WARRIORS HIGH
ISLAND OF THE FALLEN
CHAPTER FIVE
DIRECTIONLESS (PART I)
JULY 14, 2025
FORRESTLAKE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
There was a large crowd gathered in the baggage claim of Forrestlake Airport.
Some were trying to push past, looking for their family amidst the large gathering of reporters, security, and onlookers interested in the guest of honor.
In front of the fray were three well-built bodyguards in black suits, ties and sunglasses. The woman on the left had clean black hair, white gloves on her clasped hands and a calm stare ahead. The man in the middle had a good four inches and fifty pounds of muscle more than his partners, but fidgeting uncomfortably underneath his clothes occasionally. The man on the right was the most relaxed, one hand on his hip while the other either fiddled with his blonde-dyed hair or moving his shades up the bridge of his nose.
"Christ almighty," muttered the brute under his breath, "I don't care how famous this guy is. How long does it take to get off a plane?"
"He's the leader of a small country, Tigerjaw," snipped the woman in frustration, "He'll take as long as it takes for him to not get assassinated."
"He's not gonna get assassinated, sis. No one would be that stupid."
"Are you kidding me? With all of the windows in this place?!"
"Sure, you two keep arguing…" said the blonde boy, letting out a callous yawn, "I just wanna change into a t-shirt and shorts and stay in bed."
"Y'know…" said the woman, "For a job that'll get us enough money to drop off the map and get away from getting killed and sold on the market, I would think that you would be a little bit more enthusiastic about this, Crowflight."
"I like that part, Ravenheart, but...oh joy, we have to stand still in the middle of a crowded airport lobby for three hundred hours to wait for the guy we're driving."
"Wait, I thought it was under an hour…" mumbled Tigerjaw as they fell to silence.
Suddenly, a tourist in a baggy teal shirt walked right into Ravenheart's back. Immediately, the two of them were on edge, the woman roughly shoving away as the two men closed their fists and readied themselves for battle. The poor man, who looked to be a newly divorced alcoholic, felt his eyes widen as he looked upon the group in alarm.
"Jeez...sorry…" he muttered, hurrying away to look for his suitcase.
Ravenheart sighed as he left, running a hand through her hair as Tigerjaw pat her on the back.
"You were always the paranoid one…" mumbled Crowflight, though his voice gave away that he was just as on edge as his sister.
This show of rampant paranoia had become commonplace throughout the past year. Ever since they had stuck their hands into ARS' operation by kidnapping Garrison, they had been paying the price by dealing with a price tag on their backs (and, for that matter, every part of their body) open for anyone in the black market. For the last nine months, they had gone into hiding, moving between motel rooms and jobs to try and keep themselves hidden from anyone that had a gun and a dream of riches.
And yet the last time they were jumped was two months ago, under a highway bridge. It was now long enough to be paranoid that at any given second, they could have a bullet in their brains, regardless of their powers.
But they had often come back to the Three. A lot more than they wanted to admit. They had been kind in their offers for room and board now and then but amidst the siblings, they knew that the presence of a group of equal power that they could never completely trust was unnerving. Especially when they knew that the feeling of unease was mutual. They were barely comfortable enough to leave their room when they were held back from their flight during the hurricane in Florida.
Ravenheart had said at one point last week that she was hoping they could get attacked then and there just for the sake of not having to worry about the next one any longer. And it may have been stupid-sounding at first, but the brothers, standing in the middle of a crowded airport lobby with windows, had found themselves agreeing.
Maybe their boredom about standing still in a room of 500 tourists was a comfortable change from the tense lives they had lived.
"He...did get on the plane, right?" said Tigerjaw, stifling a yawn.
"Yes, Tigerjaw," said Ravenheart, sounding more annoyed than tired.
"Cause I can't help but notice that his plane landed thirty minutes ago and yet he is still not here."
"Who knows?" said Crowflight, "Maybe he stopped off for a pretzel."
"A pretzel," said Ravenheart, cocking her eyebrow.
"Yeah."
"In Forrestlake airport."
"That's exactly what I'm saying, yes."
"Because Forrestlake is known for their pretzels."
"I'm just saying," said Crowflight with a shrug, "Pretzels can have that effect. It's like a wormhole. Get one and you start getting sucked into a fit of money loss and pretzel addiction. Besides, what is Forrestlake known for, anyway?"
"Gay rights, terrorist attacks and attracting trouble on the double."
Crowflight paused.
"That would look nice on a sign."
"Yes, I'm sure the tourists coming into the island would love to see the words 'terrorist attacks' in peppy bold font and surrounded by stars and smiley faces."
"Hey. People can have peculiar tastes. When those are appealed to, it makes the place unique."
"I just wanna get this job done…" said Tigerjaw, rubbing his eyes, "I want the ambassador to walk into the room right now."
The sliding doors opened and outwalked a tall man with distinctive mahogany-red hair and sunglasses. Also accompanying his aura of professionalism and chic was a pair of identical twins, brother and sister, and a child, about six who looked to be asleep on her feet. Immediately the press rushed into action, shouting and clicking their cameras.
Ravenheart and Crowflight looked to their brother, who shrugged with a disbelieving smirk.
"Look at that. A power I didn't even know I had."
The three leaped into action, pushing through the paparazzi screaming questions about Sparrowstorm's children and scandals that didn't exist and gesturing for the ambassador to follow them into the arrival section of the airport. The steamy humidity hit them like a wave, and the three siblings wiped their now-fogged-up sunglasses and hailed the limo near the back.
"MR. AMBASSADOR! MR. AMBASSADOR!"
Sparrowstorm acknowledged their presence for the first time, but the Triumvirate stepped in front of his family before he could respond. Surely anyone who had questions would be feeling a little intimidated by their presence.
"Are you aware that your bodyguards are wanted on the black market?!"
That got their attention.
The Triumvirate flinched hard, the brothers glancing at Ravenheart who summoned a small purple aura around her hand, the paparazzi reigniting into an uproar of pressing questions and Sparrowstorm hesitating for a moment as he opened the door to the limo.
When they had said that they wanted to get attacked again just so they didn't have to worry about getting attacked for a while, they didn't mean right that second.
"Head inside, Mr. Ambassador," said Crowflight, trying to hide how off-put he was, "We'll take care of them for you."
Sparrowstorm glared at him suspiciously.
"What, would you rather have an unplanned press day in the front of a limo that's going to take you to your wife or risk a ride with guards who don't even have guns on them?"
After a moment's glance longer, Sparrowstorm turned to his kids and gestured for them to get in the car. Crowflight turned back to the clamoring press, looking nervously at his sister for a moment.
Ravenheart was searching. Analyzing the crowd. A haze of purple energy so pale it was unnoticeable fell over the press.
"Third row. Yankees hat."
"It's always the Yankees fans, isn't it…"
Crowflight replaced Ravenheart's aura with his own, surrounding the palm of his hand with cerulean blue energy and making a pinch between his thumb and index finger.
It took a moment to notice, but when a man with a neckbeard, sunglasses and a New York Yankees cap holding a sad excuse of a personal camera collapsed, grasping on his throat with had been mysteriously sealed off from air, the press around him were (thankfully) distracted and attempted to stop him from choking. Using this distraction, the Triumvirate slipped into the limo cleanly without anyone raising a finger to stop them.
It was only when they were pulling out of the concourse and onto the highway when Crowflight released his grip, though he was unsure of if he had killed him by asphyxiation or not.
"Were they after us?" he asked, cracking his back as he settled into the black pleather seat.
"Not sure," said Ravenheart with a shrug, "Didn't detect any weapons on him, but that camera he had certainly isn't good for any front-page material. If anything, he was a whistleblower."
"So a potential whistleblower has probably seen our license plate and is likely going to send it to units that could track us down?"
"Well, you did cut off his airflow for over a minute, so we've probably bought a bit of time."
"I thought you were supposed to not be the optimistic one."
"I'm not. I just know when the odds are in our favor off of facts and not...pretzels."
"Seriously, what do you have against pretzels?"
"I've got nothing against pretzels. They're perfectly adequate food. I'm more worried about a possible addiction you have with them."
"Preposterous!" said Crowflight, feigning offense, "How dare you even think of such an accusation."
"Guys?"
The siblings turned to look at Tigerclaw, who in turn pointed to the four other passengers in the car.
"Oh yeah. We have passengers."
"Well, this has been most entertaining to watch," said Sparrowstorm, the amount of snark in his voice startling the Triumvirate, "But, if you may, I would love an explanation as to what the hell is going on."
Pause.
"Well, let's start at the beginning, shall we?" said Crowflight, "It all started on the day I was born…"
"To put it simply, Mr. Ambassador," said Ravenheart, cutting off her brother, "We attempted an attack on the Assassins of the Rising Sun and tried to gain information from one of their leading officers. In retribution, he posted bail on us on the black market for a couple million dollars-it's now around half a billion now-and had every single organ in our body put up for sale. We've spent the last eight months on the run from loonies with guns wanting to get rich and have taken several different jobs in order to avoid being tracked."
"I was getting to that part."
The others were silent, looking wide eyed.
"And...so you decide that the best job to not get tracked is to attempt to protect the ambassador of a small nation, as well as his three kids?" said the teenage girl, who looked to be the source of all pessimism on the planet. Sparrowstorm however looked more thoughtful.
"How did you get this job?"
"Oh, uh…" said Tigerjaw, "We were looking for jobs where we could do more things than flip burgers and...Who was it? Seashell?"
"No, it was Mallowleaf."
"Right, Mallowleaf. She offered us this job."
Now everyone awake had their attention on them. The teenage boy grinned brightly at the name, the girl huffed and backed off and Sparrowstorm chuckled, leaning back into the seat and letting his gaze turn soft.
"Well then, we're all good. Anyone that Mallowleaf trusts, I trust," said the ambassador, showing the wedding ring on his right finger.
There was a beat.
"Ohhhhhhh…" Tigerjaw said, enlightened.
"So these are your kids?" said Ravenheart, silencing Crowflight before he could make a joke about kidnapping or child trafficking.
"My heart and soul," said Sparrowstorm proudly, "This is Snowfall…"
"Everyone calls me Snowy," said the boy, waving politely but sounding slightly embarrassed and self-conscious.
"That's Pine," he said with a point to the teen girl to Tigerjaw's right.
"Friends call me Tavin. Cause that's what I want to be called," she said.
"Well, they will be calling you by your alias whether you like it or not," said the ambassador tersely. The girl huffed and rolled her eyes.
"Well, he is paying us," said Crowflight before being roughly elbowed by his sister.
"And this is Cliff. My youngest."
Snowy ruffled the hair of his sister, now awake and looking attentively and curiously at the three of them. Ravenheart have a friendly wave. "Hello, Cliff."
Cliff grinned and began gesturing in an unknown manner.
Tigerjaw blinked. "I don't…I dunno what that…"
"ASL," said Snowy, ruffling his little sister's hair, "She's mute. She can hear you just fine, can even hear better than most people, but can't say a word."
"Ah," said Crowflight, leaning back, "Sounds like a handful."
"They certainly can be," said Sparrowstorm with a bright smile only fathers could have, "But I wouldn't have it be any other way."
"Daaaaaad…" murmured Pine in embarrassment.
"So," said the gay brother, "Heading to the mysterious mountain on the mansion, right? We'll be getting there in plenty of time. Might even have time to stop off for a pretzel before people can ask questions about our ETA-"
"Tigerjaw, be a dear and eject our dear brother from the vehicle."
"Gladly," said the brute, rolling up his sleeves.
"-Or we can just head straight there and be there early," said Crowflight, holding up his arms to defend himself, "I'm sure they won't mind."
"No, I'm sure they won't," said Ravenheart as Tigerjaw sighed in disappointment and lowered his arms.
Sparrowstorm chuckled. "I don't know why I was worried about you guys."
Pine rolled her eyes. "They can probably make a building explode with the snap of their fingers or some shit."
"Language," berated the ambassador. The girl rolled her eyes…
...until she noticed that the Triumvirate were suddenly avoiding her gaze.
Dusty and Jaywhisker had spent the entire day cleaning.
The Ambassador of Lindisfarne was arriving today to meet up with his wife (though they were technically separated legally) and begin negotiations with Forrestlake for defense spending and alliance in their defense against the terrorism that haunted their dreams. Coalstrike, who seemed to be in a worse mood than usual, had also informed them that Sparrowstorm would be discussing Resistance business and that they were to present themselves as "competent."
Dusty didn't miss the chill in his superior's eyes when he looked at him.
It had always been this way, and he couldn't really blame him. Coalstrike had always been the most aggressive and trigger-happy of the group. Always the most desperate to win the war, his trauma to blame. So a fight against a group of terrorists that could pose as regular citizens and move in tandem without a home base wasn't exactly putting him in his best mindset.
But in the days he had returned from his gallivanting around the USA with Axis, Dusty had noticed just how damaged his friend and family had gotten. And how much Ashtooth's disappearance was to blame.
They were a party of seven fighting a war meant for a nation, so they functioned together with everyone playing a vital piece. With Ashtooth gone, things felt discombobulated. Daffodil was basically invisible, Mallowleaf had grown noticeably more paranoid and Seashell more depressed. But it was Coalstrike who had almost flown off the handle. He had disappeared for two weeks with Jack Graves to pursue a lead and walked through the front door with blood still dripping from every part of his body. Jaywhisker said he had never seen Seashell more upset with Coalstrike than he did at that moment.
So him glaring at Dusty for choosing his boyfriend over the war for eight months was not unexpected. Especially since he had informed the Resistance that he would be keeping Dusty's soldier life a complete secret, both to keep the press out of it and to help protect Axis.
That was the least of his concerns, though. His concern right now was wiping down Jaywhisker's workstation, which was filled with wood prototypes he said was Firestar's homework for him. He saw satellites, missiles and futuristic-looking space lasers, all mini-models made out of plywood and all not allowed to be touched lest Jaywhisker hypnotize Axis into throwing Dusty off of the mountain.
"Maybe he won't wanna have a meeting today…" said Jaywhisker to himself as he picked up the beer cans and wood, "Maybe he's forgotten there is a resistance…"
Dusty started at that. "ARS killed thousands of his people, bud. How could he possibly forget?"
"I dunno…Maybe he's feeling nice and won't ask why we haven't made any progress for eight months."
"We'll just tell him that ARS went off the grid, then," said Dusty, spraying a spare table in the back, "And we've been working."
"They certainly will. What will you say?"
He stopped and turned to Jaywhisker, who was turned away.
"What?"
"I dunno; doesn't seem like the ambassador's gonna be thrilled if you say you took a break so you could get fucked around the world."
"I'm not gonna tell him that!"
"You have nothing, Dusty. Nothing to show him except for your drug-filled life of glitz, glam and gay. That doesn't kill terrorists."
"How about the media?"
Now Jaywhiser turned to him. "Go on."
"We were on the cover of People magazine, J. Axis is one of the faces of the queer singing community now, so we have some positive media as well as some influence. Pretty much anyone who doesn't preach the Bible as gospel and is paying attention is gonna listen if he stands with Forrestlake."
"So your plan is to convince Axis to stand by Lindisfarne in a very public manner and pressure Firestar into giving Sparrowstorm a check for defense spending while somehow keeping your life as a terrorist-fighting soldier completely secret."
"Well, the way you say it makes it sound extremely malicious," said Dusty crossing his arms, "But...yes. I have media power and I intend to use it to benefit us."
"This isn't a presidential election, Dusty," said Jaywhisker, setting down his cleaning materials and approaching him, "This is a war on terrorists. Anyone that supports ARS and what they did probably have the Swastika hung up in their bedroom. There's already pressure on Firestar to accept the bill, so having Axis say something about Lindisfarne at a concert will make no difference."
"But it's something, right? We've been swept under the rug and ignored, even though we're basically the only unit dedicated to fighting ARS in the world. If we can get the public behind us, think of all the support we can get for fighting the people that took our home away."
Jaywhisker paused to rub his eyes and think.
"Dusty...I know you took American History sophomore year before our high school got blown up. And I know that you learned about the War on Terror that Bush conducted on 9/11. Do you realize how awful that went? It was a desperation move by Bush to save face and give the country hope by reigniting Manifest Destiny and throwing the military at something that can't be fixed in a war. It caused the national debt to go up, it allowed a gateway for a massive increase in hate crimes against Muslims, and it did absolutely nothing considering less than a year after they were withdrawn, the Taliban now hold control over the half of the Middle East that ISIS doesn't control. If you convinced any nation, not just the states to throw soldiers at ARS without a plan, it's gonna go wrong. And who is left to blame but us?!"
"But-"
"No buts, Dusty!" snapped Jaywhisker, getting in his face, "You know why Coalstrike's mad at you? Do you know why I'm mad at you? It's because you spent the past eight months gallivanting across the states as a queer icon and having gratuitous amounts of gay sex instead of fighting the war you convinced us all to fight! You're supposed to be the symbol! Something that shows why we're united! You worked so hard to stand up to those who hurt you...and you just threw it away for an extended vacation."
Silence.
Dusty couldn't bring himself to say anything.
He looked hurt.
Mainly because Jaywhisker was completely right. Media attention on them, especially with them down a member and planless, would do nothing more than hurt them.
He had left his family for Axis...but then and there, he couldn't convince himself that it was worth it.
There was a ding as the elevator behind them opened and Seashell peeked out. "Come upstairs."
Jaywhisker turned away. "Is it time?"
Seashell nodded. "It's time."
They walked to the elevator in silence, Dusty trudging behind and looking down at his sneakers as they headed up to the main floor.
Once there, they saw Mallowleaf in a tight, suffocating hug, sobbing into the Ambassador-her husband's-shoulder as her kids surrounded her as well. When they broke apart, Sparrowstorm wiped his eyes and turned to the Three, who each shook his hand respectfully in turn.
Dusty waited patiently, but as he shuffled his feet, his eyes locked with Coalstrike.
That same cold stare of judgment.
He had grown so used to holding the stare, standing up against his superior and showing that he was worth more than he thought he was ever since he had returned home.
But this time, he could barely look at him for much longer before staring at the ground, the dejection failing to leave his eyes.
Hi.
It's me again.
I...guess I'm back? Tough to say for sure since I've uploaded only four things in the last six months or so. I honestly wasn't prepared to go this long on a story like this with absolutely nothing. But I'm still here, though.
There's no real reason why I went silent for five months. I just...burned out. I've gone through bouts of writer's block before, but never something so severe as me just not doing anything for this long. I started writing this chapter about a month ago, and bringing myself back to finishing it was, in full honestly, hell on fucking earth. Not that I don't enjoy writing this story anymore, don't get me wrong, but...getting back up from a five month dry spell is very, very difficult.
I could go on about how I hate this chapter, but this chapter isn't done. This was always meant to be a long one, but just to get the feeling of posting something again, I've decided to split it into two parts. Hopefully, having this up for a few days will mean that I can get back into some sort of groove.
I've been doing this a lot, but sorry for disappearing. Hopefully, this is the end of my burnout and I can get back to writing under some semblance of reliability once again.
If you're still with me...thank you. Hopefully I won't disappoint you for much longer.
Best,
~Res
