"You haven't seen a tree until you've seen its shadow from the sky." -Amelia Earhart
[ C H A P T E R S I X ]
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A man stood in the doorway, shrugging on his winter coat. His hard gray eyes betrayed nothing of the turmoil raging within him. He searched his pack one final time to make certain that his belongings were in check. He paused when he came across a photograph of a little girl: his daughter.
“Daddy, where are you going?”
He turned around to face the ten-year-old girl standing behind him. He hadn’t even heard her approach. Her beautiful blonde hair was tied back in a sloppy ponytail; her steely gaze was laced with suspicion. She had gotten that stare from him.
The man ran his fingers through locks of unkempt hair, the only outward sign of his distress. “I didn’t see you there, sweetheart…”
“Why are you leaving?” she pressed. “You don’t have to work today.”
“I’m going on a little business trip,” he lied.
“When will you be back?”
A lump formed in the man’s throat. “…Soon.”
The girl’s mouth twitched into a wry smile. “So you were gonna leave without giving me a hug?”
He forced himself to embrace his daughter, unsure if he could let go when the time came. He wanted to remember this forever – her warmth, the smell of her hair, the way she held onto him with impossible strength.
“I’ll miss you, daddy.”
She would never see him again.
I open my eyes slowly, staring at the stark white wall in front of me. Tears cloud my vision. I don’t bother blinking them away. Instead, I sink into my pillow and just lie there for a while.
I am genuinely surprised at my inability to move. I haven’t had a dream like that in months. …No, it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. I thought I was over my father’s death, but I suppose the memories of his final departure will never cease to haunt me.
I should get out of bed, I think to myself. But I can’t – my mind is laden with grief.
After several minutes of wallowing in self-pity, I manage to roll over and peer at my alarm clock. It’s not even four in the morning. This realization makes me want to sink even further into my mattress, but I know that lying still will do me no good. Sleep is proving elusive.
Despite my body’s protests, I slip out from under the covers and haul myself into a sitting position. I stretch my wings and yawn. Perhaps a good nighttime flight will help me relax.
My bedroom window has a hinged sash that swings in and out like a door. I open it carefully, not wanting to wake my mother. She does not approve of noise in the wee hours of the morning, especially if that noise indicates my leaping from a two-story building.
I stick my head out and inhale the warm night air. It has a peculiar calming effect, and I already feel my worries beginning to drift away. Without further hesitation, I hold out my arms and jump. The air whips past my face; the ground rushes towards me at sickening speeds. Then, at the last possible moment I snap out my ghost wings. I brush the grass with my fingers before sailing up out of gravity’s reach.
Before I leave, I circle back to my bedroom window and close it. I don’t want any bugs getting in.
Rather than flying over the city, I dip one wing and make a wide turn in the opposite direction. I flap my wings to gain altitude. Inhale, down. Exhale, up. I hardly have to think about pumping to the familiar rhythm. Within seconds, I am tearing through the sky at well over one hundred miles per hour.
I don’t slow my pace until I am over an empty cornfield. Only then do I relax, taking pleasure in the caresses of crisp morning air against my skin. I see a soft fog settling over the ground below and tilt my wings downward. Diving toward the earth like a torpedo, I giggle as droplets of water cling to my face. Then I stretch my wings and, with a single powerful flap, I am arcing out of the low-hanging clouds and back into the sky.
Despite my dampened pajamas, I am giddy with delight. Swooping through the atmosphere, dictated by nothing but my own whims… It never fails to considerably brighten my mood.
I inhale deeply and shoot straight up like a rocket, gaining as much altitude as I possibly can in one breath. When the air begins to thin, I stop and hover in place. Ordinary birds cannot fly in one place for more than a few moments; however, since my abilities are powered by thought I can will myself to levitate. Granted, this trick takes a lot of energy. I’ve been practicing lately to develop more endurance.
It is still dark enough to see the stars. I lean backwards until I am quite literally lying on a bed of air, observing the night sky from a better angle. Beads of sweat begin to form on my face, but I focus my attention on the crescent moon. With my advanced eyesight, I can see the craters in great detail.
While staring off into space (quite literally), an object enters my peripheral vision. I turn my head and squint, trying to see it more clearly. It looks like a bird. I’m unsure of what species it is, but it looks pretty big. In fact, it keeps on getting bigger. With a jolt, I realize that the bird is rapidly flying towards me.
It is then that I spot a flash of skin in the moonlight – a foot.
Birds don’t have feet like that…
Of course, a gust of wind decides to ram into me at that exact moment. The squall, combined with my astonishment at seeing a human foot attached to a bird, causes me to lose my concentration. I plummet like a brick.
There are few things more terrifying than falling. What’s worse? Falling headfirst.
I swiftly regain my bearings and spin so I am facing the earth. Bad decision. Now I get to watch the ground speed up to meet me. Instead of hurling like I want to, I unfurl my wings with as much force as I can muster. They yank me upward, pulling me so I am horizontal to the land below. I flap hard and break the fall by propelling myself forward. Skimming over the field, I realize just how close I was to death. Two more seconds and I would have been a pancake.
I look up, searching for the “bird.” Eventually, I spot it and surge up to intercept. I can now identify the creature as female. She catches sight of me and backpedals sharply; her hair – I can’t tell what color – whips across her face like a mask. She beats her wings and scrambles in the other direction. I don’t hesitate to give chase.
“Hey!” I yell over the wind. “I just want to talk to you!” I receive no response.
We tear through the sky like maniacs. The girl throws glances behind her from time to time to see if I am still on her. Fear fuels her escape, but I am steadily closing the distance between us. When it comes down to sheer speed, I have no rivals.
A word of advice: don’t race a peregrine.
Within a few minutes, I am almost close enough to grab her foot. I extend my arm, reaching for her toes… and she disappears. I am momentarily disoriented, searching the clouds for any sign of the girl. Then I look down and see her barreling toward the earth. I tuck in my wings and dive-bomb after her. I am on her within seconds, but she abruptly changes direction (again) and gains altitude. I extend my wings and spin around to face her, losing precious time. This girl is slippery.
I resume the chase with even greater determination, but I am beginning to tire. I can’t fly at full speed for extended periods of time, and that levitation trick I pulled earlier is really taking its toll. The girl, however, appears more exhausted than me. She obviously isn’t built for speed. Still, her erratic flight patterns indicate that she is extremely agile.
I notice that we are now soaring over the city. Excellent. I know this place like the back of my hand. I pour on the speed and fly above the girl, planning to drop down on her like a giant spider. She senses my presence and tilts her wings, veering sharply to the right and ducking behind a skyscraper. I follow suit, still planning on using my height advantage.
Suddenly, the girl folds her wings against her back and dives again. I plunge after her. This time I am careful to prepare for unexpected turns. As anticipated, she rolls off to the side, but I copy her movements with a simple stroke. Then I stretch out my arms and lunge.
She’s gone.
I skid to a halt and whip around, searching for my prey. I don’t have to look long. She is hovering right in front of me.
“Why are you running?” I pant, clutching my side and floating in place. I move my wings in little figure-eights so I’m not relying entirely on my brain.
The girl only chuckles. Her hair, which I can now identify as a chocolate brown, is still veiling her eyes. The rest of her face is covered with a black scarf. Her wings are a russet brown with black barring and white flecks. She reminds me of a goshawk.
“You know,” I continue, “this is my territory. If you don’t start talking, I’m going to have to catch you.”
She remains silent and beckons me with her finger. Even through her scarf, I can tell that the girl is smirking.
Challenge accepted. I dart forward intending to introduce the punk to my fist, but I end up punching thin air. Swiveling around, I see that she has somehow gotten behind me. I swipe at her again and miss. A hand taps my shoulder, but when I pivot in a flurry of spinning kicks she’s already repositioned herself. I attack behind me with a donkey kick, but the girl dives under me and pops up at my front.
Christ, this child is a freaking ninja!
Snarling, I lash out with my elbow. This time my attack gets her in the gut. She gasps for breath, her wings crinkle and she drops like a stone.
Even though she is my opponent, I can’t very well let the girl plummet to her doom. I swoop down after her and grab her arm, hoisting her out of harm’s way.
“Are you all right?”
The girl stares down at the busy street below and sighs a breath of relief. Then she trains her sights on me. We appraise each other for several moments, contemplating our predicament. She suddenly gets a mischievous glint in her eye and uses her free hand to pinch my arm.
“Ow!” I hiss, loosening my grip for a split second. “You’re welco-”
The girl surges upward and socks me in the face, wrenching herself from my grasp. I wheel backward, stunned. She hadn’t even hit me that hard and I was seeing spots. She comes at me again and delivers a swift kick between my shoulder blades, causing me to fall.
That bitch! I think, recovering and letting my wings catch the air like parachutes. I won’t make the mistake of helping her again. Cursing bitterly under my breath, I rocket after my assailant. She is already fleeing.
That’s right. You’d better run.
She weaves between buildings, banking sharply every time I get close. When she finally stops, I charge – only to find that she has flown under me and changed direction. I scream in frustration. I know that this game of tag is pointless; there is no way I can catch her before the sun comes up. Nevertheless, I loop back around and keep pursuing her.
Eventually, I realize that we are getting very close to the bad part of town. We’re too high up to be seen by the drunks and druggies, but the gears in my head are beginning to turn. What if I could use this terrain against the girl?
I continue to stay on her tail, but I am careful to stay back enough that she won’t feel the need to trick me. When she looks like she is about to turn, I herd her back on course. I want to steer her toward the back alleys, and I want us to be flying low.
I close my eyes and listen as hard as I can. Every sound around me contributes to my mental map. I can tell where the girl is, where buildings are, and – most importantly – where the addicts are hanging out. After about ten seconds of intense concentration, I sense a group of people up ahead. There are two men and two women. All of them sound heavily intoxicated.
I accelerate and compel the bird girl to keep flying closer to the drunks. She obviously has not heard them yet. I wait several seconds before beating my wings and ascending rapidly. I tilt my body to the left and find myself maneuvering through dilapidated apartment complexes. Spotting the nearest alley up ahead, I alight on the roof next to it. Then I wait.
Mere moments later, the girl hears the drunken gang and veers to the left. Just as I predicted, she turns into my alley. I dive straight down and intercept, shoving her shoulder and sending her reeling into a brick wall. She cries out in pain and sinks to the ground.
I don’t have much energy left to restrain her, but she doesn’t have much left in her either. I lower myself to the floor and sit against the opposite wall, taking this opportunity to catch my breath. We have reached a stalemate.
“You’re… really something…,” I choke. I massage my aching muscles and wait for a response.
The girl’s eyes are closed. She doesn’t speak.
“Hey,” I prod, “you’re not fooling me. I know you’re awake.”
I lean over and poke her leg. She bats my hand away and groans, but her eyes stay closed. Maybe she thinks I will be able to identify her if she opens them. That also may be why she hasn’t uttered a word.
I throw up my hands in exasperation. “Look, I chased you all this way. The least you can do is tell me your name!”
The girl coughs and adjusts her scarf. She slowly gets to her feet and begins to lope out of the alley.
“Hey!” I holler after her, springing up and snatching her arm. The girl sways and tries to pry herself from my grip, but it’s no use. She is not leaving until I get some answers. She seems to realize this and gives in, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
She pulls down her scarf and opens her mouth. “I-”
BANG! Whatever she was about to say is shattered by gunfire. A glowing green bullet whizzes past us, narrowly missing my ear.
Hang on… A glowing bullet? What the hell?
The girl’s exhaustion instantly vanishes. She jerks away from me, unfurling her wings and leaping into the air. She says one word:
“Run.”
The alley explodes with the firing of another bullet. I throw myself to the ground, barely dodging the attack. The bird girl is long gone. I am on my own.
I waste no more time in whipping out my ghost wings and jumping into the sky. A third projectile sails just under my feet and hits the wall behind me, bursting into a lime green inferno. I am thrown forward by its shockwave and smack my face on a roof. I lift a tentative finger to my cheek and find that I am bleeding. Shit.
I stumble to my feet and dash forward, propelling myself from the roof with a powerful flap. Bang bang bang! Bullets riddle the air around me. If I didn’t possess my inhuman speed, I’d be toast. I tap into my stores of adrenaline and flee like a racehorse on crack.
Before I am out of range, I manage to glance back at my assailant. I can’t see him very well, even with my vision. He seems to be shrouded in darkness. He faces me and raises his gun.
I take that as my cue to leave. I dig deep, searching for my inner falcon. Revving up, I charge ahead at my maximum speed: two hundred miles per hour. Then I’m gone, leaving the mysterious man to eat my dust.
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Whoa, what a twist! :O
Anyway, the main point of this author's note is to ask for help picking a cast. If you can think of any real-life actors who would suit my characters well, please leave a comment saying so. Not that this would ever be a movie, but... you know. Do it for the awesome. >:D