Featherbound

Chapter 5: Fragile, Pathetic Creatures

I blink through the black dots swarming my vision, trying my best to see if Gabriel is really crouched beside me or if he's a hallucination created by my head trauma. Donnie has already exited the ring to collect his winnings, so all eyes are on me now, on my hands and knees, looking up into the face of a secret angel.
"I said can you walk?" the annoyed angel whispers again, "You need to walk out of here or you'll look weak. I will not carry you." Gabriel's glacier blue eyes in front of me look bored. If my head didn't hurt so badly, I would roll my eyes.
'Please,' I think to myself, 'I wouldn't want you to carry me if both my legs were cut off.'
Instead, I merely nod as I climb to my feet, the world feeling wobbly beneath me. Looking down, I see blood splatters and smears across the floor of the ring. Is it Donnie's or mine? There sure is a lot of it.
"What's going on? Why are you here?" I can't help but ask as I turn to look around at the crowd. I spot Griffin amongst a group, trying to calm the anger of the betters he hustled. Donnie stands protectively behind him, making sure no one tries to start a fight with his boss. I notice again the handful of gray feathers Griffin is carrying before looking back at Gabriel.
"Let's go." Gabriel doesn't attempt to steady me or slow his pace for me to keep up in my injured state. I carefully wobble down the steps of the ring, watching the crowd part for us to get through. Even though my vision is edged in black, I hold my head up and try to appear less shaken than I actually am. I feel something drip down my face. Assuming it's sweat, I swipe it away only to pull back a blood covered hand. My shirt is soaked in the back and stuck to my skin. I'm sure its blood, too, and I probably look like an extra from a horror film at this point. Still, Gabriel hasn't looked twice at me.
In the back of the crowd, I spot the other fighters. I don't see Fiona or my one-eyed friend. Vomit burns my throat at the thought of leaving everyone behind to endure the torture of living and fighting on the compound. And the thought of Fiona dead, her body probably thrown haphazardly into a shallow grave in the woods somewhere. Tears prick my eyes, but I won't let them fall yet. Not yet.
'I'll come back for you all. I promise.'
I try to focus on the back of Gabriel as I follow him away from the crowd, and away from the compound. He's still wearing the blue flannel from the other day, and an old backpack still hides his dying wings. If I didn't already know, I wouldn't be able to tell he was an angel. Except for his unearthly beauty, that is. I cringe at the thought.
Once we are far enough into the woods, away from the nightmare that was my home for the last few days, I feel my adrenaline fading. I drop to my knees and vomit into the tall grass nearby. My back hurts, my face hurts, my arm hurts, my heart hurts.
I almost forget about Gabriel while I'm emptying my stomach bile until I hear him speak.
"You made it much farther than I thought you would," he admits, leaning his hip against a tree and crossing his arms, "You look like what I assume Hell looks like."
After my stomach is empty and the dry heaves stop, I look up at the angel, who is staring at me with his eyes glued to my chest. My feather. His feather.
"What, are you using that as a sick angel trophy?"
I blush and automatically grab the feather in my fist.
"No, of course not!" I tuck the feather back into my shirt. "I thought it could be my good luck charm." Gabriel stares at me, eyebrows knitted together in confusion before shrugging and pushing away from the tree.
"Doesn't appear to be working," he responds shortly, "Come on, we have a long way to go yet." I close my eyes and groan, curling up into the fetal position. The thought of just standing up makes me sick, let alone walking miles and miles.
"Where...?" I ask with a groan.
"I found a place in the woods to stay for a while. Can you really not walk?" The angel sounds annoyed, and a small part of me almost feels guilty for causing him so much trouble. Almost.
"Really, humans are such fragile, pathetic creatures." He grabs me by the back of my neck and hauls me to my feet.
"Hmm, seems roles were reversed not too long ago," I mutter as Gabriel throws one of my arms across his shoulders. He's so tall, my toes barely reach the ground this way. I feel my cheeks burn hot at our sudden closeness. Gabriel smells like cedar and lavender and the scent of wet earth and leaves.
"You are much too warm," Gabriel grumbles, as if reading my thoughts, "Carrying you is tiresome enough without your constantly increasing body heat."
"I have an infection, asshole!" I respond curtly, "Infections increase body temperature." Ignoring my outburst, the angel continues to half carry, half drag me through the woods. Despite his harsh words, he's careful to avoid brushy areas and steep hills. Whether it's to help me or help himself, I'm not sure.
What I do know, though, is that I'm growing weaker and weaker every passing minute. My injuries combined with my lack of food and water and worsening infection has sucked every drop of energy I have left.
"Why are you getting heavier?" The angel grunts as I close my eyes to the darkening skies.
"Did you just call me fat?" I whisper in a half assed attempt at lightening the mood. They are the same words Gabriel had spoke to me when I had saved him what feels like years ago. Unconsciousness takes hold of me, and the last thing I feel is the angel's hard arms holding me.