22 April 2012
Quinn found herself above her cell, facing three people. The dark haired boy who had hauled her from her pallet, and two other young adults who both wore watched her with disinterest.
One of the two was a boy, also dark haired, but rather dark brown than the first boy's black, and his hair was longer, hanging down the sides of his face in droves. His eyes were a dark brown, his skin a shade darker than Quinn's own. He watched Quinn down his slender nose for a prolonged moment before turning to the other boy.
'Jonah, hurry up. Stop gawking at the girl and close the rafter back up.' His voice held notes of disdain and unmasked authority. The first boy - Jonah - hurried to comply. Reinforcing Quinn's theory that the second boy was in charge.
The female of the group had been watching Quinn from under a choppy brown fringe throughout this exchange, with narrowed eyes. Her eyes, uptilted prettily, beheld Quinn's dishevelled state with superiority, a smirk playing on her full lips.
'Saf, stop scowling, you'll get wrinkles.' As soon as the girl, Saf, Quinn gathered, was admonished, she abetted her eyes from Quinn and turned to the tunnel before them. As she turned, a long gold tale snapped back and forth, protruding from her lower back. Quinn gawked.
'You're not the only special one here,' Quinn turned to see Jonah had muttered it, he winked and a grin blazoned across his handsome face.
'Jonah!' The other boy snapped, causing Jonah to shrug at Quinn before swiftly fixing the tile through which Quinn had joined them back in place.
'Now,' the boy said, conducting all attention to him. 'You-' he gestured at Quinn, all business now. 'How important a subject are you? How long before they check on you?'
Quinn's eyes darted between the the three of them nervously. 'Um, they tend to check regularly. There's always a guard posted on the outer entrance to my cell, and Doctor Stephens routinely calls in to check on how the latest treatment is going,' Quinn said the last with unavoidable bitterness.
Jonah patted her arm consolably.
'Saf?'
'Yeah,' Saf took the reins as the third boy handed them over to her. 'So we need to move fast and silently. I'll take the lead, Wings here can go behind me-' Quinn felt a tiny twinge of amusement at her spur-of-the-moment nickname, 'then Jonah and then finally, you, Cole.'
Cole. The name suited him perfectly, in Quinn's opinion. There was something dark about it, secretive - just like the boy himself - an element of unsolvable mystery. Quinn's thoughts were lurched back the present as she was prodded into place behind Saf.
The four moved steadily and noiselessly through the rafters, Quinn's breath growing shallower and shallower as she realised the depth of what was happening.
Seven minutes into the journey - or thereabouts - sirens began to course through the building, screeching and painful on the ears.
Ahead if her, Saf cursed, but continued moving, picking up the already speedy pace. The four were now crawling desperately, making more noise but intent on destination.
At odd moments, Quinn's wings scraped the metal rods over her head, making her whimper quietly as the tender flesh was teased.
Ahead, just visible beyond Saf's short choppy hair, Quinn could see a dead end. A sort of dumbwaiter-like doorway opened outwards, with a dark red cross painted over it.
Saf slowed a tad, and as a consequence, so did Quinn, Jonah and Cole.
Reaching the door, Saf knocked three times in equal succession and waited a beat.
For that one beat of silence, Quinn's heart seemed to stop beating, the blood rushed to her temples and her palms grew sweaty. Below her, the frantic yells of the whitecoats and the screams of the alarms mingled to create one humongous sound of panic.
Then, the tension drained slightly as the door opened silently and Saf disappeared into the space beyond.
Quinn craned her neck into the black space before copying Saf's movement. She could tell that the rafter floor was no longer there, but instead a vertical drop. Quinn balked.
'What are you doing? Hurry!' Cole's hiss floated up the tunnel towards Quinn's ears and she gulped.
She had made it this far. She had followed three absolute strangers.
She had defied the whitecoats, whose methods of punishment Quinn was certain would be horrific.
She could do this one thing.
Closing her eyes and wiping her mind clear, as if it were a slate, Quinn slid out of the rafter and felt herself fall, weightless.
Knowing her wings were too abused to snap out behind her and catch her, Quinn prepared for the worst.
The Winged Girl IV • Opuss № I