The Phoenix Creation, page 18
‘What then though, Alya? After they get here? They can’t live in an underground bunker for the rest of their lives.’
‘No, they won’t, Hanuel. I think the plan is to get them all here first and then reunite Madison and Leo at a later date. It might be legally or illegally accomplished, but I guess Leo knows what he’s doing, he’s quite smart if you remember.’
‘I do remember,’ smiled Hanuel. ‘He’s a nice guy but I just worry about what could happen to the rest of you if you’re found to be helping him.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ dismissed Alya breezily. ‘They can’t touch me, I’m a minor.’
Hanuel grinned at her, he was always in awe of Alya’s ability to see the bright side of everything.
They trotted up the steps together and into registration where they were greeted with roars of delight and fists on desks creating an almighty thundering noise which reverberated down the halls to the other classes.
‘He’s back!’ yelled Berlin, as he disregarded their teacher’s attempt at admonishment and stood on his desk pointing at Hanuel as if people needed reminding who he was.
Alya smiled at Hanuel as his cheeks coloured and he tried good-humouredly to silence his classmates.
Hanuel felt a bit silly being so theatrically welcomed home but he felt he owed his peers a word or two.
‘Thanks for the cards you guys, and the cookies. They were well received. It’s good to see you all.’
There were nods from his classmates as they sobered up and reflected collectively at Hanuel’s narrow escape. Hanuel could see that his very presence had lowered the mood entirely, at the beginning of what should be a new and exciting term, so he turned to Alya and grabbed her, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her tightly.
‘And the moral of the story is …’ he said loud and clear, ‘don’t ever go flying with this one here.’
Alya glared at him.
‘But, if you ever need rescuing, then DO go flying with her.’ Hanuel released her and stepped back and led a round of applause that made Alya want to melt into the floor.
Lancelot had joined Berlin on his desk and they led the C1 anthem to which their teacher gave up and sang as loud and enthusiastically as her students.
As the bell went the class careered down the hall to their timetabled lessons patting Alya and slapping Hanuel on the back as they went.
Hanuel appeared to take his new celebrity status well, but Alya was slightly mortified and she wished she’d left her hair down to hide her face.
She and Hanuel made their way to PE class and Hanuel sat on the side as he’d been strictly instructed to do. No physical exertion for a further two weeks until he’d had his final check-up. He wasn’t as bothered as Alya would have been if it had been her forced to sit out. He was happy to wait until he was fully healed before he flew again.
Alya finished tying her trainers and looked up at her favourite teacher Mr. Fallow who waited patiently, a clipboard in his hand a new teacher by his side.
Alya glanced the newcomer up and down while trying to avoid being jostled by an excited Berlin and Lancelot. She’d vaguely acknowledged some of her other classmates after the summer break including Paris who was also in her PE class. She couldn’t help but feel Paris’s eyes upon her and wondered if the interest had evolved due to her being Tal’s sister. Although Tal hadn’t said a thing throughout the holidays, he’d continued to disappear most days, and always smartly dressed. Alya didn’t care what he was up to, or Paris, for that matter. Besides, she’d had plenty of distractions over the summer, what with Hanuel in hospital and collecting provisions for when Madison and the others arrived; she’d barely had time to think.
‘May I introduce you to Mr. Hawk,’ said Mr. Fallow politely, waving a hand at his colleague. ‘Mr. Hawk, is part of a new curriculum, training scheme, designed for your age group, which will see all of you trained in a minimum of one martial art, in addition to your core sports.’
Mr. Fallow beamed as if he’d just delivered the best New Year’s present ever. Some of Alya’s classmates groaned and one of the girl’s even burst into tears at the thought of more sports. Alya grinned. About time they spent more money on sports, her favourite thing in the world.
Mr. Hawk stepped forward and with a broad grin ran them through the different types of martial arts they might be participating in, complete with a little demonstration of each.
Some of the girls whispered silly comments as Mr. Hawk flexed, jumped, spun, and yelled with each demo. The boys were captivated and so was Alya.
‘Behind that line,’ snapped Mr. Hawk, as he brought out props for his continuing repertoire. He set up a target and produced a large leather wallet which he unfurled upon the floor to reveal real throwing knives.
Alya and her classmates gasped and then watched as Mr. Hawk chucked his arsenal at the target, scoring a perfect bullseye with each. He introduced a bit of theatrics and spun dramatically off the floor ensuring his wings whipped back behind him before he released the blades, making his target with precision each time.
The class erupted into applause, whether they liked PE or not, none of them had seen anything like that up close before and the nearest they’d come to it was as an Olympic sport on the TV.
‘Oh wow,’ clapped Alya. Her mind was buzzing. How exciting this was. Were the school really going to train them to use knives?
‘You need a special licence to be able to practice these,’ said Mr. Hawk with a grin as if reading their thoughts.
‘Uh,’ huffed Alya, miffed at the tease.
Mr. Hawk pulled out a small spearhead and attached it to a lightweight metal pole which he also launched at the target.
‘Javelin with a difference,’ he said, with a wink, walking to retrieve the spear and bringing it in close so the class could examine it. ‘This you will be trained in,’ he nodded. ‘For those of you who pass the accomplishment tests that is. The spear is a wonderful weapon, used by many ancient tribes for hunting creatures,’ then he lowered his voice, ‘humans too.’ Mr. Hawk turned to tidy the weapons away.
The class giggled and in the interlude they re-enacted some of the opening scenes from the Olympics, as they’d witnessed them, hollering like warriors as they pretended to slice and dice each other.
‘Settle,’ announced Mr. Fallow eventually, and the class came quietly to attention. ‘Well, I’m sure we’d all like to thank Mr. Hawk for his most excellent introduction to martial arts.’
The class applauded enthusiastically and then simmered again when asked if they had any questions.
Berlin and Lancelot ended up asking silly questions to which there was no answer; ‘how many animals at the zoo can we spear in one day?’ said Lancelot, in which he was asked politely to shut up by Mr. Fallow.
‘How many martial arts should I take to become governor of South-East?’ said Berlin, to which Mr. Hawk stood quietly frowning.
Paris’s friends giggled but Paris just rolled her eyes, used to the stupid ways Berlin and Lancelot would try to get her attention.
‘Any other questions?’ said Mr. Fallow, realising his students were losing interest.
‘Yes,’ said Hanuel, from where he sat quietly observing. ‘Why do any of us need to learn martial arts? There has been peace on C1 for over two-hundred-years, what possible reason could they have for wanting to teach us this?’
There was silence as Hanuel’s reasoning was processed by even the least interested student, and Alya’s eyes widened as she realised, she too had overlooked the fundamental question; why?
‘Er, good point, Hanuel, but that’s perhaps something you need to raise with the student council. I guess the government is trying to reintroduce a historical legacy to us all, as you saw at the Olympics. Now then, the next lesson is Wednesday, and we will be practising outside while the refurb starts. So, bring water, bring energy because it’s going to be a track day.’
The groans said it all as the class dispersed.
Alya waited on Hanuel while he adjusted his bag so that it was not clashing against his tender ribs.
‘Strange, isn’t it?’ said Hanuel, as they started to head towards their biology class.
‘What is?’
‘The whole martial arts thing.’
‘I see what you mean,’ nodded Alya.
It was strange that the government would seek to reintroduce the things that they’d fought for years to suspend. Ceremonial purposes with actors were understandable, and as an Olympic sport Alya couldn’t agree more, but introducing these sports to all high school kids was maybe ill-advised. Alya herself had done a small amount of karate for keep fit and she understood if some people wanted it for self-defence, especially if you lived in, or visited, East-Side, but knife throwing and spear-hunting for teenagers? She may as well book a bed in the hospital now, especially if Lancelot and Berlin passed the accomplishment exam.
Hanuel’s and Alya’s celebrity status had worn off by lunchtime, and tales of their lucky escape had moved down in the rankings after some girl’s story about her lucky escape from armed robbers over in East-Side. It transpired that she was safely out of reach across the street, and eating dinner at her grandma’s, at the time, but it was still deemed a lucky escape.
English had been cancelled in place of a special assembly that they all dawdled to, taking seats in the hall as the principal fluffed some papers in preparation.
‘Good afternoon,’ said the Principal, as he welcomed the whole school back from the holidays.
Alya rolled her eyes with boredom and Hanuel quietly teased her about not falling asleep.
‘And so,’ said the Principal, ‘it is my pleasure to introduce to you, the year two, Patrol cadets, of Continent One, South-East!’
There were shrieks from the girls as the doors at the back of the hall were flung open and in perfect time to each other jogged Patrol cadets dressed in service uniform: navy trousers, double-breasted jackets, black desert boots, the whole ensemble, complimented by the iconic navy beret with the ‘P’ sewn upon it. Each had a utility belt with actual weapons attached; a taser one side and a baton the other.
The audience gasped at the thundering sound of boots on the floor and the bristling presence of the cadets, as they moved, as one, down the central aisle. At the end, they disregarded the steps at either side of the stage and beat their wings twice, landing on the stage, and then parting left and right and forming a line like a human shield across the width of the stage.
The girls screamed in delight, and some of the boys cheered, but Alya looked at Hanuel and he looked at her. There, in the centre of the stage stood Raiden, and like a tiger who was hunting the prey that got away, he’d already honed in on the pair of them and reminded them, with a menacing glare, that he wasn’t done with them yet.
‘Are you shitting me!’ growled Alya. She grabbed hold of Hanuel’s hand to keep him from shooting out of his seat. ‘Hanuel, you can’t,’ implored Alya, desperate to calm her friend before Raiden saw the impact his presence had made. Alya scanned the stage for Tal who stood about three cadets down from Raiden. She was going to kill her brother at her earliest convenience for not divulging this to her. She was going to kill Raiden first, and her thoughts immediately turned to the pristine glinting knives Mr. Hawk had introduced them to earlier. She felt her face grow hot and then a trickle of sweat ran from her brow, her fists were clenched almost as hard as her teeth.
A couple of broken ribs ought to do it, see how he liked it after several weeks in the hospital. She’d have to get him in the air first, there was no way she could punch that sort of break from the ground. She’d have to use her feet and drop from altitude. It was going to be difficult but not impossible.
She felt Hanuel’s hand on her knee as she glared at Raiden who remained professional up on the stage, while his unit chief introduced the honourable profession of Patrol.
She glanced at Hanuel as his calming touch steadied her jittering knee and noticed that he’d entirely regained his composure and was now willing her to do the same.
She could even pick Raiden up herself, she felt sure. If she got to the roof of the school she could swoop down and grab him by his neatly pressed lapels then launch him skywards. He’d be forced to fly or land nastily, and humiliatingly. However, if she knew Raiden, it should be easy to entice his arrogant ass into the sky. He’d want an excuse to get her, so it wouldn’t take much, and once he was in the air, Alya was certain she’d have the advantage. She’d seen him fly. He was tame and unimaginative. He’d been trained by Patrol; safety first. A concept Alya was more than happy to compromise.
‘Alya,’ whispered Hanuel, in her ear. Berlin on the other side of her had finally figured out who it was on the stage that was making his friend sweat, and he’d applied his hand to her other knee.
‘Aly,’ he said quietly. ‘Not worth it.’
‘Shit,’ muttered Alya. She had to calm down, her heart was racing. She peeled her eyes away from Raiden and looked at the floor sucking in deep breaths and trying to regain control. She blocked out the Patrol chief’s monotony as he extolled the virtues of serving your continent, your district, your family and friends.
Alya focussed on the blood rushing through her head and thought how lovely it sounded, almost like wind rushing by at high speed. She then managed to zone out and thought about Poppy and Grandma and her next visit to them with supplies. Before she knew what had happened Zeph had appeared in front of her and she looked up at him as she’d done the moment he’d broken the door to the pod and laid Hanuel gently on the floor. Alya’s breath arrested as she scanned him slowly taking in every detail that she hadn’t had time to do before. His blonde wings were a shade or two lighter than his wavy mid-length hair and his eyes glittered blue like the ocean on a blazing hot day. Alya remembered his fish-skin shorts and his sandals with the leather straps wrapped up around his legs. She smiled as she remembered her first thoughts; that she’d been rescued by the mythical God Neptune, but then she remembered the look in his eyes which was utterly human as he’d gazed at her like she was a curiosity, and then at Hanuel in sympathy as he realised he was badly hurt.
Alya’s breathing had returned to normal and her fists unclenched. Nothing had changed, only her composure. If she was going to take Raiden down, she needed to be calm and focussed. She quietly thanked imaginary Zeph for his calming influence upon her mind, and added a light smile to her face as the chief spoke, after all, it was best to lull your prey into a false sense of security.
The Patrol chief had droned on for two hours.
‘Let me out,’ muttered Alya, hustling to get past her friends.
‘Alya,’ soothed Hanuel. He grabbed hold of her wrist. ‘Don’t you do anything, Aly, let the authorities deal with him, ok?’
‘The authorities?’ scowled Alya. ‘They’ve done nothing. Did you see his smug, pig face?’ She wrenched her wrist out of Hanuel’s grasp and shoved past the people on her row.
‘Berlin,’ gasped Hanuel, catching his breath as he began to panic. ‘Stay with her. Don’t let her anywhere near Patrol.’
‘Got it,’ nodded Berlin, and he marched after Alya staying immediately behind her all the way. She rushed to the lockers and retrieved her gym kit not bothering to find a changing room; she pulled off her skirt and blouse and donned her light blue, gym shorts and vest.
‘Alya!’ shrieked Berlin, embarrassed as his friend revealed her underwear, and trying his best to look away, no look, no look away.
‘You’d better not try to stop me, Berlin,’ growled Alya, ‘or I’ll put you in the hospital too.’
‘Thanks,’ muttered Berlin. ‘I thought we were friends, but never mind.’
‘We are, which is why I’m giving you a heads up.’
‘Damn, Alya, c’mon …’
Alya slammed her locker shut and took off down the hall stopping to turn around and issue Berlin a final warning.
‘Stay!’ The look in her eyes said it all and Berlin backed down watching her run off down the hall towards the gym. He high tailed it the other way to get Hanuel’s advice and find some backup.
Alya exited through the gym doors and out onto the basketball court, she jumped and took off knowing that if any of the teachers saw her they’d be up after her issuing detentions for flying on school grounds without permission, although what she was about to do was worth far more than a detention or two. No doubt she’d spend a couple of weeks at the Pen, but it would be worth it! She heard the school bell go and then the sound of voices over near the main gates as students started to head home. She could see the Patrol bus, a nice sleek charter for the cadets, pulled up outside the main gates just as she came to land on the roof of the gym.
‘Hey!’
Alya looked up in horror as she saw the workmen for the refurb assessing the area. They wore hard hats and high-vis vests and were utterly incensed that she had landed in a work zone.
‘Get down now!’ screamed one of the men, who started advancing his great bulk towards her at high speed.
Damn it. Alya dropped over the side to the ground and then ran back in through the main building. The element of surprise was getting away from her and she had nowhere else to launch from. She ran to the main entrance where students hustled, or stood catching up with their mates before heading home. She stood at the top of the steps watching as the Patrol cadets walked across the yard towards their transport.
‘Alya!’ cried Hanuel, spying her through the crowd.
It was now or never, she spread her wings, and one or two alarmed looking students cried out as she bowled them out of the way, her knees bent in preparation and she had managed to flap her wings once before she felt a terrifically strong pair of arms grab her around the waist and dump her back on the ground on her butt.
‘What the … Red?’ gasped Alya, the surprise at seeing him standing in front of her cut short her mission. ‘Red!’ demanded Alya, scrabbling to her feet. ‘I have to …’
‘I saw you on the roof,’ said Red, ‘and I guessed at what you had in mind when I saw Patrol lined up outside.’
