by Perrin Briar
Bryan dived to one side, rolling over down onto the steep incline below. It was a long fall, but Zoe, Cassie and Aaron were on hand to catch him. He was too heavy and they let him drop, slowly, to the ground. The bird, out of range, honked and reached out with its huge beak, teetering over the side.
The heat blasted the family’s bare skin, sending drifts of coal dust up over them, caking them, turning them into dust devils. The family headed at a horizontal level, perpendicular to the firewall.
“I always dreamed of being bird kibble,” Bryan said with a grin.
Before he could take another step the giant bird’s beak snapped at his legs, caught his ankles, and found his pants leg. Bryan tripped over and hit the hard stone with a meaty slap.
“Euff!” Bryan said.
The bird seized him in its jaws and flapped its powerful wings, buffeting Bryan. The bird began to lift off the rock. Bryan’s body rose. He knew that once his body left the ground, he was doomed. There would be no way for him to scale his way back to the earth.
His fingertips scrabbled across the smooth flat surface, grasping for anything that might give him leverage. He found a tree root and wrapped his hand around it. The vine was tough and dug into his skin. The blood oozed between his fingers. But it held him. For now.
It was already beginning to tear away beneath his grip, its white roots coming out to say hello. Zoe, Cassie and Aaron came running over, arms outstretched to reach for Bryan, to hold him to the ground.
The roots stretched and then snapped under the pure strength of the beast. Bryan roared as he began to rise into the air. He flailed for something—anything—to hold onto, but he was already rising, rising, rising. The bird’s single good claw struggled to maintain its grip, and Bryan began to fall back toward the earth again.
Bryan’s eyes alighted on a rock. If he could just get his hands to it, it might be enough to stop the bird from dragging him away. His fingertips grazed the dirt film over the rock, and his hopes soared. The bird shifted Bryan to one side and retained its grip. It flapped its powerful wings, beating the rest of the family with stinging dirt.
Bryan lifted off again. This time he bounced with his weight to force the bird down, but the bird was having none of it, and took Bryan up into the sky with upward momentum.
“No!” Bryan said. “No!”
He was rising rapidly into the air. Any higher and he wouldn’t be able to descend without incurring serious harm.
There was a tearing sound. Just as Bryan looked up to see its cause, Bryan’s pants ripped along the seam. He fell and made the short distance to the ground. He held out his arms, turning so his shoulder took the worst of the impact.
His head smacked the earth and made his ears ring. He didn’t fall all that far, but the ground was hard and unflinching as rock. Still, Bryan was grateful to be back on solid land.
Lying flat on his back, he could make out the huge flapping form of the bird overhead. Bryan pushed himself onto his feet and ran to rejoin his family.
“Are you all right?” Zoe said. “You fell a long way.”
“I’m fine,” Bryan said. “I only landed on my head.”
In truth, he had no idea if he was fine or not. But he could move, and his body responded to his commands. He would inspect his wounds later, when they were in a safer position.
“We’ll be safe in there,” Zoe said, gesturing to a short tunnel.
The bird was already descending, its single good claw stretching out to snatch its next victim. It screeched like a dozen owls coming in for the kill.
The family dived into the tunnel, the light extinguished as soon as they entered. The giant bird squawked and made a last-minute alteration, beating its wings hard to prevent itself from smashing into the wall. It floated there a moment, blasting clouds of dust into the narrow opening. It glared at the family with its beady black eyes, before screeching and taking off.
The family’s breath was loud with panting in the short corridor. They turned to look at one another and risked small smiles of relief.
“Now what do we do?” Cassie said.
“Now we wait,” Zoe said. “Till the bird is gone.”
“What if it never leaves?” Aaron said.
“Then we’ll be waiting for a very long time,” Bryan said.
4.
PEERING OUT, the landscape looked empty. But of course, there was no telling where the bird might be. It could have been just around the corner, waiting for someone to poke their head out. Or miles away. There was just no way of knowing.
Bryan removed his shirt and wrapped it around a long stick. He eased himself as close to the opening as he dared and then held the stick out. He waved it around, as if it was a person trying to figure out if it was safe to come out yet or not.
“It’s not there,” Zoe said.
Bryan shook his head.
“No,” he said, pulling the stick back in. “It might still be out there, perched farther away where it can’t see our decoy.”
“We could stay here,” Zoe said.
“For how long?” Bryan said.
He felt along the walls of their little cave dwelling. His hands found the thick splintered cracks there.
“Until there’s another earthquake and we get buried alive,” Bryan said. “No thanks. I’d rather take my chances out there, in the open.”
“But the bird might be out there waiting for us,” Zoe said.
“It’s a bird,” Bryan said. “It’s dumb. It will have forgotten about us by now.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Zoe said. “Some birds are known to have amazing memories.”
“One thing is for certain,” Bryan said. “We can’t stay here much longer. There’s no food or water. We either try our chances out there, or starve to death in here.”
Bryan put his shirt back on and edged out of the cave, his eyes focused on the arched roof of the entrance. He made out the rough walls and grey-brown of the rocks, and the dense dead foliage that clung like the hair to the back of an old man’s head. But there was no sign of the bird. Still, Bryan kept his eyes swivelling in their sockets, checking each nook and cranny.
Finally, he was out in the open. The rest of the family waited inside, peering out. They clutched rocks in their hands, to brandish at the bird if it made another attempt on Bryan.
“See anything?” Zoe said.
Bryan shook his head. He didn’t take his eyes off the rock face. The giant bird’s white underside would have been easy to spot against the grey-black cliff.
Bryan emerged from the left hand side. It was a vast and empty nothingness. To the right was something different to the usual blasted lands. There was an outcrop of wild vegetation. It was bushy and hard, not the kind of thing that would be easy to savor. But it might be edible, and they would need sustenance, in whatever form it took, if they were to traverse this world.
“You can come out now,” Bryan said.
The family did, while Bryan kept a close eye on their backs. A breeze rifled its fingers through the dank brown sprigs of fuzzy life. Nothing else stirred.
The family walked into the hunched bushes, each keeping an eye out, looking at the sky in a different direction. Zoe picked at the hard leaves of the bushes, sniffed them, rubbed them between her fingers, and then put them to her tongue and crushed them between her teeth.
“It’s good,” Zoe said. “Not too tasty, but safe.”
The others plucked handfuls of the dense leaves. They put them in their mouths and chewed, forming a thick paste. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, similar in texture to mushy peas. Once they had their fill, they pressed on.
“Do you think there are a lot of these giant birds in this world?” Aaron said.
“Maybe,” Zoe said. “Why do you ask?”
“I thought birds usually hung out and hunt together,” Aaron said.
“On the surface they do,” Zoe said. “But we’re not on the surface now.”
“I know,” Aaron said. “But I
would have thought behavior like that would take time to change.”
“It might do,” Zoe said. “But there’s no telling how long these birds might have been down here.”
“And if there are a lot of them, where is the food to support them?” Aaron said. “That’s part of the reason they flock together, isn’t it? That’s what the National Geographic said, anyway.”
“So what if they do usually hunt together?” Cassie said. “What difference would that make to us now?”
“Because it would mean this bird survived for a reason,” Aaron said. “It wouldn’t just be bigger and stronger than its competitors, the ones that died out, it would be smarter too.”
“So what?” Cassie said, growing agitated now. “What’s your point?”
“My point is, if it managed to survive that long by itself, it would have come up with strategies that enabled it to hunt better than most,” Aaron said.
The wisdom of Aaron’s words were just beginning to dawn on Bryan. If a super predator was to survive in a harsh environment such as this, it would need to learn to adapt, would be forced to adapt, or else die out. It would need to do things none of its predecessors had thought to do before. It would need to take calculated risks.
A chill ran through Bryan, the idea that a predator the likes of the giant bird could outwit them hadn’t occurred to him before. How would a bird outwit them? The answer struck him like a thunderbolt.
They were all looking at the sky. None of them were looking down.
As it turned out, the giant bird had long ago discovered a far more efficient form of hunting than zooming down from the sky. It liked to lay down flat on the dusty earth and shake its body, dislodging the dust and covering itself with a blanket of fine dirt. It even learned to turn its head to the side so as not to look too conspicuous, resembling a fallen log. Anything that caused movement, that came too close, that was within range, was snatched by the Humungo by jaw or claw.
Now, the family were getting awfully close.
The bird’s disguise wasn’t perfect. The dust that covered it was dishevelled, not smooth like the rest of the landmass. As Bryan traced it with his eyes, he began to work out its shape. He set his foot down. Only then did he realize what he was looking at.
That was a mistake. He should have stood perfectly still. But fate gives no prize to the those armed only with hindsight.
The dust spewed up in a torrent, dowsing the family. They stood stock still, in surprise, not knowing which way to run.
As its feathers shook and the bird revealed itself, the family came to their senses. Bryan turned and pumped his legs, throwing his arms back and forcing himself forward, eating up the landscape with broad strides. Bryan cast a glance over his shoulders and found Zoe and Cassie right beside him.
But no Aaron.
Bryan skidded to a halt. The others followed suit. They were on the rise of a sharp ridge that overlooked a vast undulating lake of lava. It was bubbling and hot, a thin crust of black covered large swathes of it.
“Aaron!” Zoe said.
The bird was rising up a sharp incline toward the peak of the tall hill, Aaron clutched in its claw.
“No!” Aaron screamed, his fingers raking the soil. “Why is it always me?”
Zoe powered up the incline, pumping her arms and legs with energy she didn’t know she had. Her muscles ached and groaned with the effort. She crested the hill. Aaron was still clutching what little snags of nature he could find, losing them instantly. His hands were filthy with desperation.
Cassie was ahead, and reached for Aaron’s flaying hands. She was within inches of grabbing them when there was another screech, this one longer and higher pitched.
A Humungo slammed into Cassie, flashing her vision with white, knocking her down. It was on top of her, gripping her with its pair of working claws. Aaron and Cassie were swept away on a fan of feathers, carried at an awkward angle. Taking off was not as easy as it could have been.
“They’re not gone yet,” Bryan said. “You get Aaron. I’ll get Cassie.”
Zoe gripped the mangled leg of Aaron’s bird. It flapped its wings in an attempt to take off, but Zoe wouldn’t let go. Aaron pummeled the bird’s legs to get free.
Bryan dug in his heels and skidded to a halt, on the very edge of the precipice. His boot disturbed the rock balancing precariously on the cliff edge. It fell over the side and hundreds of feet to the field of lava below.
Bryan stuck his feet deeper into the soil in an effort to maintain some friction, gripping its smoky grey tail feathers. But the bird didn’t slow or stop, and simply attempted to wave Bryan off. It was only as the bird was nearing the edge that it began to realize it was not gaining at much height as it needed. All because the big human wouldn’t let go.
The bird shook itself left to right to dislodge Bryan, but he wouldn’t let go. Finally, Bryan’s right hand came loose, away with a fan of feathers, leaving a pink bald spot on the bird’s ass. The bird let out a pained squawk, but it did not stop, and only flapped harder, forcing itself into the air.
Cassie screamed and reached for her father, for his extended hand, but it was too late. There was no way they were going to make contact. The bird struggled to lift off, and lowered its legs to get more traction. Cassie’s head smacked the ground, knocking her unconscious. The bird, finally, took wing.
Zoe dug in her feet too, churning up the soil like day old butter. She found little purchase, and clutched the bird’s plumage with both hands, holding on like she was riding a wild stallion.
“The edge!” Aaron said. “It’s going to go over the edge!”
“Then it’ll have to take me with it!” Zoe said.
The bird veered dangerously close, even beginning to tilt over. Zoe’s body floated on a road of air. The bird squealed, perhaps too stupid to stop, and pulled back against Zoe’s weight.
“Mom, you have to let go,” Aaron said.
“No,” Zoe said, gritting her teeth.
“The bird can’t carry both of us,” Aaron said. “And it has its heart set on me. There’s no way you can stop it.”
Zoe still wouldn’t let go.
“Then let it take me!” she said.
“It doesn’t work like that,” Aaron said. “Let go, otherwise it’s going to take both of us.”
“I can’t let you go,” Zoe said. “Not again.”
“You’ll come looking for us, just like you came looking for me before, in the water world,” Aaron said. “You came for me, just as I knew you would. There isn’t a force on earth—or under it—that could hold you back. That’s why I know you’ll come find us again. You can do it. We’ll wait for you. I know you’ll make it. We’ll see each other again. You’ll see.”
Now they were dangerously near the cliff. They were going to tumble over. But Zoe had already made up her mind.
“You wait for me,” she said. “We’ll come for you. We both will.”
“I know you will,” Aaron said.
And Zoe did the hardest thing she had ever done—and for the second time too— she let her son go.
The birds went over the edge and descended, falling a dozen yards before the updraft caught them and they rose back up, rising higher and higher into the sky.
“Great start,” Bryan said.
He tossed his plucked tail feathers aside.
“It seems like wherever we go down here, someone is there to take our babies away from us,” Zoe said. “We can’t let it happen again. I won’t allow it.”
“We won’t,” Bryan said. “I promise. This will be the last time. I swear.”
But that didn’t change the fact they still had to rescue their kids this time. And God knew where they might end up.
5.
THE ANGRY red of the magma fields had been replaced with some semblance of nature. It was green and brown, sickly and overcast. The wind was strong and made the rags the unwilling passengers wore snap against their bare skin. The birds’ feathers ruffled, blasted clean by
the wind. Up here, the Humungo bird was king and sailed with the ease of millions of years of evolution.
Cassie blinked, once, slowly, and then again, slower and more deliberate. She awoke to find her body lying in a calm position, securely fastened by the bird’s large claws around her waist. She started and clutched the bird’s coarse claws.
The bird’s large head bent down to peer at her over its huge beak. It made an annoyed hiss sound before adjusting its grip and gripping her tighter. It growled through its nostrils on the top of its beak, straightened up, and continued on with its flight.
“Nice to see you’re awake,” Aaron said.
Cassie arched her neck to peer right. Aaron was clutched in the second bird’s claw. He looked calm and at ease.
“How long have I been out?” Cassie said.
Aaron performed a little movement with his shoulders that suggested a shrug.
“Thirty minutes,” he said. “If we know roughly how fast we’ve been going and for how long, we might be able to figure out how far away we are.”
“Which direction did we come from?” Cassie said.
Aaron pointed directly behind them.
“That’s as best I can tell, anyway,” he said. “It’s not likely to be very reliable.”
Cassie straightened up to look into the distance.
“Where are they taking us?” she said.
“I don’t know,” Aaron said. “But it can’t be anywhere good.”
“Do you think we can get free?” Cassie said.
“Free?” Aaron said. “If we get free of these birds, we’ll fall all that way. We’ll be splatters on a rock somewhere.”
“So we’re just supposed to let them take us wherever they want?” Cassie said.
“Do we have any other choice?” Aaron said. “How could we stop them?”
“I suppose we can’t,” Cassie said. “Not without killing ourselves in the process.”
“I haven’t seen any evidence of people yet,” Aaron said. “We might be the only people here. So it’s not likely anyone will come rescue us anytime soon.”
