Page 28 of Victorious: Part 2
Before I can respond, Loki’s voice booms from his den. “Haven, Nighthawk. Get your asses in here,now!”
We exchange glances and immediately spring into action. Whatever playful moment we were having evaporates as we rush towards his lair. When we burst through the door, Loki is hunched over his monitors, his face grim.
“What is it?” I demand.
“Remember those camera feeds I’ve been monitoring? The ones showing inside the prison?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling up multiple screens. “Look at this shit.”
The monitors display grainy black and white footage from inside the California Institute for Women. But what I’m seeing doesn’t make sense. Groups of women huddled in corners, guards moving with military precision, and something else.
“Are those markings on the walls?” Nighthawk steps closer, her voice sharp with recognition.
Loki nods. “Started showing up two days ago. At first, I thought it was just graffiti, but look at the pattern.”
My blood runs cold as the image focuses. Carved into the concrete walls are symbols I recognize all too well.
Bird symbols.
Nest symbols.
But there’s something else mixed in, newer markings that make my skin crawl.
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper, pointing at the screen. “That one. Upper left corner.”
Nighthawk follows my gaze and goes rigid. “Blue Jay, that’s—”
“A Hummingbird mark. Poppy’s mark.” My heart starts racing. “But she’s never been to that prison. She’s never even seen the inside of a cell.”
“Unless…” Nighthawk says slowly, “… they’re using our symbols to mark territories.”
“Or targets.” My words are barely audible as they leave my lips.
Loki pulls up another feed, this one showing a different section of the prison.
More markings.
More symbols.
A Blue Jay.
A Nighthawk.
Clear as day.
And then I see something that makes my stomach drop.
“There,” I point at a figure moving through the corridor. “That guard. The way she moves…”
“That’s not a guard,” Nighthawk breathes. “That’s a fucking bird.”
“How can you tell?” Loki asks.
“The way she checks corners, keeps her back to walls, never lingers in open spaces. Plus, look at her posture.” Nighthawk points to the screen. “She carries herself as if she’s constantly ready for combat, and she’s light on her feet. Ready to take flight. Guards don’t move like that.”
Loki’s fingers fly over his keyboard, pulling up more footage. “If you’re right, then we’ve got bigger problems. Because I count at least six guards moving with those same patterns.”
“Six birds working as guards?” I shake my head. “That’s not random. That’s coordinated.”
“That’s an operation,” Nighthawk corrects grimly. “And if they’re using our symbols…” She turns to face me. “Haven, I think I know what’s happening. But you’re not gonna like it.”
