I choke. My next inhale proves fatal, and I actually choke, accidentally inhaling the food I’d been chewing. I drop the corn dog onto the paper and splutter, coughing hard enough that Caid laughs and smacks his hand against my back several times before I’m no longer at risk of dying right in front of him. That wouldn’t be sexy at all. Not that my choking was, but I can recover from choking. I can’t recover from death.
When I’m able to speak again, my voice comes out a little raspy as I blurt, “Are you trying to kill me?”
Both men look entirely too amused after witnessing my almost-demise, and I shake my head with a heavy dose of disapproval. If these are the games they want to play, then they’re going to learn real quick that I play just as well as the rest of them.
So, crossing my arms and boosting my tits high enough that they look plump and cushiony, I toss out my next words so carelessly that it takes a second for either man to catch them. “If I’m going to choke and die on something that looks like a cock, it better be the real thing.”
There’s a moment of pause before my words land, and I’m suddenly surrounded by the glorious sound of male laughter. I’m pretty sure it’s the hardest I’ve heard Ryan laugh, and I chased that man around with a fake phallus in my pants. It’s music to my ears, and I’m grinning as I go about eating the rest of my corn dog, eyeing every other plate that lines the table. Hell, I don’t even know what to try next, there’s so much of it.
Despite my protests, both men split off on their own adventure while I sat cushioned on a picnic bench at the park where a very popular food festival is taking place. A two-week affair, the festival is in full swing, with plenty of patrons carrying various foods that look so good that my mouth has watered more than once. After the last wipe of my lips I thought I was doing discreetly, the pair scattered and came back with what looks to be one of literally everything. It’s kind of scary, and pretty damn overwhelming, especially since I’ve spied several seagulls eyeing my goods like they’re about to swoop in and steal it all at any second.
Which makes me wonder for the billionth time since we arrived, why would they put a park near the beach, on the sky rats’ home turf? It only gives them an advantage we don’t. I don’tknow what that advantage is, but I know they have it. Especially that beady-eyed little fuck eyeing my nachos like it’s about to snatch them right from under my nose.
“Look at those aggressive origami. Zero thoughts, only theft. I can see it in those creepy little eyes,” I mutter, reaching for a nacho without taking my eyes off a particularly shady-looking bird that looks like he’d be a divorced dad named Gerry in an alternate life.
Lightly chuckling, his laughter over my cheeky comment tamed enough that there are no longer tears in his eyes, Caid assures, “They won’t attack. They’re just waiting for the next person to drop an ice cream.”
“They look like they’re jonesing for more than an ice cream. He’s got his eyes on my nachos, and I am not afraid to punch an airborne raccoon in the beak to protect my food,” I warn, narrowing my eyes on the seagull that moves on as though he’s heard me and considers me an actual threat.
“We’ll protect you and your food from the seagulls, trouble. Just enjoy your food,” Ryan promises, sounding much too amused for someone who hasn’t been watching the gathering flock of birds that look as though they were designed by someone who actually hates humanity. I wonder what would happen if someone were to, oh, I don’t know, prove themselves right…
I take another chip, eyeing it for a moment before dipping it into the pots of hot nacho cheese, salsa, and ranch, an idea forming in my mind. Curiosity will truly be my downfall, because the next thought I have comes with a sudden urge to discover the outcome, and I don’t give those thoughts much more energy than necessary before I throw the chip just behind Ryan and hold my breath.
Sure enough, those sky goblins prove just how unhinged they are, because the next moment, Ryan is surrounded. Thegang of birds swarms the chip, pecking at the ground, flapping their wings, and scaring the absolute shit out of Ryan enough that he scrambles off the bench in such a hurry that he knocks over several plates of food.
And it’s the greatest mistake anyone has ever made in the existence of the universe.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Maddie
I’m in a zombie movie where the flesh-eating monsters are seagulls and the flesh is actually the chicken spread across the floor right next to our bench.
There’s a beat of silence before chaos descends, and more seagulls nosedive toward the chicken than there were before. I’m convinced their numbers have doubled, more birds descending on the fallen food like they’re starved and only cannibalism will sate their hunger. I actually worry that it’s I who has made the most fatal error by overestimating what kind of lure spoiled food would be to the beaked trash that look like they form gangs and bully people for shits and giggles.
There are so many of them, and so suddenly, that people are now giving our bench a wide berth. Some are hiding their ice creams as though the violent pigeons would ever be tempted when there’s now a feast for the taking right there on the floor. Some are taking photos, and I understand instantly what kind of person they would be in a horror movie.
Caid and I can do nothing but stare in terror as the birds draw closer, gobbling the chicken and single nacho chip like vicious carnivores, while Ryan stands…
Wait, where the hell did Ryan go?
Peering around, I find the traitor standing at a safe distance near a food truck that sells tacos, one of which is planted on the table that doesn’t feel so safe to sit at anymore. Not with the Bird Mafia drawing nearer, the food on the floor disappearing faster than I’ve seen anything vanish before in all of my life.
“I think I fucked up,” I mutter to Caid, who chuckles nervously, keeping his eyes on the birds but otherwise remaining as calm and cool as a cucumber in a fridge.
Nodding, he says, “I’d call it a pretty big blunder. But maybe if we stay here, they’ll be too scared to get any closer.”
I’ve never heard anything so stupid before, and this is coming from a woman who listened to her best friends when they told her to have a wank and ended up using lube that damn near simultaneously froze and burned her labia clean off her body.
“Are you new to the ways of seagulls, Muscles? Because I assure you, nothing is going to scare them. Their numbers have grown too much. They can sense our fear, you know,” I whisper back, not really sure why, but feeling the situation calls for it. It’s as though I’m afraid to raise my voice any louder in case it startles the sky rats into action. In fact, I’m so worried that I might lure them over with just my breath alone that I place my hand over my mouth, watching them closely as they hop around in search of more fallen victims.
Behind my hand, I accuse, “We’ve been left to rot, too, if you didn’t notice. So if we die from a freak bird attack, we have to haunt Ryan, okay? Also, next time, stop me before I do something so ridiculous.”
Caid chokes on his laughter, leaning his elbows against the bench as though he isn’t afraid of the loitering seagulls. “How was I to know you were going to try to prove me wrong?”
I shake my head. “You should have seen it coming. I’ve been told I get an almost crazy look in my eyes when I think of something I shouldn’t be thinking. You should have seen the crazy, Caid. Now look at us.”
“Blue,” he laughs, dragging some of the plates away from the edge of the table when a particularly brave bastard waddlesup to the bench, curiously looking for scraps. “Everything is fine. We can move tables, don’t stress about it.”
