Damselfly (23 page)

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Authors: Jennie Bates Bozic

BOOK: Damselfly
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He bristles. “You’re acting like I owe you some sort of explanation. I don’t. This is your crackpot idea. You go ahead if you want.”

Speechless, I lean back against my hands. The grit from the roof digs into my palms, but I don’t move. He’s never talked to me like this before. I didn’t even know this side of him existed.

I swallow my irritation and shock and manage to speak evenly. “I’m surprised that the guy who snuck out of his hotel room in Hawaii is too chicken to go investigate a situation that could hurt other people.”

“Think about it, Lina. If they’re experimenting on animals or even people… Do you really want to see that?”

“Wow, is that how you stay so cheerful? Do you ignore anything that’s evil or ugly?”

He stands and shakes off his pants. “Yeah, okay, I’m done here. I’ll see you inside.”

He’s actually leaving. What a coward. “That’s right. Just walk away and keep on smiling!” I shout after him.

Without so much as a reply or backward glance, he launches himself off the roof and disappears.

“Coward,” I hiss. “Freaking coward.” I smack my fist against the roof.

Well, if he won’t come with me, I’ll go by myself. I’ll wait until everyone is sleeping, and then I’ll investigate. My pulse quickens as I make my decision, and I smile maniacally into the darkness. The last time I went to the research building, I ended up having to escape. Now I’m going to break in.

***

I lie on my couch with my feet toward the window. It’s hard to believe I came crashing through that glass only a month ago, but I found a shard of it in the cushions when I first laid down. I nearly skewered my arm on it but luckily came away with only a small cut.

I hold the glittering shard to the candlelight and turn it around and around, remembering my broken computer. Ages have passed since I last spoke with Jack. Will I ever get to talk to him again? The familiar emptiness yawns open in my gut, stretching itself ever wider until I’m breathless from the ache. My desk looks so very empty without my monitor, without Jack’s face smiling at me from the screen. I didn’t realize how lonely I was before I met him, but now that I’m lying in this silent room, my aloneness is hard to ignore. It presses in on me from all sides.

About three months ago, while training with George, one of the other falcons (not Petunia—she was injured at the time) managed to grab hold of my right foot. He whipped me around so hard I almost blacked out. George caught up and hooded him just as I saw that horrible blunted beak aiming at my head. I looked that bird square in the eye, and I thought that maybe if I was brave and sure enough, I could win, I could scare him off. I thought I was still invincible.

But I was wrong. The only thing that could reign in the creature was force, and if George hadn’t gotten there in time… A broken ankle and lots of cuts and bruises were the extent of my injuries, but it could have been much, much worse.

That night, I was so shaken I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t the pain that kept me awake or even the danger I’d avoided. It was the fact that I knew there was nothing I could have done to escape. Even with all my training and all of my education, my best simply wasn’t good enough. It was the first time I’d ever experienced hopelessness.

Jack had known something was wrong when I talked to him later, but I couldn’t articulate what was going on inside me without revealing my secret. I told him I was bitten by a dog and broke my ankle when I ran away, but my explanation didn’t cover why I was so profoundly affected by the whole incident. That night, he insisted he would stay by his computer and watch over me while I slept on the sofa.

“But that’s ridiculous,” I said. “Even if something happened, what would you do?”

He held up his phone. “I’ve got the Danish police on speed dial right now.”

“Which address will you send them to?”

“I’ll have them look up your IP address.”

I had to give it to him. It was actually a clever plan, and it didn’t involve me divulging where I lived, which was something I refused to do. So I told him to wait a moment and I snapped the lens cover onto the camera. After I’d changed into my pajamas and cloaked my wings with my blanket, I uncovered the lens and curled into a ball on the couch. He leaned back against his chair and pulled out one of his well-worn paperbacks and began to read.

“What—you’re not going to watch me?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought that would be a little creepy.”

“I’m kidding.”

“I’m Jack NO stalk, remember?”

I smiled and snuggled down into the cushions without ever taking my gaze off of him. He checked on me now and again, then went back to his book. I fell asleep imagining he was really right there in the room with me. It was such a comforting thought that I dozed right off.

Tonight, the ache subsides as I remember how it felt to fall asleep knowing someone was watching out for me. I cling to that small, slippery bit of happiness and slip into sleep.

I dream of strange things. Bears with bat wings and crocodile tails who have the souls of humans. I am one of them, and I keep screaming to Jack that it’s me! It’s really me! But everything I say comes out as a deafening roar and he runs away. I chase him and chase him, but then I realize he will never stop running. He will never love me this way. But I can’t stop trying. I have to get him to
see
it’s me.

So I follow him pell-mell down a path by a creek. The rushing water drowns out all of my roars, but finally, I’m able to corner him and I’m so full of joy that now he has to listen to me. He has no choice. I open my mouth to speak, but he covers his ears and screams. It’s such a strange sound. Muffled and small, as though it’s coming from a long way away. But he’s right here in front of me. He screams again, and something doesn’t seem quite right. I listen harder. Another cry.

I awake into darkness. It takes me a moment to figure out where I am because the candle has long since blinked out. I lie there, motionless and covered in sweat. My dress sticks to my legs and back, so I peel it away to let the cool night air from the open window work its magic.

There it is again. I wasn’t dreaming the scream. The sound of an animal crying in pain raises all the hair on my body.

I bolt off the couch and fumble around on the desk for the old watch face I use as a clock. 12:42 AM. It’s time to go and investigate.

My heart thuds against my ribs as I change into darker clothes. I’m not even sure if it makes sense to wear black to go search in a laboratory, but it’s the most logical choice and I can’t think of anything else to wear. I hold a white shirt against my skin and check myself out in the mirror. Maybe white really would be a better camouflage.

And then it strikes me how utterly absurd it is that I’m debating what to wear at
this
moment. Of all times. I toss the white shirt on the bed and head out the door.

I fly through the branches of the trees, mimicking the flight of a bird. No one would ever guess it was me, even if they were looking hard. Every so often I pause and listen, but I don’t hear the cries of agony anymore.

The research building is too well-lit for me fly in from the side without being spotted, so I climb high into the sky and cut over to land on the roof. Once I’m there, I crouch down and hold my wings flat. There’s no disguising their iridescent blue, so if anyone spots me, it’s going to be because of them. I run around the edge, taking care not to kick any loose bits of dirt into the gutter.

I don’t see anyone. I don’t hear anyone either. The silence seems too absolute. Almost eerie. The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and I get the distinct feeling I’m being watched. Slowly, I turn around.

Along the ridge of the roof, a pair of wings flick up and then flash out of sight, but I can still see the silhouette of their owner against the moonlit sky. The person’s build could belong to Row or maybe Shrike even. Whoever it is, they know I’ve seen them.

What to do? Try to sneak around and figure out who it is first or take the direct approach?

Well, I’ve never been a subtle sort of girl. I crouch down and then sprint forward, all muscles engaged for maximum speed. My target is slow to react, but he doesn’t even try to fly. He stands and steps tentatively away.

It’s Row.

I glare at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard the screams, and I changed my mind,” he says sheepishly.

“And you didn’t even bother to come and get me. How long have you been here?”

“I’ve already scouted it. There’s no way in and all the lights are off.”

“You checked all the windows, all the doors?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Lina. I’m not an idiot.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I was having doubts about that earlier.” He winces at the low blow, but it feels so good to deliver it. “I’m going to have a look myself if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll come with you.”

It’s a long shot, but I’m hoping the mouse hole I used to escape last time is still there.

And…no, it’s not. The underside of the porch is even swept clean of the mouse droppings I fell into.

“Shoot,” I whisper. “Wait, I have an idea. This way.”

On the other side is the women’s bathroom, and as it happens, Jane has a tendency to leave it open. She’s got the worst stomach problems in the compound, and she gets really embarrassed about it, so she cracks the window to air the place out.

We’re in luck. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but it’s open all right.

“I don’t know how I missed that,” Row says with a nervous laugh.

I have a theory that he didn’t actually want to see it because then he wouldn’t have to go inside, but it’s probably best I don’t tell him that.

I grab hold of the inside ledge and hoist myself through the crack. Halfway through, something snags, and I hear a sound like the tearing of paper accompanied by a pain so sharp I can feel it all along my spine. I hold my breath, my heart pounding.

“Row,” I whisper through clenched teeth. “I’m stuck. My wings are caught.” I bite my lip and squeeze the tears out of my eyes. “I think I tore one.”

I feel him next to me, investigating the situation, and I hope with all my being it’s not a bad tear. A small hole isn’t a big deal, although I won’t fly as fast, but a big one… That could ground me until I get medical attention. Which means asking Dr. Christiansen for help and she’ll want to know how I did it. I sigh and hang on tighter. My arms are burning from holding myself so still.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is grim. “Hang on, let me get you unsnagged. Don’t let go.”

I wince as he fumbles some more, and then the pulling sensation goes away. Most of the pain leaves, too, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“How bad is it?”

“About an inch. I’ll have to carry you.”

I groan. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. You’re lucky you didn’t rip one of the major veins.”

“Lucky” isn’t a word I would use right now.

“I’ll carry you down to the ground, and you can try to fly if you want. Maybe you still can.”

He holds my waist as I slide through the crack.

“Easy,” he says. “I don’t want you to fall.”

“That makes two of us.”

He chuckles softly, and I wrap my arm around his neck once I’m all the way through. He holds me tightly to himself, and even though I try to look casual by turning my head away, I can still feel the heat from his muscular body through my clothes. My cheeks flush so hot I am almost certain he can see me blushing even though it’s dark.

“Hang on,” he says as he squeezes me even tighter and pushes off the wall. He sets me down on the ground and backs away.

I extend my wings and check for the tear. One section flaps like a flag in the wind. I flutter as hard as I can, but I can’t get enough oomph to get off the ground. It’s not going to happen.

“Well,” Row says. “It’s a good thing I decided to come tonight after all.”

I imagine myself hanging from the window all night, unable to get down or to crawl inside, and I shudder. “Yeah, I’m really glad you did.”

“Shall I take you home?”

“I suppose.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Why are you upset? There’s nothing else we can do here now.”

“I really wanted to look around because I thought it was the right thing to do. I know there’s nothing I can do about it now, but I reserve the right to be disappointed anyway.”

“Or you could decide to look on the bright side, even though it’s hard. It’s up to you how much you allow ugly, evil things to affect how you feel.”

“Okay, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“Well, you were sort of right and that’s why I came.”

“Thanks.”

He holds out his arms, and I wrap my arm around his neck again. He hoists me up princess-style and carries me toward home.

It’s so strange to allow him to do the flying for me, knowing I will fall to my death if he lets go. I lay my head against his shoulder and try to relax, but I can’t stop thinking about my wings. The last thing I want to do is ask Dr. Christiansen for help. She’ll want to know how I tore it, and I’m a rotten liar. I could ask George to fix it. He’s repaired the wings of several birds…

George is gone.
The realization is a punch in the gut. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to get used to his absence. That yawning ache opens again in my stomach, and I hold my breath, waiting for the pain to ease.

“Ouch. You’ve got some strong fingers.”

“What? Oh.” I’ve been unwittingly digging my fingers into the side of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“Anything on your mind?”

Tears spring into my eyes, and I swallow down the sob pushing its way against my throat. “Yeah,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I’m tired of losing people. And I’m trying so hard to be brave, but I’m nothing more than a chicken most of the time. A very small chicken.”

He laughs just as another muffled scream comes from the buildings behind us. It wails into the night and then suddenly stops midway through as though someone cut away its owner’s life.

“Row,” I whisper.

“I know.” He turns around and flies back but stops short of the building and lands high in the branches of a tree.

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