Bloodfeather

Benny was worn ragged, Mick had woken him at the crack of dawn to muck out the barn stalls but Betsy nosed at him so he didn’t get as much work done as he knew Mick wanted him to but he said nothing to him and he was pretty sure Mick had a soft spot for the pregnant heifer.

He laid star-fished out in the snow in front of the frozen koi pond, letting snowflakes fall into his eyelashes. The cool crisp air burned his lungs with every inhale, but it felt good. The crunching of densely packed snow made the hair on the back of his neck stand, putting him on alert but as he pulled himself up into a sitting position, Mick was crouching down next to him, handing him a steaming mug of hot chocolate, tiny marshmallows barely afloat as they melted.

Benny pulled his beanie further down over his ears as he accepted the mug blowing across the surface. Neither of them said anything as they sipped their hot chocolates, snow falling in fat flakes. It was nothing but stillness and somehow; it was beautiful out here and he could only imagine what it looked like during Spring.

The pond was encased in a thick evergreen shrubby landscape that encumbered the estate. Large stone busts stood at either end of the pond, weatherworn. Luscious rose bushes would bloom in Spring, lavender and honeysuckle would be thick in the air on a cool March night and he sorta longed for that. It would be a milestone in how long they had survived out here, and that seemed out of reach.

Mick set his mug down, cupped his hands, and blew into them. “C’mon in. You’re gonna catch your death.”

Benny exhaled in a huff, his breath coming out in a fog.

Mick preferred oil lamps to light once the sun went down. It helped keep him off the grid, and keep him and Lux safer just in case the whirlybirds flew overhead.

A fire crackled in the fireplace in the living room, the house cozy and warm as they ate roast and potatoes with garlic butter dinner rolls. Bee’s head laid in his lap as he ran his hand over the dog’s fur; her tail thumped on the wood flooring.

It had only been roughly five weeks since Benny was shot in his left pectoral, a clean shot through and through, tearing through his beautiful white wing. It was on the mend and the longer they stayed with Mick, Benny could pretend he and Lux were to but he knew that was too good to be true and They would find him eventually and Lux and Mick would get caught in the cross-fire.

*

Benny stood in the bathroom fresh from a shower, a towel slung low on his hips as he swiped away the steam from the mirror, a pair of sharp shears in his other hand. When he looked back at himself in the mirror, he was startled to see Mick standing there, leaning against the door frame. Benny swallowed thickly as Mick moved into the bathroom, the spacious room getting smaller with every step.

”Boy, what do you plan on doing with those?”

Benny bowed his head, the shears feeling much heavier in his hands. “Just thought if I got rid of them myself, then no one could take them from me. Maybe even stop looking for me.”

Mick reached out to touch Benny’s left wing but Benny fledged causing the wing to move out of reach. He dropped his hand.

Benny’s eyes shot up to the mirror, meeting his eyes.

“I suggest you put those down.”

Benny tossed the idea around in his head for a moment before he ultimately slid the shears onto the countertop with a huff. He turned around to face Mick, shame and guilt clear in his eyes, and he brought his hands up to scrub over his face.

Mick pulled Benny into his chest, rubbed his hand between his shoulder blades, careful to not touch his wings. ”Listen, no one's gonna take your wings and they’re damn sure not gonna take you, not as long as you’re here, you hear me?”

Benny nodded, not really caring whether Mick was telling the truth.

“Lux and you are safe here. You don’t gotta watch over your shoulders anymore.”.

*

The wind whipped around the house, making the shutters rattle the windows and the old house creak. Snow was coming down heavily outside, and in the distance, he could hear the cows mooing from the barn.

Benny tossed the quilts off as he threw his legs over the twin bed and peeked out the blinds. He could see a light from inside the barn and knew it was Mick with Betsy. He rushed over to the desk where his wool sweater was thrown haphazardly on the back of an old desk chair and slipped it over his head as he shoved his feet into the old pair of snow boots and nearly ran out the back door and down the steep slope to the barn.

He slid open the rickety door and saw Mick sitting in a hay pile with Betsy’s head in his lap as he rubbed her swollen belly. Benny dropped to his knees next to Mick as he met his eyes. “Is she okay?” Worried, clear in his tone and Mick shrugged as Betsy let out a low moo. Benny rubbed along her jaw. He settled into the hay. It was going to be a long night.

Benny’s eyes popped open, realizing he had fallen asleep as he frantically searched for Mick and Betsy. Mick was standing at a stall and their eyes met, solemnly, and Benny knew.

*

Benny sat next to the pond. It was quiet today; he had heard no noise from the barn and he wondered if all the cows felt the sorrow that Betsy was going through. Benny had never witnessed such a death like that, it’s not like he had any connotation of any death really, but the sadness of the loss was heavy on his chest and he couldn't process how he was feeling. He wasn't even sure what Mick did with the deceased calf, not that he wanted to see it being disposed of, but such a large animal. No way you'd bury that in your backyard.

He felt a sob bubbling from his chest as he looked out into the distance; the sun was just slipping beneath the mountains, the sky a multitude of pinks and purples. Sunsets was something he didn't think he could ever forget with his time here on Mick’s ranch. It was heaven on earth.

He toyed with the locket on his neck; it was his baby sister Selene’s; it was the only object she shoved in his hand as his mom pushed him from the house on Christmas Eve as the Agents swarmed the houses.

He glanced behind him, smoke billowed from the house and he knew it was Lux starting a fire in the fireplace, the temp was slowly dropping, he could feel it in his bones as he reached up and pulled his beanie further down over his ears.

*

Benny blinked his eyes open as Lux was hovering over him, her hands on his shoulders as she had been shaking him. He scooted up the bed and rubbed at his eyes. “What time is it?” He asked as he took notice the room had a blue hue, which meant the sun hadn’t merged over the horizon just yet, but he saw the glassiness in Lux’s eyes and panic and fear crept low in his belly.

He scrambled from the bed. Outside, he could see dark smoke billowing from behind the mountains. He could hear the faint calls of people and hounds barking.

Up above, the low thrum of helicopters. “Shit.” He swore as he ran his hands through his hair. “Oh, shit.” He turned to her as her bottom lip quivered and a tear rolled down her cheek. Lux chewed on her index fingernail. “Where’s Mick?”

“The garden.”

He didn't even bother with shoes or a shirt as he ran down the stairs, his hand snatching up the kitchen scissors as he barged through the back door, letting the screen door bang off the hinges. The sun had melted the snow away, leaving behind sludge as his bare feet slopped through the icy mess until he’s just feet from Mick in the garden.

Mick’s face dropped as he saw him standing there. He shook his head as he stalked over to him, putting a hand on his chest. “You need to go back inside. Now.”

Benny shoves his hand away. “I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of running, I'm tired of always being terrified that today will be my last, but more so, I'm tired of them having that control over me and I'm not taking Lux or you down with me. This ends now.” He takes a few steps forward, and he notices the pond is no longer frozen solid. He could see through the thin sheet of ice now and underneath, bright orange specks that were the kois swimming.

Benny brought the scissors up, his heart thumping wildly in his chest because he knew it was going to be agonizing and, hopefully, he'd black out before the pain got to that point.

“Boy, we’ll find a way out of this. You don’t have to do this.” The look in his eyes reminded Benny of Betsy when she delivered her calf, bewilderment, a scared animal. He took a step closer and when Benny looked up, Lux was heading for them.

“They won't take me winged. They can have me after this and I won't even care because I'll be useless to them. Maybe I'll even get thrown out in the Sanctions.”

“Benny.” Lux pushed out between breaths as she stood slack-jawed.

Without another word, he reached up over his head and made the first cut with a cry; it brought him to his knees; he panted out a hefty breath as he dropped the scissors with a shaky hand, covered in his blood. Benny could feel it trickling down his back, rolling over the curve of his ribs. “Mick.” He choked out, and he watched Mick and Lux exchange looks as Mick picked up the scissors from the ground.

“Mick! No. What are you doing?” She screamed as she shoved at Mick’s back. “You can’t do this. Please.” She begged with a cry, but Mick turned to face her, grabbed her wrists and held them tightly together as he shushed her.

Benny’s head jerked up as he could see a thrall of men with AKs heading toward them, the dogs yipping at their feet as they had caught his scent. “Mick.” He barked out, and he bowed his head as he squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a shrilling scream as he could hear the blades shredding through bone and meat, and he wondered if it was like carving up an elk like Mick was accustomed to.

He pressed his face into the ground, the melted snow cool on his flushed skin as he felt the bile rising in his throat. Benny felt the ripping of his wing away from his body in a sick squelch and as the discarded wing fell beside him, tattered and bloody, vomit spewed from his mouth.

He and Mick met eyes, guilt and sorrow, and then shock took over.

*

His eyes cracked open, vision blurry as he felt a sharp, dull pain between his shoulder blades. The thrum of the helicopter rotor was deafening. Benny tried to sit up, but he was bound to a stretcher.

A hand reached over to touch his chest, holding him still, and Benny squinted up at the masked face, a semi-automatic in his hand. “Birds can’t fly without wings.”

Benny licked at his cracked lips as he closed his eyes.