Micro - Michael Crichton [109]
Rick dashed for the truck, grabbed the gas rifle. “They’re mynahs!” he shouted. “Get cover!”
Mynahs were carnivores.
Danny had tumbled out of the truck, and he cowered underneath it. Karen had thrown herself down behind a rock, while Erika wedged herself down into clumps of moss. Rick knelt in the open, holding the gas rifle, watching the black shapes as they swept past the cliff, their cries streaming in the wind.
The birds saw him. They had no fear of something so small. A mynah cruised in and landed, and hopped across the ground toward him. He fired at the bird. The gun erupted with a hiss, kicking him backward, but at that instant the mynah leaped into the air and soared away, downwind. He had missed. He reloaded frantically, slamming another pin into the chamber. The gun was a bolt-action rifle: it fired one projectile at a time.
He thought there must be twenty or thirty of them, anyway. They swirled around the cliffs, their cries deafening. “They hunt in packs,” Rick said.
Another mynah landed.
He pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.
“Shit!”
A jam. He frantically worked the bolt. The bird took one hop toward him and cocked an eye at him. Then it pecked at him, and grabbed the gun. It was a shiny object; it had attracted the bird’s eye. The mynah slammed the gun against a rock, crumpling it, and tossed it aside. Then it held up its head, opened its beak, and howled, letting out a cry that seemed to make the ground shake.
Rick, meanwhile, had thrown himself flat, and was crawling for the harpoon, which lay near the pool.
The mynah turned its attention to Erika, who cowered in the moss. She crouched, staring up at the bird, and suddenly lost her nerve. She broke and ran, ducking her head, whimpering.
“Don’t, Erika!” Rick shouted at her.
Erika’s motion drew the bird’s attention, and it hopped toward her.
Karen King had been watching, and she made a sudden decision. She would sacrifice her life for Erika. She would give Erika a chance to live. It was good while it lasted, she thought, and stood up and ran toward the bird, waving her arms. “Hey! Take me!”
The bird swerved, and pecked at Karen, but missed her, and she went sprawling. Erika had now jumped into the truck and was attempting to start it. Erika had gone into a full-blown panic; she didn’t know what she was doing, other than trying to get away. Danny shouted at her, “Stop! I order you to stop!” Erika paid no attention. The truck lurched off, and began climbing upward along the rocks. But it was very exposed.
She was deserting the others.
“Erika! Turn around!” Karen screamed.
Erika had gone past the point of hearing anybody.
The truck, shiny and moving up the cliff, its six legs working, must have seemed like something tasty or interesting. A mynah coasted in and plucked Erika out of the driver’s seat. Packs and gear flew out of the truck as it tumbled down the cliff and bounced out into sheer air. And then it was gone.
The mynah landed, carrying Erika Moll in its beak. The bird slammed her several times against the cliff, whipping its head back and forth to kill its prey. The bird then took off, carrying the corpse. Immediately it got into a squabble with another mynah, and they fought with each other over the remains of Erika Moll, and tore the body apart in midair.
It wasn’t over. Rick had gotten his hands on the harpoon, and he looked around: where was Karen? She was lying on the ground, out in the open, underneath a mynah. The bird, which had an unusual black streak on its bill, had landed, and was staring down at Karen. It seemed to be trying to make up its mind about her. Was this thing edible?
“Karen!” Rick shouted, and threw