Sparrow Man

by M. R. Pritchard

“I know.” Jim chuckles. “It’s kinda sick. Falling in love with a baby. I’d run away too. He didn’t know who you really were, but I’m sure when he saw how trashy you are, he knew he had to get away.”

  “Meg-” Sparrow starts but the boot to his throat ends whatever words he was going to say.

  “Don’t worry about it, bird-man. I’ll fill her in on everything. Did you know his kind live a very long time? Your kind, Meg, you’re one of them.” He waves a hand towards Sparrow.

  “No, I’m not. I don’t have wings,” I reply, shaking my head.

  “Wings.” Jim sneers and walks towards Sparrow. “You mean these?” He reaches down and pulls on the tip of Sparrows wings. “Wings… haha!” I watch in horror as he stomps down with his booted foot, crushing the bone.

  Sparrow flinches and groans.

  “Leave him alone!” I twist my arms in the chains, wishing I could break free from them.

  “You see, Meg. You don’t have wings because none of the monarchy does. Only their warriors have wings, even the feeble ones.” He stops and drops his chin. “Is it clicking in your little brain yet? Meg? You’re a fucking princess.”

  “Shit,” I mumble. I look to Sparrow who tips his head in agreement. “You’re wrong. I’m not.”

  “You’re wrong.” He points at me. “Wish I had known that before I tried to kill you the first time. I could have been a prince. Lived in luxury.” Jim sighs and walks towards me. “You killed us that night, Meg. Me and the guys. Shot us dead. Wasn’t expecting that.” He grinds the feather he’s been holding in his hand and drops it to the floor. “We were after you for the money back then. But now, now it’s for the blood.”

  “You took enough of my blood. I needed three transfusions.”

  “Oh, suck it up. You would have survived without the transfusions. Didn’t he tell you?” Jim twists on his heels and points at Sparrow on the floor. “Guess not.” Jim shrugs, waltzes over to Sparrow and rips another feather out of his wings. “Let’s see, where did I leave off? Oh yeah, you killed us that night. And we bad, bad men descended to the bowels of Hell for what we did.”

  “It’s where you belong.”

  Jim’s eyebrow quirks up. “But is it where you belong?”

  “I don’t give a fuck.”

  “You might.” Jim holds the most recent feather he’s plucked from Sparrow. A bright red one. He taps me on the nose with it. “Did you know that Hell is filled with gossip and murmurings and tales of the lost child of the heavens who would one day show up down here, along with her banished Legion commander?” I swallow hard. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Jim. He smiles and tips his head to Sparrow. “Your father here, John, he showed up not long after that little punk Jack smacked him upside his head with his Billy-club, on his way to county lock-up. Guess you woke up from that coma, Meg.”

  My father stands over Sparrow. He smiles, palms his fist and cracks the knuckles. “Wait ‘till that little bastard shows up down here. He’s going to get what’s coming to him.”

  “Yes, well, remember, we hope to be out of here by the time Jack meets his maker,” Jim adds.

  “I hate you both,” I breathe out.

  “You never really loved either of us anyways, so what does it matter now? Hmm. Where was I? Oh yes, did you know that if the blood of that lost child is spilled, those who drink it can release themselves from the bowels of Hell? We can crawl out of this cesspool as though we never died in the first place.”

  “So where’s your lost child?” I ask Jim with a flatness in my voice like never before.

  “Haha! Oh my dear, sweet, trashy, stupid Meg.”

  “Hey!” I hear Sparrow’s voice from behind Jim. He groans as the boot across his neck presses harder. Jim walks towards Sparrow, kicks him hard in the side, reaches down and pulls out an entire handful of feathers and tosses them in the air. They flutter to the floor, covering Sparrow.

  Jim leans down. “Shut up, dumbass. You got yourself into this mess.” He reaches down again, pulling out one of the large gray eagle feathers. “You!” Jim points the tip of the feather at me as he turns and walks swiftly towards me with renewed focus. “I didn’t just chain your scrawny ass up because I like to see you like this.” He brushes the feather over my left cheek. “Although, I admit it’s a damn good look for you. I should have tried this when we were living together. Might have made those cold winter nights a little more enjoyable than watching you paint that fuckin’ nursery for a baby that was never going to see the light of day.” Darkness cloaks Jim’s eyes. He drops the feather, reaches forward with both hands and starts unbuttoning my shirt.

  “Don’t touch me, you bastard!” I jerk my body. The chains jangle but don’t loosen.

  “I will do with you whatever I please,” Jim replies with a swift backhand that makes my vision blurry. “That includes a little fun before spilling your blood.” He pulls on my shirt, popping all of the buttons off. He brushes his hand across my abdomen.

  A whimper escapes my throat.

  “Don’t touch her!” Sparrow yells from the ground, struggling against my father’s boot.

  Jim whips around. “What’s wrong, bird-man? Don’t want me to lick your candy? Did she tell you how used up she was already? I mean, before me there was, what?” He twists towards me with his finger on his chin. “How many were there before me, slut? At least ten. And then there were the seven just before I died. Did she tell you that already?” Jim turns back to Sparrow, walking swiftly to his side and bending down. “Did she tell you how she enjoyed those seven men as I watched? And she was pregnant at the time! Just like a true strumpet, spreading her legs for anyone.”

  This time he kicks Sparrow in the side of the skull and I see Sparrow blink rapidly before his head flops to the side.

  “Leave him alone!” I scream at Jim.

  “Well, now, why would I do that?” A scraping sound in the corner of the cave causes Jim to turn towards the shadows. “Settle down.”

  I focus on the shadows, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. There are forms standing in a line, watching. “Who are they?”

  Jim laughs. “You know them already. Quite well, actually.”

  He waves a hand. Boots scrape across the rock floor as a group of men step forward. Seven men.

  “Fuck,” I whisper.

  “Yeah. I’d say that too if I were you.”

  I glance around the room, the severity of our current situation strikes me. We are shit out of luck here.

  “Just kill me already. That’s what you want.”

  “Wait.” Jim scratches his head. “I was tellin’ a fuckin’ story but everyone keeps interrupting me.” He hollers. “Now, where was I?”

  “You were talking bullshit about some lost child you have yet to find,” I remind him.

  “Oh yes! Thank you so much for reminding me, Meg.” He takes a step towards me, shakes his index finger in my direction. “You should have died that day. You should have been dead and then we were going to split all that money. It’s absurd really, letting your woman live in a strange place, give her lots of money to survive on but only send one stupid Legion Commander to watch over them.”

  “You don’t know anything about my mother.”

  “I know plenty. Your daddy here filled me in, along with the rumor mill down here. I’m pretty certain I have this little story all figured out. Your pregnant little momma left her home in the heavens to escape a life of royalty, rules, and council meetings so her daughter could have a different life. A free life. One where men didn’t rule over her every move. Her lover packed her up with pockets full of money and a baby in her belly, sent her down to play with the humans. But your momma was just as stupid as you are. Found the tiniest town in the North Country, flapped her lips about all the money, shacked up with your demon-daddy over there and wasn’t strong enough to get away from him. She was weak. Just like you.”

  “I’m nothing special. You and him told me that my whole life.” I twist my wrists against the chains.

/>   “Of course he told you that. If you knew you carried royal blood from the heavens, I get the feeling you wouldn’t have stuck around. But this time, this time you’re going to die.” Jim reaches behind his back and draws out a dagger. He holds the sharp tip of it to the base of my neck. “You’re going to die, just as soon as I get done with that menace over there on the ground.”

  Jim turns and begins a swift, purposeful walk to where Sparrow lies unconscious on the ground. His shoes make hollow noise as he walks and I know without a doubt that Jim is going to kill Sparrow, right now, in front of me.

  “No!” I scream. “No! No! No! Stop!” I scream so loud that Jim jerks upright and turns back to me, a sick half-smile on his lips.

  I look at Sparrow on the ground across from me. The old Meg would have run off and left him there as a distraction. I’ve been called nothing but trash my entire life and all I’ve ever done was back up the names with my actions. Never had a reason to act any different, I never had anyone to impress… now I do. I’m not going to listen to them. I’m not going to give them any reasons to think of me like this anymore. Maybe I could do this one good thing. Maybe that could make a difference. With this one act, for once in my life I can stop trying to prove them right. With this death, I can prove them all wrong.

  “Stop, please.” I beg Jim. “Just leave him alone. Take me. Kill me first. I’m who you want anyway.”

  “Spilling the blood of royalty will bring us great power, more than enough to deal with big-bird afterwards.” John Lewis suggests. I think it’s the only good thing he’s ever done, agreeing with me, even if he didn’t mean it.

  I can do this. I tell myself. I can save his life. “Take me first. Just, let him go,” I plead.

  “Hmm. Bartering on your death bed?” Jim asks.

  “You don’t need him. You said yourself you only need my blood. So take it. Just promise me you’ll let him go.”

  Jim turns towards Sparrow on the ground, and flicks his finger towards my father who removes his boot from Sparrow’s neck and lifts him to stand.

  “As you wish, princess,” Jim says with a sneer as he turns towards me.

  This isn’t the first time someone has tried to kill me. My blood has been spilled more than once and I get the feeling that maybe Sparrow was right; this is a life I was never meant to live, here or in the earthen realm.

  Jim walks towards me, blade in hand. He presses the point to the base of my neck. “There are no guns for you to find this time.” He glances at my bound hands, strung above my head.

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “I’m only doing this because I feel just the tiniest bit awful about you not dying the first time.”

  The old Meg, she would have told him to fuck off. Maybe even spit in his face, tried to kick him in the balls. I’m pretty sure I did it fifteen minutes ago, but now, now I give him a soft smile. “I will forgive you,” I whisper just loud enough for him to hear. And for the first time in my life, I think I might actually mean it. “Thank you.”

  The last thing I see is Sparrow’s face as he opens his eyes to look at me. His handsome features morphing into that of understanding and dread. I try not to remember what he told me about this being his punishment. He can live on. He can find someone else to spend his time with, someone better.

  I close my eyes, feel a few hot tears drip down my face, and wait to feel something, the slice of a blade, the puncturing of my heart. Whatever it’s going to be, I’m sure it will feel nothing like what I’ve endured my entire life. At least all that I’ve been through has prepared me for the pain of death, just not the pain of leaving Sparrow behind.

  A white-hot throbbing starts in the middle of my chest, spreads throughout my body. I’m sure what I’m feeling is Jim’s blade. It has to be, because no emotion could hurt this bad. A bright light bursts from behind my eyes and I hear my own voice in my ears, screaming. Then there is nothing.

  Except… the sound of someone struggling!

  I open my eyes to find myself still dangling, a knife sticking out of the center of my chest, and Sparrow wrestling with my ex-father.

  Jim slinks towards them, Sparrow’s machete in his hand. He raises his arm, the blade gleaming in the dim firelight. As he brings it down to Sparrow’s back, I hear myself yell and then my voice collapses with exhaustion as the blade only hits Sparrow with a blunt force, just like the time I tried to use it against the dead.

  Sparrow turns, one hand twisting my ex-father’s face, the other grasping the shaft of the machete and twisting it out of Jim’s hand. Sparrow moves swiftly, swiping the blade across my father’s neck.

  Jim steps back. I hear his voice, the voices of those seven men in the shadows as he calls on them to go after Sparrow. I recognize their laughter; it’s the same as when they came after me.

  Jim looks towards me, seeing my eyes open he walks towards me. “Good. You’re awake. This is about to get interesting.”

  “You’re a bastard.”

  “Possibly.” He shrugs.

  “I don’t understand how you’ve become so evil.” Noticing the sharp pain of the knife in my chest, I wince, try to slow my breathing.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t notice before, Meg. Our little podunk town holds more secrets than you have come to realize. I’m more than just the son of a small town sheriff.” He gives a satisfied grin. “You think it was a coincidence I showed up downstate at your college campus? It wasn’t. And there’s a reason why my father wanted you to get an abortion and not taint our bloodlines. Maybe John was right. Maybe you really are just incredibly stupid.”

  Jim stops talking at the sounds of bodies colliding. Sparrow kicks one of the men in the chest hard enough to knock him down. Turning, he slices the blade across another’s throat, sending a spray of blood across his own chest, staining the feathers that peek from behind his shoulders. He swivels and ducks, nearly missing the set of arms coming from behind him. He kicks at another chest, swipes his blade at another throat. Three down, four to go.

  Knowing what those men are capable of, watching Sparrow is kind of mesmerizing. I have never seen his body move so fluidly, his focus so intent. He swings the machete, another head drops. Three to go. The floor sticky with the fluids of death, Sparrow’s footing slips and he goes down, rolling to his side, away from the last three. Like a vulture to a carcass they descend on him, but Sparrow slices at their legs, bringing two more down. The last man gives Sparrow a hard blow to the chest with his elbow. It doesn’t seem to faze Sparrow; he’s on his feet and swinging, bringing the last man down before turning to the two injured ones on the ground and finishing them.

  I turn. Jim is no longer at my side pestering me with tiny clues. Sparrow takes in his surroundings, breathing heavy, before making eye contact with me.

  “Meg!” Sparrow runs to me. He glances at the knife in my chest. “Don’t look at that.” I don’t, I only look at him. He’s sweating, tense, covered in blood-his own and others. “I have to pull this out.” He reaches for the knife.

  “No! Wait. I don’t think you’re supposed to do that.”

  He grips the blade. “I can’t leave it in.”

  “Sparrow!” I gasp, fearing the pain.

  “Hold your breath. I’ll count to three.”

  I nod, taking a deep breath. Waiting to hear his words.

  “Ready?”

  I nod again.

  “Three.” He pulls the blade and drops it to the floor.

  “Sparrow!”

  “What?”

  “You ass, you didn’t even count!”

  “I know.” The corner of his mouth tips up in a quick grin. “Oh crap.” His voice turns gruff as I feel his hands on my chest, covering the knife wound.

  I’ve seen my blood before, as I lay on the floor of my house. For some reason this time it seems to exit my body faster, maybe it’s because I’m strung up like a turkey. “It’s bad?” I ask.

  “You’ll live.”

  “Jim…” I look around to s
ee if he has re-appeared. “He said I’d live forever?”

  Sparrow tilts his head. “Unless you suffer a mortal wound.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like… let’s talk about that later.” I look down to see thick streams of blood dripping around his fingers.

  “A wound like this?” I start to panic.

  Sparrow’s brow furrows. “Let’s hope not. I have to get you down from there.” His hands leave my chest as he reaches for the metal clasps around my wrists. My blood drips down his arms and the chains he touches.

  “Where’s Jim?” I ask.

  “Ran off.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Said he’d catch up with us later.”

  “What a loser.”

  “No f-bombs?” Sparrow asks as I feel the metal loosen from around my wrists.

  “I’m not feeling very feisty right now,” I mumble, fighting the heavy feeling in my eyelids. “I think I’ve felt like this before. I think I’ve lost too much blood.”

  There’s a sharp clang, my arms drop. Sparrow catches me and lowers me to the ground. “You’ll be fine. You just need to rest and heal.” I feel his hands move to the wound on my chest and resume pressure.

  “Sparrow?”

  “What?” His eyes search the room as I speak.

  “I’m sorry I gave up.”

  “You didn’t give up.” His eyes are back on mine.

  “Yes I did. Twice now. Back on the road and here, just now. I’m sorry. It was selfish.”

  “It’s okay. You gave your life for me even though you barely know me. That is admirable.” I feel him lessen the pressure on my wound.

  It hurts, not the wound, but having spent all these weeks with the crazy Sparrow and to have him change on me. “You’re some kind of a warrior?” I ask.

  He nods. “I haven’t been for about twenty-five years. That was part of my punishment for losing you. I was expelled from the Legion, the collection of warriors from the heavens.”

  “You knew you loved me when I was a baby?”

  Sparrow’s face drops and he leans away from me. I know this look: shame.

  “I know it was wrong. That’s why I left. That’s why this is my fault. All of it.”