25.
"Angel's waiting for us," Nudge complained a bit later. "I mean, she's like a little sister, like everyone's little sister."
The hawks had been more comfortable with them sitting there, and I thought that I might try flying with them. The hawks had an amazing way of flying, so natural, so much unlike what we did.
"At night, when we're supposed to be asleep, me and Angel talk and tell jokes and stuff." She caught my eyes. I nodded, slightly. "I mean, am I going to have to sleep in that room alone, whenever we get home? Max has to come back. She wouldn't let Angel go, right?"
"No," I assured her. "She won't let Angel go. Look – you see how that big hawk, the one with the dark stripe on its shoulders – you see how he seems to move one wing faster than the other when he banks? It makes his bank really tight and smooth. We should try it." Nudge just stared at me. Then she turned to watch the hawk.
"Yeah, I see what you mean," she told me, and was about to say something else, but I stood up, and ran quickly and lightly to the edge of the cave, and leaped off into the air.
I spread my wings to full fourteen-foot wingspan immediately, so I caught myself before falling far. I beat my wings a bit, and then flew closer to where the hawks were circling around. They didn't seem to mind me.
I followed them around their circle, moving my outside wing faster to bank. This move was so much better than what we had been doing before. I moved to the outside of the circle, and called to Nudge as I passed.
"Come on. Try it! You'll fly better."
I swept by quickly. There was nothing that equaled flying. I looked behind me, and saw Nudge reluctantly jump off the cliff and glide through the air. Flying across the circle, she caught up with me quickly. I showed her how to do the move, and she imitated it.
Flying with the hawks let me free my mind, and focus only on imitating their moves. They were so graceful, and flew so effortlessly.
That evening, we were sprawled out on the floor of the cave, watching the hawks, who were feeding the fledglings, preening their feathers, and teaching them how to fly.
Nudge sniffled.
"What?" I asked her.
"These birds," Nudge wiped her eyes with her hand. "Like, these dumb hawks have more of a mom than I ever had. The parents are taking care of the little ones. No one ever did that for me, well besides Max. But she's not a mom."
"Yeah. I get it." Nudge was so sad. I knew that she wanted to know she had a family. We all did. At that moment, I hated the scientists at the School more than ever. Every child deserved someone.
It made me think of Ari, Jeb's son. I was sure that Eraser had been him. And he'd had a parent, Jeb. But even so, he'd been made into an Eraser. And Jeb had died. We were sure of that. Maybe, I thought, just maybe the Erasers weren't bad, just brainwashed.
Then I remembered Angel, and how they'd been so violent, doing anything to get her. I clenched my fist, as if trying to punch an invisible Eraser in front of me. No. They were all bad. Anyone or anything that can do that to a little kid… I really hoped Angel was okay.
After a while, once all the birds had settled down, I scooted over to Nudge, and held out my left fist. She looked up at me, and stacked her left fist on mine. She tapped my left fist with her right hand, and I did the same for her. Tradition was important to our flock.
"Night," Nudge whispered, curling herself against the wall of the cave.
"Night, Nudge," I whispered back. "It'll be okay." I wasn't sure if she heard me. She probably was already asleep. I stretched out on the floor, ready to fall asleep. Maybe Max would come tonight. Just maybe.