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POM - Black Wings - Chapter seventeen

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Chapter seventeen: Good night! 

[Skipper] 

A snore entered my dreams and disrupted an unfolding nightmare. With a gasp, I opened my eyes, finding myself in the same cage I’ve been locked in since the arrival, on the same table they’d put us on. It was dark here, a middle of night.

Where are the snores coming from?

It couldn’t be Hans, and not because puffins aren’t capable of such noises. He was sitting with his back turned away, pressed against the bars of his cage, but held his head high, staring at the wall.

Maybe my sight was getting adjusted, or maybe the dawn was about to start, for a head popped into my view. It shifted with its bearer’s breath. The cage let me move close enough to glimpse a guard, slumped on a chair in deep sleep. He must’ve arrived some hours ago. Apparently, he didn’t find watching two birds such an important role as his boss did.

At least he can’t stop me. 

I slipped my wing through the bars and pressed the lock. So many times we’ve escaped this way, and people still haven’t learned their lesson. And this Copenhagen staff isn’t any better.

The lock clicked and the guard jumped from his chair. In a second, his fingers pressed through the bars, yanking the cage shut in his grip. Now I regretted my last thought. 

The man growled something, dug a key chain from his pocket and tore out the ring. His keys jangled across the table. He swiped them into his hand and with the ring secured the door of my cage. 

To the rotten cod with such a light sleep.

***

The rattle of keys in the lock was what finally woke me up. The nightmare hadn’t bothered me anymore and even the sun hadn’t been enough to deprive me of some rest. A miracle... or the sleeping shots. It could've lasted at least for an hour longer... If not the keys.

The guard, snoring until the last moment, was on his feet now, sleeking down his uniform with rapid movements, eyes darting about. 

The door swung open.

“Jensen!” The guard from yesterday stood there astride, eying the cages and the other man. 

The guard inside froze on the spot. Only the arm he lifted in a salute didn’t cope with his ice-carving look. "Ja, sir?" Not a hint of sleepiness had caught in his voice. He threw a glance at the door and gripped the seat back of the chair he was sleeping on just a minute before.  

His supervisor strode across the room and slapped Jensen’s hand, leaning over the guard’s face. “This is not a vacation time for you!” 

Grimacing, Jensen blinked and stepped aside.

The guard wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “It never is, do you understand? Not during the shift!”

“But-”

The guard’s hand swung. Yeah. Slap that fool!

He grabbed Jensen's hat from the floor and slammed it against his subordinate’s face. “Do you even know who are you watching?” 

Jensen made a prompt nod. “O-of course, sir.” A trickle of sweat ran down his neck. He ducked for his hat and pulled it deep into his face.

The guard took a gulp of the air, veins on his temples swelling under his skin, ready to explode. "Why were you sleeping, then? Is that what you’re paid for?”

Nej!

“Then where’s the problem? The thing’s been sent on an another investigation, wasting everybody’s time, and the criminals are sitting right here, ready to take the chance and-”

A noisy protest of the opening door cut the rest of his fuming monolog. The vet stumbled inside, slouched under the weight of his bag, and kicked the way behind him shut. “Whew! Finally. The traffic these days...” He checked his watch, motioning to the guards. “You can go now.”

“I’m the one to give orders,” the guard grumbled but moved for the door.

Jensen backed away from his superior and with a nod, took vet's bag over and hoisted it on the table. “Here you are, uh! What do you carry around in this thing, elephants? ...How do you mean we can go?”

His supervisor marched back, grabbed Jensen by the sleeve and dragged him out, muttering, “ 'How?' You never listen, det er det!” 

“Funny people,” the vet mumbled, shaking his head.

Soon, we were moved to the sill.

For once, nothing obstructed the view out. Not raindrops scattered down the window, not even scraps of fog. The street, gilded with a rare sight of the sun, looked almost inviting.

I turned my eyes to the blank wall. No time for mind-wandering! There were so many things screaming for an answer. How could I escape the vet’s vigilant look? How could I beat a lock that didn't need any keys? 

I yanked on the lock, twisted it over, ignoring that the ring's end dug into my wing. The metal wasn't going to give in, nor the cage’s bars, however thin they were.

Forget it. There had to be a better way. I inspected the room, searching for some kind of a hint, anything to resolve this mess. The furniture’s legs cast the same shadows as ever, familliar shades covered the corners. Even the broom was sitting in one of them, sticky with spider webs. Nothing of that could help me this time. 

My glance fell on Hans’s cage just as he lifted his head. He met my eyes, removed a groomed feather from his beak and glowering, arranged it back in its place. Then he turned away and continued with his preening, relaxed as if there was no cage closing around him. 

Haven’t seen so much creativity in killing time. Such optimist, all of a sudden!

***

It was well after noon when the assistant boy had come in with some fish, announcing his arrival with a slam of the door. Maybe it had become a norm here. One could wonder how much more would the old wood handle. 

“I’m sorry, there was so much to do around the elephants...” the boy said, struggling with the key chain-lock on my cage. He traced it with his eyes, smiling for himself, then reached into his bucket and let a couple of still-wriggling sardines slip to my feet. I'd bet he mouthed a "sorry" to me as well.

A single second it'd take to flee, but two people were more than enough to call for help if I tried. 

The assistant handed Hans his portion. The puffin didn’t bother to look up from the corner. “Come on!” The boy nudged him with a fish. “Don’t want it?” With a sigh, he knelt for the bucket and dropped the fish back, the other hand clenched. “No wonder. Poor birds...”

The vet snatched the lock out of the boy’s grip and pressed it into his palm. “Poor birds? Poor people from the lab!” He locked me up and gave the assistant a harsh look. “At first the heist, now the investigation, and a generator out of order. Their staff just can’t get a break! And you still pity the culprits, is that what you want to say?”

The boy dropped another sardine into Hans’s cage and closed the door. “Don't know if you too, but I’d go mad if trapped like them." He got up, stretching his back. “I hope the investigation will be quick!”

“Well, then enjoy the birds while you can, because-”

A bang shook the window pane. The vet fumbled for the handle and jerked the window open, letting the room's stale, chemical air contaminate the streets. He leaned out. "Hey, you-" He turned back, face scrunched up. "That’s weird..."

The assistant arched his eyebrows. "Huh?"

"Nobody's there!"

What was he thinking, anyway? Instead of some misbehaved children, he should’ve searched for a concussed pigeon. The silly bird would need his help, after all...

The vet snatched up the bucket and motioned towards the door. "Now go and do something beneficial, like reading the books. Your could-have-been professors wouldn’t approve of you spending your breaks rambling on about insanity-inducing cages!" With a swing of the hand, he tossed the bucket across the room.

The assistant gripped the handle and prevented a spilled-fish nuisance in the last second possible. He nodded, cast his eyes upon us and shuffled out with a sigh.

Insanity-inducing? That might work. The window was still open. A would-be way in of a miserable flier - ready to become a way out for me.

I punched the bars. Clink. Kicked them. Clang. Rammed into them, head first. The metal chattered a jingle of victory.

Staring, Hans backed away – not that he got any far. The dumbest of dumb grimaces formed on his opened beak. The chances were high he had never heard about the crazy birds’ disease.

It didn’t take long until the vet came, hands covered in glossy gloves, mouth hidden behind a mouth scarf. "Let’s take a look at you," he muttered, reaching for my cage. His hand froze on the lock. He bent down and gave me an inspecting look. 

I rattled the bars again. What was he waiting for?

He hesitated, face hovering over me. His breath prickled my eyes. I spluttered and snorted, and not only for the sake of my plan. 

The medical cabinet occupied the opposite side of the room but it took the vet mere seconds to hurry over and snatch out his implements. He sneaked at me, pouring a muddy liquid into his needle. A few drops splattered on the ground and formed a puddle under his boot. 

I pressed my back against the bars. Not far enough. Still not far. As if it mattered. I had to get outNow.

He undid the key chain and brought the needle closer to my wings. I sprung forward, away from the glistening point. The window was just a leap ahead. I can make it. If I just could get past the vet’s grasping hand. I pounced aside, inches from being impaled. He grumbled and grabbed at me again. I stepped back, and my foot met nothing but the air.

The floor punched me in the back and the whole room fuzzed in front of my eyes. I shut them tight and took a deep breath, my lungs struggling a while to cooperate. Coughing, I scrabbled at the table’s leg and pulled myself up. 

Nej, not again!” echoed from above. 

I scanned the room afresh. A hiding place didn’t seem useless anymore.

The vet’s shoe materialized in front of my eyes. I thrust my back against the wood. He’d be after me in no time. 

I peeked out. Way to the window was clear but the vet’s steps too close. No chance to make it in time, and the risk too high to even try – the threat of fogged mind, of the struggling to keep sane, to wake up from the haze… if ever. Why couldn’t I pretend something that requires a less hazardous treatment? Curse you, needles!

Or not. Maybe there still was a way. I held my breath, clenched my wings. It must work this time.

I plunged towards the cabinet and jerked at the handle poking out of the bottom drawer. The metal refused to give in. With another haul, my grip slipped and I tumbled back. Cursing, I got to my feet and swiped flakes of paint off my wings. 

Strands of a shadow slunk upon me, along with the vet’s hand. His other hand sprung from under the folds of his coat, the needle aimed at my wing. I shut my eyes. 

A chuckle rang from behind my back. And a howl of laughter. I blinked. 

Bent over, Hans chortled and gasped, almost choking himself at the piece of mysterious hilarity. His roaring, perfect impression of a strangled dingo, jarred on my ears. 

The vet turned towards the source of the howling. Now's my chance. I dug my beak deep into his thumb. Screaming, he unclosed his clutch.

I hit the ground and sprung for the broom. I gripped the stick and stumbled, my muscles giving away under its weight. At least the window was close. Trudging towards it, I swung the broom at Hans's head. Too bad the bars protected him. His laughter transformed into a shriek as the broom clashed with his cage and sent it off the sill.

The vet let me be and hurried to his help. Perfect.

I slipped past his back and to the cabinet. After much yanking, the drawer jerked forwards. I delved into the pile of mess inside, tossing aside all the sacks, boxes and packets. It was there. The gun. Under a pack of needles. Not again! I got a flimsy hold of the corner. The pack fell from my trembling wing before I could toss it away. 

Finally, I grasped the gun, cracked it open and emptied it on the floor. Three pint-sized darts, shrunken even smaller against the tiles. That’s what puts down a giraffe? I checked the bottom. A strand of red fluff peeked from behind a sack. I pulled it out, smirking.

A click. The vet finished calming the poor, panicked puffin, yet still stood above his cage, turned to the sill. He took his needle. I firmed my wing around the fluff and eyed the distance, then released the dart with a swift swing.

My tiny weapon glided through the room and landed in the back of the vet's arm. He slapped at it as if squashing a bug but the point was stuck tight in his coat. His hand groped for the fluff and fell over his shoulder like a dead fish. His face twitched and he slumped forwards, briefly reaching for the sill. His fingers didn’t give him the needed support and he plonked down.

I came closer to the vet’s body, sprawled across the floor. He wasn’t moving, only his chest rose and fell in a steady pattern. I glanced at my remaining darts. If the smaller ones were half as powerful... I put them in my beak and climbed up the table. From there it took only a leap to the sill. I gave Hans a triumphant smirk. “Out of laughs now, aren’t you?” 

He didn’t scowl, nor did he utter one of his remarks, only stared. His eyes went wide. Springing up he raised his wings, suddenly seeming afraid. I laughed to myself. He was in no danger from my darts. I had too few to waste, but he didn't need to know that.

A breath perched at the back of my neck. I spun around, shivering. The vet? So soon?

A figure flitted from the sill and threw itself at me, sending both us against the wood. The attacker swung a metal blade, sending a glint into my eyes. Worse than a blade. A point. I turned away.

A twitch seized my shoulder. I jerked my wing. It rose just an inch, yet still too much to handle, and dropped down. Not at the sill but into nothingness which spread into the rest of me, swallowing up my limbs, my face, my-

Oh! My eyes...

I glanced up. The stranger was there, a shadowy figure leaning over me. It fuzzed back and forth; nothing to cast my look upon. The world turned into a clump of fog floating over my head.

Curse you, need-... 

***

A gust of wind blowing from the window brought some freshness to my mind, melting the scraps of images – the shadow approaching, pulling me to my feet, forcing me to stumble forwards.

The room finally stopped squirming. The bars were here, so at least the cage wasn’t a product of my fantasy. I pressed my wing at the metal. The door opened. Whoever my attacker could have been, vanished before finishing his job.

I shifted a glance over the walls. The shadow disappeared without a clue. Except for my darts. They lay spilled over the sill, as if he abandoned them in a hasty escape.

The vet was still lying motionless on the floor. Chills ran through my back. Is he even alive?

His eyes jolted open and he sat up with a groan. I breathed out. 

Clambering to his feet, he slipped a few times but steadied himself with the help of the table. The dart fell off his sleeve and rolled into the corner.

I reached out for the rest of my darts and slipped them into the cage. I covered them with my wings and slowly laid down, cautious not to press too hard. After all, only a fool would put himself out. 

And I wasn’t a fool to count with.
I hope you'll enjoy this new, somewhat longer read:)

I'd have some questions for anyone able to read through the chapterReading :

1.) Are my paragraphs (still) choppy/clunky?
 1.5) Do the short, one-line paragraphs work well? (edit: this problem should be solved by now - is it?)
2.) The chapter is full of cages, sills, doors, windows... Is it jarring how many times I use those words? Should I look up some synonyms? Or what else could I do with it?
3.) Are my sentences all the same, regarding the common structure and commonly used words? Or is it just the character's voice and okay to keep? 

Any answer to any of those questions would be greatly appreciated:)

edit 15.9.2017: I've fixed some problems with the flow and expanded upon the dialogues a little.

edit 19.1.2018: I've done further minor polishing of the chapter. What do you think? Is there something I haven't fixed yet or something still in a need of polishing?

The next chapter: fav.me/dbgx9ys
The previous chapter: fav.me/db1tg7a
The prologue: fav.me/dagjo67

© 2017 - 2024 IamNoHere
Comments14
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dailydragonlair's avatar

Hi, I'm from :iconprojectcomment: , and here with my thoughts on your work!

I noticed that Tyrosyr commented that this piece feels a bit more like a screenplay than literature. I would agree. However, this doesn’t make it bad. It just means that you may need to step back and decide what kind of text you’re writing. It can still work as literature, but some readers will find it harder to engage with the piece than others. Personally, I liked it very much!

The first sentence is super. It’s so descriptive, and poetic too! The following sentence is a tad long. I’d advise breaking it up into at least two, smaller sentences. I also thing that having two parts to the third sentence makes it less effective. You could just say it was a dark night, or something to that effect, but that is purely an opinion in this case :)

Not having read the earlier chapters, it was rather delightful to discover that the protagonists are puffins! I do like puffins. Even without earlier chapters, you really give the reader a sense of the plot, and where the main characters are in their journey!

When introducing Hans, you run into the same issues with overlong sentences. I don’t want to tell you, (the author!) how to structure your sentences, so I would advise reading up on sentence structure. (Having said that, I also make this mistake a fair bit, sooooo … Sweating a little...  )

The action is fantastically described, and creates a moving picture of events in my mind. However, I should probably answer your specific questions now that I’ve rambled on:

    1.       Your paragraphs are choppy, and that would relate to what you decide to do with this piece. However, this could be fixed with a bit of attention to sentence structure (see 1.5).

    1.5   The one-line paragraphs would work better with shorter sentences. If you have more sentences, which form complete thoughts and have a variety of words (see 2), then the flow of the piece will really benefit.

    2.       I would really advise synonyms, and not just for windows, ledges, etc. I understand that the first draft was in Slovak, which explains a lot of smaller errors. I have tremendous respect for your ability to write well in two languages! To conclude this point: you need a wider vocabulary, but so far, you’re doing a grand job!

    3.       I would agree with Tyrosyr about character voice. It absolutely depends on the character, their history, and what you want to convey about them to the reader.

Overall, this draft is rough, but the work is very enjoyable. I was rather hoping that the protagonist would find the Vet’s stash of tranquilisers and give the Vet a taste of his own medicine. Well, my wish was granted :D  The human characters are not as interesting to me as the puffins, for some reason, but the spirit with which the protagonist defies the experimentation is fantastic.

Keep up the great work!