by Kevin George
Will these freaks do the same to me?
He turned to Sally, feeling slightly better at seeing no fear on her face. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips turned down. James couldn’t tell if she was angry or embarrassed or both. She held up a hand to the Aviaries, most of whom calmed.
“They saved my life,” she said. “They saved our lives.”
“Yeah,” James said, turning his attention to the radio, out of options for making it work but trying more buttons anyway. “I heard the guard’s screams, I heard their. . . sounds. I also heard a voice on the radio. Someone is out there, looking for us the way I’ve been looking for them.”
Sally stared at the radio and said nothing, not that James expected anything from her. Though the radio remained silent, he pressed the TRANSMIT button and tried to hail the frantic young man. He didn’t have time to finish his message when the Swarm erupted into more noises. James wanted to snap at them, but he didn’t like the way several grotesque forms shuffled toward him, their footsteps—if they even have feet, James thought—clicking against the floor. One of the Aviaries muttered the same sound over and over, and it took James a moment to recognize it as a word.
“Mountain. . . Mountain. . .”
The others began to repeat the word, some of their voices clear, some of them unintelligible, some high-pitched, but all of them filled with fear. They surged toward James and the radio, ignoring Sally’s pleas to calm down.
“Turn off the radio,” yelled someone among the Swarm, a deep, male voice easier to understand than the others. Based on the increased agitation his words caused the rest of the group, it was clear this voice belonged to the Swarm’s leader. “Turn it off now.”
“But there’s nobody answering,” Sally said.
A few Aviaries quieted until their leader stepped forward and pointed to the radio, repeating the word ‘Mountain,’ riling up those around him. The largest Aviary in the group pushed his way forward, knocking over several of his own kind, swatting Sally to the floor when she tried to get in his way. He was huge, closer to seven feet tall than six, wider than any human James had ever seen, not that he confused this monster with being human. His right leg was shorter than the other, but the massive hump behind his left shoulder appeared to balance him out. Clothing hung loosely off the Aviary’s body, clothing that didn’t seem to correctly fit any contour of his puffed chest or the rest of his misshapen body.
The floor shook beneath James, but he didn’t look at the Aviary’s curved, hard feet that defied the odds to keep him upright. It was the face and head of the Aviary that most disturbed James, a face with a curved nose that ended in a sharp point, eyes that were set too far apart, cheeks that were sunken and covered with tufts of feathers, all set upon a head that was long and narrow and appeared to come to point at the top. The Aviary’s eyes flitted from side to side, leaving James to wonder if the giant could focus on anything.
“Mountain. . . Mountain find us,” the giant Aviary muttered, his words surprisingly clear despite his voice being higher-pitched than any little girl James had ever heard. Still, there was no mistaking the panic of the giant, who turned abruptly to one side, knocking over several chairs and a table before changing directions suddenly, hobbling straight for James and the large radio system. “Mountain find us. . . Mountain make us fly. . . this time no Love to catch. . .”
Other Aviaries squawked and cried in what sounded vaguely like agreement. James was certain the giant’s words meant something, but he didn’t have time to figure them out. Imagining the giant coming to smash the radio, James leapt in his path without a single thought that the giant could smash him just as easily.
“There’s so much more in the world than just The Mountain,” James yelled, but that didn’t slow the Aviary’s approach.
James shoved him, surprised the giant’s body was soft and light beneath his ragged clothing. The giant was easily knocked aside, losing his balance as he crashed into another table away from the radio. He fluttered back to his feet and recoiled, causing the rest of the Swarm to recoil and squawk wildly at the sight of one of their own being—
Ripping sounds rippled within the Swarm. Though the Aviaries backed up at the sight of their giant being shoved, their collective cries of ‘no’ became deeper, more sinister. James looked at the group and watched a sudden change to several of their silhouettes. Had he not known Love and what his body was capable of doing, James never would’ve believed that several Swarmers could sprout wings.
Not that those wings were comparable to Love’s, whose wings stretched as wide as his body was tall and allowed him to fly with ease. The wings among these Aviaries were far less impressive, some of them stretching no wider than a foot wide, some of them drooping limply, some of them mismatched in size. Still, the Aviaries with wings flapped them wildly, a few of them shifting several inches off the floor, knocking over their brethren as they took aim for James and the radio.
“Everyone stop!” the leader called out.
The Swarm instantly calmed, the Aviaries who’d been fluttering now back on their curved feet, their grotesque wings retracting into their bodies. The crowd parted and the thwap of one strong flap filled the radio room, a single Aviary soaring with ease between the others, landing lightly in front of James. The Swarm’s leader featured none of the grotesque deformities of the others. With the exception of a slightly angular face and a few stray feathers among his locks of hair—not to mention blood-stained clothing and a set of wings every bit as impressive as Love’s—the leader appeared no different than any human James had ever met.
“Quinn. . . Quinn. . . everyone shhh!” the giant Aviary hissed.
The Aviary leader, Quinn, looked to the giant and nodded, slow and low, instantly quieting the giant, causing him to scurry back to the others. When Quinn turned his gaze onto his human guests, James and Sally felt momentarily entranced by his impressive physical stature, by the aura of respect and strength he exuded. He crossed his arms over his broad chest as his eyebrows lowered. James quickly snapped out of his reverie and pointed toward the brightest light on the board of buttons.
“That’s the. . . radio. I fixed it,” he blurted. “Nobody’s talking on the other end now, but there was somebody before, a young man, not from the Mountain. Whoever it was activated their GPS locator.”
A few chirping gasps arose from the Swarm. Quinn spun on them so suddenly that one of his wings clipped James, knocking him aside. The worried chirps turned to laughter, but that stopped the moment Quinn held up a hand. James hurried to his feet and saw the light of the GPS locator’s button flicker off. James shook his head and pushed the button over and over, growing more frantic with each press.
“No, it was just on,” he said. “They’re supposed to come here. . . they’re supposed to receive the coordinates. . .”
“Who’s supposed to come here?” Sally asked.
“The other arks,” James muttered. “That’s what the stories said. . .”
“Stories?” she asked.
Quinn grabbed James by the arm and spun him away from the radio. James closed his eyes and turned his head, expecting an attack. Quinn let go and smiled, but his eyes didn’t show a hint of joy.
“You must know Love,” he said.
James nodded. “He told me about this place, about how to find it, about all of you. Most of all, he told me about the radio equipment.”
Quinn took a step closer, looming tall over James, his wings spread as far as they could stretch, his feathers rippling.
“Then he also must’ve told you how we’re happy here, how we don’t want anything to change,” Quinn said. “We don’t want to be found by anyone.”
The giant Aviary continued looking side to side, muttering the word ‘Mountain’ over and over, the others joining in. The Swarm whipped itself into a frenzy of frightened caws and ruffled feathers. This time, Quinn did not calm them.
“We especially don’t want to be found by those in the Mountain, like the awful
man you led straight to us,” he added, causing an explosion of flapping.
“But that Mountain guard is dead,” Sally said. “All of you. . . what you did to him. . . he’ll never bother you again. And the other guard that was with him is dead, too.”
Quinn turned to Sally, staring into her eyes as if searching for something. She couldn’t look away from his gaze, watching as his eyes flitted just slightly from side to side. He may have been the most handsome. . . creature?. . . person?. . . man?. . . she’d ever seen, yet Sally couldn’t ignore how unsettled she felt in his presence, maybe more so than any other member of the Swarm.
Quinn reached a hand toward Sally’s face. She wanted to recoil but somehow knew it would be unwise to do so. With the back of his soft, feathered hand, he lightly touched the scarred remains of her burned cheek. Sally couldn’t tell if Quinn looked at her with fascination or disgust.
“You know Love well?” he asked.
“I only met him once,” she said hesitantly. “He saved my life.”
Quinn smiled. “That does not surprise me. You are certainly more like us than he is,” Quinn said, his eyes narrowing as he nodded toward James, who continued to watch the unlit radio light in agony.
“Love wanted me to bring her here,” James said.
“And you told him you’d be staying? That you’d be using the radio?” Quinn asked.
“Staying? No,” James said. “Love knows about my bigger plans out in the world. We should all strive for more once we make contact with—”
Before James could push another button, Quinn grabbed his arm and shoved him toward the Swarm. James knocked over several Aviaries and bounced off the giant, falling to the floor as the others surrounded him.
“Please, don’t hurt him,” Sally said.
“What do you think we are? Savages? You think we’re as bad as those monsters from The Mountain?” Quinn asked. He shook his head. “Take him out of here. He has bigger plans out in the world, so release him out of the building.”
“Send me out and I’m a dead man,” James said, remaining on the floor. “If you’re going to do that, you may as well kill me now and get it over with.”
“As your friend you brought from The Mountain can attest, your death can be arranged,” Quinn said.
“You know he wasn’t our friend,” Sally pled. “You saw him trying to hunt me down. . . trying to kill us both.”
Frail, feathered hands reached for James, some with stubby fingers, others with sharper appendages that resembled claws. The Aviaries squawked and lashed out, ripping at James’ clothing, their panicked cries of ‘no Mountain, no Mountain!’ growing louder as they encircled him.
“Please, you don’t understand,” James cried out. “I survived living in solitude for years. I spent that time studying everything there’s to know about the world and what might be out there. All of that was for this moment, this chance.”
James closed his eyes, expecting to be ripped to shreds, expecting to suffer the same fate as the Mountain guard. Instead, the hands and claws pulled him to his feet, shuffling him toward the door leading to the Comm Center hallway.
“Then your knowledge might keep you alive out there,” Quinn said.
James struggled in their grasp as he neared the door, his eyes finding Sally’s a split second before his gaze turned to the radio and tracking equipment. He begged to be released, but the Swarm pulled him out of the room, leaving Sally and Quinn alone. Sally shuffled to the side for a clearer view of the door, but Quinn stepped in front of her, smiling. His wings stretched wide and went rigid before he flexed his back a single time, pulling the wings back into his body.
Sensing Sally’s panic, Quinn reached out and took her hand, stroking it gently.
“He’s not one of us,” Quinn said.
“He won’t survive out there. . . the cold will kill him,” Sally said, surprised by how upset that made her. She tried to hurry around Quinn, but he took her arm, giving a quick squeeze to let her feel his power. “If you sentence him to die, you’ll have to do the same to me.”
Quinn smirked but allowed Sally to pull free and flee the room. She rushed after the Swarm, barely hearing James’ frightened pleas over the sound of squawking and hissing.
“He’s not one of us. . . he’s not one of us,” one of the Aviaries said over and over.
“There’s so much more out there for all of us to discover,” James called out. “I know what it’s like to feel afraid of the uncertain. . . I know what it’s like to be held back. My own people would’ve have kept me buried beneath the ground had I not shown the bravery to risk it all and leave. Please, I understand why all of you are afraid, but I’ve never had anything to do with The Mountain.”
The mere mention of that word caused another round of frightened cries. The giant Aviary squawked loudest of all, screeching the same four words over and over, whipping the others into a frenzy.
“Mountain made us fly. . . Mountain made us fly. . .”
Sally hurried to catch up but couldn’t push her way past the Swarm, which filled the entire width of the hallway, pushing and shoving one another as they approached the building’s lobby. Sunlight streamed in through the break in the blockade near the front doors.
“And who saved all of you?” James called out over their screams. “It was Love, Love saved each and every one of you.”
The mention of Love’s name calmed the Swarm, which collectively loosened their grip on James. The giant changed his panicked chant to repetitive whispering of Love’s name.
“Yes, Love,” James said, carefully climbing to his feet, showing his hands to the Swarm so they knew he meant to harm. “He told me all about the way he rescued each and every one of you. . . the way he caught all of you. Love was my friend, the way all of you are his friends. Do you think he’d want you to do this?”
James slowly backed up, bumping into the blockade, knocking over several pieces of stacked furniture. The resulting crash was followed by startled squawks. Several Aviaries rushed past Sally into the darkened hallway beyond. James apologized, continuing to assure those in the Swarm that he was their friend, that Love trusted him, that he would never do them harm.
“Friend. . . friend. . .” the giant said.
Others began to nod, their heads bobbing up and down. James started toward Sally when Quinn emerged from the hallway. His fellow Aviaries sensed his approach and stepped aside to let him through. Sally wanted to follow but the Swarm blocked her.
“If you and Love are such close friends, tell us, please, where is he?” Quinn asked.
“Off to find the Descendant, whose whereabouts he finally discovered,” James said, his announcement causing more chirping and flittering within the Swarm. “Love plans to fulfill his destiny and deliver the Descendant to those in The Mountain.”
“So you say,” Quinn said before the Aviaries could react to the word ‘Mountain.’ “Unless you hurt him. . . unless you are from The Mountain.” James shook his head, but the Swarm hissed and started forward again. “Consider yourself lucky we don’t kill you here and now.”
With a mighty flex of his back, Quinn’s wings emerged and propelled him forward. Landing softly beside James, Quinn flapped one more time, the force blowing aside a large section of barricade, pushing open the front door and clearing a path to the frigid outside world. He grabbed James by the arm and gave him a shove, enough to toss him into several feet of snow. Quinn followed him out, helping him to his feet only to push him farther away from the building. Sally nudged into the middle of the Swarm, at least those brave enough to step outside.
“Is this what Love would do to any of you?” Sally called out, stumbling through the snow until she stood between James and Quinn.
“Get out of the way now!” Quinn screamed, his voice suddenly high-pitched and shrill, his head jerking toward Sally as if he might peck at her. The few feathers adorning his face stuck straight out. Sally wondered how she’d ever thought he was handsome.
Th
e Swarm chirped nervously, several of them rushing back into the building. Sally saw fear on their faces and realized Quinn had probably taken his leadership role rather than earning it. Just as all hope seemed lost—as she started seriously considering if she’d follow James to certain death in the White Nothingness—a small form hobbled out from behind a few of the largest Aviaries.
Sally immediately thought about Tent City in The Fifth, about the countless orphans that lived there, the small children she’d tried to help as much as possible. Until this moment, she hadn’t thought of those kids or the way their lives would become harder now that she was gone. The little girl that approached was as small as any orphan Sally had known, though she looked nothing like any child of The Fifth. The little girl had wavy blond hair that stretched down beyond her back. Brightly colored feathers grew scattered among that hair, as if a beautiful rainbow flowed from the top of her head.
That was the end of her conventional beauty. One of her legs was stubbier than the other, and while several Aviaries suffered the same affliction, there was something sadder about the little girl tilting severely to one side. Every step she took required her to swing her longer leg in a circular motion. The rest of her tiny body appeared normal, but it was impossible to tell since she was covered in oversized rags. Strands of blond hair fell in front of her face but didn’t hide her sunken cheeks, sharp nose and oversized teeth.
Still, Sally found the little girl adorable and felt an instinct to rush to her side, wrap her in more clothing and protect her from the cold, though the girl did not shiver or appear disturbed by the weather. When the girl spoke, her tiny, squeaky voice perfectly matched her body.
