The driver nods, wings pulled tight to his sides. Sparing them one last, long look, he tosses the back door open and shuffles into the front seat.
They did it. They got out--they're out, right now. He can make out the shape of the English building through the haze, can point to the window of his own classroom, can see the place where he tripped on the sidewalk and skinned his knee back when he was a dumb freshman trying to make it to class before the bell. They're here, and Tim's got a broken wing and no voice and Jay's got a numb, twisted leg, and they're both still breathing.
Jay looks down at the light at his chest, glowing feebly through a layer of caked-on dirt.
no subject
They did it. They got out--they're out, right now. He can make out the shape of the English building through the haze, can point to the window of his own classroom, can see the place where he tripped on the sidewalk and skinned his knee back when he was a dumb freshman trying to make it to class before the bell. They're here, and Tim's got a broken wing and no voice and Jay's got a numb, twisted leg, and they're both still breathing.
Jay looks down at the light at his chest, glowing feebly through a layer of caked-on dirt.
He switches the camera off.