Short Stories: Ambuscade by Tony McMillen

The nights here last as long as they have to. This one stretches on and on. The wind is still chilly and Tiny has to tend to it. More and more he feeds the fire little pieces of himself. I would wander back with him to the house but I know I have to wait here. I can’t waste this window. There will only be one chance. I have dreamt about this, about finally having an enemy. A purpose in this place. It’s all I’ve ever thought of. Now that it’s close, that he’s close, I worry. What if he slays me? Wouldn’t that be better than waiting here for him to arrive? But this is all I’ve ever known. Waiting here alone with no one else. Tiny has taken the other half of his wooden robotic breastbone and reattached some coils to it turning it into some sort of stringed instrument. He plucks the strings and its sounds vibrate through the empty night. Its sound is pretty and warbled. Tiny starts singing on top of it the way birds do. I close my eyes and let the music have me. The night doesn’t seem so long anymore. I try to remember to stay focused, to be prepared for battle. That my enemy could arrive at any moment. But it’s too hard to care about any of that with Tiny and his song. I realize for the first time in a long time that I am happy. Then a thought spiders across my brain. What if this is what my enemy wants? What if he was the one who sent Tiny here in the first place? What if he was the one who sent me here so long ago…What if he is Tiny? No, Tiny is my friend. He’s already given so much to me. He would never betray me. The fire between us I watch the birdman. Can I trust him? Why is he so giving? He knows something. He knows more than I do. Friend or not. What isn’t he telling me?

I fall asleep. No dreams. I wake up to a sound. There is a wave of red light and a roar of sound. My enemy. Finally. I take my weapon up and strike. It’s hard to see and I don’t hit anything. Where’s Tiny? My eyes adjust and I realize what that sound and light are. Another one of Tiny’s stupid fireworks. I hear him caw and finally see him behind the wall of red his little toy has created. Why is he setting these off now? While I’m asleep. I scream at him. Is he trying to get someone’s attention? Is he trying to signal my enemy so he can slit my throat in my sleep? I walk around the fire and stand over Tiny. He looks up from his massive robotic wooden suit. I tell him I want to know what he’s hiding from me. I tell him I want to know who sent him. He just caws back. This has gone on long enough. I have waited and waited. Where is my enemy? Where? I ask him to tell me what he knows about my enemy. He caws back. So I take up my weapon and hold it over my head. Tiny starts cawing now rapidly. I see his pink exposed apple of a heart glowing in the black. He tries to raise up his remaining arm to stop me. I bring down the claw fast and hard. It cracks his arm and sends it to the side leaving him unguarded. I bring the claw back down on the birdman again and again. If he was sent by my enemy then I will use him to send a message to him. I will not be fooled. There is not much left of his body, most of it has already gone to the fire. It smashes apart like an old wicker chair against a wall. He falls over onto his back and his arm has been taken off. He has nothing to defend him now. The apple is unprotected. I take it into my hand, it feels warm and firm. Tiny sounds like he’s screaming. I grab hold tight and tear it off the branch. I put it up to my mouth and sink my teeth in. My entire mouth is still red with pain but I manage an awkward bite. The warm juice pours down the outside of my bloody lips and I relish the taste of it. I manage another bite, its sweet contents taking over my head. I look over at the fire then, still climbing. I look at the pile of wood and the fireworks scattered here and there within. Despite how good the apple tastes my mutilated mouth starts throbbing from the use I’m giving it. I look down and see Tiny’s little black head staring up from his smashed collar. The apple in my hand feels impossibly heavy. My friend’s small orange ringed eyes follow up to mine. I drop my weapon. I put down the apple. What have I done? I get to my knees and go to Tiny. I think he’s trapped under the damage. I remove the bowtie from his neck and collarbone piece when the little blackbird pecks my hand. I take my hand back and start to apologize. But it’s too late. Tiny is free and he takes to the air with his little black wings and flies off. He caws one last time before his dark body is swallowed up by the night.

I’m making a nest out of the remains of his body. No, I’m going to make Tiny a castle. A beautiful wooden palace fit for a bird king. It might take me forever to make it right. But time is all I have. The fire is beginning to die now and I think I’m going to let it. This night can’t last much longer I tell myself. But it is getting colder again. I have so much wood now to feed the flame but I need it for something more. To make my friend his home. Sometimes I take a break from building and try to play the ribcage with the string like Tiny used to. But I can’t seem to find the song. I think about lighting some of his fireworks in hopes that’d it’d bring him back. Maybe I will when I’ve finished. The water starts getting close again and I’m tempted to go back to the house. But I know I can’t. I have to wait. Wait for my friend. I think about digging up what we buried too. Just to see. But I know what I’d find if I did that. I’d move back all the sand and the teeth would be gone of course. The ritual is complete. But I still have to wait. The apple hasn’t gone bad yet. There’s still more than half left. Maybe I can find some more wood. Maybe instead of a castle I can make back his body. Just the way it was before. Maybe if he sees that my friend will come back to me. If I can just figure out how to put it back together.