Birds

19 2 10
                                    


We stood on my front porch, panting. Though birds had flown overhead, nothing attacked us as we fled the park.

"Jamie, what did you mean about the birds?" Quan asked.

She turned to us, her eyes wild. "Those weird magpies from Europe. It's Spring, see? It was Spring there, too. They migrated here, and they brought that song. And our birds started singing it. Not just our magpies. All the birds. It made me feel really strange, like I'd been drugged. Didn't you feel it?"

"I thought it was the wine," Quan said, his tone verging on sceptical.

"It made me want to drink," Dimi said, looking at Aaden. "I couldn't stop."

Aaden shrugged. "Yeah. I drank at least half a bottle in like, five minutes."

"Me too." I remembered the way the wine just kept disappearing. I hadn't even known I was drinking it.

"Yeah," Jamie continued. "So the birds sing and we fall asleep. And then herdenmord starts. If that woman hadn't screamed, would we be here now?"

We stared at each other, silenced, and in the silence we heard the first notes of the melody ring out from nearby gum trees.

I unlocked the front door and waved everyone in. Quan didn't move.

"Come on," I urged, "before something sees us."

Quan shook his head, sweat dripping down his face. "I can't. I have to go home."

"Quan!" My stomach knotted but I knew there was no point in arguing. He was not the kind of guy who'd leave his family to fend for themselves. If I could have been with my parents... "Call me," I finished. "Let me know you're okay."

He nodded and leapt down the stairs, taking off at a flat run for home.

I stayed on the porch, watching him until he'd turned the corner at the end of the street, wishing him invisibility.

The next-door neighbour's front door opened with a bang and Mr Burns ran out onto his lawn, shouting incoherently. His lower lip was hanging from his face and blood dripped from his chin, staining his shirt. He ran for his front gate, but before he could get there, a dark, muscular shape hurtled through his open door, took two great bounds across the lawn and was on him. My jaw dropped. It was Harley—his American pit bull.

Aaden rejoined me, watching, aghast, as Harley closed his powerful jaws in his owner's leg and shook his head, tearing fabric and flesh. Mr Burns screamed as the dog pulled him to the ground.

I'd heard pit bull's bit deep and didn't let go, but as soon as Mr Burns fell, Harley released his grip and went straight for the throat. Aaden started to move but stopped when a wide burst of blood told us Harley had found Mr Burn's weak spot.

Aaden grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the shadows. We managed to cram ourselves through the front door, and I closed it as gently as I could. I went to the front windows and pulled the blinds down as Harley growled and thrashed, finishing his best friend off. When I was sure the dog could not see us, I turned to face the others. Was my face as shocked and bloodless as theirs?

A mournful howl rent the air. Moments later, another howl answered. I put my eye to a gap in the blind in time to see Harley leap over the front gate and run toward the park.

It took me a moment to recover my breath.

Aaden beat me to it. "He kept a freaking pit bull?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "He must have hidden him the entire time. I don't think he was ever registered."

"I thought it took longer than that for pets to turn," Dimi said.

I shrugged. "Maybe Harley was never really a pet." But I didn't think that was it. Maybe we'd culled so many animals the song had become strong enough to turn any pets straight away.

"Forget that, we've got to warn everyone before the rats get to the power lines," Jamie said.

We spent the next hour posting alerts and messages on social media and calling family and friends to make sure they were safe. Jamie turned on the television, leaving the sound off. The emergency services were all over it—they'd deployed army trucks to the city barricades and heavily armoured police and fire crews were responding to as many calls as they could manage.

Watching the news was like deja vu. The screen blared shocking images of death. In the Northern Territory, a vast three-legged crocodile crashed down on a boat full of tourists, spilling them into a waiting river of scales and teeth. Emus ran a group of fencing contractors down, kicking and stabbing with their heavy beaks. A plague of rats and mice overwhelmed a country town in South Australia. An aggressive mob of roos at Melbourne's barricade were mown down by automatic weapons. The soldiers were shooting through slits in the sides of reinforced trucks. It was the roos that stood no chance in that scenario.

"I thought they culled all the kangaroos around the city," I said.

"It'd be impossible to get them all," Jamie said. "There were tons. They were culling them even before herdenmord."

I got a text from Sam just after talking to Uncle Bevis. It was basically a repeat of what Uncle Bevis said.

Get underground. Go to Blue Tree Hill. I'll be at the Byron bunker xx

Ok, I texted back. Be careful. Love you. xx

The string of words felt woefully insufficient, but the network was so overloaded I didn't even know if she'd get that much.

"Blue Tree Hill," I said, looking up at the others. "Have you ever heard of it?"

Jamie looked surprised. "You mean you haven't? They've talked about it on the news."

I shook my head. I tried to avoid news about herdenmord.

"It's an old bunker they built back when they thought there'd be a nuclear war. It's in Westerfolds Park." Aaden explained.

"Sam says we should go there," I said. "What do you think?"

"My parents have already gone there," Aaden said.

"Mine too," Dimi added.

"Mine are going somewhere in Albury," Jamie said, looking worried.

Mine were already dead. All the people I loved most were in this room. Except Sam and...

Quan.

I texted him. Are you okay?

All good. At my brother's. What about you?

We're all good. We're going to Blue Tree Hill tomorrow morning.

Us too. We should caravan. : )

Yeah. I'll text you tomorrow.

Outside, someone screamed.

(9133 Words)

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