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Authors: Jessica MacIntyre

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BOOK: Blackbird
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              With traffic at a standstill people were getting out of their cars now to watch the human drama unfold. They were ready with morbid fascination to watch not one, but two people fall to their deaths. What they were about to get was something else entirely.

              Without any kind of warning Chelle’s jacket seemed to explode. The wings, all black feathers and metal, ripped the fabric, shooting out of her back like arrows from a crossbow. They asserted themselves, stretching and shining in the winter sunlight. The metal glinted, blinding him for a moment. When she moved again he saw the feathers. Such a deep dark black that the sun caused some of them to appear streaked with blue.

              A stunned gasp ran through the crowd. A heartbeat later both Chelle and the man disappeared as they slipped over the edge. Robert screamed again. “No!” and dropped to his knees on the roof of the car. Lowering his head he was overcome with grief. In an instant she was gone. He couldn’t fully comprehend the scope of what he’d lost but immediately he felt as though his entire world had collapsed inward on him. Chelle was no more. The feeling was unbearable and he locked his arms around his waist, feeling as though he was going to be sick.

              Just as he was sure that was going to happen another gasp ran through the crowd. “What the hell?” he heard a man’s booming voice say from behind him. When Robert lifted his head he saw her. Chelle was alive, the jumper dangling from her hand and she was flying. She was actually
flying
.

              “Holy hell,” he heard himself say. An involuntary smile spread across his face as he watched. She shot straight up and then down toward St. George’s Island. Where the hell was she going? The excited roar that ran through the crowd was palpable as everyone gaped, not believing what they were seeing. It wasn’t long before a sea of camera phones were present. Each of them pointed and focused directly at Chelle, who was now making her way back, the man dangling below her, his legs kicking wildly.

              He watched in amazement as she flew above the bridge, just grazing the top and came down hard and fast. The man landed on the hood of the car in front of him with a thud. He’d probably have a few broken bones, but he was alive. He would live to see another day, thanks to Chelle.

              Chelle herself came tumbling down in a mass of feathers and steel plummeting to the pavement, hitting her head on the concrete. Then he was off the car and running toward her, screaming for her even as he did. She tried to get up but collapsed just before he could get to her. She was out cold by the time he arrived.

              His only thought was to get her the hell out of there. With no regard for himself he picked her up, the steel of the wings scraping his right forearm. He felt the sting and a moment later the wet warmth as he began to bleed. He didn’t feel the pain yet, however. He was too amped up for that.

              Carefully he cradled her against him as he ran, her wings scraping the ground. His eyes darted around looking for his car but in his state he didn’t see it right away. He simply stood, Chelle a dead weight in his arms and stared at the sea of traffic. Spotting its open doors finally he began to run again. He made it to the car seconds before she woke up. Now she was in distress and began to cry out. “I got you,” he said, opening the back door. “Lay down. I got you.”

              She crawled into the back seat and as she did Robert noticed the blood, running down her back in sheets. “It hurts,” she whimpered before passing out again.

              He slammed the door shut and jumped into the front seat. He turned the car around and into the thankfully empty lane which had been closed to let emergency vehicles through and began to drive. He got about three feet before noticing the open passenger door. He stopped, crawled over to the other side and shut it, his arm bleeding all over the leather interior, and continued to drive. Once he got onto a side street he dug his cell phone out of his back pocket and scrolled through it, looking for Paul’s number and nearly causing an accident as he did.

              He hit the button and it rang in the car. Once…twice…three times.
Answer it, answer it, answer it
he willed silently. Finally on the fourth ring Paul picked up.

              “Hey Robert.”

              “Paul. Please say you’re at the hospital right now.”

              Paul flipped into doctor mode as easily as he always did. “I am. Why? What’s happened?”

              “Listen carefully, ok? I’m on my way. Chelle is in the backseat passed out. I’m coming in to the parking garage. Meet me there with a stretcher. Nobody can see her, ok?”

              “Robert that’s ridiculous. If she’s in trouble bring her straight to emergency. I’ll meet you there.”

              “No. It can’t be emergency. It has to be the parking garage and you can’t tell anyone.”

              “Why not? What’s wrong?”

              “I can’t tell you. Please, I need your help.”

              “Robert I could get in serious trouble for this, so could you, so could she. Think of her safety.”

              “I am. Please Paul I don’t ask for much. I just need you to trust me. Once you see her you’ll know. I’m almost there, please just meet me.”

              A few long seconds of silence on Paul’s end caused Robert’s hands to clench the steering wheel. Then he broke it. “Alright,” he said finally. “But there had better be a good reason for this.”

              “There is. I’ll be there in about five minutes. And bring a blanket.”

              He hung up before Paul had a chance to change his mind. He knew what he was asking but also knew that he had no choice. How do you bring a woman with a six foot wing span into emergency without causing a ruckus? Having seen all those camera phones aimed at her on the bridge he was sure a ruckus was something she didn’t have long to avoid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

              Paul was sure someone would question him when he took the empty stretcher from the hallway, but nobody did. They simply looked at him and smiled, nodded casually as they always had and continued on with whatever various tasks they were busy performing. Although it wasn’t as busy as the emergency room he’d worked in during his brief time in Montreal, Halifax was still a steady stream of its own misery. All emergency rooms were. No matter where you went if you worked in emergency you spent your days wading through a torrent of people who were coming in on the worst day of their life. Despite that fact he loved it. He didn’t feel complete without it and what Robert was asking him to do was violating every rule or code of ethics he could think of. Not to mention dangerous.

              The garage was basically empty and as he took the stretcher there to wait he hoped he was in the right spot. There were several floors but he settled on the ground level, figuring this would help get to her faster. He had come alone just like Robert requested. Hopefully whatever had happened wasn’t as serious as it sounded. He had a terrible feeling that it was however, considering that Robert, like all of the Cole boys, had inherited their parent’s ability not to panic in a crisis. Paul knew from Robert’s voice that he was most certainly panicking.

              The sound of tires squealing echoed in the underground structure and right away Paul knew it had to be Robert. He ran toward the sound and as he rounded the corner saw the familiar car coming toward him at top speed. Robert hit the brakes just in time to avoid knocking the stretcher over.

              “Help me!” he screamed as he bolted from the car, opening the back door.

              Paul brought the stretcher as close to the rear left door as he could and secured the brake. Peering inside he saw Chelle, her back awash with blood and she was underneath some kind of strange contraption that seemed to be a mix of metal and feathers.
Feathers?
He blinked hard not knowing what to say. He might be finding out things about his brother which he hadn’t known or wanted to know. People came in with all kinds of sexual fetish mishaps, but this? This was definitely a new one.

              “I don’t know what she’s hooked up to Robert, but we have to get it off her before we can put her on the stretcher. Where does it attach.”

              Robert paused for a moment. “It’s attached to her body.”

              “I can see that, but where does it come undone. Robert I can’t treat her until we remove it. She’s bleeding, she’s injured. Think hard.”

              Robert took Paul by the shoulders and looked him dead square in the eye and began talking. The panic in his voice caused each word to be strained. “Paul. Chelle has wings. They’re attached to her body. They don’t come off. They’re part of her.”

              “Ok, Robert whatever has happened here has obviously caused you some stress. It’s ok, we’re going to straighten it all out. Things will look better after we get her patched up and you have a nice nap.”

              “Don’t talk to me like I’m a mental patient. I’m telling you the truth.” Paul was about to speak again when he noticed the blood on Robert’s arm.

              “Robert, you’re injured too. What the hell were you guys doing?”

              “Never mind me. Just get her on the stretcher. She’s hit her head twice in the last twenty four hours. Really hard both times. Just help her, and quietly. Nobody can see. Enough people have already seen. It’ll probably be on the news.”

              “Whatever sexcapade you guys had going on is going to be on the news? Never thought I’d say this but, thank god Dad is dead and Mom has gone totally senile.”

              Robert paled. “You’re not hearing me. Look, I wouldn’t have believed it either but I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Get her inside and once you help her you can see for yourself. I don’t know how it is, but it
is.

              It was in that moment that Paul knew his brother was serious. He looked at Chelle, then back at his brother. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Can you give me a hand?”

              Robert nodded furiously that he could and together they reached in. Robert took her by the legs and Paul went for her waist. “Watch out. They’re sharp, that’s how I got cut.”

              Indeed they were. Under the feathers were a series of complicated blades, all mishmashed together, with feathers it seemed, growing directly out of them. It was impossible. It defied not only medical science, but also nature itself. Paul mentally shook his head.
It can’t be…but it is.

              Once she was on the stretcher on her stomach the wings folded down tight against her back, as if she’d done it on purpose knowing she needed to conceal them. That was impossible though because Chelle was completely unconscious. Paul grabbed the sheet and threw it over her, disengaged the brake and then he and Robert fled the parking garage, back in the direction of emergency.

              They made it to a private room, one with a door that actually shut which was a rarity, and Paul pulled the privacy curtain. Considering she had knives shooting out of her back he wondered how many sets of gloves he should put on before inspecting the damage. He settled on three and got down to work.

              With trembling hands he pulled the wing on the left away from her body and just as Robert had said, they were most definitely attached. When he yanked back further the wing jerked forward, covering Chelle’s back once again. His mouth hung open and for a few long moments he didn’t know what to say.

              Robert broke the silence. “I told you.”

 

***

              The look on Paul’s face finally told Robert that he believed him. Thank god because he didn’t have the energy to keep arguing. He was starting to feel a little woozy himself. He wasn’t sure how much he’d lost but there was a lot of blood on his shirt and pants. “Help me get her on her side,” Paul said.

              They very gently while avoiding the wings as much as they could rolled her over. Paul examined the top of her head. “She got that one last night, but the one on her forehead was just now.”

              Paul gently moved Chelle so that she was facing him, unconscious. “I don’t see anything on her forehead.”

              Robert came around to the other side of the stretcher and looked for himself. “That’s impossible. She hit her head so hard it cracked the pavement on the bridge. There’s no way that wouldn’t leave a mark.”

              Paul looked more confused than ever but Robert could see that he decided not to question it for the time being. “Ok, you need to get that arm taken care of and she needs a CT scan.” He threw open the door and grabbed the first nurse he saw. “This man’s had some blood loss and needs his arm stitched up. Take care of him right away. He’s a priority one.”

              The nurse nodded and took Robert by the arm before he had a chance to argue. A half formed protest was out of his mouth and then gone as Paul shut the door in his face. He didn’t want to leave her, not unless he knew she was going to be ok. The nurse grabbed a nearby wheelchair without a word and sat him down into it, whisking him into an exam room. A moment later he blacked out himself.

Chapter Twenty

              Eyes. Chelle felt nothing but eyes staring at her even as she lay sleeping. Swimming up from the darkness she felt and heard the buzzing of fluorescents overhead and the smell of antiseptic creeping up her nose. Even though she hadn’t confirmed it, her senses knew right where she was. A hospital.

              A number of tense voices were engaged in some kind of angry exchange.

              “Why did you call them?” a familiar one said.

              Another voice, this one also familiar but less so responded, “They’re biologists. I figured they could help. I have no idea what to do Robert. I mean, I did what I could but from what I can tell she’s not entirely…human.”

              “She’s not entirely animal either. Look at all that metal. No wonder you found so much in her blood work. Fascinating,” a nasally male voice said.

              “She’s like a sexy, dangerous, Victoria’s secret angel.”

              The nasally voice seemed offended at that. “Greg, that’s not a good hypotheses. First, angels aren’t real. Second, those are bird wings. Definitely bird wings, look at the shape. I have a friend who’s an ornithologist. We should bring him in to consult on this.”

              A stern voice that sounded like Robert’s spoke up. “Nobody else is being called in on this. It’s bad enough you two are here. This is a disaster.”

              Her eyes fluttered open and widened as she saw four sets of eyes staring down at her. Two sets were unknown, one set was vaguely familiar and one was very familiar. Two out of four of them were sporting glasses. One set of those sets of glasses were exceptionally thick and she recognized them as belonging to the nasally voice as he spoke up. “How are you feeling? It’s Chelle, right?”

              They were all looking at her as she lay on a stretcher on her stomach. Her first instinct was to push herself up and then walk out, but being topless she couldn’t exactly do that. She was confused as to what she was doing there. Why she was in a hospital with Robert and three doctors staring down at her. Three of them in wonder, one of them in worry. Then she remembered. She remembered the Gwoks, and the jail cell and the bridge and the man…and the flying…she remembered the flying. Her wings did too because they shot straight up at the thought of it. At the same moment all the men backed themselves against the wall.

             
Get back down there
.

              They obeyed, flattening themselves down against her back once again. If they’d listen to her in that regard she hoped they’d listen to the next request as well. She was discovering a definite connection between the wings and her thoughts.

             
Go back inside. For the love of god, please, go back inside so I can put on a shirt and possibly get out of here.

              Before the thought could finish itself the wings folded down, and then, making themselves smaller began to work their way back in. The process, which had always taken so long, took less than a minute this time. It was the quickest she’d ever gotten rid of them and although she was thankful for that, it still hurt like a bastard. She screamed as they went back inside her body.

              “I need a shirt,” she said to the three stunned men who were staring at her with mouths gaping open. Robert was busy looking around for something to cover her.

BOOK: Blackbird
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