“Another Turning
Point”
Chapter One:
Homecoming
“Well, this certainly is a warm reception,” Wildwing conveyed as he walked into the terminal, a smirk upon his face.
“What did you expect?” Tanya responded with a tight embrace, holding onto Wildwing for a few seconds. “From what I heard, there was a good chance we wouldn’t see you again.”
“Are you kidding? This kid?” Duke smirked and hugged his elder nephew before patting him on the back. “He’s got L’Orange blood running through him. He’s survivor.”
Wildwing resituated his bag on his shoulder, then took off his Legion cap. His face was completely flushed. “I don’t know that, but I certainly do my best.”
“Welcome back, my friend,” Grin said as he clasped the former leader on the shoulder, “but where are your charismatic companions?”
“Excuse me?”
“Where’re Mallory and your brothers?” Tanya interpreted pertinently.
“OH!” Wildwing shifted his glare and thumbed over his shoulder. “There was only one seat left on this aircraft, so they let me take it. They’ll be in an another two hours.”
“Why have you returned from your journey early?” Grin inquired in a low rumble.
Wildwing stared disbelievingly at him. “Didn’t you guys hear? I thought the Legion informed the civilians.”
Duke snorted at being called a “civilian.” The Mighty Ducks would never be civilians again. “Hear what?”
A gleeful smile brightened Wildwing’s face, and he looked like a little boy bursting with a secret. “The war’s over!”
Silence.
“WHAT!” he received in union.
Nodding in amusement, Wildwing revealed, “The Saurians were actually defeated about three weeks ago and dumped back into Dimensional Limbo. The Legion’s just been helping to reset up communications in the area. People are already being discharged home. I might have to go back for a week or two just to help clean up the area, but I’m home!” He scanned over Duke’s head and looked about the bustling terminal excitingly. “Where’s Dive? I can’t wait to tell him!”
A look of apprehension enveloped Duke’s face, and he sought help from Tanya and Grin. However, neither of them met Wildwing’s inquiring eyes.
“What is it?” the older brother asked earnestly, grabbing Duke by the shoulder. He tugged in apprehension. “Is Dive okay? Where is he? What happened?”
“…We…don’t quite know,” Duke stammered in a faltering reply.
“What the hell do you mean, you don’t know?” The frantic mallard boarded on hysteria.
“I figured you wrote to him, too, to let him know you were coming,” Tanya said suddenly, “but when I called him, I got no answer.”
Wildwing’s face scrunched in contemplation. “Did you call back?”
“Seventy times.”
“Duke, didn’t you see him? You said you were keeping an eye on him,” Wildwing directed.
Duke sighed somberly and uttered helplessly, “A few of the former Brotherhood members were pretty ticked at me for going straight and were afraid I’d rat them out, so I’ve been off planet since Stars’ Hallow. I didn’t want them to go after the kid.”
“That was ten months ago!” Wildwing blared.
“But,” Duke amended, “I did go to his and Harper’s. The place’s shut up tight, and it’s been torn apart. I tried to call Harper at work, but haven’t been successful.”
A bitter, intensive stare burned from Wildwing’s eyes. “So, none of you have had any contact with Dive since Stars’ Hallow?”
“Yeah,” Tanya admitted lowly. “Sorry, Wildwing.”
Wildwing let out a deep, cleansing breath, bracing himself, then opened his bag.
*^*^*
“Hey, guys!” Mallory accosted in the form of a shrill. She dropped her bag off her shoulder and leapt into Duke’s arms, the older man hugging her tightly.
“Good to see you, sweetheart.” Duke nuzzled his beak in her hair. “Good to see you alive.”
She pulled back and affixed him a quizzical look. “Keeping clean, Outlaw?”
“Depends on your definition of clean.”
“Hey, I watched your back enough.” Canard’s voice carried down the gate’s exit. He grinned as he dropped her bag next to her feet. “I don’t need to be cleaning up after you now.”
“Welcome back, Canard,” Tanya greeted, embracing the younger mallard. “And this must be your brother Shane.”
“Nice to meet you...Tanya?” The tan mallard to Canard’s left, dressed in a captain’s uniform of the Puckworld Legion, assessed. His deep blue eyes seemed to propel her toward him.
“On the first try. I’m impressed.”
“Your good karma will be appreciated in this dire situation,” Grin claimed starkly.
“Well, what don’t we have to be in good spirits about?” Canard boasted. “We kicked those lizard bastards off our planet, and now we’re home to stay! I’d say that’s something to celebrate, don’t you?”
“I don’t think that’s what your friend means, little bro,” Shane said hollowly. He turned fiercely to Grin. “What dire situation?”
“What do you mean, you’ve never heard of General Flashblade? This is his office number!” Wildwing’s abrupt and infuriated voice shocked the crowd, a little ways away.
In front of the windows, Wildwing paced swiftly back and forth. To his ear, he held a cell phone, listening intently. Subsequently, he spouted, “I already told you. My name is Wildwing Bronzeplume. General Flashblade was my godfather and my brother’s adoptive father…But he was on the Executive Generals! I talked to him before I left for my tour of duty!...No, I wasn’t here six months ago. What happened six months ago?...Why can’t you tell me?...” With a vexed growl, Wildwing hit off the cell phone and moved to throw it out the window. He stopped in mid-pitch and collapsed to the seat, dropping his head into his hands.
Shane and Canard both looked at the team questioningly before running to their brother’s side. As if Wildwing had anticipated their presence, he raised his head. “They say Harper never existed. They say they don’t know a Nosedive Flashblade. There’s no number, no address for a Flashblade. Even Nosedive’s school said he was never enrolled.”
“So, then, where are they?” Canard asked.
Wildwing rolled his eyes. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“So, they just disappeared?” Shane questioned dubiously. “There has to be some evidence, something, of where they went.”
Wildwing perked up instantly. “Or someone!” He snapped his fingers at Shane. “What was that Tre kid’s last name?”
Canard furled an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Fowlen,” Shane insisted, smacking his brother on the shoulder. “Tremaine Fowlen, Dive’s best friend.”
“Fowlen,” Wildwing repeated, hope filling his words and heart. He quickly dialed 411 on his phone. He waited, then spurted, “Hi. I’m looking for a Fowlen in Caps. DuCaine.” Standing, he once more commenced pacing. After three seconds, he spoke again, “Hi, Tre?...Hey, it’s Wildwing Bronzeplume, Dive’s brother. Look, I was looking for my brother, and I can’t…” He listened attentively, stalking in a forceful, straight tread. Suddenly, in mid-stride, his tense face blanched, and he staggered. He would have collapsed if not for the grace of his older brother, who grabbed him before he hit the floor.
Leaning heavily on Shane, an arm about the older drake’s neck, Wildwing regained his footing and rested his shoulder against the windows. “When?” He asked emphatically. “How?”
“What happened?” Canard asked worriedly, coming up next to Shane.
Wildwing waved his hand and continued to listen to Tremaine. Suddenly, he surged, “Where’s Dive? What did they do with him? Is he okay?”
After a few brief moments of “Yeah,” “Gotcha,” “All right,” Wildwing sighed deeply, his eyes vacant and unseeing. “Thanks, Tremaine.” He shut the phone with a snap and didn’t speak. Beak agape, a slow-head shake, Wildwing was shocked beyond words.
“Is the kid okay?” Canard asked urgently.
Wildwing raised his head and muttered numbly, “Harper’s dead.”
A shocked silence overcame the brothers.
“How?” Canard finally gasped brokenly after a few collecting moments.
“He was murdered in his own home six months ago…four months after we left.” He shook his head again, horrid realization flooding his body. A heavy knot contorted his stomach, a ravaging inclination of his brother’s plight. “Nosedive found him.”
“Oh, Stars,” Shane commented, sickened.
“He’s been alone for six months,” Wildwing continued gravely, as if he stated it enough, it wouldn’t be true. “He’s had to deal with this by himself.”
His brother needed him, and he didn’t know it.
Again.
“Where is Dive?” Shane asked suddenly.
“I have to get him,” Wildwing said irrefutably. “I can’t leave him there.”
Something was thrust into his hands, and Wildwing looked down at the pair of keys and the parking lot ticket. Once he surmised what they were, his eyes snapped upward to gaze at Duke.
“Take my ice rover,” the older man stated forcefully. “Go!”
Wildwing nodded his thanks, not trusting his voice, and stumbled down the corridor toward the parking lot.
*^*^*
A bunny. A snow bunny flopping in the snow, without a doubt.
Nosedive cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.
Well, at this angle, it actually looked more like horse…or maybe a platypus…with the hair of Phil.
Nosedive suppressed a laugh and continued to stare out the window at the cumulus nimbuses that blew across the azure Puckworld sky. A few seemed to flow like leaves traveling the path of a river, while others were tugged from their positions and dragged across the sky.
One cloud caught his eyes in particular. It was long and oblong, like the nozzle of launcher. It ruffled in the clouds, making it look like they were streaks across the launcher’s end—like blood. Like the blood on the nozzle of the launcher, laying on the tiles of the kitchen, about five feet from his father’s body.
His dead father’s body.
No. Stop.
“Sir, Cadet Flashblade is doing it again!” Sever cried.
Nosedive closed his eyes and winced, trying to hold back the tears that rose in his eyes.
Just stop it.
“Cadet Flashblade?”
The macabre image remained terrifyingly clear in his mind.
STOP IT!
*BANG!*
“Cadet Flashblade? Would
you care to join the class?”
Nosedive’s eyes shot open, and they ricocheted to the being at the front of the classroom, a stringent man dressed in a teal blazer and gray pants. The professor leaned over his desk, his hands clutching the sides, as he stared with a conniving smirk on his face.
“Cadet Flashblade, I realize that you have not adhered to the principles of this establishment in the very least, but I would appreciate it if you confined your insanity to your head and yours alone. Thank you.”
The next desk over, the black-feathered cadet Sever leered, sitting back in his seat with his hands behind his head.
As the professor turned around to write on the board once more, Nosedive offhanded, “You first…sir.”
The professor paused for a moment, then turned on his heel. He narrowed his eyes toward the nineteen-year-old and opened his beak—
“Sir,” a newly arrived cadet entered the door to the classroom. He handed a slip of paper to the professor. “The headmaster requests Cadet Flashblade.”
Smirking, Nosedive rose from his seat, tugged on his hat, and pulled his backpack over his shoulder. Snatching the hall pass from his professor, he mock-saluted and left the room.
As he ambled aimlessly down the hallway, he let his pack slide off his shoulder and twirl about his wrist at knee height. He turned a corner and continued at a sluggish pace. There was no hurry. He could guess the headmaster wanted to talk to him about his poor performance at the academy or how he was disruptive in his classes. Or! Or! Stars’ forbid, how his father would be disappointed in the way he behaved, nodding off, not paying attention, getting poor grades…The list was long. He might as well take his time.
Finally, after wandering for ten minutes, his hand clasped around the door knob of the headmaster’s office and turned it to the right. Entering, he noticed the sitting area, two seats to his left and two seats to the right with a coffee table in between them, followed by the high desk at the end of the room where the secretary sat. Beyond that was THE Door. Behind The Door, cadets were abused verbally, expelled, or in his case, tried to be motivated. The headmaster of the Commissioner’s Academy still had yet to do that, but hey, today could just be the day.
Nosedive navigated about the chairs and slapped his pass on the counter. The woman sitting there took it, and he sat in his normal seat—the first chair to the right. Leaning backwards, he propped his feet up on the table and rested his head back on the chair’s headrest. No reason why he couldn’t catch a few z’s before his meeting. Then maybe he would be able to stay awake the whole time.
He was on the verge of sleep when the door to the headmaster’s office, and a roar of laughter tore him from slumber land. His eyes fluttered opened. His breath stopped. His whole body stiffened, and tears almost streamed down his cheeks.
That couldn’t be…
His wide eyes pored over the white mallard walking out of the office, Headmaster Gaverson on his heel. He wore the formal attire of a Legion captain: gray pants with maroon and teal strips up the sides, a teal jacket with gold buttons from the neck to the bottom of the coat, and a maroon undershirt visible at the collar.
The headmaster laughed, then slapped the white mallard on his shoulder warmly. Wildwing turned to Gaverson, twiddling his gold hat in his hands.
His brother was alive. His brother was safe and here and—Stars bless—alive!
His prayers were finally answered!
“I can’t believe you remember that, sir,” Wildwing addressed the headmaster with nonchalance. “That was…what? Ten years ago?”
“You were a freshman, weren’t you? And one of the best cadets to come through this place, if I may say so,” Gaverson recalled.
“Thank you, but now if you don’t mind, Headmaster,” Wildwing spoke formally, his voice turning serious, “maybe I could steal my brother for a few weeks. I don’t think he’ll want to return, but even if he does, I think sometime away from here will do him good.”
The smoky mallard nodded emphatically. “Of course, Captain Bronzeplume. I completely understand. By the way, I heard about the situation in the uncivilized zones. If you are in need of a job, give me a call, and we’ll set up an appointment. I think we can find a place for you among the faculty.”
Wildwing smiled in surprise elation, and he shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, sir. Uh, yes. Definitely. I’ll do that.”
“Good.”
As the headmaster returned to his office, Wildwing shook his head, then turned on his heel. His gaze focused instantly upon Nosedive; the natural affectionate smile he always wore when looking at his brother appeared on his beak immediately. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Wildwing?” Nosedive whispered, unhinged. He pulled his legs from the table and stood slowly.
“Can’t believe I’m back already, huh?” Wildwing smirked and leaned against the counter. He addressed the secretary, thumbing toward Nosedive. “I’m taking him out of here. Do I need to sign something?”
The secretary smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes, and placed a clipboard on the counter. Without even reading the paper, Wildwing signed hastily three times where the secretary deemed necessary.
When he handed the board and pen back, Nosedive still was gaping in shock as Wildwing grabbed his book bag on the floor, then draped a hand over his shoulders. “Come on, little bro. Let’s get out of here.”
A anxious tingling swept through Nosedive’s body, rendering him completely numb. He had wished and prayed and hoped for this moment, and now that his brother finally arrived, he found himself utterly bewildered. Allowing himself to be guided out the door, Nosedive watched aloofly as Wildwing shut the door and turned to him, clutching his shoulders warmly.
“Dive?” Wildwing asked tentatively.
A tiny grin tugged on the edge of Nosedive’s beak. “You came.”
Wildwing leaned forward, ducking slightly to see beyond the teal hat pushing down Nosedive’s bangs. “Kiddo, are you okay?”
Dazed, Nosedive nodded, suddenly focusing troubled at the floor.
Wildwing gave his brother a demonstrative squeeze, then dipped the teen’s beak up with his finger. He looked unwavering into his brother’s eyes. “Are you?”
Nosedive’s eyes trembled and ducked his head again. He simply shook his head, the hampered emotions from the last six months finally allowed an outlet. He abruptly dove into his brother’s arms and sought solace from the phantasm of reality.
Catching his brother, Wildwing grunted at the force at which Nosedive clung to him. Obligingly, he clamped his arms about his brother and held the teen to him tightly. Grasping the side of Wildwing’s shirt for the strength and support that had been unspeakably absent the last how many months, Nosedive buried his face in his brother’s chest. The brim of his hat connected with his brother’s muscles and was pushed off. Wildwing gasped at the sight of Nosedive’s SHORT hair, a byproduct of his stay at the academy.
Wildwing closed his eyes, simply absorbing the teen’s erupting emotions as Nosedive’s lamenting tore at his heart.
*^*^*
“I can’t believe we got all this mail,” Shane stated as he to sweep the envelopes away from the front door. A mound of letters, at least two hundred, littered the space between the door and the staircase. Now dressed in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, the older brother poked his little brother crouching on the floor. “What are you doing?”
Canard picked up a letter, examined it, then dropped it to the floor. He repeated the action with another letter. “They’re all from Dive.”
“You’re kidding,” Shane dismissed, grabbing a garbage bag and bending down. He snatched a bunch of letters. As he went to stick them in the bag, his eyes were snagged by the return addresses. Each was from Nosedive.
“Stars…”
Canard ripped one open and unfolded the paper, only for Shane to cover his hand swiftly.
“You can’t read that! It’s addressed to Wildwing.”
“So? He won’t mind,” Canard objected.
“But what if there is something in there that Dive doesn’t want us to know?”
Canard laughed. “Oh, come on. Wing would then tell us.”
Shane contemplated this for a moment. Subsequently, he shrugged and went back to picking up the letters. “You got a point there.”
As Shane finished stuffing the envelopes in the bag, he watched as Canard’s eyes silently glanced back and forth. His face was grim. His eyes were hard.
“Canard, what is it?”
Canard put up a finger and slowly headed back into the living room, still reading. Growling, Shane tossed the garbage bag in the corner and followed after him.
“Canard! What’s in there?”
Sitting on the armrest of the couch, already dressed in a simple jeans and sweater, Mallory cocked her head to the side. “What are you guys doing?”
Canard sunk into the recliner perpendicular to the couch and read in torpidity, “Dear Wildwing, Day 102 at Dante’s Academy. I don’t know if you got my other 112 letters, including the ten I wrote before they placed me here. If you didn’t, a little summary for you: Dad’s dead. The lawyer my dad had prior to the Invasion still had his will, and custody of me was left to you. Apparently, Dad knew where you were, and since he didn’t have any living relatives, he thought you’d be best suited to raise me if he died. Would have been nice he told me, but anyway, long story short, I’m at Commissioner’s Academy until further notice. Dad’s colleagues didn’t want to contact you, and instead, they just erased records and stuff just in case Dad’s killer might be after me. So, you won’t be able to find anything when you get back. If you don’t get this letter, which you probably won’t because word is, no mail hitting you, you won’t be able to find me once you get home. So, I hope you get this.
“If you do get this letter, I’d really appreciate it if you could come and get me out. I hate it! HATE IT! And everyone keeps telling me how my dad would be so proud I was here. He wouldn’t be, you know? He would want me to be who I am, not who they want me to be. I keep telling them that, but they won’t listen. They won’t listen to anything. I got so frustrated that I jumped the fence yesterday, barbed wire and all. I got scratched up a little, but nothing too bad. The real pain came when I fell ten feet because the guard was coming, but I sucked it up. I made it to the middle of the Metro, but I missed my advisor’s meeting. I guess Icebeak called the cops. They found me on the way to Tre’s house.
“Stars, Wing, where are you? I know that you have other priorities, and I don’t want to pull you away, but—this is just torture, big bro. Everything is so screwed up. I don’t know what to do.”
Canard’s voice faltered as his throat suddenly constricted. He paused for a moment as the page in his hand shook. “I just—and Dad’s dead, Wing. He’s dead. How could that happen? How? Dad was a great fighter. He was in the Legion! He was a general! How? Why? Why would someone want to kill him? It makes no sense, but nothing does. Everything, I just want it all to go away. I thought everything would be okay. I thought now that we were back, and Dragaunus’s dead, and…I guess I was living a fairy tale or something. But if I was, is this all there is to live? I’m tired of losing people, Wing. I tired of getting close to people and having them torn from me. I sick of it. I’m just sick of it all. Why? Why did he have to die? Why did Mira have to die in the invasion? Why did Shane have to go to war? Why did you and Canard have to go? Why, Wing! Why!
“I guess I don’t get any answers. I know what you’d say anyway. This is life. Well, why does my life have to suck so bad? Why can’t everything and everyone just leave me alone?
“In any case, I have to go. I have another test to fail. I just don’t care. If I’m lucky, Headmaster Gaverson might give me another ‘You are a disgrace to your father’ speech. That’s my favorite. The session usual ends with him telling to ‘Fuck off.’ Needless to say, he hasn’t give me that one in three weeks, but it’s got to be coming soon.
“Well, I hope you’re still alive. It would suck if I’ve been writing all this time, and you’re dead. It was also just suck mondo-ly because you’re dead. First Mira, then Dad, now you.
“Okay, I don’t want to think about that.
“Tell Canard he still owes me three hundred smackers.
“Tell Shane I scored a hat trick against Quackenbush, my sixth.
“Tell Mallory she can take me shopping for new clothes again. I only have my uniform and, like, three sets of regular clothes. All the rest are at my house.
“Thanks.
“Love,
Dive”
After Canard was done reading, a somber silence engulfed the group.
Shane fell to the arm of the recliner and shook his head. “I’ll kill them. I’ll find them and kill them.”
Canard nudged him. “Come on. You can’t do that.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do, Canard. They had no right not to inform Wildwing. He could have gotten a hardship or dependency discharge.”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Tanya interjected, sitting next to Mallory. “We have to be there for him, you know? He’s been probably been traumatized by this.”
“What would give you that idea?” Duke stood, unable to sit any longer, and walked behind Grin mediating on the floor.
“Duke,” Mallory chastised, “you can’t be like this when Dive gets here.”
He swiveled to her, an unforgiving look upon his face. “I can’t be like this? I knew Harper longing then the kid! He was my friend—”
“Yeah, but he was Dive’s father,” Tanya admonished.
Duke blinked when an abrupt click from the front door sounded, captivating the group’s attention.
“Hey, guys. We’re home!”
“We’re in the living room!” Canard shouted.
Wildwing walked in, a reserved smile upon his beak. “Guess who I found?”
Duke raised an eyebrow. “Houdini?”
“Huh?” Wildwing whirled around, seeing the empty space behind him. “Dive?”
“Who’s in there?” His little brother responded flatly, out of sight.
Peering at the couch, chair, Grin and Duke, Wildwing shrugged. “Everyone.”
“Then I’m not coming in.”
Wildwing sighed, slightly agitated. “May I ask why?”
“Because of what I’m wearing!” was the seethed reply.
Confused, Wildwing walked back, then suppressed a laugh. “Oh, come on, Dive. It’s not that bad.”
“Not bad! Do you see this? They’re all going to laugh! Not to mention that I practically flunked out of the place!”
“You wouldn’t have flunked if you didn’t want to,” Wildwing returned, grabbing something out of the ducks’ vision. Tugging Nosedive’s wrist into view, he coaxed, “Come on, Dive!”
“NO!”
“We know you were in the Commissioner’s Academy, kid,” Duke said gently, at which time Nosedive’s resistance crumpled, and he was propelled into sight.
Adorning a teal top with short sleeves and his last name on his left breast, Nosedive stood in the hallway, but in sight of the group. His dark navy cargo pants puffed out from his waist, then were tucked into his black boots. His hair was hidden under his teal cap, though it was obvious it had been cut short. The only hair that seemed to be the same length was his bangs, which curled inward toward his face under his hat. Behind his back was his duffle bag, which was in Legion camouflage.
Warily, the teen waved. “Hiya guys. Long time no see.”
Pushing off the couch, Mallory drew him into a hug. “We heard. How are you?”
He shrugged awkwardly in her embrace, then was dragged into the living room, leaving his duffle behind him. “Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Still screwed.” Sitting down in the chair Canard had occupied, Nosedive squirmed sheepishly at the sympathetic, almost pathetic expressions on his former teammates’ faces. He rolled his eyes. “How much do you know?”
Grin, sitting on the floor, said evenly, “Your pain transcended the written word.”
“ ‘Written word?’ ” Nosedive echoed, then gasped. He stared pointedly at Canard. “You opened one of my letters, didn’t you?”
“Letters?” Wildwing asked, but was ignored when Canard laughed guiltily.
“When they weren’t delivered to the uncivilized zones, they were forwarded here, and Shane thought it was a good idea to see what had happened.”
“Liar!” Shane accused. “You wanted to know!”
“But you let me read it.”
“I knew that was going to come back and bite me.”
Nosedive buried his head in his hands. “I hate my life. I just hate my life. This is so embarrassing.”
“More so than that Stigma thing?” Mallory questioned briskly.
Eyes snapping to life, the teen glowered at her. “Thanks so much for bringing that up.”
Wildwing sat on the edge of the armchair, laying a hand on Nosedive’s shoulder. He pulled the teen closer to him. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, little bro. We all care about you, and we all go through tough times in our lives.”
“Then why is it that most people don’t seem to have as many tough times as I do?”
Wildwing gagged, then ruffled his brother’s head. “Well, you got me there.”
Walking about the couch, Duke asked, “Kid…what happened? Harper…”
Nosedive sighed and leaned back in the chair, mostly just to be closer to his brother. He felt more secure when he was actually touching Wildwing. Reiterating through a stiff beak, Nosedive supplied, “Dad had been going off on business trips for a few weeks at a time. It was pretty regular. Three weeks here, one there. He allowed me to stay by myself most of the time, but one week he came home and said he would be gone for two weeks, here for two, and gone for two again.” He averted, staring at the fireplace in the middle of the room. He crossed his arms and swallowed down the knot that had obtrusively formed in his throat. “He normally told me what he was working on, even if it was top secret. I was sworn to secrecy and all that, and he said to me a lot that I would go to prison if I told some anyone, but I knew he’s…” He paused suddenly at his slip, twirling his glimmering white necklace in his hands, and amended harshly, “…was…w—was kidding, but…this time he didn’t tell me. I asked, but he said it was too dangerous for me to know. ‘What you don’t know can’t get you killed’ and all that. So, since he was gonna be gone longer, he asked me if I would stay with Tre for at least one of the two weeks. After about a month of that, he called me and said he would be returning on the fourteenth, and I would need to meet him at home all dressed for one of his dignitary functions. I didn’t even complain this time. I was just so happy he was going to be home, but…” He shook his head. “I can’t believe it…I forgot.”
Nosedive took the cola can in one
hand and the bottle of grenadine in the other. Placing the bottle of coke to
his beak, he filled it, then added just a touch of grenadine. Shaking them in
his closed beak, he finally swallowed the make-shift red dinosaur.
“Ahh…” He let out as he handed the
containers to his best friend.
Sitting on the stage of The Wild
Hatchling, Nosedive looked out over the masses of teenagers dancing to the
pre-recorded music. Most of them were the regulars, though some had actually
attended just to hear them, the band. In only a matter of minutes, they were
bopping and shaking to the noise of Suspended for Diving.
To
his left, Kalore hit a note on her keyboard, though without the amplifier
hooked up, it wasn’t even heard over the blaring music. “Don’t we need to
discuss our play list for tonight, or should we just wing it?”
“It’s
the fourteenth, right?” Slapshot scoffed, sitting at her drum set. “The Trials
are in two weeks. Why don’t we start with our ‘Have a Nice Day’ medley?”
Nosedive
scrunched his face in intense contemplation. “Fourteenth… fourteenth…” He
drummed his base guitar absently. While it wasn’t his instrument of choice, his
band had lost both their secondary electric guitarist and base guitarist.
Accordingly, Nosedive needed to take one of their spots. “I think I had to do
something today.”
“Like
play with your band?” Tremaine asked facetiously, finishing off the cola.
Glancing
down at his watch, Nosedive looked at the time. Seven o’clock. Didn’t his
father say something about seven… “SHIT!” He leapt to his feet and tore off his
guitar. “I’ve got to get home!”
A
gripping hand caught his arm. “What are you talking about?” Kalore cried.
“We’ve got a gig in five minutes!”
“You
don’t understand,” Nosedive said and twisted from her grasp. “My dad has a
dignitary function tonight! He told me to be home by six! He’s gonna kill me,
resuscitate me, then kill me again before sticking me in a tux and dragging me
to that dinner!”
“Can’t
he go by himself?” Slapshot rejected, twirling her drumsticks in her hands.
“Why do you have to go?”
“It
doesn’t matter why! I just do!” He once more pleaded to his watch for it not to
be right. “Stars, I’m an hour late! He’s gonna to kill me!”
As
if on cue, a vibration reverberated from his jeans’ pocket. Reaching into it,
he extracted his cell phone. On the screen flashed ominously, “Daddy-O.” He
immediately flicked it open and placed it to his ear.
“Dad,
Stars! I am so, so, so, so, so, so
sorry! I promise I am leaving now, and I will be there and dressed—”
“Nosedive,
calm down,” his father’s unusually serene voice sounded over the phone. “It’s
okay.”
That
wasn’t right. His father told him specifically not to go out with his friends.
Dad Flashblade should have been peeved as Hell and had full right to be.
“Dad?
What’s wrong?”
There
was a pause, then a grunt. “Nosedive, listen to me.”
“Already
doing that.”
A
brief, tense laugh was followed by a somber sigh. “I love you, son. I want you
to know that, alright? No matter what, I will always love you.”
Nosedive
turned his back to friends and stuck a finger in his free ear to hear better.
Anxiety ravaged in his gut. Something was wrong, horribly, frighteningly wrong,
and the fact that was a good ten minutes from home only sharpened the edge of
his doomed feeling. “Dad? I don’t under—”
“This
isn’t your fault, okay? Know that.”
What
wasn’t his fault? “But I was late. I should have been there at—”
“That
doesn’t matter. What matters is that whatever you do, you can’t give the old
turdus it.” A serious edge infiltrated his father’s voice. “You cannot give it
up. If you did, it would destroy all that we have reclaimed. You can’t do that.
Do you hear me? You cannot give it
up.”
“What’s
it? Who’s turdus?” Nosedive inquired
urgently. “Dad, what’s going on!”
Tears
entered his father’s shaky voice. “Nosedive…I’m sorry I did this to you. I
didn’t think this would ever happen—”
“What’s
happened? I don’t—”
“I
should never have put you in this position—”
“Position?
What position! Dad, talk to me!”
“
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, son. One
day, I hope you understand and forgive me…”
“DAD! Please! Tell me—”
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
Nosedive
slowly let the phone fall from his ear as the receiver went dead. He breathed
deeply, staring idly. His legs suddenly felt weak, but he felt nothing else.
Everything was numb. Glaring straight, he snapped his gaze toward the cell
phone. His father…someone shot his father…
“Dive,
what’s wrong?” Tremaine asked worriedly, his face hovering in the background of
Nosedive’s vision.
The
teen didn’t turn to his friend. It hardly heard the question. Suddenly, it felt
like something was crawling all over his skin. The air about him stagnated. He
couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. It was as if the world and everything in it
stopped.
Subsequently,
as quickly as it stopped, it restarted. Engulfing him. Entrenching him.
Suffocating him.
He
had to get out!
He
had to breathe!
And
on instinct, he ran.
“DIVE!” Tremaine called behind him,
but Nosedive didn’t turn. He weaved through the teenagers on the dance floor,
the darkness and neon lights flickering across his eyes. He pushed dancing
teenagers who refused to get out of his way, not even hearing the insults that
followed.
He stumbled out to his motorcycle
and fumbled with his helmet until it was fastened. Hitting the accelerator, he
zoomed out of the parking lot and onto the freeway faster than legally allowed.
In a trance, he avoided other vehicles on the roadway and zipped down his exit,
not caring to brake.
The ten-minute trip took less than
four. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, while his stomach bottomed out
when he turned onto his road. Screeching the wheels into his driveway, he
didn’t bring his motorcycle to a stop. Instead, he skidded it across the
asphalt and staggered over the slow-moving vehicle. Dashing in the back door,
he shrilled, “ DAD!” but it was in
vain.
The smell was overbearing,
sickening, and it overwhelmed him, even at the door. His tremulous eyes pored
over the blood that trickled down the tiles of the kitchen, a tributary to the
pool of blood that led to the motionless body…
Secreting from the cracks of the
body’s beak was more of the crimson life-force. His chest was torn and ripped
to shreds, impressions of pucks carved in the grooves of the cavity. Blood
flooded the area, seeping from the wounds and down the drake’s chest,
saturating his clothes and the floor.
Lifeless, clouded eyes stared back through the teen, unfocused, void of
any light.
“No…oh Stars, no…nononononono…”
Nosedive gasped, rushing to the man’s side and dropping to his knees, the force
slashing blood onto his jeans and shirt. Shaky hands hovered just above his
father’s chest, and he quickly took of his jacket and stuffed it in the wounds.
“Dad, please…” Nosedive pleaded as
he tired to wipe the blood—to get it off his father!—but to no avail.
Stars…there was so much…
Okay, get the heart started…Have to
get him breathing…
If he could do that, everything
would be okay.
That thought was enough to shock him
to action, and knotting his hands together, he pressed the heel of his palm
into the chest cavity.
“One…two…three…ten…fifteen…”
With every compression, more blood
oozed from his father’s wounds and beak.
“…twenty-five…thirty…”
*Breath!*
*Breath!*
Again.
“One…two…three…”
His vision blurred, and he could
hardly make out his father’s body as tears gushed from his eyes, coursing his
cheeks. His hands shook fiercely as the devastation of the situation hit him
full force.
“Please…” He begged desperately,
stopping counting. He just kept pressing, pressing, pressing…He couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t give up…
“Please…don’t leave me, Dad…you
can’t. Please…”
*Slam!*
The back door…
“Oh Stars! Dive!”
Nosedive didn’t stop his pressing.
“Please, Dad…just come back…please…”
“Slapshot! Call the cops!” A firm
directive from a female—Kalore.
A pair of strong arms seized him
from behind, cradling his chest. Then another took hold, this time about his
waist. With an objective force, they yanked him from his father’s side.
“No!”
Nosedive thrashed, but his tearful eyes never left his father’s body. “Please!
I can save him! Don’t!”
He
was dragged outside, the cold air shocking him. Thrown onto the lawn, he
flinched as snow brushed against his face and coated his clothes, but he didn’t
stop moving. Nosedive leapt to his feet
and ran toward the house, only for Tremaine to check him by the waist and force
him back to the ground. His best friend lay sprawled across him, pinning him
against the snow.
“You
can’t go back in there!” Tremaine screamed, then softened as his friend
struggled against his hold.
“NO!
I can save him!” He shook violently, shivers wracking his body. He clawed
desperately at his friend’s hold, thrusting and pushing up, but he couldn’t
unhitch Tremaine’s body pressing him
against the ground.
“I’m
sorry, Dive, but you can’t go back in there.” Tremaine ducked his head and
resigned hollowly, “He’s gone.”
“NO! I can—”
“You
can’t!”
“But—”
Tremaine
sniffled back his own sobs as he spurted truthfully, “He’s gone…He’s gone.”
Nosedive
suddenly stopped struggling, as if realizing the futility of it. Laying
breathless against the ground, panting, he looked up at the night sky, the
stars shining brightly.
They
were beautiful, more so than he ever noticed before.
A
hand grabbed his wrist and tugged him into a sitting position. Meeting
Tremaine’s gaze, his best friend shaken and forlorn, Nosedive closed his eyes.
The harsh realization clutched him, and he felt two pairs of arms hold him
tightly.
Resoundingly,
Slapshot’s whisper cut through the night air, “
And
he cried.
“I couldn’t save him,” Nosedive whispered, his head ducked, his hat’s brim casting a shadow across his face. Still, streams of tears trickled in the dim light. “If I would have remembered, then maybe I could have—”
“No, Nosedive,” Wildwing soothed, kneeling down in front his brother and cupping the teen’s hands in his. “That was not your fault. If you would have been there, you would have been killed, too.”
Nosedive looked away, his eyes tormented. “I still see it, Wing. Every time I close my eyes, I see him like that. I hear the gunshots. I—I can’t get them out of my head.”
Wildwing leaned forward and beckoned his brother against his chest. One hand curled about his brother’s head, cradling it against his shirt, while the other wrapped around the teen’s back securely. “It’ll be okay, Dive. I promise.”
“There’s no way to make this okay, Wildwing. Dad’s d—dead...” He froze as a violent shivered worked its way through his body. “He’s dead…and I couldn’t save him.”
Wildwing shushed him. “I know…” He repeated over and over. “I know…”
After what seemed like an eternally, Nosedive pulled away from his embrace, sniffling and tear-strained. As he wiped the tears from his eyes, an effervescent laughter spurted from his a beak, not particularly happy, but more rather sad and relenting.
Wildwing sent the boy a lopsided smile and moved to take off his hat and brush back his bangs when Nosedive caught his hand. He would have said something, if he didn’t remember how short Nosedive’s hair had been cut.
“Feel better?”
Nosedive nodded slightly. “Yeah. I needed that. I…I—I haven’t told anyone since the police report.”
“I figured that.”
“Dive,” addressed Mallory suddenly, “what was it? What was the killer after?”
Nosedive recoiled slightly, leaning backward rigidly in the chair. “I don’t know. The cops thought he got whatever he wanted because all the draws were pulled out, and the place was just a wreck.”
“So, they didn’t find the killer?” Tanya asked incredulously.
“No,” the teen replied hollowly, “they didn’t.”
Wildwing shifted back onto the coffee table. “Why didn’t you ever contact me, baby bro? I would have gotten a discharge.”
“I couldn’t,” Nosedive said truthfully. “I tried to, but Dad’s colleagues and the Prime Leader decided not to contact you. They thought the leader of Resistance being in the war would be great for the morale of our people and would motivate them to reconstruct faster. So, they threw me that prison.”
“Wasn’t there anyone you could have lived with?” Duke inquired. “Why didn’t call any of us? If we would have known—”
“Yeah,” Tanya interjected, her voice low and slightly hurt, “we could’ve—”
Nosedive shook his head. “You don’t understand. The Legion didn’t want me living with anyone. If Mira—Dad’s fiancée—was still alive, I guess they would have allowed me to stay with her, but she died during the invasion. Tre’s parents said they would take me in, but the Prime Leader was afraid the killer might be after me. She figured the academy would be safe rather than me living outside of a guarded campus.” His voice was full of helplessness. He glowered wearily at Wildwing. “And I don’t want you to get a discharge. You’re still needed with Shane and Canard in the uncivilized zones. I just want out of that place. I wrote you that in a few of my letters.”
“What letters?” Wildwing blinked in surprise. “I never got any letters.”
“These.” Shane hightailed it into the hallway and returned with the bursting garbage bag. “With the lack of personal mail coming in and out, the Legion must have forwarded them here.”
“See?” Nosedive incensed. “I was up to 186 today, so you should get another one tomorrow.”
Wildwing noticed the mood swing. Nosedive was always a bundle of sharp emotions, but now, it was an instantaneous flux. “Nosedive, first of all, if you need me, I’ll be here, okay? I would have been if I would have known.”
“I know, but I don’t want Shane or Canard’s death to be on my head,” the teen replied. “I just…want out.”
“You know what I don’t get,” Mallory said starkly. “Why didn’t it make the papers or the media? Your dad was a powerful man.”
Nosedive growled. “They were all afraid the killer might still be after me, so if the ups and ups thought it would be best to keep everything hush-hush.”
“Tell you what, kiddo,” Wildwing proclaimed as he got up from the coffeetable. “Why don’t you go get changed into normal clothes, and we’ll go out to eat. Tacos or something.”
“Tacos?” Nosedive shot to his feet. “Are you serious?”
“Only if you’re this happy for the rest of the night.”
Nosedive saluted stringently and dashed from the room, grabbing his duffle bag on the way out. A moment later, he quickly reappeared in the doorway, and Wildwing immediately pointed to the left. “Bathroom’s that way.”
*^*^*
Canard followed his nostrils out of shower and changed in warp speed. Coming out of the upstairs bathroom, he turned to the left and ambled down the stairs. Entering the kitchen, he froze at the amount of food on the stove and littering the counter. Waffles, pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage…
“What’s the occasion?”
Wildwing, in amidst the plethora of food, turned around. “I wasn’t sure what mood Dive would be in, and I wanted to make him what he wanted.”
Canard shook his head with a modest smile. “You are insane, but I love you, brother.”
A smirk formed on Wildwing’ face. “Take what you want, Canard.”
Half-way through his second helping of waffles, Canard heard an innocent yawn sound from the doorway. He peered over his shoulder to see Nosedive swallow back the remainder of his yawn. The teen’s eyes widened in shock when he realized the amount of food on the counter.
“What’s…going on here?”
“Wildwing’s insane,” Canard spat and patted the stool next to him.
After staggering across the titles with his bare feet, in Wildwing’s Earth jersey, a pair of sweatpants, and of course, a Mighty Ducks’ hat, Nosedive leapt onto the stool. “What’s all this for?”
Wildwing slid an omelet onto a plate, then pushed it in front of Nosedive. “I didn’t know what you’d want for breakfast.”
“Oh,” the teen said suddenly, taken back. “Okay…” Taking the red bottle, he squirted some ketchup onto his plate.
“What’s the matter, kid?” Canard asked, nudging the teen with his elbow for a reply.
Nosedive shrugged. “You’re going back sooner than expected, huh? I mean, that’s what this is about, right?”
Wildwing exchanged a bewildered expression with Canard. “Go where?”
“To the uncivilized zones. This is just to get me softened up for the big blow.”
“What!” Wildwing instantly ruffled up his brother’s head, knowing Nosedive felt better with his touch. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Nosedive’s wary eyes suddenly became guarded. “Tell me what?”
“The war’s over, baby bro. I might have to go back for a few weeks to help clean up the areas, but then at least Canard or Shane will be here.” He leaned his elbow on the counter and stared into his little brother’s eyes unflinchingly. “I’m home to stay.”
A gleeful smile, making Nosedive seem like a hatchling on Stars’ Hallow, brightened the teen’s now-usual grim expression. “Really? Are you serious! You’re not just putting me on, right?”
“No, I’m not putting you on,” Wildwing mimicked Nosedive’s voice almost perfectly.
The teen sent his brother a quasi-annoyed look, then stabbed his omelet with a fork and shoved a huge chunk into his beak—an unspoken threat.
Wildwing chuckled and wiped up the corner. “So, that means once I get custody, I can transfer you to a public secondary school if you’d like.”
“Awesome!” The mixture of relief and excitement in his voice was just too amusing. “This just keeps getting better and better.”
“Well, there’s more. Shane’s agreed to move in our parents’ room, which means that you get Shane’s. So, that’ll get you off the couch.”
“Where is Shane, anyway?” Nosedive mumbled through a beak-ful of food.
Canard suppressed a laugh.
Wildwing glowered at his twin brother, then redirected his gaze toward Nosedive. Hemming and hawing, he finally said, “Shane left earlier for the northern part of the province. He…has a friend there.”
“Girlfriend?”
Ducking his head, Canard turned away, his shoulders shaking.
Wildwing shook his head at his brother, but answered simply, “Something like that.”
“Ah, bootie call.”
A dark grimace contorted Wildwing’s face, and he threw his towel into the sink. “Where did you hear that expression?”
Nosedive rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’m a teenager. Where haven’t I heard that expression?”
Wildwing stared down at his little brother, who had already finished his omelet and had moved onto pancakes—six of them. “So, anyway, if you’re going to move in here, we’re going to have to get your stuff and clothes from your house and maybe clean that out.”
Nosedive dropped his fork to his plate with a resounding clank. Reticently, he raised his head. “Do we have to? I mean, I know we have to, but…”
“You’re not ready?” Canard asked, coming back into the conversion.
Diffidently, Nosedive nodded. “I…will be…just not yet.”
Wildwing nodded understandingly. He had expected it and answered his brother by extracting a card from her pocket. With a squeeze of Nosedive’s forearm, he slipped the card into the teen’s hand. “Okay, then, why don’t you take this and go shopping with Tremaine or your girlfriend or something.”
Nosedive took the card and looked at the money indicator on the side, a small digital screen. Astonished, his shocked glare snapped up to Wildwing. “There’re five hundred credits here!”
“I know.”
“But…there’re five hundred credits!”
Canard put out his hand. “Do I get five hundred credits, too?”
Wildwing just ignored him. “Well, you’re going to need clothes to wear and stuff for your room.”
Nosedive stared at the money, then relented with a forlorn sigh, “Well, there is something I need from the house. My motorcycle. It’s locked in the garage, and I really could use that.”
“Done,” Canard proclaimed simply, then took a bite of a waffle.
Observing him for a moment, Nosedive shifted his glare to Wildwing, who finally sat down across from them and began his breakfast with an omelet as well.
Nodding to himself, Nosedive recommenced his eating, content with status quo for the moment.
As he finally left for a shower, Wildwing snagged him with an afterthought, “Oh, Dive, by the way, what’s your father’s lawyer’s name?”
!!!
Opening the door, Shane pushed his way into the house and threw his duffle bag next to the wall. He walked down the hallway, passed the living room, and towards to the kitchen—
He halted, retraced his footsteps in his mind, then listened for the sound of the E.W.R. It was on. Huh. Backpedaling, he couldn’t help the smirk that percolated onto his beak.
Sprawled across the couch lay Nosedive, left hand behind his head, right dangling off the sofa with the remote. The teen seemed completely oblivious to Shane’s presence, but he certainly hadn’t wasted any time getting comfortable in their home in the three days he had been away. It was good to see the kid adjusting.
As if he finally realized someone was watching him, Nosedive turned toward him, a small grin upon his face. “Hey. How was your bootie call?”
Shane would have gagged if he hadn’t realized that the kid was brash by now. Stepping up to the end of the couch, the older drake ruffled the boy’s feet. “My weekend was great, thank you very much.”
Nosedive opened his beak—
“And you better not be asking for details.”
Frowning, Nosedive closed his beak.
Shane shook his head and looked about the living room. “Where’s Canard and Wildwing?”
“Wing’s at the academy getting a preliminary interview for a job, and I think Canard’s checking out a job on a base…somewhere. He didn’t go into details.”
“Okay.” Promptly, Shane lifted Nosedive’s feet, sat on the couch, then placed them on his lap. He glared at the E.W.R. and cringed at the program on it. “Why are you home watching this junk?”
“Junk?”
Nosedive reiterated skeptically. “JUNK! Dude, Drake’s World is anything but ‘junk.’ See,” he pointed to the
screen, “Drake is in love with Cady, but he is actually going out with
Shane glared at Nosedive. “You need to get out of the house more often, kid.”
“Hey, this is— ”
The chiming of the doorbell interrupted him.
Looking at Shane, Nosedive put out a fist. Shane matched it. They jumbled their hands three times, and on the third, they flicked fingers. One for Dive, two for Shane. Groaning, Shane heaved himself to his feet and jogged to the door.
Opening it, he stared skeptically at the military personnel, an older drake with graying tan hair and a gray complexion. He seemed to study Shane with a mixture of uncertainty and blatant dislike. “Is this the Bronzeplume residence?”
Shane, guarded and wary, tightened his grip on the door handle. “You’ve got the right place. May I help you?”
The man took off his gold hat. “I’m looking for Nosedive Flashblade. He’s my student.”
“And you are?”
“Captain Icedrake.” His tone mimicked his name.
Shane indicated for the man to follow and walked back into the house. “Hey, Dive. Do you know this—”
“Captain Icedrake!” Nosedive shouted, sitting up immediately on the couch. “W—What are you doing here?”
The captain bypassed Shane without even feigned courtesy and sat in a recliner in the room. “You missed our session again, Cadet, and when I attempted to contact you, I was told you were signed out of the academy.”
“My brother came home for the war, sir,” Nosedive said, sitting on the edge of the couch, rigid. “I’m not going back to the academy.”
The captain shook his head, and his face twisted into a dark frown. “Are you sure that is the best solution for you, Flashblade? Is that the solution your father would have wanted?”
“My father wouldn’t have wanted me in the academy if it was against my will,” Nosedive shot back, staring intensely back at Icedrake.
“Despite that, you refuse to live up to your potential,” Icedrake challenged. “Is that because of your father’s death? Do you feel lost?”
Nosedive made a face, crossing his arms and stifling the shivering fighting to wrack his body. “Look, you have no right to translate how I feel and how I don’t feel, okay? Who the hell do you think you are? Dr. Phil?”
“I’m not even going to pretend to know who that is,” disregarded the captain. “Your sarcastic defense mechanism is only for protection. Protection from what, Flashblade? Your fears of failure? Those around you? Yourself?”
“Wow, from seething conversion to in depth psychoanalysis in three seconds. I think you have a new record.” Shifting uncomfortably on the couch, ducking his head, Nosedive averted his eyes, unable to look in Icebeak’s.
“All right! I’ve had about enough!” Shane yelled, seizing Icebeak’s arm and yanking him to his feet. “Get out,” he fumed.
“Excuse me?” The captain questioned, jerking his arm from Shane’s hold. “I’m his psychiatrist. Don’t you realize that this boy is on the verge of an emotional—”
“—breakdown at your expense.” Shane gestured toward the door. “Captain Icebeak, leave now before I make you leave.”
Icebeak regarded Nosedive for a moment, the teen sitting on the edge of the couch, looking broken and pissed at the same time, then glared back at Shane. “He’s dangerous, Bronzeplume,” he whispered urgently to the younger man. “There’re emotions and feelings in there that I have not even begun to uncover. Between the Stigma—”
Nosedive winced.
“—his abuse at the hands of Dragaunus—”
A tormented cringe.
“—and his father’s murder, it’s only a matter of time before he destructs. Hopefully he won’t take anyone with him, including you,” the captain said plaintively. “He needs help, and he can get that help at the academy.”
“Or the emotional stomping used for a tremendous power trip,” Shane argued through barely contained rage. “Good day, Captain.”
Unrelenting, resilience unbound, Shane’s eyes left no room for argument. Icebeak narrowed his eyes for a moment, then placed his hat upon his head. He tipped the brim toward Nosedive. “I’ll be in touch, Cadet.” A underlying threat was weaved within the words, and instead of attempting to decipher it, Nosedive just flopped backwards on the couch at the slamming of the door.
“What was that about?” Shane asked quizzically. When he turned to Nosedive, what he found was a barely moving teenager, arm draped over his eyes.
“The guy’s a total creep, okay?” Nosedive scowled. “What more is there to know?” He twirled his free hand in the air.
Shane furled an inquiring eyebrow. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe the fact that he said he’s your psychiatrist.”
A flat snort sounded from his distraught counterpart. “He is. Or was.”
“Care to elaborate, or do we have to play twenty questions?”
Nosedive dropped his arm from his face and pushed himself up into a sitting position, legs crossed in front of his body. “Look, when I was thrown into the academy, a few people thought I might be…” He struggled with the wording. Eventually, he just shook his head glumly. “Destructive, I guess is the word. Violent. I mean, it’s like the man said. I’ve been through some unpleasant things, and…I displayed some behavior that might have been seen as such.”
“Such as?” Shane provoked, sitting on the arm of the couch.
Nosedive made a face. “I, uh, punched more than one of my dad’s colleagues.”
“Aw…kid…”
“Well, what the hell was I supposed to do?” Nosedive beseeched, his voice relying how he felt—helpless, desperate. “No one would listen to me, and they were making decisions about my life like I wasn’t even there. Then after the Prime Leader made a decree that I was going to the academy and they weren’t even telling Wildwing…It wasn’t pretty,” he admitted solemnly.
Shane sighed, then dropped to the couch. “Well, was he one of the guys you hit?”
Nosedive smiled fractionally. “No, but he’s on my ‘Next’ list.”
*^*^*
Nosedive stretched. It felt good to get outdoors and actually be outdoors. No barbed wire fence. No dictatorial tailfeathers telling him what to do. And no homework!
Of course, the purple-haired teen to his left couldn’t say the same thing.
Wandering down the corridor of the outside mall, Nosedive glanced at his best friend. It had been almost six months since he’d seen Tremaine Fowlen, and Stars, he’d missed him. Noticing his glare, Tremaine returned a smile, eyes fixed upon Nosedive’s head.
“So, how long until the hat’s gone?”
Nosedive shrugged, resituating his hat backwards upon his crown. “Until my hair grows back! Do you know how short it is? Originally, they shaved it! Shaved it!” His frantic voice conveyed his atrocious ordeal.
Tremaine redirected his enthralled attention with a nod at a particular storefront. Nosedive followed his gaze and smirked. Even after the time apart, they could communicate tacitly.
Ice cream.
“After what I had to eat,” Nosedive started toward the shop, “I think I deserve to splurged for.”
“What do you call five hundred credits?” Tremaine retorted.
Nosedive snickered. “Payoff. Wing felt guilty asking me who Dad’s lawyer was.”
Tremaine laughed, “So, can we expect this often?”
Nosedive graced him with a mischievous grin. “Oh, yeah. And I’m going to milk this for what it’s worth.”
“Like you didn’t do that before with the system?” A familiar voice posed from behind them right before they entered the shop.
Whirling, Nosedive gasped at the sight of the older female, though he knew who was the moment he heard the voice. He had heard it almost everyday when growing up. “Robyn?”
Cherry red feathers adorned the duck’s bright face, while dark brown pools for eyes focused amusedly down on the shorter mallard. She placed a hand on her hip, and Nosedive instantly took notice of the lack of military uniform—and lack of skirt. Her dress cutting at mid-thigh, there was nothing until black boots began at her calves. A tight, form-fitting sweater adorned her top, a turtleneck.
“Hey, Dive,” Robyn greeted, staring pointedly at his hat. “What happened to your hair?”
“Military school.” Snorting, he gestured to his panting counterpart. “Robyn McFeather, my best friend, Tre. Tre, Robyn used to work under my dad.”
“And you never invited me to your father’s office, why?” Tremaine asked curtly.
Nosedive decided to ignore him. “So, Robyn, where are you working now?”
The redhead flickered her curly, long hair over her shoulders. “Under General McMallard, but I have to honest. I truly miss your father. He was a pleasure to work for and an even better man.” Remorse filled her voice.
Nosedive found himself nodding. “Yeah. I know. I miss him, too.”
“Oh, Stars.” She smacked him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you.” She smiled sweetly, contrasting his rather melancholy frown. “Hey, now. How have you been holding up? Last thing I heard you were off to the Commissioner’s Academy. I’m sure wherever your father was, he screamed when he saw that.”
“THANK YOU!” Nosedive emphasized with more emotion than needed. “See? Finally someone who knew my dad!”
Robyn’s light laughter depreciated to a heavy sigh. “Nosedive, I’m sorry to bring this up, but no one ever informed us of anything other than your father was murdered and we were transferred. Did they ever find the killer?”
“Why does everyone always ask me that first?” the teen scowled. Shaking his head, he admitted sadly, “No, they didn’t.”
“Do they at least know what the killer was after?”
“No. They think he got whatever he wanted, but…I don’t know. Other than money or something…but my dad said on the phone not to give it to the guy. For Dad to get that insistent, it had to be something more than money.”
Robyn cocked her head to the side and spared a glance at the mesmerized Tremaine. “Maybe it had to do with something your father was working on.”
“Well, you would know more than me, Rob,” Nosedive relented. “Dad didn’t tell me anything about his job this time. He said it was too dangerous.”
Robyn huffed at Tremaine, the boy practically drooling, before grasping Nosedive about the shoulders. “Excuse us,” she said to the teenager with a forced smile and led Nosedive a few feet away. “This has to be kept between you and me, okay?”
Nosedive nodded instantly, keeping his steady eyes upon her. Finally, he would find out what was so important.
Robyn hesitated, pursing her beak, then divulged, “Your father was working on a force field for Puckworld. It was supposed to engulf the whole planet to stop another invasion. With it operational, it would have kept any ships from entering our airspace without military consent.”
“What’s so secret about that?” Nosedive questioned, genuinely bewildered.
“It’s dangerous, Dive. Don’t you see that? Anyone who holds the initiation key would possess the power to hold the entire population hostage. No one could get on or off the planet. If the Saurians had gotten hold of it, it would have meant utter suppression under their rule.”
“Like we weren’t already that,” Nosedive snorted. “So, why would someone kill my dad? To stop the project from going through?”
“Well, your father was the point man,” Robyn pondered thoughtfully, examining Nosedive. Her eyes laid directly on the glimmering white lavaliere about his neck. It shone brightly in the daystar’s light, a makeshift, immaculate puck. On the top of the puck was the impression of two sticks crossing with a puck between them and a shield behind. It was the crest of the newly reformed Puckworld Legion. “Where’d you get that? I don’t remember you wearing that before.”
Nosedive, surprised, glanced down at his necklace. “Oh, this? Wildwing gave it to me.”
“Wildwing?” She echoed in disbelief. A knowing smile formed on her face less than a moment later. “Oh, your brother, right?”
“Bingo.”
“Well, I have to get going,” she smiled gently and thumbed over her shoulder. “I have a date. Give my apologies to you friend over there.”
Nosedive smirked. “Are you kidding? I get to make fun of him for this for the rest of day.” His face darkened slightly. “Thanks for knowing my dad, Robyn. I mean, really knowing him.”
“Like I said, your dad was a great drake, and you know what? So are you, kid.” She punched Nosedive playfully on the shoulder. “Tell you what. I’ll keep my ears open. If I hear anything about what your father was working on, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks,” Nosedive said, eyes feral with hope.
“No problem. If something comes up, should I contact you at the academy?”
“No, I’m living with my brother. You need the number?” he asked.
“Nah,” Robyn dismissed, walking away, “I’ll find you.”
*^*^*
“You don’t understand, Wing,” Shane persisted as he sat at the kitchen counter. “Icebeak came around again. That’s the third time in as many weeks.”
Wildwing, idly flipping through the mail, shrugged. “So? You didn’t let him, right?”
“No, but we can’t kept him out forever.”
“We won’t have to. I’ve already filed for custody. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.”
Shane growled under his breath, causing Wildwing to raise his eyes. “What’s the problem?”
Shane looked to the side, indecision gripping him. “What…What if what he said was true? Dive has been through a lot in his young life, and most of it Icebeak doesn’t know. What if he will…self-destruct?”
“What?” Wildwing protested. He sent his older brother a disinterested look. “Come on, Shane. He’s a kid, and he talks to me. He’ll be fine.”
“When does he talk to you? I haven’t seen you guys have a meaningful conversation since we’ve returned three weeks ago. I think the most you’ve talked is telling Dive he can’t have pizza every night.”
Wildwing still didn’t give his older brother his full attention as he stopped at one letter, studying it intently. “You’re not up at two in the morning when Nosedive has phantasms. Would you like me to wake you next time?” His voice feigned seriousness.
Shane blinked. “He wakes you up?”
An absent shrug was Wildwing’s response. “With Dive to look after on Earth, I think I developed heightened hearing for him. I wake up when he cries. His father’s death is still getting to him, but he slept through the night yesterday.”
“Yeah, but what—” Nosedive walked in the room behind him, and Shane quickly shifted gears without missing a beat. “—do you think we should have for dinner?”
In the short time they had lived together, the three Bronzeplumes seemed to have the switching of conversation down to an art form when they spoke about things they didn’t want their youngest counterpart to know.
“Hey, kiddo,” Wildwing greeted, handing his little brother an envelope, “seems you got mail today.”
Nosedive studied it with mild interest. “Who would send me a letter?”
Shane agreed. “I think the question actually is: Who knows you’re here and sent you a letter?”
Nosedive shrugged noncommittally and ripped open the letter as Shane turned back to Wildwing.
“I was thinking pizza, but that’s just me.”
Wildwing discarded the rest of the mail on the counter. “No way. I know it’s Dive’s favorite food, but no. We’ve had three times this week. I’m in the mood for lo mein.”
Shane reached for the cordless phone on the counter and clicked it on. “You think Canard will go for that?”
“Ah, who cares? If we order it, he’ll have no choice but to agree.”
“Kiddo, what about you?” Shane turned to Nosedive and froze.
The boy clutched the contents of the envelope in his hands—pictures—and glared at them with wide, distant eyes. His eyesight snapped upward, piercing azure eyes glistening with tears. “H—How?” He demanded shakily. “I would have seen him! I would have known!”
Wildwing was at his side instantly and ripped the pictures from his little brother’s trembling hands. Looking down at them, he gasped.
Nosedive crying over his father’s body, attempting to resuscitate Harper.
Nosedive being pulled away from Harper by Tremaine and a girl Wildwing vaguely recognized.
Nosedive holding his friends on the back lawn, crying.
Nosedive sitting on the edge of an ambulance, caked blood dirtying his jeans’ knees and calves, while blood coated his hands and was even smeared in his hair. He looked somewhat collected, though he was undoubtedly on the verge of tears. In front of him stood numerous police officers and medical technicians. The next picture was at the same location, but Nosedive had eaned forward on his thighs, covering his face with his hands. Tears seeped through the slits between his fingers.
More pictures—one at the funeral, another of Nosedive and his father’s colleagues at a diner, Nosedive at Tremaine’s house, a picture of his little brother with the Prime Leader…it went on and on and was more than slightly disconcerting. Someone had been following his brother for a while. The only comfort he had was not one of the pictures was taken at their house. Of course, now that the person knew his brother lived with him, he doubted that would be the case.
On the last picture was a post-it. In sinister, sharp lines was written, “Give it to me, and it won’t happen again.”
Wildwing took in a shivering inhale of air. It was more than slightly disturbing, and he handed the pictures quickly to Shane. Shane cringed at the mere sight of the first one. It was gruesome, and to someone who had lived through it, it was nothing less than torture.
“How?” Nosedive asked again, softer and more meek. Tears trickled from his eyes. “Why?”
Wildwing shook his head and grabbed his brother in a firm, one-armed hug. “I don’t know, but we’ll find out,” he vowed. He added with a demonstrative squeeze, “I promise.”
*^*^*
Wildwing sighed as a captain of the police force also let out a reinforced exhale. He fixed Wildwing with a stringent glare before letting his sight drift to the boy sitting on the bench a little ways away, elbows leaning on his thighs, two older mallards on either side of him.
“It’s not good, Mr. Bronzeplume,” Captain Verbeak resigned dismally. “I checked for fingerprints, and only yours and your brothers’ are on the pictures and envolpe.”
“I figured that,” Wildwing rejoined, “but what does those pictures mean? Was the killer in the house with Nosedive?”
“I can’t answer your questions, but my opinion: yes. The killer must have murdered Flashblade to get his son home and figured the victim would go after whatever it is. After speaking with your brother, though, I’m convinced he has no idea what the object is.”
Wildwing almost flinched at someone calling his brother a “victim,” but realized with a morose heart that was exactly what his brother was. That was enough to spur anger in him. “What can we do to keep him safe?”
The captain hesitated. “I would put police guards on him, but I don’t think that’s wise. The killer will strike when he’s most vulnerable, and since it’s been six months, he doesn’t have a time element. He’ll just wait until we’re gone.”
“So, what do you suggest?” Wildwing pressed.
“Well, the only thing I can think of is not to leave your brother alone. No matter what you do, keep him with you or one of your brothers at all times. Even in the same house, make sure he’s in the same room with you. It might take months, hell, even years, but if that’s what it takes to keep him safe, then do it.”
Wildwing frowned, knowing his brother would not tolerate being within an earshot all the time. “What about a safe house? Can’t we take him out of the limelight and secure him that way?”
“And the moment he left it, he’d be back in the same predicament. No. If you wait out the killer, eventually he’ll have to strike when you’re there, and then you can stop him.”
Wildwing peered back his little brother, who couldn’t stay still for a minute. The teen fidgeted with his fingers, then abruptly stood, bouncing up and down on his tippy toes twice. Finally, he took a seat back again, but his leg jumbled up and down.
“Captain, I don’t like my brother being bait. I don’t want to make a mistake, especially if this killer is as intelligent as he seems.”
The Captain stared back at Wildwing with a fierce glare. “Then don’t.”
*^*^*
Nursing a cup of coffee in his hands, Wildwing leaned against the doorway of the living room. He allowed the warmth to diffuse into his body as he stared with intention at his brother. Sleeping soundly on the couch, sprawled across it with his blanket barely covering his spread out arms and legs, Nosedive snored rather quietly. A fond smile graced Wildwing’s features, but it quickly fell.
Someone was threatening his family, and that was inexcusable. The person had killed Harper in cold blood with Nosedive listening, and though his brother had told him about the experience, Wildwing couldn’t truly fathom. It was appalling. He couldn’t imagine what it would like listening to a loved ones last words—the fear, the pain.
As if Nosedive sensed his discomfort, the teen stirred, a lingering cry under his breath. Wildwing placed his coffee upon the table as he passed and knelt at his brother’s side. Touching Nosedive’s shoulder, he drew the broken teen in his arms to once more pick up the pieces of his shattered life.
Unbeknownst to the Featherburns, Shane sat down on the stairs and for the first time, heard the sobs as well.
TO BE CONTINUED…