Fly

My mouth filled with the comforting taste of metal, cold and faintly sour. I tongued at the locket and pushed it around, grasping it gently in my teeth. Flames jumped and danced in front of me; I found myself transfixed.

“Will you stop that?”

My mind jet back to reality and I snapped a twig between my fingers. I glanced at my hand; I didn’t remember picking up a twig. James was sitting on the other side of the campfire, his eyes burning with annoyance. I spit the heart shaped locket from my mouth, the gold chain catching when it reached my chest.

“Stop what?” my voice exuded aggression, but I couldn’t stand that look he was giving me.

“That! Sucking on that necklace,” he tossed his hand in my direction.

My eyes rolled involuntarily, and I stood. “If you’re not planning to sleep, I’m gonna lay down for a bit,” I responded.

James shrugged. I walked over to the tree I spotted earlier. Climbing up midway, I found branches that formed a curved Y shape and nestled in. From here I could see the back of James sitting at the fire. The air was getting colder, I pulled my hood up. Winter was approaching fast, and we weren’t prepared. It put us both on edge.

Loud crackling woke me. My stomach dropped. The air was thick, and my lungs spasmed. With watering eyes, I leapt up, balancing in the branches with a hand holding onto a branch above my head. Below me, our campfire raged and licked everything in its way. “James!” I called out while scouring for any sign of him. The fire popped in response. My mind swirled with the smoke around me. “James!” I yelled again.

Climbing down was not an option, the fire was almost to my tree. I made my way higher into the branches. I had to get to the top. Wood splintered my sweating hands, and my legs buckled. When I reached the highest branch, I looked up. The sky was black, and stars blinked down at me. I took a deep breath and pushed off the tree limb into the night.

It felt like standing after sitting for too long. My wings groaned in relief as they took me higher. For a second, I felt at ease. The forest stretched out for miles below me. It was unlikely to be spotted this deep in the wilderness, but I needed to stay cautious. James and I had made our way through forest and mountain regions ever since martial law was declared. If they caught sight of me in the air, I’d be shot down. Out of discretion, James and I hadn’t flown for months.

Under martial law, surgical wing removal was enforced and refusing it was a death sentence. Aiding or hiding anyone with wings was also punishable by death. Those who opted for wing removal were promised a life of normalcy. Though there was nothing normal about life now. A better, safer society were the words plastered to billboards, repeated by every news station, commercialized. I could vomit. What the news never mentioned were the high suicide rates for those who had gone through wing removal, or how many people with wings were unaccounted for, or that pregnancies were encouraged to be terminated if the ultrasound detected that the baby had wings. Nowadays, babies born with wings went through wing removal surgery before their parents could even hold them.

Be fair, care, remove your wings was another catch phrase. Wings were an advantage that seventy-five percent of the population didn’t have. Removing your wings was supposed to be an act of respect, a sign of love to your fellow humans born without wings. Before martial law, when public internet still existed, a few people who had gotten their wings removed spoke out about their experiences with the surgical procedure and how their lives were affected. Most were dealing with depression, phantom limb pain, and post-surgery complications. These videos and articles were heavily censored or made out to be exaggerations and lies. The claims didn’t fit the narrative of a better, safer society.

Whispers told me that some people had managed to escape to the free countries. Whether true or not, it gave me hope. I scanned the treetops below as I flew. I couldn’t stay in the air much longer, and I needed to find James. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I spotted a river in the distance. I became aware of my thirst and headed in the water’s direction. Abruptly, I lost control of my limbs and felt my body plunge toward the forest. My head throbbed as I fell from the sky, and I caught a glimpse of large black wings right before I lost consciousness.

I woke up retching with my face in a puddle of bile. Pushing myself into a sitting position I realized my hands were bound together in front of me. I lifted my arms to touch my head and my fingers came away with blood. I was in an empty room made of wood. Sunlight peered in through closed slates over a single window. I wasn’t dead. Why wasn’t I dead? Flyers were subject to instant death, not captivity. I stood and felt dizzy. When the room stopped spinning, I made my way to the door. It pushed open easily and I was greeted by a greasy looking man eating an apple.

“Hello sweetheart,” he said between bites. I felt a shiver run up my spine. The man was dressed in black military clothing and stood well over 6 feet tall. A gun was slung over his shoulder. He had wings. But I didn’t feel I was in the presence of a friend.

“Who are you?” my voice shook.

He didn’t answer and walked to the front door of the cabin. Opening it, he called out, “Hey! She’s up!”

I heard wings flap a few times and then another man stepped inside. This man was smaller than the apple eater, and younger but also wore black military clothing. He looked no older than twenty and had wings too. His eyes flashed in my direction and then back to the apple eater. “We better get moving” the younger guy said. Apple eater walked towards me, smiled, and started pushing me in the direction of the front door.

“Who are you!” I cried out, “Where are we going!” I tried to shove him away with my shoulder. Instantly, I felt a blunt force strike my head. He continued pushing me towards the door. I stumbled outside into a heavily wooded area. I had taken a few steps when a gunshot split the silence. I crumpled to the ground in shock, my ears ringing. Instantly, I was being pulled up off the dirt by the younger man who was tucking a handgun back into his belt. He said something, but I couldn’t hear him. I looked behind me at the apple eater, who was dead. The younger guy was still saying something. He cut the ropes off my wrists. Between the ringing, I heard him yell, “We’ve got to go! Come on!”

He started running and I followed him. My head was pounding as I tried to keep up. Branches tugged at my sleeves and cut my face and wings. We kept running. After what felt like miles, I tripped and fell onto the forest floor; exhaustion took me, and I couldn’t move. “W-wait” I called out with the last of my energy. I saw him stop and turn, he jogged back to me and crouched down.

“We’re almost there,” he said softly as he stood and lent me his hand.

“Almost where?” I choked with tears spilling from my eyes as he once again helped me to my feet. He pointed out in front of him. That’s when I both heard and saw it, a great waterfall in a cliff side not far off. We walked to the edge of a large ravine, and I stared. I’d never seen anything so powerful and beautiful. The water came crashing out of enormous grey rocks falling hundreds of feet down. Then, someone emerged from behind the mist and water. An old wizardly looking man was hovering in the air flapping wings as white as his beard. With wide eyes I turned to look at the man I had followed through the woods, and he laughed.

“Welcome to the resistance Ellie,” he said to me, and we flew towards the waterfall.