Chapter 22: The Flock

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CLANG! Metal hitting cement could be heard from the semi-open window. The gentle whisper of wind swam through the shutters causing a slight bristle of plastic to shake it's way into an audible volume. Everything was so distant, but yet so close. The room was dead silent and the only light entering was from the melancholy moon.

My eyes opened, staring at the ceiling as I wondered what could have been so loud that it would have woke me up. Grogginess was slowly putting me back to bed with eye lids that felt like weights were pulling down on them. Unfortunately, the same clang that woke me up alarmed my senses for a second time. I wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon.

“What was that?” I said as I sat up in bed. I rubbed my eyelids.

“Hmm?” Was the only sound Dahlia made as she put her face in the pillow.

“There was a noise outside. Does that usually happen?”

“What are you talking about? I didn't hear anything.” She still sounded sleepy. “Go back to sleep. We'll check on it in the morning.” From the countless stories Bradley has told me about the Bronx, I knew that was a terrible idea. It could be anything really. A robber, a murderer, a rapist , or something else that was trying to cause mayhem. Maybe it wasn't a person, maybe it was an animal who cut loose from the Bronx Zoo. Okay, now I'm just getting a bit silly. The odds of that are slim to none.

I still didn't feel comfortable just letting it go and checking on it in the morning. If I didn't go check I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. “I'll be back in a few minutes.” I told Dahlia as I lifted the covers off of my body. She sort of made a fussy sound when I stood up.

After putting on my jacket and slipping some pants on, I made my way into Dahlia's kitchen and walked out the side door. With a quick flick of a switch the car port was lit up and on the floor was a bunch of different tools. Next to it were two black boxes that I assumed was knocked over by the wind. I was relieved that no one was trying to rob the place, but then again bummed because I had to clean up the mess in the bitter cold. I bent over and began placing the tools in each box.

Something caught my attention when I was only half way through. It was a conversation coming from a strange voice and someone's articulation that seemed extremely familiar. Taking a few steps closer I was able to pick out the tone and dig into my memory as to who it belonged to.

Yeah man, she's here.”

A stream of lava ran throughout my body. I just wanted to walk straight up to Jackson and punch him in the face for what he has done to Dahlia. I couldn't though, that wouldn't be enough to satisfy me, and plus he had a friend. I definitely had the upper hand here, but I didn't want the whole world knowing I'm a freak and having eye witnesses to prove it.

I stepped forward a bit and poofed on top of Dahlia's neighbors house. Getting as close as I can to Jackson, I was also trying to be as stealthy as possible. Sadly the conversation could not be heard from this position. Perhaps this was one of Jackson's clients? That would explain why he was in the neighborhood. To my knowledge Jackson lived a few blocks down.

The two did sort of a strange handshake and since they were underneath the streetlight I saw the glimmer of a plastic bag. It was the drug dealer's trade off; the dealer grabs the money and the consumer grabs the narcotics. I've heard about it and seen it in movies, but witnessing it in person really made me think about how corrupt drug trafficking is. This man probably can't even afford the drugs, it's probably ruining his life, and yet he can't stop. It has engulfed his entire existence to the point where there was nothing he could do about it.

The two separated then as the man walked away looking extremely excited. Jackson was making his way toward the end of the block, me teleporting from roof to roof as silently as I could to keep up with him.

That's one thing I've been working on quite a lot, is my teleportation. I've actually found it extremely easy to control once I have got the hang of it. My tactic is to just think of the place I want my body to be and then I just poof there. I am terrified to attempt to go through walls or a solid object, for I don't want my fate to be the same as Amanda Wesley.

I have also been taking advantage of being a Rappeler. Being able to look at something and then instantly remember it is absolutely fantastic. I use it to study, to read, to watch movies, and even to learn. I taught myself how to play “Turkish March” by Beethoven in seconds by watching someone else's hands. It's quite the nifty secret weapon in learning things faster than anyone else could.

Jackson was making his way into an alley, a perfect place for me to strike.

I poofed to ground level and began stalking Jackson from behind. He didn't notice. Picking up my pace, I could hear the faint blaring of music, the familiar sound of when someone has their headphones in with their tunes too loud. Why was Jackson making this so easy for me?

Voices could be heard surrounding me, but the chatter was blocked out as my only sight was red. If people were around I didn't care, I could not let this opportunity pass me by. Placing my hand on Jackson's shoulder, he turned his head around slightly as I slammed him up against a brick wall. My fists clenched up around the loose fabric in the front of his shirt as I lifted him off the ground. I felt a few heads turn my way.

“You thought you could take advantage of her, didn't you? You thought it would be alright and you would never have to pay any kind of consequence?” I ignored the other people in the alley. Jackson a smirk on his face, as if what I was doing was supposed to be some kind of joke. I was fed up with it, I should just do away with him and get it over with. “Well now you're going to pay the--” A hand was placed on my shoulder, yanking me back and forcing me to let go of Jackson's shirt. There stood five big guys who didn't look so friendly, all having the same tattoo of a bird's nest on their forearm.

Maybe I should have paid attention to who was watching. I was so enraged that it hadn't occurred to me these guys might try to defend Jackson.

One of them lunged at me, throwing a fist my way as I was not ready. My head snapped to the side and my tongue squished between my teeth due to the tightening of my jaw. I staggered backwards to try and distance myself as much as possible, turning my palms around and laying them against a cinder wall.

“You picked the wrong night to cross paths with Crow's Feet.” The man who punched me snarled. Crow's Feet? Was Jackson one of them?

“At least the Crow is gonna' have some grub tonight!” I couldn't tell who said this, but it was definitely coming from behind the first guy. Everyone laughed at the comment, including Jackson. They all lunged forward at once, me gulping and trying to think on my toes.

You know you can lay down too, right?”

I wish I would have stayed in Dahlia's bed. It was so warm and I had a pretty girl's arms around me. But since I let my own stupidity get the best of me, it was possible I was going to die in a sheet of snow.

I've gotten lucky with Chance a few times, but I don't think my leprechaun-like chances are going to get me through this one.

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