67
TWILL
Sharp.
Hot.
Whatever dug into the back of Twill’s hand quickly pulled away, then stabbed again. Her fingers nearly lost the bar with an involuntary urge to let go, get away, but she managed to hold on even when another stab came.
A scream rose in Twill’s throat and she forced her mouth to remain shut; she trapped it and wouldn’t let it out.
There was a ruffle of feathers, then another stab.
A peck.
It was the crows, one or more.
Twill had one foot on the nearest horizontal bar, her other leg dangling in the air. One hand was free and the other was under attack. If she let go, she’d fall. She’d hit the concrete below hard—maybe break a bone, maybe worse.
“Where’d you go, Twill? I’m at the lock. I think I can pick it, but I need your help. Truce, okay? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
Although Twill couldn’t see much of anything, she still had a vague idea of where the door was, and Langdon’s voice hadn’t come from that direction; it had come from the opposite side of the cage. He—
Peck!
That one caught Twill on the back of her hand, just below the knuckle of her middle finger.
Her fingers splayed open, lost the bar, and grabbed at empty air as she twisted and began to fall.
Twill grabbed blindly with her other hand, somehow found another bar.
She pulled herself up and against the cage with such force that the entire structure rattled.
It shook like a bell hit with a hammer. The harsh thump reverberated out in all directions.
The crows squawked and took flight, sending another rain of debris down from above.
“Fuck, Twill! Why the hell do you keep doing that?!” Langdon shouted from below. A different position now; he was circling below her.
Twill managed to get her injured hand back on the bars and quickly hoisted herself up to a standing position again.
At least nine feet off the ground now. She was breathing hard and did her best to do it quietly.
In through her mouth, out through her nose.
She forced her body to calm as the birds settled above.
Until there was no sound left but Langdon’s shuffling steps below as he charged across the cage and crashed into the bars directly below her.
That sent the birds fluttering again. More debris. More angry caws.
This time when it faded away, all was silent.
Either Langdon stopped moving, or he’d taken off his shoes so he could move quietly.
Twill reached up to the next bar and was quickly met by multiple pecks, a frenzy. She yanked her hand away, swatting at the small bodies—three, maybe four of them, all attacking at once. There were more above her, a lot more. She was near the top, had to be.
Down below, the metal chain rattled.
Dragged across the concrete.
Then a slow whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Like a helicopter blade slowly coming to life.
Spinning.
Langdon was—
He let out a soft grunt when he released the chain, and that was quickly followed by a loud clunk! as the chain smacked against the bars directly below Twill’s feet.
“You went high!” Langdon called out over the frenzied birds. “You’re climbing, you sneaky little bitch!”
He quickly reeled in the chain and began to spin it again.
When he let it go the second time, it struck close enough to Twill’s hand for her to feel the displaced air.
The end must be weighted, probably with the lock he’d picked to remove the chain from his leg.
It clattered to the ground and scratched across the floor as he prepared to throw it again.
Twill had no choice; she had to go higher.
She needed to find the top and hopefully swing over to the other side.
She knew she was close; she could tell from the sounds of the birds. They couldn’t be more than a few feet above her. That meant one more horizontal bar, maybe two, and she’d be at the top.
Before she could change her mind, she reached up and found the next bar.
When the birds pecked at her hand, she swatted them away.
Not gently, but with harsh, heavy swings of her arm.
The birds were bigger than she thought, heavy; it was like hitting bags of sand, but she hit them anyway.
She kept swatting until there were none left.
They flew to other parts of the cage and cawed at her angrily.
Twill gripped the horizontal bar and hoisted herself up. She was bringing her foot up when she heard the whoosh down below, the low whistle as the chain flew through the air. It struck her in the small of her back, like a weighted fist against her spine.
Twill fell.