the burden of wings

13

Tryla was pushing onto a cold operating table, feeling a nurse clip her wings to it so that she couldn't move. Then came the shot, always the shot, the shot that didn't take away the pain but instead just made her woozy and completely aware of her surroundings. She the scalpel cut into her wing as they removed a couple of feathers from her left wing. The pain icy in her drugged veins as it reached her brain stem, broadcasting to her that it hurt. The clenched her teeth as someone else dug a needle in her other wing, taking a blood sample of her wing. 
       “What are we looking for Doctor?” Tryla heard a scientist say to Damson, the sound resonating in her head like a voice in a cave. 
       “Her feathers light on fire, not burning her or her and my clothing. But it burned my hand.” His voice was smooth than hers, the echo not as piercing. 
       “That's very peculiar, Henry must have programmed the serum that way.”
      “Just check it out, see if that is the case.” She hoped that they wouldn't take bone marrow again, she could still remember the pain from a few months ago when the put a needle into her hip. 
        “We may as well get some spinal fluid to check out.” She felt the needle going into the spine, it burned like hot metal bar going into her. She screamed out, praying to anyone listening that the needle would kill her. 
       She was laying on her stomach, so all he could do to calm her down was run his fingers through her hair and rub her wings. Her scream turned into a whimper as her voice became hoarse, from all the nights of crying. She felt the needle leave her back, and the nurse put a band aid in the space between her wings, where the needle had gone. Damson’s hand remained in her hair as the scanner above them activated, causing the tingly feeling Tryla was all too familiar with.

       “You were right Damson!” Tammy yelled as she ran into his office. “Henry did hide the gift in the previous scans. It would never have shown up if we hadn't specifically looked for it.”
       “Yes Tammy, that's all wonderful. But what the question we wanted initially to answer?”
       “The flames were designed to not ignite clothing or fabrics, at least at first. With continued pressure on, it would light.”
       “Her skin must be specifically designed to not burn up, which is why mine did. It's a defense mechanism, clever Henry.” Tammy stood in the office, waiting for another direction. “That'll be all Tammy,” he said shooing her out of the office.
       He sat down at his desk again, propping his feet up on top. He switched on the screen again, still displaying Tryla’s room. After the surgery, he'd left her to eat in her room. He assumed that's what she did judging by the empty food containers. She now sat cradling her legs in the fetal position in a corner of the room. Her eyes were puffy from crying. She always cries after surgery. He thought angrily.
       He switched on a screen on the other side of the room, turning his chair. This one was trained on Nathan and Emerson. They looked to be talking, suspicious. He should probably split them up, but he hoped the boys would slip up and tell him how they managed to escape. He let out a sigh and stood up, deciding to take a walk to calm his mind.

       Nathan and I had to work quickly if we wanted to succeed. We faced away from the camera, chatting about anything we could think of. We hid the wires we were stripping against our chests. When we were done we would be able to shock both locks, ours and Tryla’s, and escape. We just had to not be caught before we got there.
       “You sure this will work?” Nathan said suddenly, interrupting our pointless conversation about football strategy.
       “It has to, that's all there is to it.”
       “Okay,” he said, sounding unsure.
       “It'll be fine, we're all getting out of this,” I said in my most reassuring voice.
       “Not all of you,” Monsieur Damson said behind them. “Put the wires down boys.” He came up with the most brilliant idea during his short walk.
       “What do you mean?” Nathan asked dumbfounded.
       “Well I'm happy to let you both go, I'm in a forgiving mood. We'll be transferring Tryla to a different facility soon. Even if you do tell someone about us, you'll just sound crazy.”