Air Born | Generation Icarus #1

Miguel - Visitors

"Are you sure this will work?"

Tyler frowned, then shrugged. "No, but I'm not sure it won't, either." He jumped.

Frantically flapping his wings in the technique we'd developed the day before, Tyler jerkily hovered in mid-air. I held my breath as he began to drift outward, but the visible effort he was making to move forward wasn't working.

Then he looked down.

"Oh, damn!"

He faltered and began to drop, quickly stretching out his wings and gliding to the ground, landing roughly in a half-crouch.

I ran over. "That was so close that time!"

Tyler tried to stand up, his legs shaking, even though they'd been doing hardly any of the work. "The trick is to forget about gravity for long enough to let it forget about you." He grinned weakly. "I'm just not strong enough to fight it yet."

"I'm sure it's not a weakness factor, not anymore," I said, reluctantly. "It might still be the lack of surface area."

"How big do you think they're going to get?" Tyler spread out his wings and tried to look at them, but turned in a circle instead. He ran a still-trembling hand through his brown hair in bemusement. "They've got to be at least fourteen feet now, tip to tip."

I opened my mouth to reply but the words stuck to my throat as my ears suddenly turned on high alert. Tyler immediately saw my expression and froze.

"Can you hear that?" I hissed.

Tyler's wings sagged. "We have visitors." A large jumble of voices was rapidly approaching through the trees to the south.

"Run!" I said, already reaching for my jacket.

We dashed for the trees, dodging through the undergrowth to take cover behind a couple of rocks and some thick bushes. Still panting from his attempt at flight, Tyler slumped to the ground while I peered anxiously through the foliage.

"How many?" he asked.

"Shh," I said, flapping my hand at him.

The voices became distinguishable from each other just as the group burst into the clearing.

The man at the front of the pack waved his hands in excitement. "This is where I saw them yesterday!"

Tyler and I winced at the same time, and I silently cursed myself, shrinking further back behind the bush as I eyed the dozen men and women of all ages.

"I definitely heard beating wings! They were too loud and heavy for birds."

"Where did they go?"

"How many?"

"Only two or three."

"Enough." An older, male voice cut through the babble. "You'll scare them away."

Immediately they all shut up, moving back to reveal the tall, grey haired and bearded speaker.

"Friends, let us pray," the man said, authority vibrating in every word.

I tensed. Tyler rolled onto his knees and peered through the vegetation beside me.

The group quickly gathered in a loose circle around the leader, kneeling one by one with heads bowed. He remained standing, arms outstretched and his chest rising. Judging only by the hair and beard, he seemed quite old, but my magnified sight scanned a lightly tanned, strong-featured and barely-wrinkled face, turned up toward Heaven.

"Dear Lord," he began, "please bring the angel boy to us so that we may guide him from the wilderness, so that he may, in turn, guide us from the wilderness in our hearts and minds. We know that You have sent him to us for this purpose, and for that, we are grateful."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I had been waiting for a sign, for anything that might hint at God's plan for us. But I hadn't expected it to be quite so ... obvious.

If it were truly God's design that had brought the faithful there, then my whole entire life was about to change.

Again.

"Miguel?" Ty whispered, sounding worried.

My eyes never left the group of believers in the clearing.

The leader continued, appealing to the Lord in a way that suggested he had a lot of experience at it. I realised he must be a preacher or minister of some kind, and my heart filled with hope.

"We who have been struggling in the darkness saw the sign, and accept the trials that You have placed before us. We willingly sacrifice ourselves for Your purpose, to awaken the angels to their calling. Let them hear us, so that we may hear them. Let them approach us, so that we may approach them. Let them speak to us, so that we may speak to them. Let them learn of us, so that we may learn from them."

My hand crept to the cross around my throat.

I barely heard Tyler's urgent whisper. "Miguel? Miguel! Don't listen, they're religious nut jobs. It's probably a trick."

"They want to help us," I said faintly. "Perhaps they have been sent by God."

"Yeah, or maybe it's the marijuana talking. Don't they look like hippies to you?"

I glanced sideways at my friend. He was glaring furiously at the circle of faithful. Trying to understand what he was seeing, I did note that most of them were dressed in a rather mismatched selection of clothes. But then as I looked down at myself, I knew I could hardly criticize. Some people just had to make do with what they had.

And if God had called them suddenly, who would stop to think about what they were wearing?

Some of them joined hands and began to sway.

Reminded forcefully of the Masses I had attended with Abuelita, I felt a yearning so strong that I started to stand up.

Tyler lunged and grabbed my wing shoulder. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

"I'm just going to talk to them," I said, gently nudging his hand off me.

"Don't be an idiot, Miguel!"

I squatted and glared at him. "I might not have been in school for as long as you, Mr. Advanced Placement Cadet, but I'm not stupid."

His face twisted. "I'm sorry, Miguel, that's not what I meant."

I took a deep breath, and heard the continuing prayer of the people in the clearing. "Look, I get it. You're not religious." He opened his mouth but I forcefully carried on before he could speak. "But I am and I need to hear what they have to say. At least listen to them before you judge them?"

Tyler's jaw ground for a few moments as he chewed over his different responses. "I'll listen, but that doesn't mean I'll let them see me. It's too dangerous and besides, I have had enough of being stared at."

"Okay, I'll talk to them, and you can listen in."

I began moving forward, and after a moment, he followed, reluctantly creeping through the undergrowth. We were only a few feet from the open clearing when he grabbed my shoulder again and pointed.

"That bush. I'll keep an eye on things from there. I'll yell if I see anything dodgy going on, and you start running."

"All right, if that makes you feel better."

He let out a gusty breath. "Seriously, Miguel, be careful."

"I promise."

We crawled forward to the final layer of vegetation between us and the prayer circle, who were beginning a hymn, only a few dozen yards away in the grass.

Just before I revealed myself, I leaned close to Tyler's ear.

"If it's any consolation," I murmured, "Spanish and sleight-of-hand tricks weren't the only things I learned while living in Mexico City."

I smiled at him, then stood up.