Rob Chilson
Rob now has his own domain at www.robchilson.com
DEAD MEN WALK, BUT NOT TOO WELL--
Bernie McKay realized who he was, and what his Purpose
was: Revenge.
Angie, he thought. And Gibson, but mainly
Angie. Swaying, he turned from the dark pool from which he'd been born,
and looked across the world. From here to Oswego was not over thirty minutes
in a car.
It was going to take him a couple of days,
Bernie realized. For one thing, he wasn't moving very well. For another,
he mustn't be seen; if he was, his revenge would go glimmering. ...
It was slow going. Patience, he told himself.
I've got lots of time. Dear Angie will wait for me, won't you, dear? I
know you will. . . .
At long intervals he circled three houses,
dreading dogs more than people, and was hopeful of soon coming into forested
regions. Then came the birds.
The blue jays found him first, shrieking and
yelling and swooping about. Some called him "Thief!" and others disagreed,
calling him "Jay!" Their quarrel brought the crows.
At first Bernie's fear was that the swarming
yelling confusion would attract attention to him. ... Then a crow landed
on the shoulder of his blue suit and aimed a peck at his eye with its big
blunt beak. He jerked away and it missed, striking him over the cheekbone.
He felt no pain, merely a jolt. Horrified, he watched it gulp the pale
shred off lesh it had torn free.
He brushed it off, crying "Get away!"
His voice came out with a great hoarse sawing
sound, not unlike the voices of the crows. Other crows swooped at his face.
He felt blows to the back of his neck. Desperately he stumbled into a staggering
run, the birds swooping and screaming and cawing about him, the crows going
for his eyes, or any area of exposed skin. Stark fear of blindness went
through him. ...
Head down, hands above it, he stumbled across
the field while the birds attacked. Alfred Hitchcock would've loved this,
he thought wildly.
ConQuesT - Kansas City - May, 2004