Hour Of Darkness
George's Chapter, If I Needed Someone
For George, going was slow. He jogged slowly, far slower than he would have preferred, his wings batting awkwardly against his back and calves with every step. The day was hot, and his dark brown wings seemed to absorb the heat trememdously well. He was dripping with sweat, his dark brown hair clinging to his forehead and the back of his neck. He slowed to a stop, panting, not yet to the center of the field. He used the back of his hand to wipe the perspiraton from his neck, fingers hitting the leather band. George smiled. Of course!
Jai guru deva om.
The wings folded, getting smaller and smaller until they disappeared all together. George smiled widely, feeling much better, and much cooler. He contunued his jog, the center of the field very close now. He whistled as he jogged, his sneakers slapping the grass that was now much shorter, as if someone had mowed it. He slowed to a stop, looking in all directions. To one side, the far away city to which John was headed. To the other, a mountainscape, snowy peaks rising to the azure sky. On the last two adjoining sides, the thick forest where Paul had headed. Ringo was probably still in the field, practicing his little spellbook spells.
George removed his shoes, sitting on the ground to rest. He found his chest muscles were more defined, already showing greater strength because of the wings. Great, he thought, smirking. Don't even have to weight train.
He sat for a few minutes, resting and trying to decide where he ought to start. He had to learn how to fly. That was why he asked for wings. He had always, as almost everyone does, wanted to fly, and now he was determined to succeed.
He stood up quickly, his bare feet sinking into the soft grass. He would have removed his shirt, had he had one, but since he had accidentally shredded it, he had nothing to worry about. He placed his long fingers over the pendant, chanting.
"Jai guru deva om."
Again he became queasy, but not nearly as badly as before. He threw up into the grass, then the wings began to form, unfolding gracefully into the sun. It was better that time; it didn't hurt. George supposed that he was getting used to it. He folded and unfolded his wings, muscles rippling, admiring the smooth and sinuous movements of the wings. They weren't exactly what he had hoped for; he was expecting feathery wings, angel wings, the kind you read about in the story books, but he supposed these would do fine, if they worked. It was better to have ugly wings that worked than pretty wings that didn't. Or no wings at all.
He flapped his wings delicately, getting used to the muscles and the feeling of the wind on his new skin. The breeze rippled the thin membranes, sending a quick shiver up his spine. He smiled nervously, flapping harder, his body feeling lighter. It was obvious, however, that he wasn't going to get into the air by just flapping. He gave a little hop but that didn't seem to help. He jogged slowly, wings unfolded to their full twenty feet. He flapped them in one strong burst and jumped into the air...
...and landed flat on his face. George sat up, spitting grass from his mouth. He used his tounge to see if his teeth were all in; the fans probably wouldn't like him missing a front tooth! Luckily, there were all there, and he spit out some more grass before standing up. He grimaced at the friction burns on his chest and the grass stains on his knees. Regardless, he started off running again, wings outstreached in the sun. He sprinted as fast as he could, then jumped as high as his skinny legs would let him. He leapt into the air, giving his wings one good flap with a grunt. He went a little higher a little longer, but inevitably dove into the grass. He sat there spitting out dirt and grass, thinking, I really gotta work on my landings.
He decided he ought to figure out a more painless method of landing before he started going any higher. He took off the same way he had before, sailing for a few seconds, then he thrust his feet out in front of him, trying to land upright. Instead, he jarred his ankels terribly, pain shooting through his entire body. He cursed loudly, massaging his ankle which was quickly swelling. He stood up, walking carefully. It seemed alright, only a bit twisted. Well, he thought to himself, That's not the way to do it...
George started running slowly, using his ankle gingerly at first, then more boldly as he realized the injury was slight. He shot into the air, sailed about ten or fifteen feet, then started donward. He quickly tucked his head down, his chin to his chest, then rolled into a tight ball, landing on his shoulder blades and the tops of his wings. He rolled over and over, then came to a slow stop. He stood up, then laughed. It worked! It wasn't the most glamorous landing, but at least it didn't kill him! He practiced this a few more times until he had it down to a science, dubbing it his 'emergency landing'. It seemed that each time he practiced it, his flight grew longer and steadier. He smiled uncontrollably. He was going to fly!
This thought gave him new strength, and with renewed vigor he sprinted off down the field, launching into the air and rolling in the grass. His hair collected grass, and he paused to brush off his mop top. He rested for a moment, his pecoral and back muscles aching, his breath labored. He was hungry. Really hungry. His bare stomach growled loudly, but he wasn't about to stop now. He was so close! He prepared to head off down the field again.
He stood determinanetly, taking a deep breath. He leaned back slightly, then sprinted forward with all his remaining strength. Faster and faster he ran, renewed by the prospect of sailing unhindered through the air. His feet became lighter, his body rising slightly. He gave a gentle push, faced fully into the wind, and took off.
He teetered precariously for a moment, almost crashing back to earth, but with one solid thrust of his wings, he went higher and higher. He tucked his hands into his pockets, beating his wings harder and harder. The ground fell away, disappearing underneath. He smiled into the wind, his hair plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck. All frustration drained from his body, his form limp but tense, keeping his body in perfect aligment. He circled higher and higher and higher, the ground a few hundred feet below. Eventually he went too high, his breath becoming short in the low oxygen of the higher atmosphere, so he tempted fate and aimed straight for the ground.
A tense thrill rushed through his body, the ground approaching at an incredible rate. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, feuling him with frantic pleasure as he plummeted to earth. At the last possible second he pulled out, his bare toes skimming the green grass. George laughed nervously, not really wanting to try that again. He whirled over onto his back, doing a barrel roll, looking into the deep blue sky. He whooped with pleasure; he was flying! Flying!
He raced around the field at an incredible clip, dodging the lone tree at the last second, his reflexes becoming instinct. He knew exactly when to turn, exactly when to pull out of a dive. It was all second nature. George could sense every tiny change in the wind under his super-sensitive wing skin, adjusting slightly to match. He found he could fly higher using hot air pockets or circling, then he could descend by aiming for the ground, diving like a hawk. He could pull out quickly by spreading his wings abruptly, like a parachute, and streach out his legs to land soft as a feather. That was much better than his emergency landing. However, he still practiced that landing, too, making sure he could do it at high speed in case he needed to. Unexpected circumstances could occur, and he may have to resort to using the less than comfortable escape route.
George sat on the ground, catching his breath and attempting to regain some energy. Flying took much of his energy, he found, but his wings and muscles were seeming to take the punishment well. George's stomach growled terribly, and he decided maybe he ought to head back to see if Ringo could conjure up something to eat. George stood up shakily, teetering from lack of energy, then steadied himself. He took a running start, then launched into the air, hooking his thumbs into his pockets. He circled higher and higher, trying to catch a glimpse as to the location of his mates. He could see for miles; the forest fanned out in a huge L-shape to the north and east, the mountains appearing dark and foreboding to the west, the city sparkling in the sunlight that seemed to be fading slightly. George checked his watch; 6:30. He scanned the field, looking for his little bandmate. He stopped suddenly, hovering midair with his winds held out.
What the hell... He squinted, trying to make out what it was that was hunched over in the field. It appeared to be a huge blue stone, not moving at all. Then, it shook, streaching out a long neck and bellowing deafeningly. George did a double take. It couldn't be...could it?, The supposed dragon spread its wings, five times larger than George's, and took off into the air. It circled higher and higher, reaching the same altitude as where George flapped lazily now, except several hundred feet away. The dragon turned, twisting its shining blue body towards the ground, and shot downward. Georege cried out in awe, the dragon moving at an incredible speed. George returned his hands to his pockets, then sped off towards the monster, curiosity piquing his senses, all rationality leaving him. As he got closer, he saw that the dragon appeared to be attacking (or trying to attack) a small person who was running towards the woods. The dragon swooped down, bellowing irritatedly, and the person dropped, but seconds too late, and the dragon swooped to scratch thick wounds accross the unfortunate runner's back. George dipped lower, trying to remain unseen by the person as he/she staggered to the woods while trying to see if he could identify the person. With a loud gasp that nearly knocked him from the sky, he realized that that poor person being attacked by the dragon was Ringo!
I have to do something! George thought, thinking fast. He dove at the dragon, using the bit of magic Ringo had taught him to zap the bugger in the nose. The dragon whirled, screeching, and shot through the air, heading straight towards its antagonist. Uh, oh... George thought. Something tells me this wasn't the brightest idea...
George backpedaled, twisting in the air and flying as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Oh, god, I'm gonna die! His mind screamed. He strained every muscle in his body, pain surging through his protesting limbs. The dragon's breath was hot on his outstreached wings, and George could tell he was no match for speed against this goliath. He dove towards the ground suddenly, the dragon's talons clipping his bare feet. He screamed in agony, but continued on, ignoring the bleeding gashes in his feet. He shot another sparkler at the dragon's belly, and the beast cried out in pain so loudly that George had to slap his hands over his ears. He whirled through the air for a few seconds, out of control, flying headfirst at the ground. At the last second he pulled up, returning his hands to his pockets. He breathed deeply, preparing himself for what he was about to attempt. With a wish and a prayer, he headed straight for the approaching dragon.
Time seemd to slow, the two winged wonders staring at each other determinately, neither willing to back down. George prepared himself for the confrontation, summoning his largest amount of energy into the gold sparks dancing on his outstreached hands. With a scream, he launched the magic burst right into the dragon's eyes, then dove to the ground.
The dragon gave an unearthly screech, pawing at its eyes but accomplishing nothing. The dragon let out what seemed to be a loud whimper, then dove off towards the forest, rubbing its eyes as it settled into the treetops. George yelled and whooped in triumph. He had taken out a dragon! He flipped though the air in a victory dance, yelling loudly. He had taken on the dragon, and won.
On To Chapter Six!
Back to the intro
Please email me with any comments or suggestions!
