The Far Wild

34 - Overgrown Poultry

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Senesio

“Get the gate open, Suni. I’ll handle the big chickens,” I said, then burst into a sprint. The shadows of the ruined building fell away and I was back in the blistering heat of the sun. In full view of the approaching terror birds, too.

I smiled and drew my sword without breaking stride.

The nearest bird reared up tall, as if surprised, then screeched and lunged forward. Its beak snapped closed with a resounding snap, but I had already spun away. I made to bring a blow down on the creature’s exposed neck, but movement in the corner of my eye changed the blow into a parry. Claws met blade as I deflected a slash from the second bird.

“Two versus one, now that’s hardly fair,” I said, then whipped my blade around and cut into the wing of the second bird. It squawked and reared back, but I leveled my sword in front of me and skewered the thing through the chest. Feathers and blood flew, and I let a smirk slip onto my face. “Hardly fair for you, that is.”

The bird’s squawk boiled into a scream as I slid my sword from it and danced around a charge from its companion.

The mortally wounded bird fell over backward, wings flapping to further fill the air with feathers and blood—enough to get the attention of the rest of the flock.

I turned to find them sprinting toward me, heads lowered and beaks wide. The ground thundered with their charge.

“Get that gate open!” I yelled back to Suni a second time, but there wasn’t time to check if she’d heard. I slid my sword into its sheath, blood and all, and burst into a sprint. Away from the birds and, more importantly, away from the rear gate. My arms pumped as my legs carried me swiftly forward, the humid air whipping past, but there was no outrunning the flock. I’d never beat them in a dead sprint.

A good thing that wasn’t the plan.

I darted around the Welkin, hugging its smooth curved hull. As I reached the bow I leaned hard into a turn. My feet dug into the ground, slipping and kicking up ash as they fought to gain purchase. Then they caught and held firm. I jerked to a stop, then sprinted hard to the side. The first bird rounded the bow, saw my change of direction, and tried to follow. Its weight was too much for the unsteady soil, though, and it toppled over, screeching at me as it rolled away.

“Hah!” I cheered, jeering at the squawking, tumbling ball of feathers. I swallowed hard, however, a moment later as the rest of the flock wizened up and slowed to make the turn.

I veered to the left toward a scorched building that had most of its front wall still standing. The top half of the doorway was blocked by fallen debris, but I dropped onto my knees and leaned back into a slide. Momentum carried me under the debris and into the shadows of the building.

“I’m just too smooth,” I said, rising and wiping some dirt from my side. “You overgrown poultry can’t keep up.”

The wall exploded inward as the first bird plowed right through it. It stumbled, looking dazed for a moment, then shook its head and locked eyes on me.

“Well, perhaps I spoke too soon.”

I sprinted again, planting a hand on a table and flinging myself over it, then moving through the building’s back room and out into the sun again. Several more crashes followed, and the flock emerged behind me, coated in dust and splinters, but still hot on my heels.

I made for the ruins of what had once been a lookout tower. The support beams were mostly still standing, though thoroughly scorched. The closest had fallen so much that it leaned at a forty-five-degree slant. I jumped atop it at a full sprint, then slowed a pace, arms outstretched to keep my balance as the beam led me higher and the ground fell away with each step.

The first of the flock reached the beam. One massive foot came down on it and set the whole thing to shaking. It bucked beneath my feet, near flinging me off, but I lunged forward and threw myself at the next beam. This one was standing straight. I slammed into the thing, then wrapped my arms and legs tight around it.

Breath coming hard, I shimmied up the beam. Wings buffeted the air, and then my foot was pulled back down as a beak clamped shut on it.

“Gah!”

I strained, fighting the weight, then jerked upward as my boot ripped away. Free!

I shimmied harder than before, not stopping until I reached the top of the beam. Hugging it tight, I looked down to find the flock gathered around its base. They fought over my boot, tearing it into scraps in the span of a heartbeat. When it was gone they paused, then, almost as one, raised their eyes up to me.