Feathers of Silver

Prologue

Hello, my name is Danielle. I am what you would call an anthropological anomaly. I, unlike most who are reading this, have white fluffy wings, which at a young age, were scientifically attached to my back bone. I’m sorry if I am being too abrupt but I have found that hasty explanations help with the culture shock. I used to live in a facility, known simply as The Facility. I started going there when I was seven, for several reasons. One was the fact that I was an orphan. The Facility was the place that gave me my wings, due to experimental actions taken upon me. But anyway, I stayed in The Facility until age fourteen, in which I was released from it with several other subjects.

In The Facility, there were six experiments going on. They released two people from each experiment, as a test of sorts. Today I live with my friend, Hunter, also an anomaly. We wait for the call from The Facility to return. But we hope that maybe, just maybe, we might be able to stay out here, in the world. We, of course, know the probability is slim.

In The Facility, there were six experiments, each with very different, but equally intriguing results. In experiment #1, scientists messed up the human tissue in many different ways, while still ensuring that life was stable. They expected a blood mutation to occur, or a coma to save the experimentees from their pain, but instead found an excisional abnormality. The kids this test was done on became immortal. Never to die, these teens were both mentally and physically stable, the only sign of distinction being the color of their eyes. Their irises are white with flecks of rainbow in them. Any average person of the public would simply assume that they were fascinating contact lenses, but I know better.

The second experiment had to do with nuclear waste. The subjects were given nuclear waste in many forms until they eventually became immune to it. The waste ruined their immune systems though. The group of them deceased several months before I left The Facility with several other subjects. Their lives were valued only by their fellow subjects, not by anyone else, The Facility and government included.

Out of the six experiments, the third one is definitely the most long–winded. The scientists started the third experiment in the 80’s, before The Facility had even been built. The third experiment injected reptilian viruses into adolescents’ veins, messing up their DNA, giving the children the wings, horns, and tails of the mythical creatures often termed dragons. Hunter and I heard rumors of a camp made for this breed of anomaly, a safe refuge for anyone of this race.

Hunter and I are in Experiment #4. As previously mentioned, the subjects in this experiment got implanted with wings to that of angels.

The fifth experiment is the only one in which the two subjects who go out into the real world vary. They take shifts. The subjects are mind readers, so the United States federal government often uses them for murder cases. Each person in the experiment, though they all function for the same purpose, take turns reading the minds of those accused in murder cases. Though I never really liked their breed of people, I do pity them because of this task mandatory for their species. Even when they get to escape the government, they don’t really. Anyone who knows what they looked like can see a mind reader from half a mile away. They have (naturally) neon hair with neon highlights, and neon–colored eyes. They usually wear white and black, to balance out their appearance. I do not like these types of people because I feel that they do not mind read but mind rape. But my feelings towards them have not been shared with anyone else.

The last experiment is also in a situation where the government takes advantage of the subjects and their talents. Experiment #6 is full of natural–born profilers. By profilers, often termed filers, I mean people who can look at a situation, like say, a murder, and can tell the motives of the murderer and what the person they murdered meant to them personally. The subjects from this experiment are the only subjects out of the six experiments who look 100% human 100% of the time. The filers all have black hair and blue eyes, and all wear black clothing in a style often termed gothic.

In my particular situation, it does help to know that there are others like me out there. And you. The public is the only way that Hunter and I can actually make a difference to all of those people still in The Facility. That is, of course, only if the need would ever arise.

Every night I hope that it never will.

-Danielle

….. 2 years later

Chapter 1

I opened my eyes. Streaks of sunlight poured across my heavily carpeted bedroom floor, despite the curtains that I had hung over my windows to prevent just that. The clock on my bedside table read 7:30 in a neon green font. Though I was fully awake, I didn’t want to remove myself from the sheets of my bed. The only thing that got me up was the promise of how quiet and peaceful it would be in the rest of the house, considering that no one else in the residence woke up this early in the morning.

I sighed and got out of bed. I cracked my neck as I stood, more out of habit than of anything else. I padded down the hallway silently and walked into the shiny white bathroom that I shared with the other females of the household. I ran a brush through my slightly bedraggled bedhead and fluffed my side bangs. My hair was an unusual shade between brown and blond, that Zach called, peanut butter. It was hard to disagree with him though, because he had a point. I walked downstairs to the rest of the house. The second floor consisted of two bathrooms, my bedroom, along with the bedrooms of the other house’s occupants, but the fun tended to occur in the floor below. I walked down the stairs slowly, taking the time to breathe in the peacefulness of the quiet morning.

When I entered the kitchen I found that I actually wasn’t alone. Hunter, my best friend since as long as I could remember, was sitting at the kitchen table, eating dry cereal with a spoon. Any other female would be intoxicated by his appearance, from his green eyes to his shaggy black hair that swooped down over one eyebrow, to his glasses with rectangular black frames. I wasn’t however. I had known him too long and had been too close a friend to acknowledge his face. I could only acknowledge the effect it had on others.

He was wearing a fitted black tee shirt that could easily be part of a day look, but his pajama pants gave him away. When he spotted me, he greeted me with a friendly Hello. I replied with the same. I walked over to the refrigerator and took out a piece of frozen pizza. I didn’t even bother heating it up. After all, who was here to scold me? Hunter? Speaking of him, I could hear the cereal crunching around his mouth. I turned to him.

Are we out of milk? Or are you just odd? I asked him.

He was about to respond __ most likely with an explanation of his actions, but then we were interrupted by voices on the staircase. Zach and Brittney walked down the stairs, in the middle of an animated conversation. Zach and Brittney were both ten, six years younger than Hunter and I. As Brittney shifted her weight, her extremely silky, pencil–straight, almond brown hair moved with her, shining from the morning light. Her full bangs were still damp from the morning shower she had no doubt taken several minutes before. Zach and Brittney were given to Hunter and I to watch over, coming from the same experiment that we had. The kids were still immersed in their conversation, but Brittney turned and smiled at us, as she was the most cheerful person I had ever met.

Now one might wonder if our parents were going to come tumbling down the stairs and scold me for eating frozen pizza for breakfast. They might be surprised to learn that the answer was no. I was the oldest and ran the household, though I was only of sixteen years of age. I took care of these kids myself, no adult supervision required. I felt that I did a pretty good job raising them and Hunter thought I did a pretty good job, so I guess that I was golden. This practice of no adults was due to the complicated relationship I had with the president of the United States.

Sigh. I was hoping that I could stall the explanation, act like I was no more than a genetic anomaly. But then I would only be deceiving you, along with myself. My very existence was entangled with the government and their need for power. The president was, in essence, my boss. He gave me tasks to perform, most of them seemingly busy work. I was almost positive that they were. I had to do what he told me to, though thankfully the responsibilities he ensured me with weren’t at all complex. He never overworked me. He gave me just enough stuff to do so that I wouldn’t have too much free time. He felt that free time was the breeding ground for rebellion. Though I wasn’t a big fan of his, I had to agree.

He usually gave me multiple events and plans that I had to schedule. I typically finished doing this within a half an hour, so he also shouldered me with supervising his government scientists. He did this because I was an unofficial science prodigy. I had labeled myself that because everyone knew that I was. I could generally top the scientists in their own field, so the president found me to be a good supervisor.

Other than him being my boss, my relationship with the president was not exactly ordinary. He needed me because the government needed money from the taxpayers with little to no resistance from them. Hunter and I seemed to be able to solve that problem without difficulty. When United States citizens saw us and the feathers on our backs, they reacted towards us like a fan would to a star. The government and the president took advantage of the whole fandom scene and decided that they would be able to use us angels as a symbol for everything that the citizens wanted in society. The government was right when they predicted how the people would react. Whenever the government used us in advertisements, the citizens would actually consider the program, whereas without us they likely would not. The government put us in all the advertisements, as companies often did with famous actors and singers for makeup and nail polish ads.

We became well–known by the country practically overnight. We became as famous as the pop singers who wore the flamboyant clothing, and as popular as the new zombie television show everyone was obsessed with, only we were twice as addicting, because we were real. Hunter and I had to take care to close every window at night, even in the summer, so that the paparazzi on our lawn could not see inside. Being famous like this, I had been told, was not only the very reason for our existence, but also the whole purpose that we were created. That was what the government was implying anyway.

Hunter’s voice pulled me away from my internal distraction. He had said something and was looking at me expectantly.

I’m sorry. What did you say? I asked him.

Brittney wanted to know if we had any charity events that we were doing today. He answered.

I looked to where Brittney was standing in front of the cupboards. I caught her eye and said, No. We don’t. She nodded and went back to shuffling through the shelves, probably trying to find an alternative topping for her favored waffles. I then said that it looked like it would be a good pool day. The kids erupted into excited chatter. They loved the pool. I turned to ask Hunter about a new poll done about food, when we were once again interrupted by someone coming down the staircase.

Alex came down the stairs with a sour look on her face. Out of the five of us, she was the most beautiful, despite her efforts of cutting her black hair to right above her chin, quite cruelly might I add. She was what every female hoped to look like, though she was only thirteen. She hated all the attention her face gave her, so she resided to being a tom–boy and tended to dress like one. Well as much as her job allowed, anyway.

Let me explain. The government wanted the public to view us as if we were gods, so we had to dress the part as well as act it. When in public, we were to wear only white clothing, to not only enhance our air of excisional superiority, but to also add attention to our wings. The effect seemed to work as the government had wanted it to. Most things involving us angels usually did.

Alex scowled, quite obviously annoyed with the world and everyone on it. To anyone who knew her, it was quite apparent that this attitude was not habitual, at this magnification, at least. In short, she was just having a bad day. But I wasn’t. And neither was anyone else. A familiar ball of guilt swelled in my stomach. I’ll explain. The scientists programmed all of us to be happy, for anything but may result in rebellion. However, this programming didn’t work on Alex. She was barely ever content like the rest of us were. Now, it wasn’t like we were happy all the time, we still had all the other emotions, it was just that we were able to feel happiness, whereas she never was.

I gave her much credit for what she had to go through.

I don’t know how I’d be able to function if I could not feel joy.

Chapter 2

I sat at the edge of the pool with only my feet dangling in. The water cooled my flip–flop covered feet, which was quite the contrast to the sun burning my back. Sunblock covered my skin, forming an uncomfortable, oily, film on my flesh. Every once in a while I got splashed indirectly by one of the younger kids, but otherwise, I remained completely dry. I watched the kids play and laugh in the water while Hunter fired up the grill to make us some lunch.

He then walked over and sat down next to me, hanging his feet into the pool, just as I was. We sat in comfortable silence and watched the kids enjoy themselves. Brittney got out of the pool and walked over to where we were sitting. She stood right next to us and I had to tilt my head up to meet her eyes. She turned to Hunter. The expression on her face implied that she had finally figured something out.

You don’t like pictures at all, do you? She asked him.

He chuckled. No, I don’t.

She frowned and pursed her lips.

Why not?

I answered before Hunter could, though with something not even close to what he was going to say.

He doesn’t like being ogled at by millions of girls over the internet.

He glared at me, though he was obviously not expecting such abruptness.

I shrugged.

It’s true.

Brittney frowned

It is? She asked.

He sighed and said, Yes. It is.

With raised eyebrows, she said, Oh.

Hope that answered your question, Brit. I said lightly.

She nodded, turned and walked back into the pool. Why she didn’t just jump in, I’m not sure. I turned to Hunter.

Morning inquiry make you thirsty? I have lemonade. I told him wirily.

He looked at me, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Sure, Dani. Sounds good. He said, obviously a word short of mocking me.

As I walked to the house to get him one, I could feel the smile both in his eyes and on his lips burning into the back of my head.

Fifteen minutes later, we were all seated at our outdoor patio table, which was next to the pool, eating the burgers Hunter had prepared for us. Before eating, the younger two chimed thanks to Hunter, who acknowledged it with a nod. The younger three started a conversation about some famous singer and I automatically tuned it out. Hunter nudged my shoulder with his.

Did you hear that Pearle Whitmore is getting married? He asked.

Pearle Whitmore was a famous actress with blond hair and red lipstick.

I shook my head at his question.

Well, she is. And we’re invited. He said.

Just us, or the kids, too? I asked.

For events like this, people often only invited the two of us, not the whole group.

He shook his head, like I had expected him to.

Nope, just us. He answered.

I nodded. Then I thought about something.

I turned to him.

Are we friends with Pearle Whitmore? I asked.

He snorted.

No. We got invited because we’re famous. I think the wings helped with that. He said.

I rolled my eyes at him for stating the obvious.

Zach then stood up from where he was sitting and asked if he could go back into the pool, having scarfed down his burger in anticipation of a yes. I sat back in my chair and let Hunter take this one. He looked up from his food at Zach and said,

I am not cleaning up these burgers out of the pool, no matter how delicious they were originally.

Brittney made an ick face at what was being implied.

Zach glanced at her but continued to persist.

But I’m special. I’m an angel. I’ll be fine. He argued.

I spoke up.

Zach, you are obviously mistaken. You still have the body system of an average human being. The wings were simply attached to you; they don’t affect the rest of your body much. As much as you wish it to be true, you’re not superior to a regular human being in any other way and you are no superhero.

Everyone seemed to smile at this, though I only said it to shut him up.

Hunter unconsciously started to hum one of the superhero theme songs under his breath.

And for a little while, everyone was happy.

I had a nagging feeling that it wouldn’t last.

Twenty minutes later, everyone was back in the pool, including me. I was floating on a blue raft chair thing in my oddly conservative bathing suit. Suddenly, Hunter’s raft came within reaching distance of mine. I compulsively pushed him off of his chair into the six foot deep water. When he resurfaced, he pushed mine upside down, plunging me into the pool. The cold water hit me like a bus, but felt cool against my sunblock–filmy skin. I resurfaced after several seconds. Then, two feet away, Zach cannonballed, spraying us all with water. In my heart I felt content.

Then, time froze. Like time actually froze. The beach ball that Alex and Brittney were hitting back and forth was in stuck between them, dangling in the air. Zach was a foot beneath, not yet submerged from his recent cannonball. Then, I turned around, expecting to see Hunter. But all I saw was blood. It was clouding the water like it did on shark documentaries. There was no source, it was just there. Then it started moving. The blood was turning the pool red, one foot at a time. The blood was an inch away from my body was when I screamed.

I woke up with a gasp. The first thing that I saw was Hunter’s worried face hovering over mine. I realized two things just then; we were in the shallow end and Hunter was holding me in his arms. Both were probably done to keep me from drowning. I must have passed out. I noticed the kids staring.

I’m fine. I think I’ll go sit out for a while. I said, getting out of his arms and out of the pool.

Though these people were my unbiological family, I still felt embarrassment burning through my stomach. I sat on the edge of the pool with a light blue towel wrapped around my shoulders while my wings extended outwards. After a while, I noted that the sky was starting to darken. Hunter dried himself off and came up to me. I was still so used to seeing him with his glasses on that he looked slightly foreign to me with them off. He squatted down next to me, his face serious and completely flushed of his usually happy demeanor.

"We are going to talk about what happened later." He said in a low voice before standing up, taking his towel off of the patio chair that he had draped it over, and walked into the house. If I didn’t know him well I might have mistaken his tense concern with anger or annoyance.

I sighed and watched the kids as they got out of the pool and dried off.

The one time I try to be normal. I thought to myself.

__ and then I woke up. I said.

Hunter was sitting on the edge of my bed, listening to me explain what had happened at the pool. I had just finished telling him and his face was filled with mild concern. After several minutes of silence, he spoke.

I’m sure that if you requested a doctor, you’d be able to get one to check this out for you. He said.

I shrugged dispassionately.

Do you want to do that? He prompted.

No. I said.

At least you’re honest. He grumbled.

He then sighed heavily and looked up from his hands at me.

I hated doctors and had tried to avoid them as much as possible throughout my life. They always tried to convince me to give them blood and tissue samples, and when that didn’t happen, they asked if they could just observe my wings. For some reason I always felt personally threatened by doctors or scientists. It never ended well for them. Especially thanks to this guy.

Maybe it’s just a one–time thing? I supplied, though we both knew the likelihood of that was low.

Maybe. He said flatly.

He flashed a fake smile at me before getting up and leaving the room, which clued me in on how worried he really had been.

I knew that the most probable reason that I had passed out was because of the heat and that I didn’t drink enough water, but for some reason, my heart just wasn’t in it. I spent most of the night spouting intricate theories from my mind, even when they made no sense at all in context. Finally, I fell asleep, wrinkles of worry still present on my face, even throughout the night.

Chapter 3

In my dream, I was crying.

There was a man across from me in the room that I was in, me being tied to a chair and him standing. I was bound by my hands and feet to the wooden seat, too heavy for me to lift. The man stared at me. He knew that I was famous and he wanted money, so he had kidnapped me in hopes of getting the high ransom that he wanted. But no one had contacted him. He didn’t know that Hunter’s phone wasn’t working or that Brittney could only be contacted by people on her contacts list. Since he had gotten no cash prize, he was going to kill me. I was going to die. Worse, I was going to die alone and scared, tears streaming down my face and a piece of fabric cutting into my lips. I wished that he would either let me go or kill me instantly, the anticipation was worse than any other part of it. I was tired of fear, though I was so, so, scared. Then, he came at me

I woke up gasping for air. Sweat was running down my back, right in between my shoulder blades. I sat up in bed. My alarm clock read 3:20 in the morning and the room was still dark. I mentally groaned, knowing that I had no chance of getting any more sleep that night. I made my bed and walked downstairs, into the kitchen. It was completely silent. Not in a bad way though. I got myself a glass of water and sat down on the couch. I was never really one to watch television. I found greater entertainment in reading. I stared out the window, into the yard, watching smaller creatures, like raccoons and stray cats try to get into our uncovered garbage pail. I reminded myself to cover it up in the morning.

I watched as outside got progressively lighter in tint until I heard someone walk down the stairs. The clock on the wall said 6:45. It was Hunter. He looked at me, his eyebrows raised to his hairline. He said Good morning. I nodded in response. Then a look of mild puzzlement crossed his features. He seemed to be thinking about watching something on TV. His gaze went from me, to the television, to the couch I was sitting on, then back to me again. I could tell that he wanted to watch a show, but knew that I wouldn’t want to watch it, yet I was occupying the couch, the main piece of furniture in the room other than the table. He was simply too nice of a guy to ask me to leave. Well, I needed no words from him. I didn’t see the reason for making him feel guilty, when I could easily avoid the situation altogether. I got off of the couch and walked into the kitchen, saying Good morning. to him as I brushed by.

He frowned.

You didn’t have to leave. He said to me from a room away.

It’s not like I was doing anything anyways. I said with a shrug, only realizing after I had done it that he couldn’t see me.

He sighed, as if we had gone over this many times before. In all honesty, we probably had. I heard the click of a remote and the muffled sound of voices coming from the television. Whatever Hunter had come out to watch, he was watching it now. I fixed myself some breakfast and ate in the kitchen. When I was done, I went into the living room and sat down next to Hunter on the couch.

How long have you been up? He asked me.

I shrugged, my shoulder brushing against his.

I woke up at three–thirty and couldn’t go back to sleep. I said.

I found no need to lie to him and anyways, I knew that he would want the truth.

He turned to me and asked,

Is everything okay?

Fine. I said breezily.

Then why were you up at three in the morning?

Couldn’t sleep. I told him.

"Why couldn’t you sleep?" He asked me patiently.

Nightmares. I said, before walking back into the kitchen.

If I had not left the room, I knew that Hunter would have asked me what my nightmare was about, which I really didn’t want to elaborate on. If I told him, since I could never really keep anything from him, he’d feel pity towards me, which was the last thing that I wanted. He knew how much I disliked pity, so I didn’t understand why he persisted in giving it to me. I tried to avoid it at all costs. Pity made shame burn in my stomach and it made me uncomfortable.

He walked into the kitchen and smiled at me. The concern he’d