Feather Dark

Chapter 23

Noah

According to Pop's paper road map and my mental calculations, we were approximately thirty minutes from our drop point. The suspension on Pop's decrepit van was faring better on the sealed streets of the city limits than the country roads we'd been travelling on, but the odd pothole still jarred the vehicle sporadically.

"Dammit," muttered Keira as another bump caused her hand to shudder forwards, ruining her already messy handwriting. She was writing on the back of a prescription pad she had appropriated from Pop's medical bag; she'd already filled several sheets before screwing them up and tossing them aside, as if they caused her physical anger by their very existence.

This was the second day inside the van. The night of the mission, Pop and I had taken turns in driving through the darkness until dawn broke. We continued, crossing through state lines, avoiding the metropolitan areas, winding down roads less taken in the hope of evading detection.

Keira perched between us, eyes wide, monitoring the road. I explained to her, "You can sleep if you wish. Pop and I provide adequate surveillance, and we'll wake you if there is danger."

She shook her head, tight shakes of her chin, and I reassessed. "Perhaps your hypervigilance is a sign of shock. Pop, do you concur with my diagnosis?"

Pop grunted. "She's been shot and had half of her feathers ripped out, Noah – I'd be amazed if she wasn't in shock. Keira, I have some medication that might help you relax if you want it?"

"No, thank you," she whispered. "I don't want to sleep. I want to talk to Leigh."

"That's wise," I said. "Studies show that survivors of a traumatic event often find comfort in debriefing with others who shared their experience. However, Leigh will be in a safe house, and Squadron protocol calls for strict regulation of digital tech in those environments - including phones."

Keira made a small noise that I interpreted to be distress. Pop said, "I've got burner phones for the two of you. After I drop you off, I'll check in with our central comms and get a location on Leigh and this Sevic bird. As soon as I get there, I'll make sure he calls you, my girl – although you might have to wait a few days, perhaps up to a week depending on where they've landed."

She nodded and began to gently rock herself, a self-soothing behaviour that didn't bode well for her mental state. She asked, "Can I email him?"

"Not secure," I replied.

"What about a letter?" said Pop. "Write something down and I'll see that he gets it."

I said, "That's an intelligent suggestion. There is a neuroscientific principle linking the physical act of putting something in writing and-"

"I need paper," Keira said, her voice strangely hollow. Pop gave her the pad, but rather than write, she stared at the page until the evening stole the light and we pulled into a chain hotel apartment complex for a brief recuperation stop.

The three-room apartment was pleasantly clean and uncluttered. Pop ordered takeout, ate a container of satay chicken, and collapsed into bed. Keira picked at a small dish of rice, which I helpfully pointed out didn't contain the right proportions of macronutrients to keep her functioning at the optimum level, but she was better off consuming the calories while she could. In silence, she departed the room, leaving me alone with the MSG-laden food and the unstimulating selection of cable channels.

In the night, I arose for a glass of water and discovered the balcony door open. Alert, I reached for my non-lethal weapon, the tranquilliser gun I'd kept on or beside my person since Talon had handed it to me. On silent feet, I stalked beyond the billowing white curtains and out into the night air.