A/N: Hello everyone! It's Neko, go figure! I'm pretty happy at the response for my first chapter, and I promise, this is going somewhere and yes the Flock is coming in later. Don't worry. And sorry this took so long... If you've read my other story, "Come what may..." then you know all about my procrastination... moving on
Chapter Two
The Beginning of the End... I Guess
You know those times in life when things get pretty dull, boring and repetitive and you just wish that something would happen? Be careful what you wish for. But I'm getting ahead of myself... again.
You know the itching? It went on for three days. Highly annoying. And whenever I scratched it, it hurt! Itch, scratch, ow. Rinse and repeat.
But hey, at least that was over. And enter, on Monday, the dreaded, always hated, gym class. Oh joy.
And this isn't any gym class. We have a weight room and boy oh boy is it... totally not fun. It's in the middle of the day and you are hot and sweaty for the whole next class. Yeah, crappy.
Anyway, there I was, sitting in my "squad" while the teacher passed out our little blue cards that told us what weights we were on and what adjustments we had. As if we didn't have them memorized by the second quarter.
"All right ladies! Stretch on the way down!" Yeah, 'cause that's healthy. I sighed and met up with my friend, Kara Greene.
"Another day, another... how many calories burned?" I said and cracked my knuckles. (It was a bad habit.)
"Who cares? And are those bumps on your back some new fashion statement? Or do you just have cancer?" She touched one of them. A burst of itching and pain came. I winced.
"Didn't notice them..." I said, trying to sound normal. She shrugged and we finally made our way into the weight-room.
I guess a physical explanation of Kara is owed to my loving public. She is shorter and more "womanly" than I am. She has red hair, which she keeps up on top of her head, and blue eyes. She is even paler than I am, and has to pencil in her eyebrows every morning. I laugh whenever she comes in late with no eyebrows.
Anyway, back to my life changing drastically. If these so called "bumps" on my back don't get better soon I'm going to tell my mom. Yeah bumps, I'm going to tattle on you. Why? Because that's the way things go... and cancer could have quiet possibly been what they were. I'm not sure which road I would've taken now that I look back...
So we walk into the weight-room and set up our first set. I was on the bicep curl, which was the bane of my existence. Normally twenty pounds (two, ten pound weights) is my limit. However, today I felt... now it seems like insane but then it was more along the lines of adventurous. I put it on four, just to see what my gym teacher lifted when she did. When we began our little 30-second, 10-rep cycle, I found that lifting 40 pounds was no biggie. In fact... it didn't even hurt a little. We moved on to the stepping aerobic thingys, then onto the over-your-head-major-ouchie-nearly-benching machine. Normally on three, I put it on five. Again, it was easy.
This continued throughout the class and by the time our 20 minute cycle was over, I wasn't even sweating. Kara looked at me and raised one penciled in eyebrow. "Did you not even try at all today?" she asked. I shook my head.
"I don't know what's with me. I was on four on the bicep curl and on the back extension, I was on twelve," I said, rubbing my forehead. My head hurt. She looked at me like I was crazy. I might've been. Again, I'm not sure which path I would've taken.
---
"Sir! Sir! She is in the second stage! She was up to 120 pounds on one machine and lifting 40 and 50 pounds in other places!"
The Administrator walked up and looked at a screen. There she was. He smiled and then let out a laugh. It was full of malice. "Wonderful! Two more weeks...two more. And then... another five days... that puts us ahead of schedule." He started drumming his fingers on the desk. He turned on his heel and looked at a man in a white lab coat standing behind him. "Prepare Subjects 17 and 17.5. I want them ready to leave in nineteen days. Go."
The man nodded and walked out of the room and down a long, windowless, door-less hallway. At the end of the grey hall he placed his hand on a pad and said, loudly and clearly, "Herl." A door slid open and he walked to another door and slid a key-card through a slot. The door slid open with a small hiss of gas. This room was fed its own air, laced with suppression drugs. He walked further into the room, feeling slightly dizzy. He grabbed a mask off of a hook on the wall and then walked over to a girl whom was secured to the wall.
"What do you want?" she asked, her speech slurred. The man didn't answer but strapped the mask over her face. It covered her mouth and nose. It was pumping even stronger suppressions into her system. He slowly undid the straps that were on the wall, letting Subject 17.5 slump to the ground.
"Herl, what are you doing?" asked another man in a white lab coat from the doorway.
"The Administrator said to get Subjects 17 and 17.5 ready for flight. We have nineteen days. Get Subject 17 ready."
"Should I get a Suppression Mask for Subject 17?"
"No. Just get him out to the Fly Room. I'll meet you there."
The other man nodded then and walked out.
Herl grabbed a small rod and lightly nudged Subject 17.5 with his foot. "Up." She slowly stumbled to her feet and nearly fell. Herl steadied her then led her out of the room. He led her down a long hallway and into a medical room. There were two metal tables with leather straps and a rectangular, padded hole at one end.
"What?" Subject 17.5 said, her voice muffled by the mask. Herl didn't say anything but laid her down, so her face was in the whole and her back was facing up. Herl secured her arms and legs.
The door opened and the other man walked in leading Subject 17. He was dressed much lie 17.5 was, in a blue, full body suit with light blue suppression strips. On their knees and thighs were silver guards, which also kept them in check. They both had the odd belt around their waist and thigh. They wore thick blue gloves that didn't cover their fingers and on their shoulders were thick, metal, football like shoulder pads. Subject 17, not only stumbled because of the power sapping, but because his ankles were also chained together.
"There is a pair of the Model 3.5s over there," Herl said as the other man strapped Subject 17 to his table. "I'll get them." Herl walked over to a cabinet-looking wall and, after opening it, grabbed two, teal, metal boxes with little nubs on them. He lightly tossed one to the other who, who caught it easily. Herl walked back over to Subject 17.5's table. He pulled on a zipper on the tight-fitting, rubber-like shirt, revealing a square, metal plate on her back. The nubs on the box fit into the small indentations on the metal plate. Blue light flowed across the plat and box and Herl moved quickly to stand near Subject 17.5's ankles. The other man did the same with Subject 17. Herl pushed a button on a desk and the straps that secures the two's wrists and ankles came undone. Herl pushed another button and the ceiling retracted, showing an open, blue sky. The man nodded at Herl. Herl nodded back and Herl pushed a third button.
The mask fell of Subject 17.5.
The chains fell off Subject 17.
The two of them slowly rose to their feet, standing on the table.
Subject 17.5's eyes locked with Herl's. After a moment he grabbed for his throat, eyes bulging. Subject 17.5's brown eyes flashed and Herl fell down, shaking, his eyes rolled up in his head. After a few moments of passive silence, Subject 17 spoke.
"That's enough, sister. We are free." Subject 17.5 glared at him. Herl stopped convulsing and lay unconscious on the ground.
"But who made us captives so we would have to get free in the first place, brother?" she retorted. Subject 17 glared back at her then turned away.
"Let's go, sister." She nodded.
The boxes on their backs changed suddenly, turning and twisting until they were strong metal wings, with some sort of membrane stretched between each metal "bone." The siblings flexed their wings then shot up into the sky...
xxx
The Administrator watched this display from a monitor in the guard's office. He smiled as he watched the Subjects 17 and 17.5 turn south and quickly fade from sight.
"Wonderful," he said. "Keep track of them. If they go anywhere that we don't want to, bring them back." The guard to whom he was speaking nodded, watching two red dots move across a grid on one screen. He hoped, for the Subjects' sakes, that they didn't go anywhere where the Administrator didn't want them.
xxx
"Mooooom?" I said, drawing out the word, sounding like I wanted something,
"'Mooooom' isn't hooooome yet!" My dad called from the kitchen. I laughed, walked inside and hugged him. He kissed the top of my head then went back to his cooking. I walked to our study and plopped by book bag on the ground. I grabbed a CD and dashed back into the kitchen, discreetly popping it into the player. I hit "Pause" and went to the song I wanted.
"Dad," I said. He turned. I grinned and hit "Play."
A song that he had sung when he was in high school came on. He rolled his eyes then started singing. I smiled and joined in on the girl's part. However, I was soon replaced by my mother dancing into the room, picking up where I left off. She and my dad started dancing around the kitchen. The song ended and another started. I left and went into the study.
We had a routine. I would come home, get my dad singing, watch Mom and Dad dance for a bit, start on my homework, listen to Eryn come home, eat dinner, then do whatever. Except on Wednesdays. Then Dad had to go to the studio and work on some special order. Dad made cakes and sweets for a living.
"Ivy! Ivy! Guess what!" Eryn yelled from the kitchen.
"What?" I called, wondering what a fourth grader could be so excited about.
"Hush, Eryn. Ivy, Blue Moon, come here." That was my dad. I sighed and got up, walking to the kitchen. He had used his "I'm-not-happy-with-you-or-something-you-did-and-you-need-to-fess-up-or-I-will-make-you" tone. However, my mom, dad and Eryn were all smiling. I raised an eyebrow. My dad laughed, moving aside so I could see a small, round cake. I walked up and saw, written in my dad's script-like, icing writing, "Congrats Eryn and Ivy, soon to be big sisters!"
I stood, staring at the cake.
Then I screamed and hugged my mom. She hugged me back and tears flowed down her cheeks.
"Now Megan, don't make me call Tori and Beth and have them bring you a pizza for crying," My dad said, hugging her from behind.
She laughed. "I'm going to have to called Abbey and Kelly. Where is Lauren now?"
"I can't keep track of all your high school friends. And while you're telling Abbey or Lauren, have one of them tell Bill for me," my dad said.
"Will Aunt Abbey and Aunt Kelly visit?" Eryn asked. I secretly hoped Aunt Abbey would come. She was my godmother. She wasn't my biological aunt. Neither was my Aunt Kelly. My mom and the rest of them were so close of friends it just happened that way. Aunt Abbey lived up here with her husband, Uncle Joe. She raised horses and dogs on her farm. Aunt Kelly worked at a historical museum. It was chance that they all ended up in the same, small town in Illinois.
"Probably. Maybe we can go to her farm. I hear that she has a few new foals... and puppies..."
That did it. Our trip was set for Saturday. My mom called up Aunt Abbey and they talked for about an hour. Apparently Uncle Joe had finally published a book he had written in high school. I had read it; it was good, but it had been printed out paged then. Now it was hardcover goodness.
"All right Abbey. I'll see you Saturday. Vale!" She laughed and hung up the phone. As she walked by me I heard her mutter, "IDK my BFF Flavia?" Then she laughed again and twirled down the hall, one hand on her stomach.
She taught Drama and Latin at a public school about an hour away. Aunt Abbey, Kelly and Lauren all took Latin with her in high school. Abbey was going to be a Latin teacher, but changed her mind. Kelly was always bent on history. Lauren was in the Army for a bit, but now she stayed at home with her four children. Her husband was Uncle Bill, Aunt Abbey's brother. Uncle Bill worked at the same school as my mom, teaching Physics.
"Mom?" I asked, sticking my head out the door. She turned and looked at me.
"I got a call from th e nurse today," she said. "She told me that your gym teacher say you on much high weights. Seriously higher. And she saw bumps on your back..." I love it when mothers read minds.
"Yeah. I swear I'm not on drugs."
"I know. I scheduled an appointment with the doctor for next Wednesday." I nodded.
"Thanks."
"If they get worse, tell me." I nodded again. She turned and walked into the kitchen. I smiled to myself and knew that she was smiling too. As I ducked back into the study I felt an explosion of itching on the bumps on my back...
A/N: Well this took a bit, partially because I was, in a word, grounded, so I had to hand write the last couple pages. Thanks so much to my reviews!! You make me smile inside.
And just for a reference, "Vale" is pronounced "Wall-ay" (It's Latin!) And "Flavia" is "Fla-wee-a"
aviator301: Yes the Flock is coming... next chapter!!
MetalMyersJackson: I'll keep writing if you keep reading! )
Ebony Nightinggale: You'll find out more! I promise!!
Again, thanks for reading!!
--Neko signing out!