فصل 12

CHAPTER 12

ONLY BIRDS

THEY WERE SURROUNDED BY CROWDS all that day as their parents took them out on one last round of sightseeing before their return to the United States. Sarah kept a tight grip on the backpack, and they both spent more time nervously scanning the sky than looking at whatever sight they were supposed to be seeing. But there was no sign of the ravens.

They took turns sleeping that night; Aidan stayed up until two a.m., then woke up Sarah, who kept watch until dawn. Both of them glanced a hundred times at the window; both of them tensed each time they heard footsteps in the hall. But as far as they could tell, the birds had not returned, and nobody came to their door.

They argued, sometimes heatedly, about what to do with the box. Aidan insisted that they had to get rid of it, either by turning it over to the police or simply leaving it behind. Sarah didn’t trust the police and was utterly opposed to abandoning the box.

The argument resumed after breakfast as they packed for the trip home.

“If we keep it,” said Aidan, jamming a pair of jeans into his suitcase, “he’ll come after us again.”

“If we leave it,” she answered, “he’ll get it.”

“Sarah, you saw what happened to the doorman. Do you want that to happen to us?”

“No,” Sarah answered, grunting as she zipped her bulging suitcase closed. “But it won’t happen to us, because we’re leaving England.”

“What if he comes after us?”

“Aidan, we’ll be an ocean away.”

“How do you know he won’t come?”

“It’s too far, Aidan. He lives here. The birds live here.”

Aidan was silent for a minute. Then he said, “You don’t really know. You’re just guessing. I’m going to tell Dad and Mom.”

Sarah stared at him. “You wouldn’t,” she said softly.

Tears welled in Aidan’s eyes. “I would,” he said. “I’m not going to die for that stupid box. I hate that we ever found it. Leave it here, or I’m telling them. Do you understand me?”

Sarah held his gaze for a moment, then turned away.

“Yes,” she said. “I understand.”

Heathrow Airport was, as always, insane—its endless, dingy corridors a chaotic swarm of travelers arriving from and departing for points all over the world. It took the Coopers an hour to get boarding passes, check their luggage, and make their way to the security checkpoint. They shuffled along in line, finally reaching the screening area, where they placed their carry-on bags onto the belt for the X-ray machine—Tom first, followed by Natalie, Aidan, and Sarah.

“Whose bag is this?” said a security screener, pointing to Sarah’s backpack as it emerged from the machine.

“Mine,” said Sarah.

“I’m just going to have a look,” said the screener. Sarah nodded. Aidan looked back at her; she avoided his gaze.

Ahead of them, their parents were gathering their carryons; Natalie was talking about doing some duty-free shopping.

“Sarah,” said Aidan.

She shook her head.

The screener had opened the backpack and was poking around inside. He pointed to something and said, “What’s this?”

“A jewelry box,” said Sarah. Aidan started to say something; she held up a hand to stop him.

“Is this gold?” asked the screener.

“Yes,” said Sarah. The screener studied it for a moment, then pushed the backpack across the table to Sarah with a look that said, Unbelievable, these rich Americans.

“Thank you,” said Sarah, trying not to betray her relief as she picked up the backpack. She brushed past Aidan, not meeting his furious gaze, and started toward where their parents stood waiting in the huge, bustling lounge area.

Aidan grabbed her arm, stopping her. “You lied to me, Sarah,” he hissed.

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. You said you’d leave it.”

“I didn’t say that, Aidan. I said I understood you. And I do. You don’t want to be part of this. Okay, I understand. You don’t have to be part of it.”

“But how can I—”

“Will you kids hurry it up?” called Tom, striding toward them, irritated.

Aidan looked toward their father.

“Aidan,” Sarah whispered urgently. “Please don’t tell him. Please.”

For a few seconds they stared into each other’s eyes. Then Aidan jerked his arm loose and began walking. When he reached Tom, he stopped and looked back.

Please, Sarah mouthed.

Without speaking to his father, Aidan turned and started walking again.

Outside on the airport ramp, about a hundred yards from the lounge, a baggage handler stood next to a jet being readied for departure to the United States. He was awaiting a baggage tug.

Had he turned around, he would have seen a large raven landing twenty feet from where he stood.

And then another, and another…

Had the baggage handler looked up, he would have seen many more of the birds, some on the edge of the terminal roof, others perched along the windows.

The ravens had started gathering two hours earlier, when the Coopers had emerged from the hotel. As they climbed into their taxi, a bird perched on the hotel roof had emitted a cry and taken wing. It was quickly joined by others from nearby trees and rooftops. By the time the taxi was passing Hyde Park, there were a dozen black birds flying above it through the light fog. As the taxi pulled onto the M5 motorway, the dozen had become fifty. Soon there were more than a hundred. Flights of birds were no strange sight in London. Geese and ducks sometimes flew in gigantic Vs, slicing across the London sky like arrows. The few people who saw the ravens thought nothing of it. It was only birds.

When the taxi reached Heathrow Airport and the Coopers went inside, the ravens had dispersed—some going to the roof, some perching near windows. As the Coopers made their way through the terminal, passing windows along the way, the birds shifted, getting ever closer to the U.S.-bound jet, where a growing mass of them now gathered behind the baggage handler.

Sensing their motion, the handler turned and almost jumped at the sight of so many birds. He thought they must have been feeding on something, as they were so concentrated. Birds posed a danger to jet engines, so he stepped closer to shoo them away. He expected them to flee at his approach.

They didn’t flee. Instead they condensed into a tightly packed mass and, moving as one, rose into a shape that looked remarkably like a human silhouette. The baggage handler, more astonished than scared—they were only birds, after all—wished he had a camera. He was about to call out for his coworkers to come have a look.

That was when his shadow touched the edge of the mass of birds.

And that was the last thing he remembered.

Moments later, his eyes now pitch-black and expressionless, he opened one of the plane’s rear cargo doors. Instantly, the mass of birds changed shape. Looking now like a snake, it streamed swiftly across the tarmac and into the cargo hold, where the birds dispersed and disappeared into the dark recesses. More swooped down from the terminal building and darted inside—a hundred.

Two hundred. Three hundred or more, vanishing in the gloom.

The baggage handler stood next to the baggage conveyor belt, his expression unchanging, his eyes staring at nothing. The tug arrived, pulling a train of carts full of luggage of every shape and size.

“Tim?” said the tug driver. “You okay, mate?” He waited, but got no response. “Up late, were you?”

Tim remained mute.

“You want inside or out?” the driver asked. One man would feed bags onto the conveyor belt from the bottom; the other would pull them into the hold and pack them tightly in netted bays inside.

Without a word, Tim climbed the conveyor belt and disappeared inside the plane.

The driver shrugged and started the conveyor belt. In ten minutes the baggage was loaded. As Tim, on his knees near the entrance to the hold, stowed the last bag, a dark shape swooped past, brushing against him. With a groan he fell over sideways. From the bottom of the conveyor belt, the driver shouted, “Tim! You all right, mate?”

Tim sat up, blinking, dazed. He looked down at the driver.

“How’d I get up here?” he said.

“What? You climbed up there! We just loaded the bags.”

Tim looked around and saw the loaded bags. He shook his head, confused. Gingerly, he climbed down the conveyor belt.

“Are you okay, Timmy?” said the driver.

“I dunno,” said Tim, frowning. “I thought…did you see any birds around?”

“Birds? A few, maybe. Why?”

Tim thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Never mind,” he said. “It was…only birds.”

The driver climbed back onto the tug. As he started the engine, he called, “Get some rest, Timmy boy. You’re looking like a zombie today.”

Sarah, having just taken her seat next to Aidan, looked out the window.

Toward the back of the plane she saw two airport workers talking. One of them drove away. The other stood for a moment, rubbing his head, then turned and looked at the plane. Sarah got a good look at his face; he looked troubled. After a few moments he shook his head, turned, and walked away.

The pilot announced that all the bags had been loaded and the preflight checks were complete. “We’ll be on our way shortly,” he said.

Sarah turned to Aidan, and he spoke for them both: “I am so glad to be getting out of here.”