“Time of death 8:46 AM.”

“Everyone in this room is under quarantine,” the doctor says. “If this is what I think it is, we’re all dead.”

***

8:44 AM

“Clear!” the machine sends electricity pulsing through my body.

“No pulse.”

“Shock him again!”

“Nothing. Flatline.”

The doctor pulls down his mask slowly.

“Then we’ll never know for sure.”

“Won’t an autopsy show it?”

“Let’s find out. I’m calling it…”

***

8:40 AM

Blood sprays from my mouth as I cough uncontrollably.

“Vitals dropping,” the nurse yells, “We’re losing him.”

“Charge the defibrillator. Did you draw the blood sample I wanted?”

“Not enough time.”

“I need that sample!”

“Defibrillator charged.”

***

8:36 AM

“So, I hear you have the flu,” the doctor says.

I start to cough.

“Sorry about that,” I tell the doctor.

“That’s okay, when did you notice…?”

Coughs wrack me to the floor.

“Nurse!”

“Yes, doctor?”

“Get me vitals and a blood sample on this guy.”

“He’s seizing!”

“Crash cart to room five, stat!”

***

8:34 AM

Finally. I think I have writer’s cramp.

“The doctor will see you now, follow me to room five.”

I still feel a little silly. It was just some freak occurrence.

“Good morning,” the doctor says, “How are we feeling today?”

“Fine, I guess.”

***

8:01 AM

“Fill out these forms and have a seat,” the receptionist says without looking up.

***

7:50 AM

I drive down the road still in shock.

Did that really just happen?

Dents in the hood of my car and feathers clinging to my clothes confirm it.

I look at the bloody scrapes on my arm.

Maybe I should go to the hospital.

***

7:45 AM

I breathe in the crisp morning air. There’s an odd tinge to the smell.

Halfway to the car, I hear a ‘thunk’.

A small bird lays motionless on the ground in front of me.

Another ‘thunk’ and another.

What the hell?

I look up to see a hailstorm of birds falling toward me.

Eyeing the distance the car is closer than the house, so I sprint for the car.

The rain of death intensifies. Bodies hit me left and right.

The ground is now covered with avian corpses. Their bones crunch under my feet as I struggle to open the car door, and dive inside.

As I drive down the road, the strange phenomenon stops.

***

7:00 AM

The alarm clock crushes my dream of lounging on a beach.

Shower

Dress

Coffee

Toast

I watch the news during my morning routine.

“… the CDC reports that a new strain of bird flu may have made it to our shores. Officials aren’t yet sure if it’s contagious to humans, but to be on the safe side, they recommend caution. If you see a dead bird, don’t go near it. Call the number on your screen immediately.”
I turn off the TV and walk out the door.

Who would be dumb enough to mess with a dead bird?