The Praegressus Project: Part One

by Aaron Hodges

  Crouching down, Liz pulled him to her chest. Gravel rattled as Sam appeared beside her. He squatted by Ashley, whispering softly to her, pulling her up, getting her moving again. Trapped or not, there was no time to pause, to sit and wait for death to come for them.

  “I’m sorry,” Chris murmured.

  Liz slid her fingers through his hair and down to his chin. She turned him to face her. “This isn’t your fault, Chris. You were right, this was our best chance. If we’d gone the other way, they would already have caught us. Now get up. We have to decide what to do next.”

  It took several tugs on Chris’s arm before he gathered himself and regained his feet. By then Sam had Ashley looking more herself, though Liz suspected it was no more than a brave face. But then, that’s all any of them had left now.

  “So, what now?” Jasmine crossed her arms, eyes flashing as she looked around the circle. “I’m not going back.”

  Beside her Richard nodded.

  Liz shivered, thinking of the guards creeping up the canyon towards them, of the black steel of their rifles.

  No, we can’t go back.

  To go back now would be worse than if they’d never escaped. They had tasted freedom, rid themselves of the awful collars, breathed the fresh mountain air. And freezing though they were, with their wings drawn tight around their torsos, they were alive.

  “There’s nowhere left to go,” Chris’s voice cracked.

  “Then we fight,” Sam put in, his brow creased. Liz had never seen him so serious.

  Around the circle, the others nodded, but Liz found herself shaking her head. Moving past them, she climbed up the closest boulder, until she was perched atop it. Looking down, she stared out over the gorge, peering through the swirling mist, seeking out their pursuers. The wind tore at her, sending her black hair flying across her face, but she ignored it.

  She heard scuffling from behind her as the others climbed, but did not turn. Over the wind, she shouted back to them. “What do you think?”

  Chris and the others gathered around her, and looked down over the edge.

  To her surprise, Chris swallowed and retreated a step, his eyes widening. The others stood in varying states of fear, though none stood as close to the edge as Liz. To her right was the slope they had just climbed, but directly below the boulder, the gravel fell away in a sheer drop, all the way to the canyon floor two hundred feet below.

  Looking down, Liz felt no fear, only a quiet resolve.

  She would not go quietly back to her chains, to the cold cruelty of the doctors, to their needles and torture. She would not surrender to their bullets, to their harsh violence.

  No, she would fight, she would resist, she would rage.

  “You know,” Ashley mused beside her. “They say birds just know. That their parents push them from the nest, and before they hit the ground, it comes to them.”

  “Care to go first?” Sam muttered.

  Silence fell then as they stared out over the canyon, watching as the tiny specks of the guards came into view. They crawled towards them like ants, eyes searching the boulders strewn around them. But their gaze did not lift to where the seven of them stood, not yet. They were still a long way off, but they were closing quickly.

  Shivering, Liz looked at the others.

  They looked back, waiting.

  Turning back to the edge, Liz sucked in a deep breath. Movement came from beside her as Chris stepped forward, his fingers reaching out to entwine with hers. He looked across at her, his face drained of colour. Naked fear stared from his eyes, but he smiled at her.

  “Just like baby birds, right?” he tried to laugh, but it came out more as a shriek.

  Liz nodded, her stomach swirling. Then she closed her eyes, and focused on the foreign appendages on her back, feeling their presence, embracing them. They were still alien to her, a violation of her body; but she needed them now, needed to embrace them as a part of her.

  Concentrating, she willed them to open.

  With a crack of unfurling feathers, the great black expanse of her wings snapped open. The others gasped, but beside her Liz sensed movement. She looked across to see the tawny brown of Chris’s wings stretch out towards her own. She shivered as their wing tips met, their feathers brushing together.

  Liz flashed one last look back at the others. They wore wide grins on their face now, and their eyes were alive with excitement. She grinned back, and with Chris beside her, turned to face the edge.

  Together, they leapt out into the void.

  CHAPTER 37

  Chris’s stomach lurched up into his chest as he plunged from the edge. Below the ground raced up towards him at a terrifying speed, the jagged rocks looming large in his vision. Opening his mouth, he began to scream.

  His wings gave a hard lurch, followed by a crack as they caught the air. Then he was soaring upwards, the wild wind catching in his twenty-foot wingspan, driving him up, up, up. His stomach twisted again, dropping sharply as the ground fell away. Chris let out another scream as he shot upwards and past the pale faces of his friends.

  Concentrating, he focused on turning, beating his wings to counter the powerful drafts swirling around him, and risked a wave to those below. The others waved back, then with only a moment's hesitation, followed Chris and Liz off the cliff.

  Chris swirled in the air, his wings twisting almost by a will of their own, and watched them plummet from the cluster of boulders. They dropped a dozen feet before their wings caught, halting their freefall and sending them hurtling back up into the sky. Broad grins split their faces, their eyes wild, their laughter echoing off the cliffs. In those briefest of moments, their hunters were forgotten, and there was only the joy of flight.

  But it could not last. An ache had begun in the centre of his back, and already Chris could feel the strain in his chest and abdomen, the muscles pulling tight to keep his wings moving. With their broad expanse, there seemed to be no need for giant wing beats, but even the incremental adjustment of primary feathers and muscle was draining. Looking at the faces of the other, he could see the strain was beginning to affect them too.

  The mist swirled around them, providing some cover from the guards below, or at least he hoped.

  Sucking in a breath, Chris shouted across to the others, his words barely audible over the crack of air through their feathers. “We have to fly over the cliffs.”

  He had been studying the cliffs as the others gathered around them. They still towered above, their peaks tantalisingly out of reach. With the swirling winds doing their best to hinder them, it would take a massive effort to climb those last hundred feet. Glancing down, he searched again for the guards, and found them near the base of the rubble. They were looking up the rugged slope, but they still had not spotted them. Chris prayed they did not look up into the open air.

  After all, who would have guessed they could fly?

  Returning his attention to the cliffs, he willed himself upwards. Muscles strained and feathers shifted, and with a surge of elation he rose several feet. The others quickly followed him, their faces strained with concentration, their eyes fixed on the ledge above. It wasn’t far, less than a hundred feet now, but the winds were shifting, fighting against them. And as they neared the top, the raging waters grew closer, soaking them through and stealing the last of the warmth from their bodies.

  Still they pressed on, beating their wings in the thin air. Water accumulated in their feathers, weighing them down, but gritting his teeth Chris pressed on. His stomach tightened as muscles he had never used stretched and twisted, driving his wings forward, sending him upwards.

  Bit by bit, the top of the cliffs drew closer.

  When they were still thirty feet away, Chris risked a glance down, and swore.

  The guards were staring up at them, pointing, their eyes wide and mouths open in shock. But already one was dropping to his knee, and the others quickly followed suit. Rifles were raised to shoulders and a gun barrel flashed. Almost three hundred feet ab
ove, the seven of them presented an easy target.

  Without thinking, Chris’s wings twisted, sending him whirling sideways, even as he screamed at the others.

  “Look out!”

  Then the air was alive with the screech of bullets. The others scattered like a flock of doves, flying outwards in all directions, though they strained to continue upwards. Up towards the clifftops, towards safety.

  Straining for breath, Chris drove himself on, though every inch of his body was screaming. Threads of terror wrapped their way around him, but somehow he found the strength to hold on. His wings worked by instinct now, alive with the rush of desperation, driven by the need to escape.

  Abruptly he found himself in clear air. One instant the whiz of bullets and howling wind was all around him, then it was gone. Looking down, he realised he had made it, that he had crossed the threshold of the cliffs. The canyon had disappeared from view, dropping away as he shot over the icy ground a few feet below, still tracking the stream upwards.

  Glancing back, he watched Sam shoot up over the lip of the cliff and then dive towards the ground, quickly followed by Jasmine and Richard. They evened out about thirty feet from the ground and raced towards where Chris was pulling up and twisting to meet them. They wore wide grins on their faces, though their cheeks were red and their breath billowed out in clouds of vapour.

  Chris looked past them, holding his breath, waiting for Ashley and Liz and the girl.

  They appeared one by one, Liz, the girl, and finally, rising laboriously into sight, Ashley. Liz and the girl swept down towards them, but Ashley was struggling to maintain her height. Her wings were barely moving now, and her face was turning purple. She still hovered over the lip of the cliff, drifting slowly towards them, driving by sheer determination now.

  Her eyes closed with sudden relief as she reached the clear air. Straightening out, her wings spread wide to catch the gentler breeze. A smile warmed her face as she looked across at them.

  Then her smile faltered, her eyes widening as a shot echoed up from below. A red stain flowered in her chest and blood sprayed the air. Without a sound, Ashley’s wings folded, and she plummeted to the icy ground.

  EPILOGUE

  Ashley lay in a tangled mess of limbs and feathers and wings, her flesh torn and broken, her face buried in snow. The only signs she lived came from the slow rise and fall of her back, the low gurgling coming from her chest. She coughed, half-rolling to reveal her battered face. Blood seeped between her lips in a slow trickle, staining the snow beneath her.

  She didn’t move as they drew closer. Her eyes were closed, and there was little chance she could be conscious after the fall. Chris was shocked she was even alive; though he wasn’t sure that was a blessing for her, or a curse. Her wings lay at awkward angles around her, and when he glanced at her legs he had to look away.

  The bullet had taken her in the back and passed straight through her. Somehow it had missed her heart, but with the blood bubbling from her mouth, it appeared to have found a lung.

  Another groan rattled from Ashley’s chest, tearing at Chris’s heart. He crossed the last of the distance between them and crouched beside her. Tears built in his eyes, but angrily he wiped them away. Reaching out, he grasped Ashley’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “Ashley,” he whispered as the others gathered around them. “Ashley, it’s okay, we’re here.”

  Ashley. Brave, bold, elegant. When he’d first laid eyes on her, he’d thought her fragile, a sheltered city girl incapable of standing up for herself. She had put those misconceptions to rest with her first words. And time and time again since. She had proven stronger than any of them, her will unquenchable.

  And now she lay here on the side of a mountain, her blood staining the frozen earth, and there was nothing any of them could do to help her.

  She was dying.

  Stones crunched as Sam crouched beside him. Tears streamed down the larger boy’s face. Stretching out a hand, he wiped the blood from Ashley’s lips, as though the simple act might wake her, might bring her back to them. A sob tore from his chest as a fresh bubble of blood rose between her lips and burst.

  He reached for her, as though to draw her into his arms, and then stopped. He crouched there with one arm outstretch, torn between his desperation to help her, and the fear he would only hurt her further.

  The others stood around them in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

  Long minutes dragged by as they watched her struggle, her every breath a desperate fight for survival. They had time to spare now, though in truth all thought of escape had vanished. On the harsh mountainside, they sat by their friend and watched her life slip away.

  But as minutes ticked towards an hour, Ashley still clung to life. Her body was torn and broken, her life-blood staining the snow red, but still she breathed, still she fought on.

  Finally Chris knew they could wait no longer. Sucking in a breath, he stood. Tears stung his eyes as Liz joined him, sliding an arm beneath his shoulder. He looked at the others, saw the indecision in even Jasmine and Richard’s eyes. They could not stand there waiting for her to die. And yet, they could not abandon her, could not let her last moments on this earth pass alone on this harsh mountainside.

  He looked at the others, hating the question in their eyes. They wanted him to make a decision, though he was not quite sure when he’d become the leader. It felt strange, especially given Richard and Jasmine’s animosity. But there was no time to debate it now.

  “We can carry her,” Chris whispered at last.

  “No,” Sam croaked, surprising him. The young man looked up at him, his eyes red with tears, and shook his head. “No, you can’t bring her with you. She’ll only slow you down.”

  “We can’t leave her,” Liz said.

  Sam closed his eyes, a shudder going through him. “I know,” he breathed.

  Chris stared at him, a tightness growing in his stomach. “What do you want to do, Sam?”

  “Go, Chris,” Sam looked up at them, resolution shining from his eyes. “Go. Take the others with you. Leave, fly away, be free. I’ll look after her,” his voice broke as he finished, but there was iron in his words.

  Looking down at Sam, Chris wondered at his courage. He opened his mouth to argue, to convince him to come with them, that they could carry her, keep her comfortable until…

  “Maybe they can save her…” Sam finished.

  With those five words, Chris realised they would never change Sam’s mind. He meant to sacrifice himself for Ashley. He would give away his freedom, his life if there was the slightest chance she might live. Looking at her, Chris tried and failed to summon the same hope. Between the bullet and the fall, there was little left of the graceful girl he had known.

  But still she fought on, her iron will unyielding. And thinking of the miracles the facility had performed on them, he wondered if Sam might be right.

  At last he nodded. In his arms, Liz began to tremble, but he pulled her tight before she tried to argue further. She glanced up at him, anger burning in her eyes, but he only shook his head.

  This was Sam’s decision to make. His alone.

  Jasmine and Richard glanced at each other, their shoulders slumped. Whatever their history with Ashley and Sam, Chris doubted they had ever wished for this. Perhaps they would even miss his comedic presence.

  “Good luck, Sam,” Chris said, swallowing hard.

  Sam nodded and then turned back to Ashley. With the utmost care, he slid his hands under her back and lifted her into his arms. She gave a tiny groan as she left the ground, seeming to shrink beside Sam’s massive frame. Her head lifted, her eyelids fluttering, before she nestled her head into the crook of Sam’s arm and grew still.

  Gently, Jasmine and Richard helped tuck the shattered mess of Ashley’s wings into Sam’s arms. Then they stood in silence as Sam moved back towards the cliffs. His copper wings slowly spread as he walked towards the edge, his back straight, his gaze fixed straight ahead
. He did not look back as he reached the edge. Without hesitating, stepped out into open air.

  They stood for a moment after he had disappeared, waiting for the gunfire, praying he would reach the ground safely. But they did not go to the edge. They did not watch.

  Chris didn’t know about the others, but he could not bear to see Sam return to his chains.

  Finally Chris wiped the tears from his eyes and faced the others. They stood shivering in the cold mountain air, their eyes red, their faces pale. Even so, they faced him, waiting.

  But there was only one thing left for them to do now.

  Fly.

  RENEGADES

  BOOK 2 OF THE PRAEGRESSUS PROJECT

  PROLOGUE

  Chris gasped as he grabbed at the lip of the cliff and hauled himself over the edge. Rolling clear of the hundred-foot drop, he shivered as icy fingers of air cut through the rips in his shirt. Grimacing, he looked at the red grazes on his bare feet and hands. The frozen rock had been merciless, unforgiving of the slightest mistakes. But with the wind whirling about the mountaintop, there had been no other choice.

  A dull ache started to throb in the back of his head as he settled down on the rocky escarpment and looked out over the valley they had just traversed. Beyond his desolate perch, the mountains stretched out around him, their ice-capped peaks soaring up into the swirling clouds. Cliffs peeked out between the snowy blanket, their rocky faces pockmarked and broken, while in the valley below shattered rock lay embedded in the barren earth. A frozen stream carved its way through the valley, its crystal surface as clear as day from Chris’s vantage point far above. The wind howled as it raced between the peaks, and the mountains echoed with the distant rumble of falling snow. Every so often he heard the sharp crack of breaking rock or ice, and he would flinch, expecting the bullets to follow.