Taken (Erin Bowman)

going, but I don’t stop. The crow is ahead, fleeing, and I race after his black form, running until I can duck behind the safety of a broad chimney.
    I pant for a moment, attempt to catch my breath. My ears still ring and a stitch has formed in my side. I brush the blood from the side of my face with my shoulder and spend an awkward moment grappling with the keys. I find the one that fits my metal links, and swing each jaw open, freeing my hands.
    I wait a moment longer, and then I run. The crow has disappeared and I am on my own. I sprint toward the sun, clambering down the varying levels of roof as I do. When I come to the lowest level, I am still rather far from the ground. The drop is not impossible, but I could break something. As I sit there, breathless and weighing my options, a dark shape appears on the horizon, beyond Taem’s dome.
    At first, I think it is a bird, another crow maybe. But it is flying too quickly, and it is incredibly loud, an angry roar growing as it approaches the city. And there is not one but four. They soar in a precise line, wings never flapping. Soon they are directly overhead and the noise is unbearable. I cup my hands over my ears.
    The first of the strange birds drops something, an abnormal egg tearing toward Taem’s dome. It hits with a monstrous clamor. The sound echoes through my ears, the world seems to shake. The sky is momentarily brilliant. The other birds drop their eggs as well, one right after the other. Taem’s dome holds.
    The birds speed overhead, circling around. I catch an odd marking on their sides; a red triangle, like the Franconian emblem, only this one has a blue circle in its center, and a white star in place of the Order’s cursive f .
    A series of alarms erupt behind me, ringing through Union Central. They are almost immediately echoed in downtown Taem. The noise is an endless shrieking, a sound of panic, of fear. I don’t need to be told that these flying contraptions are the enemy Frank spoke of or that his words regarding AmWest were honest and true.
    As the birds flip on their sides and navigate their turn, several cars emerge from below me. They are large green things, much bulkier than the one Emma and I traveled in when we were brought to Taem. These models have flat tops and hinged doors on their rear.
    “Head downtown!” I hear someone shout from below the roof. “We are Code Red.”
    As the cars weave hastily toward Union Central’s gates, the birds attack Taem’s dome a second time. The roof beneath me vibrates, but again the barrier holds.
    The man giving instructions, now in view, starts waving out a new stream of cars. “This batch to the Great Forest. Now!”
    The map from Frank’s records flashes in my mind. The Great Forest lying beyond Taem, the suspected Rebel headquarters nestled somewhere in its dense northern mountains. Rebels mean safety from Frank and the potential for answers by way of Harvey. And at the moment, I need both.
    Rather than heading downtown, the second group of cars wraps around Union Central, heading for a different exit. I’m on my feet instinctively, chasing it. Taem’s dome lurches under a new attack and I nearly lose my footing from the resulting tremor.
    The cars turn away from the building and onto a dirt road, and I see my only chance. I jump from the roof and onto the last vehicle. Pain shoots through my right ankle. There’s nothing to grab hold of, and I’m sent sliding toward the rear of the car, thrown off as it hits a bump. I scramble to my feet.
    The car is moving slowly because of the terrain and I manage to catch up to it. I twist open the back door and it swings wildly. I force myself to go faster, and when the timing is right, I jump into the rear of the vehicle just before the door slams shut.
    I collapse on the floor. The car doesn’t slow.
    Gear bags are scattered about, and a series of crates marked with the Franconian emblem are stacked neatly in one corner. A row of large, slender guns is mounted to the wall of the vehicle. There are no windows, no way for the driver to see me. For now I am safe.
    As we jerk over uneven ground, I think of Emma, alone in a prison cell, and me, running from her. I tell myself that I can’t help her if I’m dead, that she will understand why I had to leave. This is the only way. Get safe, get a plan, then return for her. AmWest’s attack may have been conveniently timed with my escape, but if Taem is at risk, Emma is as well. For her sake, I