Yes, I have rewritten part 16 (the last part I posted). This is why I missed a week. I was having story problems…hopefully they are fixed now. Sorry for the inconsistencies (I can only wonder how Charles Dickens did it).
He didn’t slow his feet. He wanted to look over but he didn’t. The only thing he could tell was that the vehicle wasn’t a cop car; out of the corner of his eye it looked like a blue van.
But it drove a little ahead of him, and then the driver rolled down the window. But the driver called to someone else on the sidewalk. She turned and the car stopped. Elijah maneuvered over as she ran up to the door.
He breathed a sigh of relief; it had nothing to do with him.
But it reminded him that the Correlation would be on the lookout. He had to get out of the city as fast as he could.
He kept walking along the sidewalk. He knew the only way for him to travel fast was fly; fly in full sight of everyone over a busy city in full sunlight. He had put it out of his mind, like he always did, but he always came back to it. The best thing he could do was at least take off in secret; a patch of woods would be good, probably near a highway.
He quickly got off the busy street and pulled out the map he had bought.
He leaned against a cement wall. That was at least cool, since it was still in the shade. He searched for a highway, and found Mclean. Then quickly rolled the map back up.
He have a sigh of resignation and looked up. Even if he flew high enough, nothing would hide him; there were no clouds in sight.
He shot up straight and fast to the sky. The hazy blue swallowed him up and made his turn into a speck from which the earth could watch.
And for a moment his head cleared as he slowed out of his spiral, and fell into the back of wind. His wings caught the current. He closed his eyes for a moment. The sun flushed hot gold on his back, but the air was cool in his lungs.
He opened his eyes again. He dipped and dived and caught a quicker current. He could see the road running like a grey snake below him, the road that led to McLean. From there he would be able to find Langley, and then the headquarters.
He pushed his wings and dived up and down again. He didn’t have time for a soft glide; so from a distance he looked like a hawk on the chase.
Once he saw the patchwork of Mclean above him, he flew up north, darting for Langley. A circle of trees and woods designated the area of the headquarters for him; including the view of a huge complex and neatly crowded parking lots, just tiny dots from his view.
He began to circle once he was above it. The sun was at its peak, sometime in the afternoon. It lighted up the area for Elijah.
Slowly, slowly, he turned his circling downwards. He wondered if anyone had their eye to the sky, or if anyone was watching a satellite; he supposed a bird as large as himself would show up.
He let himself down to the front of the complex, and chose one of the higher roofs on either side of the long, flat entrance.
He brought up his wings and tucked up his bad leg. Then he landed as softly as he could and threw himself flat on his stomach; the roof was warm from the sun.
He waited a moment. He glanced around. His eyes squinted, but he could see that the roof was two levels, and there seemed to be no hatch on this top one.
He crawled forward to the edge, towards the inner side of the roof.
He looked over. The hatch was right there; he didn’t looked at it long though, the sun burned down on the white surface.
He got down from the first roof, it was hardly higher than him. He laid down again and crawled forward to the hatch.
He had no idea if he would be able to open it. If not, he’d have to fly through a window.
He reached forward and tugged at it; it was hot too. But it didn’t budge. It looked a little rusted and in need of repair.
“Locked,” he said under his breath. He looked back when he heard a door open and someone walk out.