Page 7 of Scars Like Wings
Two.
Three.
Too many for comfort.
I wanted to step over to the edge of the tower to see where the hunters were. But I was terrified. What if they saw me? I had nowhere to run if they did. I wouldn’t be able to make it past them if I tried, anyway. Plus, the cutting pain in my back was spreading. My legs could barely hold me up. Who’s to say I would even be able to run? Waiting, I willed my body to remain as still as the rose quartz behind me. The only thing that calmed me at all was the presence of that voice, warm and comforting like the quartz.
Finally, a male voice, deep but muffled through a mask, cut through the silence. It was different from the earlier stern voice. “Are you sure, sir? We have made contact with the fledgling, and we’re moving in on her position.”
A pause. My breathing seemed too loud. My hands shook again.
“Copy that, sir.” Loudly, to the entire cave, he said to the others, “Let’s move out.”
“But she’s right there, I’m sure of it,” one of the other men argued. “We are so close, and we already lost three good folks to this monster alone!”
I shivered and blinked back tears.Lost three folks. I did that. I killed?—
You did what had to be done to stay alive. You are innocent. They don’t deserve your tears. Remember what they did to your mother. I nodded to myself, agreeing with the voice.
A woman spoke up. “Yeah, imagine, the pay for two of them! She’s so young, too?—”
The deep-voiced man interrupted, “You have your orders from Safari.Move.Out.”
Footsteps crunched in the cave once more. I could hear groans as the hunters gathered their companions. After a lot of rustling, the footsteps and pained voices receded.
I waited. I waited for much longer than I probably needed to. I waited until I got dizzy from holding my breath for so long. I waited until I had counted to one-hundred. Then I counted to one-hundred again.
At last, when I knew beyond a doubt that the coast was clear, the crystal swords were allowed to fall from the air. They shattered when they hit the ground below. It sounded like rain on a windshield.
I slumped, finally allowing myself to feel exhausted. The quartz was cozily warm against my achy back and shoulders. The cuts and bruises on my legs, arms, and hands were throbbing. I was tired, and all I wanted to do was fall asleep in my bed, to wake up from this nightmare of a day.
I wanted to go home. I was so hungry. I was so worn out. But what if the hunters were waiting outside the cave for me to appear? What if they were ordered to retreat from the cave, but there were some stationed outside, waiting for me to come out? Plus, the ravine was about two and a half miles from my house. I wouldn’t be able to walk there, not right now with how ragged I felt. Let alone run if I needed to.
If they return, we will do what it takes to survive.
I lifted my mom’s pendant to my lips and gripped it with both hands. And then I waited.
After what felt like days of waiting and me straining my ears to hear anything apart from the waterfall, I heard a voice from the entrance of the cavern. This one, though, was familiar and warm.
Immediately, I was put at an ease I hadn’t felt since I left Uncle Ever’s SUV.
“Byrdie! Baby Byrd, where are you? Can you hear me?”
“Pops? Pops!” I called out. I flinched at my scratchy voice. My muscles complained from being in the same position for too long. I wobbled on, my feet and legs numb. I gained more feeling and sureness with each step. I slid down the slanted pillar. My legs cried out when I made it to the bottom, but I didn’t care. I got right back up. I pushed my legs to go forward, to make it to the entrance of the cavern. I called out for Pops the entire way, past the shattered quartz, past the bloodstains on the cavern floor, past this now-tainted place.
In the light of the quartz, I could see Pops was still in his black police uniform for the City Enforcer Department, a special division of the local police made specifically for supernatural beings. His long, thick black locs were twisted back into a ponytail, and he had a well-trimmed beard. If Uncle Everett was built like a lacrosse player, Pops was built like a running back. He was tall, gigantic, and full of muscles. His skin was lighter than my mother’s dark sepia, his being a rich taupe instead. Both Mom and Pops looked as gorgeous as celebrities, and their love for each other was like something from a fairytale. Whereas Mom could walk into a room and immediately make everyone laugh, Pops could read a room immediately and just “get” people. He was cool and calculated with a quick wit from being well-read and making me and Mom watchJeopardyevery night. Mom was fun, free, and a forever party who always knew what to do and say. But Pops was my protector, my secret karaoke partner, and someone I could go to when I just needed a listening ear rather than someone to take action.
I practically fell into his arms when I finally reached him. Without hesitation, his large muscular arms wrapped around me. His tight hug alone made me feel like the last half of my day hadn’t happened. He smelled of sage, rosemary, and citrus, just like home. I fell apart.
“Dad!” I never called him that. “I don’t know what happened. Mom’s hurt! And Uncle Everett is missing! There were these hunters. She looked hurt real bad, and she was partially turned. So, she told me to run, so I ran away?—”
“I know, baby girl. I know everything. You’re safe now, baby Byrd. I got you.”
We’ll always keep you safe because we’ll always be around for you.
I finally gave into the breakdown that had been building since I entered the house. My shoulders shook, causing more irritation to my pained back. I soaked Pops’ uniform with my tears and snot and spit. The only time I breathed was when I coughed through wails of heartache. I was inconsolable.
The only thing keeping me even remotely together was Pops’ arms around me. He didn’t say a single word.