The Alpha is still staring thoughtfully at his desk, so I rise, sensing the end to our conversation. I'm just turning to leave when he speaks abruptly, in a way that I think may have surprised him too.
"Thunderbirds, Tate. They're back."
I don't move for a second, recalling what I know of Thunderbirds. They're not good, that I'm sure of. I turn and sit back down, recounting chilling tales told to us by our elders. We don't associate many things with danger, but thunderbirds are far from a grey area.
"You're sure?" My mind is spinning, calculating the impact this may have.
"Unfortunately." He rubs long fingers on his temples.
"Tate it's been over fifty years since I last dealt with this race and I have been very comfortable since," he rubs at his moustache, "This is not something I would wish upon us, however it still seems to be something we can diffuse at the appropriate time."
I'm still trying to remember the stories.
"They're circling the area you looked at last night. It isn't yet clear if they're hunting, but..."
He heaves a sigh. Thud, thud. I hear muted voices.
"When are they not," I finish. My jaw has tightened. Though thunderbirds are legend to me, an era before my time, the stories are loud in our tribe. Stories of terror and mercilessness. The brutality of the human race is child's play in comparison. The disgust in The Alpha's agreement is evident.
"They have little other motivation to live."
He stands, moving away from his desk.
"I want to know what else lives in that house," he states plainly.
I stand also, understanding my point of leave. "You think they're hunting the house specifically? Why?" I want to laugh. The house is small and meaningless, home to a girl and perhaps her parents.
The Alpha cocks his head to one side. "There is nothing else there. Thunderbirds are remarkably intelligent for such creatures. They won't be focusing on that space without reason."
Hazed with confusion, I nod. It is impossible to me, that killers such as Thunderbirds would be even remotely interested in such a place, particularly such a human place. But they are not creatures to be underestimated and we must take them seriously.
"Go there, to the house," The Alpha instructs, motioning me to stand. "We will need information on the area. Take Scout with you. Take all precautions."
At this, I feel refreshed. Scout is my brother in many ways and the prospect of an outdoor mission with him makes me gleeful.
"I'll report back tomorrow," I say.
"First thing," he says. "Thunderbirds are unpredictable and I would like to know what they're wanting."
He taps at his desk absentmindedly. And then, "get out."
YOU ARE READING
When Wings Burn
Paranormal"Do you have a name?" "Harper. Just Harper." In a dangerously utilitarian world, Harper longs to experience the illegal. Whispers and hints of supernatural activity are everywhere, and yet one show of interest will mean immediate death. With no stor...
