Flight of the Golden Harpy

by Susan Klaus

  The security guard moved in. “Sorry, sir. We can’t have you talking to the harpy. It might upset him.”

  “I’m done inspecting him. He’s going to be fine,” John said to the man and glanced up at Shail. He bent under the rope and stood next to Charlie.

  Shail stared at him with watery, tormented eyes. He tossed his head and long locks back and for a moment gazed at the ceiling. He lay down and covered himself with his wings. The feathers faintly fluttered over his shivering body.

  John shook his head. “He’s a far cry from when I last saw him,” John said to Charlie. “These men really abused him. Even after he’s freed, I wonder if he can be saved.”

  John walked to the exit with Charlie and recalled his previous encounter with Shail. The harpy had dropped to his knees and offered up his life for the promised protection of his family. It was the bravest act John had ever witnessed.

  * * *

  His face snuggled in feathers, Shail dwelled on Turner’s words and felt ill. He tried to swallow the ever-present lump in his throat. He wanted to be strong, strong for his flock and family, for the jungle that only a golden harpy could rescue from the swarms, but he wasn’t strong enough to save himself. He felt weak, dishonored, and terrified and didn’t know how to rid himself of the doomed feeling.

  Hearing the cage door open, he automatically trembled before lifting his head to see who entered. Mollie walked through the straw toward him and held a syringe of drugs. She pulled back his wing and injected his arm. He lacked the willpower to rebel.

  She sat down beside him and stroked his head. “You did good, prince. All the people are gone. I’ll have your cage moved back outside to the warm air and quiet. I’ll stay with you all night. Those men won’t hurt you again. Soon, my beautiful prince, you’ll have the peace you want.”

  Shail licked her hand and understood about the peace. It was the peace of death she spoke of, and the peace he wanted. The strange woman truly grasped a trapped harpy’s desires. He rested his head on her leg and nuzzled her.

  Two men rolled his cage back to the outside hunting range. With the threat of dark clouds and rain, it was kept under the awning. Mollie entered his cage with a bowl of cut-up fruit. Although he preferred starvation, he obliged her and ate the small piece she slipped into his mouth.

  Rain and darkness came, and Mollie stretched out in the straw. He curled up beside her and placed his face near her ribs. Her warm body and stroking, kind hands consoled him.

  “You won’t be much of a challenge for the hunter who wins the auction,” she said. “You’ll probably curl up at the man’s feet. Gus totally domesticated you, but hopefully the bidders will see your docile nature, and you’ll sell as a pet.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Listening to the rain, they drifted asleep.

  In the middle of the night Shail heard the range doors opening and quickly jerked his head up away from Mollie’s side. He smelled the unforgettable odor of whiskey. Seeing Gus and the two men at the door, he scrambled to his feet and dove into the far cage corner and hid under the straw.

  His movement woke Mollie, and she sat up. “You’re not supposed to be here, Gus,” Mollie said when the men walked to the cage. “Bill doesn’t want you near the harpy.”

  “He ain’t my boss, and I do what I want,” Gus slurred. “Me and the boys missed your little prince and came to see if he missed us, but I see he’s got you. How come you like that thing more than me?”

  “You’re drunk,” Mollie said, and stood. “You need to go home and sleep it off.” She walked to the cage door and unlocked it. As she pushed to open it, Gus slammed it shut and grinned. “Gus, leave the harpy and me alone.”

  Gus glanced at the harpy that cowered in the corner. “I’ll leave him alone. I ain’t gonna risk all that money and ride him again, but how about you, Mollie? Care to give me a rough ride?” He and the men laughed.

  “Gus, open the door,” Mollie said.

  “So you can get the guards?” Gus asked. “Them boys are crammed in an office with this rain, watchin’ sports, but I’ll open the door so me, Lester, and Bert can come in.” Gus stepped up into the cage. “Bill said all those women today were in love with the harpy, but I bet they’d feel different if the harpy raped you.” Gus stood in front of Mollie, and the two other men blocked the door.

  She moved out of the vulgar man’s reach. “The harpy wouldn’t rape me. You turned him into a gentle little bird.”

  “Yeah, we broke him pretty good,” Gus said, “but I, on the other hand, enjoy rape.”

  “Gus, don’t do this.” Mollie tried to reason with the drunk. “You’re about to be rich. You don’t want to go back to prison.”

  Gus laughed. “What makes you think I’d go to prison? That takes a witness, and the only witness is gonna be the silent bird. I like you, Mollie, but this is business. When they find you dead and raped, they’ll blame the harpy. Everyone knows harpies rape women. The bleeding-heart public will change their tune, and the hunters will bid higher for a killer.” He shoved Mollie against the cage bars. “See, I’m not that drunk.” He ripped her shirt and exposed her breasts. Mollie slapped his face, and he slugged her, knocking her into the straw. He savagely tore off her remaining clothing.

  Gus handed her shirt to Lester. “Gag her, so the guards can’t hear.”

  Mollie returned to consciousness and struggled to rise, but the men held her down while Gus unzipped his pants. “I’m gonna fuck you to death, bitch.”

  “What about the harpy?” Lester asked.

  Gus glanced at the hiding harpy and chuckled. “He’s too scared to move. The little stud might learn somethin’.” Gus opened his bottle of stimulant pills and popped one in his mouth. “I’m ready for another all-nighter.” He brutally penetrated Mollie while Lester and Bert held each of her arms and fondled her breasts.

  Shail trembled under his wings and watched the men ravage his gentle handler. He heard her murmured screams in the gag and saw her struggling legs, but soon she lay still and quietly moaned. The attack was endless, each man replaced with another.

  The hours slipped by, and slowly Shail’s fear subsided. Breathing deeply, he pictured himself beneath the men and relived the pain and humiliation. Witnessing Mollie’s rape, he saw his own, and rage and hate flooded the empty shell of his mind.

  Gus was on Mollie, thrusting and cursing. “Come on, bitch, move,” he said. Lester and Bert had left the cage and leaned against the outside cage bars, joking and sipping from the whiskey bottle.

  Mollie lay limp, all fight gone, apparently resigned to her fate. Her half-closed eyes opened wide, and she stared beyond Gus. The harpy stood behind the unaware man.

  Shail grabbed Gus by the neck and held him in a sleeper hold. The large man choked and attempted to unclasp his hold. By the time Lester and Bert noticed Shail’s attack, he had throttled Gus into unconsciousness. The men scrambled into the cage door, and Shail was forced to release the big man, who collapsed on top of Mollie.

  Bert pulled a long knife from his belt. “Grab him, Lester, and I’ll stick him,” Bert said. The two men backed Shail into a cage corner.

  Mollie managed to slide out from under Gus’s huge, stunned body and crawled to the cage door. The men were busy with Shail when she tumbled out of the cage. Gathering her remaining strength, she limped to the doors and staggered out of the hunting range.

  Lester lunged for Shail, but he fluttered and kicked Lester’s face with a blow meant to kill. The man hit the bars and fell stunned into the straw. Bert wildly wielded the knife, slashing at Shail, but Shail swiftly snatched the man’s wrist and twisted. Bert dropped the knife and fought to break free, his wrist broken. Shail jumped in the air and kicked the man’s ribs, knocking him backward. Bert struggled to his knees, holding his injured wrist and cracked ribs. His face displayed shock that Shail, though slender, was so agile and strong.

  Shail calmly retrieved the knife out of the straw and walked to Bert. He clutched the kneeling man’s hair and jerked
his neck back. “Is this how it is done?” Shail asked, using his soft human voice. “Is this how a hunter kills a harpy?”

  Bert screamed and tried to fight off the hold, but Shail quickly cut the noisy man’s throat and watched Bert gag on his own blood.

  Lester came around and feebly climbed to his feet. Realizing he was Shail’s next victim, he made a dash for the open cage door. Shail sprung at him and seized his hair, jerking him off his feet. Lester crawled through the straw, away from Shail. He grabbed the bars and pulled himself up. “No, please, no,” Lester begged when the harpy approached.

  Shail flipped his hair with annoyance. “Receive what you have given,” he said. A kick to the man’s testicles, and Lester dropped to his knees. Clutching the human’s hair, Shail sliced the second man’s throat. Shail hissed at the dying man and felt the satisfaction of revenge.

  Shail turned toward his last victim. Gus was awake and had witnessed Lester’s death. The big man glanced at Bert’s still body lying in the straw toward the back of the cage. Gus rose, eyeing the harpy’s blood-soaked hands clasping a knife.

  Shail flung his hair and seethed. His hostile glare conveyed payback time. “Those received a quick death,” Shail said, “but you, who taught me to hate, shall die slowly for taking my honor.”

  Gus backed away, appearing startled. He bumped into the cage bars. “You can talk,” he muttered.

  “Yes,” said Shail, “so you learn, before your death, harpies are not animals.”

  Gus nervously chuckled. “You’re pretty fucking confident. It’s gonna take more than you and a knife to bring me down.”

  Shail arched his wings. “I am the more.” He tossed the knife into the straw. “I need no weapon to kill a monster.”

  Gus lunged at Shail, knocking him down and wrestled his three-hundred-sixty-pound body on top of the harpy. Standing six foot six, Gus tried to pin Shail, who was eighty-five pounds and six feet tall, but Shail fought dirty. His teeth immediately sank into Gus’s nose, and he kneed the man’s crotch. Gus pulled back, and Shail curled his body under the man and let loose with a kick to Gus’s face, striking his already black eye. Shail slid out and sprang to his feet.

  Gus climbed to his feet, rubbed his eye, and felt for his nose. Drawing back, he stared at his bloody hand. “When I get ahold of you,” he growled, “you’ll wish you were dead.”

  “Already I wish for death,” Shail said with his soft voice.

  They stalked each other. Gus out-shadowed and out-muscled Shail, but the harpy had six limbs and moved with lightning speed. All his life Shail had tangled with large, dangerous animals and knew how to disable them.

  Gus hurled himself at Shail, wildly swinging his fists. Shail ducked the punches and flapped his wings, flying to the top of the high twelve-foot cage. Before Gus could turn and look up, Shail drop-landed on the huge man’s back. Gus struggled to throw him off, leaping back and slamming him against the bars, but Shail clung to the man, one arm around Gus’s neck and the other gripping his jaw. Shail jerked with all his strength, attempting to snap the thick neck, but he was off balance on the frantic man, who was in a fight for his life.

  Shail flapped his wings and righted himself. Gus pulled the harpy’s arms to unlock the death hold. With several swift thrusts, Shail heard Gus’s neck vertebrae pop. Shail fluttered off, and the giant staggered, collapsed, and jerked in the straw. Gus stared up at Shail, who mockingly sniffled at his defeated enemy. With his last kick, Gus sadistically grinned. Shail ruffled his feathers and stepped out of the open cage door.

  * * *

  Mollie stumbled through the building nude and hysterical. She screamed for help. The two security guards heard her and rushed out of the office.

  “Gus and his men are killing the harpy,” she cried.

  The guards looked at one another and called on their radio for backup. Two other guards finally appeared from the outside.

  Seeing their uneasiness in confronting Gus, she screamed at them. “You’re taking too long!” The four men went to the range, and she followed them as best she could, none of them expecting the gruesome sight that awaited. The display cage door was open, and inside three large men lay on the red-soaked straw. Blood from their slashed throats dripped from the cage and splattered on the floor.

  One guard checked the bodies. “They’re all dead. Do you see the harpy?” The men nervously peered into the dark forest of the range.

  “The harpy was able to kill Gus,” said another guard with disbelief. “I don’t get paid enough to go after it.”

  A guard wrapped one of Shail’s blankets around Mollie and helped her into a chair. She broke down and cried. The guards stayed close to the entrance and called Bill.

  “The harpy has killed your brother and Lester and Bert,” said a guard. “It’s loose in the hunting range.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Bill said wearily. “It can’t get out, but stay by the doors.”

  Seeing Mollie’s bruised face, split lip, and welts, a guard asked, “Did the harpy do this to you?”

  “No,” Mollie said between sniffles. “Gus and those men raped me and were going to kill me. The harpy saved me. Do you understand? He jumped Gus and saved my life. Don’t hurt him.”

  Bill and the police arrived at the range simultaneously. Bill stepped up into the cage and looked at his dead brother. Gus’s neck was twisted, his face smeared red, and part of his nose was missing. “Jesus,” he muttered.

  A police sergeant approached him. “I just talked to your animal handler, Mollie. She claims your brother and these two raped her and planned to murder her.”

  “She’s confused. Gus wouldn’t hurt her,” Bill said. “You’ve heard how a woman loses her mind after a harpy molesting. My brother was probably trying to help her when the creature attacked. Let me talk to her.”

  “She sounds competent,” said the sergeant, “but regardless, the harpy is dangerous and has to be destroyed. At first light we’ll go in and get him.”

  “No, he’s too valuable,” Bill said and stepped out of the cage. He pulled the police sergeant aside. “I can make it worth your while to keep him alive. Say twenty thousand credits? My men can stun him and get him back into his cage. He’ll be auctioned off Monday night and destroyed Tuesday.”

  The sergeant massaged his chin. “Twenty thousand,” he said. “I have no problem letting it live till Tuesday as long as it’s caged and properly secured, but your handler could complicate your plans. If her claim is true that the men were the rapists, the sperm DNA will confirm it and drag out the investigation. The courts will take ownership of the harpy and delay your auction. In the same situation, if a guard dog attacked men to save its assaulted owner, there wouldn’t be any reprisal against the animal. This situation might apply to the harpy. The courts have the power to spare him.”

  Bill nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” He walked over to Mollie. “Come dear; there’s a robe in my office.” Bill helped her up and led her out of the range.

  Bill put the robe on Mollie and closed his office door. “It must have been awful.”

  “It was.” Mollie whimpered. “Gus held me down … he was going to kill me and blame it on the harpy.”

  “You’re upset and mixed up. The harpy raped you, and poor Gus gave his life to save you.”

  She stopped crying and looked up. “But that’s not what happened.”

  “It is what happened. If you say different, I might have to finish what Gus started, and don’t even consider telling the police. I know people who can make a witness disappear. Do we understand one another?”

  Mollie nodded with fear.

  “Good girl. I knew you were smart. One of the officers will take you to a hospital. They can finish their report on how the harpy attacked you.”

  Bill opened the office door and motioned to a police officer posted outside. “Her memory is coming back.”

  17

  Outside the cage Shail glanced back at the dead men and felt rage. The rain had le
t up and exposed the stars in between moving gray clouds. Spreading his wings, he flew the length of the dark hunting range and looked for an opening in the heavy top screen. He quickly learned he was still a prisoner, and the screen was impossible to break. Longing to be rid of the men’s blood on his body, he found a small pond and landed. They shall never soil me again, he thought and rinsed in the cool water.

  Shail assumed his hate would wash away like their blood, but he was wrong. His mind dwelled on the cruel molesting, and he smoldered with revenge. The humans hated and slaughtered his race, and now the prejudice had come full circle. The ruler of the harpies longed to kill them.

  He was troubled by the powerful hate that consumed him and realized he would willingly sacrifice his flocks to destroy men. His decision to lead wisely was lost. If free, I would have my harpies slay all survivors of the swarms, he thought. Better I die than have the human weapons harm my flock.

  When the blood was gone, he curled up on the ground and focused on his heart, hoping to commit suicide with a heart attack, but Mollie’s drugs protected his life. He stood up and shook his head, never feeling so confused. The emotion of hate was foreign to a harpy, and like love, he believed it would remain forever. “The men shall kill me with the coming light,” he said, resolved to his fate. “The swarms shall cleanse the land, and my son shall reign in a human-free world.”

  He flew to the highest tree and perched on the blue limb near the screen. He called out silently in hopes of contacting a harpy. If any were near, they would sense his thoughts and come. The moist wind whipped at his locks, sending them off his shoulders while he stared beyond the walls at the horizon. The first rays of dawn crept through dark clouds. His time was fleeting like the tropical breeze.

  A half-grown harpy sailed out of the shadowy sky and landed on the screen above Shail’s head. The young harpy stared down in awe. “Your wings are yellow. You are the golden ruler we seek,” he relayed, and bowed his head.