The Birds, They're Back

by Wendy Reakes

  In all his days, Bill had never seen anything like it. His children in mortal danger. It didn’t get any more real than that. He had to save them. He had to take them home to Dolly.

  He had Lucy next to him. He’d placed his sweater over her head and told her to look down to the ground, to his feet. She should follow his feet, ‘Nothing else, do you hear me? Just my feet.”

  He had to find Toby. Where was he? Where was he? Then he spotted him. He was inside the pub. His boy was safe. He crushed Lucy to his side as he charged over the road.

  He saw Harry hauling two girls into a nearby car. Now he had a bird on his back. He turned and slammed his back against the car, crushing that bird.

  Warm, odorous feathers fluttered past Bill’s face, talons came towards him like eagles landing. The sound disgusted him. It was like nothing he’d heard before except maybe down on the beach when seagulls came in for a piece of bread offered by a tourist. But this was high pitched screeching, not human, not normal, as if the children were lambs to the slaughter. Sweet pickings.

  He reached the pub and guided Lucy inside. He was rough with her, but that didn’t matter. Now she was safe.

  He had to go back and find the mother with the pram. He had to save her, if no one else.

  He saw her. She had the baby in her arms, covering its head with a blanket. A bird landed on the baby’s back. The mother was sobbing, not knowing what to do. She was in front of a red telephone box. Her back was against the door, but she couldn’t see for the density of the birds and her blind panic. Bill reached her and moved her aside, knocking away the birds. He pulled open the door and pushed her in where she crouched in the corner clutching her baby.

  Bill pushed the door tightly closed. His body would stop the birds from reaching her.

  A bird came at his face. He swore they looked into each other’s eyes, begging for a fight. Before it could reach him, he struck out with his fist and punched that bird under its beak. It fell, stunned to the floor and he gave it another swift kick.

  They were everywhere. It was carnage in the first degree. There was no controlling it. It was death flying around unhindered. It was war. The war of the birds, he put in his head.

  Then they stopped. They just stopped.

  They flew away content, happy they’d forced their presence on the earth and that no one could deter them. Happy with the carnage they had reeked. Happy to live another day to plan another attack.

  Bill fell to the floor on his knees. Placing his hands on the cold concrete to support his dwindling strength.

  The screaming continued, but this time it was the people.

  Chapter 17

  Ellen’s phone wasn’t working. No signal. She had to get hold of the kids. She had to know if they were alright. The landline had been cut off, there was no communication all round. She used someone else’s phone. Nothing.

  It was now five o’clock. The light outside was dimming. She had to get home. She had to, but they wouldn’t let her.

  The restaurant was in shambles.

  The men, the ones who had taken charge, had up-ended the tables to cover the broken glass in the windows. The victims of the siege had been dragged inside. The men in charge had kept their eyes on the sky while the dead were lined up along a wall, their faces covered with anything they could find. Some had chef's cloths taken from the kitchen, the blood quickly soaking through. The relationship between the two was distasteful, Ellen thought as she promised to never eat again.

  Every time she looked at them, she tried to run outside, but they prevented her from leaving. ‘Too dangerous,’ they said…the ones in charge. They were being cautious and responsible. Ellen knew that, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get home to her kids. She tried Harry’s phone a million and one times. Nothing. No signal.

  From the television on the wall in the corner…the government had called a state of emergency. The news flashed images from around the world. Europe and parts of Asia. Images of carnage that were hard to believe, looking like scenes from a disaster movie. Then the TV went off.

  The power was out.

  The darkness surrounding them was stifling.

  They lit candles.

  They talked.

  They decided it wasn’t safe in the restaurant. That they should move down to the cellar level.

  Ellen wanted to leave. To take her chances. To get home to her kids.

  But they wouldn’t let her.

  Chapter 18

  Bill tried his phone, but as usual, he couldn't get a signal. He went into the Red Lion and used their landline. No dialling tone. Nothing. God, he hoped Dolly and his mother were all right. Maybe the birds hadn't attacked up at the farm. Maybe.

  He saw Jack, the landlord, kneeling next to the body of Mrs Gates, the woman who ran the bird watching club. She was peaceful, with no marks to the cause of her death.

  “Heart attack,” he said. “Right before my eyes.” He stared up at Bill. “Ironic, eh?”

  Bill squeezed his shoulder before he went back outside.

  To the aftermath.

  Dead birds lay around the street. People were kicking their carcasses in unspent rage.

  Car windows were smashed.

  Injuries were being seen to. The doctor was out of his depth. He’d opened his surgery and commandeered helpers. Queues formed outside.

  Where were the emergency services? Where were they?

  He saw Harry Fear and his missus. They were walking slowly through the debris. He had a cut on his arm. A handkerchief was tied around it.

  Bill blocked his path. He wanted to shake his hand. “Thank you, for helping me. Not many would have done that,” he said.

  “Are the children okay?”

  “Aye.” He nodded towards the ice-cream parlour. “Having ice-cream with the others.”

  He chuckled. “If only that was the cure for everyone else.”

  Bill nodded. “Aye. I’m taking them back to the farm. Come with us.”

  The woman said, “I think we should get back to Bristol, Harry.”

  He looked to the floor. He knew what Bill was thinking.

  “It would be suicide at this hour,” Bill said. “Better in the morning, when things have settled down.

  She reluctantly agreed.

  Harry was looking at his phone. Dead now. “Have you got a signal?”

  Bill shook his head. “No, nothing.”

  Chapter 19

  Matt Fear told Holly to place a cover over the lovebirds. They seemed agitated and he didn't know why. "I want mum," Holly said.

  “She’s down at the restaurant, Holl. You know that.”

  She grabbed the phone and started dialling. Then she slammed it down again. “I want mum.”

  “Brat,” he muttered before he left the kitchen and went back into the sitting room.

  Gemma and her friends were doing homework in her room. Who did homework at weekends? Matt thought as he threw himself down on the couch next to Sim and Franko. They had the controllers. It would be his turn in a minute. The glare of the sun had prompted him to close the curtains, something his mother never allowed him to do in the day. Now they could see the screen better. FIFA, their favourite game, bar none. And while they watched, they kept the commentators up on a pop-up screen in the corner. A group of lads like them, looking for a laugh, a good time, whilst playing FIFA. He'd begged his mother for a TV in his room, but she wouldn't have it. He could hear her nagging voice now, "We're not going down that road, Matt," she'd said.

  “As opposed to the drug route, you mean?”

  “What?”

  “Well, some mothers say that to their kids about drugs and drink. “Don’t go down that road?” he mimicked her with a high-pitched tone.

  “What’s your point?” she sighed. He made her sigh a lot.

  “You’re lucky I haven’t gone down that road. Jesus, all I want to do is play FIFA in peace and quiet.”

  “Yes, and you’re obsessed with it.”

  “As op
posed to drugs and drink you mean?”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind,” he threw back at her as he stormed off.

  Matt resented it. He was seventeen now. He should be able to make his own decisions. Yes, FIFA had a hold on him, he couldn’t deny that, but there were worst things he could do. Look at his mates he hung out with at college. They all smoked and drank. Ellen should be grateful she had such an upstanding citizen for a son. Truth was, he couldn’t stand the taste of alcohol. He tried it once when they were down in the restaurant with the old man. Made him sick as a dog. And smoking! He hated the smell. He got called a tosser by his mates, but when he finally admitted he couldn’t stand the stuff, they accepted him for that particular weakness.

  No, FIFA was his bag, and even though he was an addict, it wasn’t as bad as the rest of the people he hung out with. Except they were addicted to their X-boxes too.

  Sim passed him the controller.

  As he put his feet up on the coffee table and hit the start button, Moll appeared at the side of him with her thumb in her mouth. “I want mum,” she said.

  End of part two

  Part three

  Chapter 20

  Bill rolled up at the farm and saw Arthur Reed's pickup parked outside. Thank God, Dolly and his mother weren't alone. He knew Arthur would look out for them. "I'll run you up to the cottage, shall I?" he asked the city folk.

  “Yes, please,” Harry’s missus said

  Bill was just about to pass when he spotted Gladys coming out of the house waving like a mad woman. He did an emergency stop and pulled on the handbrake. "Alright, mother?" he shouted above her yelling. The children got out of the truck and rushed inside the house. They were still traumatised, but they were resilient, and that ice-cream had gone down a treat.

  “Quick, Bill. It’s our Dolly.”

  He ran past her and went inside. She wasn’t in the kitchen where he normally found her. He heard the children call her name, mum. Their voices were coming from the sitting room off the kitchen.

  She was flat out on the sofa. Bill couldn’t remember another time when he saw Dolly flat out on the sofa. The only place she ever slept was in bed, at night. The image seemed off in his wondering mind. “What happened?”

  She began to cry and Dolly never cried much. He sat down next to her. The children were at her side on the floor. They were pressing their faces into her shoulder. “Where have you been?” Dolly sobbed.

  "In town. The birds attacked. But we're all right. Is that why you're fretting? Where's Arthur?"

  “He’s gone, Bill.”

  That confused him. “But he didn’t take his pick-up.”

  Gladys came in and took the children. “Come on, let’s put some tea on.”

  Now they were alone. “What happened, love?” he asked as he held her hand. He knew there was something else. He could see it in her eyes.

  She took a big gulp as if her throat had seized up. Her eyes were red and puffy like she'd been crying for hours. Bill had a sense of foreboding, but that seemed to be a natural occurrence lately. "I went across the meadow to reach the lane," she said. "I got about a mile along when I saw a dog barking up at the trees.” She wiped her eyes with a scrunched-up tissue. He dreaded what was coming. It must have something to do with the dog.

  “A flock of crows attacked him. It was terrible, Bill, just terrible.”

  He squeezed her hand for reassurance. His poor Dolly.

  “Then its owner came out of the trees and tried shooting those birds, but he must have caught the dog too, I reckon. What do you think, Bill?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll go up and…”

  She shook her head. “That’s not all. They went for him then…the man. They covered him as if they were eating him, like those vampires in that film we saw at the pictures.”

  He nodded. He knew the one she meant. The one with Tom Cruise and that fella in the tunnel.

  “I thought they were going to come after me then, but they didn’t. They flew off.”

  “Oh, my love…”

  She shook her head. “I ran to Arthur and Nancy’s. I wanted to come home, but their place was nearer, Bill.” Her voice missed a beat as she sucked in air. “When I got there…” she was sobbing again now.

  “What?” He couldn’t make head or tail of it.

  “They’re dead, Bill. Our Nancy and Arthur. Dead from the birds.”

  It was like a kick in the stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be right. But then she looked deep into his eyes and he knew that what she’d just told him was true.

  Everyone needed to stay calm. Despite his grief, that was Bill’s way of thinking. He’d had a shock. Losing his best friend in such a brutal fashion, was something was beyond his imagination, and until he saw them for himself, he had no choice but to stay calm and get everything sorted out.

  Harry Fear was outside talking to Gladys when Bill went out. “I need to go up to my neighbour’s farm. Can you come with me?” he felt his voice shaking. He coughed to clear it.

  Harry didn’t hesitate. He was already on his way to the truck. Bill appreciated him being there. To have another man around was a big bonus. And Harry was a good man.

  "Where's your missus?" Bill asked as he climbed into the truck. Then he saw her walk out of the house, having used the bathroom.

  “Harry, where are you going?” she called.

  “Melanie, stay here. We have to go out for five minutes. Stay with Bill’s mother and his wife.”

  She was shaking her head. Bill felt bad taking her man away. It was supposed to be their holiday. “Don’t leave me,” she called. She was still upset from the incident in the park. They were all upset.

  Harry slammed the door and called out through the open window. "We'll be quick. Don't worry. You'll be all right here."

  “But…”

  Bill pulled away, leaving the women to their own devices. “Thanks for that,” he said.

  “No problem. What’s going on?”

  “Our best friends…” He didn’t want to say the words. “They’re dead.”

  “Man, I’m sorry.”

  He felt the pain of his loss in the pit of his belly, but he knew Harry wanted an explanation. “My missus went over and found them. It was the birds. I need to go over and cover them up. Dolly didn’t have a chance to do it?”

  He nodded. He understood.

  “I can’t make head or tail of all this business, can you?”

  “No, I can’t.” Harry looked straight ahead. “We don’t even know if they’ll attack again.”

  “Maybe they won’t. Maybe that was the last of it. They got what they wanted and now they know they can’t beat the humans. That’s my take on it.”

  “I hope you’re right, Mr Hock. I really do.”

  “The worst thing is, the lack of communication,” Bill said. “I mean, I should be calling the police, shouldn’t I? For my friends, I mean. I can’t just leave them there, can I?”

  “Maybe lock up the house, and then the police will probably come on Monday. They’ll be pushed to do anything over the weekend.”

  "Aye, all right. We'll do that, then."

  There was a part of Bill that wondered if Dolly had got the whole thing wrong and that he’d find Arthur and Nancy alive and well after all.

  Chapter 21

  Harry watched Bill Hock cover his friends with sheets. They'd taken them into a room that hadn't been disturbed by the birds. Arthur Reed’s eyeballs had been pecked out, leaving gaping holes in his face filled with congealed blood. Nancy Reed’s face had practically gone. Amid the dried blood, her nose had been hacked off, leaving the bones and cartilage. Her lips had been torn away and her eyes, like her husband's, were just bloodied black holes. Dolly’s girlfriend was unrecognisable, Harry thought, before he threw up in the kitchen sink.

  They carried their bodies into the spare bedroom and laid them side by side. Then, as Harry left, Bill muttered a prayer and pulled a sheet over their faces.

&nb
sp; When he came out, closing the door softly, he met Harry in the hall. “I moved the wardrobe over the window in the bedroom,” Bill said.

  Harry nodded. He knew Bill wanted to protect his friend's bodies from further abuse. "They'll be all right until Monday."

  Bill nodded. “Aye.”

  “Do you want to do anything else?”

  “I’ll just grab a couple of blankets. There’s a man and his dog along the lane. They were attacked too, my wife said. I’d like to cover them up. Dolly will feel better if I do that.”

  Bill went back into the room where he’d found his friend Arthur, sitting up against the wall. He opened a cupboard and took a pile of sheets. “These will do.”

  Just as he closed the cupboard door, they both heard a noise.

  Bill and Harry went back out to the corridor. It was dark, so Harry tried the lights. No power. Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable in that stranger’s house with two corpses in the next room. He preferred to get back than chasing birds or whatever had made that noise. And Melanie would be worried. Without thinking, he put his hand on Bill’s shoulder, and the big guy jumped out of his skin with fright. “I’m sorry,” Harry muttered. “Perhaps we should find a torch.”

  “Under the sink in the kitchen.”

  Harry went past the pool of blood on the floor under the table and found the torch just where Bill said it would be. When he went back and shone the light along the hall, Bill opened the door to the room at the end. Then a black and white cat strolled out.

  Bill picked it up, just as they heard another noise above them, coming from the attic.

  Harry looked above him to a hatch. “There’s something in the loft.”

  Bill held the cat under his arm, while Harry took a chair from the bedroom. Then he stood on it and pushed up the loft hatch.

  He shone the torch. The beam of light went straight to a hole in the roof and then down to the floor, where, over everything stored up there, over rafters and beams, were hundreds of birds, nesting.