“I like hamburger,” Sunny said, picking up her gun.
Harry didn’t say anything, but together they all trooped out to complete their very unusual mission, leaving Carl to call Stirling and Michael to fix dinner.
A HALF hour later, Carl came out of the living room looking relieved and surveyed the meal under construction. Ground beef and onions were browning in a skillet, and a big glass casserole dish sat filled with pie crust that Michael had made out of flour and shortening.
“Anything I can do?” Carl asked, washing his hands at the sink, which told Michael he was serious.
“Yeah. There’s bags of frozen peas and carrots in the chest freezer.” Michael gestured with his chin to the thing in the corner. “Could you grab one of those and spread it in the casserole dish after I put the meat in?”
“Roger that.” Carl did as he was told, and his chuckle at the chest freezer told Michael he’d encountered the white-butcher-paper packets marked Murder Bird in black grease pen.
“Yeah,” Michael said, spreading the ground beef and onion mixture over the crust while Carl wrestled with the chest freezer. “I figured nobody would want to eat something called Murder Bird, so I left those alone.”
“Predators in general taste terrible,” Carl told him. “All the nasty stuff the herbivores and omnivores eat goes right up the food chain. I saw one study where scientists theorized that if we could go back in time and eat a T. rex, it would make us sick.”
“Well, the damned murder bird’s the size of a velociraptor,” Michael muttered. “I would imagine those aren’t much better. Ready with the peas and carrots?”
“Yup.” Carl stepped in and spread the vegetables over the meat Michael had added to the casserole while Michael toweled out the skillet. When Michael was done, he stepped forward and pulled up the envelope of pie crust he’d flopped over the side of the dish and started to scrunch its edges together to turn the concoction into a hearty meat pie. Carl saw what he was doing and started to help him from the other side.
“Did you talk to Stirling?” he asked while they worked.
“He threatened to send the cavalry. Twice.” Carl grunted. “I don’t think Stirling trusts the world much.”
Michael snorted. “I think that’s a sage observation,” he said, and was startled by Carl’s big, wide-palmed hand on his own.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Michael let out a sigh and reminded himself for the umpteenth time that Carl had been super supportive of his ex-wife and kids, who were coming to visit in the summer—and that Michael was going to visit during Christmas—and the fact that Michael had pretty much willed Carl into a long-term relationship with his awesome mind powers alone.
“I didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation,” Michael said, trying to keep his jealousy out of it, but Carl saw right through him.
“There’s nothing between us. You know that, right?”
Michael shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “You seem to have history with a lot of people,” he acknowledged. “And I am feeling… small.”
Carl’s snort made him look up. “Not all that many,” he said, looking aggrieved. “They just all seem to be coming together in this case. And it’s not fair. I’m still trying to impress you, you know.”
That brought a small smile to Michael’s lips. “That was some pretty fancy driving.”
Carl laughed softly, and when Michael met his eyes, they were fastened on Michael’s face. “I want so much for us,” he confessed, his voice low. “I wouldn’t screw it up now. Just remember—Mandy’s an old friend, and she’s been through a lot.”
Michael nodded. That much he knew. “Yeah. That’s why I didn’t say anything,” he confessed. “It seemed petty and small, considering what she was dealing with. It was just weighing on my heart some.” He gave a shrug. “I’ll get the hang of it, this idea of being with someone I haven’t known since we were in diapers. Now to the most important thing. How in the hell are we going to get out of here without calling on Stirling and the cavalry?”
Carl shook his head. “Here’s hoping Mandy has some ideas,” he said. “I don’t think I can make that road again. That was some hairy shit.”
“Right?” Michael hefted the casserole dish with the now completed meat pie in it. “Unlike this, I hope, which should not be hairy at all.”
He tucked it in the stove and started cleaning the kitchen, pleased when Carl helped him without being asked. As they were finishing up, Carl asked, “How long do we have for that to cook?”
“At least an hour,” Michael told him. “Why?”
“Want to go see the live murder birds up close?”
Michael felt a slow smile start. “I thought you’d never ask.”
WHEN THEY got out to the cage, Mandy was in the middle of throwing pieces of goat into the three giant mews, and Michael gave a shudder. He’d grown up on a two-acre plot of land—he could slaughter livestock by the time he was ten, not that he liked the job any. He wondered if Carl realized how fresh those furry legs might be.
Carl was under no illusions.
“How big’s your herd?” Carl asked as they approached. He gestured with his chin to the furry things on the side of the nearest hill, and Michael realized they’d moved a little closer while the time had passed. He could see them move, see the lack of fleece, and realized they were indeed goats.
Mandy gave him a grim look. “About two-hundred head, after the spring birthing season,” she said. “We try to kill off the old ones first, but these fuckers go through a full-grown billy in about three days.” The mews all had bi-level doors, and she swung open the top half of the door to the closed mew and threw in a chunk of goat.
Michael watched as one of the birds snapped a leg bone in its powerful jaws and gulped down the meat, bone, skin, wiry hair, and the hoof at the end.
“That’s fucking insane,” he said, not even sure the words had come out of his mouth.
“These are the ones we could keep contained,” she said. “The first one Sunny and Harry’s mom caught in a snare ate the four-by-four posts that made up the mew. He was going after the kids when I took him out with a shotgun.” She shuddered. “I mean, kids get hurt in rooster attacks all the time—it doesn’t make the news. But these things? They can kill you. Many large predatory birds have that capability, but they also don’t see the need. These assholes don’t need a practical reason. They’ll do it for free.”
“So,” Carl said, frowning as if he’d been thinking about this for a while. “Serpentus just tried to forget about these creatures. I mean, speaking of not practical.”
Mandy looked at him sharply before moving her bucket of dripping red meat to the next cage. “You’re right,” she said, as though it had just occurred to her. “But I don’t have any other explanation. I found the facility, a contact told me they’d been commissioned to breed these fucking murder birds, and then the commission ended. That’s all I know.”