Calen | 1344w

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  I fly for over an hour despite the searing pain I feel in my wing. I can tell I'm only making it worse, but I can't bring myself to care at the moment. Even as Falcon, the toughest version of myself, I'm too afraid to go back to either my home or my hideout. If what those people said is true, they're probably watching both places in case I come back. By now they will have realized the dogs didn't get me.

So I don't go to either place, and instead I find myself at an old abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere. Well, mostly abandoned. I come here about twice a year to make sure it's still standing and waiting for those rare times when I can't take any more and have to escape. Like right now, especially after my fight with Lance.

As soon as I land in front of the door my knees buckle, and I barely catch myself by grabbing the doorknob. By the time I have the door open my wings are gone, and my senses have returned to normal. I can't feel the pain from my wing anymore, but at the same time the pain I feel everywhere else seems much worse.

I manage to get to the single bedroom, dropping onto the bed before groaning and standing again to replace the sheets. I almost cry from relief when I find a stash of clothes I left here, as well as a big fluffy blanket. I fall back onto the bed, pull the blanket over my head, and instantly fall asleep.

I wake to pitch darkness, not even a hint of moonlight coming through the small window across the room. I try to go back to sleep, really I do, but after half an hour of laying there without success I give up. I stand with the blanket still wrapped around my shoulders and fumble through the room as I search for the flashlight I know is in here somewhere.

I find it in the dresser at the foot of the bed, and am momentarily blinded when I click it on. My human eyes had just started adjusting to the dark, and I suddenly wish I was in my falcon form which has awesome night vision. But alas, I'm not and now that I'm thinking more clearly after being woken up by this stupid flashlight, being in my Falcon form would just mean I have an injured wing.

I shuffle toward the kitchen, bemoaning my decision to not get electricity out here. The cabin didn't have any when I found it so I kept it that way. I shuffle around the kitchen for a minute before I finally find the matches I left here. I shine the flashlight around, honestly a bit nervous. The dark doesn't bother me so much, but I'm completely alone out here, if anything were to happen, there would be no possibility of help.

My fears abated for a moment, I hurry to light all my old kerosene lamps, which flood a soft glow all around my little cabin. I click the flashlight off, hoping the battery lasts until I leave and go back to the city.

I sigh and plop down into my big cushy recliner, frowning at the slight puff of dust that comes off of it. I twist around uncomfortably to reach my bookshelf, not feeling like getting out of the chair even if it would be easier to. I grab a random book before putting the footrest up, then curling up on my side and opening my old worn out copy of The Hunger Games. It's one of the few books I managed to smuggle into my old foster home.

I'm almost halfway through the book when I suddenly get a bad feeling. I stand up, dropping the book onto the chair behind me as I head for the front door. As I'm walking I stumble, almost falling before I right myself and stride confidently forward. Something bad is happening in the city, I can feel it. I barely remember to snuff out all of my kerosene lamps before taking off into the air, for the second time in a single day.

This time it takes a mere forty minutes for me to get to the city, as the thought of a fight helps me ignore the pain and pushes me to go faster. I see the problem as soon as I get there, the top five stories of a well known skyscraper are burning, smoke billowing out of the windows as choppers fly around it and fire trucks are parked uselessly below.

I want to dive in and start helping, but I can't risk anyone finding out my identity. Thankfully, my hideout is near here and I make it there quickly. The place is trashed and my usual suit is missing, but as I haul a cabinet away from the wall I sigh in relief. They didn't find my original suit, the one I've kept hidden for the last two years after I upgraded to my new one. This one won't protect me from much, but it's better than nothing.

I shimmy it on as fast as I can, then take a running leap out of the smashed window. It was actually a one way mirror like in interrogation rooms, because I couldn't have anyone just casually looking into my hideout.

My wing is shrieking in protest, as well as a dull throb from my ribs, but I don't let myself feel it as I fly back to the burning building. I glide around it, finally finding the anomaly I was looking for. A single window directly in the middle of the fire, doesn't show a single sign of the room inside being burnt.

I get as close to it as I can, then tuck my wings up against my back and aim for the window. I tumble through it, hitting the floor harder than I had hoped, making my ribs scream in protest. I allow myself a single whimper of pain, then grit my teeth and climb to my feet.

I don't see anyone at first, and the apartment seems intact, everything where it should be and not scattered across the floor like I'd expected. Then again, Macer always did like to be precise, leaving no trace of having been there except for the body.

I march deeper into the apartment, my superhuman hearing picking up a slight noise off to my right. I hurry in that direction, finding myself looking through a thick pane of glass at a pristine white room. A lab, it would appear.

I see Macer first, as he's standing in dark clothes, looming over the man on the floor like the grim reaper. He's saying something, but I'm too distracted to hear what it is. There's a door on the other side of the room, but flames can be seen underneath it, so I can't get in through that way. This window is my best option.

Though I loathe to bring Macer's attention to myself, I bring a fast back and slam it into the glass. To my relief, I see a slight crack begin to form. I do it again, ignoring the feeling of Macer's glare boring into me.

I hazard a glance at him, surprised to see him looking almost conflicted as he looks from me to the man, then back again. Finally he makes his decision, turning his back to me and crouching in front of the cowering man, obscuring him from view.

I double my efforts against the window, ignoring how my hand begins to ache. I could get something to bash the window with, but it would waste precious seconds of time.

Finally the window shatters and I jump through, a jagged edge of glass cutting through my suit and scraping my arm. I feel it start to bleed as I stalk towards Macer.

Then he stands, and my heart sinks through the floor. I'm too late.

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