Chris Pourteau - Tails of the Apocalypse

“No, Gray, I just…” Joe stopped, quailing under Gray’s stare. “You’re right.”

“Cheer up, Joe. They’re going to be useful. They’ll pull plows and carts, they’ll intimidate enemies, they’ll provide a way to work off tension without anyone getting hurt. They’re going to be valuable and they’ll be comfortable as long as they stay useful. It’s not a bad life. Now, planning all this? That’s hard work. Making me hungry,” he grinned, never taking his gaze away from Joe. “Walt, help me wrangle that pig.”

Walt looked around the dim room. “Sooey!” he laughed. Joe looked uneasy.

“Help us catch it, Joe,” said Gray, staring harder at him. “If you help us catch it, I won’t make you kill it yourself.”

Surly fluttered and rocked on her perch as Joe sighed and looked around him. She and Princess had never been friends, but she didn’t want to see a slaughter either. “Pretty Princess!” she screeched, trying to warn the pig. “Pretty Princess, pretty pig! Nuh-night! Nuh-night!” She rocked on the perch, swinging the entire cage, trying to think of other warning words the shop owner had used on occasion.

“Joe!” shouted Gray over Surly Shirley’s raucous shrieks. “Shut that bird up, it’s driving me crazy.” He picked up a dog toy and flung it at the cage. It went wide.

“Nuh-night, Princess!” Surly cried.

Joe abandoned his search for the pig and climbed onto a step stool, catching the swinging cage and holding it still between his hands. Surly beat her wings toward him, but he didn’t let go. “It’s okay, Princess,” said Joe, thinking the parrot was shrieking its own name.

Surly stopped and stared at him. How could he mistake her for the pig?

“That’s a pretty Princess,” said Joe, foolishly sticking a thick finger into the cage to stroke her feathers. Surly bit it. Hard. Joe hissed as she held on tight, but he didn’t yell. “It’s okay, Princess, I know you’re scared. We’ll get out of here soon.”

Surly hadn’t expected that. She let go of the salty finger. “Surly Shirley,” she cooed. “Surly Shirley.”

“I don’t know who Shirley is, but I don’t think she’s coming back,” said Joe, sucking his finger briefly, then fumbling in his pocket for a moment. He pulled out a wrinkled plastic bag.

“Surly Shirley wants a cracker. Princess is a pretty pig,” she responded, curious to see if he’d get it.

“Oh, you’re Shirley—”

“Joe,” yelled Gray, “stop talking to that chicken and help us. This pig is heavy.”

“Here you go, Shirley,” he said softly and pulled out a dried apple slice from the bag. He poked it through the cage bars and then looked around. The pig wriggled between Gray and Walt, who were standing in front of the back door. Joe stepped down from the ladder to let them into the back of the store.

“Nuh-night, Princess,” chirped Surly quietly. The large flashlight the men had brought with them bounced its beam off the silent aquariums, flashing green beams over the shop. Princess began squealing her fear, and the dogs barked, excited, though they didn’t know why.

Surly puffed her feathers up and turned around on the perch. She didn’t want to see Princess get murdered through the aquarium glass. She worked at the cage latch as the pig’s distress reached a crescendo. Princess had bought her a chance to escape. Surly wasn’t going to lose it.

She looked around the shop, distracting herself with memories. It was the only home she’d ever known. What was out there, beyond the long, tiled hallway? More birds like her? More men like Gray? When the store owner hadn’t returned, she’d thought the humans were all gone. Were they just waiting to catch her out there instead? Where could she go? Maybe there was another pet shop somewhere. She’d never know if she didn’t find a way out. She glided from the cage over the top of a shelf, just barely clearing the broken window.

The mall was dark and silent except for the large clothing store that capped the end. It glowed with lanterns, and a rippling moan seemed to travel forever through it. That’s where the other humans were. Surly didn’t want to go there, so she flapped toward the other end, her wings stiff but warming to the unaccustomed exercise. Sterile glass and stone were all that she found. A long barren tunnel of window and floor. No water, no trees, no fruit.

She was still inside the mall. But there had to be a way out. The humans had to have come from somewhere. Then she rounded a corner and saw it. Sunlight and trees waving in a breeze. She could almost feel the wind.

Surly swooped low and fast before anything could stop her, before anyone could catch her and force her back into her cage. She smacked into the glass door with a dull thud and toppled onto the floor. Dazed, she simply sat for a while and stared at the green leaves of the tree just outside. When her head cleared, Surly hopped around looking for a break or a breath of fresh air.

Nothing.

At last she turned and flew back to the pet shop. Where else was there to go? It was the only home she’d ever had.

But Surly knew the men wouldn’t be satisfied with Princess for very long. She might well be on the menu tomorrow. She couldn’t give up. She had to find her way out of the mall. Whatever was waiting for her outside, at least she’d meet it head on, instead of waiting around to be eaten like the pig.

The squealing had stopped by the time she slipped back into her cage. The puppies had settled down, though they occasionally scratched at the back door of the shop and whined. She knew what it meant. Surly wouldn’t be competing with Princess for fruit anymore. She poked with her beak at the sliver of apple that Joe had given her. She picked it up, holding it carefully in one claw, and pushed open the cage door with her head. Princess’s pink plastic food bowl glimmered in the half-light, cleaned to a shine days before. Surly swooped over it, dropping the soft, sweet apple slice into it. The sound of one of the men retching startled her and she fluttered back to her perch.

“Useless…” came Gray’s voice from behind the fish tanks. “Go build a fire to cook it.”

“A fire? Out of what?”

“Find something! I swear Joe Mackey, I should’ve left you in that pool hall for the Infected to kill.”

“Sorry, Gray, I’ll find something.”

Joe emerged from the back and shut the door. He knelt down for just a moment to stroke the puppies jumping at his legs, then stood up. He found the pet care books and began tossing them into a pile in the center of the linoleum floor. Surly watched him smash one of the wooden shelving units into small pieces with an ax.

The parakeets and cockatoos fluttered and chirped and whistled in protest at the noise, but Surly was silent. She was resolved not to miss any opportunity, and she sat grim and unmoving as she watched Joe and the shop door. He lit the large pile of wood and paper, and the flames startled Surly. A billowy plume of smoke rose to envelop her cage and she couldn’t see. She wheezed in the thick cloud. “Bad bird!” she protested, because it had been what the owner yelled at her whenever he wanted her to stop what she was doing. “Bad bird!”

A few seconds later, Joe emerged from the cloud of smoke, pressing his face to the bars. “Sorry Shirley,” he said, unhooking her cage. He swung it down onto the shop’s counter. “Wasn’t thinking about the smoke.” She was only a few feet from the door now, but it was still blocked and closed. Joe bent down to look at her.

“Bad bird!” she spat once more, glaring at him.

“Sorry,” he said, reaching a finger in to stroke her feathers. She bit him again, but only lightly and let go so she could accept his petting her. “I won’t do it again.” He pulled out the plastic bag again and offered her another apple slice.