Snippet #2104607

Euro

“The hospital seems like the best answer,” Great! So Taylor was on board. I nodded to her encouragingly. Power in numbers. Now all that was left was…

"Yeah I'll travel with you guys... Are you guys sure about the hospital? I mean... would doctors even know how we work? Honestly a vet would probably know more knowledge about a wing... And a hospital is a very, very public place... I'm just not so sure...But if you're certain it's best I'll follow..."

I frowned, feeling shame begin to fill up my system. Samuel was right. Besides the whole “we’re-screwing-ourselves-over-by-going-to-a-hospital” thing, it’s not like the doctors would have any idea how the girl, or for that matter, any of us worked. I mean, carrying her to the vet still gave us the chance to get our asses busted by the Ward or some other government facility, but hey, at least she’d survive. Hopefully. And here’s where I got stuck.

The hospital was a huge, open public facility, with freaky, annoying doctors, and obvious tattletales who’d have us busted with the government the instant we got there. I knew that for sure. That’s how ruthless intellectuals worked.

The local veterinarian on the other hand was generally concerned with dogs and cats. Ever wonder why there are stand alone Avian vets just dedicated to the health of birds? Never fear here’s your answer; as the majorities of pets consist of dogs and cats, people are bias to learning about cats and dogs. Even horses pass their lists. But guinea pigs, rats, birds, lizards, and many other “minority” pets fall into a different category. You’d need an animal hospital for that, and trust me when I say a vet’s clinic does not constitute the words animal hospital.

“That’s a good idea, Sam,” I was banking on the idea that he didn’t mind me calling him that, “But Avian vets and regular vets are two very different things.” I said softly, “If we….assume that just any vet will be able to handle her, we could be playing with fire. Not to mention the fact that a vet may not have what it takes to make a human blood transfusion. If I know anything about doctors, I know they’re intellectuals, kind of like lower level scientists. They’ll save her, if only to study her later on. We can almost bet on the fact that they’ll call up an Avian specialist to assist them if they have too….” I trailed off.

God, the girl was going to be hanging by a thread by the time we got there. She twitched in Matthew’s arms for a second, before going still again. I could hear her breathing steadily, which was a good sign, but the occasional twists of pain were a cause for concern.

“Can we hurry up with the decision making?” Matthew scowled, panicked concern scrawled across his face, “She’s going to go into a coma by the time you guys get moving.”

I rolled my eyes, but accepted his harsh words. He was simply concerned about his sister’s well being, and probably wasn’t thinking straight. Without a second thought, I slipped over to the closest car, a decent looking Honda Civic, probably of a generation older than 2012. I had one of two options:
1) Use some sort of pin to unlock the front door of the car
or
2) smash the window open.

Seeing as there was no pin, I went with option two. Using my shoe, I made a hole just big enough for my hand to fit through without scraping myself. The alarm, of course, was going crazy, and I had to work fast to unlock the door and rewire the underneath of the steering wheel so that the car would shut up. This had been me and Solo’s life when we’d first escaped. And while I was no pro, I most definitely knew what I was doing.

Which brought up another problem.

A very pressing, very heartbreaking, very traitor like problem.

I had to ditch those kids as soon as the girl was safe. Staying with them….was dragging me and Solo back to a life of misery. I would explain it to them. Explain why I was leaving. But for now, my concern was getting her safely to the hospital.

As the engine roared to life under the working of my hands I began barking orders. Unaccustomed to being in charge, my commands sounded more like solid requests rather than orders.

“Sam, you get in the front,” always safer to have someone besides yourself looking out for stuff in the front seat, “Taylor and Matthew you get in the back….Matthew support your sister’s weight. Try to keep her in an upright position so that the blood doesn’t flow faster towards her upper area and head..” Eyeing her blood soaked sweater, I came up with another quick idea, hoping Taylor would go along with it, “Taylor take her sweater and press it against the wound with enough force to slow the bleeding…”

Matthew, upon hearing my command, quickly slipped the bloody sweater off from his sister, revealing a simply black t-shirt, much less stained. He offered the sweater to Taylor with a pleading look on his face, and I hoped she would accept the job. The reason I’d chose her over Sam or Matt? Simple. She was a woman.

As I finished my tirade of commands, I slipped into the driver’s seat, patiently waiting for them to join me in the car.

Alice

I stared at the monitor indifferently as was my habitual response to anything that flickered on and off the hazy screen. I had been, naturally out of my own curiosity, observing the bird children, learning from their movements, but not necessarily understanding their interactions. The “Eins” as daddy referred to her was deathly frightened of everything, including her savior the “Marcus” who had rescued her from the clutches of a pair or so of Daddy’s Vampires. I couldn’t understand her, couldn’t understand her fear. If she’d been the stepping stone to the blossoming of my life, how was she so different from me?

If I had been there, I would have killed the Vampires and enslaved the boy.

It only made sense. One with such power should not wield it lightly. One with power must flaunt said power. One with power must become the dominant one.

That’s why I was Daddy’s heiress.

I was the powerful one.

“Alice,” Daddy’s voice was filled with kindness; fake kindness, but it was the only type I knew of. I wasn’t sure if to react brightly, or if to simply saunter over to him. In an attempt to please him, I skipped over to him as an average six year old would. Seeing as I was in the body of a six year old, I could only hope it would work. He ignored me.

Hope. Ha, what a joke.

Arriving by his spinning chair, I put a delicate hand on top of his. The chair seemed to float, as I could not make out what lifted it, and I assumed it worked on some sort of intensely concentrated vaporizing system. I could smell the water in the air, after all.

“Yes Daddy,” That was a default response. It was the obedience Daddy wanted, and it was the obedience he got.

“You’ll be leaving for Arizona today,” he said quietly, grazing his eyes over the gruesome scene one of our bird children had, had. She looked very similar to me, at least similar to me when I was an adolescent, but much more beat up with a grisly set of claw marks on the side of her wing, courtesy the Vampires.

I wasn’t sure if to call her a “poor thing” or if to think she deserved it. I wasn’t sure how Daddy wanted me to react.

“Yes, Daddy,” I said. What else was I suppose to say? What else did people say? He went on as though I’d asked a question about what I was to do once there,

“I may have a few Vampires waiting for you. They will guide you through the steps of integrating yourself into the human world.” My hear skipped a beat (I think that’s the expression).

Daddy was going to let me be with the humans. Daddy was setting me free on the world.