Flight of the Golden Harpy (41 page)

“I’ll be right there,” Bill said wearily. “It can’t get out, but stay by the doors.”

Seeing Mollie’s bruised face, split lip, and welts, a guard asked, “Did the harpy do this to you?”

“No,” Mollie said between sniffles. “Gus and those men raped me and were going to kill me. The harpy saved me. Do you understand? He jumped Gus and saved my life. Don’t hurt him.”

Bill and the police arrived at the range simultaneously. Bill stepped up into the cage and looked at his dead brother. Gus’s neck was twisted, his face smeared red, and part of his nose was missing. “Jesus,” he muttered.

A police sergeant approached him. “I just talked to your animal handler, Mollie. She claims your brother and these two raped her and planned to murder her.”

“She’s confused. Gus wouldn’t hurt her,” Bill said. “You’ve heard how a woman loses her mind after a harpy molesting. My brother was probably trying to help her when the creature attacked. Let me talk to her.”

“She sounds competent,” said the sergeant, “but regardless, the harpy is dangerous and has to be destroyed. At first light we’ll go in and get him.”

“No, he’s too valuable,” Bill said and stepped out of the cage. He pulled the police sergeant aside. “I can make it worth your while to keep him alive. Say twenty thousand credits? My men can stun him and get him back into his cage. He’ll be auctioned off Monday night and destroyed Tuesday.”

The sergeant massaged his chin. “Twenty thousand,” he said. “I have no problem letting it live till Tuesday as long as it’s caged and properly secured, but your handler could complicate your plans. If her claim is true that the men were the rapists, the sperm DNA will confirm it and drag out the investigation. The courts will take ownership of the harpy and delay your auction. In the same situation, if a guard dog attacked men to save its assaulted owner, there wouldn’t be any reprisal against the animal. This situation might apply to the harpy. The courts have the power to spare him.”

Bill nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” He walked over to Mollie. “Come dear; there’s a robe in my office.” Bill helped her up and led her out of the range.

Bill put the robe on Mollie and closed his office door. “It must have been awful.”

“It was.” Mollie whimpered. “Gus held me down … he was going to kill me and blame it on the harpy.”

“You’re upset and mixed up. The harpy raped you, and poor Gus gave his life to save you.”

She stopped crying and looked up. “But that’s not what happened.”

“It is what happened. If you say different, I might have to finish what Gus started, and don’t even consider telling the police. I know people who can make a witness disappear. Do we understand one another?”

Mollie nodded with fear.

“Good girl. I knew you were smart. One of the officers will take you to a hospital. They can finish their report on how the harpy attacked you.”

Bill opened the office door and motioned to a police officer posted outside. “Her memory is coming back.”

17

Outside the cage Shail glanced back at the dead men and felt rage. The rain had let up and exposed the stars in between moving gray clouds. Spreading his wings, he flew the length of the dark hunting range and looked for an opening in the heavy top screen. He quickly learned he was still a prisoner, and the screen was impossible to break. Longing to be rid of the men’s blood on his body, he found a small pond and landed. They shall never soil me again, he thought and rinsed in the cool water.

Shail assumed his hate would wash away like their blood, but he was wrong. His mind dwelled on the cruel molesting, and he smoldered with revenge. The humans hated and slaughtered his race, and now the prejudice had come full circle. The ruler of the harpies longed to kill them.

He was troubled by the powerful hate that consumed him and realized he would willingly sacrifice his flocks to destroy men. His decision to lead wisely was lost. If free, I would have my harpies slay all survivors of the swarms, he thought. Better I die than have the human weapons harm my flock.

When the blood was gone, he curled up on the ground and focused on his heart, hoping to commit suicide with a heart attack, but Mollie’s drugs protected his life. He stood up and shook his head, never feeling so confused. The emotion of hate was foreign to a harpy, and like love, he believed it would remain forever. “The men shall kill me with the coming light,” he said, resolved to his fate. “The swarms shall cleanse the land, and my son shall reign in a human-free world.”

He flew to the highest tree and perched on the blue limb near the screen. He called out silently in hopes of contacting a harpy. If any were near, they would sense his thoughts and come. The moist wind whipped at his locks, sending them off his shoulders while he stared beyond the walls at the horizon. The first rays of dawn crept through dark clouds. His time was fleeting like the tropical breeze.

A half-grown harpy sailed out of the shadowy sky and landed on the screen above Shail’s head. The young harpy stared down in awe. “Your wings are yellow. You are the golden ruler we seek,” he relayed, and bowed his head.

“I am he,” Shail relayed. “Are the swarms near?”

“In five lights they come east, my father says. I shall seek our flock leader, Seth. He shall save you.”

“No, I do not wish to be saved,” Shail relayed, and reached back, plucking a flight feather from his wing. “The men’s weapons would destroy Seth’s flock, and I still would be caged.” Shail pushed the feather through the screen. “Listen carefully. Take my feather to your Seth, so all know we shared these words. After the beetles attack this city and the humans have fled or died, the flocks must gather and destroy the swarms with one sweeping strike. Do you understand? This must be done before the rise of the next full moons.”

“I understand, master,” relayed the teenager.

“Also my mate is here. She dwells in the city with two men. She and these men must be found and taken to a place of safety before the swarms come.”

“You wish to save men?” asked the teenager.

Shail arched his wings and growled, “You do not question. You follow.”

The teen fell on the screen and hid his face in his arms with the threat of the raised yellow wings, the symbol of reprisal.

Shail lowered his wings. “What is your name?”

“Ribot, Master.”

Shail reached through the screen and stroked the young male’s head. “Ribot, these things I say are very important. All life depends on you to deliver my words. The beetles must be destroyed before they grow too strong, and the two men protect my pregnant mate.” He glanced up at the brightening sky. “Go now before the protection of shadows is gone, and you are discovered.”

Ribot grasped the three-foot yellow feather and bound into the gray sky.

In the distance Shail heard many voices coming from the doors. “I shall never be hunted again.” He breathed deeply and flew toward the men gathered by his cage. He landed just beyond the extended awning. The twenty surprised men raised their weapons.

“Don’t shoot him,” Bill yelled at his guards, animal handlers, and policemen. “A stun can bring on a heart attack. Maybe we can get him without it.”

Shail looked at Bill. He alone longs to avenge his sibling’s death, he thought, and dauntlessly approached the large man.

“Be careful, Mr. Simpson. It’s set its sights on you,” called a guard.

Shail stopped twenty feet from Bill. The silence was broken only by the squawks of distant birds as the men stared in a trance. Shail waited for Bill to grasp the weapon hanging from his belt and fire a deadly blast. Taunting the man, Shail flung his head, sniffled, and paced closer, ruffling his feathers. Five feet away, Shail arched his wings and hissed, signaling a male challenge.

“Get ready,” Bill whispered to the men. “I’ll try to grab him.”

Bill lunged for Shail, who fluttered, struck the man’s chest with his feet, and sent the big man flying on his back. Bill hit the ground, and Shail landed close by. He paced around him, hissing to encourage him to rise.

Bill sluggishly got up. The wind knocked out of him, he gasped for breath. Shail was only an arm’s length away. Bill again charged, his fists swinging, and Shail flapped his wings, kicking Bill’s face and again knocked him down. Much like a thin matador, the harpy hit the angry bull of a man with each pass. Bill couldn’t put his hands on Shail nor defeat him in physical combat. Shail sniffled with aversion, tempting him to fight or kill.

“You little son-of-a-bitch,” Bill grumbled and stood up, holding his sore face.

The men closed in, circling the two. Determined not to flee, Shail stood his ground and hissed at them to keep their distance. He brazenly strutted around Bill and teasingly flung his hair. Bill made one final attack, and Shail jumped sideward, his foot striking the man’s stomach. Bill dropped with a heavy thud and coughed. This clumsy beast is no challenge, Shail thought, growing impatient with the pathetic human. He walked behind Bill and clutched his head and neck, preparing to give him the same death as his brother.

The twenty security guards and policemen leaped on Shail and wrestled him off the big range owner. Shail struggled briefly, kicking two men in the face, and a wing took down a third, but he was outnumbered and pinned on the ground. Lying subdued, he felt metal shackles with chains placed on his wrists and ankles.

A couple of guards hoisted up Bill, and he breathed hard with exertion and pain. “Goddamn harpy is fast, and uses its feet like a professional boxer.” He puffed. “I see how it killed my brother.” He went to the harpy, and it insolently glared up at him, ignoring the other men who held it down. “Stand him up.”

The men lifted Shail to his feet, and he hissed at Bill.

“You nervy little bastard,” Bill said. “I’ll knock the shit out of you.”

Bill struck Shail with a hard blow to the stomach, and his knees buckled. He slumped in the men’s arms and coughed. He lifted his head and angrily seethed.

“Get him up again,” Bill growled and hit Shail’s stomach a second time. Shail breathed heavily and shook his hair. Instead of becoming meek, he felt growing rage. He fought the men’s hold, lunged toward Bill, and snapped his teeth. His defiance purposely fueled Bill’s temper, hoping to incite the man to kill.

It was working. Bill was losing control. He again raised his fist to clobber the harpy.

A young police officer grabbed Bill’s arm. “That’s enough,” he said. “I’ll not stand by and watch you beat him to death.”

Bill collected himself. “Yes, I don’t want him damaged.” He stared into the harpy’s incorrigible blue eyes and turned to his men. “Put a shock collar on him and attach his chains to the bar before he’s turned loose in the cage. We’ll need some control over him.”

Shail bit at the men’s hands when the leather collar came near, but they clutched his hair, gagged him, and fastened the tight collar laced with metal strips to his neck. They picked him up and carried him to the cage. An animal handler injected him with a heart stimulant that kept him alive. The cage was clean and filled with fresh straw. The chains held him down long enough to allow the men to exit. The cage door closed, and the chains loosened. Shail sat up in the straw and looked around. Bill and the guards went inside to prepare for the crowds.

The young officer who stopped the beating, and another policeman approached the cage and watched him. “Sure wasn’t much of a hunt. He flew right to us,” said the other officer.

The young officer moved closer. “I’ve never seen a harpy. Take away his wings, he’d pass as a good-looking teenager.”

“I’ve seen a few,” said the other officer. “They’re always thin and pretty, but don’t be fooled by their looks. The thing killed three men and raped a woman, and he was just toying with the big range owner. If we hadn’t pulled it off, Simpson would also be dead. I sure wouldn’t mess with it.”

“The female handler made conflicting statements with her story. She initially told the guards the men raped her, and the harpy was protecting her. Then changed her mind and said the harpy attacked. You know this is the first recorded case of a harpy killing men. I get the feeling this creature is getting a bad rap.”

The other officer shrugged. “It’s possible, but animals can’t plead self-defense, and he’s been labeled a man-killer. They’re auctioning him off to hunters Monday night, and he’ll be destroyed. Look, I have to get back to the precinct.” He walked to the doors.

The young officer gazed at the harpy and sighed. “It’s a darn shame. I think you wanted it to be over. Why else would you fly to a bunch of armed men?” He walked from the cage and was the last police officer to leave the hunting range.

Nestled down on the straw, Shail had detected compassion in the young man. From the men’s words he learned Mollie had lied and blamed him for the rape. Shail was not unsettled by her betrayal, knowing humans lacked a harpy’s honor. He longed for Mollie’s presence and soothing hands. She was devoted to him and must have had reasons for her falseness. Normally he would have beaten Gus within an inch of his life to protect Mollie, but he had taken the attack one step further and killed; revenge, the motivation.

His fear was gone, but replaced with hate. Shail understood fear, a common emotion in animals, but hate perplexed him. Only men could create the unnatural feelings in a harpy. Even in a male challenge, the harpies didn’t harbor evil feelings toward one another. I prefer fear over the killing lust, he thought. I have truly lost the harpy in me.

*   *   *

Bill and an animal handler walked up to his cage. Shail slightly lifted his head off the straw and seethed, feeling the wrath to lash out. With each exhale, he released a venomous sizzle and glared at the man from the center of the cage.

“If he wasn’t worth so much,” Bill said to the handler, “I’d knock that hostile look right off his cute little face.” He picked up the harpy’s stimulant drug. “Inject him with this tomorrow morning. Don’t want his heart stopping.”

Once Bill lowered his gaze, Shail flew off the straw and crashed against the cage. He managed to seize Bill’s neck and slam his head against the bars. Swiftly wrapping one of his wrist chains around the man’s throat, he tugged and cut off Bill’s air. The handler was so shocked by the sudden attack he froze for a moment.