Air Born | Generation Icarus #1

Tyler - I am Hawk

That night, I lay awake for a long time and listened to Miguel and Tori — no, Kestrel — as their breathing softened into sleep. Gazing up past the rough lean-to of hacked branches and leaves, I waited for the moments when the gentle breeze brushed the forest canopy aside and allowed me to catch a glimpse of the stars.

I am Hawk.

I turned the name over and over, trying it out in my head in a hundred different contexts. Serious, silly, happy, excited, angry, sad ... No matter how I said it, it seemed to fit right, like a favourite sweater and jeans. I imagined my parents and sister calling me Hawk, and that was exciting enough to block out the pain that always came with thinking about my family.

But hearing Kestrel say it out loud had been more than exciting. It had felt ... momentous. Meaningful ...

Meant to be?

Smiling to myself, I shifted onto my side, rustled deeper into the sleeping bag and closed my eyes. Exhaustion and delirium would not help me fly any faster or higher.

As I drifted into sleep, my last thought was how I'd caught Miguel looking at Kestrel as she flew above us for the very first time, with the sunlight filtering through and around her golden feathers.

*

"I'm already starving again," I moaned, only half-joking, and whacked a branch out of my way.

Miguel chuckled. "I told you not to eat everything you had left for breakfast."

"What's the point in saving lunch if you die of hunger before you make it that far?"

"We've been hiking for less than an hour, Ty— Hawk." Miguel, in the lead, didn't turn around as he zig-zagged down the hill. "We haven't even made it to Angel's Meadow yet and then we still have to pick up the trail that Kestrel took in here."

"I know, I know."

As I took a swig from my already half-empty water bottle, Kestrel appeared in my peripheral vision. When something touched my fingers, I thought for a second that she was putting her hand in mine. Then she squeezed my fingers closed around an object, and I realised it was a chocolate bar.

Choking on my mouthful of water, I tried to say thanks but she put her finger to her lips and winked. Then she cheerfully skipped ahead in line and began following in Miguel's footsteps, starting a conversation about how far it was to the clearing and which way to go to get back to the trail.

After that point, we began hiking much more carefully and quietly, keeping our eyes and ears open wide for potential hunters. When we did reach the clearing, we were careful to walk around it rather than through the exposed empty space. But it wasn't until we came to a low gully which Miguel said was the halfway point between the clearing and the trail, that I picked up the first hint of other people.

"Guys," I hissed. Miguel and Kestrel instantly stopped examining the map and lifted their heads, straining their sensitive hearing, their black and gold wings shifting uncomfortably. The anonymous voices were still quite distant, but definitely coming closer.

"That way," Kestrel suggested, pointing up the rock wall. With her heavy pack strapped to her chest, she began to climb, flapping her wings as quietly as she could to boost her ascent.

Miguel and I scrambled up after her, imitating her technique. Within a few moments, we were retreating from the lip of the gully, trying to step on the softest parts of the forest floor.

As the group of hikers emerged and turned into the gully, I dropped to the ground and urgently motioned for Kestrel and Miguel to do the same. Silently, we waited for them to pass.