FLASH FICTION CONTEST #2

Far away from Earth, lightyears from our galaxy, the planet Soren thrives.

It is a bright place, one with unique life forms and surprising landmarks. Quiet and calm, Soren has much life. One of the creatures are bat-birds, which are four-legged birds with the wings of bats. For the bat-birds, things are peaceful. That is, for now..


The day the virus hit, Pebble was helping her mother collect water. The day was cool and cloudy. The well in the yard squeaked as Pebble pulled up the pail from the depths. She set it down on the dry grass and looked back at mother, who was bringing out more pails.

“Do you remember Maple? The neighbor?” Mother was asking. Pebble nodded.

“She died not long ago.” Mother said.

“How?”

“I think it is from that weird new virus thing,” she grabbed a pail.

Pebble wasn’t fazed. Everyone gets sick from time to time, right? She took her waterlogged bucket home. As the sun began to set, she went outside to get more water when she heard a violent coughing sound. Startled out of what she was doing, Pebble turned. Her bluish gray feathers ruffled as she followed the noise to the front yard.

Her brother was there. He was the one coughing. His eyes were glazed and Pebble leapt back. She dropped the bucket clamped in her beak and it clanged against one of her forelegs. Quickly, she spun back around and sprinted inside. “Mother?” She called shakily. Her mother’s head poked out of her room. “Lark is really sick,” she said, “Can you go check?”

Mother turned and followed her daughter out the door. When she saw Lark, she told Pebble to stay home while she took him to the clinic. Pebble had a really bad feeling about what was happening..

A week or so had passed. More and more were getting sick, and more and more were dying. The news spread through the flock and Lark had been at the clinic for many days now.

Pebble was at home, quietly picking at her claws when mother stepped in. “Another one in this flock is dead,” she said. Pebble lifted her head sympathetically. How many more would die until the virus was over? It had only been a week, but it was already destructive enough.

Pebble awoke, feeling fuzzy and strange. Her claws searched for the glass of water near the bed, and when she drank, her throat burned. It was pitch-black outside and the moon glimmered softly outside.

“It can wait until tomorrow,” she said to herself, voice hoarse, and settled down once more. Pebble shifted, tossing and turning until she finally fell asleep. But not for long..

She awoke, gasping for breath. Breathing was suddenly difficult and she struggled to sit up. What was happening? She tried to prop herself up and she tried to slow her breathing before the coughing spells started. Was it the virus? She was sure it was.

She was in the clinic, swallowing bitter medicine and hoping to get better. The weird illness seemed to have slowed and the nurses told her it was because she got medication early on. Extremely grateful, Pebble only stayed there for a few days. When she returned, she had to stay away from mother in fear of not spreading any leftovers of the virus. Now stuck in her room, she stared out the window. What were once teeming, busy streets were now deserted and empty.

A few days later, finally allowed outside of her locked-down room, Pebble was reading and quietly glancing out of the window. It had been a few days since Lark had died and with each day, the sad reality of the “Bat-bird virus” was getting heavier. Was there any light to the stricken flock?

It had been a month. Then two. Things were starting to look up.

A strange new medicine had been made and it was said to help with the “bat-bird” virus and was being spread for testing. Mother fell ill but tried the medicine. The result was shocking.

In days, Pebble’s mother began to heal. Her eyes brightened and the coughing fits were wiped out in the first few hours. After less than a week, Mother was back to working around the house, cleaning, scolding her daughter and more. The large flock was slowly but surely returning to health.

Then, one day, Pebble stepped outside. A good half-year had passed. One of healing, hoping and hospitals. As the grayish blue bat-bird glanced around she saw a few young fledglings playing outside and at that moment she knew the state of things had changed.

A few weeks passed, and the flock was pretty much back to normal. The flock was recovering well and now Pebble had her story to share.

Pebble took out her notebook and opened it. She took her bottle of ink and set it down at the edge of the notebook. It was a beautiful day with warm sun and a cool wind. She began to think about what to write, and then froze. She had an idea.

Pebble dipped a claw into the ink and wrote, at the top of her paper,

THE VIRUS OF SOREN...