Isle of Flightless Birds

Chapter One: News

If not for the sound and scent of the coffeemakers, the inside of the cafe would not be recognized as a cafe. It was a small, two floored building with an unassuming appearance and forest theme. On the outside it appeared to be like any other cafe with it’s usual occupants sitting closer to the windows in their favorite seats and the newer sitting further back in the only available chairs but, once inside, the place came alive with a bustle of activity and noise. It would be obvious, over the sounds of shuffling chairs, cutlery to plates, shoes on floor and the overpowering hum of voices that the conversation between the two men in suits at the back of the little coffee house would be utterly disregarded. Unfortunately for the customers, the words shared between these two had the power to change their lives, if they had cared to listen as so many did not.

 ”It’s kind of funny,” said the first man, slightly younger, with an air of distaste as he surveyed his surroundings, “that it’s being destroyed by the very thing that powers it.”

 “Hmm,” agreed the second man, who had his index finger curled around the handle to his mug. This man was older, but instead of distaste he appeared to have a complete apathy to the goings on, “It would make the job much easier for us if they stopped being so, well, human.” he looked to his partner, with a the beginnings of a grin on his face, one that the other did not return, “You said that as if you aren’t human yourself, Cain.” 

“Are we, though?” Cain lifted the coffee to his lips but didn’t drink, “With what we can do, surely we aren’t, and despite saving their lives, the people in this cafe wont think so after.” 

 Rain began to thud against the windows, and the other man sighed while Cain just nodded and continued, “If you want to continue to believe, El, then you’ll just stunt your growth.” El sighed harder this time, rolled his eyes and stood. Cain took a sip of his coffee before he joined his partner, and the two walked towards the center of the room. 

Cain took charge, reigning in his most authoritative tone, “Good evening, citizens. My name is Agent Ion, and this is Agent Abraxas,” he pointed to El, who nodded when the closest looked to him. Slowly, the noise in the cafe died down to a bare minimum, and eyes slowly focused and refocuses on them like a thousand news cameras on a car accident, “Today, this area will be rendered a closed space.”

“In other words,” El continued, dropping the briefcase he had carried over onto the closest table and popped the catches, “This area will be quarantined.” He flung the lid open, spilling the drinks that had been behind them everywhere. Instead of papers and other businesslike contents, the case held a machine that looked somewhat like a bomb, with two tubes on either side of a small alarm clock that were filled with an orange gas. Ion pressed the snooze button on the clock, and it started a timer.

05:00:00.

“Now,” Cain’s voice was the only sound, Irish lilt curling its way over the syllables over the words he was saying, “In order for this to work, for everyone, not one person can leave this place other than ourselves, clear?” That’s when the people started yelling, started refusing, started standing up and heading to the door, and that is when the timer beeped.

04:31:00.

That was when the people realized the doors had locked, and they were trapped in a cafe with their coffee and what they believed was a bomb. That’s when the two agents, the two men whose words could change peoples lives, took out the first set of weapons they had; their voices. “We understand that our time is dire today.” El said, calmly, evenly, through the folds and billows of Scottish consonants, “But, today is when we make our cause public.”