by Cheree Alsop
Yet we were free. What did that mean? When they had thrown the Academy doors open and forced us from the walls, they had shattered everything I knew about the world. I didn’t know where to go or what to do. The streets and buildings that passed below me were foreign places I had never wondered about. What did the people who looked up do, watching our forms fly past in the twilight? Why did they go inside the buildings or walk the streets? How was I to fit among them?
Terror filled me at the unknown. My wings faltered. The further I flew from the Academy, the faster I left the known and dove headlong into the unknown. I circled once. Galdoni I had known since my first steps continued past. No one spoke or acknowledged each other, the same as it had been within the Academy. Perhaps it wasn’t the building that dictated our actions. Maybe Galdoni were naturally antisocial.
I fought back a smile as I landed on the rooftop of a building. It was my insubordinate thoughts that had often gotten me into trouble at the Academy. The beatings I had received until I learned to keep them in my head instead of voicing them aloud were lessons in self-preservation.
Psychoanalysis was a subject of study because Galdoni had to find whatever weakness they could exploit in their enemy. Psychoanalysis of myself showed that I used humor as a form of defense. I may not have been the quickest or strongest among the fighters, but my ability to laugh at my mistakes and berate myself until I stood back up helped me win with perseverance. I wasn’t sure how my enemies could use that against me, but the teachers and duel instructors had been quick to beat me for it.
Maybe they didn’t like my jokes. I grinned and walked to the edge of the roof. Down below, ladders and small metal balconies lined the path to the alley. A pair of voices drifted up to me.
“I don’t want you to go.” The voice was feminine, something I hadn’t heard often during my life. There were two teachers and one administrator at the Academy that had been female. The lighter tones and gentleness of the voice held my attention.
“You don’t want me here.” I guessed the male to be my age by the youthfulness of his voice, somewhere around seventeen.
“I don’t want you to fight with your brother or hide beer and cigarettes in your bedroom, that’s what I don’t want.” By the tightness of her voice, she sounded close to tears.
“You don’t accept me for who I am, Mom,” the boy shouted.
A step on the metal balcony, then, “I love you for who you are; I just worry about where you’re going.”
“You don’t like my friends, you don’t like my girlfriend, and you always think I’m up to no good!”
“I just think they’re bad influences on you.”
“Maybe I can be a good influence on them.”
“It doesn’t work like that, and you know it.”
The metal of the balcony rang as someone kicked it. “There is no one else, Mom.” The boy’s voice was quieter as if he admitted something that was hard for him to say.
“What do you mean?” the woman asked.
The sound of metal being kicked again followed. “They’re the only friends I have. If I turn away from them, I’ll be alone.” I recognized the loneliness in the boy’s heart.
I shied away from the thought. I didn’t need anyone or anything. I was free of the Academy and the Galdoni and humans who beat me. I didn’t need anything else, but the fact that humans warred with the same loneliness broke something inside of me. Had I hoped it would be different? I scoffed at the thought. Galdoni didn’t hope. Hope was insubstantial, as meaningless as loneliness. Dwelling on either got me nowhere.
***
Jake dropped me off near the next house a few nights later. We usually didn’t hit so many for fear that we would be tracked down, but Jake had gotten a good lead that he said would pay off very well if we played our cards right.
Trepidation filled me with each step. I usually wasn’t nervous to hit a house. The healing lash marks across my chest burned as the strap of my satchel rubbed them, reminding me not to mess up. Jake had been fidgety in the car; he was usually calm and rational. He said that the money cache in this house held twice as much as the last, and said that I had to be sure to grab the envelope that was with the money. His excitement made me anxious to do good and prove my worth to him.
I studied the house that rose before me. White false shutters outlined windows curtained against the night. My steps echoed faintly against the beige siding. No lights showed in the interior. Jake had reassured me that the family had left on a vacation; nobody was expected home for at least two more days. That should have made me feel better, but instead my chest tightened as I drew near to the garage door.
It was locked. I let out a slow breath and drew my lock picking tools from my trench coat pocket. A Molotov shifted in the pack at my side, its glass chinking quietly against one of its comrades. I hadn’t wrapped them well enough. I gritted my teeth and concentrated. A few seconds later, the door swung inward. Beeping followed.
I hurried across the garage into the house, counting the seconds of my forced entry as I followed the sound. Luckily, the inside door leading to the house was open, so I stepped inside and looked around for the alarm board. The beeping came from the front closet. I pulled the door open to reveal a glowing red circle and a number panel.
I quickly punched in the numbers Jake had given me. The alarm continued to beep, signaling that I hadn’t entered the right code. I hit the numbers again, saying them out loud as Jake had done.
“Six, seven, five, five. . . .”
I hit the enter button again. It continued to beep. The timer was down to three seconds. Two. I hissed a curse and tore the panel from the wall. I fumbled through my backpack for the wire cutters I hardly ever needed. The cold metal was reassuring when I pulled them back out.
“One.”
I held my breath and clipped all the wires. The screen went blank and the siren I was waiting for didn’t sound. I stared at the empty screen for a second. A sigh of relief left me. I glared at the destroyed panel as I shoved the wire cutters back in my pack. At least the cops wouldn’t be on their way.
I followed Jake’s instructions to the basement. There was a well-stocked library to the left of the hall, followed by a wide room with a projector, reclining chairs, and several gold statues of men in wrestling holds. The one closest to the door caught my attention. One man was held in a headlock with his right arm held behind his back. His face was twisted in pain.
I chuckled. He could easily slip his left foot behind his opponent’s right, shift his weight to his right leg, then sweep his left foot around and duck at the same time. If he had a good hold on his opponent’s left wrist, he could have the man on the ground and at the verge of a dislocated shoulder in a matter of seconds.
I continued to the small study beyond. The room was bare; only a small wooden desk, a bronze lamp, and a picture of a ship on the ocean at sunset made up the only adornments. I knelt below the desk to the safe embedded in the wall. It was a newer style and would require a bit more finesse to open.
I pulled open my satchel and removed the drill. I withdrew the three Molotovs and adjusted the length of the wicks. Drilling a safe always took longer; being rushed by fire wasn’t a pleasant experience. After ensuring that I had all the tools I needed, I took the Molotovs up to the main level.
I set the first one in the garage like before. Vehicles ignited quickly and were hard to put out when trapped inside the confines of the garage. It was my safety measure to ensure that I got away because with a fire burning so furiously, the fire department wouldn’t have time to look for the culprit while they ensured the protection of the houses within reach of the flames.
I ran up the stairs to the second floor. Pictures lined the walls, photographs of children increasing in age each year, pictures on a beach, and kids with painted faces. A big family picture took up the majority of the space above the stairway, a mother and father with four children, three boys and a girl all dressed in white shirts and blue pants. The
pictures around it showed the same family by a car, having a picnic beneath a tree with autumn leaves, and holding balloons amid a crowd of people.
One small frame caught my attention from the end of the row. I stepped closer to get a better look. The girl’s eyes were beautiful with large brown irises. Wavy dark blond hair framed her face, accentuating high cheekbones. The barest hint of a smile touched her lips, but it didn’t show in her eyes. They held my attention. There was sadness in them, loneliness. My heart echoed the emotions with a painful thud.
I blew out a breath and turned away. I had a job to do. I lit the second Molotov in the upper living room near the curtained window. I ran back down the stairs, set the last Molotov in the kitchen next to floor-to-ceiling cabinets worked in beautiful spirals that I pretended not to notice, and jogged to the basement once more.
I drilled at an angle, aiming for the wheel pack as I had done many times on Jake’s practice safes. When the hole was complete, I slipped the borescope through the hole. My heart hammered in my chest. No matter how many times I had broken into houses, I was always anxious to leave. It would only take one slipup for the cops to catch me and send me back to the Academy. The thought was enough to hone my attention to what I was doing.
I turned the dial carefully, watching through the borescope as I did so. Each notch lined up as it was supposed to, and the fence finally fell into place. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and pulled the door open. I stared at the bars of gold it revealed.
A few safes had held such bars, usually one or two that were at least matched by the cash I also found. Jake’s excitement was definitely justified as I pulled out twenty gold bars along with several stacks of cash and an envelope of paper.
The sound of the first Molotov exploding in the garage made me work faster. A few seconds later, the next one followed in the kitchen. I double checked the safe to ensure it was completely empty, then spread the satchel on the ground with the main pocket wide open.
Chapter Three
The third Molotov exploded. A scream sounded above me. I jerked back and looked up the stairs. The sound had definitely been feminine. Memories of the girl I had saved rushed back. My chest still burned from the whipping. I had to bring the gold back to Jake.
I took a shuddering breath and began stacking the bars inside the satchel. I wasn’t sure how much it could hold. Each bar weighed roughly three pounds. I was definitely pushing the limits of the pack. Another scream sounded.
I packed faster, shoving the bars as close together as possible. I threw the cash on top, then slipped the envelope into a side pocket. Something crashed in the room above me. I was running out of time.
I grabbed the satchel; the strap tore. Cursing under my breath, I picked the bag up in both arms and ran up the stairs. Fire raced along the kitchen cabinets. Smoke billowed and burned my eyes. Jake’s Molotov cocktails were definitely getting more powerful. I made a mental note to set the fuses longer next time.
I slid the lock up on the sliding backdoor and stepped outside. Fresh night air rushed into the inferno that had become the kitchen. I took a deep breath to chase the smoke from my lungs.
Another scream sounded.
I needed to fly away. I should find Jake, get the gold and money to him, and leave the house behind to burn into a pile of ash.
I threw my trench coat in the bag. I knew what I should do. I knew what Jake expected.
I would pay later. I dropped the bag and opened my wings. With one powerful push, I rose to a balcony on the second floor. I pounded on the door with my fist. There was no movement inside. I regretted leaving my jacket. I gritted my teeth and drove my elbow through the glass door. Flames and smoke rushed out.
“Help!” the girl yelled.
“Where are you?” I demanded.
I ducked beneath the smoke. It was thick and black, the kind that could steal your breath from your lungs and leave you dead on the floor. I dropped to my knees and crawled, afraid that my wings would be singed by the fire racing across the ceiling.
“Over here!”
I made it through the door. The floor was hot, telling of the fire eating up from below. I couldn’t burn my hands; if I did, my ability to break into safes would be nullified. A beam fell from the vaulted ceiling to the floor. The crash of wood shook the house; embers rose to join the flames that were devouring the house much faster than I had imagined possible. I had never stayed inside to experience it.
A hand touched my arm. Instinct took over. I grabbed the hand and drove my shoulder forward, bowling the attacker to his back. I had a hand on his throat and was about to bring my fist down when my vision focused. I stared through the smoke at a pair of brown eyes. She didn’t beg for her life or cry. All she did was watch me, waiting to see what I would do.
I let go and backed up. “What are you doing in here?” I demanded through the crackle of fire around us.
“I live here,” she said.
She pushed up to a sitting position. A pair of gray wings rose behind her. My heart froze.
“You’re a-a—”
“You are, too,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper. She smiled, then began to cough.
“Stay low,” I told her. “Duck under the smoke.” She did as I directed, but she couldn’t stop coughing. I grabbed her arm and backpedaled down the hall toward the room with the balcony. She followed, coughing so hard her eyes filled with tears.
“Keep coming,” I said, though there was no other choice. The inferno behind us was so hot my skin felt like it was on fire. The floor sunk beneath our weight. I pulled her toward the black hole that marked our exit.
When we reached the balcony, I sucked in huge gulps of fresh air. The girl coughed and held onto the railing. I opened my wings. She stared at me.
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
“I can’t fly,” she said as if the idea was ridiculous.
“You’ve got wings,” I pointed out.
She lowered her gaze. I stepped back far enough to look behind her. The fire bit at my back, urging me to jump. My mouth fell open. Her feathers ended in jagged edges just below her back while mine brushed the middle of my calves.
“Someone cut your feathers,” I breathed, barely daring to believe it.
She lifted her chin and gave me a defiant look. “Then let me burn.”
I watched her, meeting her glare for glare. The balcony sank below us with a jerk. She let out a little shriek. I grabbed her around the waist and drove my wings down hard. We rose above the flaming house. The balcony collapsed, sending up a rush of sparks. I soared away from it and landed on a small rise near the south side of the house. Sirens raced toward us in the distance.
I turned to go.
She caught my arm. “Don’t leave me here.”
I met her brown gaze again. My heart gave a strange little thump at the fear in her eyes. “They’ll help you. Don’t you live here?”
She nodded, then shook her head. “I-I’m not supposed to be outside.” She pointed to her clipped wings. “I’m not supposed to exist.” The bitterness in her voice said more than the words.
I glanced toward the house where I had left the bag of gold bars. I couldn’t go back to Jake without them.
“Is there somewhere you can hide?” I asked. “I’ll come get you when things die down.”
She nodded. “There’s an overpass just west of here. I used to hide under there sometimes.”
“I’ll meet you there before dawn.” I opened my wings.
She caught my hand again. A slight tingle ran up my arm at the touch of her fingers on my skin. “Promise?” she asked.
Galdoni didn’t make promises. We had no use for them; they inspired hope, one of the vague uncertainties humans held onto. Such intangibles had no place in battle. There was only one certainty in the Academy; we would die. That hadn’t happened to me.
“I promise,” I said for the first time in my life. The sirens echoed off the side of the burning
house. “Run!” I told her.
She ran into the darkness as if the police would shoot her. She didn’t know how valuable Galdoni were. According to Jake, a Galdoni who didn’t pay the fees would be thrown into the first Arena battle without weapons, slaughtered for the coward and thief they were. It had cost so much to make us that not paying our dues was stealing from the government, and politicians looked poorly on thieves.
***
“Took your time,” Jake said when I landed near the car.
I let the bag of gold bars fall to the ground for effect. “It was heavier than I expected.”
His eyes widened at the sound and he dropped to his knees. He pulled the bag open. He grinned at the sight of the gold and cash, then lifted the flap and glanced at the envelope there. He laughed out loud. “Well done, Saro, my boy! You don’t know what you’ve just accomplished!”
The thought that I had accomplished more than he knew sounded in the back of my head. I opened the car door and sat inside.
Jake hefted the pack and carried it the best he could to the trunk of the car. The vehicle tipped back slightly when he lifted the pack inside with much grunting and huffing.
“Thanks for the help,” he said dryly when he collapsed on the driver’s seat.
“Try flying two miles with it,” I retorted before I could stop myself.
Instead of snapping at me like he usually would, he merely chuckled and turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life. He shifted the car into gear and pulled onto the lonely back road. I tipped my head to look out the window, wondering if the girl was safe.
Chapter Four
I flew back to the house just before sunrise. Jake had drunk himself into a happy stupor, and he wouldn’t miss me until the next evening at the earliest. I hadn’t seen him so happy since the first time I opened a safe using just my fingers to feel for the clicks of the dial. It was that night he declared he would pay the fees to keep me from the Academy. My year and a half of freedom had gone by so quickly.
