by Wendy Reakes
Bill picked up the black bag filled with dead finches and sparrows. “I’ll throw this lot in the bin around the corner,” he said to Harry.
Harry stood watching next to the door, like a royal sentry with a shotgun in hand. The mist still covered the ground, but it was getting lighter now.
Bill came back in record time. He placed his hand on Harry's arm. "Come and see this,” he said quietly, not wanting anyone in the house to hear.
They walked together, tentatively, crossing the drive towards the barn. The two big doors were open. The barn was the size of an aircraft hangar. Huge.
They stood at the door and as the rising sun filtered its light inside, they looked up to see thousands upon thousands of birds, covering every rafter and beam and every bale of hay. They were looking downward at the two figures standing in the entrance.
As Bill looked upwards to the threat they now faced, Harry muttered, “We need to leave.”
Chapter 33
It was morning and Ellen couldn’t wait to get out of there. They had survived the night in the cellar, not sleeping, just waiting and worrying, and talking and breathing as if they’d never breath again.
At six am, she approached Mark Shark guarding the door. “Time to let me out,” she said.
Tired, he nodded and stepped aside. Everyone rose to their feet and waited for the door to open so that they could flee their confines and go back home.
Ellen was first in line, but she took the two waitresses with her, protecting them, keeping them with her as they climbed the stairs to the door at the top. Ellen placed her hands on it. She wanted out, but she was also cautious since there could be birds on the other side. She looked back, to the queue of people behind her. Then she took a deep breath, threw the bolt at the top and opened the door.
Inside the restaurant, a breeze hit her face as she assessed the damage as complete destruction. The rest of the people filtered out through the door of the cellar, tired and disheveled, smelling of sweat and fear.
The restaurant looked as it had never looked before. Tables overturned, broken glass, and dead birds lying around randomly. The glazed doors were smashed, and they had broken the windows around the porch at the side, making their way in from there through the glass inner door. The bodies from the previous afternoon’s attack were still lying in rows, as they’d been left with their faces covered.
Behind her, a woman shrieked as a dead bird dropped from a light fitting on the ceiling and hit her on the shoulder. She brushed her arms down as if she’d been sprinkled with poison.
Some people walked through the debris, cautiously. The chefs went into the kitchen, but Ellen went straight outside. She would drive home, get the kids and decide what to do. Maybe Harry would come back early from his weekend in Cornwall. He would help her make a decision about what to do. She imagined his face when he saw the restaurant. He would throw a blue fit.
When Ellen got outside to the pavement running along the river, to where her car was parked, she thought she was walking amid an apocalyptic nightmare.
Naively, she’d assumed, that whilst they had hidden in the cellar out of harm’s way, the emergency services would have cleared the streets of debris. But, reality hit in the face when she walked out and saw bodies everywhere, draped over benches, lying in the road, hanging out of cars, their eyes plucked out with caked blood covering their sightless faces. The scene was the result of utter carnage, as if a hydrogen bomb had gone off and killed all the people. And what of her children? What of her babies? What had happened to them? Had they…?
Then Ellen stepped out of character and lost her calm.
In the middle of the street, normally filled with rushing traffic, Ellen Fear screamed, filling the void of the silence.
And she screamed.
And she screamed.
Chapter 34
“You have to leave,” Bill said to Dolly.
“Leave? And go where?”
“Up north. Maybe to your sister’s in Portishead. Stay with her for a few days.”
“Without you, you mean?”
“I do.”
She shook her head. “I’m not leaving without you.”
“I can’t leave the stock…I have to see to…”
“Bill Hock. You want to put the cattle before your own family. Is that right?”
He groaned. Dolly was a hard one to get passed. “If I leave the farm, what will happen to it? We’ll have nothing to come back to.”
“We’ll worry about that when the time comes. Let the cows out on the field to graze. They’ll have to go without milking.”
She stepped towards him. They were alone in the hall with the door closed, hoping the children wouldn't hear. "You don't understand, do you?" she said. "You are my life. If I don't have you, I'll have nothing. Not even the children, God bless them, would fill that void. You hear me, Bill Hock? Now, no more talking about us going our separate ways. Hear me?"
He took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “I don’t know what else to do. I can’t let you and mother, and the children stay. Me and Harry were thinking that maybe it won’t be as bad up north, and maybe the attacks have been concentrated on the fishing villages around the south coast. You know gulls coming to the mainland for food.”
“I understand what you’re saying. That we can’t stay here. We have no protection…”
“And we’ll run out of supplies if we can’t get out.”
She put her hand over her cheek and looked to the floor. She always did that when she was thinking things through. “What are Harry’s intentions?”
“He wants to go back to Bristol to get Melanie proper care. His car is a soft top. He’s worried about the birds attacking the car. So, I’ve said he can take Arthur’s truck.”
“I don’t know about that, Bill. Without proper permission…”
“They don’t need it now, love.”
She shook her head as if she wanted to brush off any thoughts of their dead friends. “I realise that…of course. But, won’t the relatives have something to say about it? I mean, do you think it’s right that we take their property without asking? We haven’t even reported it yet, Bill. To the police, I mean.”
Bill frowned as he absorbed her logic. He leaned down and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Dolly, do you understand what’s happening here?” he said. “If the birds are attacking the population, we could all be wiped out within a month. We’ll all be dead. We won’t need any vehicles.”
“But the government won’t let that happen. They’ll sort it out, Bill.”
He shook his head. “No Dolly, that’s not how it is. This is a disaster on the grandest scale. When old Bob down the pub said it was the end of the world, he wasn’t far off. It really could be the end, you see.”
“I’m thinking it will stop as quickly as it started, Bill. That the birds will realize that they’re on the wrong track.”
He shook his head with sheer amazement that Dolly could be thinking that the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared. “We have to leave, love. Okay? We have to get the family away. I can’t protect us here.”
“Then let’s go with Harry and Melanie. We can take the truck and leave Arthur’s pick-up where it is. It will be better for Harry. If he was alone, and Melanie got restless, he’d have a lot on his plate.”
“All right, love,” Bill said. “We’ll do that then.”
She nodded as she thought the whole matter through.
“Get the children ready. You can pack a few things, but you have to be quick.”
“All right, Bill.”
“I’ll let the others know.” He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “We’re going to be okay, Dolly Hock, all right?”
“Yes, Bill. I’m sure you’re right.”
Chapter 35
Harry began loading the truck. It had a hard top over the back, which Bill had taken from a dilapidated garage at the side of the barn. “I’ve never had cause to use it,” he said “but it came wit
h the vehicle when I bought it. I think it will be useful, to keep everything protected from the birds if they try it on.”
“Dolly came out with a pile of blankets. “These may be useful.” She handed them to Harry. He put them inside the cab. It was a seven-seater. Room for them all.
“Don’t worry about your fine car,” Dolly said to Harry. “Bill can put it in the barn until we come back. Then we could have it sent up to you. She turned to Bill. “We could do that couldn’t we Bill?”
He looked as if he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he said “Aye.”
Harry realized that Dolly thought the whole thing was temporary. That soon everything would go back to normal. Bill had already told him not to say anything about the birds in the barn. They’d shut the big doors on them earlier and if they wanted to fly away, they could, through the hole in the roof they’d created.
“Just pray they won’t attack,” Bill had said.
That’s why the two men were keeping their eyes peeled for any movement while they packed the truck.
“I’ve got a box of supplies here,” Dolly said bringing out a plastic box with a lid. “If we don’t use it, my sister will be glad of the extras.”
Harry took it from her and slid on the back of the truck.
“We’re just going up to the cottage to get Harry and Melanie’s bags,” Bill said. “We’ll be back in five minutes. Be ready to leave straight away.”
Bill and Harry returned in a hurry. The children came out of the house dressed for the journey and climbed into the back of the cab.
Bill heard a meow. The cat! "I can't leave it, daddy," said Lucy. He stroked her hair. There was no time to worry about it now.
Gladys came out next, with Melanie on her arm. There was a big difference in their ages, but right then they couldn’t have been more alike. Melanie practically shuffled along while her foot was bandaged inside a pair of old slippers. She had a coat around her. Harry recognized it as the one he’d used to stuff between the stairs and the armoire. He hoped she couldn’t smell birds on it.
Bill had placed barbwire around the windows. Now, it looked like an army barracks protected from invasion. All that was missing were sandbags. Harry knew how close he was to the picture he’d formed in his mind. An air-raid.
None of them had any idea what they would face on the roads ahead, but whatever it was, as long as he got back to Bristol and his family, Harry was prepared to do whatever it took.
He got into the passenger seat while Bill locked the door to the house. Dolly, Gladys and Melanie sat on the back seats with blankets over their laps. They were ready. They were all ready. “Did you try the radio?” Dolly asked.
Harry nodded while he kept his eyes on the sky. “Nothing much coming through. Maybe when we get more inland, we’ll pick up some signals on our mobiles. And I have Melanie’s laptop. We can try the internet if we find Wi-Fi.”
“Bill, why do you look so upset?” Dolly asked. “Is it because you’re leaving the cows?”
Bill looked at Harry. “I’ll tell you about it later, my love,” Bill said to Dolly. Then, before he threw the gears into drive, they heard a dog bark.
A black and white collie strolled up the drive looking as if he’d come for a visit.
Bill ushered the dog into the back with the children. He settled there between them, enjoying the brisk rubbing of his fur.
Bill climbed back into the driver’s seat and closed the door. “That’s Arthur Reed’s dog,” he said to Harry as he pulled away and drove slowly and carefully along the drive.
End of part three
Part four
Chapter 36
As they drove along the road beyond the farm, they went past the estate where Dolly had been raised. Bill slowed the car when he saw through the trees that most of the windows on the estate were broken. He turned to look at Dolly and Gladys. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said.
“You think they all got out, Bill?” Gladys asked.
“Aye,” he lied. He thought about the children he’d dropped off after school on Friday. All Toby’s and Lucy’s friends, and their families. Probably with nowhere else to go, many of them would be dead now. The birds couldn’t be kept out of those modern houses. The walls were as thin as paper. He’d said that often enough.
He put his foot down. He wanted to stop in town before they left. Maybe pick up another first aid box from the chemist. Maybe they could drop in on the doctor too, just so he could give Melanie a quick look over. A tetanus jab would help. And he could give Gladys one at the same time. It wouldn’t take a minute.
Just as he arrived at the junction that turned left into the village, they saw vehicles abandoned at the side of the road. He recognized one of the cars. A silver Ford Transit. It belonged to the doc. As he crawled passed the vehicles, with his arm leaning out of the open window, Bill wondered where he was. He gently touched his brakes when, through a gap in the cars, he saw them.
He stopped, keeping the motor running. “Stay in the truck,” he said to everyone in the back.
Harry got out with him, closing the passenger door quietly. Already, they had learned not to make any sudden movement and unnecessary noise. They walked slowly between the cars at the side of the road. Lying on the grass, in a single row, as if someone had laid them out for burial, were over a dozen people: men, women and children, all dead. They each had their coats thrown over their faces, and by that alone, Bill could tell that, after the birds had gone, and it was safe, the others had returned and covered them over. One last gesture from the survivors of the onslaught.
Bill saw Harry bend over them with his head down as if he was praying. He removed a coat from one, but the sight of the man's face -what was left of it- sickened him and he quickly placed it back over him.
A child, a girl, had white bandages over both legs. Even with her face covered, Bill knew it was the doctor’s daughter. She had been playing in the park when the birds had attacked yesterday. She’d suffered many lesions on the backs of her legs, down to the bone. Now she was dead, alongside her mother and siblings. Bill crouched down and lifted the coat from the corpse lying next to her. It was the doctor with his eyes plucked out. Bill covered him back up, as he looked over to the truck where Dolly was gazing through the window. Thank god, she couldn't see the bodies behind the cars. Two of the dead were unrecognizable, but he knew the others were some of the locals from The Red Lion. The Landlord's wife was also there. She was bare-chested as her clothes lay in tatters. Blood covered her breasts and there were two black holes where her nipples used to be. He couldn't look anymore. He turned away and threw his guts up in the grass.
Harry patted him on the shoulder as he wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. He pointed to the trees in the distance. They were moving, and it wasn’t the wind causing it.
They drove into the village, almost not making it. The roads were packed with abandoned cars and other vehicles, but Bill knew a shortcut where the streets led down to the water’s edge and the harbor. The back roads were clear, so Bill was able to get the truck through.
He parked outside the chemist on the front. The doctor’s office was across the street, opposite the Red Lion, all closed up, with no noise of revelry filtering through the silence of the morning. It was a far cry from how it was yesterday when he’d gone in for a pint with the locals. Now all the windows were smashed and the old wooden door, years old, like the building, had been pecked at so much, splinters hung off it in shreds.
The village was like a ghost town. Everyone had left, closing up their shops and houses and fled. He had never seen the village so quiet, except maybe late at night, but even then, the pub was usually still open. Now, he could see only smashed windows and broken tiles on roofs over the colored houses going up to the hills. Above them, were the rich folks' homes with their panoramic windows, shattered, as if a perfect storm had happened and the wind had left its calling card. But it hadn't been the wind that had broken them. It was the birds, and now the
y were gone after they'd wreaked havoc over the town Bill had grown up in.
The surf was up, crashing over the boats, making them rock on their anchors. Two were overturned. Above, not one seagull hovered. It was rare not to hear a seabird or two looking for spoils. Not to see fishing boats coming back to the harbor with their catch, not to see tourists walking around aimlessly, taking in the view and the traditional Cornish atmosphere.
The ice-cream parlor on the corner was devastated. Dead birds were scattered about, and human blood ran into melted cornets lying on the floor. Inside, draped over the counter as if she'd stopped serving for a minute to take a nap, was the owner, a woman who had moved there only two years before to start her own business. Now she had nothing. Not even her life.
He looked out to sea, where dark mounds floated on the waves, looking like the backs of turtles.
Harry was at his side with a pair of binoculars.
“What are they?” Bill asked, pointing.
Harry brought them down as if his eyes had been deceiving him. He handed the binoculars to Bill, who gasped when he identified the ‘mounds' as dead bodies floating on the sea, about thirty or forty of them, bobbing over the waves and against the harbor walls.
He heard the truck door close. When he turned, he saw Dolly walking towards him, “Get back in the car, love,” he called.
She kept walking and stopped next to him with her eyes on the drifting mounds. “Bill Hock. I understand you want to protect me, but please stop treating me like a child. I know the dangers. And my eyes can see well enough what’s happened in the village.” They still called it a village, even though it was made a town four-hundred years ago. Now, it wasn’t even that. It was nothing. Just the dregs of the place it once used to be. Bill wondered if it would ever come back to life. If the attacks stopped, would the ones who’d escaped come back to pick up where they’d left off. Would Cornwall ever be the same again?
