“Life After Earth”
Chapter Three: Silence
These wounds won’t seem to heal.
This pain is just too real.
There’s just too much that time cannot
erase.
The only noise in
the room was the sound of Canard’s ice clinking to the bottom of his glass. He
dropped the object to the end table and grinned timidly at the people within
the room.
They hadn’t been
reunited in two months since their return. After an average three week in the
hospital and another one at this house until they found their families, the six
remaining members of the Mighty Ducks hadn’t been together.
There wasn’t much
to say. They had become a family on Earth, only to split to find their own
blood once they returned, leaving the acquired bonds behind. Tanya, sitting on
the love seat with her legs crossed, had been the first to leave. She left
swiftly, stating only that she would never forget any of them and promised to
return. Mallory, sharing the love seat, had done the same. The only difference,
she kissed Wildwing on the cheek and replied brokenly, “I’m sorry,” before
bursting into tears and fleeing. To this day, no one truly understood what she
meant. Grin and Duke both left on the same day, but Grin’s response had been
slightly different than those prior to him. He clasped Wildwing on the
shoulder, looked about the house, and rumbled softly, “Those who leave us never
truly do.” Duke had made a flippant comment that sounded too much like
Nosedive, something to the effect of, “The same goes for beans,” before
ushering the giant out.
But Wildwing and
Canard, they had stayed. Unlike those who left, they had to deal with it…the
absence, day in and out. Now, confined
in the house in which so many stories had risen, the Mighty Ducks were silent.
From his
meditative position on the floor, Grin eyed the empty seat on the couch, the
space between Wildwing and Canard. Satisfied, he nodded to himself and closed
his eyes.
They never truly
leave.
“So…um…how has
everyone been?” Duke stammered with obvious discomfort. It was ironic that
after all they had been through on Earth—They had lived together!— the team was
uncomfortable with one another.
Duke sighed as he
received nothing more than a chorus of “good,” one silent, and another
“samsara’s will.”
“You know,
funerals aren’t supposed to be sad,” Tanya finally drawled after a few intense
moments. “They’re supposed to be a celebration of the life a person has lived.”
“Tell that to the
person who died,” Duke spat angrily. He immediately eyed his former leader and
grimaced, “Uh, sorry Wildwing.”
The comment
didn’t register with the younger mallard. Besides the empty welcoming, red
rimmed eyes, and a pale expression, Wildwing stared into space. Abruptly, he
perked to life and stared down at the couch next to him, a look of confusion on
his face. Grin was the only one who caught it.
“Um…” Canard
gulped, then dusted his hair. “I…um…remember when the kid had this crush on…”
He stopped short, looking straight at Mallory. She was listening attentively,
and he cringed internally. “He had a crush on this…uh… blonde that used to come
in at the Corner Pizzeria. When I finally asked her out for him, I found out I
had asked the wrong girl.”
“What happened?”
Duke urged on the edge of his recliner, one foot dangling the other retracted
to the edge. He seemed desperate for any reprieve from the heavy moments.
“He, uh, had to
go out with the girl because he didn’t have the heart to tell her.”
A snort escaped
from Mallory and a slight chuckle from Tanya.
“Poor kid,” Duke
sympathized with a shake of his head.
“Not too poor,”
Mallory replied with a smirk. “If I remember correctly all the pranks he pulled
on me, he deserved to go on one lousy date.”
“Who said
anything about lousy?” asked Canard, innocently. “The kid got the biggest good
night kiss ever, and if I remember correctly, they were going to make-out
before Wing and I stopped them.”
Rolling her eyes,
Tanya threw her pillow at the younger mallard. “And how did you know that they
were going to?”
Canard placed the
pillow behind his head and smiled. “Wing lent the kid his jeep, and then we hid
out in the back!”
“You’re
terrible!”
“That’s big
brotherhood for ya!”
With a dry laugh,
Mallory rested her elbows upon her knees, then cupped her hands together. “Big
brotherhood, huh? How about being an older, female team member of that kid,
huh?”
“What are you
talking about, sweetheart?” Duke questioned as he leaned closer, his relaxed
mood gone, replaced by perplexity.
Mallory glanced
toward him before letting out a drawled sigh. “It was a little over a year
after we had landed on Earth, and well, Dive had asked me out to a movie.”
Tanya’s eyes
widened considerably, her beak gaping. “You—you mean, you and—”
“No!” Mallory
disputed immediately, hitting the blonde duck in the side with a pillow. “Don’t
even finish that statement!”
“Then what?”
Canard urged.
Mallory lingered
for a moment before spurting, “It was just one teammate hanging out with
another. I mean, come on! He and I used to shop all the time together. This was
no different, right?
“But, well, this
time…this time was different. He had an agenda. I should have realized that the
second he wanted to take one Duckcycle instead two and I could smell him. Long
story short, after he held the door for me and brought the tickets, he tried to
kiss me during it, right when Spiderman had saved Mary Jane!”
“You’re kidding!”
Tanya squealed.
“Brave kid,” Duke
smirked satisfied. “You wouldn’t even let me call you ‘sweetheart’ without a
punch until way after that!”
Canard wasn’t
phased. “Sounds like the kid.”
Tanya’s laugh
echoed through the room. “What *HA!* did you *HA! HE!* to *HA AH!*?”
“What do you
think, Tanya?” A mischievous smirk curled onto Mallory’s beak. “I kicked in the
groin and made him walk home.”
An uproar of
laughter enveloped the room. To Grin, who even let out a brief chuckle, they
were no longer on Puckworld. The living room of the Featherburn residence faded
into the Main Room of the Pond as the team discussed whatever topic they had
landed on that night. And, like most nights, it involved something Nosedive had
done prior. On the coffee table was a mixture of food—Chinese, Italian, a
little Thai, and even a papaya. Dressed in normal clothing, the ducks wore
their comm. units, a faint reminder that they were not on Puckworld, normal ducks
living normal lives. They were on a
foreign planet, people thrown together for no other reason but for the common
good of their home planet and for that of another. Family, not of blood, but of
bonds, clinging to one another for the simple need to know that they were not
alone.
The rooms once
more blurred as Wildwing turned to Grin, the light that once was the guiding of
the Mighty Ducks, dulled to that of a normal man, distraught with no hope. It
was nothing more than a reminder that they had returned home, that they had
defeated Dragaunus—
—that Nosedive
was dead.
And like everyone
in the room, Grin would have elected to stay on Earth if it meant Nosedive was
still alive, overzealous and obnoxious as ever, but they didn’t receive a
choice. What once was, was no longer.
As the laughs
lessened and the teammates, friends, and family began to relax, Tanya let out
one last giggle, before her story began. “You guys remember the Crystal of
Atlantis, right?”
“I remember Dr.
Droid using it to turn you, Grin, and the kid into Mites on Ice,” Duke smirked.
“Well, you know
how we never saw the
“Yeah, you’re
right, Tanya,” Mallory agreed, crossing her left leg over her right. “You’d
think those Atlanteans would have at least said something about it.”
“Well, you guys
never knew it, but…the
Canard’s face
contorted in confusion. “Where did it go? If it had the power to shrink people,
we possibly would have used it against Dragaunus. Its powers could have been…”
His voice trailed on as Tanya’s grin widened. He crossed his arms over his
chest. “Okay, what’d the kid do with it?”
Tanya snorted
loudly. “He tried to turn himself into a superhero!”
“I should have
known,” Canard replied, shaking his head wistfully.
“He had a cape
and everything! He even tried to situate the
Attempting to
catch his breath, Duke gasped in between fits of chuckles. “Oh, I can’t
imagine! *AH! HA!* It’s almost as bad as when he stole the Dragon Amulet!”
The conversation
halted immediately, everyone’s head turning simultaneously toward Duke.
Mallory’s beak dropped open, while Canard’s forehead crinkled. Tanya shook her
head in denial. Grin blinked.
“What!?!” They
exclaimed incredulously in unison.
“What are you
talking about?! You destroyed it after Asteroth opened a gateway to the Dark
Zone.” Mallory disputed, throwing her wings in the air.
“What?” Canard
sent her a pointed glare. He was completely confused.
Tanya huffed,
offhanded, “A little while after we landed on Earth, Dragaunus transported the
team, except Grin, to another
Canard nodded,
speechless. Finally, he mumbled, “Ah…thanks for that…uh, summary.”
“No problem.”
“That’s just want
it did. Transportation, sweetheart.” Duke interceded with a knowing smile. “In
between our two encounters with the Smokie the Fire Dragon, it sent Nosedive
into the Dark Zone.”
“You’re kidding,”
Mallory breathed, stunned. “He went into the Dark Zone? How did he get back?”
Duke shrugged and
lightly traced an invisible pattern with his forefinger around the end table’s
edge. His vision fixed outside into the night, he recalled solemnly, “I don’t
know the whole story. Wildwing was pretty closed-beak about it, but I can tell
you the kid was shaking like a duckling who had just hatched. His eyes were
wide and rapid. His hair was matted, while he was covered in—I don’t even know
what! And he just kept babbling about scissors and death and his hair.” Shaking
his head forlornly, Duke sighed and turned to the group; his good eye was even
fearful. “We’d all seen the kid scared before, but this was beyond that. He was
incoherent.”
“Why didn’t we
know about this?” Tanya questioned softly after a few moments of stillness. “I
should have looked him over, made sure there was nothing physically wrong.”
“Wing and I did
that, but you guys were off doing a photo shoot for Phil and Disney in
Mallory hung her
head and looked about the group. “Why didn’t he ever say anything?”
“He was a boy,
lost in the depth of his own life and that which he had experienced—his worst
fears,” Grin expressed calmly. He slowly opened his eyes and bore them into
each member of the group. “We are simply caught in the will of samsara, driven
by our actions, our karma. It is through the latter that we, as beings, are
judged.
“After everything
is said and everything is done, our friend was still just a boy, following his
older brother, trying to find his place on a team that held him as such and in
the alien world, which never truly understood the greatness that was Nosedive
Featherburn.”
Everyone stared
at him, astonished and taken back, Grin’s words sinking into their beings.
Wildwing suddenly
rose, reminding everyone of his presence.
His face contorted in an pale and rigid expression. “Excuse me,” he
whispered before he stumbled from the room.
Canard stood
silently a second later and took a step toward the hallway, only to be held
back as a hand laid upon his shoulder. He cocked his head to see Grin standing
there, his brown eyes soft and comforting. “No, he needs to deal with this
alone.”
Abruptly, a cold
wind whipped through the room, blowing through their hair and feathers,
startling them all.
When you cried, I’d wipe away all of your
tears.
When you’d scream, I’d fight away all of
your fears.
I held your hand through all of these
years,
But you still have…
Wildwing slammed
his back against the refrigerator as he sucked in wet, ragged breaths, tears
trickling down his cheeks. Dropping his head into his hands, he tried to stop
his friends’ words from resounding in his head. He couldn’t face what they had
said, the reminiscing…the memories…the words…the voice…the scream…
*GASP*
His brother
wasn’t coming back. He had to face that fact, but this? This was far worse. He
had lived a lifetime with Nosedive. He had watched his brother grow up…and all
he wanted to do was forget. If Nosedive was gone, then let him leave.
*GASP*
Yet, there was no
way to stop the unwanted visions arousing in his mind. He couldn’t forget what
it felt like to run his hand through his little brother’s hair. He remembered
the light in Nosedive’s eyes every time the boy looked up at him, or the smack
of the puck when it hit his pads from his brother’s shot, the familiar saying,
“Hey big bro!” or the warmth against his side when the two walk the mall, his
arm around his baby brother’s shoulders…or…or…
*GASP*
But…didn’t they
others know? They were teammates of Nosedive, too. Don’t they remember that
horrific day on the Aerowing, the day it exploded apart, the day they fell from
the sky…
…don’t they hear the screaming?!
They acted as
nothing had changed, but everything had. Nosedive wasn’t there. He wasn’t never
to sit in between he and Canard again, or play hockey, or harass Mallory. There
was never going to be another time when Nosedive depended on him to save his
life…
His little
brother was... was…and it was time to say—
*GASP!*
His father was
right. Canard was right. Even General Ganderflock. War had changed him. He was
no longer who he was. Without his brother…WITHOUT
HIS BROTHER…
He slumped
against the refrigerator, his body no longer possessing the will to stand on
its own. Lightning flickered outside the window against the darkened night as
the hail clattered down onto the patio on the other side of the kitchen door.
Rolling thunder rumbled through his ears, the howling wind shrilling through
the branches of the pine trees…
…and blurring
with nature’s elements resounded his brother’s dying scream.
A bright flash
crackled, lighting up the disconsolate kitchen.—
—Snowed over,
directly in front him on the kitchen floor stood baby Nosedive, holding his
arms out to Wildwing, swimming in a huge shirt, covering from his neck to below
his little webbed feet. “Wilding,” he asked, his little tongue missing the
second ‘w.’ “Will you play hockey with me?”—
—Wildwing’s eyes
fluttered open, as he stumbled away from the refrigerator, hands in the air as
to keep his little brother back, staring frightened at the child that was not
there.
“No! Stop!”
His butt bumped
into a hard object, demoralizing him. Pivoting fast, Wildwing leveled his fists
defensively at chest height to his enemy—the kitchen table. Thunder boomed as
he sighed, his shadow flickering on the wall across from him. For a moment, his
shadow had long hair and was shorter, less muscular. A glimmer of light flashed
through his mystification, reflecting from a shiny surface below. His vision
lingered downward.
A coldness seeped
into his being as he tensed, a tingling rushing over him. Breathless, Wildwing
stared at the picture, his complete, captive attention stolen by its
familiarity.
It was of he and
his baby brother, after they had just arrived on Earth—the same picture he
first saw over a week ago when he had ventured into Nosedive’s room. It
couldn’t be…it was impossible for this to be it, snug in its frame, completely
restored. But he…didn’t he break it?
Thunder rumbled
outside as pangs of hail befell heavily upon the house like hundreds of hockey
pucks slamming into Wildwing’s pads. Rapt, he was unable to tear away. His head
swayed back and forth in denial as his eyes drooped shut.
*CRASH*
*FLASH* A light engulfed the room!—
—Nosedive smirked
at Wildwing as they entered the house, looking from the empty living room to
the bare hardwood floors, whitewashed walls, and finally the staircase directly
in front of them. Elbowing his older brother in the thigh, the same height as
he, Nosedive spurted, “Race you for the big room.” He took off up the stairs.
Wildwing smiled,
following his baby brother up the flight of stairs. “Uh-huh! I get the big
room! You’re just a squirt!”
“No way! I’m
cuter! I deserve it!”
As Nosedive dove
into the first room, Wildwing grabbed his baby brother from behind, his little
stubby fingers drumming up and down under the smaller Featherburn’s arms. “Oh
yeah? You think so, huh?”
Nosedive burst
out laughing.—
—Wildwing choked
back the tears as the laughter drowned into his brother’s deathly scream.
“Stop…” He
pleaded, smashing his fist to the table. The picture rocked about its wooden
edges as Wildwing leaned over, before settling upon the surface once more. A
lone tear trickled from Wildwing’s beak and dripped onto glass—onto Nosedive’s
face. “Please…I can’t deal with this…”—
—“Yo, Wing! Where’re you going?” Nosedive called as he ran out of
the house, skates over his right shoulder, hockey equipment in the bag dangling
from his left. “Canard’s house is right next door. You don’t have to take your
jeep, bro.”
Switching the
jeep into reverse, Wildwing shook his head. “Nosedive, I’m not going to
Canard’s! I told you I have a date today! Go by yourself!”
“Then it’ll be
two forwards and no goalie. That isn’t much of a challenge, you know.”
Wildwing rolled
his eyes. “Dive, not now, okay?” He pushed on the gas pedal, the jeep jetting
backwards into the street. “I’ll play with you later.”
“That’s what you
said yesterday! And the day before that!” Nosedive shouted as he threw his
equipment at the jeep, the plastic pads clunking against the metal door. “She’s
controlling your life! Tell her to back off, huh? You’re my brother, not hers!”
“I’m her
boyfriend, Nosedive! There’s a difference!” The older brother scowled as he
sped around the equipment, almost running it over. “Look, I’ll talk to you
about this later.”
“Sure! Talk to me
about it later! Or tomorrow, or whenever you decide to make time for me because
I’m just your brother, not your girlfriend! But, hey, by then I might have all
ready bonded completely with Canard and adopted him as my older brother, so I
won’t have time for you!” Nosedive grumbled as he turned around and stomped
toward the house. “ ‘Go by yourself,’ ” he mocked and stepped onto the porch. “
‘He’ll play with you now because I can’t socialize or even acknowledge, or God
forbid ever be around my little brother anymore. My girlfriend just might freak
if I even have a life and a family outside of her. She’s my whole reason for
living.’ ”
The jeep’s engine
died, and the door opened with a click. “You went a little too far there.”
Wildwing replied flatly, walking about the back of the jeep and saving
Nosedive’s equipment from possible road terrorists.
“No,” Nosedive
scoffed and fell cross-legged to the patio. “You just said that you couldn’t be
bothered with me anymore.”
“I didn’t say
that,” Wildwing defended indignantly and sat down next to his little brother,
laying a hand on Nosedive’s knee. “I meant that she’s important to me, too;
that’s all. Not my whole reason for living.”
Crinkling his
beak and glowering at the powdery snow, Nosedive snapped, “Then why don’t I see
you anymore?”
“We see each
other; it’s just…”
“You spend
Fridays with her, Saturdays and Sundays and school days…so where does that
leave me?”
Wildwing sighed
and rubbed the back of his neck. A smug smile curled onto his beak as he
touched the bottom of Nosedive’s beak and lifted the boy’s head to meet the
tear-stained eyes. “It leaves me with hockey equipment to get and a girlfriend
to call, okay?”
“You mean it?”
Nosedive’s face immediately lit up.
Wildwing blew up
his bangs. “Yeah, well, it seems she’s been too overbearing, so I guess she’ll
just have to deal with one or twelve stood-up dates.”
Nosedive dove
into awaiting Wildwing’s arms and reveled in the warmth and comfort of their
presence. “Thanks, big bro!”
Hesitating for a
moment, Wildwing pulled back from the hug to glare into his brother’s eyes,
though didn’t let go. “Hey, Dive?”
“Yeah?”
Pushing back the
stubborn bangs, Wildwing resigned, “Never thank me for spending time with you,
baby bro.”—
— “NO!” Wildwing
backhanded the picture frame. Smashing against the wall, the glass and metal
clattered to the floor. “STOP IT! I don’t want to remember!”
The thunder
clashed outside, the sound waves rattling the kitchen windows. The lightning
flickered as Wildwing shunned away from the broken frame, his body casting a
shadow against the floor. His knees buckled underneath him, and he collapsed
unkindly to the tiles. Breathless, he gripped his hands in fists until his
anger subsided to trembling sobs, his hands sinking to his thighs, palms
revealed upward. “Please…don’t do this to me…I can’t…You’re—you’re gone…” The last word dispelled from his
heart, he let the sobs consume him as he fathomed that which was
unconscionable, the one thing that he had never experienced—the end of hope.
Nosedive was
dead, and nothing he could do would change that. He would never…ever…
Tears flowed from
his eyes, down his flushed face as the sobs consumed his trembling body, and he
was helpless against the onslaught of memories…
*GASP*
Nosedive’s eyes,
rapid and frantic, implored toward Wildwing, begging him for comfort,
reassurance—that which Wildwing could not give as the Aerowing rocked toward
the ground. For, in front of his own eyes flashed his life.
A little
peach-feather duckling lied in his arms, cooing happily and smiling upward at
Wildwing…a slightly older Nosedive wavered unsurely on new blades, trying his
best to stay upon the ice. “Lookie, Wing!” He called to his delight. “I made
it! I made it across the pond!”…Nosedive scampered across the courtyard at Junior
High, as four leather-clad bullies raced after him. Abruptly, his five books
jumbled in his arms spewed onto the ice as the bullies neared. … His blonde
hair cut to his beak, Nosedive resembled a member of the Beatles. “Do I have
wear this?” He whined toward his father. Dad Featherburn glowered down at him.
“Did you have to flood the North Wing of your school?”… Walking inside the
pizza parlor, Wildwing laid down two twenty-dollar bills. “A pie for
Featherburn.” As Nosedive turned around behind the counter and saw the two
bills, his mouth curled into a mischievous smirk, his hands on his hips. “Why
so cheap? Last week there were three.” …His eyes danced over the new imports
from the
The air thinned
as the blaring of the alarm infiltrated the Aerowing, but they weren’t
crashing, were they?
*GASP*
He looked from
Tanya to Duke to Grin to…Mallory was missing; a cloud of thick, black smoke
infiltrated where she had stood. Cocking his neck to see the other—they all
were missing, replaced by a wall of flames! He shunned away as sweat formed on
his brow. A piercing pain stabbed into his stomach. He screamed out for his
teammates as he fought against his invisible restraint.
No one answered.
A fierce gush of
air slammed his body against the metal behind him. Wincing, he grit his teeth
as he opened his eyes. His hands curled around his confinement, his own pilot’s
chair. Wind pounded his body; heat burned his pants, then his leg feathers as
the fire spread to his part of the ship.
*GASP*
His eyes darted
back and forth searching for his teammates. Where were they?! Where was his
brother?!
A bloodcurdling scream!
“NOSEDIVE!” He
called madly as he whirled toward the scream, the lightning flashing through
the kitchen. He gasped as he blinked, tears waving from his eyes. He wasn’t on
the Aerowing, Nosedive was no longer calling for him, yet his body shuddered
violently, the image impressed in this mind, the scream echoing ethereally in
his ears. He whimpered as it increased, sending convulsions through his nerves.
It wouldn’t end,
as much as he wanted it to, as he willed it to. It just resonated, over and
over, and over!
“STOP IT!” He
screamed, knotting his fists in his hair, his body jutting heavenward in
vehement desperation. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”
Wiping the sweat
from his forehead, Wildwing heaved up and down, unable to catch his breath. The
scream…he needed an outlet…something…anything…he
needed it to stop!
Timidly, his legs
straightened, his eyes fixated on the one mean of escape. His hands shook
violently as tried to hold on his last shred of sanity. He reached for the
refrigerator door. There was no turning back now, he told himself. He needed to
relax, to unwind, to stop that damn
scream!
Gripping the
handle—it was cold to the touch. A small smile peeked itself onto his corner
beak as he peered inside the refrigerator. On the top level sat a bottle of
beer. He had never needed it nor wanted to drink before, but now… it was going
to feel good.
His hand enclosed
upon the can—
The wind tore
through the backdoor, slamming it against the wall. Wildwing jumped and reeled
around, his eyes wide from the excitement, his nerves on edge. The hail
clattered against the tiles of the floor. The thunder boomed against the door
of the house. The lightning flashed in the dark of the night, illuminating
Wildwing’s body. A howling, chilling wind raged into the room, blowing open and
banging shut the cabinets, tossing the china from the strainer and crashing it
to the ground, bristling along the tiles, picking up the shreds of glass and
frame, before swirling about Wildwing, under his arms, about his waist, a
shrilling dirge baring in his ears. The thunder roared outside; the lightning
crashed, and in the bright, divine light, he felt the presence once more.
The scream silenced.
A calming still
enveloped around him as the light faded and his world remained.
The thunder was
no more, while the hail bombarded the doorway—nothing. The lightning flashed
outside, but no clash followed. The only noise he could hear—his breathing,
evenly, in and out…in and out…but he could no longer hear the scream.
The hair on his
neck prickled. The presence! He whirled around toward the sink—
—where stood
Nosedive.
His baby brother
leaned against the sink, a somber smile contorting his beak. Different than
Wildwing had last seen him, he was no longer bloody, no longer pleading.
Wearing his usual teal tee-shirt, navy overcoat, and denim jeans, Nosedive
resembled the rebellious teenager he was—used to be. His peach feathers, a
flaming orange, were more vibrant than Wildwing had ever seen them, while his
golden hair swayed slowly in the wind. His bangs accented the piercing, intense
azure eyes, ethereal almost, that bore through Wildwing.
Gasping, Wildwing
clenched his shirt over his chest. His baby brother was alive? It couldn’t be Nosedive…it just couldn’t be…Painstakingly,
he stepped forward, inching his way toward the person he never thought he’d see
again, hear again, hold again. He reached out a hand to the being who looked so
much like the person he wanted it to be, who his heart told him it was, but
that he just couldn’t…
“No…” He
strained, his voice raucous. “You’re…you’re
dead!” The words choked from his beak.
Nosedive’s eyes
continued to blaze in the darkened kitchen, only slightly brighter than that of
the flickering lightning. He didn’t move. His focus didn’t waver. He stared at Wildwing, never breaking eye
contact.
Neither dared
Wildwing. The thought that his brother might disappear was too real. He
couldn’t lose him again. But…was he actually here, or was this, too,
hallucination?
Inching timidly,
head lowered to his little brother’s height, Wildwing implored softly, “Nosedive?”
Concern flashed
through Nosedive’s eyes as the little brother extended one arm, his index
finger pointing directly to Wildwing’s face, then lingering a few inches
below—pointing to his heart.
Glancing down,
Wildwing picked up his head. “I—I don’t understand.” He stammered, his eyes
pleading to his baby brother. “What do you want from me?”
His arm dropped
as Nosedive smiled longingly. He shook his head facetiously, before once more
meeting Wildwing’s eyes with his passionate ones.
“To live.”
The lightning
crashed, the noise exploding within Wildwing’s ears. He clutched the sides of
his head as pain writhed through it. He hissed as the alarm blared, the wind
howled, and the thunder resounded. The hail once more clattered the tiles, as
the noise subsided. He whirled toward the sink—
—and Nosedive was
gone.—
— “Wildwing?”
Canard called as he walked from the living into the hallway. “I know you wanted
to be alone, but…” He stepped inside the kitchen and halted.
The cabinet doors
were blown open, while broken china littered the floor. The refrigerator door
remained ajar, a solitary can of beer smashed on the floor. The backdoor
creaked from the rumbling thunder and the howling wind that roared from
outside.
Canard raced to
the door, hanging his body outward into the roaring storm, but he was too late.
Wildwing was
gone.—
All of me…
— Shielding his
face from the chastising hail, Wildwing skated furiously down
Halting at the
towering construct, the building shielded him from the hail, though he still
blinked rapidly at the harden rain showering the iced pavement. A shadow cast
over him as the lightning flashed, illuminating the stained glass with colored
excellence.
For a moment, he
closed his eyes, the lightning crackling in his ears. The wind raged about his
body, chilling, yet urging him to go forward—the guidance he needed to
continue. His hands hung limply at his side until slowly his fingers rolled
into fists, and he pushed off his left skate. He left the safety of the cover
and entered defenselessly against the raging storm.
Under the
slashing letters spelling “DuCaine’s Salvation,” Wildwing sunk to the ground,
his skates vanishing in a flash of emerald. Hesitantly, he staggered into the cemetery,
mud and remnants of snow splashing onto his white boots. Squinted eyes searched
for a particular sight.
*CRASH* *FLASH*
In the crash of
lightning, his entire body lost feeling. Completely numb, he felt a tingling
dance on the tips of his fingers, then seep up his hands and wash over his
body. His eyes glistened against the depression of hail, focused, fixated upon
the dark, oblong vessel that lay across the four pillars holding it above the
resignation.
I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that you’re
gone…
“Why are you
doing this to me?!” Wildwing raged, a burning sensation eating away at his
soul. Eyes blazing, he lifted his fisted forearm to the sky, an opposite finger
pointing directly at the curtained chasm. “What do you want from me?! You want
me to go on with life like you never existed? You want me to forget the
seventeen and a half years that you were living and act like it has had no
impact upon me whatsoever?” He clenched his teeth against the resurgent
memories, his eyes brimming with tears. “What gives you the right to tell me
what to do, huh? You—you’re dead!
You’re the one who chose to leave, not me! You chose to die rather than to stay
here, and you have the right to tell me what to do with my life now?! Bullshit! I can’t, I won’t live like you were never here!
Don’t you realize how much you mean to me? Don’t you realize that I lived for
two months after the invasion thinking you were dead, living like a zombie,
trying my best to keep a minute shimmer of hope alive? Do you realize that this
is even worse?” Suddenly, the anger
in his voice dissipated. All that was left was strained hysteria and absolute
misery.
“There is no hope
anymore, baby brother! You’re not coming back, no matter what I do. I can’t
search for you and find you like I always have. There’s only a bloodied path of
reminiscence that leads me directly here, Dive…
“…to your grave.”
His fists shaking
in front of him, he murmured brokenly, “And where does that leave me?”
Gutted sobs
choked from his beak as he edged toward the final resting place of his beloved
baby brother; trembling hands reached out to touch the…the…Wildwing gasped, as a flash of lightning glimmered off the
coffin. Quavering eyes pored over it. Divine white, the coffin was the same
color of the chest plate on Nosedive’s uniform. He inched closer, his eyes
darting to the glittering teal and gold strips that twirled around themselves
along the edge of the coffins, encompassing the entire opening. His hands
inches above the cover, he noticed with alarm the insignia of the Mighty Ducks
in gold, while a silver inscription embedded underneath read, “Saved the
universe, one planet at a time.”
His soaked bangs
flat against his forehead swished in front of his eyes. The chilling wind
whirled about his body as he sniffled, unable to compose himself in the wake of
it.
“I heard you die,” Wildwing breathed. “I saw you,
and…and there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t save you, baby brother. I
couldn’t save you.”
A whisper
followed the resonance, almost dying in the rumbling breeze, “You have no idea
what the last three months have been like. My whole life I’ve been trying to
avoid this…and we had just been reunited, and I refused to go without you. If I
would have listened to Canard and left you on Puckworld, you would have never
been on Earth, fighting Dragaunus. You would have never been on the Aerowing
that day. It…I—it… is because of me that you… ” He shunned away, unable to look
at the coffin. “I tried…I tried so hard never to lose you, and in the end, it’s
because of that effort that you’re gone.”
“And I just don’t
know how to go on,” he continued solemnly, his voice cracking. “I don’t know
how to just pick up and live, to let this go. How can I? How can anyone accept
that he/she will never see his/her loved ones again? Never hold them, never
talk to them, never be able to even sit and feel their comforting weight and
reassuring presence next to him. How can
I move on when I lay in bed at night and stare at your bedroom door, knowing
that you used to sleep right across the hall? How can I live knowing that you
will never be there again or never hear you say, “ ‘Night bro!’ ?” How, Dive? Tell me how to accept this.
Tell me how the world keeps going even though my little brother’s dead!”
He blinked at the
beseeching tone rising in his voice and the tears rose once more in his icy
eyes. Swallowing the saliva that had
suddenly flooded his beak, he found himself pleading, “Tell me how to forgive you for leaving.”
Furious wind
burned his body, swooshing and swishing through the trees, raging the traces of
snow about his body. He looked to the sky as the lightning crackled across the
stone-curved clouds. “We made it through the invasion together. We survived
Earth, didn’t we? Dragaunus couldn’t even tear us apart, and now that we’ve
made it back to Puckworld, you’ve decided to quit?!
“I refuse to live
life without you, Nosedive,” his voice raised octaves as his eyes glistened
with tears, yet burned a radiant cobalt. “If these three months have proven,
it’s that you’re still here, and I won’t let you go, not like this! This isn’t
over! You want to leave?! Well, you should have left when you had the chance
because I’m not letting you go that easy! You’ve stayed here, haunted me, drove
me practically insane thinking I was seeing you alive. You wanna know what? As
crazy as I maybe, as crazy as I might have become, I still know my little
brother, and you won’t leave until I concede, until I give up, until I dismiss
you. You need my approval to finally rest in peace?
“Well, damnit, I’m not giving it! You left me
here! You decided to leave! You chose to give up! If there is one thing that I
ever taught you was that there is always a way to win! There is always another
alternative! When ice came to freeze, you took the easy way to out, and I won’t
accept that.
“Listen to me,
Dive, and listen well. You are the most important person to me.
You taught me how to be stubborn. You taught me not accept what life has given
me and to demand more. I believed you would always be the last one to say
‘die,’ and when it comes down to it, you were the first. That ends now.
“Do you hear me?!
I won’t accept what you’ve done! I won’t accept this resignation that you were
handed me! You will not give up!
“I WILL NOT SAY GOOD-BYE!”
The rolling
thunder boomed above him.
“I WILL NOT LET
YOU GO!”
The lightning
brightened the navy-onyx sky.
“YOU WANT TO REST
IN PEACE, THEN IT’S TIME I FOUND MY PEACE! I WILL NOT BE LEFT BEHIND! I WILL
NOT BE ALONE!”
The hail slammed
from the gray tracing clouds, clamoring against the coffin, echoing deathly in
this ears.
The howling wind
brazed against his exposed feathers, as he focused callously to the casket. His
breath ragged, his fingers clutched its cold-metal cover with a deep inhale of
the chilling air.
“DO YOU HEAR
ME?!”
He tore open the
coffin.
“NOSEDIVE!”—
And though you’re still with me…
His lifeless body
heaved upward by his chest, breath bursting once more in and out of his lungs.
An intravenous line snagged his arm, almost tearing the skin on his arm, while
a plastic tube clogged his throat. He hacked, blood and saliva bubbling from
his beak. Coughing uncontrollably, he ripped the constriction out of his beak
and inhaled the fresh, Puckworld air. Exhausted beyond anything he had ever felt
before, the short, ragged blonde-haired teen blinked at the bright light
overhead and winced as pain writhed his back, his left arm, his head…
Carefully turning
his head toward the window, he peered out terribly worried, his eyes searching.
“Wildwing?”—
I’ve been alone all along…
—The heat! It
flustered against his cheek, burned against his legs; orange and crimson flames
danced about his body. Collapsing to the floor, Wildwing clutched his little
legs with his hands, weeping into the knees. Suddenly, two strong, comforting
arms wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him closer to her body. Wildwing
whimpered as he huddled against the person, choked sobs hiccupping from his
terror.
“Shhh!” The
female soothed, swirling back his short hair with her consoling hand. “It’s
okay. Mommy’s here for you, darling. Nothing’s going to hurt you now.”
“No!” Wildwing
cried into his Mommy’s nightgown. “Nosedive’s dead! I couldn’t save him!” He
beseeched up to her soft blue eyes. “The fire! It—It—”
“I don’t
understand, sweetie.” Momma Featherburn said, her voice soft and calm. She
smiled quizzically down at her five-year-old son, his face flushed red, tears
trickling from his lively eyes. “There’s
no fire, and who’s Nosedive?”
Wildwing
hesitantly looked toward the crib, his face scrunched with apprehensive. There
stood his father, dressed in teal sweatpants and a gray tee-shirt, rocking his
baby brother back and forth in his arms.
“You okay,
kiddo?”
The baby’s coo
bubbled with contentment.
His eyes widened,
as he touched his little pink forefinger, eyes taking in the whole room. “The
burning,” he whispered, then cradling his arms as Wilder carefully placed the
baby in Wildwing’s arms. The older brother smiled as the baby curled its hand
about Wildwing’s fingers, blubbering and sputtering salvia as he exclaimed with
bliss. “You’re safe now, Nosedive. The burning’s gone.” —
When you cried, I’d wipe away all of your
tears.
—Hysterical, gutted laughter choked from
Wildwing’s beak as tears formed in his eyes, the irises darting back and forth.
He staggered forward, his finger tips brushing against the dripping metal to
the soft, teal velvet and finally over the bottom cloth. The tears trickled
down his face, dripping off his beak. A soft smile slowly crept onto it, as relieved
sighs formed powdery clouds in front of his face. He couldn’t help as his
stomach fluttered with desperate gaiety. An execrating feeling rushed over him
as his frantic eyes took in the realization, his muscles sore—strained,
exhausted, relieved.
His breath
suddenly depleted, each inhale of air failing to fill his lungs. He clutched the side of the coffin as his
knees buckled underneath him. His body limp but for his arms, holding him just
above the opening, he gaped incredulously into the vessel, unable to comprehend
what he was seeing, for what he was a witness. He hadn’t dared to see his
brother before, and now…now he knew why.
Nosedive’s body
wasn’t here.
A stifled scream,
barely audible above the wafting wind that tussled his hair, broke the sudden
silence of night.
“You’re alive…”—
When you screamed, I’d fight away all of
your fears.
—“Wildwing!”
Canard yelped as jumped from the couch and darted across the living room.
Quickly sweeping his best friend into an embrace, he spurted, “God, I was so
worried! When you—”
“Yeah, what was
the big deal?” Duke fumed behind Canard, crossing his arms stringently in the
doorway. “You just took off like—”
Mallory was only
a few seconds behind him. “You could’ve been killed in the storm. Worse one—”
Her words were lost to Wildwing as she took off his wet jacket and rang it out.
“You’re going to
catch a—” Tanya placed her hand on his forehead, shaking her head at the warm
temperature. “We need to get you—”
Taking a deep
breath, Wildwing watched, a small smirk creeping onto his beak. He realized
now, as the four of them—Canard, Duke, Tanya, and Mallory—swooped about him,
each demanding answers, while voicing their concern, what Nosedive had meant.
His little brother hadn’t left all alone. All he had to do was open his eyes.
“And did you—”
“—listen to
Canard’s conniption—”
“—which could
have gotten you killed!—”
Shaking his head
slightly, Wildwing felt overwhelming blessed. This wasn’t a one person fight,
as it never was. He needn’t make it one now.
They were friends, family, he
dared say, and they were here for him—always.
Over their heads,
stood the passive Grin, his eyes a soft honey. He nodded once to Wildwing as
his voice rumbled, “Did you find your peace?”
Wildwing met his
gaze with a simple nod in return before elaborating, “They never truly leave.”
*Thwack!*
“Ow…” Rubbing his
head, Wildwing whined, “What did you do that for?”
“For acting like
your brother!” Mallory growled, but the vitality lost to strained voice. “What
were you thinking going out into that storm? We already lost one member. Wildwing… we don’t want to bury two.”
Smiling slightly,
Wildwing placed a hand on her shoulder and stared into her eyes, the royal color and playful mirth returning
to his. “It was empty, Mallory. The coffin
was empty.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she stared
at him, mystified. He turned to the others, their eyes wide, their faces caught
with rapt attention.
“Wha…?” Canard
sputtered, his voice trailing on as his face crinkled in confusion. “That—that’s
just not possible!”
“It can’t be
empty!” Tanya dismissed, her voice high-pitched. “Puckworld tradition states
that if the body isn’t in the casket for at least twenty-four hours prior to
burial, the spirit isn’t released to Heaven!”
“Nosedive has to
be there! Where else would he be?” Duke scoffed, before stopping suddenly, his
eyes increasingly brightening. He cocked his head to side, his cheek feathers
rosining. “Unless…”
“They never truly
leave,” Grin proclaimed truthfully.
A relieved smile
grew upon Wildwing’s face as he gazed at Grin. The others’ head perked upward,
each gradually creeping into a smile. Tears slowly trickled down Tanya’s face,
her hands folded over her chest. “Thank God,” she murmured.
Duke chuckled out
loud, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “That’s the kid for ya. Just when
you think he’d lost, he just proves ya all wrong.”
Abruptly, Mallory
swept her hand across her face and fled from the room, a straggled squeal
sounding behind her.
Canard thumbed
after her. “What’s with her?”
“Ah, that girl
hasn’t been right since we returned. Maybe she’s pregnant,” Duke off-handed.
Tanya swatted him
on the shoulder. “Duke!” She chastised, before following Mallory’s exit.
“Wha? She could
be! Or maybe she had too much to drink!”
Canard shook his
head and guided Duke and Grin into the kitchen to rejoice. Wildwing laagered
behind, rising his eyes toward the ceiling with a soft smirk. “You have fun
doing this to me, don’t you?”
A flicker of
light danced across his eyes from the living room, grabbing his attention.
“Wildwing,”
Canard called, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. “You coming?”
Wildwing waved
absently. “In a minute!”
Meandering into
the living room, Wildwing squinted and followed the shimmering light to the endtable.
There, the light dimmed, and Wildwing gasped, enthralled. Fully restored,
picture frame and glass, sat the picture of he and Dive, smiling on Earth.
Shaking his head, he huffed with a chuckle and lifted the picture. They had
been through a lot together, first the divorce, Draco, the invasion, even
Earth. This, Wildwing could handle.
He smiled, the
first genuine rapt affection he had had felt in three months. “You are a piece
of work, little brother. A piece of work.”
And for the first
time in three months, Wildwing sighed, his chest not so heavy, the air not so
thick.—
I held your hand through all of these
years,
“ ‘Where were you
when you found out about the invasion?’ ” Sighing deeply, Wildwing let out his
breath gradually and overlooked the thousands of Puckworlders who had made the
pilgrimage to the Capital Metropolis, District of DuCaine to see him and his
team. So many had come just to see him talk and to honor the Mighty Ducks for
what they had done for Puckworld. They crammed into the Center Ice and filtered
back in the Metro’s streets.
“I was at
school.” He answered truthfully, a brief chuckle sounding from his beak, as he
raised his head. His voice was light, yet masked, broken. “I was working on my
research paper on harnessing quantum energy and how it could be implemented
with Puckworld’s current quasar power, yet I was unable to concentrate. My mind
was distracted by my little brother. Nosedive was supposed to pick up the
birthday cake for my best friend’s surprise party. I realized Nosedive, alone, with a cake, was not my brightest
idea. So, I abandoned my paper and went to order another cake…when I saw it.”
He paused, swallowing hard to maintain his composure. However, his voice
betrayed him. “I had just walked out the North End of the Senior Secondary Wing
and into the courtyard when I saw Larken. Eyes fixated into the sky, mouth
gaping…yeah, that was mainly Larken, but his shivering gasp sent me a red flag.
I asked him what was wrong, but he couldn’t answer. He could only stare into
sky. I followed his gaze and squinted to make out this little black and red dot
that obscured the sky. I…I didn’t know what it was, but…” His forehead
scrunched, and his eyes focused overhead, distant and absent. His heart beat
faster; his stomach filled with dread. Blood rushed to his face, as its heat
intensified. The people were gone. The buildings and stage faded…leaving him in
the middle of DuCaine Senior Secondary Wing courtyard. “I—I saw it. In front of
my eyes I saw it, flashing like faded memories, long forgotten. The explosions,
the destruction, the pain…I saw my father, my mother holding my little brother,
running from the explosions…I saw the Saurians, blasting our people from
monitor towers, massacring…” His voice trailed on, as he shook his head curtly,
as to rid himself of the memories. When he raised his head, his eyes burned
azure. “I saw the Mask.”
He turned to his
team, his eyes firm upon the person directly behind him. His hands behind his
back, legs shoulder width apart, ever the military recruit, Canard was. A brief
chuckle under his breath, Wildwing took note of the military uniform his best
friend wore. It wasn’t always that way, though.
Wildwing could still see, vividly, the casual attire Canard wore that day, simple navy vest and pants,
tan undershirt—the normal dress of a senior at their school. Canard was
different now, more rugged, more hoarse, yet a small smile curled onto
Wildwing’s beak. He knew that his best
friend would always be there for him, as he was in the past few weeks. The war
hadn’t changed Canard Bronzeplume that much.
Canard caught his gaze and nod abruptly. A smile formed on his beak, as
well. There was nothing but admiration between them, a respect undefined.
Wildwing succeeded Canard as leader, and Canard supported him absolutely.
Wildwing turned
back to the audience, a new vigor in his words. “I didn’t know it at the time,
but it was density to lead the people in front of you into battle. A simple
twenty-year-old boy,” He huffed, not exactly understanding Fate either. “I…I
hadn’t even decided what to do with my life, let alone become a revolutionary.
I guess Fate doesn’t care. It has its own agenda, as it did with me, with the
planet…with the Saurians…
“They had
arrived, and it happened, just like it had hundreds of years ago. And just like
that, I saw this ripple next to the first craft, distorting the clouds and calm
blue sky. They were here to take over again, and there was nothing I could do
to stop them. There was nothing anyone could do to stop them. When they
uncloaked, they attacked, callously and mercilessly.
“We will never
forget what occurred that day. We will not forget the violence and death they
brought to our peaceful planet. We will
never forgot those who we lost.”
Pause.
Wildwing opened
his beak to speak, but nothing followed. It was hard to put into words what had
happened, what he was feeling. His
eyesight lingered slightly to the left of Grin, where Wildwing’s father stood.
Wilder Featherburn wore the official garb of a Puckworld military general—gray
pants and a buttoned teal overcoat, though his maroon undershirt could be seen
where the buttons stopped and the jacket opened to the collar. Wildwing
blinked, realizing just how much his father looked nothing like his brother.
Nosedive had taken after their mother, Winter Featherburn, who stood to the
right of Wilder, her glistening blonde hair waving slightly in the wind. Her
cold blue eyes were focused, determined, yet shadowed by the tears that brimmed
her eyelids. She wore a Mighty Ducks
jersey, a little big for her delicate frame, over her teal skirt. On the
shoulders were stamped the number thirty-three, his brother’s number.
His voice fell to
a whisper, as the emotions swelled in his chest. Murmurs slipped through his
beak, spilling gutted cries into the
audience. “My brother, like so many, fell victim to the Saurians. He was the
last causality of the war, killed in the explosion of our Aerowing after we
returned to Puckworld. All he wanted was to live free from the Saurians, to be
back home, and he had just achieved it when…when…
“W—we were split
after the invasion hit. Four months later when we finally found each other, he
asked how this could happen. How could the Saurians have so much hatred for us,
be so evil to destroy a whole population? How could God allow it happen? Why
couldn’t anyone stop it?
“I didn’t have an
answer for him. Even now, I don’t because I asked the same thing these past few
months. How could God allow this to happen? Why did God take my little brother?”
An captivated
silence descended upon the millions as Wildwing wiped his face and sniffled,
breathing deeply in and out. He finally appealed to the people with tired,
painful eyes, pleading for some relief. “What I didn’t realize,” he continued,
demoralized, “was that with every victory, there is sacrifice. There is
bloodshed. Freedom isn’t free. The price we pay …it’s in blood. The blood of our people, the blood of our friends, the blood
of our families. There is nothing
harder to accept than the resignation in the eyes of the person whom you love
the most and know that there is nothing you can do to save him…that no matter
what, it is destined to occur… He is destined to die.
“How do you cope?
How do you move on?”
He sighed deeply,
his beak still gaping. He struggled with the words as he slowly shook his head.
“You don’t…” A
whisper resonated upon the Puckworlders, touching each one. Sobs choked from
the audience. Tears glistened from people’s eyes.
“You never move
on. How can you? I—I saw my little
brother die... and I kept seeing him, hearing him. I couldn’t accept the fact
that he left because…God, they never leave. They live on in us. They live on in
our memories, our hearts.
“And they live on
in Puckworld. We owe it to them for this invasion not become myth. We owe it to
them that their lives, their deaths,
be not for nothing. We cannot allow another Saurian to step foot on this soil,
to destroy another Puckworld innocent…to kill one more child…
“…which is why
today, I will enroll in the Legion’s
He breathed in
slowly, the wind whistling softly about his body.
“We have a common
bond. Not our race, not our planet…emotionally, now. All of us here today were
touched by the Saurians, the slaughter of our people. All of us hurt, a wound
time cannot even weather. That pain…it get easier, maybe even familiar, but it
will never cease.
“ It never ever
cease until we’ve reclaim those whom we lost….
“Until we find
our peace…
“…and hope in the
interim those we lost have found theirs.”
But you
still have…
A daystar hung
limply upon the horizon, its light frayed into hues of rose, orange, and
yellow. Its stubborn light still shone
upon those who were left at the grave sight, who had yet to say good-bye.
Together, they had decided to go through with the funeral, albeit a few days
later. It was evident after General
Featherburn’s investigation that something was amiss. The body that had
identified by Dad and Momma Feathberburn was no where to be found. Nosedive’s
records in the Resistance had mysteriously vanished, as did any of his
government records and schooling. The only thing that proved of Nosedive
Featherburn’s existence in the government’s eyes was a death certificate, which
left only one thing…
…a path for
Wildwing to follow.
—*GASP*—
Void of the black
tie and jacket, Wildwing stood in front of the casket, his white undershirt
unbuttoned about the collar, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The wafting
wind wisped through his hair playfully as his eyes stared down upon the coffin.
The golden Mask engraved upon the coffin’s cover flickered in the dying light,
as the daystar bequeathed the sky to the nightstar. He sighed deeply, his eyes
drooping shut. His chest lethargically rose up and down, up and down.
With a grunt, he
lifted the casket’s cover, his tired eyes poring into the teal velvet. Bowing his head, he resigned softly, “I understand now. I…I—I’m sorry I made this
so hard. I’m sorry I was ignorant. I should realized that when you love
someone, it hurts. It hurts no matter what, and all I wanted was for the pain
to stop. I didn’t…I didn’t think of you or what you went through—were going
through. You were trying to tell me; you were trying to help me.
“You didn’t want
to go…
“…and you
couldn’t go...
“…without knowing
I could live without you.”
—*GASP*
The bloodcurdling scream!
His rapid eyes
ricocheted, widened with desperate fear.
“NOSEDIVE!” —
Empty, void of
feeling, the wind simply meandered lazily about his body, ruffling the
remaining snow from the empty branches.
“I’m sorry, but…I
can’t. I can’t live without you, and… now I know…
“…you couldn’t die without me.
“I won’t let it
end like this.” He promised, a new vigor edging into his gruff voice. His eyes
opened, a piercing, icy blue. “I will
search for you, and I will find you, no matter where you are.” He looked
heavenward into rosy-orange sky.
“I promise you
that, baby brother. We will together again…”
—Wildwing’s wide,
panic eyes met Nosedive’s, afraid and tear stained. His little brother’s
softened suddenly. Desperate realization flooded through Wildwing. He knew… —
—“Until then…” His
fingertips lightly brushed down the opening of the casket, his eyes glassed
over. “I will always remember you …and
know, I will always love you. Nothing—nothing
will ever change that.”
In one swift motion, the coffin was slammed shut, never to be opened
again. —
— *GASP*
The sounds rushed
into his ears—the blaring alarm, the howling wind, the screeching air wisping
pass the blown hole…
Wildwing
stretched his arm, grunting, blood expelling a gash on his forearm, the fire
surging about him…
He needed to hold
his baby brother…one last time…
The light
flickered from a shred of broken glass, drawing his attention.
His trembling eyes widened with horrid
realization.
It was too
late.
The Puckworld ice
glistened through the shattered windshield, welcoming them home.
*GASP*
All of me…
For the ending,
please read “Reclaimation” in “Fighting Change.”