When She Flew Read Online Free Page B

of the flight feathers on his wings kept tucked at his side like closed fans.
    When he turned his head toward me, I saw the black stripe behind his eyes. He looked right at me and didn’t flinch, so I came out from behind the trees, still keeping my distance as I followed him into a clearing.
    And then I woke from my trance and realized I was too near the trail. I could hear people talking, and so could my heron. His head swiveled toward the sound, and then a wide woman with short gray hair appeared from behind a stand of alders across the clearing, binoculars pinned to her eyes, and she said in a loud whisper, “Hey, everybody, look! What’s that creature doing in the woods?”
    A crowd of other people gathered around her, slinging binoculars to their faces, and I heard a flapping, whooshing sound. I looked back at the heron and he’d already lifted from the ground, his long twig legs and feet trailing behind him as he flew up to roost in the treetops.
    “Oh, no, we scared it,” the woman said. As I turned to run, I heard her say, “Oh, my land, look over there! What is that girl doing here all alone? Where are her parents? Hey, you, little girl, are you all right?”
    Then I heard a man give out a yell and someone began to crash through the brush after me.
    I ran and ran toward home, as fast as I could until I could no longer hear anyone behind me. I found a deer trail in case they tried to follow me up the creek. I was stunned at how far I’d walked downhill; it had felt like only a few moments, but it took me forever to get back home, running up and up the hill, out of breath, my legs cramping. All I could think was, Pater told me so. He told me not to wander around daydreaming or I’d get too close.
    For one small moment, I thought maybe seeing the great blue heron was worth it. But then I saw Pater’s face as he saw me, panicked and running into camp, and I wished I could take that thought back.

3
    J ess adjusted the bulky flak vest under her uniform shirt and strapped on her duty belt. The locker room was empty except for her. She was late for her afternoon shift,     With gear in place, Jess glanced at her blue polyester behind in the mirror on the opposite wall. Even without all the equipment, her butt would look huge in the unflattering man pants. She sighed and slammed her locker shut, then sprinted out the door and up the steps to the briefing room, boots clunking loudly as she twisted her dark hair back into an elastic band. Maybe it was good to always be on the run. She was thirty-eight and couldn’t just skip a dinner or two anymore to get back into size twelve uniform pants.
    Sergeant Everett was doing the briefing, his drone recognizable through the closed door. Jess stopped, took a breath, then pushed into the conference room. Everyone looked up. She mumbled an apology and slid into an empty seat at the end of the table next to Officer Ellis Jenkins. He’d been her partner when the city still had enough money to send them out in pairs, and he was still her closest friend on the force.
    The sergeant shot Jess a look from the front of the room, then returned to his report. From across the table, Officer Ann Madison handed her a stack of composite drawings that had already circulated.
    “Thanks, Maddy,” Jess whispered, and thumbed through the drawings. There he was, right on top: the six-foot-tall sex-assault suspect in various iterations, based on three frightened and traumatized girls’ memories. His MO was to nab his victim as she was walking home from school, assault her in his car, then dump her in a park or forested area. The violence involved had been increasing; the last girl had been strangled