Nat waited. In the distance he could see something black. Slowly the black thing became a cloud which divided and then divided again into other clouds, spreading north, south east and west. But they were not clouds at all. They were birds- hundreds of them, thousands of them, tens of thousands of them.
They were flying inland to attack the towns.
The bus came up the hill and stopped. Jill climbed out with three or four other children.
“Come on now, it’s time to get home,” Nat said to Jill’s friends.
“It’s cold. Run as fast as you can.”
“We want to play out here for a bit,” said one of them.
“No, you don’t. Go straight home.”
Nat held Jill’s hand and started running. As they went past the farm, he saw the farmer in his van. Nat called to the farmer and asked if he could drive Jill home.
“She’s frightened of the birds,” he said.
The farmer agreed and asked if Nat would like to stay behind and try and shoot the seagulls with him.
“No, I’ll go home,” said Nat. “If I don’t, my wife will be worried. Have you boarded up your windows?”
“No. What for? The birds don’t frighten me.”
“I’d board them up now if I were you.”
Nat was hurrying home when a gull suddenly flew at him from the sky. In a moment it was joined by others, six, seven, ten. Nat covered his head with his arms and ran towards the house. They attacked him from the air. He could feel the blood on his hands, his arms and his neck. He reached the door to his house and fell inside. His wife was pale and shaking.
“Why doesn’t the government do something? Why don’t they get the army, get guns, anything?”
Then there were sounds at the windows, at the door. The birds were trying to get in. Now and again came a crash.
“We’re safe enough now,” thought Nat. “It’s Just the food that worries me. We’ve got enough for two or three days but not more.”
Nat waited. In the distance he could see something black. Slowly the black thing became a cloud which divided and then divided again into other clouds, spreading north, south east and west. But they were not clouds at all. They were birds- hundreds of them, thousands of them, tens of thousands of them.
They were flying inland to attack the towns.
The bus came up the hill and stopped. Jill climbed out with three or four other children.
“Come on now, it’s time to get home,” Nat said to Jill’s friends.
“It’s cold. Run as fast as you can.”
“We want to play out here for a bit,” said one of them.
“No, you don’t. Go straight home.”
Nat held Jill’s hand and started running. As they went past the farm, he saw the farmer in his van. Nat called to the farmer and asked if he could drive Jill home.
“She’s frightened of the birds,” he said.
The farmer agreed and asked if Nat would like to stay behind and try and shoot the seagulls with him.
“No, I’ll go home,” said Nat. “If I don’t, my wife will be worried. Have you boarded up your windows?”
“No. What for? The birds don’t frighten me.”
“I’d board them up now if I were you.”
Nat was hurrying home when a gull suddenly flew at him from the sky. In a moment it was joined by others, six, seven, ten. Nat covered his head with his arms and ran towards the house. They attacked him from the air. He could feel the blood on his hands, his arms and his neck. He reached the door to his house and fell inside. His wife was pale and shaking.
“Why doesn’t the government do something? Why don’t they get the army, get guns, anything?”
Then there were sounds at the windows, at the door. The birds were trying to get in. Now and again came a crash.
“We’re safe enough now,” thought Nat. “It’s Just the food that worries me. We’ve got enough for two or three days but not more.”
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