Resist

27

The next morning was when the bird hunting party left. James and I along with Jack and Will went on the mission, four people as Gavin had said. To get feathers, only James and I really needed to go but in the danger of the city, a larger group offered more protection.

"Where are we even going to look?" Will asked as we left the hotel behind in the maze of London streets. "There's not much living in the city anymore."

"Some of the old parks by the river must still have enough greenery for birds to be around," I thought aloud. "Otherwise we'll have to go out to the forest, that'll be a long ways."

Jack nodded his agreement, the forest would be almost too far to go today; we hadn't left at dawn as with the raids seeing as we didn't expect to have to go as far as we did then.

"Off to the river then," Will said briskly, pointing down the next street we passed. "This way."

We silently followed Will who said he knew the way. I felt doubtful, he never seemed to stop joking long enough to be on top of things and know where to lead the group. Jack however seemed to have full faith in the shorter boy's knowledge of the London streets so I didn't voice concerns.

I learned to not doubt them either as we found ourself looking out over the Thames after half an hour of walking. The gray waters were a reflection of the cloudy London sky, a drizzle immanent. A single boat was on the water, a crude symbol of Xavier painted on the side. We kept in the shadows of a unkempt hedge until it had sailed from view. Now the coast was clear.

James saw a bird almost immediately, a pigeon perched high in one of the few trees still standing. Stumps surrounded the tree, evidence of people's desperation for supplies. Each had been roughly hacked from it's trunk, a few furrows in the ground showing where the trees had been drug away from their residual places.

James briskly moved so the bird was in range of his misericorde knives and then brought it down with a flick of his wrist. I watched as it thudded to the ground amongst the large tree roots and lay still. I moved quickly over next to James as he bent and examined the pigeon. Its feathers were dilapidated, signs of even the birds struggle for proper sustenance evident. With a look of disgust, James touched the feathers on its wings, the ones untouched by his knife and the seeping blood from the wound. They were brittle and fell apart beneath his touch, only the quill left.

"This won't be of any help," I stated, suddenly saddened that the bird's life had been in vain. Although it looked as though the pigeon had been on its last day anyways; perhaps we'd done it a service and put it out of its misery.

"Maybe there are some that have survived healthily," James said, attempting optimism. I shrugged, half agreeing. There could be but it seemed doubtful.

Jack whisper-shouted from nearby then. "James, there's another here, in the hedge."

With a deft movement, James pulled his knife from the bird's body, wiping the blood on the hem of his shirt, and then going to join Jack. I was left to look at the pigeon's meager body by myself, disgusted with what out world had become.

I made me way towards Jack and James, Will falling into step beside me, eyeing the river for another boat all the while. "Essie, we're not going to find a proper bird for feathers are we?" he asked.

"No," I confirmed, sadly letting him know that this trip had been in vain.

"We'll find a way to fly your arrows, don't wo-" Will words were cut off as a spear sailed through the air and landed on the grass before us, the long shaft quivering after the impact.

"Shit," he swore immediately, grabbing my arm and pulling me with him. We dashed down the hedge, away from the direction the spear had come and towards Jack and James.