by Aaron Hodges
Another of the men laughed. “You heard the doctor – they’re experiments,” the man stepped closer to the cage as he spoke, and raising his riffle, slammed the butt into the mesh.
The wire of Liz’s cage rattled with the impact, and Liz glanced up, her eyes widening. The guard laughed again as her wings lifted slightly from the ground. He turned back to the other two. “Look pretty real to me!”
The others stepped closer, peering through the wires at the dark feathers filling the cage. The cages were only ten feet wide, while at their full extend Liz’s wings spread more than twenty, leaving them pressed up against the wire. Chris could hardly blame the men for their curiosity, though it made him sick to his stomach, to see Liz treated like a caged animal.
“You think she can actually fly?” another of the guards muttered.
“Of course she can fly,” the first replied “You think these people are stupid or something? Why would they give her wings if she couldn’t use em?”
“Piss off,” Liz snapped suddenly. Crouched on the ground, she retreated to the back of the cage.
Outside, the guards looked at each other and then burst into laughter.
“Feisty, isn’t she?” the first guard grinned as he leaned against the wire. “What’s your name again, pretty girl? Elizabeth, wasn’t it?
Liz pursed her lips and looked away.
“Leave her alone,” Chris growled from his cage, but the men ignored him.
“Let’s take a closer look, shall we boys?” the man who appeared to be the ring leader suggested.
The others paused at that, sharing a glance. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, James. The doctor seemed pretty keen on keeping them where they were.”
James only laughed. “Who’s going to know? Look at her, she’s tiny! And her hands are cuffed behind her back. You think we can’t take her?”
The second guard fell silent, as the third shrugged. “Can’t hurt. You heard the doctor. He’s gonna put her down when he gets back anyway. Give us something to tell the boys at the pub about, at least.”
That was enough for the first guard. He reached down and removed a set of keys from his belt and turned back to Liz’s cage. Heart thudding in his chest, Chris scrambled to get his legs beneath him, and finally managed to haul himself to his feet. Stumbling forward, he threw himself against the wire to catch the men’s attention. His wings stretched out, slamming against the steel.
The men paused and turned to stare at him.
“Leave her alone,” Chris growled. “If you touch her, I swear I’ll kill you all.”
The men glanced at one another, momentarily frozen by the ferocity of Chris’s gaze. Then the man called James grinned, glancing down the row of cages. “What do you know, they’ve all got wings, boys,” turning his back on Chris he stepped up to the door of Liz’s cage, “This one’s still the prettiest though.”
Chris swore and threw himself against the wire again, but the men ignored him now. Inside her cage, Liz crouched on the ground, still struggling to find her feet. Gritting his teeth, Chris strained against his cuffs, ignoring the agony that lanced down his arm. The cold steel sliced into his skin, but did not give. With his arms locked behind his back, he could not exert enough force to break them.
He watched on, helpless, as James unlocked Liz’s cage. The other two stood back, as the door swung open, their rifles trained on Liz. Rage flashed in her eyes as she gathered herself, obviously ready to launch herself at the men, guns or no.
James paused in the doorway, studying her closely. Smiling, he raised his hand and pointed at Chris. “I wouldn’t, my dear. Alex, Oliver, shoot the boy if she tries anything.”
Inside her cage, Liz’s shoulders slumped. James laughed again and stepped into the cage, ignoring the string of curses Chris hurled in his direction. Reaching down, he grabbed a fistful of Liz’s hair and dragged her to her feet. Her screams echoed through the room as he hauled her from the cage. Her wings cracked the air, slamming into the wire mesh, but with her hands pinned behind her back, she had no means to defend herself.
Chris stared, helpless, as the guard shoved Liz into the middle of the room. She stumbled forward, a gasp tearing from her throat as he released her. Eyes wide, she spun, her wings fanning out to fill the room. Her skin had paled, the dark bruise on her forehead standing out in stark relief. Rage shone from her eyes as she faced the ring of men.
A low growl rattled from her throat as one of the men reached out and grabbed a handful of her feathers. She spun towards him as he tore a fistful of black feather loose. He held them up in triumph. “They’re real boys!” he laughed as he looked at Liz. “You don’t mind if I take a souvenir? Don’t think you’ll be needing them, where the doctor is taking you.”
Liz stalked towards him, but James stepped in quickly behind her. Before Liz could turn, he slammed the butt of his rifle into the back of Liz’s head. She staggered at the blow, losing her balance and crashing to the floor in the tangle of feathers. Without her arms, she could do nothing to break her fall. Before she could recover, James drove his boot into the small of her back, pinning her to the concrete.
Grinning, he looked at the others. “Who’s first?”
26
Sam stood silently in the shadows of the stage, looking out over the crowd that had gathered beyond the podium. They stood in silence, staring up at the figures on the stage, waiting for the announcement. The press stood at the front, their cameras pointed up at them, red lights flashing as they prepared to broadcast to the nation.
Swallowing, Sam glanced at Paul and Francesca. They stood to either side of him, their faces tight with fear, their eyes lingering on the man standing beside Halt. A dozen black-suited bodyguards ringed the two men, their hard eyes scanning the crowd. They were clearly taking no chances.
Not with the life of the President of the Western Allied States.
Whispers spread through the crowd as the President squared his shoulders and stepped into view. Striding across to the podium, he looked out over the gathered faces. He moved with a regal grace, with the air of a man used to power. Not surprising, after the long decades he had served as President.
Gently placing one hand on the smooth mahogany of the podium, he waved to the crowd. The whispers died to sudden silence, as every person present looked up with expectation. Even the sharp clicking of cameras died away. It had been a long time since the President had spoken in such a public setting. Usually he spoke from his office, or to private press conferences. Now the whole nation was waiting with baited breath to see what he had to say.
“My fellow citizens of the Western Allied States,” he began, his smooth voice carrying out over the crowd. “Thank you for joining me here today. I know recent times have been hard. I appreciate your courage today, to stand with me here and defy the threats of local terrorists and foreign states against our proud nation.”
He fell silent, his eyes sweeping the crowd, as though he were speaking to each and every one of them. “But I have come here today to tell you the dark days are numbered, that a solution is at hand.”
Whispers spread through the crowd as heads turned to one another. Then the President spread his hands, and silence fell once more. On the stage, Halt stepped from the shadows and approached the podium.
“My people have been working on a solution to combat the menace of the Chead,” the President continued. “Though our enemies abroad would see us fall to the chaos they have seeded, their efforts will only make us stronger. The terror they seek to spread will only unite us in our effort to defeat them. And now we have an answer to their monstrosities, a beacon of hope to light our way.”
He paused, letting his words sink in, the anticipation build. Then he continued. “Our scientists have taken inspiration from the evil of the Chead. They have studied their physiology, identified their weaknesses, and developed a response.”
Sam let out a long breath. That was their cue. He glanced at the others, hesitating on the brink. It was
not too late to turn back, to flee the stage and deny Halt and the President their victory. But even as he tensed, an image of Ashley flashed across his vision, of her strapped to the bed, and Halt standing over her.
The fight fled him, and he hesitated no longer.
The crowd stilled as Sam stepped into the light. He could sense Paul and Francesca at his shoulders, but he kept his eyes fixed on Halt, on the triumphant grin on the doctor’s face. His heart sank, but there was no going back. Slowly, he strode to the front of the stage, and looked out over the mass of humanity gathered for their presentation.
They were on Fisherman’s Wharf, gathered around a makeshift stage at Pier 39. The crowd stretched out along the waterfront in either direction, as far as the eye could see. A stillness came over them as they looked up at the three teenagers standing alongside the President, their foreheads creasing in sudden confusion.
The President raised a hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the future.”
At the President’s words, Sam closed his eyes and bowed his head.
Forgive me.
With a sharp crack, his wings snapped open, and the great expanse of copper feathers spread to fill the stage. Behind him he heard the whisper of feathers as the others followed suit. Opening his eyes, he looked out again at the crowd.
A thousand faces stared up at him. Mouths hung open and eyes bulged at the impossibility of what they were witnessing. Not a soul moved. Not a voice spoke. The silence was absolute, stretching over the crowded streets like a blanket.
Then the whispers began, quietly at first, then in a rush, as though a dam had been broken. As one, the reporters began to shout questions. Cameras flashed and the crowd jostled forward, desperate for a closer look.
On the stage, Sam bowed his head, struggling to hold back tears. The collar pressed tighter around his throat, and shivering, he silently retracted his wings. Glancing at Halt, he saw the exaltation on the doctor’s face, as he basked in the triumph of the moment. He closed his eyes again, unable to face the shame welling up within him, the sense of helplessness.
What have I done?
27
“Liz!” Chris cried.
His chest constricted as he heard the others screaming from the neighbouring cages. He threw himself at the wire mesh, felt the cold steel cutting into his face, and stumbled sideways. His wings beat the air, keeping him upright, tearing at his steel confines, desperate to escape. But nothing he did made a difference. Heart racing in his chest, he watched the nightmare unfolding outside his cage.
Liz lay pinned beneath the guard’s boot, her hands still cuffed behind her back, her wings beating weakly against the cold concrete. She kicked out with her feet, but the other guards stood out of range and only laughed. Then one drew back his boot and drove it into her side. The blow folded Liz in two as the breath was driven from her lungs.
In his cage, Chris cursed the men, threatening bloody murder, but they continued to ignore him, intent on their victim. On the ground, Liz shrieked as James crouched over her and grabbed a handful of her hair. Jerking back her head, he forced her to look at him.
“You be good now, Elizabeth,” he sat back on his haunches and nodded at the cages, “or an accident’s going to happen to one of your buddies there.”
Liz only growled and strained against her cuffs. Her wings swung out, catching James in the ribs toppling him to the floor. He cursed as he landed on his backside. Cursing, another of the guards stepped forward and stamped on Liz’s wing. Liz arched her back as he ground her feathers into the concrete, a silent scream tearing from her throat.
Regaining his feet, James dusted himself off and scowled down at Liz. He drove his boot into Liz’s side again, smiling with satisfaction as Liz gasped into the concrete.
“Please,” Liz’s voice quivered. “Just leave us alone!”
The grin on James’s face grew as he crouched beside her again, but Chris felt a touch of premonition at Liz’s words. He frowned, leaning against the wire, peering out at the tangle of bodies. Liz lay stiff against the concrete, her wings retracted protectively against her back now. She did not move as James reached out and stroked the black feathers, speaking softly. “Just be a good girl, and we’ll put you back in one piece.”
The hackles stood on Chris’s neck as the guard brushed the hair from Liz’s face. A scream built in his throat, a desperate cry of anger, or untold rage. He strained against the cuffs, the steel cutting into his wrists. Pain streaked from his bullet wound, but he didn’t care, hardly noticed.
In the centre of the room, Liz had gone deathly still. Smiling, the guard bent down, reaching for her…
As his hands brushed across her skin, a blood curdling scream filled the room, so loud it sent Chris staggering backwards. It went on and on, tearing at his ear drums. Unable to cover his ears, Chris sank to his knees, and watched as the men went reeling.
As quickly as it had begun, the scream cut off. The guards blinked, and James cursed as he stepped towards Liz. Before he could reach her, a sound like nails on a chalkboard rent the air, followed by the sound of steel chains striking concrete.
A feral growl rose from where Liz lay huddled on the ground. A shudder went through her feathers, her black wings stretching out to cover her. Then Liz was crouched on all fours, her hands suddenly free, her black hair pasted across her face. Her eyes flashed in the glow of the overhead lights, falling on the three guards standing over her, tainted by some indescribable hatred.
Chris staggered back from the wire of his cage. The breath caught in his throat and he struggled to breathe, to comprehend what he was seeing. His stomach twisted and he shook his head, clenching his eyes closed.
But when he opened them again, nothing had changed.
Liz still crouched on the ground, her lips drawn back in a snarl, her wings tensed behind her. And her eyes… gone was the crystal blue he knew so well.
In their place was the cold grey eyes of the Chead.
The guards stumbled backwards, their mouths wide, fumbling for their weapons. Before they could so much as scream, Liz sprang.
The first man collapsed as Liz collided with his chest and bore him to the ground. He managed half a shriek before Liz’s fingers flashed out and caught him in the throat. Blood sprayed the air, cutting off his screams, as a low gurgling started in his chest. He gaped, eyes wide as blood filled his lungs. Laughing, Liz leapt at her next victim.
The second guard almost managed to raise his rifle before Liz was on him. Tearing the weapon from his terrified hands, she hurled it aside and reached out to catch him by the neck. His mouth widened, but he could not even scream as she slammed him backwards into the wall. A sickening crunch came from his skull, and his eyes rolled up into the back of his skull.
Tossing the man aside, Liz stepped over the lifeless body, her grey eyes tracking James as he stumbled across the room. He screamed, fumbling for his rifle, but she was already on him. He staggered backwards as she stripped it from his hands, until his back pressed up against Chris’s cage.
“No, please, no, don’t!” he shrieked the last word as Liz charged.
He raised his arms to protect himself, but Liz’s hands flashed out to catch him by both wrists. With a sickening wrench, she tore her arms apart.
Chris blanked and forced himself to look away. But he could not block out the sounds of rending flesh and breaking bones. His stomach churned as James screamed and started to beg. Another thud came, followed by another scream, and wild laughter filled the room.
When the guard finally fell silent, Chris could hardly bring himself to look. Sucking in a breath, he turned to face the slaughter.
Liz stood outside his cage, her clothes covered with blood, even the black feathers of her outstretched wings stained by it. Her shoulders rose and fell in a rhythmic fashion, as her cold grey eyes studied him. Her lips drew back in a snarl as he moved, and slowly she reached out a hand to the wire. Gripping it between her fingers, she began to squeeze.
&nb
sp; Chris swallowed as the steel wires bent before her strength. He retreated backwards until his back pressed against the rear of the cage. Fear wrapped its way around his stomach as he stared at Liz, searching for the girl he loved, begging for this all to be a nightmare.
But there was no sign of blue in Liz’s eyes, and snarling she threw herself at the wire. The steel rattled and bent beneath the impact, but did not give. Chris strained against his handcuffs, as the others screamed at him from the other cages. Blood pounded in his ears, muffling their words, but it didn’t matter. The handcuffs refused to give.
He looked up at Liz as she attacked the wire again. He recognised the madness in her eyes. It was more than just the cold grey of the Chead. In the facility, Chris had proven he could match the Chead’s strength. But he could still remember the fury that had come over the Chead at the end of their fight. And with that fury came a renewed strength, a fresh power that had left Chris begging for mercy.
He saw that rage in Liz’s eyes now. She would tear him limb from limb.
Unless he could reach her.
“Liz,” he breathed. Summoning his courage, he stepped towards her. “Liz, please, it’s me, Chris. Please, come back to me.”
He flinched as Liz roared and threw herself at the wall of the cage. His heart pounded hard against his ribs as the steel poles supporting the corners of the cage bent beneath the force of the impact.
“Liz, stop!” Chris screamed as she attacked again.
But his words fell on deaf ears, and he retreated to the corner, watching as the poles slowly bent towards him. He glimpsed the others standing in the nearby cages, watching now in terrified silence, desperate not to draw Liz’s attention.
Despair rising in his chest, Chris slumped to the floor. He couldn’t stand to lose Liz, not like this, not now. She alone had drawn him back from the brink, from the gulf of despair into which he had fallen. If he lost Liz too, he didn’t know how he would go on.
