Resist

46

Somehow, the eyes of each member of The Recovery seemed to find on another in the great expanse of the atrium. We all were thinking the same thing as our pupils focused one each other; we're not going to get out.

The air had changed tones from the soldiers hindering our escape to them having us under their control; seemingly all they had to do now was bind up our hands. We of course never would give up that easily but the tide had changed and we all felt it. I was looking to Will, the one who had fought so valiantly so far. He was sizing up the soldiers around him, still trying to find the way to get out, still trying to kill as many as possible and return to the hotel. I glanced at Tucker and Jack, the broad boy standing protectively in front of the injured one, his ax still raised and prepared for an attack. His eyes flicked to me, silently calling for my return.

I felt a need to be down by Jack, a magnetic draw that pulled me to stand and put my hands on the railing. My side was aching horribly, sharp pains wracking through me with each breath. My face hurt, my leg hurt; I was in bad shape. But I could still go on and to be beside Jack and help protect him, I would.

The atrium was still silent and frozen, Xavier having not moved further from the door yet. He just stood there letting his dark eyes scan over the room slowly. Behind him stood another man, almost equally as daunting and authoritative. The way he stood slightly behind and to one side only let me assume he was Xavier's second in command.

The silence hung for a moment longer, only the sound of someone readjusting a shield making any noise. "Get them," Xavier said, his voice deep, smooth, and menacing.

The battle renewed and twice as loudly, the soldiers throwing themselves into it with an energy lacking before and The Recovery reacting with rigorous vigor for their survival. I spread my wings, ready to descend before I realized my knife was still in the dead soldier behind me. I turned and withdrew the blade from his body with a horrible squelch. I almost lost my stomach at that. Then I grabbed the arrow I had shot earlier, still stuck in one of the newels of the railing, and threw it back into my quiver.

I turned and heaved myself over the railing, wings spread and slowly lowering myself. Flapping my wings required a multitude of muscles up and down my shoulders and back, some of which lay over the cracked bone in my ribs. This made for painful and slow progress, the kick the area had endured having worsened the wound dramatically.

I finally set my feet on the ground, far away from the thick of the fighting. I took a second to assess the battle, seeing Xavier fighting near the edge but not with whom he grappled. I prayed it was someone at least capable enough to keep themselves alive.

I jogging across the atrium, following the wall to reach Jack and Tucker. The broad boy was locked in combat with a soldier, swinging the massive ax at the Xave with a speed that should have seemed beyond such a young man. I pulled my bow from being hung cross body, nocking an arrow as I bumped along. I only paused momentarily to let loose the arrow, sending it off to hit he soldier in his dominant arm. This allowed an easy dispatch for Tucker.

A dead sprint would have been ideal but considering the sharp pains I endured with each step of my jog, it was in impossibility. I eventually made it back to the two boys, kneeling to check on Jack as he lay on the floor.

He was still breathing, shallowly filling his lungs, but unconscious. I had not expected him to awaken but also had hoped he would be, so I could see his green eyes and see light in them; it would have made this all less painful.

"Company," Tucker told me, alerting me to turn around and ready for an attack. I spun and stood, a combination that left me breathless. I worried about fighting in such a state, but it was undoubtedly necessary right now.