The Bird Read online

  The Bird

  By RA Lewis

  Also by R.A. Lewis

  Novel, Fantasy

  Secrets & Swords

  Born of Air

  Short Story, Fantasy

  The Sellsword And The Beast

  The Sellsword And The Bandits

  The Sellsword And The Raven Girl

  The Sellsword And The Siren

  The Bird

  Copyright © 2019 R.A. Lewis

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.

  Katie’s scream woke me from my day dream. I bolted upright at the front desk, looking around for a customer to check in, or to get extra towels for, but there was nobody. I relaxed for a moment before a second terrified scream broke the silence of the hotel lobby. I ran from behind the front desk, frantically searching for my coworker.

  “Katie?” I heard scrabbling noises and a soft whimper coming from the foyer and I looked through the first set of automatic doors to find Katie pinned against the wall next to a potted plant, a pigeon on the floor in front of her. I smiled. We often get confused birds between the two sets of sliding doors, and I knew Katie was terrified of them. I reached for the forgotten broom Katie had dropped and entered the foyer, ready to take on the winged beast and save Katie.

  That’s when I noticed something wasn’t quite right about the bird. I stepped closer to investigate and that’s when Katie violently shaking her head caught my eye. Her eyes were wild, and I noticed that there were spots of blood all over her white work polo. I began to search for the source of the blood when the bird made a strangled cawing and I was forced to look down. It had no eyes; its little sockets that should have held beady black eyeballs were empty and bloody. Its wing was torn partially off and dragging behind it creating a bloody streak on the floor. Its beak was smeared in blood.

  My body went cold. This wasn’t an ordinary, run of the mill, stunned bird. This thing shouldn’t be walking around, let alone making noises and terrorizing people. I took the broom and brandished it like a hockey stick, and then I stepped closer to trigger the outer doors to open, and hit the bird out of the doors. It flew through the air and made a wet, sickening crunch as it hit the pavement outside. I watched in open mouthed horror as the thing got back up and began walking towards us once again. I quickly flipped the switch on the automatic doors to close them and lock them before the bird could enter the hotel again.

  Katie began sobbing behind me as the pathetic thing began banging itself against the closed glass doors. I watched it for a moment before turning to Katie who had her face buried in her hands and had slid down to crouch on the floor.

  “Katie, it’s okay, it’s over now.” I soothed as I put the broom aside and tried to comfort her. She shook with fear.

  “It pecked me!” Her voice was shrill and thick with sobs. She profered her hand for my inspection and I saw small, bloody puncture wounds on the back of her hand.

  “Let’s put up a sign saying to use the side entrance and then let’s get these cleaned up.” I helped her to stand and walked her to the back office where I left her to put up an out of order sign on the door. When I got to the front door, sign in hand, the crazed bird was nowhere to be seen. I unlocked the doors and walked out to the parking lot, looking everywhere for the stupid thing but saw nothing. I shrugged and went back inside, snagging the first aid kit from behind the front counter.

  Katie was lying on the sofa in the break room, one arm slung over her eyes, her injured hand spread out on the couch beside her. I opened the first aid kit and took out an alcohol wipe to clean the wounds.

  “This might sting. I’m sorry.” I wiped gently, but she barely flinched. I soon had them cleaned and had applied bandaids. “You might want to go get these seen too. Who knows what kind of crazy diseases that bird carried.” Katie nodded feebly. I felt pity for her. She had a known bird phobia and this must have been very traumatic for her. “Why don’t you go home. I can cover the desk until night shift comes in, there’s only five more check ins. And it’s still early, I bet urgent care is still open. Go there and let me know how it goes.” She nodded in assent and then stood to grab her things. Her eyes were bloodshot and red, her face streaked with dried tears. I walked her out to her car, once again checking for the deranged bird, but there was no sign of it.

  Hours later, I turned on the news on the lobby TV for some background noise as I cleaned up the lobby floor. A few guests had checked in as the evening had descended but none of them had mentioned an injured and crazed bird in the parking lot. I had the volume on low and wasn’t really paying attention when a breaking news alert flashed across the screen. I looked up, quickly reading the subtitles as they scrolled by.

  “Mysterious illness causing concern in urgent cares all across Lane county.” That caught my interest. I had sent Katie to urgent care hours ago. I went behind the counter and grabbed the remote, turning the volume up.

  “Hours ago, a patient checked herself into the Urgent Care at the University District. She was displaying concerning symptoms, including vomiting blood and bile, high fever, and disordered thinking. An hour later, another patient displaying the same symptoms checked themselves into the Urgent Care on West 11th. Both patients began displaying erratic and dangerous behavior and have been transferred via ambulance to Riverbend Hospital. One patient, it’s reported, even bit one of the paramedics!” I stood there, confused and dumbfounded. If it was Katie, and if she was that sick, wouldn’t I then be sick too? Or did the bird give her some strange disease? She seemed upset when she left but not sick. Surely this was completely unrelated. I shook my head in disbelief. I just hoped Katie hadn’t been at the urgent care when those ppl came in. I turned the TV off, anxiety stirring in my chest and tried to focus back on my tasks.

  Lydia showed up for her shift ten minutes late. All I wanted to do was go home, so I waved goodbye as I clocked out and grabbed my coat. It was turning to autumn here in the Pacific Northwest and I’d need the protection from the chill that was in the air.

  There were more cop cars out than normal and on the 5 mile drive home, I had to pull over to let three ambulances pass. Something was definitely going on in town tonight but I was too tired to care. Home was a second story apartment. My roommate was already asleep, her door closed shut, all the lights were off. I threw down some food for my cat, made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and then crashed into my bed.

  I awoke to the sound of my roommate screaming and a loud crashing noise. I leapt from bed, grabbing the baseball bat from beside my bedside table and yanked open my door. The apartment was gloomy as it was still early morning. My roommate usually was up early heading to work around this time as we worked opposite schedules. It was the perfect roommate arrangement. We communicated primarily via text message and I never had to see her unless I wanted to.

  I had never heard her scream before. My adrenaline was up, and I was immediately grateful I’d fallen asleep in my clothes from the night before as I walked through our frigid apartment. I had left the balcony door open slightly for my cat to come and go as she pleases and it was wide open now, a mess of glass covering the carpet before it.

  The sliding glass door had shattered, and as I approached with caution, I saw there were drips and drops
of blood all throughout the glass and blood dripped off the shattered pieces still stuck in the door frame. I sucked in a breath, my heart threatening to beat from my chest as I looked for the source of the blood. To the right, behind my kitchen table was a dark figure on the ground. As I watched, it began to stir.

  “Suanne?” I hedged, as I slid my feel forward carefully along the floor. A moaning grunt came from the figure. The grey, early morning light fell on the body as it moved, coming towards me in jerky movements. Horror filled me as I realized this was Suanne, but not the Suanne I knew. Her throat had been ripped out, blood splashing onto the vinyl tile that was our dining room floor. Flesh hung down, dripping with gore, her eyes were a bright red, and no intelligence shined from them, only a dead, primal, hungry look.

  She slipped and slid into the growing pool of her own blood as I backed up against the couch, panic overwhelming me as my brain tried to comprehend what I was seeing. This wasn’t Halloween, it wasn’t some elaborate prank; I could see the vertebrae of her neck through the gore. No special effects makeup was that good. I had seen enough zombie films to understand what was happening, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

  The thing that used to be Suanne was mere feet away now and I knew I had to act. It took immense effort to pull myself together but I tightened my grip on my baseball bat and when the creature lifted its head, gurgling at me, one bloody hand reaching for me, I swung. The bat smashed into the side of her head, making a sickening, squelching noise. Blood, bone fragments, and brain matter flew, splattering the walls and remaining glass in the sliding door. I hadn’t played softball since high school, but I had been known for my swing and I had broken my fair share of bats over the seasons. I had continued to play in college so my swing was still tremendous. The zombie, for that’s what I truly realized it was, slumped to the ground, the body seeming to deflate as it finally went still.

  I stood there, breathing hard, trying to get a hold of my senses. Somehow, he had been attacked, his throat ripped out, and then transformed all in the time it took me to get out of my bedroom and into the dining room. What had attacked him I wondered? We were on the second floor. I regripped my bat, looking around the room, searching for the culprit.

  That’s when I saw my cat, crouched on top of her cat tree, blood soaking her mouth, chin, and chest. Her eyes were wild, and red, and as she hissed and advanced towards me, I saw there was a bloody hole in her side. My heart shattered inside me. She was a zombie too, and I knew I would have to kill her. I began to cry as she hissed and spat, small flecks of blood spattering the air before me. I took aim, and swung as hard as I could, hoping to kill her quickly, mercifully. Her little body flew across the room and hit the wall with a dull splat before sliding down to the floor behind the couch. I burst into sobs, each one racking my body as the true horror of what had just happened to me washed over me in waves. Each new wave brought another more disturbing, horror filled, sad thought.

  What about my family? My friends? How was I going to survive this? What do I do now? My mind raced and I bent over, clutching my stomach as nausea rolled through me. I vomited the peanut butter and jelly sandwich onto the floor, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I knew I had to face this, a world I had only ever seen in pop culture. The reality was so much worse.

  After a few moments I began to get a hold of myself again. I sucked in deep breaths and tried to think. I reached for the TV remote and flipped it on, running through the channels until I got to a news one. A red banner scrolled across the bottom: Strange illness rocks the country. Stay inside and avoid others. I turned up the volume.

  “The illness that started in urgent cares across the county has spread and we are getting reports from the East Coast. Officials are advising that everyone stay inside and avoid crowded areas. The CDC is investigating and local National Guards will be mobilised shortly to maintain safety in your area. Please, don’t risk going out to stock up, the National Guard and FEMA will be going door to door with supplies while we figure out this crisis.” Fuck that. I wasn’t going to stay put.

  I thought back to all the movies I’d seen, and video games I had played over the years where zombies were involved. I needed supplies, and then I needed a more defensible position. I was on the second floor, but if animals were transmitting the disease, there was no way I could keep them out of a shattered glass door. I put my bat on the couch, in easy reach of the front door and then I ran to my room, changing into more suitable clothes. I packed my hiking backpack full of extra clothes and items I might find useful, along with as much non-perishable food as I could find. I grabbed my bat off the couch, and then I got the hell out of there.

  The roads were almost deserted. A few people flew by at top speed, driving like a bat out of hell. The Walmart across the street from the entrance to my neighborhood was teeming with people. They didn’t listen to the recommendations either. I wanted to get away from people as quickly as possible.

  I pulled out onto the main road carefully, looking in every direction for people, or more zombies. It was still very early in the morning, so I prayed most people were safe in their homes, sleeping, and that this hadn’t gotten far. An ambulance flew by me going the opposite direction as I made my way towards the freeway. I saw what appeared to be a homeless man staggering along the roadside, occasionally weaving into my lane. As I swerved around him, I saw a bloody wound in his chest. I shuddered as I continued on, heading east out of town and into the mountains. I hoped the CDC or whoever could contain this before it spread to the rest of North America.

  I drove for hours, only stopping once for gas. I weaved my way north through the mountains, preferring to stay on the move until I found someplace to stay. Finally, on my third night I was forced to stop for gas in a small town up towards Mt. Hood. Before I got out of my car, I sat by the pump, waiting for an attendant to come out to help but when no one came, I slowly and quietly made my way into the gas station, my bat in my hands.

  It was dark and eerily quiet. I was watching my feet for blood on the floor, or bodies when my shoulder bumped a sunglasses display and they clattered to the floor, their racket sounding like small explosions to my ears. My heart jumped into my throat and before they had even stopped falling, I could hear a thumping begin farther back in the gloom of the store. I sucked in a few deep breaths, waiting for my heart to calm down so I could differentiate between its pounding and pounding coming from somewhere near the cooler. I stepped further into the store, searching for the sound.

  Perhaps there was someone alive, and they had locked themselves into the cooler. A part of me knew it was stupid to investigate, that I should turn around and run, but I needed to know. The cooler door was jarring slightly with each new thump as I cautiously approached.

  “Hello?” I called out tentatively. “Is someone alive in there?” I reached out a hand slowly to grasp the handle, bracing myself for whatever was behind the door. I was so focused on the door before me that I didn’t hear the light, shuffling footsteps behind me.

  Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in the crook between my neck and shoulder. I screamed, releasing the handle for the cooler door as I spun around. There was a ripping sound and my shirt was suddenly drenched with warmth as whatever had a hold of me was torn away. I steadied myself and saw that a zombie had crept up behind me and bitten me on the shoulder. I clutched at my right shoulder, gasping in horror and pain as the zombie before me made a second lunge. I swung my bat with my injured arm, it connected with the side of the man’s head but not hard enough to kill him. He fell to his knees, groaning loudly. I swung again, and again, beating him down to the floor, blood and brains, and bone spattering my face and arms as I beat him, each swing becoming feebler and feebler.

  Soon I stood, panting, my heart racing, spittle dribbling from my mouth, my eyes wild, ankle deep in the gore covering the floor beneath me. I was dead. And I knew it. I couldn’t believe that I had been bitten. Couldn’t believe that very shortly it seemed, I would soon tur
n. I couldn’t subject others to that, couldn’t allow them to die at my hands. I dropped my bat, no need for it now, and stumbled and ran for my car. I threw the door open and leapt into the front seat, turning the key with mad abandon. My car sputtered a moment before roaring to life. I threw it into drive and pressed the pedal to the floor.

  I would end this my way. I would go out fighting, no turning into a mindless zombie to wander the earth and infect others. As my car reached 100 miles per hour, I swerved off the road.

  I would end this my way.

  The End

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  About the Author

  R.A. Lewis is a debut fantasy author and Secrets and Swords is her first published novel. She lives in Oregon with her husband, two dogs, four cats, and hundreds of fish. R.A. Lewis has two degrees from the University of Oregon in Psychology and Sociology and loves to address mental illness, trauma, and the human experience within her writing. When she’s not pulling her hair out writing, she enjoys reading, daydreaming, spending time with her husband and dogs, watching zombie movies/shows, swimming, and napping.

  You can visit her on Facebook (R.A.LewisAuthor), Instagram (@author.r.a.lewis), Pinterest (authorralewis), or Twitter (@RALewis10).

 

 

  R A Lewis, The Bird

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