“Birds? I don’t know. In Dutch Harbor, the gulls tend to get out of town ahead of any incoming squalls. I suppose the gulls around here do the same.” He withdrew a set of metal tongs from his backpack and clacked them in her direction. “Fifteen minutes and we’ll be eating.”

Still wondering about the birds, Kathy scanned the trees. And then she spotted it—a rainbow-plumed bird staring down at them from its twenty-foot-high perch in a nearby coconut palm. She couldn’t imagine how she’d missed it at first; its bright plumage stood out against the brown and green of the trees.

“Hey, look, Brad. It seems like not all of the birds flew away.”

“Oh, wow. It’s beautiful. I wonder what kind of bird that is?”

With one hand shading the sun from his eyes, Brad approached the palm tree. Suddenly the bird dropped off its perch and dove directly at him. Brad ducked, and the bird careened off his arm and flew back into the trees.

“What the hell!”

Kathy hopped up on the balls of her feet and called out, “Get away from the tree. It probably has a nest that it’s defending.”

Brad blotted his white shirt against his arm, producing a bloody stain. “That bag of feathers took a chunk out of me!”

Kathy pulled the first-aid kit from Brad’s backpack. “You don’t want that getting infected.”

Brad shook his head. “I swear that thing came right at my face. If I didn’t already have my arm up…”

Kathy ripped open an alcohol swab and smiled. “Come here, you big baby. Let me clean you up.”

She wiped the blood away, revealing that a pencil-thick chunk of flesh had been gouged from his forearm. “Damn, it really did take a bite out of you. You’re lucky it didn’t get you in the eye.”

Brad scowled toward the coconut palm. “I’ve never seen a bird launch itself—”

He ripped his arm from Kathy’s grasp and swung it viciously at her head. She gasped as his hand flew just past her right ear. Kathy staggered, nearly losing her balance.

“Got you!” he cried.

Stunned, Kathy followed Brad’s gaze. On the ground behind her lay the broken body of the rainbow-plumed bird.

“That thing was pissed,” Brad said. “It was like a dart going right for the side of your face.”

A series of staccato chirps sounded from the palm trees. Kathy wondered if those were hatchlings calling for their mother, and she felt heartsick.

But then at least a dozen more of the rainbow-plumed birds emerged from within the palm fronds.

“Brad,” she said, an icy chill washing over her, “let’s get out of here. There are more of those birds.”

In unison, as if by some unheard silent command, all of the birds dropped from their perches and dove right at them.