The Flock Part 23

With a cry mixed with rage and confusion and fear, fear, Egg Mother and Egg Father commanded the Flock to retreat, to end the chase for now. The Sun was rising; the rogue had left them behind and had utterly fooled them. Following the Parents, the Flock quickly sped back toward the interior of their domain, into the inviting places that had for so long protected them. Egg Mother and Egg Father commanded the Flock to retreat, to end the chase for now. The Sun was rising; the rogue had left them behind and had utterly fooled them. Following the Parents, the Flock quickly sped back toward the interior of their domain, into the inviting places that had for so long protected them. Away from here, Away from here, Egg Father called. Egg Father called. Back to safety, Back to safety, Egg Mother reinforced. And each of the flock members did just so. Egg Mother reinforced. And each of the flock members did just so.

But for one.

As the Flock headed north and east, he turned. He turned on his track and moved south and west. Toward the Scarlet rogue. d.a.m.n the humans. Walks Backward would kill the fool.

Chapter Forty-Six.

"Well, I have to admit I had my doubts when I asked where you were taking us," Mary said, wheezing. They were moving down a trail with which Ron was familiar. He had walked it before.

"I told you I've been here," Ron said. "This is the path I took when I thought a python was killing the dogs in Salutations. That's the substation where you met me the other day." Riggs was pointing at the neat square of crushed red brick atop which the substation sat, the whole thing surrounded by chain link. It was a very familiar and rea.s.suring sight. "You saw it from the other side. All we have to do is go about fifty more yards and we'll be out on the street at the edge of Salutations, USA."

"G.o.d bless Berg Brothers Studio," Mary shouted. Gripping her rifle a bit more loosely, she began to jog ahead of Ron.

Together, the pair trotted past the substation and moved beyond it. The sun was up and the full afternoon heat was bearing down on them. The couple looked to have been chewed up and spit out by a very large and very nasty critter. They were covered in mud and a thin sheen of sandy muck made up of forest detritus and human sweat. Where they weren't dirty, they were bloodied, a wealth of minor scratches, abrasions, and insect bites covering their exposed arms. No one was going to open a door for them, of that both were certain. They were either going to have to march into downtown Salutations or, more likely, await the arrival of a security detail. Probably the latter, from what they knew of the artificial town.

Coming out to the street, they were surprised to see a number of cars moving a bit more rapidly than the authorities in Salutations generally allowed. Standing there, staring at the caravan of speeding BMWs, Cadillacs, and Volvos they were surprised when a sedan pulled over to the shoulder of the road. An electric motor hummed as a tinted window quickly levered down. A familiar face appeared as Mr. Brill, he of the severed dog foot, leaned across the seat to address them.

"Hey! You guys must be chasing those giant birds."

Ron and Mary just stood and looked at one another.

Mr. Brill looked a bit bothered by their confusion.

"You are are after those dino-birds or whatever the h.e.l.l they are. after those dino-birds or whatever the h.e.l.l they are. Aren't you? Aren't you?" His reddish face was sweating, even in the interior of his air-conditioned Cadillac.

"Yes," Mary blurted. "We've been chasing them for miles miles."

"Well you sure as d.a.m.ned h.e.l.l aren't going to catch them on foot. d.a.m.ned things are fast." He swept his hand along to indicate just how quick they were. "Need a ride?"

"h.e.l.l, yes," Riggs told him. He reached for the door handle and jumped in beside the old man. "Sorry about the upholstery," he said as he smeared his way across the seat.

"Don't worry about it, son. Just get in and I'll take you in the general direction of where they were headed." Brill waited while Mary hopped in and made a similar mess of his back seat. And then he peeled away from the shoulder of the road and was soon doing a good sixty-five. His pa.s.sengers seemed to wilt, luxuriating in the cool air flowing over and around them. There was a moment in which he actually heard them sigh in pleasure.

"What happened to your truck?" Brill asked.

"Huh? Oh. My truck. Left it back at Vance Holcomb's compound."

"Holcomb, huh? I thought that crazy jillionaire probably had something to do with this. Wonder where he found those things?" Tires squealed as he took a turn a bit too sharply. People pointed from big picture windows in big houses. Some braver citizens stood on front steps to watch.

"How many? How many of these birds did you see?" Mary asked.

"Saw two of them. A red one being chased by a brown one. The red one's bigger, but the brown one is doing all the chasing." He grunted, gripped the steering wheel and took another turn. "Those things are what ate my dog? Aren't they? Huh?"

"Well, probably."

"You told me it was a snake snake. Isn't that just like like the government? Hide things. Cover them up." He took half a second to scowl at Ron. the government? Hide things. Cover them up." He took half a second to scowl at Ron.

"Truthfully, sir. We didn't know it was a giant bird at the time. I really did think it was a python. I swear. We only found out later what was going on." Ron had his left hand raised as if taking an oath; his right hand was gripped firmly around the rifle rather than resting on a Bible.

"What is is going on, anyway? What going on, anyway? What are are they? Where'd they they? Where'd they come come from? They look like from? They look like dinosaurs dinosaurs for G.o.d's sake. I thought they were some kind of allosaurus or something until I saw the feathers." They were coming in close to downtown Salutations. for G.o.d's sake. I thought they were some kind of allosaurus or something until I saw the feathers." They were coming in close to downtown Salutations.

"Well, they're phorusrachids," Ron said. "Big predatory ground dwelling birds that we thought had been extinct for a long time. Either a million years or fifteen thousand years depending on which paleontologist you talk to."

"They don't look look extinct." extinct."

"Obviously not. And apparently they've been here all along. Living here on what was the military base and bombing range. Kind of protected by the base, strangely enough."

Brill slowed the car, his big hands gripping the wheel. His faced looked sober and very serious. He had slowed the auto to a more sedate thirty miles per hour, still over the posted limit. "I'll be d.a.m.ned," he said. "You know...it kind of makes sense." Then he turned and stared directly at Riggs. "What's going to happen?"

"What do you mean?" Ron said.

"With these things here. There must be more than two of them. Right?"

"I'd say so, although we only actually saw one. But you say you saw two. Where there's two, there's probably more, I'd say."

"Right. Right. So, what's going to happen to this place, now? Isn't this some job for the EPA, or some agency like that?"

"Department of the Interior, most likely," Ron told him. "Some branch of it, anyway."

"Right. So, what's going to happen to us? What's going to happen to Salutations? Salutations?"

And if Ron had had any doubts as to what had been going on for the previous two days, they were gone. Mr. Brill was no dope. He turned in his seat and looked back at Mary who had leaned forward. They nodded at one another.

"I'd think," Mary told Mr. Brill, "that the media will gather in vast numbers here. Other than that, I couldn't tell you. I reckon we'll all find out."

Suddenly, the old man braked the car. Ron, who had not been buckled in, slipped forward and slammed against the dash, making a big black mark there. Brill was going to have to pay some bucks to clean his car, unfortunately. "Look," the driver said, pointing.

In front of them, at the next intersection, at least thirty cars clogged the streets. They were parked everywhere and in every conceivable angle. Most of the people who'd brought them there were still inside, locked safely behind a shield of safety gla.s.s and whatever currently pa.s.sed for auto steel. A few, perhaps foolhardy, souls had gotten out to stand outside their cars and watch. The only clear area was the intersection itself, now a roughly circular spot of black asphalt and pale concrete sidewalks and curbing. In the center of that hard-surfaced ring, something like the ultimate c.o.c.kfight was going on. Walks Backward had finally caught up to the Scarlet rogue. One of them was going to go down.

Walks Backward had not obeyed the orders of the Egg Parents. For the first time in his life he had failed to follow their dictates. It wasn't that he thought that he could continue to keep the Flock a secret from Man. That was done and over. The Scarlet had ultimately and completely seen to that. No, what he wanted, what he needed needed at this point was to satisfy his hatred. He wanted and needed to kill the Scarlet rogue. Nothing less than that could satisfy him. at this point was to satisfy his hatred. He wanted and needed to kill the Scarlet rogue. Nothing less than that could satisfy him.

And so he had left the path of retreat the others had made. It had been his job to scour that path, to close it off to pursuit to any who tracked them. He hoped that another had now taken up the name he had lived with for so long. But beyond that he had no concern other than to catch and kill the rogue who had put him in this position and who had possibly doomed the Flock.

Initially, the Scarlet had not detected that he was being followed. That was good for Walks Backward. If possible, he wanted to attack from a position of complete surprise. The rogue had proven wilier and a bit wiser than any of them had supposed. In the warning oaths communicated by his Flock elders, he had detected some perverse pride in the confusion the Scarlet had brought on them. But that pride was canceled by the danger he had created for them by allowing Man to discover their presence. Initially the Flock had suspected that the one man, the one they called The Watcher, had seen them, but later they had decided that he had not actually spotted them and only suspected their presence. Now there was no doubt. Man knew of them.

For some miles Walks Backward had trailed the rogue. The larger bird had moved closer and closer to the new abode Man had placed at the edge of their domain. The other was going to get as close as possible and bed down there at that dangerous place. That much he supposed. It had been his intention to wait until a time when the Scarlet would rest; then he'd strike. This surprise, coupled with his experience of longer years, would enable him to achieve the kill. It was what he hoped.

Almost, his plan had worked. As he'd thought, the rogue had worked closer and closer to the place where humans made their huge nests. On the very edge of the forest, where it gave way to the great paths on which the humans moved and to the short, gra.s.sy s.p.a.ces that surrounded their nests, the Scarlet had found a sheltered patch of shade where he had stopped. There, he had settled down and actually rested his great head on the forest floor. At that instant, still undetected, Walks Backward had struck.

The smaller bird had sprinted in, covering the fifty-yard distance between them. He'd been happy that he had been able to creep that close without being seen, but the wind had been with him and the Scarlet had not been able to gather his scent. With the rogue still trying to rise to a defense posture, Walks Backward had kicked with his left leg, rising into the air to deliver a single downward slash with his right talon. The blow had been a good one, claws meeting solidly along the rogue's left side, tearing away a good swatch of those red-tinged feathers and leaving a deep furrow with his st.u.r.dy middle claw.

After that, the battle had not been so easy. The Scarlet had found his footing and had risen quickly to full height. Even though his adversary was the second largest member of the Flock, the rogue was considerably taller and roughly one hundred pounds heavier. From a standing posture he could look down on the feathered crown of Walks Backward. This gave him an attack advantage based on leverage, and the added weight meant that each blow he delivered would connect with that much more force. Screaming a return challenge, the rogue joined the battle. He did not intend to lose, despite having suffered the first wound.

Lashing out with his own great claws, he was able to force his attacker to back away. After that, he lowered his head and charged, meaning to get in close and bite at the other's deep, fleshy chest. The muscles there were large and thick and vulnerable to attack. Jaws wide, he lunged in and came close, retreating with a beakful of earthtone feathers.

But Walks Backward had expected such a move and had intentionally left that part of himself open to a feint. Waiting until the last possible instant, he had backed away, then kicked upward as the rogue drew back with his meager reward of chest feathers. His upward traveling foot smashed into the younger bird's head, snapping it back and up in a powerful and disorienting blow. The Scarlet rogue was stunned and at a sudden and overpowering disadvantage. His body reeled drunkenly and it even looked as if he would go down.

However, as the elder terror bird lunged to slash again with his right claw, the Scarlet was able to turn. Moving quickly the rogue found his feet steady beneath him, churning the loam and sending himself away from immediate danger. In seconds he had picked up a considerable speed and was heading directly for one of the human homes. There was only a stand of small pines and a low wooden barrier separating their battle site from the human nest. The Scarlet rogue rushed through those green limbs and bounded easily over the barrier.

Walks Backward hesitated only for a second and then followed the object of his hatred. It was too late to play the old games any longer. With a scream, he was after the larger bird.

Immediately the dogs of the humans began to emerge from small dens and from the nests of humans, barking and yapping and sending up a clamor of alarm that was not unfamiliar to any member of the Flock. They had heard the sounds many times from the packs of feral dogs who sometimes tried to insinuate themselves into the birds' domain. With the two sprinting across the grazed gra.s.sy patches that surrounded the human nests, men began to emerge from those nests, to see the two creatures who were moving at great speed and in plain sight. Now, if there had been any doubt, a long and successful era was ended for the Flock. With renewed hatred Walks Backward did his best to reduce the lead the Scarlet rogue had produced with his quick retreat and great stride.

The terror birds raced on and on through Salutations USA. The puny humans emerged time and again from their homes, chattering and screaming, chattering and screaming.

Ron got out of the car first. Gripping the rifle in his sweaty, bruised hands, he moved as fast as he was able past the parked vehicles and the people who were milling this way and that to get a good look at the battling monsters.

"What are they?" some woman asked him.

"They look like dinosaurs, dinosaurs," someone answered.

"They ain't dinosaurs. All the dinosaurs are dead," a learned individual informed both.

"They're big birds," a young, blonde woman said, correcting them all.

"But birds ain't got arms, arms," the dinosaur expert reminded her. And then, seeing Ron and Mary with the rifles they'd taken from the dead men, he addressed them. "You guys gone kill them animals, now?"

Shoving past the guy, Riggs and Niccols got in as close as they were able. Just on the other side of a ring of Caddys and Beemers the two terror birds were going at one another beak and claw. The street was covered in feathers torn free from flesh and spattered with bright red dollops of blood. Most of the blood and feathers seemed to be coming from the reddish bird, even though it was quite the larger of the two. The friends just stood in place for a moment, watching the fight and marveling at the wonderful creatures.

"How tall do you think the red one is, Mary?"

"Ten feet. Easy. Must weigh seven, eight hundred pounds, I'd say." The pavement vibrated for her as the thing came down from a leap and a slashing blow, as if to punctuate Niccols' estimation.

"G.o.d. They're beautiful," Ron said. He stared up at the things who towered over the small human beings watching the death fight. While he watched, the smaller, brown one got in a tremendous kick that sprayed blood over the hood of a car. This brought a cheer from some of the people watching.

"When you gonna shoot shoot them?" the dinosaur genius screamed in Ron's ear from about six inches away. He'd not even heard the guy approach over the screeching of the birds. them?" the dinosaur genius screamed in Ron's ear from about six inches away. He'd not even heard the guy approach over the screeching of the birds.

"We're not going to shoot them, you jerk. Not if we can help it," Mary yelled at the expert, shoving the flabby man away. "Now get out of here before you get hurt."

At that point, a car belonging to the Salutations Security outfit came to a halt beyond the traffic jam, the sting of burning rubber gliding from opposite side of the intersection. Three men climbed out, rather in a hurry. All of them were armed with good hunting rifles. Ron and Mary watched in some horror as the three struggled in close to the two birds and took up positions that would enable them to get off clear shots. "Get out of the line of fire, fire," one was screaming at the idiots on Ron's side of the battle.

"d.a.m.nation," Mary said. "They're going to kill them."

"They wouldn't," Ron stuttered.

"They by G.o.d would, too. They'll gun them both down right here and right now. You wait and see. And there's not a thing we can do about it, unless you want to be guilty of murdering those men."

Riggs watched, his throat tensing, his heart pounding as the security guards waited for the people to move away from out of their gunsights. They were slowly drawing beads on the gigantic animals who were still biting and clawing and slashing at one another. Two monsters who should have become extinct a long time ago were about to meet a delayed end. Ron could almost feel the fingers squeezing on those triggers. He waited to hear the reports.

"Stop," someone screamed. "Don't shoot them."

Ron looked across. It was Vance Holcomb. The rich man was literally climbing over cars to get to the three security guards. They all turned their heads slightly to see who was coming toward them, but none took their barrels away from the intended targets. Through it all, the two terror birds continued their battle, their screeching cries becoming more intense and louder as the fight became bloodier and more desperate. It was becoming obvious to everyone that the reddish one was losing.

"Get back, mister," one of the guards said to Holcomb as he came in close. But Holcomb did not get back. He dove right in and put his hand on the barrel of that rifle and forced it down.

"You shoot that bird and so help me G.o.d I'll kill you all," he growled at the trio. There was desperation and complete hatred in his dirty, tired, mad face.

The three private cops exchanged glances and the two who could once more aimed their guns.

"Wait a minute," Holcomb told them. "Let me try this, first." And, reaching into the nylon pouch around his waist, he drew out the dart pistol, the single item he had taken with him from his now destroyed lab. "It's loaded with tranq darts," he told them. "Let me try this first. That's all I ask."

The hired guns glanced again into one another's eyes, but said nothing.

"These animals are unique," Holcomb said. "You kill them and it's going to be bad news for you." This did not seem to melt their resolve. "And it'll be big big bad news for Berg Brothers," he added. They lowered their guns. bad news for Berg Brothers," he added. They lowered their guns.

"Take your best shot," one of the guards said.

The Scarlet rogue and Walks Backward were still at it. Each seemed to be trying to avoid the other's slashing beak. And with good reason, for a claw slash was much less likely to deliver a killing wound that those razor-edged jaws. Up and down the two birds went, bouncing on ma.s.sively muscled legs, the asphalt tremoring each time one came down.

Holcomb stepped up, drew a bead. The birds moved. First one was in his sights, then the other. Which one should he hit? The brown one was winning. If he hit the brown one, it was in the best shape to switch its attack to the people around it. But what if the brown one went down? The red bird might be desperate and also turn its rage on the people. He had already seen what the red one had done to Grisham's men. Making his decision, he aimed and fired. There was a quick report and the dart flew true, striking its intended target.

Both birds were aware of the short, quick explosion of sound.

Walks Backward felt a sudden, sharp pain in his side. It was just a p.r.i.c.k. Like the times he had been stung by hornets-it was nothing serious. But almost immediately his legs felt weak and there seemed to be a cool numbness running through his muscles. He buckled and went down, seeing the great claws of the Scarlet rogue waiting just beyond his head, which now lay p.r.o.ne against the hard earth. With one eye he could see his adversary standing over him, and there was nothing he could do.

For a held breath, the Scarlet rogue realized something was wrong with his enemy. Walks Backward shuddered where he lay and he could not even kick out in defense. The rogue stood and peered in amazement. Death from a distance, just as the histories had said.

The Scarlet turned his head back, and he saw the human standing there. It was The Man Who Watches, The Man Who Watches, and in his grasp was one of the things humans sometimes held. Other humans were standing with him, similarly armed. He drew his huge legs beneath him in a sudden moment of desperation and fear. Screaming one of the human sounds at them, he sprang forward, away from the man who had felled Walks Backward. and in his grasp was one of the things humans sometimes held. Other humans were standing with him, similarly armed. He drew his huge legs beneath him in a sudden moment of desperation and fear. Screaming one of the human sounds at them, he sprang forward, away from the man who had felled Walks Backward.

Ron and Mary and the dinosaur expert all ducked as the gigantic terror bird jumped and sailed over them in a long, fluid leap. It landed beyond them, impacting on the hood of a Caddy and leaving a cratered dimple there before it leaped again. In a second it had gained the yard beyond the car and it was sprinting, down the street, headed for the forest that beckoned down the way.

Looking toward Holcomb, Ron saw one of the security guards trying to draw a bead on the retreating bird. But even if there had been no one in his line of sight, it would have done him no good. For once again Holcomb was there to force the barrel toward the ground. Holcomb and the guard glared at one another.

And soon the bird was gone.

For a time, there was almost complete silence. Then, tentatively, first Holcomb, and then Ron and Mary crept up to the still form of the giant bird lying upon the dark pavement. And finally, the crowd held at bay by the guards and the others who were now arriving to back them up, the people began to mutter.