Abstraction ➳ Owen Grady

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DR. ALYSANNE SATTLER leaned against the metal railing of the bridge spanning the Raptor Paddock. Watching the pack of four raptors devour the white rats that Owen tossed down whenever they heeded a command or correctly performed a simple task. It seemed that the raptors were more like parrots or crows that had been trained, or strangely vicious puppies. Echo snapped at Delta. "I don't get it," he said, frustration lacing his words, "they never behave when you're here." Alysanne would have taken it as an insult if she didn't understand the dynamics of the pack. If Barry was right, then they all felt threatened by her presence, especially Blue.

She stepped back from the railing, half standing behind Owen to see if that might makes them listen. It didn't. There was another set of rats in the metal bucket hooked on the side of the railing. Owen raised his clicker, but they wouldn't respond. Groaning at their impertinence, he tossed the remaining rats into the enclosure, "There you stupid birds."

The sun was close to setting, but the sky had already been painted in bright pinks, reds, and oranges despite the dark clouds that lingered on the western side of the island. It would be a stormy summer night. Owen wiped his hands on his thighs and headed toward the stairs. "Want to grab something to eat at the resort?" He asked. It had become a common occurrence for the two of them to spend an evening together at least once a week, whether it be at the resort or grilling something at his bungalow. "I've got some paperwork to turn in over that way before they send the paper police out here again."

Ally laughed. Claire had sent the so-called paper police out for her twice and it was not a pleasant experience. In fact, the first time they had heckled her for a paper, she threatened to quit. Science writing was not a quick or easy process, and others didn't seem to understand that. She followed Owen around the enclosure and stopped in her tracks at seeing him straddle a motorcycle. "We're taking that?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, "what's wrong with a motorcycle?"

"Nothing!" Alysanne said, too quickly and with a certain amount of forcefulness. "I just prefer four wheels," she explained, feeling defensive of the irrational fear. She mounted the Triumph Scrambler behind him and brought her feet up to the foot pegs, impatient to be on their way and to have two feet on the ground again.

"You good back there?" Owen asked and she could hear the smugness in his voice as he cranked the motorcycle, its engine a low deep rumble.

"So long as you don't manage to throw me off," Ally retorted, "I don't fancy a head injury."

"Well hold on," he countered, just glancing over his shoulder. "I won't bite," there was a wide grin on his face, "not unless you ask me too," he added after a moment. Alysanne rolled her eyes, "Unbelievable," she uttered, wrapping her arms around Owen and locking her fingers together on his abdomen.

She had squeezed her eyes closed when they started down the rough, dirt service road and out of instinct she pressed her face further into Owen's back to shield herself from the wind and falling leaves. Ally noticed that the road didn't seem as rough after about ten minutes and it didn't really register that they had stopped moving, her arms were still squeezing him, her cheek pressed into his back with eyes screwed shut.

"Ally," Owen said in a low voice, poking her interlocked fingers, "You can let go now." Her eyes went wide and she quickly pulled her arms back, hoping the tinge of pink that had come to her cheeks wasn't too visible. "Sorry," she mumbled, but he only smiled.

Sunrio was beginning to empty out and the storm was picking up. Even the lights began to flicker after a particularly sharp bolt of lightning. Ally downed the rest of her Matador cocktail as a loud clap of thunder echoed through the building. She didn't particularly like storms. She and Owen stood beneath the awning as the rain came down in hard, pelting sheets. "You can't drive back in this," she said.