Labyrinth of White - The Moon Trilogy - Book #1

Chapter thirteen:

"Have you heard from 77432 and her team yet?"

"Not yet, sir. We suspect she might have lost contact."

"Yes. That sounds about right. She's usually back by now."

"What are we going to do about it? We can't just keep sending more agents. That would be a disaster."

"Yes. I know. We'll just have to play the waiting game. See what happens."

"Are you sure? Should we really just sit here and do nothing?"

"Yes doctor, I'm quite sure."

Alex forced his unwilling eyes open. He had woken up a while ago and sat up to lean against the tree again, but had made no other moves towards getting up. This couldn't be real. Wings? No way! There was absolutely no way on earth that he had wings. It was just impossible.

He had no idea how long he'd sat there, thinking pretty much the same thing over and over again in a loop. It had to be at least an hour.

He denied it again. No way. No way. No way, but sure enough, he could feel an uncomfortable pressure on his back; a kind of tugging feeling.

He opened his eyes and glanced back, and there they were. Each one had to be at least as long as he was tall. They were dark brown and speckled with black. The undersides were a muted greyish color, and like the tops, were speckled with grey.

He closed his eyes and again denied it. He had been doing this since waking up. There was just no way.

Other than the added weight on his back, he felt perfectly normal. He opened his eyes again and started flexing his fingers. They worked normally. He wiggled his toes, and they worked just fine. He blinked rapidly for a few seconds. Perfectly fine.

He tried this with every part of his body. All normal. He started to rise to his feet. He was successful. It was only a little harder than normal, but that was only because of the heavy... wings. Yes, wings. As impossible as it was—it was possible.

Although he had never had wings in his life, they must be a part of him now, right? They were as attached to him as any other limb. He tried to move them just like he'd moved all his other body parts just moments previous.

They worked just like everything else. He felt them move, he felt air moving through the feathers. It was surreal.

Strangely, they seemed to respond quicker than his other limbs, instead of not working as well. He had been half-expecting them to be sort of awkward and hard to deal with, like learning a new skill, but as he continued to flex and move them around, he saw that this wasn't true. He stretched them to their full length. It felt good, like stretching your back after a long day of work. He could almost believe that he really had had these wings his whole life.

If they worked like normal limbs, did that mean, with practice, he could eventually fly? He tried flapping them up and down. There was a rush of air and pine needles flew everywhere. A cloud of dust rose from around his feet. He coughed and shut his eyes against the stinging little granules.

He didn't even get an inch off the ground. He tried again, determined. He flapped and flapped. Nothing happened, other than his getting dust in his eyes. Pretty soon, his hair was covered in pine needles.

He tried once more, this time he angling his wings differently. It felt so weird. His wings.

He pumped the wings up and down not bothering with speed. He tried speed and it didn't work. He closed his eyes, concentrating on flapping. Up. Down. There was a slight lift, and he felt the pressure lift from his legs. He had to be at least a couple inches from the ground, which was a start.