beneath her and probably hurt her.

  The bond protests at the thought of bringing her pain, but I quickly silence it. Temporary pain is a small price to pay to keep her from freezing to death.

  “I’m going to get you out of here,” I tell her.

  “How?” she asks, appearing baffled. “Can you carry my weight?”

  I nearly roll my eyes at her. “Of course I can, but it won’t be a comfortable ride.”

  Before she can ask me any other questions, I lift my wings away from her. She begins to shiver immediately, and I know we’re on borrowed time. I quickly move behind her and lift one of my feet to carefully latch my talons into the shoulder of her coat. With a flap of my wings, I lift into the air and grab her other shoulder as well.

  “Woah,” she protests, jerking in my grip.

  “Hold still,” I order her. “I don’t want to drop you.”

  She instantly freezes and I pump my wings to take us higher into the air. Samantha lets out a startled gasp as we rise higher and higher, but she holds perfectly still, much to my relief.

  Soon, we’ve risen above the ravine and I begin to head toward the base, leaving the snowmobiles and everything else behind. I’ll return tomorrow to collect everything.

  Samantha is stiff as a board, which is good, because my hold on her is somewhat precarious. I can almost feel the threads of her snowsuit protesting against my grip and I’m afraid they’re going to snap at any moment. I move my wings faster, determined to reach the base before I end up dropping her.

  Thankfully, flying to the facility is much faster than snowmobiling, and we arrive within just a few minutes. Very carefully, I lower us down and let Samantha put weight on her good leg before easing her to the ground in front of the door. Her whole body suddenly goes lax and she lets out a gasp, as if she’s been holding her breath the whole time we were in flight.