The Fog - James Herbert [41]
He struggled with the latch on the door, noticing that some of the newer birds were still on the roof of the wooden hut. They always took a little while to learn how to get back inside the coop. They’d soon follow the example of the others. ‘Claude, come on, darling, where are you?’ He switched on the bicycle lamp he kept hanging up inside the hut, the sudden light causing several of the birds to flutter around in panic.
‘It’s all right, darling, its only me. I won’t hurt you.’ Herbert closed the door behind him so that none of the pigeons could escape. He had to crouch low as the sloping roof of the hut was not high enough to allow a grown man to stand. He quickly checked over the birds, counting them, making sure none had received any injuries. He finally spotted Claude, perched high in the corner of the hut, not moving, but a gentle cooing coming from its throat.
‘Hello, old Claude. D’you miss me?’ He lurched towards the older pigeon trying not to disturb the others. He was unaware of the sudden silence that had descended upon them, or that they were now all perfectly still.
‘Well, Claude, what have you got to say for yourself, eh?’ He reached for the pigeon and gently picked it up. Holding it close to his face, he began to stroke its breast, making soft clucking noises. ‘You know who’s boss, don’t you? You know who’ll look after you.’
The bird’s head suddenly shot forward and its beak pecked at Herbert’s bleary eye. He screamed out in pain and fell back among the perches, releasing his grip on his pet bird. The whole hut erupted into a whirlwind of screeching, fluttering bodies as the birds flew at him from all sides. He raised his arms to protect his face, but they pecked at his hands viciously, causing thin trickles of blood to run down them. He swiped at them wildly, sending their frail bodies crashing into the sides of the coop, several falling to the floor again, unable to rise, feebly fluttering their broken wings in a useless attempt to reach him. But still the others continued their attack, flapping their wings at his head, pecking at his crouched body, finding exposed flesh, drawing tiny dots of blood.
Suddenly, part in rage, part in panic, Herbert grabbed at one of the feathered bodies and, with a cry of anguish, crushed its tiny bones with his hands. But the movement had left his face exposed and three of the pigeons immediately flew at it, one clinging to his neck, the other two striking at his cheeks and eyes. He was already half-blinded and now felt his other eye pop as he released the dead bird and tried to protect his face again. The shock forced him to his feet, thrashing out violently, smashing the birds to the ground, crushing them with his feet as he staggered blindly towards the small doorway. But in the turmoil, in the confusion of flying bodies, beating wings, the shrieks of the birds, his own cries of fear, his pain, he had lost all sense of direction and crashed into the side of the hut, knocking himself to the ground.
As he lay there, arms outstretched, stunned by the fall, the pigeons flurried on to his heaving chest and continued their combined onslaught. He kicked out, sobbing with the horror of it, and managed to roll over in the confined space, squashing the birds that still clung to him. Raising himself to one knee, feeling the sharp pecks at his neck and shoulders, but now almost oblivious to the pain, he stretched out one hand towards the side of the coop. His fingers curled through and round the wire mesh of one of its windows and he slowly pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the pigeon that had settled on his hand and was biting at his raw knuckes. Some inner sense informed him of the direction of the door based on the portion of the wire window he clung to. The pain now was on its second wave and it broke through the protective barrier his fear had set up.
He screamed aloud, shaking, shuddering his entire body, flailing his limbs, and lumbered towards the small exit, still covered in feathered, tormenting bodies. Unable to see the torch, he sent it flying as he