Flight of the Golden Harpy Read online

  Shail had never seen a man kill another one. He coiled up, tucking his face in his feathers.

  After dumping the bodies in the river, the two men returned. “Let’s get this buck in the warehouse,” Gus said. “I’m ready to celebrate with another drink. Wait’ll my brother hears what I got.” Gus grabbed for the harpy’s neck.

  Shail instinctively snapped at the man’s hand, clipping his wrist before Gus could jerk away. Shail hissed and showed his teeth, threatening to bite anything that came in reach.

  Holding his nipped wrist, Gus glared at the harpy. “You little fucker, you’ve messed with the wrong man. Give me my cattle prod.” Bert retrieved the rod off the top of the cage and handed it to Gus.

  Shail managed to sit up, and sniffled. He bravely tossed his long hair at Gus, who was massive, four times his weight. Shail knew it was suicide to defy the monster, but he was golden and king of the harpies. He refused to yield despite the consequences. Better to die challenging an enemy than like a curled-up frightened brown.

  “Look at this cocky fucker. I’m going to love this.” Gus hit Shail’s stomach with the rod and released an electric shock.

  Shail doubled over as the stinging pain coursed through his body. Before he could recover, the rod jabbed his testicles. Shail wildly flipped in the ropes as he was assaulted again and again. He tried to huddle under his protective wings, but the rod found his flesh, causing him to thrash against the hard pavement. His heart raced and he panted rapidly. He had never experienced such piercing pain.

  “Gus, Bill’s gonna be pissed,” said Lester. “This sucker’s getting all banged up on the pavement.”

  Gus grabbed the blond hair on the trembling harpy and looked into its eyes. “Yeah, he’s dazed and had enough. Put him in the cage. He won’t bite now.”

  Shail barely recalled being hoisted into the cage, but heard the metal rattle from his shaking body. He was numb, but felt like a million thorns had stuck him. Managing to swallow, he tasted his own blood from biting his lip. He lay limp, unable to fight or flee, as the men secured him. His wrists and ankles were freed of ropes, but they were replaced with shackles attached to chains impossible to chew through. Each chain was attached to the cage bars, forcing Shail to lie stretched on his side. The binding ropes that damaged his feathers came off, but the cage was so narrow that he couldn’t open or flail his wings. He wondered if the searing pain would ever leave.

  The men carried him into the large building and set his cage on the floor. Shail detected the reek of animal waste and rotting death. He closed his eyes and listened to the whimpers and cries of distressed creatures.

  After several hours, the throbbing had eased, and he stopped trembling and breathed normally. He lifted his head from his chained arms and glanced around the enormous room. The three men sat on bunks off to one side and drank from a bottle. He saw cages filled with terrified animals along the walls. Each creature cowered and hid in a corner. He sniffed the air, and aside from the stink, he detected a harpy. He hastily looked around, locating two lying on a cage floor in a dark corner. He telepathically called to them, but they didn’t answer, and he couldn’t see if they breathed.

  Gus came to his cage and sipped from the bottle. “This buck is strong. He’s already recovered,” he said to the other men.

  Shail softly hissed, knowing full well it was wiser to remain quiet.

  Gus chuckled. “You ain’t going to believe it, but the damn thing’s still hissing at me.” Lester and Bert approached the cage and peered down at the harpy.

  “They say these goldens are different from the browns,” said Lester and looked at Gus under the bright lights. “Gus, the harpy gave you a shiner.” He laughed. “The whole side of your face is turning black and blue.”

  Gus frowned, and Shail sensed anger. Gus grabbed the rod, adjusting the setting to high. He put it through the cage bars and held it close to Shail’s exposed ribs. Shail frantically fought the chain’s hold and tried flapping his wings while pushing his body away from the rod. The intoxicated men roared, watching him try to escape the rod in the narrow cage.

  “Let’s find out how much he can take,” Gus said and jammed the cattle prod against Shail’s ribs. Instead of withdrawing the rod, Gus held it against his skin and watched Shail go berserk.

  Shail thrashed for some time until his sweat-covered body seized up, and he went into convulsions, excreting his body fluids. His limp body twitched and his eyes closed with unconsciousness.

  * * *

  In the middle of the night, Shail woke. His body still suffered from burning numbness. He carefully glanced around for the men and saw they slept on bunks. He shook his hair to remove regurgitated food, and shivered in his own urine. Quietly he tried to pull his bloody wrists out the shackles, but it was hopeless. His body was so weak, he doubted he could walk or fly even if he were free of the chains and cage. He longed to curl up, but the restraints would not allow it. Feeling pathetic, filthy, and afraid, he closed his eyes and worried what the dawn would bring. I must not be seduced by the peace of death, he thought. My mate, son, and flock need me. Shail felt his willpower slipping away after the horrendous assault of the rod. His lightweight frame couldn’t tolerate much more abuse. Either his heart would stop or his mind would fall into irreversible depression, leaving him comatose. He glanced at the motionless brown harpies and knew the fate they had suffered.

  The morning filtered through the cracked warehouse door, and Shail stared at the sleeping men. They stirred in their bunks, and he hid his face in his extended arms.

  Lester approached the harpy cage. “How you doing, little buck?” Shail glanced up, but quickly buried his face again. “Hey, Gus, your golden is awake, but he’s damn timid. I think you broke him.”

  Gus sat on the edge of his cot and touched his painful, swollen face. He stood up and walked over to Lester and the cage.

  Peeking up at Gus, Shail cowered and forced his wing up and over his head. He trembled and backed his body against the bars.

  “See? He’s scared of you, Gus,” said Lester, and Bert joined them.

  “He can handle a few more prods,” Gus said, placing the rod against Shail’s ribs. Shail grit his teeth and grabbed the chains as excruciating pain entered his body. His frail body twisted sluggishly against the chains. Gus withdrew the rod and stared at the harpy’s dull half-closed eyes. Its chest pounded and it hyperventilated.

  One more, Shail thought, and I shall die. He heard the approach of a giant hover. After a few minutes, the men also heard it, and it distracted Gus.

  Gus walked to the warehouse doors and slid them open. “The freighter’s here. Get the cages ready to load.” Walking past a large female grogin, Gus hit the animal’s ribs with his rod. The grogin let out a cry and slunk to a corner.

  Shail wearily watched and tried to catch his breath and slow his heart. Gus was the worst of men, killing his own kind and finding pleasure in torture. Shail had never sensed such heartlessness in any creature, and the sadistic man was his master.

  Shail felt his body and mind shutting down. His nerves were raw, and he struggled to maintain control. He heard a woman’s voice enter the warehouse. He looked over and saw her standing by the animal cages.

  “Damn it, Gus,” she said. “These animals are filthy. You want to sell them, and they’re half dead. How many days has it been since you fed and watered?”

  “That’s Bert’s job,” Gus said.

  “Well, he should be fired,” she said. “Now what’s this crap about a golden harpy? Bill radioed and said you had one.”

  “He’s over here, Mollie. Look what the little son-of-a-bitch did to my face,” said Gus. They walked toward the cage. “I had to get him under control with a little shock therapy.”

  Mollie looked down at the harpy. “You jackass! You shocked this valuable harpy? When are you going to learn harpies are fragile? It’s like shocking a bird. It knocks the life right out of them.” She put her hand between the bars and petted Shail’s he
ad. “Bet you were really beautiful before that moron got to you.” She pulled out a small scanner from her pocket and ran it across Shail’s body.

  “I’m no moron, Mollie,” Gus grumbled.

  “Really? Well, the harpy is on the verge of a heart attack,” she said. “Your brother pays me to keep the animals alive for his hunting range, and you make my job damned impossible with this abuse.”

  “The little fucker loves to fight.”

  “He’s a golden. He’s supposed to be aggressive. Beside the yellow wings, that’s what makes him valuable.” Mollie shook her head and walked back to the freighter.

  In minutes she was back at Shail’s cage with drugs to slow his rapid heart rate and treat his depression, pain, and signs of shock. Covering him with a blanket, she inspected the other animal cages, giving orders to a few men who had arrived with the freighter. She crawled into the cage with the two lifeless browns. “And what did these two do that you had to beat them?” she called to Gus.

  “We gave ’em the depression drugs, but it didn’t work. The boys and I got bored and thought we’d have a little fun. I’ll take care of them.”

  Mollie returned to Shail’s cage. “Let’s wash you, little prince. I know you handsome boys like to be clean.” She left and came back with a bucket and towels

  Shail was soothed by the warm water and glanced up at the thin, coarse-looking woman who shampooed the vomit from his hair. Her short, dark curls dangled over her forehead while she sponged the dirt and dried blood from his smudged face and clammy body. She removed his soiled sash and washed it and the cage. With the bath, drugs, and fresh straw under him, Shail felt more comfortable. The middle-aged woman named Mollie had saved his life. She placed her hand against his face, and he licked her to show his appreciation.

  “You’re a lover, not a fighter. You just don’t like to be bullied.” She gazed down at him. “God, you’re absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to take good care of you.”

  Shail turned his head and ignored her and the other men loading cages, but watched Gus and Lester. They dragged the brown harpies out of their cages and tied their wrists together with a long rope. Tossing one end over a beam, they hoisted the harpies off the floor. Shail raised his head and looked for Mollie, but she was in the freighter. He turned back toward Gus and shivered, realizing he was about to witness the brutal removal of a harpy’s wings.

  Grabbing each wing, Gus took a knife and cut the vein in the wing tip. Blood spurted out while Lester applied a tourniquet on the wings near the harpy’s back. Gus castrated one male and placed the organs in a plastic bag. The harpy barely moved, but the second male flailed his wings and twisted on the rope.

  Gus laughed. “This one still has his mind,” he said to Lester.

  “You should see a bull calf when you make it a steer,” said Lester. “At least these harpies are quiet and don’t bellow.”

  The harpy stopped thrashing, and its body slowly squirmed while it dangled. Shail panted with anxiety, watching the ghastly torture. Under the harpies, a large pool of blood spread across the floor. The men snapped the cartilage in the wing joints and hacked off the feathered limbs, throwing them in a pile. Lester and Gus picked up the wings and loaded them in the freighter, leaving the harpies to die an excruciating death.

  Mollie came back to Shail’s cage. “Paul, this golden is ready to load,” she said to a man.

  Shail wrestled in his chains and pleaded with his eyes.

  “What’s wrong, prince?” she asked, and saw him glance at the dying harpies. “Gus, cut those harpies down and put them out of their misery, or do I have to? It’s scaring the heck out of the golden.”

  “Let it scare him,” Gus said. “Now he knows what to look forward to.”

  Mollie picked up her medical bag and took a step toward the browns.

  “I’ll do it,” Gus said. “Save your euthanizing drug.” He cut the ropes, and the harpies collapsed into the red pool. He snatched up each one by his long hair and slit his throat.

  Shail stared at the two dead harpies as two men picked up his cage and carried it on the freighter.

  Gus was the last one on board. “Let’s get out of here,” he called to the pilot and slumped into a seat. “This freighter is slow and can’t outrun a swarm. It’ll take two days before we reach Hampton.”

  * * *

  Mollie sat toward the back, next to the golden’s cage. She noticed the male’s low hiss when hearing Gus’s voice. “You’re feeling better,” she said, looking at the blond harpy. “I don’t like Gus, either.” The freighter engines cranked up, and the large transport lifted from the pavement.

  “I better hook you up to a catheter, so you stay clean,” Mollie said to the harpy and produced a tube. She seized his penis and started to insert the tube.

  Seeing what she planned to do, Shail came alive and was no longer lethargic or docile. He angrily hissed, wiggled, and attempted to push her away with a wing.

  “I can see how Gus got that black eye,” she said, and forced the tube into the restrained harpy. “You must be hungry, too.”

  When she held his head and put the tube toward his mouth, Shail violently tossed his body in the chains and snapped at her hands and the tube.

  “Wow, you really are aggressive,” she said, and saw he’d be impossible to tube feed unless knocked out. He was so wound up she barely got the tranquilizer in his arm.

  In a few minutes the harpy’s eyes became drowsy. Mollie placed the blanket on him and softly talked while stroking his neck. Subdued by the drugs and the gentle handling, the feisty golden nuzzled the blanket and drifted to sleep.

  Gus walked to the back of the ship. “You treat that animal like a baby.”

  “He is a baby,” Mollie said. “He may not understand me, but a calming voice soothes him, and all harpies like to have their necks massaged. I’m trying to reverse all the damage you did and build some trust.”

  “Why don’t you soothe me? I can show you a good time when we reach Hampton.”

  Mollie laughed. “I’d have a better time with the harpy.” She pulled out the feeding tube and slipped it down the harpy’s throat, feeding him pulpy liquid fruit.

  * * *

  Recovered from the abuse, Shail became more defiant with Mollie’s drug-and-tube treatment. She sedated him most the time. When he woke, he found his throat sore and hunger gone. As the freighter traveled toward Hampton, he lost all sense of time, not knowing if it was night or day. His only memory was Mollie and her gentle voice and hands. She groomed, washed, and caressed him, apparently knowing a lot about his race. The tube in his sex organs and the chains were uncomfortable, but he truly became upset when seeing or hearing Gus. Tossing in the chains and loudly hissing, he was quickly reassured by Mollie or one of her sleep drugs.

  * * *

  “There, my pretty little prince,” Mollie said as the harpy fell asleep.

  Gus walked over to Mollie and the unconscious harpy. “What’s this ‘prince’ crap? I think you’re getting too attached to this one.”

  Mollie smiled. “He is a prince: fiery, arrogant, and unyielding. No doubt he was a dominant male among other harpies. I can see the audacity in those blue eyes when he doesn’t get his way. And with his chemistry and looks, it’s rather hard not to get attached.”

  Gus sat down in a nearby seat. “Well, your prince will soon be hanging from a post while all that chemistry is cut up. Besides, you’ve been handling a drugged and chained harpy, but this sucker’s mean. Those boys who caught him had the fuck beat out of them. He got loose, your prince would rape you.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Mollie said. “Those old stories of harpy rape are fantasy. Every harpy I’ve handled is sweet and timid. The golden is a rebel, but with patience he’ll tame down. He’s alert and intelligent, with a strong will to live. I haven’t had to give him the antidepressant. I’m hoping a zoo will buy him rather than a hunter. I can’t understand why men want to destroy such an elegant creature.”

  �
��One of these days, a harpy’s gonna get a hold of you when you don’t control it. Maybe then you’ll appreciate me.”

  Mollie fluffed her brown curls. “Appreciate you? It’ll never happen.”

  Gus stood and growled, “Mollie, I’d kill most people for talkin’ to me like that.” He stormed away from the animal cages.

  * * *

  On the second night of the voyage the large freighter reached Hampton and set down outside the spaceport in the expansive landing strip. The men opened the large hover’s doors and unloaded the cages while they waited for the vehicle transports.

  Shail smelled the cool night air and opened his eyes to the starry sky. The sedatives were wearing off, and he stirred in his bonds. He heard the men’s voices while they unpacked. An unfamiliar young man looked down into his cage, and Shail seethed a warning sound.

  “This is a golden harpy?” the young man asked Lester.

  “Yeah, but keep your hands out of his cage. The son-of-a-bitch bites,” said Lester, and walked back into the freighter.

  The man looked down at the harpy. “I wonder if you’re Kari’s gold harpy.”

  Shail rattled his chains and grabbed the bars, pulling himself close to the top of the cage. He stared at the man with beseeching eyes.

  “I think you are her harpy,” he said.

  “Get away from that animal,” yelled Gus, treading heavily toward the smaller man.

  Shail made a begging sniffle and shook his chains, but the young man moved away as Gus reached the cage. Shail saw the rod in Gus’s hand that he tapped against the top cage bars. Shail quickly released his hold on the bars and froze with fear.

  “Go ahead,” Gus said, looking down at Shail. “Jerk those chains again, and I’ll give you a good reason to jerk.”

  Shail lowered his head, tucking it into his wing.

  “Mollie’s right. You do have some brains.”

  “Don’t hurt him, Gus,” Mollie said and hurried out of the freighter and rushed to the cage.