The Mountain

by Kevin George

  “Don’t come any closer,” snapped one of the guards.

  Together, the guards forced Olly to his knees before simultaneously raising their weapons toward Liv. She screeched and collapsed to her knees. Quentin hurried between Liv and the guards.

  “Lower your weapons!” he snapped at them, snatching a gun from one of the guards.

  As Liv tried to stand again, Olly crawled toward her. Quentin snapped for the guards to restrain him, though they weren’t nearly as excited to do so once Liv stood straighter and more balanced. Quentin waved his arms at Liv, whose head flitted between him and her son. Quentin squawked and squawked, keeping her attention as he slowly circled toward Billy and the door.

  “It’s working,” Billy said. “Look at her. She’s perfect.”

  Liv snapped at them, several of her teeth clattering to the floor as her mouth became too narrow to hold them all.

  “Not quite perfect yet,” Quentin said. “You can’t be a proper Aviary without—”

  Liv stopped suddenly and hunched over, her shoulders shuddering lightly at first, joined by a high-pitched chirp. But with each inhale—and with each call of “Mom” from Olly on the far side of the room—Liv’s breathing came in heavier gasps, her shoulders rising higher and higher, her chirps turning into deeper, pained squawks. When a giant set of wings ripped through her shoulders and the back of her clothing, she spread them wide, nearly touching both side walls at the same time. Quentin backed away until bumping into the door but Billy stared at her, mouth slightly agape, in wonder of the perfect specimen.

  Liv flexed her back. Her wings flapped with such strength and intensity that the wind she created forced everyone in the room to take a step back. Her feet hovered off the floor, yet when she turned her head both ways, she lost her balance and swerved from one side of the room to the other, crashing into several walls, causing dirt and dust and feathers to fly. Each crash led to a pained squawk, and each pained squawk led to Olly calling out louder. Billy pled with her not to fight the changes, but the sound of his voice only caused Liv to turn her head—and therefore her body—in his direction.

  Quentin and Billy nearly tripped over one another trying to retreat, but neither had anywhere to go with the door closed behind them. Liv turned at the last moment, barely grazing the scientist and the Aviary with her wing, the force still enough to knock them both back. Liv stopped flapping and landed on her feet, which had pushed their way out of her boots and were now shaped like hooked claws. She hobbled toward her captors, her claws clicking against the rocky floor, Billy shaking his head as Quentin groaned and whimpered.

  “Mom, please.”

  Liv’s head snapped in her son’s direction. Though her next squawk sounded as carnal as the ones before it, a single word could be heard within the high-pitched sound.

  “Olly!”

  The moment she flapped her wings and shot toward the back of the room, Quentin scrambled to his feet, threw open the door and rushed into the hallway. Had Billy not been so quick to follow, Quentin would’ve undoubtedly left him inside. Quentin’s hands shook as he punched in the numbers on the nearby keypad, but the door’s lock soon clicked shut. Quentin leaned back against the door and slumped to the floor, where he breathed heavily as he listened to muffled screams of fear—and then screams of agony—from inside the room.

  Billy stood next to him, his face pressed firmly against the small glass window. The young scientist shook his head slowly.

  “She’s ripping the guards to shreds,” he said, the tone of his voice somewhere between shock and awe. “Is that what all of you do?”

  “We could,” Quentin said, trying to sound threatening despite his voice cracking, “if we wanted to.”

  The screams came to a gurgling end, though Liv’s barbaric squawking continued. Billy finally looked away, shuddering.

  “She went insane,” Quentin said.

  “Did she?” Billy asked.

  “The boy? Her son, did she. . .”

  Billy shook his head. “He was standing in the corner, just watching what she was doing. He must’ve gotten away from the guards before she reached them.”

  “Does she know he’s there?” Quentin asked.

  Billy shrugged and turned back to the window. Quentin hurried to join him, nearly becoming sick when he saw Liv hunched over two lumps of bloodied flesh that had been humans moments earlier. Liv stood slowly, her back turned to them, though Billy and Quentin both saw blood dripping off her. She turned to her son in the corner and hobbled toward him.

  “Should we stop her?” Billy asked.

  “Do you want to go back in there?”

  “Well,” Billy said, pulling his fist back, “should we at least try to distract her?”

  Quentin shook his head. “May as well see what she does.”

  As Liv approached the corner, she spread her wings wide, obstructing their view of Olly. She curled her wings around the young man.

  “Is that her way of trapping prey?” Billy asked.

  “I believe that’s her way of hugging her son,” Quentin said. “She may no longer be human, but I understand that those of our kind—at least those of proper Aviary blood—are more protective of their families than normal humans are. As you can see, they also handle threats with more finality.”

  Billy stepped back and a hand went to the side of his white lab coat. “My version of the Blast worked then.”

  Quentin’s eyes widened as he stared at Billy’s hand. “It worked.”

  A muffled squawk and flash of white caused both men to turn back toward the door. Liv sped in their direction, and though a door separated her from the hallway, Billy and Quentin recoiled so quickly they nearly tripped over one another. They flinched as Liv crashed into the door, which held strong and true despite the tiny window shattering, tiny bits of glass raining around their feet. Liv stuck part of her angular face through the small opening.

  “Let us out,” she said.

  It was only when she backed away that Quentin stepped forward to answer. “We can’t do that.”

  Olly carefully eased his mother aside and approached the empty window frame. “Release Emma.”

  “We can’t do that, either,” Quentin said. “She’s key to bringing Him back.”

  With a sigh, Olly stepped back, turned to his mother and nodded. Another flap of her wings was soon joined by a crash and loud squawk. The crashing continued until a new sound joined the others, a new sound that made Quentin and Billy turn to each other with eyes full of fear: cracking. It was barely perceptible at first but grew louder and more prominent each time Liv smashed against the door. Quentin yelled for her to stop, but his begging only caused Liv to start farther back and flap her wings harder, even though she swayed on her feet after each crash.

  Billy grabbed Quentin’s arm and pulled him away from the door. Quentin snapped his sharpened mouth in the young scientist’s direction.

  “We have to get out of here,” Billy insisted. “We have to get back to The Board and tell them my version of the Blast worked.”

  Billy started toward the stairwell but didn’t take two steps before Quentin fluttered into his path.

  “My job isn’t to be a messenger boy for The Board.” He nodded toward the inside pocket of Billy’s lab coat. “You have the other two dosages?”

  Billy nodded. Quentin held out a feathered hand.

  “I think it’s best if the two dosages remain in my possession,” Quentin said. Billy stared at Quentin’s hand for a moment too long, his concentration broken when Quentin squawked at him. “I may act more civilized than my Aviary brethren, but I assure you I’m more than capable of shredding a human body as viciously as that woman did.”

  Billy swallowed hard before reaching into the inside pocket of his lab coat. He pulled out two more syringes, hesitated a moment, and then handed them over. The feathers on Quentin’s arms stood on end as a tiny chirp crept up the back of his throat.

  “Now go to the Descendant,” Quentin said, h
eading down the opposite direction of the hallway. He called back, “Keep her safe at all costs.”

  Billy watched him flitter down the hall, surprised at being left alone. Another loud bang at the door—joined by the loudest cracking yet—made Billy doubtful about protecting anyone from the monster he’d created.

  “I’m not a guard,” he called out.

  “Then go to the Board,” Quentin called back. “Tell them to assign enough guards to the Descendant so you have time to extract all of her bone marrow.”

  “But that would kill her,” Billy yelled. “And it wouldn’t be nearly enough marrow to create enough doses for everyone in The Mountain.”

  Billy waited for an answer but received none. He had so many more questions, but Quentin was nearly out of hearing range.

  “Where are you going?” Billy yelled.

  “To fulfill my destiny,” Quentin called back before disappearing around the turn in the hallway.

  With another crack at the nearby door, causing several splinters of wood to break free and skitter to the floor, Billy turned and ran into the stairwell.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The splintered door finally exploded to pieces, barely slowing Liv as she slammed against the wall across the hallway. Her body slumped to the floor, a pained caw echoing the length of the hall. Olly squeezed through the broken door and hurried to his mother, kneeling beside her. She turned her head and snapped, squawking loudly. He flinched but did not recoil. He stared into her red, glassy eyes and watched them slowly come into focus.

  “I am sorry, my Olly,” Liv said, raising a feathered hand toward his face. When she saw how long and sharpened her fingers had become, she frowned and lowered her hand. Instead, she curled her wingtip and gently touched the side of his head, chirping mournfully. “I never should’ve left you.”

  “You can make up for it by getting us both out of here,” Olly said.

  Liv chirped again and rose to her feet, wobbly until Olly took her by the elbow. Liv now towered over her son, but she looked down at him and smiled. Olly tried not to stare at the grotesque changes she’d gone through. Changes that were supposed to happen to me, he thought.

  A thunderous pop sounded from down the hallway, breaking eye contact between mother and son. A few feet beside them, a small divot appeared in the wall where the bullet had struck. They turned in unison to see a guard rushing toward them, the muzzle of his raised gun flashing again. Liv pushed Olly aside, knocking him to the floor as another bullet zipped between them. Though Olly hit down hard, he scurried back to his feet and pointed to the stairwell door nearby.

  “We have to get out of here before—”

  Liv flapped her wings and banked to the side, speeding down the tight confines of the hallway with grace and precision, each flap propelling her faster and faster. When the guard fired several more shots, Olly ducked and watched his mother in horror, expecting her to be shot out of the air. But she banked and rolled out of the way of each bullet, maneuvering with such skill that she appeared to have been an Aviary her entire life. The guard certainly didn’t expect Liv to reach him, and he cried out in fear and pain as she pounced. Olly watched his mother hunched over the guard, listening as the man’s screams turned to gurgles, and then as the gurgles turned to silence. Olly was glad his mother’s back remained turned to him, shielding him from seeing whatever carnage she created.

  When Liv finally stood tall, Olly saw her wings pulsing, as if trying to expel excess energy flowing through them. Olly hurried toward her, calling for her name. When she turned her head, Olly saw a flash of red on her face, not unlike how she’d looked after slaughtering the other two guards. She quickly turned the other way, curling a wingtip toward her face, wiping away blood and gore before bending over to flip the corpse facedown. Nothing, however, could be done about the pool of blood spreading across the floor.

  “Are you hurt?” Olly asked, stopping several feet back.

  Liv shook her head, wiping her face a final time before turning to Olly. He pretended not to notice the streaks of red still smeared across her cheeks.

  “We have to find our way out of here,” Liv said. “Get to the other vehicles and warn them to stay away.”

  “Where will we go?” Olly asked.

  Liv squawked, her eyes narrowing even more as she looked down in embarrassment. “Anywhere but here.”

  Olly knew she was right, but the idea of escaping The Mountain with only his mother filled his insides with sinking dread.

  “I have to find Emma.”

  “The girl you rescued from the Main Tunnel?” Liv chirped. “That’s why we have to get far away, so we can warn those in the vehicles to—”

  Olly shook his head. “That’s Paige. Emma must be the true Descendant. She also happens to be my. . .”—he looked down, his face turning red but not as red as the floor—“. . .my wife.” Liv’s next chirp contained no words, but it was clear she was questioning her son. “The Sky Person that infiltrated the City Below, he took her during the Tunnel War, just before the eruption, just before you opened The Fourth. Somehow, she ended up here.

  “I heard them talking about her. I heard them talking about draining her of. . . something, I don’t know specifics. I just know they’re going to kill her to make more injections like the one they gave you. We can’t let that happen.”

  “My only concern is keeping you safe,” Liv said.

  Olly’s jaw set, but he stopped from snapping at her. After what she’d done for him, Olly knew he could never snap at her again.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”

  Liv chirped but bobbed her head up and down. Olly glanced behind his mother, staring into the distance of the hall before turning back toward the stairwell door. “We need to find out which way the Sky Person went. Let’s try the stairs.”

  He didn’t make it a step toward the stairwell when Liv’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm, her sharp fingers digging into his flesh. She quickly eased her grip but didn’t let go. Before Olly could question why she stopped him, he saw her eyes close and her head lift as she began to sniff. Seconds later, her wings fluttered, and she turned in the opposite direction, hovering inches off the floor while pulling Olly around the dead guard.

  “The other. . . Sky Person, he’s this way.”

  “How do you know? You can smell him?” Olly asked.

  Liv couldn’t resist the urge to flap harder, and it wasn’t long before Olly had to run to keep up, his mother practically dragging him along. She shook her head.

  “He and I, we’re the same kind now,” she said. “I can sense him. . . and I can sense others like him nearby, too. I don’t know how, but I know where we have to go.”

  The Mountain’s interior was sprawling, and so many levels looked exactly the same. Despite spending the majority of his life in one small section of the City Below, Billy somehow had a good enough sense of direction to know where he was going. After being captured in the ground floor’s hangar bay, shuffled to a cell, taken to the Board’s meeting room and several laboratories, and then to inject one of the prisoners, he’d paid close attention to everywhere he’d been brought. Now that he was on his own, he was fairly certain he could find any place he’d seen so far.

  Father in the labs with the Descendant. . . my brothers and sister locked in the upper level room with the other human prisoners. . . the hangar and a possible escape route out of here. . .

  After separating from Quentin, he’d passed no other guards or Sky People in the stairwell and wondered if he’d ever get a better chance to escape. But a nagging voice in the back of his mind told him he’d proven himself worthy to the Board, that his Aviary Blast had worked and he had a major bargaining chip to use against them. Sure, he had a chance to collect his family and attempt escape now, but Billy’s mind was a scientific one and he quickly determined the probability of leaving The Mountain alive—and staying alive in the White Nothingness—was not high. Besides, the thought
of staying in the stairwell, alone, when the recently-injected female prisoner could have broken out frightened him to his core.

  He pulled open the stairwell door and entered a level with carpeting on the floor, better lighting than most of the facility and walls painted to hide the gray rock. Unfortunately, the paint and carpet were both lighter colors and did little to hide red stains splattered about. Though Billy regretted where he was going and what he was about to do, he walked quickly, trying to display the utmost confidence as he neared the large wooden door and the lone human guarding it.

  “Hold it right there,” the guard said, his hands shaky as he raised his weapon. “Why are you alone? Where’s Quentin?”

  “He sent me to address the Board, and the Board only,” Billy snapped at him.

  “How do I know you didn’t kill him?”

  “Would I have come here if I had?” Billy asked. When he tried to step around the guard to reach the door, the guard pressed the tip of his gun against Billy’s chest. Billy snickered. “If you want to destroy the only chance of Him ever returning, by all means pull the trigger and deal with the consequences. If not, step aside.”

  The guard’s eyes widened. The gun shook so much in his hands that Billy was afraid the man might pull the trigger by mistake. Billy slowly placed a hand on top of the gun and moved it aside. The guard stepped out of the way and Billy opened the door, hearing the squawk of angry voices before seeing the Board members squabbling among themselves. Several eyes turned in his direction, but the most fervent of arguments continued.

  “We already failed to kill Love once,” a Board member snapped. “For that, he attacked our guards and he’s trying to take away the Descendant. Now that he’s back in our possession, we must destroy him before he has another chance to turn on us.”

  “Trying to kill him was a mistake,” another argued. “We have to convince him it was a misunderstanding and get him back on our side.”