Into the Fire

by Cheree Alsop

  She pulled the saline spray from the bag followed by a few scraps of gauze. “Got to clean it so you don’t get an infection.” She sprayed my chest. I winced at the sudden brush of cold on the open wounds. “I’m sorry,” she said in a whisper.

  I looked at her. Her brown eyes stared up at me, so full of understanding for my pain. In that moment, I wanted to kiss her. I had never kissed a girl in my life, understandable since she was one of the very few I had ever met. Yet the urge to press my lips against hers at that moment was almost more than I could bear. I turned my head away before I followed through with something so absurd. My heart pounded and my head swam dizzily. I put a hand to it.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Just lightheaded,” I replied, avoiding her gaze.

  She scooted around me. “Put your back to the couch. It’ll give you something to lean against while I work on this.”

  I did as she directed, then grinned wryly at how I was following the orders of someone half my size. I could easily snap her in two.

  “What’s that smile for?” she asked as she cleansed the blood the best she was able to from my skin.

  I looked at her. “Just thinking about how I could kill you.”

  She gave me a bland look. “This might be news to you, but I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Not at all?”

  She shook her head, but the smile I was looking for touched her lips. “Not at all,” she replied.

  I closed my eyes with an answering smile. Somehow her response meant so much to me. I didn’t want her to be afraid, ever. I vowed to do whatever I could to keep from seeing fear in her eyes that I caused.

  “These are deep,” she said as she spread salve across the wounds. “Do they need stitches?”

  I looked down at my chest. Several did look rather gaping. I nodded. “Probably, but we don’t have the supplies and I’m not feeling up to doing my own stitches.”

  “I could do them.”

  I gave her a bland look of my own. “Really?”

  She thought about it, then shook her head. “I’ve never done stitches before.”

  “I have.”

  “I noticed.” Her fingers touched the scar along my side.

  It ran from almost the middle of my back and ran around to my stomach. The scar had hardened as it healed, creating a thick knot of ugly skin. At her soft touch, I felt the bit of Blade’s sword again, slow and sliding as he reveled in the chance to take my life. A shudder ran through me.

  “What happened?” Alana asked.

  “I was supposed to die,” I replied. “But I refused.” I closed my eyes, remembered tearing my bedding into small strips, then forcing them through my skin with the tine from a metal fork I had sharpened on the bricks of my cell. Tying the knots had been the hardest part. By the time I was done, my hands shook too hard to grasp the cloth firmly enough. The last few remained loose, and so the scarring had taken a lot longer to strengthen. When they checked on me in my cell a few days later fully expecting to find me dead, my request for water had shocked the guards and they hastened to obey.

  “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

  “I don’t know when to quit,” I replied.

  “That’s a good thing.”

  I opened my eyes at the surety of her tone. “Why is that?”

  “Because who else would have taken care of my feet?” she asked.

  I chuckled and she laughed out loud. The sound was so carefree and happy I felt better just by being near her. She laid bandages across my chest, then proceeded to use half the gauze in the bag by wrapping it around my middle and shoulder to keep the bandages in place.

  She worked around on her knees to my back and I sat up so she could finish tying off the gauze. She paused, and I felt her fingers run through my feathers.

  “I’ve never seen golden wings,” she said. “They’re so beautiful.”

  “It’s what keeps me going,” I replied. A tingle ran along my wings as she caressed my feathers. I fought to keep my thoughts focused. “Flying is what I live for.”

  “I want to fly.” Her words were so soft as if she barely dared to speak them.

  I wondered how miserable she had been, trapped in that house at the whim of her creator; unable to escape from the realities of her life. Life at the Academy had been so similar I ached for her. “You will fly,” I promised.

  She nodded, but the look in her eyes said she didn’t dare to believe it. Perhaps lack of hope was a Galdoni trait instead of something the Academy had to demolish. She tucked the supplies back into the bag, then scooted back on her knees to get a good look at my chest. “I guess that’ll have to do.”

  I gave her work an appraising glance. “You did a good job.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” she rebuked with a laugh.

  I smiled. “You did have a good teacher.”

  She nodded, then her smile faltered. She reached out and touched an exposed place near my stomach that hadn’t been cut. “So many scars, Saro.”

  I followed her fingers. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s the scars holding me together or if it’s the other way around.”

  “They must come with a price.”

  “All of them do,” I responded in a whisper.

  She moved next to me so that her head rested under my arm. The action surprised me. I sat with my arm raised unsure of what to do. She reached up and took my hand, then lowered my arm around her shoulders. “I feel safe here,” she said.

  “You are safe here,” I replied. I kicked myself mentally. I had to quit making so many promises. I had never kept a promise in my life, nor made one for that matter. What made me think I was able to do so now? Her hair tickled the bottom of my chin. I stifled a sigh.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  I thought about it for a moment. We had trained in age groups at the Academy, and that was over a year and a half ago. “Seventeen,” I told her.

  She nodded. “I’m sixteen. If I was human, I’d be driving.”

  I chuckled. “You have wings; when the feathers grow out, you won’t need to drive.”

  “I like that idea,” she said.

  She fell silent. I wondered if she could hear the way my heart pounded in my chest at her nearness. Having her lean against me made my whole side warm. I could have sat there for a year without moving.

  “Saro?”

  “Yes?” I was inordinately happy about the way she said my name. It sounded familiar, like we had talked for years. “Yes, Alana?” I repeated, just to say her name.

  I could hear the answering smile in her tired voice when she said, “We’re going to be okay, right?”

  “We’re going to be just fine.” Dang it. I couldn’t stop with the promises.

  “Good.” The word lingered sleepily in the air.

  I remembered about Alana’s feet and the slight fever I had felt in her cheeks. She must have been exhausted, and yet she had taken the time to care for me. I slipped my arms beneath her, then stood, ignoring the way the action pulled against my chest and made the lash marks reopen and bleed.

  I set her gently on the couch and tucked the blankets around her. It felt right to have the blankets that had kept me warm settled across her. I didn’t want to leave her, but I couldn’t risk Jake awakening to find me gone. I stopped near the door and studied her sleeping form. I could still feel the gentleness of her fingers along my chest. I put a hand to it, aware of the bandages that sat beneath my shirt.

  “What am I going to do with you, Alana?” I whispered out loud.

  She merely smiled in her sleep and rolled to her other side. An answering smile spread across my face and I hurried up the stairs.

  Chapter Eight

  “The green light will guide you home.”

  I stood near Jake’s car. I didn’t want to go to the house in the distance. I hated doing it for him when he had lied to me. I pulled the satchel tighter across my chest. The strap slid across the healing wounds Alana had bandaged a week ag
o. Her feet were healing as well. My only comfort from what I did was that I had saved her from her horrible life, although the one I had given her wasn’t that much better.

  Jake must have seen something in my expression. His eyes narrowed. “Go, Saro. We have another house to hit in two days. You’ve got to make up for the safe you failed to crack at the last house.”

  I nodded because he expected me to. I started up the street. Jake sat for longer than he usually did, probably making sure I actually went to the house. When I disappeared through the shrubs that lined the backyard, I heard the sound of pavement on tires and listened to him drive away.

  I tripped the alarm at the house. It was an accident. I was usually able to enter the code in time, but either Jake’s numbers were wrong or my mind wasn’t in it. A few seconds later, a wailing siren emanated from the alarm panel.

  I covered my ears. I had a few options. I could still attempt to crack the safe before the police arrived, but it was a newer model and would require drilling, something I definitely wouldn’t have time for. I could set the house on fire and tell Jake there was a problem with the safe. I could give up and wait for the police to arrive; they could do whatever they wanted with me.

  I wandered through the kitchen to the hallway with my hands over my ears. It was lined with pictures. Two curly-haired little boys stood on a big dog in one. In the next, a young girl sat on a swing with a huge smile on her face. All three kids played in a small swimming pool filled with bubbles in the yard. The next showed the mother and father holding hands.

  I turned away. The Molotovs shifted in the satchel, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t destroy another home just to appease Jake’s greed for money. It didn’t improve his lifestyle, and he merely became more demanding, finding more houses to hit despite his reassurances that the fees at the Academy were covered. There wasn’t an Academy anyway. Everything he had told me was a lie.

  I stepped outside in time to hear the police cars pull up. I shrugged out of my jacket.

  “Stop!”

  Ice ran through my veins.

  “Drop what you’re holding!”

  I wasn’t sure dropping the bag of Molotovs would be smart. The police officer advanced from the side of the house. “Put the bag on the ground and step away.”

  Jake would kill me for leaving such evidence behind. I glanced back to see the officer raise his gun. My shoulder throbbed in an angry reminder that I didn’t want to be shot again. I set the bag on the sidewalk.

  “The coat, too,” the officer demanded.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Do it!” he shouted.

  I tossed the coat down.

  “Kids your age should know better than to break into houses,” the officer said, advancing. “Put your hands over your head and kneel on the ground.”

  Alana’s brown eyes flashed in my mind. I needed to be free so I could help her. I had promised her she was safe. I had to keep my promise. I took a step back.

  The officer shook his head. “Don’t run. It’ll only be worse for you. You didn’t get away with anything, so you’ll get off light if you go in with me now.”

  He took another step forward and I mirrored it with another back.

  He lifted a hand. “Son, you don’t want to do this. I’ve got a boy your age and I know how easy it is to make stupid decisions that you regret. The best thing to do is to come with me so we can get this taken care of.”

  “It’s not that easy,” I told him. I was surprised I had spoken at all, but there was a look on his face like he really wanted to help me. I didn’t know how to tell him that nobody could help me anymore.

  “It is that easy,” he replied. He lowered his gun. “Just come in and I promise you it won’t be as bad as you’re thinking.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  He sounded like he really cared. He was a stranger. Why should he care at all?

  “I’ve got someone I have to take care of.”

  He motioned toward the house. “This isn’t the way to do it.”

  I nodded. “I realize that now.”

  “Then come in. I’ll make sure whoever you’re caring for is alright.” The compassion in his voice ate at me.

  Commotion sounded from the front of the house as another police car pulled up. I glanced in that direction.

  “Don’t worry about them,” the officer reassured me. His nametag read K. Donaldson. He gave a patient smile. “What do you say? Care to make this easy on an old man?” He ran a hand through grizzled gray hair in emphasis.

  “I wish I could,” I replied. I was shocked to find that I really meant it. “But like I said, it’s more complicated than that.”

  “How—” Officer Donaldson’s words were cut off when I lifted my wings. He took a step back, and his gaze searched mine. He raised his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Okay. No big deal.”

  The sound of footsteps came from around the house. I needed to grab the satchel. Jake would kill me if I left it. I reached for it just as two more officers appeared around the corner.

  In hindsight, I realized it must have looked like I was attacking Officer Donaldson when I leaned toward him. A shot rang out. A searing pain tore along the side of my head as the bullet missed my eye by inches. I stumbled back.

  “Don’t shoot!” Officer Donaldson yelled. “He’s not armed!”

  I shoved my wings down and rose into the air, blinded by the pain in my skull.

  “Wait,” the officer called.

  I flew higher until I could no longer make out the individual forms on the ground in the darkness. I had left my bag and my coat. Jake was going to kill me. But I had to go back; I had to get Alana out of there. Where would we go?

  My head pounded too hard to think. I put a hand to my hairline. It came away wet with blood. I had almost died. I soared in a circle searching for the green blinking light. Straining my eyes made my head hurt even more. I finally found it and dove, unable to focus to fly any longer.

  Instincts made me pull up just before I slammed into the car. I fell to a heap on the ground near the back tire.

  “What happened?” Jake demanded.

  “The alarm went off,” I mumbled.

  He shoved me with his foot, rolling me over. His face was red with anger. When he leaned down, I could smell alcohol on his breath. “Where’s the bag?” he shouted.

  “Officer Donaldson took it,” I replied. The glare of the streetlight overhead knifed into my eyes like daggers. I shielded my face with my arm.

  Jake kicked my arm away. “You robbed the safe and left it?”

  I shook my head. The feeling of gravel beneath my skull grated uncomfortably. “I couldn’t get to the safe. The numbers were wrong.”

  “The numbers were right,” Jake growled. “You did this on purpose.”

  Lights exploded in my brain when his fist connected with my cheekbone. I tried to put my arms up to protect myself, but my limbs responded sluggishly.

  “Not on purpose,” I forced out. “I tried.”

  “You failed,” Jake said, punching me again. “You’re worthless, you know that? You’ve never amounted to more than a headache.”

  I wanted to point out that at that moment he was the one causing the headache, but I couldn’t clear my mind enough to speak.

  “Why come back?” he demanded. “Why not let them arrest you and take you back to the Academy where worthless scum like you belong?”

  That brought a line of clarity to my thinking. “The Academy is shut down.” I replied. “You lied.”

  Hatred twisted his face. “You finally figured it out, genius. Congratulations.” He kicked me in the ribs and I felt them give. “Then why come back? Do you enjoy this, you useless animal?”

  “Alana.” The name came out of my muddled mind before I could stop it.

  Jake froze with his fist raised over his head. “Alana?” I didn’t know how he could destroy her beautiful name, but it came off sounding flat and ugly. I
hated that he said it. “Who’s Alana?”

  I shook my head. He drove a haymaker into my jaw. Blood filled my mouth. I tried to shake him off, but I could barely think, let alone get my body to do what I asked of it. The bullet gash had probably given me a concussion, the unemotional side of my mind noted. I appreciated the medical updates as Jake battered me with punches and kicks.

  “She’s in the basement,” I finally replied. Tears trailed down my bloody face. I couldn’t hold the truth in any longer. He was going to kill me, and I didn’t care. What I cared about was telling him the truth about her. I had promised to protect her. I had failed. I blacked out to the feeling of hands dragging me into the car. My head hit the window, and it was the last thing I remembered.

  Chapter Nine

  “I told you he’d come to.”

  Jake’s voice pierced the black depths of unconsciousness. I was sitting up with my chin resting on my chest. I tried to move my hands, but they were tied behind me. I rocked my head to one side and squinted in the light of a single bulb.

  We were in the basement. The fact made my heart begin to race. I looked in the direction of the couch. Alana sat there with her arms and legs tied. Terror showed on her face.

  “Alana,” I croaked.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but Jake cut her off.

  “Yes, Alana,” he responded. “Who would have thought you’d be hiding a Galdoni in the basement? And not just any Galdoni, a female Galdoni?” He chortled, a gross, gut-twisting sound. “Do you know how much money I can make off of her?”

  “You better not touch a hair on her head,” I growled.

  His eyebrows lifted. “Well, now. Look who’s suddenly motivated?” He looked at Alana. “I told you he’d do it.”

  Trepidation filled my aching chest. It hurt whenever I breathed. The beating Jake had given me had definitely cracked a few ribs. The light overhead pierced my eyes like daggers. I could barely keep them open with the pain in my head. I forced myself to focus. “Do what?”

  Jake rubbed his hands together. “You’ve been a bit, shall we say, reluctant to rob the safes as of late.”