Page 126 of Wings of Ebony
This is falling apart. My entire plan is falling apart.
“IT’S POETIC YOU’D BE HERE.” The General’s voice bellows over the crowd, rattling every building on Main Street. There, up high, hanging like white sheets on the front of the District’s buildings, is the General’s angry face.
I-it worked. Somehow it worked.
There, in the flesh, is Bri standing in front of the General looking up at the recording. Her eyes puffy, hair ragged, and her wrists bandaged like she’s a damn mummy. She looks somehow even more pale and is smashing a button on the wristwatch clutched in her hand.
“We backed up the feed,” she says smiling nervously. She looks like she’s ’bout to pass out. “We got everything. I-it’s all here.”
The General looks between us and his expression turns from confusion to shock as the video replay shouts overhead.
The people on the street watched, a mix of confusion, shock, and anger written on their faces.
“YOU’RE A WASTE OF SPACE, JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER.” The video plays, East Row’s brown brick homes in the backdrop, nestled side by side, so close it looks like they’re hugging.
Bri’s still standing there finger pressed to the watch, looking like she might faint.
“Turn it off!” the General shouts, and darts of light whistle through the air, knocking Bri off her feet. “Arrest her!”
Bri groans, writhing on the ground. The watch tumbles from her hands and the video glitches. Jhamal intercepts it, scoops Bri up, and disappears in the crowd.
In seconds, the playback starts again.
“This is treason! Arrest them both!” the General shouts, but the video of his gloating drowns out his shouting.
“I RUN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD! ME!” On the video, a flame from my finger grazes his throat.
People spill out of buildings, streams of students rush from the dorm halls, swallowing the courtyard—everyone’s eyes on the replay. The street’s a blanket of whispers, and it’s doubled in occupancy. All eyes are on the General’s gray face turning pink.
“Y-YOU’RE HUMAN?” It’s odd hearing my own voice so loud. Gasps erupt like an explosion and a few people glance at me, confusion, surprise, or something written on their faces.
“NOT COMPLETELY STUPID, I SEE.”
Patrol’s fixated on the video playback, but the General tries to get them to listen. “I said get her, now!”
A pair take off after Bri and Jhamal. The others ignore him completely, gaping at the General’s giant head on the screen. His skin’s turning red and chatter sweeps through the streets like a swarm of locusts.
“Hurry, Tasha,” I say. “While they’re distracted.”
The metal’s confusing between my fingers. I feel for the divot in the restraints and dig my nail in. I strain to pry it open.
“Almost got it,” Tasha whispers.
One more hard tug and the cuff on Tasha’s wrist snaps open. She’s much faster with free hands and my cuffs are off in seconds.
“BUT I GUESS EVEN DOGS HAVE BRAINS,” he bellows from a face ten stories tall. Tasha’s in the backdrop, and watching his magic pummel into her on screen rips me apart all over again. A few more seconds and the video flickers a moment then fades.
For a second, everything is silent.
Still.
Nothing moves.
No one breathes.
Eyes dart around and the General’s sweating bricks, completely unaware Tasha and I have freed ourselves. Patrol even stares.
He’s human.
