The Cardinal Bird (1 of Cardinal Series)

Chapter 6

The sound of the metal clanging together reverberated around the warehouse.

"Brandon, are you okay?" someone asked. I wasn't sure who. My heart was still in my throat from my terror.

Silas, Raven, and North were breathing heavily since they had supported the lid on their own.

I got a glimpse at the top of the lid, eyes trailing over the blood stains that were so close to the ventilation hole as Brandon cursed and grumbled about how dark it was from within the belly of the tank.

"Calm down, Brandon," North coached between breaths. "If you upset the water, you'll get it in your mouth."

That comment brought instant silence from within until he spoke up once more.

"Hey guys..." he said.

"Just another minute, Brat (Brother)," Raven said, breathing deeply.

"I second that," Silas said, panting.

"No, not that. I think I found it," he said.

"Are you sure?" Karl asked, serious.

There was a short pause. "I think so."

"What does it feel like?"

"Kind of rectangular. Skinny. Small. There's lots of bits and pieces in here from I don't want to know what the fuck from, but those all feel different from it. This feels less...organic."

The guys looked my way.

My breath hitched, nearly sending me into a coughing fit. "I-I think that's it. He described it dead-on."

"Dead-on?" Raven asked, a sweaty eyebrow cocked.

"Not now," North grumbled before I could respond. "Brandon, can you pick it up with your feet?"

There was a longer wait this time, as if he was trying or debating something. He sighed and when spoke it was with resignation. "I don't want to lose it. It's so slimy I can barely feel it. There's no way I'll be able to get a good grip on it."

"Alright," Karl said, "We'll lift the lid on my count, and then I want you to dive down and get it. Then you'll be able to get out. Are you ready?"

"Fuck no," he said, followed up immediately by, "Yes. Just, just lift the lid. It's suffocating in here. Dark. I hate the dark."

"I know. I owe you one, buddy," Karl said. "Get ready boys."

The boys prepared to lift again. The sheet of steel groaned on its hinges. Brandon's face came into view once more. He was slightly pale but otherwise okay.

I let out a breath of relief that I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Okay," he said, as if coaching himself. He took a deep breath and then disappeared into the inky depths. The water sloshed around, but he didn't surface.

"Is he okay?" I asked, stepping forward.

"I don't know, baby."

My eyes roved the surface of the water as if I could call Brandon to the top by sheer willpower alone.

Finally, the water broke. Brandon splashed up with a deep breath. When he cleared the water from his eyes, he glanced at the deadly sheet of steel hanging over his head. "Am I good to get out?"

"Yes," Raven said.

Brandon didn't even question it. He went to the side and hauled himself up and out, water sluicing down his body in rivulets. He lay down on his back once he had cleared the danger zone and just watched as the rest lowered the lid back down, clanging shut for hopefully the last time.

I zoned out a bit thinking about all of the lives that had been swallowed in there. Slow, agonizing deaths that screamed out their anger and eventually their desperation, begging as they slowly were claimed by the dark depths--depths I was very familiar with myself. It was Nikolai's most favorite method of ensuring cooperation whether you came out or not. He ruled with fear. I was sure that was why all of the people had been so willing to shoot their own comrades when Nikolai gave the word.

I looked out at the destruction and death. I'd heard what had happened, but the visual of it gave it a more visceral reality. Still, I couldn't bring myself to feel more than token pain for them, and most of that was sympathy for those that were forced to join Nikolai or for the innocent families waiting for them at home. It was sad, but any one of them could have stepped up and prevented the death of an eight year old boy. And yet, not one of them had.

"You never answered Brandon's question," North said, his dark eyes zeroed in on my face.

I shifted on my feet a bit, pushing my lip in as I thought. "I'm sorry. What was the question?"

"How long were you in there for?"

"Since yesterday morning," I said, unable to meet the heavy stares coming from them. Movement drew my attention back over towards the tank. Brandon was getting up, picking up his t-shirt to pat himself dry.

I blushed, looking away and decided to walk over to Kaz. I was sure this was the last time I would see him. I knelt down, ignoring the bite of the sharp-toothed grating the platform was made of. I had knelt on worse for longer.

I studied him for a moment. It was less horrific now that I wasn't forced to only look at his eyes. Less accusing.

Now, I got the whole picture. I could recognize the boy that had been so full of life only shortly over 24 hours ago. I could take in his small stature, his orange t-shirt, his arms that he used to wrap around my neck as he climbed into my lap for a hug--the same arm that had the braided twine bracelet I'd made him for his 6th birthday. Laying on his back like this, you couldn't see the damage that had been done to the back of his head.

My eyes stopped on the bloody marks that I had made earlier when I'd tried to unsuccessfully close his eyes. I leaned forward, using my still damp skin to try to wipe away the blood from his face. I don't know why I felt compelled to do it, but once I started I couldn't stop. My vision blurred, making it hard to see if he was clean. I took the sleeve of the borrowed jacket to the hole on his forehead, wiping away what I could. Finally, I closed his eyes. They stayed shut this time.

I took the sleeve and wiped at my face. My eyes roamed over him once more. There was a smiling caricature of a tyrannosaurus, it's giant head hunched over and resting on a bed with wimpy arms dangling uselessly to the side. Underneath it, it said in Russian, "Next time you are sad, think of a T-Rex trying to make a bed."

"He liked dinosaurs," I said thickly. No one said anything. I'm not even sure if they heard me...or if it was intelligible. If it was even in a language they understood. I wasn't sure what language I was thinking. I cleared my throat and tried again, feeling the need to tell someone even if they were strangers. "This was his favorite shirt."

I leaned forward again, noticing blood on it. "Multakhat. (It's stained.)." I swiped at it, but nothing happened. "It's ruined, Huǐle (ruined)." My languages were mixing together as my mind became fraught with despair.

Someone came forward and pulled me into their chest. "It is okay, Aggele."

I was folded into a chest that surrounded every part of me in security and warmth. I smelt the ocean. Tears streamed down my face, but all of the deep sobs had been exhausted out of me over the past day.

Another hand rested on my shoulder. I looked up and blinked to clear my vision. Deep blue eyes stared at me, pain rising in his to match mine. I followed Brandon's arm down to his other hand. He was holding out the thumb drive.

The thumb drive.

_______________________________________

  A/N: Thank you for your support! If you want to receive notifications about exclusive content--such as sneak peeks at the next chapter before it's posted, reasoning behind some of the decisions in the story, or even short glimpses into the guys' POVs, make sure to follow!