Phoenix

The Show began like any other. But things were different today.

As the Third Guard pulled the cages out of the truck, he slipped a key into my cage. I picked it up and concealed it in my hand. “You ready?” he whispered to me as he set my cage beside the others.

I looked at him and nodded. “Let’s do this,” I said determinedly. He nodded, then walked away. The curtain fell, and the Show began. The Ringmaster jeered to the crowd, and the crowd roared back.

I looked to the Third Guard, who stood with the other Guards. He nodded, and I held the key behind my back, unlocking the braces on my wings. It felt so good to have the braces off, but I couldn’t stretch out my wings. Not yet.

The First Guard went to the cage beside me, pulling Jamie, the boy with the donkey ears, out of his cage. He snickered as he threw the boy onstage. The Ringmaster took out a lighter, and I winced as I heard Jamie scream in pain. Then I smelled his furry ears burning. I winced again.

“Hey, can I help with that one?” the Third Guard asked the Second Guard as he began to unlock my cage.

The Second Guard looked at him and laughed. “Go ahead, but be warned, the little bitch is a fighter,” he said, unlocking my cage.

The Third Guard stood next to the Second Guard as the door to my cage swung open.

The first thing I did was swing my fist at the Second Guard’s face. He passed out quickly, falling into the Third Guard’s arms. The Third Guard tossed him behind us.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Evan yelled.

I extended my wings, through the holes we had cut in my shirt last night. It felt pretty damn good to have them stretched out.

“Ringmaster! She’s escaping!” the First Guard yelled, running towards me. I started to beat my wings, getting a few inches off the ground.

“Take me with you!” the Mutants yelled, pushing to the sides of their cages. I frowned, closing my eyes for a second, trying to ignore their cries. It was hard enough to leave without them as is. I flew to where the Third Guard was and grabbed underneath his arms and picked him up. I started flying higher, breathing in a deep breath of the cold air.

“Holy shit,” he said, looking down. I felt his muscles tense.

I groaned. “You’re afraid of heights?!” I yelled.

“No!” he yelled back. “I’m afraid of falling,” he said in a quieter voice.

“Pathetic,” I said. I continued flying, looking behind me to see the lights of the Show fading. I smiled.

“I’m free,” I said softly. “I’m free!” I started crying, happy to be free. I whooped and hollered, excited. All my life, I had always been on display, for people to watch and learn from.

“Hey, Nix, are you happy?” the Third Guard asked me, and I could imagine the smirk that was on his face.

“Yeah, I am,” I said, tears of joy flowing down my face.

“Well, set us down over there,” the Third Guard said, pointing towards a cluster of rocks a couple hundred feet away. I dived, getting closer to the ground. “Jesus Christ,” he yelled as we dived.

I laughed. “Come on, it’s not like I’m going to drop you,” I said. “Or maybe I will,” I added, cackling evilly.

“You wouldn’t,” the Third Guard said, sounding scared.

I laughed. Then I looked down. We were still a few hundred feet off the ground…so…. I let go, letting the Third Guard plummet like a rock to the ground.

He screamed, and I dived down, folding my wings against my back to catch up to him. I caught him with a good hundred feet to spare. Only now I was holding him like a hug, and he was holding onto me for dear life.

“That was not funny,” he said, still sounding scared.

“Oh, but it was,” I said. Then we got to where he wanted us to stop, so I circled, slowly losing altitude, letting us gently land on the ground.

“Well, now we’re out of the Show, and you have some explaining to do,” I said, looking at the Third Guard.

“I guess I do,” he said quietly. “Let me officially introduce myself first.”

“What?” I asked him. He extended a hand to me, and I shook it.

“The name’s Jasper,” he said, smiling.

“Hello, Jasper,” I said, joking. “My name’s Nix.”

“Nice to meet you, Nix,” he said, joking back. “Well, I’m going to see if I can get a fire started, then I can do my explaining,” he said, picking up some sticks from the ground.

I joined him, and within a few minutes, we had a good sized pile of dry branches. I watched him as he took out a lighter and started to get the branches set on fire. I thought as I watched him. Jasper. What a fitting name. He really did look like a Jasper. But, I didn’t like full names. What would be a good nickname…?

“I’m going to call you Jazz,” I declared.

Jazz looked up at me and raised an eyebrow. “I like shortening people’s names,” I said. “So, to me, you will henceforth be called Jazz.”

He laughed. “Can’t argue with that logic.” Then he started working on the fire some more.

I laughed, watching him. He was failing at making a fire. “Let me,” I said, taking pity on him. I took the lighter from him and leaned down to the fire. “Watch and learn,” I said.

I took the lighter and held it to a pile of fine grasses, letting it start to smolder. Then I blew lightly on the sparks, letting it catch on fire. I put some dry sticks into the fire, letting them catch. Then I arranged them in a pile, and before long, we had a fire.

“And that’s how you make a fire,” I said, standing up and laughing.

“Showoff,” Jazz accused.

Suddenly a wind picked up, blowing dirt into my fire, putting it out. “Dammit!” I yelled. Jazz laughed, and I glared at him.

“Sorry, but it’s funny,” he said. I frowned at him. “Come on, we don’t really need a fire,” he said.

“But it’s getting cold,” I said, feeling the wind pick up again, chilling me. I pulled the white Government Issue shirt closer to my skin, but that didn’t change the fact that it was thin.

Jazz sighed. He sat down on the ground, his back against a boulder. “Come here,” he said, holding his arms out. I walked over to him, and sat down next to him, cuddling into his chest. God, he was warm.

“Jesus, Nix, you’re freezing,” he said, shivering slightly.

“I know,” I said, frowning.

After a few minutes of silence, Jazz spoke. “Nix, where are you from?”

I looked at him, my body still shivering. “I think I asked you first, a few days ago,” I said.

Jazz seemed to think for a moment. He frowned. “I guess you did,” he said, chuckling.

“So start talking,” I prompted him.

“Well, it’s a long story…” he trailed off.

“Start talking,” I demanded.

“Fine, miss bossy,” he said. Then he started to talk.