Life After Earth: Double-Edged Sword

Chapter One: Shattered Life

 

I’m so tired of being here…

Suppressed by all my childish fears…

 

*GASP*

 

His breaths drowned out every other noise as he fought the exhaustion and desperation that swept through his being. The Aerowing’s alarm blared loudly, though it only dimly touched his ears. The wind pounded his rigid body—only a soft whistle.

 

 *GASP*

 

His eyes frantically darted about the disintegrating cabin as he struggled to find a way of out of the death trap. A fiery hole blown through the right port, the flames engulfing that region, the wind threatening to wrench them to their deaths, the miscellaneous metal equipment thrown about the confinement as the plane plummeted toward the awaiting ice…

 

He was the leader! It was his responsibility to save his team! He wouldn’t let them die! Not after all they have been through together…not after Earth…

 

*GASP*

 

He clinched his teeth as he fought against his captor—his pilot’s chair. The heavy weight crushing him against the left console, the jagged metal digging into the flesh about his waist, he heaved the constriction, strained to free himself…

 

It wasn’t good enough.

 

Another blast ripped through the right side of the Aerowing, tearing through the remaining console and toward his teammates…his friends…his family. The heated wind burned his feathers; metal projectiles smashed into the area about him. He flinched and shunned away …

 

*GASP*

 

A bloodcurdling scream!

 

Wildwing’s eyes shot open. He reeled his masked face toward the missing copilot seat.

 

“NOSEDIVE!”—

 

—“Wildwing?”

 

 

“Wildwing? Hel-lo! You alive in there?”

 

*Snap* *Snap*

 

 

“You know, you can’t be dead because if you’re dead, well …that just isn’t right!” The voice ranted.

 

That voice…he knew that voice…

 

He tried to open his beak, but no words would form. He struggled to open his eyes…

 

—Flames were all around him!— 

 

He hissed, causing the presence over him to jump away. An overdramatic sigh sounded, “Sure, be in pain! Like that’ll help the situation!”

 

A cool breeze blew about his body, soothing the burning, urging him to open eyes. He knew that feeling, its comfort, its ironic warmth—its love. He flexed his fingers, rubbing them cautiously against the ice cold ground. He once more felt the comforting presence next to him, then a cooling sensation lightly brushed his hand. His body relaxed, and the word murmured naturally from his beak.

 

“Nosedive?”

 

No words were needed.

 

The sensation engulfed his body.—

 

And if you had to leave…

 

—*BEEP*

 

He cracked open his eyes. The blinding light seared pain behind his eyes, gaining a grunt through his tense beak. Groaning, he let his eyes droop shut again and reveled in the sound of a faint beeping…a heart monitor. He was at least alive. Now the question was: where was he?


The light slowly faded until it was comfortable against his retina. The pain ceased behind his eyes, though a nagging throbbing had set in his chest. Filled with dread was his stomach. What was that? A chilling breeze swept over him for a moment, sending shivers down his spine, but somehow…it was familiar all the same. Deprecating words echoed in his head…

 

“I’m sure. So, where are we, little brother?”

 

Nothing louder than a whisper returned, “Home.”

 

Was it true? Were they finally on Puckworld? Was that the air he felt? No more Anaheim heat, no more sweat-ridden feathers, unless playing hockey, no more…

 

Shadows across his eyes, they were nothing more than a reflection against glass…

 

The fiery cockpit, the life-sucking wind, the mangled and convulsing body of his baby brother pinned to the

scorched starboard side by a metal rod through the left side of his abdomen, blood dripping down upon his legs, a weeping arm lesion blurring its life force with that of the stomach wound, golden bangs matted with blood, a macabre shrill for dear life…

 

“No…” A muted scream rasped from his throat. He closed his eyes, denying himself the inevitable. It wasn’t true. That wasn’t what he saw. That couldn’t be what he saw. “Nosedive…”

 

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BE-EP*

 

His heart monitor raced as his lungs failed to breathe correctly. Sucking in ragged breaths, losing precious oxygen, his body trembled involuntarily. His brother, the bloodcurdling scream, the body, the pain, the helplessness…

 

NO! His mind screamed.  In, out, in, out, he breathed rapidly, unable to stop. He was physically incapable of calming himself. The scream…oh, God…it just resonated over and over and over…

 

A hand grasped the side of his head sternly as a gas mask clamped over his beak.

 

“BREATH! JUST BREATH!” A harsh voice commanded of him. 

 

His eyes softened, he only barely registered the familiar voice, though its presence didn’t have the calming effect it once had. His lungs’ burning soothed, as tears brimmed his eyelids. The heart monitor’s beeping slowed.

 

“Are you okay? Can you hear me?” The voice questioned, its edge gone, replaced by concern.

 

Wildwing swallowed and took a deep breath.  Cracking open his blood-shot eyes, he stared into the light blue eyes that he never thought he’d see again. They reflected his own, though the slight glimmer of a disconsolation bubbled through the graying mallard.

 

 As agonizing wheeze slowed to agonizing breath, his heart throbbed with a new feeling.

 

“Dad…” He hissed as pain inflamed in his ribs and throat.

 

A strong hand clasped his own. “I’m here, son. You’re going to be fine. Just hang in there with me, okay?”

 

Wildwing breathed deeply, then broke into a hacking fit. His ribs ached as his body jerked; his throat burned when he finally regained control. He gulped hard and stammered through the oxygen mask that still covered his face. “D…D-Dive?”

 

His father’s eyes softened even more. “Wildwing…your brother…he’s…” The general couldn’t finish his sentence as he tore from his son’s gaze, and the tears trickled down his cheeks.

 

He stared at his father, terrified, his eyes darting from side to side, taking in the whole circumstance. He was unable to move, unable to breathe.  Everything seemed too surreal. His brother couldn’t be…yet, a burning set in his chest, blazing white hot!

 

—A blurted, desperate scream echoed throughout the silent room, yet provoked no response, “WILDWING!”—

 

—Wildwing laid demoralized as his father leaned his head against his bed, his body expelling the pent-up emotions. The former older brother blinked a few times as everything, everyone suddenly became distant. He could only hear his father like an echo, the heart monitor beeping fading. Tremors slowly shivered through his frame. The air about him thickened; each breath was suddenly harder and harder to take.

 

—*GASP*—

 

He closed his eyes, the heat overtaking him, the pressure in his chest too much, and he sank into a welcoming darkness…

 

The last thing he felt was something, deep within his soul…SHATTER!—

 

I wish that you would just leave…

 

— *BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

 

“Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen,” the nurse shouted firmly.

 

“We’re losing him! Hold towels to that!”

 

“BLOOD, STAT!”

 

The doctor breathed two rescue breaths into his patient’s beak before feeling the neck for a pulse. “No good,” he reported with urgency. “Again!”

 

The female nurse locked her elbows and pressed the heel of her palm into the chest cavity once more, twice more, three times, four…fifteen…

 

*GASP* *GASP*

 

The doctor’s shaking hand felt the neck of the young teenager. Too young, the doctor scowled, to die. The boy couldn’t be any older than seventeen…

 

He reached for the defibrillator, the nurse not even a second behind him. Squeezing the gel from the tube onto the electrodes, the nurse immediately dove back to the bed. With one rip, the boy’s bloodied jumpsuit was torn free at the chest area.

 

“CLEAR!” The distressed doctor screamed madly at the personnel working on the boy’s other life threatening wounds.

 

They recoiled immediately, and he went down with the two electrodes, one on the left breast, the other under the right. The patient’s lifeless body jerked from the bed as the electricity shocked through it.

 

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

 

“Come on, kid! Come on!”

 

The boy’s body contorted violently in the air again before slamming back hard onto the table with a morbid reverberation.

 

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*—

 

‘Cause your presence still lingers here

And it won’t leave me alone…

 

—The white duckling thrashed under his covers, pushing himself furiously into a sitting position and cupping his clammy hands over his ears. Pulling his knees closer to his chest, Wildwing heard the—his baby brother’s?—scream echoing in his head, desperately crying for life. He squeezed his eyes shut as a soft whine escaped his beak. He rocked his little form back and forth as the memory replayed in his head…his failure

 

As the scream lessened into the night, he slowly uncoiled his legs and exhaled. He didn’t understand what was happening or why he kept having the nightmare. The third time since his new baby brother had been brought home over a week ago had he been forced to listen, helplessly, to his brother’s dying cry and the familiar screams he knew by heart, but had never heard before in his life, unable to do anything to save them…

 

The duckling clutched his knot-torn stomach as he buried his tear-stained face in his pillow. So many questions remained unanswered. Who were those people? Why was the plane crashing? Why couldn’t he safe them? What was Earth?

 

Urging itself hesitantly into existence, the realization finally hit like a slap shot—

 

—his parents had yet to name his little brother. 

 

“Nosedive?” The word chafed his throat. Was that to be his little brother’s name? But how did he—?

 

A cool, soothing breeze blew over the trembling mallard, easing his tense muscles, relieving his sweated feathers. His choked sobs quieted as he lifted his head and timidly peered toward the door.

 

No one was there.

 

Across the hall his baby brother’s door squeaked opened eerily, calling him to it. Sniffling, Wildwing wiped his face and nose holes with his sleeve and apprehensively stood. Pitter patter, pitter patter, he walked across the hard, woodened floor and halted at the door. He took a deep breath. A glance left, then right. Twisting the door handle, Wildwing felt a twinge of uneasiness tug at him from his gut. A feeling of dread swarmed over him. The dream resurfaced in front of his eyes…

 

“NOSEDIVE!”

 

The cool breeze once more dusted his feathers, soothing that feeling…urging him to enter. He reveled in the comfort and security of the wind’s presence and stepped lightly in the room.—

 

These wounds won’t seem to heal.

This pain is just too real.

There’s just too much that time cannot erase.

 

—This was the furthest he had ever been since returning to Puckworld two months ago. Try as he did prior to this moment, his heart had always denied him the will to access. He had made excuses—he didn’t need to torture himself. He didn’t want to see it.

 

It burned at his soul.

 

Deep down where all it did was sear, the void burned.

 

That’s all it did when he woke up in the morning. It flamed through his being when he snapped out the light at night. It writhed at his heart when he stared at the door every time he walked up the stairs into the hallway.

 

And it only got worse…

 

Because damn it, his soul had been severed.

 

And it burned.

 

It hurt more than anything. It hurt more than he could have ever believed, and now, standing at the edge of the abyss, at the doorway to his life, staring directly into his demise, Wildwing clenched his shirt over his chest and let the tears fall.

 

The room was no different, really; he saw, sucking in dry heaves. The teal walls were still covered with posters of heavy metal and rock bands that had remained tacked during the entire invasion and their time on Earth. The maroon and teal carpeting was still hidden underneath the mixture of clothes, comic books, hockey equipment, *crunch* …and soda cans.

 

Oh, but was it different. The feelings of warmth and comfort, what had radiated from his little brother’s presence, was now lost, replaced by stale, misty air. The always present booming of the R.S.A. (RM: radio signal apparatus = radio) was gone; silence remained. The flavor of life drowned in the darkness that consumed the room, never to be lit again.

 

The bloodcurdling scream resonated!

 

“NO!”

 

Wildwing’s knees buckled; the tears streamed from his squeezed shut eyes, unwilling to stop. Sobs wracked his body as he involuntarily trembled. The searing pain inflamed once more in his heart, burning ever so more…

 

It replayed and replayed and replayed…

 

“Stop…” He pleaded, his weakest command. “Just stop…”

 

—The five-year-old boy hesitantly reached his hands through the bars and brushed his little fingers against the sleeping form’s face. The scream in his head faded from existence as the brightest blue eyes flashed opened, studying the older brother. A soft giggle echoed through the room. Wildwing smiled fondly and ran his hand through his baby brother’s short, fuzzy, blonde hair.

 

“Hi,” he greeted, “…Nosedive.”

 

He jumped backwards; his retracting fingers grazed the flames as they engulfed the crib! Covering his hands over his ears, the alarm blared loudly. The fire consumed the room, encircling the little duckling; the heat brushing against his feathers.

 

He shrilled!—

 

—*GASP*

 

He blinked, the only motion his body could make. It was the only thing he was physically capable of doing, clenched by soul-wrenching fear, as he stared at his brother, their eyes locked in desperate, silenced imploration. No words were exchanged. Their eyes reflected everything was said and yet, everything that never was. And by the glistening tears that trickled down their cheeks, they knew that which they could not change…—

 

—Wildwing shrieked, a primeval, deathly howl from the depths of his soul. His body sunk on his haunches, the sobs just overtaking him.

 

It was more than he could handle. The pain, his brother’s scream, the plane crash…it flashed in front his eyes every time he shut them, every time he rested. It gnawed at him, haunted him…

 

A gust of cool air blasted about him; a flicker of light danced upon his eyes.

 

His vision blurred from the onslaught of tears; his eyes widened.—

 

—The flames flickered!—

 

Hypnotized, he reached tentatively for the shimmering object on the ground… 

 

—A flash of blonde hair!—

 

A picture of his brother and him right after they had landed on Earth…

 

He just stared at it, captivated, his sobs silencing, his tears drying. The cool breeze blew his hair, soothing his burning for mere moments.

 

—*GASP*—

 

The glass picture frame crashed down upon the nearby bed post—shattering—

 

To Be Continued…