by Kevin George
“Why are you trying to kill me?” Love asked with eerie calmness.
Walda shook her head. “Everything has been so. . . confusing with the others showing up. Nobody intended to hurt you. I’m sorry if you got caught in the middle of—”
Love opened his sharp mouth and unleashed a screech that echoed down the hallway. Walda needed a moment to register the word ‘liar’ within the awful shriek. Several guards covered their ears while the guns of other guards shook in their hands. Walda turned to the humans, holding up a hand to calm them.
“I just want the Descendant,” Love said. “And I want all mothers to be released. I want all of the innocents to come with me.”
Walda slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we both know that’ll never happen. The Board will never allow it.”
Love flapped his wings again, the wind he created pushing Walda back a step or two. He hovered off the floor and stared down the hallway.
“Please,” Walda called out, slowly inching around Love, trying to cut off his path to the opening of the outside world. She felt a cold breeze from behind and didn’t step back any closer to the ledge. “I’m sure the Descendant is being well cared for in your absence. If we can just take you to the Board, this is an issue that can be addressed directly with them.”
Though Walda’s eyes remained squarely locked with Love’s, she sensed the movement of guards behind him, the larger force from deeper down the hallway coming closer to Love, many of them slowly raising their weapons. If she could distract the giant Aviary for a few more seconds, the others might be able to finish off this unsavory task without Love ever seeing the shots. The angry lines started to ease on Love’s face, and Walda knew he wasn’t about to turn around and see what was coming. . .
Love’s eyes suddenly looked beyond Walda and his body tensed. Walda heard screams from other guards a split second before she saw another blur of movement speed through the opening. She barely flinched before a second flyer—this one much smaller than Love but also with functioning wings—curled into a ball and crashed into her.
Human screams and Aviary squawks erupted, as did chaos. Love hurried to help BabyDoll to her feet but soon found the guards pushing in on them from the far side of the hallway. It wasn’t long before the guards nearly overwhelmed them and only the arrival of Carli, who smashed into the group and knocked down friend and foe alike, stopped the guards from taking full control. Love flapped wildly, hurling his body into anyone and everyone. Carli and BabyDoll found each other among the pandemonium, each of them grasping the other’s hand. Carli looked back for a moment to see a relatively clear path to the outside world, but when she tried to pull the little girl toward the safety of the skies, BabyDoll resisted, her eyes never leaving Love.
Love fought valiantly, gaining a momentary advantage as he forced many of the faint-hearted guards to retreat down the hallway. Walda’s dropped walkie crackled to life, a familiar voice hailing the head of security.
“What’s the report on Love and the others?” Ms. Van Horn’s voice echoed. “Have they been destroyed yet?”
Love turned to Walda and hissed, but a trio of guards soon collided with him from behind. The fighting started anew, with more guards rushing toward them, easily inundating BabyDoll and Carli, who stopped resisting once in the grasp of their armed enemies. But Love continued to thrash, calling out for the Descendant as he knocked guard after guard to the side, his intensity building when he saw Carli and BabyDoll held captive.
Walda remained back from the chaos and ordered the few guards between her and the ledge to join the attack on Love. Spotting her gun on the floor, she scurried to pick it up while Love was preoccupied, determined to end this trouble—and fulfill the Board’s order—once and for all. But she no sooner grabbed the gun and lined up her shot than another of the guards had the same idea. Several shots nearly hit Love, with one of the bullets ricocheting off The Mountain wall near the head of security.
Walda heard the thud of bullet against flesh before actually feeling anything. At first, she didn’t give the sound much thought, but she suddenly lost all strength in her arms and her gun clattered to the floor. Her legs went slack and she stumbled back a few steps, barely able to stay upright. She glanced down and saw a red circle spreading across her chest. She lifted her head and saw many shocked eyes aimed at her, perhaps the most shocked of all belonging to Love.
“I didn’t want anyone getting hurt,” he told her.
As Walda stumbled back, she felt coldness filling every part of her body. Screams of her guards sounded as distant as the howling wind behind her and Love’s flapping in front of her. Blackness pushed in from the sides of her vision and everything around her seemed to fade away. . .
Love glided toward the woman, reaching out a clawed hand as she stumbled back, grabbing hold of her shirt as she was inches from the ledge. Behind him, he heard guards screaming. A part of him expected to be shot in the back at any moment. But he kept a firm grip on Walda, meeting the woman’s gaze even after her eyes continued to stare yet see nothing. Love was so shocked to see the light of her life extinguished that he didn’t notice her shirt ripping until she fell from his grasp and plunged over the side.
Mother. . .
He spread his wings and planned to leap after her, knowing she was already dead but not wanting her body to suffer the indignity of smashing against the rocks. But one set of arms wrapped around his body, and then another and another. The guards dragged him into the hallway, more of their numbers joining in, even as Love swore that he was only trying to help Walda. When the force of so many guards finally drove him to his knees, he flexed his back with all his strength. His wings propelled five men off of him. He turned in time to see one of them stumble back and fall over the ledge.
Love gasped and started toward the opening again, determined to save the guard and prove his worthiness to the humans, only to be tackled by a larger group. “Stop,” he yelled, thrashing in their grasp. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
After several seconds being unable to break free, Love realized the guard had already struck the rocks below. Now two humans had died because of him. A glance toward BabyDoll and Carli showed weapons being pointed at both of them, a twitch of a human finger the only difference between them living or dying in front of his eyes. Though Love had only wanted to free the Descendant and the mothers, he was never going to do it this way.
He stopped fighting and put his hands in the air, surrendering in the hopes of talking sense into the guards. He knew they were deathly frightened of the Board and for good reason, but he hoped they might form an alliance that would prove mutually beneficial for—
A guard cracked Love in the back of the head with the butt of his weapon. Love’s wings went as limp as his legs. He collapsed to the floor, blackness flashing in front of his eyes. He opened his mouth to beg for mercy but barely managed a chirp before the rest of the guards started to kick him, knocking out the small amount of breath remaining in his lungs. Their assault on him continued for what felt like a long time, the guards finding renewed savagery each time Love forced himself to his hands and knees. BabyDoll’s panicked screams sounded farther and farther away. Still, Love somehow had the wherewithal to spot Walda’s walkie on floor at the same time a guard grabbed it.
When Love finally went down and stayed down, his vision faded and so did his hearing, but he distantly heard the message that the guard yelled into the walkie.
“Moretti, do you copy? The intruders have been captured, but Walda Lamb is dead.”
Love’s dazed mind heard nothing else, but he used his final moment of consciousness to keep begging them to release the Descendant.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Chad’s pulse raced. He’d only climbed one flight of stairs—he could still see the hangar—but his nerves were on overdrive. It didn’t help being unable to breathe properly within the face mask. On more than one occasion, he’d been tempted to take it off, if even for a single breath of f
resh air. But the guards in charge of The Mountain had known when the hangar door was and wasn’t closed, so he had no idea if—or how—he was being watched. It was only this fear of being monitored that also made him follow the command to leave his post.
“Moretti, do you copy?”
When the walkie at his hip crackled to life again, Chad froze. It took him a moment to remember Moretti was his new name.
“The intruders have been captured,” said a voice Chad didn’t recognize, “but Walda Lamb is dead.”
Chad’s insides felt hollow. His hand shook as he raised the walkie to his mouth and growled a single word.
“Copy.”
Why are they telling me that? Either way, relief flooded him now that the head of security—who’d taken a particular interest in him—would no longer focus on what he did, but he also felt guilty to be benefiting from her death. Chad hadn’t planned to follow her command and report to the highest level, but with the guard force currently preoccupied, he’d decided there’d be no better time to start searching The Mountain for Sally. Now, he wasn’t so sure he needed to take that risk.
“As second in command, that means you’re in charge.”
“M. . .me?” Chad asked.
In the background of the transmission, Chad heard chaos in the form of shrill winds and angry yelling, both of which were joined by frantic squawking. Normally, he would’ve ignored the strange sound, but his memory brought him back to another time he’d heard howling winds and squawking.
Plodding through deep snow. . . glancing back to see the orange glow of the vehicle disappearing through the blizzard. . . coldness unlike any I’d ever felt. . . wanting to give in to the pain and allow the snow to bury me but knowing I had to keep going to save Sally. . . my body shutting down and my vision going black. . . a squawking from above as a blur of movement descended from the clouds. . .
A Sky Person had saved him and helped save Sally, though the same Sky Person presumably helped trick Chad into being locked in the ISU. Chad still couldn’t figure out if he loved or hated the Sky Person for that, but somehow the agonized squawking didn’t make him feel better.
“What should we do with Love and the other two prisoners?” the guard asked.
Chad didn’t feel better when the chaos quieted enough to hear a weakened voice begging for the release of the Descendant. The damn fools still think Oliver is the real Descendant, Chad thought, shaking his head in disgust. A voice inside his head told him to keep that secret to himself. He did not feel an ounce of regret about whatever fate might befall the evil prince, but he suddenly realized if anyone might have information about the fate of the City Below, it was Oliver. But do I even want to know about that?
He thought about Artie and Emma and his parents, about how difficult life might’ve become for them following his escape from the underground city. He hoped none had been punished for his crime but part of him doubted the king or prince had suddenly learned mercy. Still, Chad had already made the decision to leave his past in the past, a decision that was suddenly more difficult to enforce.
“Should we shoot all three and get it over with?” the guard asked.
Chad’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at the walkie. A realization struck him like a ton of falling rock.
“No!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the hollow stairwell.
Who else would be with the Sky Person but James and Sally?
“Is one of them. . . a young woman?” he asked, barely able to choke out the words.
“Affirmative,” the voice said.
“Bring them to. . .” Chad stopped himself. Though the guards seemed ready to follow his orders, Chad didn’t want to arouse suspicion by ordering the prisoners brought all the way to the hangar. “Lock them in a room for now until. . . until I figure out the next step.”
“Copy that.”
“Just be extra careful handling the man,” Chad said. He wanted to warn them about the man who’d locked him in the ISU, but was careful not to mention anything more specific.
“Man?” the guard asked. “What man? There’s only Love, the little winged freak and a young woman wearing some sort of contraption.”
“Is the young woman named Sally?” Chad blurted without thinking.
The walkie remained silent for the longest minute of Chad’s life, time in which he was certain the guards were discussing how strangely he responded. For all he knew, guards might be on their way now to capture or kill him.
“She says her name is Carli,” the guard finally answered.
“Understood,” Chad said. “Lock them up.”
“Copy that.”
Chad stood on the bottom tier of steps, peering up at the stairwell that seemed to stretch on forever. With the utter disappointment of Sally not being here with the Sky Person, he hesitated to climb any higher. Months had passed since he’d been in the ISU’s radio room and heard mention of Sally at The Mountain. Now, he wasn’t so certain what he’d heard, though he was certain his best chance to make it out alive was to head back into the hangar, confiscate one of the vehicles and drive into the Nothingness in search of any other human settlements that might have survived. . .
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
More than once, Olly managed to break free from one of the guards. Unfortunately, the second guard always kept hold and one finally clubbed him in the back of the head, not hard enough to knock him out but hard enough to take away his fight and make his legs turn to rubber.
“Mother,” he yelled, his tone turning desperate at the sight of Liv on the floor, face down, no longer moving.
Quentin hurried to kneel by her side, putting two fingers to her neck to check for a pulse. Billy remained back near the closed door, staring from the empty syringe to Liv and back again, shaking his head in dismay.
“It should have worked,” the young scientist said.
Quentin sighed, his head and shoulders dropping, the sight of which brought a renewed effort by Olly to free himself. But the guards kept him in check, allowing Quentin to focus his building frustration on Billy.
“You messed up,” he snapped.
In the back of Quentin’s mind, a voice accused him of hypocrisy, pointed out that he was unfairly blaming the scientist the same way he himself had been blamed by the Board. But the young scientist’s earlier smugness made Quentin almost glad to see him fail.
“I wasn’t allowed to conduct any testing,” Billy said, anger replacing shock. “I was forced to combine the Descendant’s marrow with an already tainted version of Blast. You didn’t let me even test the blood of your precious Jonas Descendant.”
Olly stopped struggling and finally glanced away from his mother.
“What are you talking about? I’m the true Jonas.”
Billy looked at Olly and snickered, but Quentin didn’t find the claim so amusing. He looked down at Liv and then back to her son.
“Could Love have brought us the wrong person? Was he wrong about the girl being the Descendant?” Quentin asked.
Billy shook his head. “In the City Below, the truth about the Jonas family’s bloodlines was known by a select few. Obviously, the precious King and Jonas never told the boy the truth.”
Olly’s thoughts already raced, but Quentin’s words and the scientist’s claims jarred a thought in Olly’s mind.
“The Descendant, that’s what the Sky Person called Emma when he took her,” he said. “Do you have her here? Did she survive the eruption?”
Billy nodded. “But it might be for nothing if her bone marrow or blood don’t prove valuable.”
“Take more from her, drain her for all I care,” Quentin said, frustration flowing through his words. “This is our only chance to succeed. It’s our only chance to bring Him back when generations before us couldn’t.”
Quentin turned to the guards, both of them looking at him as if he’d gone crazy. Quentin didn’t care, unleashing a guttural squawk in their direction. Any humanity left in him was being overtaken by
frustration.
“Will someone please tell me who Him is?” Billy asked.
“Who cares?” Olly snapped. “If Emma is here, you have to take me to—”
Liv twitched on the floor, the movement almost imperceptible at first. Olly might not have noticed if he hadn’t been staring at her.
“Please, let me go to her,” Olly said, nodding toward Liv.
The guards held him tighter. Rather than continue his struggle, he begged Quentin to check on her. Quentin’s anger eased and he placed two fingers beneath her jawline.
“She has a pulse,” he said. “And that’s not all.”
When he pulled his hand back, he held a feather.
“She’s changing,” Billy said, hurrying forward.
Olly stopped struggling and watched, his chest swelling with hope. His mother was alive. Within moments, he wasn’t sure she would stay that way. Her back arched and she unleashed a cry of agony. Spasms wracked her body, violent convulsions that stretched her clothes and caused Billy and Quentin to back away. Feathers burst out of her skin with such force that they pushed through her clothing. Her screams intensified with every second, and it wasn’t long until the sounds she made rivaled Quentin’s earlier squawk of frustration.
“Mom!” Olly called out.
Pushing herself onto all fours, Liv’s head hung just out of sight. When Olly called her again, she looked up slowly, her eyes locking with his, giving Olly a perfect view as her nose and mouth elongated, narrowing to a sharper angle. Her head dropped and flitted from side to side, her pained squawks filling the room. She reached a hand toward Olly, who watched her fingers lengthen and her fingernails sharpen to fine points. Olly didn’t know whether to be relieved that she was alive or appalled by what she was turning into.
As Liv’s shaking and cawing subsided, she stood on wobbly legs, tilting dangerously to one side, barely able to remain on her feet. But she reached her hand toward Olly and took a few wobbly steps in his direction.