Even in the rainy darkness of freezing January, Gavin took his
evening walk round the lake. The water was grey and the ducks
asleep, but the geese were still lurking. Gavin was wondering how to
get out of fulfilling the investment that idiot in media relations
had agreed. It would see the lake cleared of the algae that had been
polluting it, but where was the profit in that? The bank was already
popular, it didn’t need to be jumping on the local green issues
band wagon.
As usual half way round, Gavin’s colleague Jeremy jogged past.
This time, he didn’t greet him, because pursuing him with wide
flapping wings was a big white goose.
‘Leave me alone!’ Jeremy was shouting, ‘I’m on your side!
I’m a vegan!’
Gavin chuckled, typical Jeremy; too woke to say boo to a goose. He
reached the loneliest part of his walk, where the trees closed in and
there was a steep bank between path and road. The darkness was
nearly at night level, Gavin noticed with irritation that the street
lamps hadn’t come on. He thought in the distance he heard a blood
curdling scream, but couldn’t be sure, it was muffled somehow. He
turned to look and saw a big white goose standing in the path behind
him. Gavin frowned and carried on his walk, picking up the pace.
The goose followed, wings at a wide angle, neck stretched out, beak
open, a touch of swaggering menace in its gait. Another goose joined
it and another, their webbed feet slapping on the concrete path.
Gavin turned again and the geese stopped, eyeing him malignantly.
Gavin told himself not to be silly. OK, he’d seen one chasing
Jeremy, but Jeremy had always been a wimp. He walked on, into the
dark, the rain pouring down. There was a noise behind him, growing
steadily louder, slap, slap, slap, the sound of webbed feet hitting
tarmac. He whirled round, there was a huge flock of geese behind him
now, the big white one at the front, its head snaking forward.
‘Shoo!’ he said angrily, ‘go away!’
The geese didn’t move, instead the white one opened its beak and
hissed.
‘Boo!’ shouted Gavin, flapping his arms and running at them. He
stopped suddenly, aware that he had dashed into their midst. He
turned back, but a row of beaked heads blocked him. The first peck
hit him in the ribs like a punch, then something flew into his back,
knocking him forwards, his feet slipped on the wet ground and he
pitched forwards on his hands. Honking with triumph the geese rushed
in on him, their hungry beaks tearing at his flesh, their feathers
muffling his screams.
Later, when darkness had fallen completely and the gates to the park
had been locked, the geese dragged what was left of Gavin’s body
along the path. They left him and Jeremy’s bodies together,
underneath a sign that said; ‘Park Lake will be closed temporarily
due to an algae infection. You are advised not to feed the geese.’
