The Birds, They're Back

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The Birds, They're Back Page 20

by Wendy Reakes


  The voice continued as everyone in the carriage -even the corporal- listened intently.

  …If there are survivors out there, we recommend you immediately seek underground shelter…We are communicating with London on an hourly basis…

  The British Isles, Europe and Asia have been overcome with bird attacks…Steps are being taken by the military to destroy the birds before mankind is wiped out…The gas is not lethal…

  We have been warned that civilians have until midday Monday…in the meantime, take all necessary precautions to stay alive. Help each other. God bless you.

  The man turned off the radio. People were talking, buzzing, panicking.

  Someone shouted. “How are we supposed to find somewhere underground?”

  The corporal stood up. “Everyone shut up and sit down.”

  “You fucking sit down,” one retorted.

  Harry watched as the corporal lunged towards the guy and grabbed him around the neck until another man came up behind him and struck him on the back of the head. Corporal Baines fell to the floor rubbing his head and the man took the rifle off him.

  Harry was about to stand when Bill pushed him back into his seat. “Pick your own fights,” Bill said.

  People began to scream as a soldier came in from the next carriage. The guy with the rifle didn’t know what to do. He was enraged as he pointed it, but as he searched for the trigger, he was overcome by two soldiers.

  He was dragged outside and thrown off the train travelling at 130mph.

  Harry thought about what Dolly had said. ‘This wasn’t normal travel. Not the sort of thing we’re used to.’

  Bill leaned forward. His face was red from rage and disgust. “What if we can’t find anywhere underground in Bristol?” he whispered.

  “I know a place,” Harry said as he once again shut his mouth to any unnecessary discourse.

  Chapter 53

  “We need food,” said Ellen. She’d slept for an hour until Molly, in her sleep, lashed out with her hand. She got up and went upstairs to the sitting room. Matt was dozing, still on guard next to the windows. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Go and get in my bed with Molly,” she whispered.

  “I can’t…”

  “Yes, you can. Don’t worry, we’ll keep watch.”

  She watched him walk away. She was so proud of her teenage son, she couldn’t even begin to fathom it. He had taken over when she wasn’t there to protect them all. To Ellen, Matt Fear was her hero. Harry would have been so proud of him.

  She plucked a piece of lint off the sleeve of her sweater as she thought about Harry. He could be dead, for all she knew. He'd gone to Cornwall where the worst of the attacks had happened. She hoped he hadn't suffered. She wouldn't like that at all. How many times had she wished he was there with her, protecting her and the kids? Of all the weekends to go away with his girlfriend, it had to be that one.

  She ran her hands down the edge of the curtains closed to the night. Tom was curled up at the end of the sofa. The three girls were in Gemma’s room, also sleeping. Mark was sitting up at the table with the professor playing cards. They both looked dog tired. Soon, she would make them sleep too.

  Thank god she was home now. Even though there was still a lot to get through, they were at least safe in the house, weren't they? The windows facing the gorge were made of hardened glass. The birds would never get through, but there were some other windows around the side of the house that were just normal. The toilet was one and the laundry room. That was the mortuary now. The door was closed to the bodies until someone came to collect them; their family perhaps. It would be a horrible moment when Sim's mum came and even worse when Franco's parents came and there was no body to collect.

  Mark had placed a chair against the handle of the door to the laundry room and the loo had another. Inside, he’d covered the windows with a picture from the wall. It wouldn’t deter the birds, but it may put them off if they couldn’t see an easy way in. She thanked heavens for the front door being solid wood. And it was thick wood too. Hopefully, unbreakable.

  Now, they had to wait for a time when they had rested to decide if they should leave or stay in the house. Ellen knew a place underground and it wouldn’t be hard to reach, but she wasn’t sure what to expect when they got there. At least at the house, as barricaded as it was, they had all their own supplies to make of as they wanted.

  She got up and went into the kitchen. The blinds on the windows and doors were down, shading any light in the house from the night. One candle burned next to the stove. She looked in the cupboard, where there were plenty of tins they could open and eat, but how would she heat the food? The door swung inwards and Mark came in. “I would make food,” she said, “if I had the means to cook it.” Her stove was electric, more’s the pity.

  “Got a barbeque?”

  “Yes. We’re always barbequing.”

  “Gas?”

  She nodded.

  “Where is it?”

  She pointed outside, through the doors. “In the shed.”

  He went toward the doors, but she stopped him. “Don’t go out there.”

  He stroked her gently on her back. “Don’t worry, it’ll be just for a second. And there may be some other stuff we can use. I’ll have a look whilst I’m out there.”

  She nodded but she was dubious.

  She stood in the open doorway watching the sky. The gorge was beautiful as it always was, but there was danger lurking there now. She’d always loved it out there on the terrace, but now, would the birds be responsible for her hating it, hating the exposure?

  Whilst Mark rummaged around in the shed, she looked across the gorge to her neighbors. They had similar houses, but in Ellen's opinion, hers had the better view. It was dark over there as if no one was home, but her house must have looked the same. Like no one was in. She wondered if they were still alive. Maybe they weren’t at home when the birds began their assault on the humans. Maybe they had died somewhere else…or maybe they were dead inside their home and they had been feasted on. She hated how her mind worked overtime with the whole matter. She’d always had an active imagination, but with all that had happened, it couldn’t be right imagining people with their eyes pecked out.

  She turned away and went back inside, just as Mark dragged their old gas barbecue into the kitchen. Underneath, the two bottles were full. She knew that because she’d changed them only last week and they hadn’t been used since.

  “We can heat things on it if we keep it burning low.”

  “Thank you. It’s a good idea.”

  “No problem.” He played with the knobs. “Got a match?”

  She went to the drawer and took out a firelighter. Her mind flashed back to Harry when he'd brought home six. At the time, he'd been fed up of never being able to find a light when he needed it. Now they had a lighter in every drawer in the house.

  "Crazy man," Ellen muttered to herself.

  Chapter 54

  Harry was pensive about their arrival to Bristol. It was pitch black outside, but how deceptive was that when the lights inside the carriages were on? All he could see were their reflections in the glass.

  He was looking at Melanie’s face. The cuts had dried, which was a good thing. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, messy, so Harry wished he’d tied it up for her. She would have preferred that. She seemed to be coming out of her shell slowly, not as withdrawn as she had been since her ordeal.

  Earlier. she’d asked to go to the rest room. Harry escorted her and Gladys took her inside the cubicle.

  While he waited outside the door, guarding it, Harry felt the draught rising through the floor from the tracks. The fresh air was welcome, clearing his head, allowing him to breathe easier.

  Corporal Baines came out of the carriage and into the corridor to light a cigarette. He offered one to Harry, but Harry declined. He wasn’t sure about how friendly he should get with the soldier, especially after seeing his buddies throw that other guy off the train.
r />   “Why’d they do it?” he asked.

  The soldier looked at him with one eye closed as he took a drag. He knew which event Harry was referring to. “Zero tolerance.”

  “What?”

  “It’s how we’ve been briefed,” he said, shrugging. “Zero tolerance.”

  Harry got it. It was the only way the army and the government could maintain control. Not to take any shit from anyone. “So, all civilians have two enemies to battle, the birds and the British Forces.”

  The soldier dragged his cigarette and blew two smoke rings, that dispersed with the up draught from the rails. Harry wondered if there was any point in discussing anything with him. He was a bozo, trained to obey orders. Nothing more, nothing less.

  “What’s wrong with the woman?”

  Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to discuss Melanie with the bozo. “She was attacked in close quarters. Trapped inside a house with hundreds of birds. She barely got out alive.”

  “Head’s gone, yeah?”

  “She’ll be all right.”

  He nodded.

  “Where are you from, Corporal?”

  “Bristol.”

  Harry was surprised. It showed on his face.

  “Got family there, but I haven’t seen them for years. They may even be dead now.”

  “We’re getting off at Bristol. My wife and children are there.”

  “You think you’re getting off.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “After what happened in Taunton, the train may not stop.”

  “But it will try, right?”

  He shrugged, stamping out his cigarette beneath his solid army boots. “You might get lucky.”

  The door to the toilet opened. Melanie came out and saw the soldier. She went over to him and put her arms around him, hugging him. He looked disturbed, but then, out of character, he put his arm around her.

  Harry remembered Melanie telling him she had a brother in the army overseas. She thought this guy was him. Harry went to her and pulled her gently away. The soldier stood watching them as they left.

  When she’d hugged him, she whispered something “Thank you for looking after us.”

  That was the first time she’d spoken to anyone since her ordeal, except Gladys. She and the old lady had connected in a way that was remarkable. Melanie, surely, looked upon Gladys as a mother, or grandmother; someone she could trust. The relationship was endearing, but Harry wished more than anything she’d speak to him too.

  As they went back to their seats, the soldier came back and sat down, watching them as they carried on travelling.

  The other people in the carriage were relatively silent. One woman was sobbing gently as a man tried to comfort her. Another woman held an infant on her shoulder. He was asleep. He looked too young to be part of a horror show. A young couple had their faces together, eyeballing each other, as if they couldn’t bear to look upon anything other than each other. A child was drawing, and Harry wondered what nightmarish visions she would depict. If she was drawing a bird, how would that bird look? Harry wondered.

  Just as they were ten minutes from Bristol Temple Meads, Corporal Baines stood up and hollered down the carriage. “Who wants to get off at Bristol?”

  Harry looked around to the show of hands. All of their group, plus ten more. The rest were carrying on to Manchester.

  “Listen up,” the soldier yelled, “When I tell you, you can form an orderly queue at the door next to me.” He pointed to Harry and the rest of the group. “You’re all first in line.”

  Harry was astonished that Baines had favored them. He had him down for a guy who possessed no compassion for others at all. In appreciation, Harry offered him an expression of gratitude, but he didn't really know if going first was the best position to be in, or not. Who knew what would happen when they tried to get off?

  The train was slowing.

  Corporal Baines stood up and cocked his rifle. “Now,” he said.

  Obediently, everyone who wanted to get off at Bristol rose to their feet. Harry went first. Harry and Bill had already agreed their tactics. The women and children stood behind him while Bill took the flank. They worked their way to the door and Harry stood next to the Corporal, waiting.

  They felt the train slowing along the track. Harry thought about the birds. The people had two advantages, the element of surprise, and that it was dark.

  Just as Harry contemplated it all, the lights on the train went out. They were going to stop. “Thank you,” he said to the guy he’d called a bozo.

  They were pulling into Temple Meads. The platforms were undercover with only a few lights on.

  The corporal opened the door leading to the corridor. Everyone followed behind in an orderly fashion. He pushed down the window of the external door and reached his hand through, standing back to allow Harry to squeeze in and get closer to the exit. Harry held Melanie’s hand firmly, and he wouldn’t be letting go.

  Then, on the platform of the station, they saw carnage.

  Bodies were lying around everywhere, among dead birds and broken glass and abandoned luggage. “You’re on your own,” the soldier shouted over the noise of the wind whistling through the door as the brakes engaged. “Considering the conditions here, the train won’t stop completely, so you’ll have to jump.”

  Harry wasted no time. As the train slowed to 30mph, he took hold of Melanie around the waist and he leapt off. He could have run to a standstill, but Melanie’s awkward gate made him fall, and roll over across the platform floor. They came to a stop when they crashed into a body. When Melanie opened her eyes to see a woman staring nowhere with her eyes plucked out, Melanie screamed.

  Harry had hurt his arm in the fall. He may have broken it. He took his free hand and put it across her mouth to stop her from screaming, until he realized that with the sound of everyone else doing the same, and with the screeching of the train on the rails, there was nothing he could do to prevent the birds from hearing everything and come in for an attack.

  Chapter 55

  Bill watched Harry and Melanie take a leap out of the door. He grabbed the children and maneuvered them off the carriage and onto the platform, keeping hold of one arm as they steadied themselves, running. He told Dolly to keep her arms tucked in and just roll, knowing she wouldn't be as agile as the children. Dolly was hesitant, but Bill pushed her, praying she'd get through it. Bill grabbed Gladys and took her with him, as he, taking his own leap of faith, jumped.

  When he stopped, feeling just a little bruised, he immediately rose to his feet to check the welfare of his family. Dolly was okay, thank god, the children too. He went back for Gladys, but she was unconscious. He did a sweep of the platform. Apart from the hundreds of dead, lying everywhere, there were no birds coming in to attack. He thanked God for it as he pulled his mother into his arms and nursed her head against his shoulder.

  There was only one other person who came off the train. And he’d been maliciously pushed in the scuffle.

  As the train speeded up, the other passengers had remained onboard, their faces looking outwards through the windows looking scared, disappointed and weary.

  Dolly huddled the children as they rose to a standing position, anxious to block their faces from seeing the dead.

  Bill swept Gladys up into his arms, as he watched Harry go towards the soldier sitting next to his gun. He had his hands draped over his knees as the train sped by without him.

  Harry tapped him on the shoulder. “We need to find cover,” Harry said.

  The soldier leapt up and grabbed his gun.

  Then they all, now a group of eight survivors, ran across the platform, avoiding the bodies and enter a windowless room within the terminal.

  Bill and Dolly attended Gladys. “I’ve got nothing for her,” Dolly said. “I can’t find any wounds.”

  “I don’t think it’s physical,” Bill said. “What about smelling salts?”

  Dolly found a small bottle amongst the medical supplies she’
d taken from the chemist. She placed it under Gladys’ nose, and the old lady stirred with a pitiful moan.

  “Can you hear me, mother?” said Bill.

  She opened her eyes. “Aye, I’m not deaf.”

  “Have you broken anything?” Dolly said.

  “I’m not a doctor neither.”

  Dolly rolled her eyes. “Can you feel any pain?”

  “Apart from the pain of living, you mean?”

  “Mother,” said Bill sternly. “Have you ever given a straight answer to anything in your life.”

  “Aye,” she said, “When I said I do to your father.”

  Harry came over and kneeled next to them. “I might have broken my arm,” he said.

  “Let me see.” Dolly raised his sleeve and he winced. “I can’t do anything. We’ll have to strap you up and get you to the hospital.”

  Bill looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “Love, there won’t be a hospital. Look around you. Everything’s gone.”

  “If we’re here, there’ll be other people alive too, don’t you think?”

  “Aye, maybe,” Bill said. “How far is the infirmary?”

  “It’s not far from here,” Harry said, “Maybe two miles, but we don’t know how long it will take if we walk. It’s up-hill too.”

  He looked at the Corporal leaning up against the wall whilst he sat on the floor. His gun was next to him. “We’ve got army here,” the soldier said. “Should be some vehicles outside the station.”

  “So, we can just let them take us,” Dolly said.

  “If they’re still alive,” said Harry.

  “They’ll be alive,” said the soldier.

  But they weren’t. The area was scattered with dead military and civilians.

  It wasn't that, however, which made the group of eight come to a complete halt.

  Outside the concourse, beyond the door, over the streets, pathways, abandoned vehicles, and every available space, birds of all variety sat and watched them alight from the station.

  It was a heart-stopping moment for them all. They were trapped, and they were all going to die.

 

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