It began to rain, an unpleasant, slap-your-skin sort of a rain. This only made tracking the creature that much more difficult. As Dylan moved through the trees he noticed an odd sound. It was a clicking, almost a tapping.
He stopped, afraid to move as he realized there was not just one sound, but at least three from different directions. The sound stopped when he stopped. He moved forward and it began again.
His stomach was churning and his head hurt. His lungs had forgotten how to breathe, as he realized that he was being hunted. Hunted by a group. The rain increased and he could barely see in front of him, but there was one thing for sure, the noise seemed to be getting louder.
Louder meant closer. Closer meant … run!
Dylan ran, falling and slipping, until he twisted his ankle stepping into a hole. He looked around for a place to hide.
The rain stopped as suddenly as it had started and he had an idea. He took his backpack and began throwing the contents out all around him to distract them. But it only bought him a few seconds as he heard rustling and crashing.
He ran, limping badly, until he came upon a stream.
The stream was rocky, the water fast and deep. He thought he might lose them if he could just get across. Making it half-way he was tired and hurting so he sat on a rock in the middle.
That was the first time he’d gotten a good look at them. They were huge, a good two feet taller than he was; half-bird, half-lizard, and they had razor-sharp beaks like a vulture. Just like the farmer had said. He was right, they didn’t like getting into the water or slipping on the small stones. They screeched at him in anger as he made it across and ran, stopping briefly on the other side.
He wiggled a tiny camera out of his wet, aimed and took as many pictures as he had time for. “Got it!”
Just then a pigeon with a patch on his eye landed on a rock across from him. Then a large pigeon swooped down with…he couldn’t believe it…a phone headset on. They stared at him, nodded, and then flew off.
“I must be losing it…going crazy.” He rubbed his eyes and the pigeons were gone.
Suddenly he heard splashing and he froze in terror. The birds were leaping across the water. He stared and then raced through the forest, cleared a line of trees, and screeched to a stop, almost toppling over the side of a cliff.
“No!” he whispered. “No, no, no…”
Before him was a valley--a valley filled with hundreds and hundreds and HUNDREDS of Terror Birds.
And they all stopped.
And turned.
And stared right at him.