Flight (24 page)

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Authors: J.A. Huss

BOOK: Flight
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"It's my life."

"Whatever you say, Junco. You're right, it's your life."

"You can leave now."

He nods and gets up out of the chair. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow then.

 

 

 

I lie on the couch and absently watch the screen for a little while, thinking, trying to piece it all back together. The memories of my father are not helping because they clearly show he's not a monster. Maybe not quite a good guy, but there are certainly bigger, more dangerous things in the world than my father. And he saved me during my twelfth-year test. He saved me. And that was strictly against the rules. How many times did Matthew tell me what would happen if I lost during a test?

Too many to count. That I do remember.

And Lucan said they were tracking my adrenaline, not because I was sick, but so that I could fool the sensors at security checkpoints when I was on a mission. And that makes total sense. Even without verification, I feel that one to be one hundred percent true. So they all lied to me about that.

And Gideon said we're both Sevens. There are lots of Sevens. Which corroborates Isten's description of Iliana. She's not a clone. She's another Seven. A lone Seven. Like Gideon.

And my Aren. I feel the heat rise up in my face as I think about our last time together. He fought for me. Fought
Tier
for me, for fuck's sake. I'm not sure I'd fight Tier for anyone. I don't care if that Aren was a clone. He was the one who loved me. And Tier killed him.

I put a stop to the tears immediately. I don't have the luxury of crying right now. Either I figure out what's going on real fast or I'll be forced to make a choice that might have long-lasting consequences.

A strong knock sounds on my outer door. I drag myself up off the couch and open it up.

"Selia? What're you doing here?"

"Can I come in, Junco?"

"Sure." I wave her into the room and check the hallway outside real fast. There are two guards standing nearby who both give me a little wave. I've had guards all my life but none of them have ever waved at me before. I smile and wave back, then close the door.

Selia looks nervous as I direct her to sit. She takes the couch and I take the chair. "What's going on?"

I stare at the long scar that runs down the side of her head as she begins to talk. "Shit, I'm so glad you came here tonight. I thought for sure you'd be with that Tier guy and I'd never get a chance to talk to you before you left." She looks up at me, her expression is one of almost uncontrollable worry.

"What are you talking about?"

"Junco, there is a lot more to what's going on that I think you know. I've been told about the avian prophecy, the Seven Siblings they have, right? You guys are part of some long-ago punishment cycle. Mixing of the two species, man and bird? Right?"

I laugh. "Shit, Selia. I have no idea, really. I don't understand what's going on. Tier told me a story about that before we left for the Band, so maybe. It might be true, who knows."

"I've heard a similar story. In fact, most of them say that. But I've spent a lot of time traveling, Junco, looking into this myth they have, and that's not the whole story. There's another version." She stops talking and looks up at me.

"Say it, Selia. Just say it."

"That Lucan guy? I don't know him and you do, so of course you'll have to consider that. But he's the one responsible for all this. He's not human and–"

"Selia, tell me something I don't know, OK? I can't do this right now."

She laughs a little, but it's not a happy laugh. It's an uncomfortable one. "We have records of this event, Junco. Ancient written records. And there is a myth about you Seven, but it says a whole lot of things that you don't seem to be aware of."

"Like what?" I lean back in the chair, too tired to sit up straight.

Her face goes flat as the words spill out. "They need the six of you, to fix their genetics, that's true. But here on Earth, you guys aren't the Seven Siblings. You're the Seven Evil Demons. Because if your clutch is the one that makes it, then you, the Seventh demon, have to choose between humans and avians. You have to choose. And the one that doesn't get chosen? That species is annihilated. Wiped out.

Seven siblings of the aftermath,

Seven siblings created by death,

Six avian children of light,

All are guilty of the fall,

The seventh castaway in flight,

Mixing blood perpetual,

Making monsters that transcend,

Until the seventh brings the end.
"

"I've read that before, Selia."

"I wasn't done.

Seven siblings of the wide heavens,

Seven siblings of the broad earth,

Seven robber-gods are they.

Seven evil gods,

Seven evil demons,

Seven to break heaven and earth,

The Seventh acting as the pawn,

Burning one into extinction.

"The myth I found on Earth describes the seven of you as a whole list of bad things – a snake, leopard that eats children, charging rampant, a southern storm. That's Moju because he's the One."

"What am I?"

"You're the Wind of Vengeance because you're the Seven. You and Moju are the beginning and the end, like a cycle."

"Well, that's awesome."

"Moju thinks Esta is the Four – the Terrible Serpent Weapon. And he says Soli is the Two, so she's the Dragon that Eats the World." I swallow but stay silent as she continues. "This is the end, Junco. Do you see? This is the end. And you get to choose.
Us or them
."

Us or them. That's been a question since this whole affair began, hasn't it. Who is us and who is them? I asked Aren that out on the scrub. And it was him and me against the world from the way he told it.

I get up and pace the small room, suddenly feeling trapped. I want her to go away but she's still fucking talking.

"Lucan. I admit I don't know him, so whatever. You do. But he's the reason for all of this, Junco. He's the one who caused the Fall."

"It's Biblical? Do they think this is the Biblical End Times? That Lucan is – what? The Fallen Archer?" I get sick just thinking about it.

"The what?"

I shake my head to clear it. "Sorry, I mean the fallen
angel
?"

She shrugs. No help at all. "I'm an atheist, Junco. There is no such thing as a fallen angel. The world might end, but it's not because God is gonna come back to earth and smite us. And I don't think you'll bring the end of the world either, I just want you to know what's going on. You're the center of all this. You. So, ya know, be careful."

"I've had enough tonight, Selia."

She takes the hint and pulls the door closed behind her, leaving me alone to think about angels and demons and the end of the world all by myself. I don't even undress, I just lie on the bed and count myself until my eyes are so tired the whole nightmare falls away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

My snow boots are making puddles on the tile floor of my camp room. If Maggie comes in and sees the mess she might punish me. My head hurts. I look up at the clock and work out what the big and little hands mean. 9:00 and it's dark so that means it's PM, not AM. PM means predators out until morning. So that's nighttime.

My winter coat is bunched up around my hips and my scarf is still wrapped tightly around my face. My breath passes through the fabric of the soft cloth, making it wet.

But I don't care.

I swallow as my stomach rumbles again. It's been doing that since we left the ski resort. Since Mom was taken away. Her eyes looked a little scared, but Mom never gets scared. This makes my stomach tighten so much I lean over and wait for it.

I swallow the spit that gathers under my tongue as I think about throw-up. The sweat rolls down my back and makes my waistband wet. I should just go outside. I'd be just as wet out there in the snow as I would in here wrapped up in my own heat.

I hear Gideon's door across the hall. I get up quickly and rush over and press my palm against the biometric pad on the doorknob.

It flashes red at me.

Locked in.

I swallow again.

Gideon? I need you.

Hold on, Snowbird. I'll be in soon. Take off your winter gear and lie down.

A tear falls out of my eye and I wipe it away so my alarm won't go off. I don't want to see anyone. No one but Gideon tonight.

I unwrap the scarf and the cool air rushes in so I take a deep breath and enjoy it. Gid says when things feel good I should enjoy it, because there'll be lots of times when things will feel bad and I can think about something good when that happens. It's like collecting good things up and saving them for later.

I memorize the feeling of cool air rushing in on my face to take the heat away. It's small, probably won't help much, but maybe. You never know. Plus, maybe if I remember a bunch of little good things all at the same time, then it will take away one bigger bad thing? I'll have to ask Gideon about that later.

I slip off my boots next and put them on the mat by my door. I grab a dirty shirt from the laundry basket and wipe the puddle they made next to my bed.

Finally I take off the coat and hang it up on the knob above the boot mat.

And I sit back on the bed, unwrapped, and swallow.

I can still hear them yelling out in the big room.

Mostly it's my dad, but some of it is Dale and some of it is Matthew. James never yells, but that doesn't mean he's not mad. He's sneaky like that.

I hear the biometrics click and Gideon walks in my room and closes the door behind him. "You OK?"

"Am I OK?"

He laughs. "I asked you the question, Junco. You have to answer, not ask another one."

"I'm OK."

He comes to sit on my bed. He's wearing the t-shirt I made him for his birthday last week. It says,
God Loves Twelve-Year-Olds
. I wanted him to know God loves him because he never gets to go to church and hear it for himself.

He looks down on me, his eyes darting to mine, then to the side as he listens to the yelling outside my door. "Do you need to talk?"

I swallow and the tears leak out. "I did something very bad, Gideon."

He hugs me and I feel his chest go up and down. I lean my head against it and listen for his heartbeat. "You weren't bad, Junco. They aren't yelling about what you did. That was an order, remember?"

"It doesn't matter if it was an order, Gid. It was bad. God will never–"

"God has nothing to do with this, Junco. Nothing. You can't live by God's rules. You can't. It's impossible. If you try they will kill you. Do you want to live?"

I push away and look up at his face. "Yes."

"Then you will follow orders until I tell you it's safe to stop, you got it?"

I swallow down the spit that's collecting in my mouth again.

"God knows it's not your fault, Junco. God knows." He pulls me against him again. "You're not bad." He says it more to himself than he does to me.

"I'm just like a lion, Gideon. I do what prairie lions do out on the scrub. I kill."

"The lion has to kill, Junco. If the lion stopped killing it would die. Do you want to die?"

I shake my head as I lean into him. "I'll be a lion if I can live."

He sighs. "It's OK to be the lion, Junco. It's OK. I'm the wolf, remember?"

I nod my head. "I'm the lion and you're the wolf."

"And we're the same, remember? We're in this together."

"I remember."

"And the lions aren't bad, ya know. The wolves either. They're just trying to eat when they kill. It's natural what they do."

"But it's not natural for me."

"It is too, Junco. You aren't killing to eat, no. But you're still killing to live. It's the same thing. If you said no what would've happened?"

"Punishment."

"And if you said no too many times? What would happen?"

"Death."

"So, you have to say yes. One day, Juncs, you will be big and you can say no. OK?"

"But you're big." I push back and look up to his face.

He laughs. "Not really, Junco. Twelve might seem big to you now, because you're only six. But twelve is small. You'll see. When you get to be twelve you'll see that twelve isn't big."

"Do lions even live to be twelve?"

"Lions and wolves live the same amount of time and we're gonna live long lives. Away from here. We just have to wait. We just have to wait until the time is right. One day we'll both be big and we'll be all finished with training and we can leave."

"Do you promise?"

We hear the loud thud of boots as they approach my door, then watch the biometrics light up on the doorknob. I feel Gideon's heart pound and mine follows along, helpless to make it stop.

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