The creature always slept high in the trees concealed in the darkness of heavy foliage, with his pointy head under his wing. One foot was wrapped around the branches, and the other was tucked up into his glossy, black plumage.
There was the sound of a large animal moving in the forest below him. He awoke from his sleep immediately alert. He had a nearby clutch of eggs to think about. During mating season he became hormonal and was more aggressive with predators. Hopping lightly from branch to branch he moved down for a closer look.
Altair continued through the rainforest with no idea where he was going. He had been separated from his tour group and had been wandering around the Amazon Rainforest for three days now. He had only wanted to take a selfie for his social media feed but then got turned around. His smartphone had long since run out of power.
He had a horrible sense of direction and was hopeless without a tour guide on hikes. Nonetheless he was determined to be a travel blogger. He had recently invested thousands in top of the line photography equipment. And it was his first visit to South America.
He was soaked to the bone from the frequent rain showers. What skin was visible was bright red from sun burns, and covered in insect bites.
He had survived by eating the protein bars, dried fruit and jerky that he had brought with him on the hike, and drinking water cupped out of leaves. The past two nights he had spent covered in palm fronds under the shelter of large rocks.
Without warning the creature burst out of the shadows of the forest canopy and launched itself onto the man’s backpack.
“Ah!” he screamed in pain and surprise. He felt the animal’s teeth and claws sinking in his shoulders but he could not see what it was. It was light and birdlike; about the size of a vulture or eagle.
The animal reared up and sank its teeth into the base of the man’s neck.
“Ah!” he screamed again. He twisted around maneuvering so as to pull it off his back, but he could not reach and ended up turning around in circles.
“Get off me!” he yelled at it.
The animal did not comply. It tore a small piece of skin and flesh out of his neck, turned his head backwards and swallowed it whole.
The man reached up and over his shoulders to grab at it.
It let out a raucous cry of disapproval and snapped at his wrists with its beak. It sounded like the cry of a bird of prey mixed with a chicken squawking. Two of its claws disengaged from the man’s back as it flapped its wings. Then he reattached them to Altair’s sides.
He slipped the bag off his back thinking the thing would let go. But it had excellent balance and this only made more room for it to sink its claws into.
“Ah!” Altair began running around in circles In an attempt to dislodge it. In the confusion he slammed into a low hanging tree branch and fell backwards with the wind knocked out of him.
The animal flapped its wings behind him and landed deftly onto the branch in time to save itself from being stuck between Altair and the ground.
Altair gasped for air. The world was spinning and he was seeing double. Then he realized he could see the creature above him.
It looked like a large black bird, but with a longer tail, and wings on his hind legs. There was an iridescent sheen to his feathers that reflected the light from the afternoon sun. He had a beak with teeth in it similar to that of a reptile. Its eyes were bright and intelligent.
He did not know what it was. But he knew he needed to get up and run away.
The beast screamed. It was a warning call about a primate predator. It was very loud and the noise reverberated throughout the forest.
There was a rustling sound in the canopy above them where more of the beasts returned the same call. They usually roosted together in the same area, and had been taking a midday nap. But they were all awake now.
Three of the animals glided out of the trees and landed on branches close to the place Altair had fallen. They let out birdlike screams as they did so.
“Shite!” Altair realized what was happening and scrambled back up to his feet. He tore off into the forest moving blindly as he passed tree after tree.
The monsters, four of them now, moved to follow the man. Rather than chasing on foot — they were awkward and slow on the ground — they glided from branch to branch in pursuit. It was a very efficient way to travel and they soon overcame him.
One of the creatures dove down, flapped its wings and snapped its beak at Altair and screamed aggressively.
“Ow!” Altair yelled as it scratched him in passing. He batted it away with his hands. The animal glided away and landed in a tree.
That is when the second one dove down at him.
The four animals continued chasing him through the forest in this fashion. The man was larger than their usual diet of lizards, birds, frogs and fish. But on this occasion they were concerned about the safety of their nests.
“Leave me alone!” Altair yelled at them. He was becoming exhausted from running, and needed to catch his breath. He was covered in a mixture of dirt and blood.
From up above he could hear the creatures screeching.
He smashed through a grove of trees and landed on a slope where he lost his footing and rolled to the base of the hill.
Flabbergasted he lay there panting for a moment. His ears were ringing and the sun was in his eyes.
He became aware of the sound of movement in the forest canopy above him. There was a giant tree with a trunk wider than he was tall. It must have been ancient. Gazing up at the massive tree he realized that it was alive with movement. The branches were full of the sleek, black feathered creatures. He was back where he had first encountered the strange animals. They were jumping around from branch to branch calling out and cheering on their brethren as they chased Altair through the forest. They had worked themselves up and were very excited.
The four animals landed on branches in the same area giving out eagle-like screams as they did so.
“Help me!” screamed Altair. “Help! I need help!” he called out to anyone within earshot. “Ayuda me!” he yelled.
The animals screamed back at him.
One of the bird-animals took a nose dive in his direction. With a grunt of effort Altair rolled to the side and crawled to a fallen log. Using his hands and knees he crept inside the hollow interior of the dead tree to hide.
There was a loud crunching sound as one landed on the log and dug into the deadwood with its claws.
The beast cried out again. The log shifted and vibrated as it made its way to the opening at the base. Small pieces of wood rained down on Altair inside.
It aligned itself with the entrance to Altair’s hiding spot, peered inside the hole with one eye and met Altair’s frightened gaze.
Altair crawled further into the log but was running out of space.
The beast manipulated its dexterous claws and climbed inside of the log as easily as though it had hatched in a hollowed out tree. It snapped its beak at his feet.
“No! Stay away from me! Shoo!” Altair kicked his feet at the animal who in turn nipped at his pant leg grazing one calf.
“Ah!” cried Altair.
Suddenly there was a burst of activity. The animal retreated from the interior of the log and alighted into the branches of a nearby tree. Altair became aware of the sound of men yelling in the general area. He worked his way down and emerged from the hollowed out tree covered in cobwebs and dust.
Three small brown men wearing loin cloths and holding spears were gesturing wildly at the animals in the trees. They had been out hunting for meat when they heard Altair’s screams for help.
“Shoo!” one of them said in their native language, “Go away. He does not want your eggs!”
The beasts retreated to the tree tops dismayed that their new toy had been taken away from them. Unconvinced the men were not a threat to their young, they watched suspiciously from their perches as the four men disappeared into the forest.
The indigenous tribesmen led Altair back to their village in the heart of the rainforest. The huts were simple affairs woven together from palm fronds. There was evidence of forest agriculture in the form of small vegetable gardens with vines and tendrils curling around the trunks of trees.
A group of children rushed to meet them followed by the adults. The villagers laughed at Altair because he was much taller and wider than they were, and his skin was bright red. After the initial commotion they sat down by the campfire and gave Altair some food and water, and a salve for his mosquito bites.
He was able to communicate with them using a combination of basic Spanish and hand gestures. Gradually he worked out that the animals were “forest gods” and that they laid eggs. They must not be disturbed during this time of year because they would attack men by diving down from the trees.
One of the elders disappeared inside a tent and brought out a ceremonial head dress made from glossy black feathers and beads. He handed it to Altair for him to examine more closely. It was very fine. The craftsmanship was exquisite.
Altair indicated that he would like to buy the head dress, but the elder refused. Evidently it was used in some sort of sacred ritual or other.
Altair asked if he could have one of the feathers. He wanted to take it back to the wise men in the city he told them.
The villagers motioned towards his backpack. Gradually he understood that they wished to make a trade. They settled on a multi tool, a waterproof pack of matches, and the rest of his dried food.
Altair spent the rest of the night in one of huts sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. He had been too stressed out to sleep well out in the forest, had tossed and turned and woken up intermittently by strange dreams and bursts of adrenaline.
The villagers took Altair to the closest town in the morning, travelling through the rainforest by canoe on a wide river. After several hours of rowing they reached a dock where the natives and Altair disembarked. They said their good-byes.
It was a small Columbian town with a handful of houses, and a bar with an adjoining shop. A group of locals were sitting at the tables outside nursing beers in bottles and listening to music on a portable radio. They watched him as he entered the town carrying his backpack. He had not showered in several days. His shoulder length hair was greasy and his fingernails were blackened with dirt.
At the pay phone he was able to contact his family who had been worried sick about him. His mother informed him that the Columbian police had been searching for him for three days, and that they were about to call it off.
Ending the phone call, Altair turned around to find five men in military uniforms holding AK-47’s.
“Altair Johnson?” one of them questioned him.
“Yes?” he replied nervously eying the automatic weapons.
“I’m with the Columbian police department. You need to come with us. We have been looking for you,” he said in accented English.
The police officers made sounds of disgust as Altair climbed into the back of the Hummer.
“Yes, well I haven’t had a chance to shower yet,” he told them.
At the police station they made Altair take a shower, shave and brush his teeth in the locker room. Then he met them back in the office.
The police stared at him disbelievingly as he gave his account of what happened. They did not like tourists but they tolerated them for the additional income. They asked him a lot of questions about what he was doing so deep in the rainforest, and seemed suspicious about the possibility of drug smuggling.
The police officers spoke rapidly back to one another in Spanish. Altair could not understand them. But he got the impression that they thought he was out of his mind or on drugs.
“Mr. Johnson, we want to have you examined by a doctor,” the translator told him.
At the doctor’s office he was met by a matronly woman in scrubs. She greeted him in accented English and then took him to the back to check his vital signs. Then she took him to an examination room in the back and asked him to change into a paper gown.
The doctor was an affable young man with dark hair and glasses. He was tall, thin and spoke good English.
He looked at the police report on the computer screen. “You said you were attacked by animals in the forest?”
“Yes, big black monsters with feathers! They chased me through the forest,” Altair told him.
“May I examine your back?” asked the doctor.
Altair assented.
The doctor approached the medical table where Altair was seated to get a closer look at his wounds.
“Que raro,” the doctor spoke to himself under his breath. Altair’s back had dozens of triangle shaped lesions on his back, arms and legs, where the animals had bitten him. There were scratch marks from their claws as well. He poked gently at one of the injured areas, and Altair shifted uncomfortably in pain.
“Sorry,” said the doctor.
“Altair,” he said. “It looks like you were attacked by a large bird. Perhaps a hawk or a parrot. Do you see this one here on your calf?” he indicated below.
“Yes,” said Altair.
“It is shaped like a triangle. When the bird bites you, it is not like a human. When you or I bite we go straight up and down, then tear and chew. Do you see?” He imitated the motion with his hands
“But when a bird bites he locks his beak together and pulls out, yes? Leaving a triangular shaped wound like the one we see here.”
“It is rare but not unheard of for birds of prey to attack humans — usually to protect their eggs. This behavior is referred to as mobbing,” he explained.
“But it had teeth. And there was more than one!” argued Altair.
The doctor laughed, “It is the Amazon. So it is possible you discovered a new species.”
He stopped, “Did you happen to eat any unusual mushrooms or colorful frogs out there?”
“No,” responded Altair.
“Have you ingested any coca leaves or cocaine in the past 72 hours?” continued the doctor.
“What? No! I’m not a junkie!” said Altair.
“I’m sure you were probably exhausted from being lost in the forest and you were not sleeping well,” the doctor implied he was seeing things.
“My advice is to rest, and eat a hot meal. And keep the wounds clean. You should be fine in a few days,” the doctor dismissed him.
At the police station the police were still standoffish. But they had searched Altair’s backpack multiple times and found no evidence of drug smuggling nor any exotic animals so he was free to leave. They gave him directions to a bus station where he could buy a ticket and travel to Bogota.
Altair stared moodily out at the tropical landscape as the bus sped down the single lane highway with the sound of the motor running in the background. The feather was tucked safely into his belongings, which were stored in the compartment under the bus.
In Bogota he had a chance to have dinner with his mates and recount the tale of his adventures.
“Look at it this way, Alt, you had the adventure of a lifetime. And you’re in the news! You finally went viral. You have to stay positive,” his friend Bianca told him over drinks.
“I’m in the news for getting lost in the forest. I look like an idiot!” Altair moaned.
“It could have been a Black and Chestnut Eagle, mate. Birds of prey have been known to attack larger animals to defend their eggs,” said Bianca’s husband Pollux.
“I know what I saw,” argued Altair. “I’m telling you it had four sets of wings and teeth.”
“Right, and I’m sure you didn’t eat any unusual mushrooms whilst you were traipsing about in the forest,” remarked Bianca.
Bianca and Pollux both chuckled.
“That was a good one!” Pollux told her.
“Cheers!” replied Bianca.
They clinked their glasses together.
Altair was fuming. He was going to prove that he not making up a story or high on psychotropic drugs. As soon as he got home from the airport he set about to email the authorities at the university. Using his family connections — they had made a sizeable donation to the university every year for centuries — it was easy for him to get on the phone with a professor in the ornithology department.
“So is it possible to have the DNA analyzed?” Altair asked the professor.
“Altair, the animal you are describing has not lived on Earth for millions of years,” began Professor Wright.
“But it is possible that it still exists somewhere in the Amazon,” said Altair. “That has happened. There was that fish in Madagascar.”
“The coelacanth,” the professor supplied him with the word.
“Theoretically it is possible, but extremely unlikely,” Professor Wright continued.
“If it is a living fossil, I’m afraid we would not have any DNA from that time period, because DNA does not last for more than a million years.”
“I see,” said Altair.
“But it is possible to identify birds by feather. Each species has a unique signature.”
“I suppose if you bring me your feather, I could search the database online,” suggested Professor Wright.
“Let’s give it a go,” Altair confirmed.
Professor Wright examined the specimen one more time for accuracy’s sake. He inputted the identifying characteristics into the system, and then waited as the computer searched the database.
When the results loaded on the monitor he frowned and squinted his eyes to read it again.
“Unknown… protofeather…” he read to himself out loud.
If these science fiction short stories inspire you be sure to share them!
Elizabeth de Moya lives near San Diego, CA. She volunteers for the birds, and she works at the zoo. She is going back to school to study pre veterinary medicine. She has a BA in Linguistics from UC Berkeley.