The Dome [O L D]

Chapter 6

Location: Former London, England-Dome 3

Subject: Ash Hise

Date: April

Jet black feathers grow from two three-foot-long pieces of flesh on my back. My hands reach up and stroke them gently. On the very tips of the outer feathers are specks of pristine white. Blood from their recent growth stains the wings. They feel... normal.

I look out the white-framed window.

Someone, probably a neighbor, stares in shock. His hands fly to his mouth when he sees my eyes trained on his. I bite my lip as my pupils lock onto the shiny, black phone in his white-knuckled hands.

He slowly punches in a number.

Nine. One. One.

I awaken to reality and turn on my heel. Running into the hall, I turn again and run outside.

I'm too late.

Lights flash blue and red, piercing the dark night. Policemen slam their car doors shut as they quickly run towards me. My feet tell me to run, and I speed across the lawn.

My breath comes in short gasps. My legs can run no longer.

I walk as quickly as I can into an alley, leaning against a hard wall. Terrified, I realize I left my wings visible during the chase.

Before I can react, I take in the sight of a long line of police vehicles speed across the road. None of them stop to check the alley that I'm in.

I take a few seconds to take inb the situation. Looking up, I see that the shimmering, translucent plates of metal that make up the dome are closer to the roofs of the buildings than at my father's home.

I'm nearing the edge. Almost there.

If I make it, I'll see it.

I'll see Outside.

I can't wait.

*-*-*-*-*-*

I duck under the yellow police tape surrounding our house. Father's corpse has been removed, and all that remains of his murder are the puddles of scarlet blood on the floor and counter.

After checking to see that no one's watching, I walk into the front door's empty frame. Why couldn't they have just used a crowbar?

On the other side, I stop in my tracks.

A body lies on the ground, eyes closed with fresh blood pooled around the corpse's shredded-up head. The former person wears a police uniform. A gun rests in a belt around his waist.

I close my eyes and reach down to pick up the gun.

Who killed the policeman?

Carefully, I step around the policeman's body and into the hallway, the gun in my hands shaking.

Another body in a police uniform is facedown, blood surrounding her neck, her long tresses splayed out around her head. She carries two full rolls of bullets on her, which isn't uncommon these days. I reach down and pull them off without closing my eyes. I loop them around me.

The crime has been up lately.

Is it because of people like me?

I feel a pair of hands grip my from behind, and I turn. My wings tremble from beneath my shirt.

A soldier from the United States of America is in this Dome.

Oh no. They know our weak spots now.

He's dressed in camouflage, and he has a few rolls of ammo around his shirt. Two handguns sit in holsters at his waist. He looks skin-and-bones, contrary to the popular rumor that all American soldiers are heavily muscled. His eyebrows are furrowed, as if studying me, and I see his eyes train on my back.

A hand shoves me into the wall. Pain explodes into my wings. I feel my shirt tear on my back. Cursing under my breath, I look up at him, jaw quivering defiantly. He glares at me with a smoldering gaze.

I look down and hear a snap as he slaps handcuffs onto my wrists.

My hands tremble as he leads me into a normal gray car.

He looks back at me from the front seat and states, "You're going to go somewhere new. Somewhere things like you belong. Somewhere you'll learn to fight in our army of things like you. You are an avian."

My hands reach up to fumble with a white-dotted feather. I gulp.