When I finally land in a tree to rest, the sun has shimmied below the horizon. I wish I had the luxury to do the same. My back aches from flying all day, and I ate my last stale french fry a long time ago. The worst part, though, is that I haven't found a trace of the Flock. No large feathers, no trails of fast food trash-I scan the horizon again just to be sure-no smoke from the night's campfire. Exhausted, I find a sturdy branch to catch a breather on.

I realize I've actually started to drift off when I hear a noise. In an instant I'm on high alert. I watch the undergrowth in the dark, keeping completely still. A billion scenarios run through my head. If it's Erasers, maybe they did catch the Flock, and now they're after me. If I beat them, they won't help me. If I let them get me, they could lead me back to my family. I can worry about escaping afterwards. A flashlight's beam cuts through the murky darkness below me. I plan my attack and shift my weight in preparation for takeoff. Another beam joins the first. I unfurl my wings, ready to pounce on my pursuers.

When the flashlights get close enough that I can see their holders, I leap off the branch and. . .

back pedal like a madwoman. Instead of the hoard of Erasers I was waiting for, two less-than-beefy teens with bad facial hair appear out of the brush. I grab a nearby branch and hoist myself up and out of sight. And just in time.

"Hey. Did you hear that?" The lights spin around, searching the nearby trees. I hug my trunk and start to slowly pull in my wings. If I had owl wings, this wouldn't be a problem, but no, the School values speed over stealth. I hiss as my left wing snags on a nearby branch. "Over there!" I pull it in hard, twig and all. A circle of light glances over where my wing was a millisecond before. "There! Did you see that?"

"Don't be stupid. That was just a bird. Come on, we're going to be late!" I recognize the second voice. Reno, the cashier from earlier. He continues, "and you know how Nick is when people are late." I freeze. Nick? As in, Not-Fang Nick? The two boys pass the tree I'm in and continue on their way. I have half a mind to follow them and find out what Nick is up to. Then I remember that I need sleep or I can't find my Flock. I flop down heavily on my branch to catch some shut-eye.

Squawk! I open my eyes to find a very annoyed blue jay an inch from my face. It stares me down with one eye, and then the next, screeching the whole time. I sit up and try to shoo it away. It lands on the branch and hops from side to side, shrieking. "Oh, shut up, bird brain!" I whisper. It stands fast.

Two light beams land on my face.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" I roll my eyes as Reno and the other dude show themselves.

"Apparently, two boys who can't come up with better dialogue than what they read in their precious comic books."

"Blonde, and snarky. I like it," Reno's friend remarks. I purse my lips.

"You aren't gonna like it when I shove my foot up your -"

"Hey! There's no reason for you to be aggressive! You're that girl from the mall, right? The one who ordered all that food." I huff at the description. "Why don't you just...just come down? We won't hurt you." He holds his hands up surrender-style to show off his lack of weapons. Yeah, right.

"I think I'm gonna pass. Birdy and me, we're catching up on life." I nod my head towards the little bugger. He's still screaming at me. Maybe hoping he'll annoy me out of the tree? The two boys lean in towards each other, obviously discussing something in private. Remember my mutant hearing? Yeah, well, I hear all about their lack of faith in me, but frankly, I don't plan on sticking around long enough for them to trust me. When they turn their backs, I silently start to scale the tree. The foliage at the top should be thick enough the boys can't see me when I take off.

Flying in circles for a few more hours. What fun. I inwardly groan at the thought. Flying for so long today is enough to make any birdkid tired, but add that with my lack of sleep the last few nights, and I'm absolutely exhausted.

"Hey. Do you hear that?" I stop.

"Hear what? I don't hear anything."

"Exactly."

I glare at the blue jay, a few branches below me, and say, "Your timing is impeccable." It glares at me for a split second and takes off. I stare after it more angrily than I should. Aren't we supposed to be related or something?

"Where do you think you're going?" Reno's friend-I think I'll call him Ricky-growls.

I give the two boys my best glare. "Wherever I want to." I turn to climb higher, expecting my glare to frighten them off. I hear a click behind me, and I freeze. They wouldn't-

A shot echoes through the forest. Birds, including my "friend", scatter everywhere. Crap.

They have a gun.

"Look, blondie-" I shoot daggers at them with my eyes. At least, I pretend to. "You're coming with us."

I roll my eyes. As if. "You'll have to get me down first." With that, I plop down on a branch, smirking. I'm too high up for them to throw anything, and they can't tell from where they are, but I doubt these branches would support anybody whose bones aren't hollow. Sure, they could shoot, but odds are they've never even aimed a gun before; aiming up, in the dark, and through a tree give me ample confidence in my bluff.

The two teenagers on the ground mirror my expression. Reno raises his gun. To my surprise, his hand isn't shaking. My smirk falters a little.

Ricky chuckles darkly. "I don't think she realizes that we're pros." He pulls out his own, matching handgun.

And aims it at my head.

And pulls the trigger.

Now, if I wasn't a paranoid mutant freak, I would be dead. Luckily-er, not so luckily-I am, so I'm expecting the bullet to possibly hit too close. What I'm not expecting is the trunk behind me to spit bark at me when it's hit by the bullet. Do bullets ricochet off trees? I don't know, but I duck anyways. Unfortunately, I misjudge my shift in weight and accidentally throw myself off the branch. Effective, sure, but not really what I was going for.

Free falling is a lot more fun when you aren't dodging branches and have wings that will catch you before going splat.

But under the circumstances, I think a rolled ankle is the least of my worries.

A/N: So, what do you think? If it sucks, I just want to remind you that I can't get better until someone tells me it does. If it's awesome, still tell me. It's a nice ego boost.