Song of the Ovulum

by Bryan Davis

  “I still hear a tune,” Lauren said softly. “I think she’s humming.”

  Matt lifted one of the straps. “Look. It’s loose.”

  “Loose?” Lauren picked up the strap’s dangling end. “That’s strange. It’s wrapped around her wrist, but it isn’t fastened. Why would they do that?”

  Matt leaned close and whispered, “Mrs. Bannister?”

  Her eyes moved under her lids, but she didn’t respond.

  Lauren stepped over to the IV and read the bag. “It’s a sedative. If we’re going to wake her up, we’ll have to pull the needle.”

  “Do you know how to do that?”

  “My mother’s a cancer patient. I’ve seen her nurse do it plenty of times.” Lauren peeled tape away from Mrs. Bannister’s hand, pulled out the catheter while pressing gauze on the insertion site, and let the tube dangle from the IV pole.

  “Any experience with how long it takes to wake up from something like this?”

  Lauren offered a light shrug. “Not really. Maybe shake her once in a while?”

  “I don’t think we can wait very long. I’ll have to carry her.”

  “Carry her?” Lauren scanned his body from top to bottom. “Okay. I guess you probably can.”

  Warmth again flooded his cheeks. “You’re … uh … more straightforward than most, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “It gets me into trouble sometimes. It was a compliment. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind. It’s probably better to be direct.” He let his gaze wander around the room, finally halting at a laptop computer on a table that abutted the right-hand wall. “Before we go, I need to search their database.” He strode toward the table, keeping a wary eye on the door.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Remember when I asked if you had parents? This is why.” He flipped open the laptop and turned it on. “I’m looking for a female anthrozil. She’s your age, but she’s probably listed as an orphan. Apparently your kidnappers think you’re that anthrozil.”

  “Well, I was an orphan, but I’ve been adopted.”

  He turned toward her. “Then could you be—”

  “No.” Lauren’s response was as firm as the shake of her head. “My birth parents died in a car accident when I was a baby. I have at least a hundred pics of me with them. They were normal humans—no wings, no fire breathing.”

  “Digital pics?”

  “Yes.” She folded her arms over her chest. “What are you saying? That my past has been digitally manufactured?”

  “I was wondering if I could see them online.” Matt turned back to the computer. He had told the truth, just not the whole truth. If he could get Internet access here, maybe he could tell if the photos had been altered. Obviously exploring that possibility openly would ruffle Lauren’s feathers. He had to be discrete. “I was just curious.”

  “They’re online, but they’re password-protected. If you get Internet, I’ll show you how to see them.”

  “Sounds good.” Matt tilted the screen. The system seemed to be making unsuccessful attempts to access a network, extending the boot-up process. The Internet probably wouldn’t be available.

  “While you’re doing that,” Lauren said, “I’ll unhitch Mrs. Bannister from the electrodes and get her dressed. I saw a pile of clothes on the next bed.”

  “Good idea.” After giving up its network-connection attempts, the computer displayed a message asking him to place his ID close to the flashing LED at the top of the screen’s frame. After he complied, a menu appeared. He chose option number one, a prisoner database.

  “She has holes for her wings in her T-shirt and her sweatshirt,” Lauren said from behind him. “This could get tricky.”

  “Do the best you can. If you need help, let me know.”

  “When she wakes up, are you going to tell her who you are?”

  “Not yet. I want solid proof first. No sense getting her hopes up if I’m not really her son.”

  “That’s true.” Lauren sighed. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, too.”

  For the next few minutes, Matt alternated between searching for records of any teenagers and for any signs of danger. With the power out, the laptop was running on battery, and the meter indicated that only ten percent of the charge remained.

  Three records came up for nineteen-year-olds—two incarcerated for drug offenses and one for armed robbery. He examined each photo. Since one was black, and two were Hispanic, they couldn’t be Karen Bannister. The data produced no one else under the age of twenty.

  As he listened to Lauren working behind him, he imagined her photo on the screen. If they claimed her as a prisoner here, why didn’t she come up in the search?

  “Okay,” Lauren said, “I think she’s ready.”

  Matt turned. Her wings splayed neatly behind her, Mrs. Bannister lay on the bed dressed in jeans and a white sweatshirt. “Good job.”

  “Now to get her out of here.” Lauren grasped her wrist. “You get the other side, and I’ll help you lift her into your arms.”

  “Wait.” Matt nodded at the computer. “Since you’re a prisoner here, why aren’t you in the database?”

  “I told you I was kidnapped. I never was an official prisoner. If they entered me, it probably hasn’t updated this computer yet.”

  “Yeah. I could tell it couldn’t connect to the network. It must have been reading its own drive.” Matt studied Lauren’s face. She certainly resembled Mrs. Bannister. Maybe he had found Karen after all, but now wasn’t the time to probe that topic any further. “Okay. Let’s get her out of here.”

  “Ah! There you are, Lauren!” A woman wearing a camouflage uniform approached from the door, gliding effortlessly, as if rolling on wheels. “You are quite the elusive one. It seems that we will have to handcuff you to something after all.”

  Matt glanced at his holster. With auburn hair and angular features, this woman could pass for an adult version of Darcy. Although the resemblance raised a chill, no twinge of danger joined the sensation, so it didn’t make sense to pull his gun. Since her stripes indicated that she was a Major, maybe he could play the role of prison guard and get some information. “I apologize, Major … um … I don’t see a name tag.”

  “Semiramis.” She nodded toward Lauren. “I have been looking for this escaped prisoner. Where did you find her?”

  Matt cleared his throat and straightened his prison-issue jacket. “I found her here. Because of the fire, I was checking all the rooms. When you came in, I was looking her up to see where she belongs.”

  “Excellent work, but there is no need to search for her cell number. I know where she belongs. If you will follow me, I will show you to her cell.”

  Matt nodded toward Mrs. Bannister. “Why is this anthrozil here? Everyone is supposed to be outside.”

  “The evacuation was merely a precaution. The fire is under control.” Semiramis’s voice was so smooth, it seemed almost haunting. “Since this patient has undergone some exhausting procedures, she is safer here than she would be outside.”

  “How did you get in without making a sound? I didn’t hear a buzz.”

  “A buzz?” Semiramis looked at the door. “I simply opened it. It seems that the security system for this room is no longer operating. Perhaps the fire has something to do with it.”

  “Well, I guess that answers my questions, but there’s no need for you to lead me. Just tell me her cell number, and I’ll take her there.”

  Semiramis squinted. “Aren’t you a bit young for a prison guard?”

  Matt glanced at Lauren. If she really was a mind reader, maybe she could hear his call for help. “Well …”

  Lauren stepped out from behind him. “That’s what I thought when he burst in here and barked orders like a know-it-all rookie—he’s just a kid. But when he flashed his badge and gun, I kept my mouth shut. Who am I to argue with those?”

  Semiramis leaned closer to Lauren. “Where
did you get that sweatshirt? I thought you were wearing a …” Her gaze shifted to Matt. “A prison guard’s jacket.” As her eyes narrowed further, a knowing smile emerged. “I see.”

  Matt swallowed hard. The ruse had ended. He drew his gun and pointed it at her. “If you’ll just let us leave with this woman, no one will get hurt.”

  “You’ve watched too many television dramas.” She turned and walked toward the door. “Stay here, or else you will be the one who gets hurt.” When she reached the door, she walked right through it and disappeared.

  Matt staggered backwards. “Did you see …” His mouth froze.

  “Yeah. She’s some kind of ghost.”

  “You say that like you’ve seen a hundred of them.”

  “Just her and the winged guy. That’s enough to make me believe just about anything.”

  Matt laid the gun and penlight in her hand. “Let’s get out of here.” He rushed to the bed, slid his hands under Mrs. Bannister, and hoisted her into his arms. Her wings crumpled a bit, making her wince, but it couldn’t be helped. There seemed to be no way to carry her without bending the huge leather canopies.

  Grunting as he walked, he spoke through clenched teeth. “Get the door for me.”

  Lauren leaped in front and pushed it open. As soon as he stepped into the hall, he broke into a jog. “Let’s go!”

  Leading the way with the penlight, Lauren ran ahead, but after a few seconds, the ceiling lights flickered on.

  “Not a good sign,” she said.

  “Just keep moving.” Matt glanced at Mrs. Bannister. She blinked at the bright lights, then stared at him.

  “Who are you?” she asked groggily.

  “A friend of Walter’s. I’m trying to get you out of here.”

  “Walter’s?” She squirmed. “I think I can walk if you’ll let me—”

  “No! We have to hurry! Just let me carry you.”

  She settled down and watched quietly, her eyes darting back and forth.

  After retracing their steps, they arrived at the entry door. Lauren burst through and held it open while Matt carried Mrs. Bannister outside. Searchlights swept across the prison yard between them and the fence.

  Matt paused at the edge of the yard. “They’ll spot us for sure.”

  “And they have guns,” Lauren added. “Do you feel any danger?”

  “Just a general feeling. Nothing sharp. Let’s wait just a minute. Maybe the lights will move.”

  “Will you put me down now, please?” Mrs. Bannister asked.

  “Sure.” He tilted her body and let her shoes touch the sidewalk. As he shifted more weight, he kept her steady until she could stand on her own. “There you go.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered but said nothing. She still seemed somewhat dazed.

  Matt dug the knife out of his pocket, stripped off the jacket, and sliced two holes in the back. “We’ll help you put this on.”

  While Mrs. Bannister pushed her arms through the sleeves, Lauren and Matt guided her wings through the holes. By the time they finished, Mrs. Bannister’s eyes looked sharp and clear. “I can carry one of you out of here,” she said, “but not both.”

  Matt and Lauren pointed at each other.

  “Take her.”

  “Take him.”

  Bonnie gave them a weak smile. “No time to argue. I’ll take the girl.”

  “Good.” Matt pushed the knife into Bonnie’s jacket pocket. “You might have to cut holes in something else.”

  As Bonnie wrapped her arms around Lauren from behind, Lauren handed the gun to Matt, then blew him a kiss. “Thank you. After we find Walter, we’ll come back for you.”

  “When I get airborne,” Mrs. Bannister said, “you can show me the way.” She stretched out her wings, gave them a powerful beat, and leaped into the air. She flew in a haphazard circle for a moment before straightening and zooming upward.

  The searchlights followed her. Men shouted in the distance. A gunshot sounded, then another, but no one cried out, and no one fell.

  Matt pumped a fist. Yes! They got away! He sprinted toward the fence. With the searchlights preoccupied, this might be his only chance.

  When he reached the severed links, he dropped to all fours, pushed the flap, and crawled.

  “Halt!” someone shouted.

  Matt scrambled faster. Just two seconds and he would be through. Another gunshot rang out. Sharp pain sliced through his arm, making him fall flat in the dirt. Blood streamed down to his wrist. Something grabbed his ankle and dragged him backwards. As he clawed with one hand, he shoved the gun into its holster with the other.

  “Don’t fight me, kid,” a man growled. “You can’t get away.”

  Matt let himself go limp. Someone rolled him over and flashed a bright light in his face, blinding him.

  “What should we do with him?” a second man asked with a gentler voice.

  The light shifted away from Matt’s eyes, allowing him to see. Semiramis stood nearby, her arms folded as she posed in a cocky stance. “Get him up!”

  A huge guard grabbed Matt’s uninjured arm and pulled him to his feet. The momentum brought Matt close to the guard’s chest, eye to eye with his name tag—D. Hoskins. As the guard held him in place, a handgun brushed Matt’s hand, hot to the touch. “Where shall we take him?”

  “The lab. We have to bind his wound, and I want an immediate blood test.”

  A second guard, shorter and thinner, held a rifle in one hand and used the other to slide the gun from Matt’s holster, no longer hidden behind a jacket. Matt eyed the rifle’s muzzle. A line of smoke rose into the air. “Start walking, kid. If you cooperate, it’ll go easier for you.”

  “Easier than what? One of you already shot me.”

  “Cut the smart talk, or I’ll shoot you again.” The guard shoved the gun into his waistband and prodded Matt with the butt of his rifle. “Move.”

  With blood dripping from his fingers, Matt marched ahead. Through dizzied, blurred vision, he watched the movements around him as if played on an out-of-focus screen. The guard opened the same back door he and Lauren used earlier, and, with the rifle constantly jabbing his back, Matt staggered through the familiar corridors.

  When they arrived at the lab, the door buzzed. The guard swung it open. Inside, beds spun in a wild circle. After wobbling in place, he collapsed to the floor.

  Strong arms lifted him and rolled him onto one of the dancing beds. As the room continued to spin, Semiramis’s face appeared, the only stationary object in the room. “You are a brave one,” she said. “And if my suspicions are correct, we will soon learn where that courage comes from.”

  He couldn’t answer. Dizziness overtook his senses, forcing him to close his eyes. At least Lauren was safe, and so was Mrs. Bannister. He had succeeded in his mission. Walter would be proud, if he survived. The gunshots at the cliff might have been him shooting at the kidnapper, but if that were true, why did he pull the rope up? Why didn’t he shout and let them know what was going on, or at least whisper through the transmitter? Of course, he might have tried during those few minutes of hearing loss. Either way, something terrible must have happened, and maybe Lauren and Mrs. Bannister would have to face the danger next.

  A sharp prick jabbed his arm. Seconds later, his muscles relaxed. He couldn’t move at all. But he had to move. He had to get up and help them, because … because of something. What was it again?

  As the faces of his new friends entered his mind, a sense of comfort took over. Maybe Mrs. Bannister was his real mother, and maybe Lauren was his sister. Once Mrs. Bannister revived from the sedative, she took charge and flew right into the lights and gunfire. She was as cool as a cucumber. And was Lauren for real? What would it be like to have a smart, strong, no-nonsense girl for a twin sister? Obviously no one could be as evil as Darcy, but she was the only sibling he had ever had. Who could tell what kind of spirit lived behind Lauren’s glowing visage?

&
nbsp; The faces blurred. Thoughts fled away. And his mind fell into a swirling blackness.

  SILENCE IN THE WOODS

  Lauren held her breath. Dangling in darkness while getting shot at was bad enough, but having her ribs crushed by a winged woman’s powerful arms was even worse.

  “I think we’re out of range now,” Mrs. Bannister called. “Which way?”

  “Just go down.” Lauren squeezed out her words. “We’ll talk there.”

  As they descended, the pressure eased. Lauren took in a deep breath and looked below. Illuminated by moonlight, the tops of trees drew slowly nearer.

  “Get ready for a sudden drop,” Mrs. Bannister said. “We’re in sight of the ground. I don’t want anyone to see us.”

  After they plunged through a gap, Mrs. Bannister set Lauren down gently on a carpet of fallen leaves. With her wings still flapping gently, she laid a hand on her chest. “Whew! That’s the farthest I’ve flown in years. It’s a good thing I kept my wings in shape.”

  Lauren stared. Yes, it might be impolite, but who wouldn’t stare? This woman, fair of face and form, had dragon wings! Seeing them in the bed made them look like a movie costume prop, but witnessing them in flight made them … well … amazing!

  Smiling, Mrs. Bannister extended her hand. “I’m Bonnie Bannister. What’s your name?”

  “Lauren Hunt.” The two shook hands warmly.

  “And who was that young man?”

  “Matt Fletcher. I just met him in the prison, so I don’t know much about him.”

  “I remember him saying he’s Walter’s friend.” Mrs. Bannister pivoted, peering into the surrounding dark forest. “Speaking of Walter, where do you think he might be?”

  Holding the open handcuff, Lauren pointed to her left. “Matt and I tried to climb a cliff somewhere over there.”

  “Let’s go. You can tell me your story on the way.” Mrs. Bannister marched in that direction.