Ryan Castlebrook skidded the bike to a halt in front of the open paddock, exhausted after riding around Lewton for most of the afternoon looking for Billy and Richie. He was furious, his anger now surpassing any other emotion inside of him. If he could find them, he would make them pay without even thinking about the consequences. He felt agitated, embarrassed, and alone, his heart racing and his mind wandering to the pain he would inflict upon both boys.

He had lost them at the Pit because he was terrified of following them down the steep hill, and that only led Ryan to more frustration. Seeing only red, he dropped the bike at his feet and stared into the overgrown paddock in front of him, looking for any sign that the boys had been there. He had already gone to most places in Lewton searching for them and, finally, thought to try here at old Fey’s Paddock—a place where adventurous kids would sneak away for the day to drink their dads’ booze or smoke their hidden packs of cigarettes.

Ryan Castlebrook had been here often over the years, and, without knowing where else the boys could have gone, his instincts had made him ride here. It could be the perfect hiding spot, and if he hurried, Ryan thought he might even catch them before sunset. The fence was only about waist-high, and the steel wire that used to be taut between posts now drooped, requiring no effort to step over.

Ryan Castlebrook stepped over with his right leg, missing the small plaque reading “RIP Joe” that hung half-connected to the wire. The dried and dead flowers attached to the fence near the plaque fell with the slightest brush of Ryan’s leg as he navigated his remaining leg over the wire fence. Now, he stood inside Fey’s Paddock.

“I’ll find you two,” Ryan Castlebrook called out in hopes of getting a response, but only the whistle of the wind slapping his back replied, edging him to move onward and explore his surroundings.

He walked slowly forward and over the dry scrub hill that stood before him, and that’s when he glimpsed the huge monument that lay in front of him, peeking over the hill and watching Ryan walk towards it.

Ryan knew the water tower was located here but hadn’t seen it in person since he was little. Its large steel legs were overgrown with rust, and it stood on an uncomfortable lean, giving the impression that the tower was attempting to peer between the hills that surrounded it, watching for the first sign of someone to come. Its large ladder shot up like a rocket to the platform at the top, high above the ground, still giving off the impression that it was sturdy enough for people to climb. It beckoned Ryan Castlebrook to come closer.

Ryan froze, scanning the area for the boys, but there was no sign of life here. Even the smell was strange, making Ryan want to cover his nose. The only thing Ryan could compare it to was stagnant water. It was the same smell he remembered from when he was younger, when he would go yabbying at the river—the smell so distinct it was like when you had boiled an egg for too long. Ryan Castlebrook took a few slow steps forward to take in the Water Tower out of the glare of the sun, with uneasiness in his stomach, a churning sensation like when his father would question him. He looked at the large cylinder head of the tower near the roof for any signs that the boys had climbed to the top to escape him, but Ryan couldn’t spot any movement in the tower. He turned to walk away when he caught movement in the shrub about ten meters in front of him. Not enough to be a person, but something was definitely moving, causing the long grass to sway slightly.

Ryan’s curiosity overcame his uneasiness, and he edged forward more to see what was moving in the shrub. With each step forward, Ryan Castlebrook thought he would see the answer, but it wasn’t until he was just a few meters away that Ryan could see the cause. A small black bird lay fluttering on the ground, clearly injured, its tiny wings shuddering in the dirt, making a quiet flickering sound.

He studied the bird, and it wasn’t long before he identified it as a magpie, the same species of bird that would frighten young kids by swooping at them near the Jubilee playground in Spring. Ryan remembered that he hated the sound of the birds whooshing past him so close to his head, almost like a whip-cracking sound as it passed. He noticed that the bird seemed injured as it spasmed on the ground, its wings jutting for a few moments before the bird stopped and lay flat on the paddock’s dirt.

Ryan’s face suddenly showed a smirk of joy as he watched the injured bird. He bent over the bird to gain a closer look as something seemed to wriggle on its dark feathers. A maggot crawled on the bird, and Ryan could see a large wound on the underbelly of the bird. His gaze fixated on the wound, intrigued as to what had injured the bird, but instead of finding a cause, he was only intrigued more when he noticed that the bird had lots of live insects crawling all over it. It was like the wound was an entry into an ant hole, with hundreds of ants crawling over the bird, almost blending in with its jet-black feathers.

Ryan’s smile widened as he watched the ants scurrying around and clearly causing distress to the bird. Where he earlier believed only one maggot, Ryan could now clearly see more wriggling inside the gash as the wound seemed deep into the belly of the bird. Ryan Castlebrook picked up a small twig off the ground and poked at the bird’s bloated belly, just curious to see what else was inside it. A small painful chirp emitted from the broken bird’s beak as its wings fluttered in an attempt of escape. Ryan could see that although the bird was alive, it must have been there for a while on the ground struggling to survive. Its black beady eyes stared around as its head snapped back and forth, almost robotic like in its movements.

“What happened to you?” Ryan snickered with a laugh as he prodded at the dying bird with joy. To Ryan, this was the first good thing that had happened to him today. He had found something that he could kill without any consequence. He lifted the prodding stick and snapped it down on the bird's head, pinning the bird closer to the ground. If only he could do this to the people in his life that he hated. The sense of strength flowed into his body, and he was revitalised with energy at the prospect of taking the life from this small, pathetic animal.

Ryan Castlebrook was now not a stranger to killing animals, but it was hard for him to understand why he enjoyed it so much—it was like euphoria to him. He flung the stick to one side as the time for prodding was over, and Ryan stood up, gently covering the small magpie with the sole of his shoe. He pushed gently, feeling the mass under his weight as he applied pressure.

“Say bye,” Ryan Castlebrook spoke softly to the animal as he shifted his weight entirely onto the foot with the bird under it. The bird's body collapsed in on itself with a crunch that sounded like stepping on a large, curled piece of bark, and his shoe found the ground, causing the bird's insides to spill outwards around his foot. He watched as the bird's eyes popped out of its head, and as he lifted his foot to see his artwork, Ryan noticed that although the bird was now dead, the insects upon it had frenzied, running all over the dead carcass.

Ryan scraped the bottom of his bloodied shoe on the dry dirt, leaving a trail of thick, dark feathers. It was a welcome distraction for Ryan, who had spent too much of his day trying to locate those boys who needed to be taught a lesson.

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Ryan Castlebrook shifted his gaze up as something a few meters in front of him swayed in the grass. Now, without hesitation, Ryan bounded forward to see what it was, and to his surprise, he saw it was another injured magpie.

“Well, this must be my lucky day,” Ryan thought aloud to himself, knowing he got to torment another bird. But before he did, he looked around as the sensation of someone watching flooded his thoughts. However, Ryan Castlebrook couldn’t see anyone around and didn’t even give a thought to the intimidating tower watching his movements.

Before squashing the magpie, once again Ryan Castlebrook examined his victim. This bird was in even worse state than the first. He could see the dark grey beak of the bird was snapped and crooked, and its little legs were already gone from what was presumably insects feeding. Again, the bird was covered in maggots, its body bloated similar to the bird he had just trod on.

“Your turn.” Ryan stomped as hard as he could onto the magpie, and once again a crunch could be heard under his blood-stained shoes, and a similar result occurred to the last: its insides exploding outwards with the force. However, as more force was applied, the perimeter of the blood and insides was larger.

“So fucking cool,” Ryan laughed to himself. He studied the surrounding area to see if he could find a third, and to his surprise, he could. This next magpie was a little further away than the last, and without any thought, Ryan Castlebrook edged closer to the water tower with each bird he found. But before he could get his joy from this new bird, he heard something. A bang sound coming from somewhere above. Ryan quickly glanced up, trying to find the source of the noise, but couldn’t. It had seemed to come from the water tower’s cylinder body, but there was definitely nothing up there that he could see.

Leaving the bird dying on the ground, Ryan examined further and walked around to see the other side of the tower. His eyes followed the ledge leading around the top, but nothing could be seen. Ryan, startled by the noise, decided that he should double back to the magpie and then leave so he could hopefully find those boys before dusk.

But before he turned around, he heard another bang, this one louder than the last, and Ryan, now with a better viewing angle, saw a black object fall from the top of the water tower and land a few meters in front of him.

“What the hell?” Ryan Castlebrook thought to himself as he slowly crept uneasily toward the small mass that had fallen. There on the ground in front of him was another magpie, and to his surprise, this one still had maggots and insects crawling all over it. The bird, clearly diseased prior to the fall, fluttered weakly on the ground, its movements eerily similar to the others Ryan had seen earlier.

He bent down to examine it, curiosity momentarily overriding his discomfort. But before he could compare the similarities to the other diseased birds, a sound above him drew his attention—a faint fluttering that sent a shiver racing up his spine.

Quickly, Ryan leaned back and stared into the open sky. A small black object circled above him, swirling around the top of the water tower. Its wings glided effortlessly on pockets of air, and for a moment, Ryan thought the bird was simply trying to find a place to land. But then something about its movement struck him as odd. The bird wasn’t slowing its pace; it was speeding up.

Without warning, the magpie arced outward, tracing a large curve through the sky as if pulling away from the tower. Ryan’s eyes remained fixed on the lone silhouette, black against the bright blue sky. His thoughts raced, searching for some clue that might link it to the sick birds he’d crushed underfoot.

The bird’s flight path shifted again. It angled sharply, returning its direction to the tower, and now with a direct line, it picked up even more speed. Its dive was precise, controlled, almost as if it were swooping to protect its nest.

“Does it think the water tower is a predator?” Ryan wondered, but the thought barely registered before a thunderous bang shook him from his thoughts.

The magpie slammed into the tower’s steel body at full force. The impact echoed through the paddock, loud and jarring, as the bird’s trajectory changed instantly after the collision. Its body fell limply toward the earth, spinning and circling, its wings motionless—lifeless.

Ryan instinctively leapt back, moving just in time to avoid the falling bird as it hit the ground with a dull thud, mere metres from where he stood.

“Shit,” Ryan gasped, knowing if he hadn’t moved, the bird would have fallen directly on top of him. He stepped forward to now see both birds on the ground in front of him, and it was easy to see that they both looked similar. Both had wounds across their bodies, and the birds were clearly diseased in the same way. How many birds are just like these in this paddock? He thought to himself, suddenly looking around, trying to count the decaying birds in Fey’s Paddock. He was up to seven when a large shadow fell across him from above.

Pausing and knowing that just moments earlier there was not a cloud in the sky, Ryan Castlebrook looked again upwards to the sky for answers, and what he saw was hundreds of magpies swarming together, almost in a pack formation. Their joint flapping wings reminded Ryan of the sound of a clapping audience. He watched them arc outwards in a similar path to the last bird, and Ryan knew exactly what they were about to do as he watched them turn and speed towards the tower at full pace.

Ryan Castlebrook turned and started to run as the sounds of hundreds of birds smashing into the water tower could be heard. It was deafening, like fireworks being exploded in the sky above him. Ryan continued to run, picking up his speed, trying to clear the radius that the mass of birds above would need, but it was only seconds later the first thump from above was felt as the falling bird crashed into Ryan’s shoulder. Then another on his head, making Ryan raise his hands, shielding himself from the falling diseased birds from above. He screamed as another bird smashed into his right hand that was shielding his head, beak first, causing instant pain.

Ryan pushed on, running as fast as he could as the thumping of the birds into the earth around him, with such force, it dented the ground. Ryan’s feet crushed birds as he ran, making the ground uneven. Ryan was now sprinting to the edge of Fey’s paddock, near the tree line, with the hope that he would be shielded from the onslaught from above. But before he could make it there, his foot slipped on a decaying magpie, and Ryan fell into the field as the birds continued to plummet from above, all around him. Instead of climbing to his feet, Ryan Castlebrook crawled as quickly as he could, his hand crushing birds that had landed in his path. And then suddenly, as the birds stopped falling from the sky, an eerie silence fell across the paddock.

Ryan stood back up and could see the carcasses of hundreds of birds all around the paddock, spread out randomly among the tufts of grass.

Ryan Castlebrook turned and looked over to the tree line, which was now about ten meters from him. He started to walk in that direction for safety, in case another flock of suicidal magpies decided to do the same thing as the last. But Ryan’s feet froze when he saw something else at the bottom of the tree line in Fey’s paddock. Ryan could tell immediately that it was a naked female body. He froze in case the woman had seen him, but seconds later Ryan noticed the way the body was lying didn’t seem natural. Her face sunk into the root of the tree, and her hand reaching up the trunk, caught on a low-hanging branch, lay limp.

He walked closer, his heart racing, knowing that he could finally see a dead body, after countless animals that he had slaughtered through the years. Ryan wasn’t scared; he was excited. As he came closer, Ryan’s view improved, and it was exactly what he had assumed: a dead female body. Ryan savoured the moment and examined her from head to toe. Her body was covered in dirt as if she had been dragged to this spot. Ryan wanted to see how she had died, as he suspected that without lots of blood, she was possibly strangled. To understand this, he would need to flip the body over. His heart racing with excitement, his warm fingers met the cadaver’s cold body. She felt stiff, almost frozen, and Ryan used force to flip her over to examine her more clearly.

But as Ryan Castlebrook pushed to turn the body over, another thought entered his brain, one that outweighed the excitement. It was of recollection. Ryan Castlebrook stood back as the body was revealed, and his jaw dropped, hanging open.

“Mum?”