Sheriff O’Hurn bundled Peter into the Jeep, his eyes all ablaze with hurried expressions like Move!, Scooch over and Brace yourself. But there was no time for the actual words or any niceties. He shoved Peter across to the passenger seat, clambering in after him, and quickly shut the door behind them. He grabbed the steering wheel. But he didn’t reach for the ignition to drive them away to safety. The keys jangled in place and the sheriff closed his eyes. Peter fell back into his seat, staring out across the bonnet, and the rest of the birds followed.

A hundred loons drove into the concrete. Peter recoiled and a dozen bodies pummelled the hood. Blood splattered the windscreen. The Jeep jolted on its chassis. But the attack was over in seconds. In one swift move, the birds plunged to their deaths and the parking lot fell still.

14

The figurine of a little girl in a grass skirt with flowers in her hair jiggled on top of the dashboard. The motion of the car caused the toy to move at the hip, and even though she was only made of plastic and her painted features had been applied too crudely to be pretty, her little dance had a kind of enchantment about it. Peter watched her for a while, wondering what magical land she had come from and, if it were real, how they’d coped with the Dead, and for a few moments at least he forgot his worries for Cooper. But after a while, the girl stopped dancing, making her smile seem even more fixed, and Peter became aware of a sharp pain in his hand. He looked down, releasing the tight grip he had on the door handle, then remembered to breathe. The sheriff leaned forward, pulling the trapper hat from his head to wipe condensation from the windscreen, and gazed up into the rolling skies.

“Well, I’ll be.”

Peter cleared his throat and said nothing.

“You all right, son?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“I think so. Is it over?”

“Yup,” said the sheriff. “I reckon they’re just about cooked, all right.”

“They just came clean out of the sky.”

“That they did.”

“But why?”

“Well, they ain’t called loons for nothin’.”

“They came for us.”

“Now, don’t be getting all jumpy on me.”

“But—”

“Birds seeking shelter from a storm try to find open water is all.”

“But they—”

“They weren’t to know the parking lot weren’t no lake,” said the sheriff, pulling a Thermos flask out from under his seat. “Especially when the cars are under so much snow. Accidents like this used to happen all the time in urban areas.”

“They did?”