“You! I’ll get you for this.” Charlie’s voice took on a dangerous edge, rolling thunder proclaiming distant lightning.
The four birds watched, secure in their shit covered castle.
“Now don’t you do something that you’ll regret.” Martha said.
“Martha, I worked my ass off to get that plane and they ruined it. That was Dad’s legacy. Now hand me my gun.”
“I won’t be a part of this. I won’t.”
“Fine go back inside! I’ll deal with these varmints myself. If there’s anything left, we can fry em up for dinner.”
Martha sighed and headed back to the house.
Charlie grabbed his shotgun from the darkened corner and aimed carefully. Sweet, sweet revenge was going to be his. He grinned as he pulled the trigger. The gun exploded, jerking back in his hands. The birds untouched, took to the air, while the dry hay in the loft behind them burst into flames. The reflection on the metal gave the impression that the plane itself was on fire.
Instead of running out, Charlie pulled the barn door shut. There would be no escape.