To Fly Or Not To Fly?

Chapter 4 - Hawks

When I awoke, it was dawn and the sun was beginning to appear. Everyone else was already awake and it was Max who had pulled me out of my sleep.

“We better get going before the hawks are set out.” Luke suggested.

By some silent agreement, we flew from the tree and across the purple-pink sky into the unknown. We flew on and on that day, not encountering any dangers. The second night, I rested the same as the first. The third day started the same as the previous as well and we flew. I began to think that this might be easier than I thought and we were all going to get through, and live.

I can’t believe how wrong I was.

 

*             *             *

It was half way between midday and sunset when the first tragedy happened.

We were tired and hungry and came to the ground to feed. When we were full, we set off again, slow from are filling meal.

Once we had reached a safe altitude, we flew straight, following our senses, smelling the air, feeling the wind and sensing are surroundings, heading towards home.

While I was flying I felt a tightening sensation, a tense feeling that something was dreadfully wrong, but I could not put my finger on what the problem was.

I looked at my friends, all was well with them. I heard a hunting cry from above me and looked up just in time to see the blurry outline of a hawk dive down from the heavens towards Lula. His prey was classic, the smallest and weakest of the flock. The next thing that happened came in a rush.

Harley dived in front of Lula, blocking the hawk’s path. The hawk redirected its attention towards Harley and embedded its talons in his soft underbelly. It bit him and blood oozed through Harley’s feathers.

After what felt like eons of watching but was probably a few seconds, the hawks released its grip and flew up. Instinct finally kicked in and we all raced to the nearest safe place, the ground. Harley more correctly fell to the ground, but managed to use his good wing to slow down and avoid a fatal impact.

We re-grouped on the ground and inspected Harley’s injures. Even though no one said it, we all knew the wounds were fatal.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go on.” Harley said, admitting to himself that death was imminent.

“You can go on, I know you can.” Lula replied encouragingly.

“I can’t. I’ll slow you down. I don’t have long to live.” Harley’s voice was barely a whisper.

“If you don’t go on, then neither do I.” declared Lula.

“No, I don’t want to condemn you.”

“You would do the same for me.”

“Please, go.”

“Never.” she looked back at us. “You, go. Get home. Live.”

“We will miss you.” Alisa replied.

“Actually,” Jacob interjected, “I’m not coming with you either.”

“What?” I gasped.

“I’m old; I don’t have much longer to live anyway. And maybe after all this, I can take Lula home, so it might not be goodbye for ever.”

It’s hard to leave them, but we eventually did and continued on out journey. That was the first time we lost friends, but it wasn’t the last.