SHYAO

An alternative version of the Xiao legend from China in my story XIAO

         The Cranshaw family were driving their shocking blue 2022 model Ford Raptor down Blakely Street, Perry in the Victorian countryside, heading out into the forest for a day of fun and sun, photographing the wildlife, and getting accustomed to life in their new town and new country.
         “Theo Entwhistle tells me we’ll fit right in here in Victoria,” said Lucius ‘Luke’, forty-nine, a tall black American, lean but powerful.
         “Anything has to be better than smog-filled Detroit,” said Bonnie ‘Bon-Bon’, forty-three, a tall, black woman with large breasts and a slightly too large behind.
         “Yeah, Suzie Carmichael says that Glen Hartwellians are fine with blacks,” said Bryan ‘Bry’, sixteen, a tall, anorexically thin girl.
         “Just so long as you’re not an Abo.,” teased Graham ‘Gray’, fifteen, medium height and slightly buck-toothed.
         “She did not say that,” protested Bry: “Suzie is close friends with Adelaide Donadin an Ab ... indigenous Aussie.”
         “What the heck is an Abo.?” asked Gillian ‘Gill’, thirteen, a short, beautiful girl wearing wire-rimmed glasses.
         “That’s what white and Asian Aussies call the Aborigines,” insisted Gray: “Apparently they’ve been getting out of hand the last few decades with an illegal fake embassy on the lawns of Parliament House in Canberra, making wild allegations about coaches and players in the Aussie Rules Football League, and trying to disenfranchise the majority of Aussies, in what’s come to be called the ‘V for Defeat’ referendum in October 2024.”
         “Well it sounds racist to me,” said Bon-Bon: “Like when we were called coons, niggers, or darkies in the States.”
         “We were never called coons, niggers, or darkies in the States,” pointed out Gill.
         “Not us literally, but black Americans as a people.”
         “I can remember when they called us coons, niggers, or darkies in the States,” insisted Bon-Bon.
         “Yes, but then Lincoln freed us,” teased Gray: “We not be slaves no more.”
         “That is not funny, Gray,” protested Bon-Bon, glaring at her husband for snickering at Gray’s attempt at humour.
         “And Mum and Dad aren’t old enough to have been around in the slave days,” insisted Bry: “Granny Cranshaw maybe, but not Mum or Dad.”
         As the teenagers giggled, Bon-Bon glared at them, “Your grandmother is nowhere near that old.”
         “I heard that she was once married to Lincoln,” teased Gray.
         “No,” said Luke between laughter, “she once owned a Lincoln Continental.”
         “Weren’t those made in 1939 or something?” teased Gill.
         “They were made from 1939,” corrected Bon-Bon, “until half a dozen years ago.”
         “So she bought the first one off the assembly line in 1939?” asked Gill, making her siblings guffaw, and her father grin widely.
         “No, she owned a 1970s model at that time,” insisted Bon-Bon, not amused like her husband.
         “What in 1939?” teased Bry.
         “How could she own a 1970s model in 1939?” asked an increasingly frustrated Bon-Bon.
         “Maybe Doctor Who took it back in time for her,” suggested Gill making everyone, except Bon-Bon laugh riotously.
         “Lucius, why are you laughing?” demanded Bon-Bon: “She’s your mother? I’ve seen pictures of her when she was a young and beautiful woman.”
         “Yeah, but she aged badly after marrying Lincoln,” said Gray, causing riotous laughter from all except his mother.
         “Oh, God!” cried Luke, having to stop to avoid crashing the car.
         “She’s a fine old lady, and you should show her more respect!” insisted Bon-Bon.
         “Don’t be so pompous, Bonnie, the kids are just having a little harmless fun,” placated Luke.
         “You should show more respect to Delilah!”
         “Why, why, why, Delilah?” sang Gray making everyone except Bon-Bon roar with laughter again.
         “Well, at least they have good taste in music to know a Tom Jones song,” offered Lucius.
         “Who the heck is Tom Jones?” asked Gill.
         “Delilah is by Kanye West’s younger brother, North South East West,” said Gray: “‘I’m askin’ you why, Delilah you bitch,
         “‘Why you’re never satisfying my itch?
         “‘I’m askin’ you, Delilah, you ho?
         “‘Why you always keep sayin’ no?
         “‘Why, why, why Delilah
         “‘I’m askin’ you why, Delilah you bitch,
         “‘Why you’re never satisfying my itch?
         “‘I’m askin’ you, Delilah, you ho?
         “‘Why you always keep sayin’ no?’”
         “Something tells me that they’ve updated it since Tom Jones sang it,” said Luke, making even Bon-Bon laugh this time.
         
         Mi Ling Coen and her parents, Tung Wu and Swan Li Chiang, were walking along Cochran Street in Percival Township in the Victorian countryside that Thursday, the 16^th of April 2026, heading toward their home at number forty-two, when the massive black shape appeared overhead.
         “That’s strange,” said Mi Ling, twenty-seven, a beautiful Asian woman, dressed in a traditional red dress with golden animal designs upon it: “It was bright and sunny a second ago.”
         “Yes,” agreed her mother, Swan Li, an older version of Mi Ling, also dressed in a traditional Chinese red-and-gold-patterned dress.
         They all looked up and saw the colossal dark blue-black bird gliding not far overhead.
         “What kind of bird is that?” said Tung Wu Chiang, Mi Ling’s father, a tall, powerfully built man dressed in a white business suit in contrast to the dresses of his wife and daughter.
         “I didn’t know we had any birds that big in Australia,” said Mi Ling.
         “Well, we have types of pelican, eagle, bustard and albatross in this country,” said Tung Wu: “But they all have wingspans around three metres or less; that one looks like it has at least eight metres across.”
         As though realising that it was being discussed, the Shyao let out a hellish shriek, sounding more like the cry of a large ape than any known bird, before flapping its vast wings to soar away from the Coen-Chiangs easily.
         “Thankfully, it wasn’t hungry, or we might have been its next meal,” said Mi Ling, only half joking.
         “Yes,” agreed Tung Wu, sounding surprisingly stern for once: “We had better go inside to be on the safe side.”
         “You don’t really think it would attack us?” asked Swan Li as her husband ushered her and Mi Ling in through the wrought iron gates to number 42.
         “Better safe than sorry,” insisted Tung Wu, shielding his womenfolk with his own body until they were safely inside.
         
         Terri Klein and her subordinates were seated around the large blackwood desk in the front office of the Mitchell Street Police Station in Glen Hartwell, enjoying meringues and tea or coffee, when the front door of the police station suddenly opened.
         Looking around, they saw Tung Wu Chiang entering the police station.
         “Tung Wu, great to see you,” said Terri, standing to greet him. A tall, beautiful blonde, Terri was the Senior Sergeant of the local police department.
         “Lemon Meringue?” asked Sheila Bennett. A tall, athletic Goth chick with black-and-orange-striped hair, Sheila was Chief Constable of the area, and Terri’s second-in-command.
         “No, thank you,” said Tung Wu, sitting upon a chair provided by Colin Klein, a tall redheaded Englishman married to Terri.
         He quickly told them what he and his family had seen earlier.
         “A colossal dark blue-black bird?” asked Alice Walker, a tall, forty-something brunette: “Do we have any birds like that in Australia?”
         “Emus are a grey-blue colour,” said Suzette Cummings, a short eighteen-year-old with long raven hair: “But, of course, they can’t fly.”
         “I think I know what it was,” said Tung Wu, finally giving in to Sheila’s offer and taking a small meringue, which he devoured before continuing: “In China, there is a legend of a creature called a Xiao.”
         “Shy what now?” asked Sheila, confused by the pronunciation, ‘Shyao’.
         “In Chinese mythology, the Shyao originates from the ancient text Shanhaijing, or Classic of Mountains and Seas,” explained Tung Wu: “It is distinctively described in two ways: as a long-armed, gigantic, winged ape with a very human, Asian face or as a four-winged, black or blue one-eyed bird.
         “It is said to inhabit remote, rugged mountain ranges -- specifically Mount Yuci and Black-Ewe Station Mountain in western China.
         “Finally, the Shyao is known for its loud, echoing calls that mimic territorial apes. We heard it give such a cry as it flew overhead in Percival.”
         
         Finally the Cranshaws stopped their trek into the forest outside Perry where they lived.
         “Smell that sweet eucalyptus and pine aroma,” said Luke taking a number of deep breaths.
         “It certainly beats the smog and petrol fumes of Detroit,” agreed Bon-Bon.
         “So let’s start photoing,” said Gill: “Or is it photographing?”
         “Hey look at that strange, brown rock,” said Bry, walking across to it.
         Suddenly the rock took off, making her squeal and fall onto her backside, sending up a puff of pine needles and dried gum leaves.
         “It’s a wombat,” said Bon-Bon, taking a video of the run-waddling marsupial.
         Fortunately it only ran away a fifteen metres or so, so that the Cranshaws were able to sneak up upon it to snap off some pictures with their phones, with Luke, a professional wedding photographer using a full-frame, mirrorless camera offering lightning-fast autofocus with eye-tracking, and allowing completely silent shooting.
         After a moment, however, the wombat had had enough and waddled away, not bothering to run this time.
         “Well there goes our first Aussie native model,” said Bon-Bon.
         “But not Dad’s last if he gets to take pictures at Aboriginal weddings,” said Bry.
         “Or do they just jump a boomerang and say, ‘I wed thee’?” teased Gray.
         “Enough of that talk, son,” said Bon-Bon.
         “Yes, or Mum’ll go gonzo again,” teased Gill.
         “I never go gonzo, whatever that is!” insisted Bon-Bon.
         “I think it comes from one of those Bonzo movies made during World War Two,” said Luke: “Bonzo Goes Gonzo.”
         “Well that’s ...” began Bon-Bon, starting at the sound of rustling in the blue gum tree just behind her. Looking up she saw a large brown and fawn coloured animal. “Is that a koala?”
         “I think it’s a tree kangaroo,” offered Bry.
         “No, tree kangaroos only live in the tropical rainforests of Queensland,” explained Gill, who was the brainiac of the three teenagers.
         “It’s definitely a koala,” said Luke, “but it’s a bloody big one, pardon my French.”
         “Do they say a bloody big one in France?” asked Bry.
         “Only virgins on their wedding night,” teased Gray, making even Bon-Bon laugh this time.
         “I think he’s gonna grow up to be a comedian,” said Luke, snapping off some pictures of the huge male koala.
         “Or at least a clown,” corrected Gill.
         “It’s a pity that it isn’t moving,” said Bon-Bon, videoing the creature.
         “I’ll get him moving,” offered Gray.
         Picking up a small stone, he bounced it off the koala’s backside, making it squawk, then take off up the tree.
         “I suppose I should thank you,” said his mother: “But I don’t want to encourage your assaults upon the local wildlife.”
         Over the next hour or so they managed to film a few red kangaroos, a wallaby, a short-beaked echidna, and the rear end of an emu, which was going too fast for them to get into clear focus.
         “Now if only we could see some of the birdlife,” said Luke.
         “I think that’s a kookieburra up that red gum tree,” said Bry.
         “It’s pronounced ‘cook-a-burra’,” explained Gill.
         “I hate being corrected by my younger sister,” said Bry.
         “I hate having to keep correcting you,” teased Gill.
         “She’s got you there, Sis,” said Gray, making everyone except Bry laugh.
         They snapped off a few pictures of the kookaburra, before hearing loud flapping overhead. Looking up, they saw a huge blue-black bird flying toward them.
         “I didn’t know they had birds that big Down Under?” said Bon-Bon.
         “Well, emus and cassowaries,” said Gill: “But they can’t fly.”
         “This one can definitely fly,” said Luke snapping off picture after picture of the large bird as it kept flying toward them.
         “It seems to be coming straight at us,” said Bry, a little frightened.
         “I doubt that it plans to attack us,” said Bon-Bon.
         “A cassowary would,” said Gill, “they’re psycho birdies.”
         At that moment, the Shyao plummeted toward them and landed upon Bon-Bon, knocking her over backwards, and then began gouging at her face and chest with its lethal talons, or pecking chunks out off her with its large, curved beak, shrieking like a gorilla rather than like any known type of bird.
         “Get off her, you bastard,” cried Luke, racing across to grab the blue-black bird around the chest to attempt to physically pull it away from his wife.
         Shrieking again, the massive, three-metre tall bird began gnawing at Luke’s hands, almost ripping off his right hand, forcing him to drop his expensive camera, while still ripping at Bon-Bon with its eagle-like talons.
         Bon-Bon began shrieking in terror, holding onto her right breast, which had almost been ripped away from her chest as the avian horror kept kicking and clawing at her.
         “Get away from her, you overgrown budgerigar!” cried Gray.
         He raced across to defend his mother, who had gone grey-faced and looked as though she was about to pass out. Picking up a small fallen tree limb, he ran screaming toward the massive black-blue bird.
         As Luke passed out from lack of blood, collapsing to the forest floor, the Shyao was able to concentrate entirely upon the teenage boy. Leaping up, it kicked the branch out of Gray’s hands with its great talons, then while descending, managed to claws across the boys face, shattering his left eye, and almost severing his nose entirely from his face.
         Shrieking in terror, Bry and Gill turned and raced back to the shocking blue 2022 model Ford Raptor, just managing to get into the rear seat seconds before the ferocious bird slammed into the side door, bashing it inwards, only making it stick fast, locking the girls in on that side.
         Furious at it’s failure to reach the two girls, the Shyao shrieked its gorilla like shriek again, leaping up onto the roof of the car, then, reluctantly, took to flight again.
         
         Tung Wu was preparing to leave the Mitchell Street Police Station, when Gillian Cranshaw rang through to tell them of the assault upon her family.
         “I think I had better go with you,” suggested Tung Wu, as Sheila, Terri and three other police headed out into Mitchell Street, where Lemon-scented gum trees planted around Glen Hartwell gave the street a sweet lemony aroma.
         Just over an hour later, they reached the attack scene, where five air ambulance helicopters had arrived, already taking off again with Bonnie, Lucius, and Graham Cranshaw.
         While Sheila took the crime scene photos as best she could, they interviewed Gillian and Bryan, before Terri said to one of the air ambulance paramedics:
         “Okay, you can take the girls away.”
         Returning to the group, Sheila said, “It’s a pity we don’t have any pictures of the overgrown budgie.”
         “Actually we do,” said Gill.
         Taking her sister’s phone and her own, she raced across to hand them to Terri Klein.
         Returning to the Mitchell Street Police Station, they had Suzette Cummings upload the videos and pictures of the huge avian to the station’s PC.
         Watching a video of the bird as it flew along, then swooped down onto Bonnie Cranshaw, Tung Wu said:
         “That is definitely the bird which flew above us in Percival.”
         “Tweety gets around then,” said Suzette Cummings, a small eighteen-year-old, with long raven hair.
         “So what’s next?” asked Colin.
         “I guess we hire Louie Pascall’s Bell Huey again, and patrol Glen Hartwell and its surrounds, looking for an oversized budgie,” said Terri.
         As Terrie rang through to Louie, Sheila called out, “We’re coming to get you, you moth-eaten Big Bird Wannabee!”
         
         The Wishbone Family were driving through the forest not far outside Elroy Township, in their four-year-old, sea-green Toyota Rav4 Edge, looking for a good place to camp for a couple of days.
         “So, Mum,” asked Faye, sixteen, a tall deathly thin blonde with shoulder length hair, “how come a looker like you married a fat ugly geek like Dad.”
         “Guess who’s getting a sock full of coal for her birthday in a couple of weeks?” teased Dorsey, fifty-two, a short, fat bespectacled man with long red hair.
         “Well, we met, clicked, fell in love and got married,” said Emma, forty-three, a tall, attractive blonde with a generous chest.
         “You clicked before getting married?’ teased Frances ‘Franny’, fourteen, a medium height pretty redhead, wearing contact lenses: “Wasn’t that illegal or something when you two were young?”
         “We’re not exactly dinosaurs,” pointed out Dorsey.
         “No, but you are virtually museum pieces,” teased Maxwell ‘Maxie’, fifteen, a short strawberry blond boy with King Charles-type ears.
         “You’d be a lot more interesting if you were dinosaurs,” insisted Faye: “I love dinosaurs.”
         “You wouldn’t say that if you were living sixty-five million years ago,” teased Maxie.
         “Actually, I’ve never liked those pretty boy types,” said Emma: “They preen and flounce around too much.”
         “And steal all of your make-up to beautify themselves,” teased Franny.
         “That’s true,” agreed Emma.
         “Not to mention trying to bum you in bed at night,” teased Faye.
         “What was that?” demanded Emma.
         She spun around to whack at Faye; however, the teen was too fast at sitting back hard in her seat.
         “You’ll have to be quicker than that, Mum,” teased Franny, making everyone except Emma laugh.
         “So how long are you planning to have us playing Robinson Carouso out here in the wilderness?” asked Faye.
         “What day do you go back to school after the Easter break?” asked Dorsey.
         “Monday the twentieth,” said Franny.
         “Well, today is the sixteenth, so that makes four days of fun and sun playing Robinson Carouso in the wilderness outside Elroy Township,” teased Emma.
         “Actually carouse means to get into a newt-like state,” corrected Dorsey.
         “What does that mean?” asked Franny.
         “Drunk as a judge,” said Maxie.
         “That’s why we call him Maxwell Not-So Smart,” teased Faye.
         “Maxwell Not-So Smart?” asked Dorsey.
         “Yeah, like that cartoon character Maxwell Smart, voiced by Don Adams in Inspector Gadget,” explained Franny.
         “I think you’re getting your Don Adams shows a little confused, sweetie,” said Emma.
         “Did Don Adams voice characters in more than one cartoon show?” asked Faye, for once not teasing.
         “Try to talk you way out of that one, honey,” teased Dorsey.
         “No, you’ve got it all the wrong way around,” protested Maxie: “Don Adams wasn’t a real person. He was a character in Inspector Gadget, voice by an actor named Maxwell Smart.”
         “Oh,” said Franny.
         “Well, that makes more sense,” insisted Faye: “As if anyone in real life would be called Don Adams.”
         “Now Maxwell Smart on the other hand,” said Franny: “That’s a perfectly normal, believable name.”
         “Go on, honey, explain it to them,” teased Dorsey.
         “Nah-ah, they’re happy believing what they think they know,” said Emma: “At least we’ll save a fortune on school fees, because none of them will be going to University.”
         “At the moment, I doubt that any of them will even complete high school,” teased Dorsey.
         “Hey, are you saying we’re not brainiacs?” demanded Faye.
         “Brainless quacks maybe,” answered Emma.
         “And I thought you were my Mum!” said Franny angrily.
         “I was there when you popped out, honey,” said Dorsey: “So I’m pretty certain that she is your Mum.”
         “That’s not quite what I meant,” admitted Franny.
         “It’s a good thing we’re teaching them wilderness craft,” teased Emma: “Because I don’t think any of them will ever get employment in town.”
         “So, you’re saying that we should sell up our house and business, and buy a small farm nearby?” asked Dorsey.
         “If we don’t want them living at home, on the dole for fifty-plus years before retiring,” teased Emma.
         “I think they’re being snarky at our expense,” said Faye, not quite certain.
         
         As the blue and white Bell Huey took off Louie Pascall, a tall bald man in his late forties asked, “Where to this time Tezza?”
         “Where would gigantic birdies perch?” asked the blonde.
         “In gigantic trees?” teased Louie.
         “I was gonna say in gigantic bird cages,” teased Sheila Bennett.
         “Okay, we are officially not talking to you anymore, Sheils,” teased Louie.
         “I was thinking in an eyrie of some sort,” suggested Colin.
         “Good, yes,” said Terri.
         “You mean Weird Tales Magazine’s Editorial section, The Eyrie?” asked Sheila sounding puzzled.
         “No, Sheils,” said Colin, trying not to sigh from frustration: “An eyrie means an eagle’s nest, usually way up a mountainside or cliff overhang.”
         “So how many mountains do we have around G.H. and the surrounds?” asked the Goth policewoman.
         “Lots,” said Louie as they started out.
         Over the rest of the day, they flew around all of the local mountains, starting with Mount Wanderei, near Wilhelmina, where they found a rocky tor overhanging halfway up.
         “Taking her down for a closer look,” said Louie, doing just that until they were hovering a few metres above the rocky overhang.
         “No sign of any form of nest,” said Terri.
         “Do you want me to go down for a closer look?” asked Sheila, always ready for action.
         “Maybe later, if we come back,” said the blonde: “But for now there are still plenty of mounts for us to check out.”
         Over the rest of the day they investigated Mount Abergowrie on the northern side of Glen Hartwell, five kilometres outside town; Mount Drynan outside East Merridale; Mount. Hargreaves (the third largest mountain in Victoria, and the fifth largest in Australia), ten kilometres or so outside Westmoreland; Mount Inverness, eight kilometres outside Elroy Township; Taylor’s Peaks outside LePage; Mount Thompson, in the forest just shy of Daley; Mount Russell, outside Pettiwood.
         
         After reaching their desired destination, a large clearing in the forest, within sight of the Yannan River, Dorsey said:
         “We’re here, chilblains.”
         “Dad!” protested Maxie.
         “Don’t call us that, it makes us sound like illnesses,” said Faye.
         “Well, you can be a pain in the arse sometimes,” teased Emma.
         “Mum!” cried the three teens.
         “All right,” said Dorsey, “I’ll set up the barbeque to start cooking tea, while you three help your Mum to set up the tents.”
         “Dad!” protested the teens.
         “You’re not here to bludge while your mum and I look after you,” insisted Dorsey.
         “Why not, we do that at home,” said Maxie, regretting it immediately.
         “Now you know why we call him Maxwell Not-So-Smart,” said Franny.
         “You’re here to learn wilderness training, kids,” said Emma: “Putting up tents will be the easiest thing that you have to do over the next four days!”\
         “What?” demanded the three teenagers.
         “I knew they’d see it our way,” teased Dorsey.
         
         Towards the end of the day, they reached Mount Russell, which has a great hole from mining in the 1890s on one side, about a hundred metres up, called Gurugadji’s Valley.
         “We’d better check out Gurugadji’s Valley,” suggested Terri, so Louie landed the Bell Huey.
         Colin stayed in the chopper to protect it in case the Xiao was hiding nearby and decided to attack, while Terri, Sheila, and Stanlee Dempsey went to check out Gurugadji’s Valley. Fortunately, Mount Russell was an easy climb, and they had soon entered the great hole, holding loaded shotguns in one hand, and using military-style torches to light the way.
         “These torches are a beauty,” said Sheila: “They light up the cavern almost as bright as day.”
         “It’s a pity that they only last six to eight months before you have to throw them away and get new ones,” said Stanlee, a huge ox of a man with short raven coloured hair.
         “Why are you complaining?” asked Terri: “The department pays for them.”
         “Yes,” agreed Sheila, “we get two free super torches every year.”
         At that moment, something moved at the other end of the cavern.
         “Look out, giant Tweety Wannabee!” cried Sheila, before taking off toward the back of the cave.
         “Sheils, wait for us!” shouted Stanlee as he and Terri tried to catch up with her.
         At the end of the cave, they discovered that it turned right, and Sheila had continued that way in pursuit of the fleeing creature.
         “God, she’s a fast mover,” complained Terri as they sped along.
         Finally, they almost collided into the back of the stationary policewoman.
         “No shot, Sheils, so I guess no Tweety Wannabee?” asked Stanlee.
         “Nope, but I scared the shit out of an innocent cave-dwelling wallaby,” said the Goth chick, lighting up the startled creature with her flashlight.
         “Don’t worry, little fellow,” teased Stanlee: “We’ll take the scary Goth chick away with us.”
         “You wouldn’t say that if it had turned out to be a gigantic blue-black Tweety Wannabee,” responded Sheila.
         “No, we’d be saying, oh my God, is that bloody, shredded mess all that remains of Sheila Bennett?” replied Stanlee: “Then I’d be asking if I could be promoted to replace you as Chief Constable of the area.”
         “Over my dead body!” insisted Sheila.
         “Exactly,” agreed Stanlee.
         “Let’s get back to the chopper,” said Terri, between laughter.
         
         Despite a lot of complaining from the three teenagers, Emma, Faye, Maxie, and Franny Wishbone managed to set up the tents in forest outside Elroy Township.
         “Why three tents?” asked Faye.
         “One for you and Franny, a single for Maxie, and another double for Dorsey and me,” explained Emma.
         “Wouldn’t it have been simpler to have a large tent for the three females, and a medium-sized one for Dad and Maxie?” asked Franny.
         “But what if you father and I wanted a little lovey-dovey time at night?”
         “Ooh, wrinkly sex,” said Faye.
         “We didn’t think you’d still do it at your ages,” said Maxie.
         “Yeah, don’t your dried up old bones creak when you try doing anything that physical?” asked Faye.
         “Creak? It’s a wonder they don’t break,” insisted Fanny.
         “We are not wrinklies!” insisted Emma: “Your Dad is only in his early fifties, and I am in my early forties.”
         “Wrinklies!” stated the three teenagers.
         “Tea is ready,” called Dorsey, “steak and egg sandwiches, with a dab of pepper and plenty of tomato sauce.”
         Dorsey and Emma sat on a throw rug to eat, while Faye, Maxie, and Fanny sat in the family’s sea-green Toyota Rav4 Edge eating in comfort, with their steak sandwiches in one hand and a can of diet Coke, or Pepsi Max in the other.
         They had almost finished eating, when Dorsey called, “Hey kids, come and look at this massive blue bird flying toward us.”
         “Can’t, still eating,” insisted Faye.
         “Come on you lazy sods, it might be looking for something to eat,” said Emma, not knowing how true that was.
         “Oh, we’d better go before the old folks start nagging us,” said Franny.
         Groaning like old folks themselves, the three teens got out of the car, leaving the doors wide open and ambled as slowly as possible across to where their parents were sitting.
         “I bet it’s only a sparrow,” teased Faye.
         As she spoke a hellish shriek came from the sky.
         “Or possibly a seas gull from that screech,” said Maxie.
         “Let’s hope Mum and Dad haven’t left any unfinished food out, or seagullasaurus will swoop down and snatch it,” teased Franny.
         “It looks like it’s coming straight for us ...” said Maxie, stopping as he started to realised the tremendous size of the approaching avian.
         “Sea gulls don’t grow as big as emus, do they?” asked Franny.
         “Not the last thing that I heard,” said Faye, not really certain.
         “Isn’t it a whopper?” said Dorsey Wishbone.
         “He said that to Mum on their wedding night,” whispered Maxie: “She was so disappointed.”
         As the three teens started guffawing, Emma asked, “Dare I ask what’s so funny, kids?”
         “No, you daren’t,” said Faye, just before the Shyao swooped down and landed upon Maxie’s chest.
         Shrieking almost as loudly as the great blue-black bird, Maxie fell over backwards, making himself a ready target for the creature that started to peck at his face with its oversized beak, until he raised his hands to cover his face.
         Shrieking its gorilla-like scream, the Shyao started pecking at the teenager’s hands, ripping away the dermis, then fat and veins, determined to get at the youth’s juicy eyeballs.
         “Dad! Mum! Help him!” shrieked Franny, however, Dorsey and Emma were already charging at the creature.
         Emma wielded a large antique china plate; Dorsey grabbed a fallen gum tree branch and between them they started whacking at the head and neck of the monster avian.
         “Get off our brother!” shrieked Faye, not certain whether she should try to assist her parents, or whether she would only hinder them.
         “Let my son alone!” cried Dorsey, hammering at the Shyao repeatedly with the blue gum branch.
         Squawking in rage, the creature abandoned Maxie, leapt up and kicked at Dorsey’s face with its lethal talons, all but ripping the fat man’s face right off his head.
         “Dorsey!” cried Emma.
         She raised the fine china again to assault the giant creature, but stopped as it jumped up and kicked her in the stomach, making the tall, attractive blonde shriek like a Banshee during mating season, as it shattered her pancreas.
         “Mum!” cried Faye charging across to attempt to help Emma.
         Shrieking its ape-like scream again, the Shyao leapt up to grab Faye’s shoulders in its talons, raised its eight-metre wings and took off with the screaming girl carried below it.
         
         The blue and white Bell Huey was already upon its way to Mount Peterson, the only local mountain that they had not already checked, when Terri Klein’s mobile phone shrilled. After speaking for a moment or so, Terri disconnected and said:
         “That was Franny Wishbone, out by Elroy, their family has just been attacked by the Shyao.”
         “Have you got the co-ords?” asked Louie Pascall.
         Terri handed him her mobile phone and he changed course.
         When they arrived at the latest attack site, Emma Wishbone was still shrieking from agony, despite being attended by Jesus Costello.
         “Will she live?” asked a white-faced Franny, looking as though she could pass out any second.
         “Yes, but she needs emergency surgery,” said Jesus, a tall, strongly built fifty-something man and chief surgeon at the Glen Hartwell and Daley Community Hospital.
         Although there were two wheeled ambulances only, Jesus looked up in obvious relief at the whir-whir-whir sound, signalling the arrival of Air Ambulance Helicopters.
         As the ambulance landed, Jesus instructed, “This one first, and I’ll have to go with her. Tils, you go with Dorsey when the second air ambulance arrives.”
         “Will do,” said Tilly Lombstrom, a tall, attractive, fifty-something brunette, Jesus’s second-in-command.
         While Sheila took the attack scene photos with her phone, Terri and Colin interviewed the two teens as best they could, allowing the air ambulances to take Emma and Maxie away as soon as they had them aboard.
         Finally, as Faye and Franny were taken in the two wheeled-ambulances, Terri said, “You go with them Colin, so we’ll have room in the Bell Huey if we find Faye in time.
         As Terri and the others set out to chase the Shyao, Sheila said, “I’m getting some kind of signal on my phone ... I think it’s from Faye’s mobile phone.”
         “Give me the co-ords, and let’s go save her,” suggested Louie Pascall.
         
         Over at Mount Peterson, the Shyao landed and looked at Faye Wishbone, not quite certain what to do with her. Finally it let out its hideous gorilla-like shriek, answered by Faye’s Banshee-like shriek of terror. Puzzled, having never had anyone shriek back at it before, the creature shrieked at Faye again, only to have her shriek back at it again.
         The creature walked slowly around the tall, thin blonde, clearly puzzled by her, before shrieking again, only to receive an answerint shriek from Faye.
         
         Following the signal from Faye’s mobile phone, Louie Pascall said, “It seems to have stopped moving ... I think it’s at Mount Peterson.”
         “It would be at the last mountain that we checked,” complained Terri.
         “That’s your fault,” teased Sheila, “you had us start at the wrong end. We should have started with Mount Peterson, rather than finish with it.”
         “Thank you for that advice, WPC Bennett,” teased back Terri.
         “So does that make me the new Chief Constable of the area?” teased Stanlee.
         “Not if I push you out of the helicopter, constable,” replied Sheila.
         “No sweat, Sheils, I’ve got my safety harness on.”
         “So if there’s any skydiving to do on this mission, you can do it, Stanlee, not Sheils,” suggested Louie Pascall.
         “Nah-ah!” protested Sheila: “I’m the department’s champion skydiver.”
         “You almost dived once without having your safety harness on,” reminded Terri.
         “She’s never gonna let me live that down, is she?” asked the Goth chick.
         “No,” said Terri, Stanlee, and Louie as one.
         “Snarky so-and-sos,” said Sheila.
         Half an hour later, they arrived at the side of Mount Peterson.
         “No sign of her,” said Sheila in the shotgun seat.
         “I’ll try the other side of the mount,” suggested Louie, accelerating the Bell Huey again.
         They saw a tall, thin figure waving at them, almost as soon as the crossed over to the other side of the mountain.
         “Faye Wishbone as I live and breathe,” said Sheila Bennett, starting to open her door.
         “Wait until we’ve landed,” called Terri.
         “Yes, Mummy,” teased Sheila.
         When they had finally landed, Sheila leapt out, rolled under the still spinning rotors, came up running.
         “I think that roll and come up running was for our benefit,” said Stanlee.
         “Well she did top police college at anything and everything physical,” admitted Terri.
         Sheila raced across to hug Faye Wishbone tightly.
         “My favourite mad Goth chick!” said Faye as Sheila picked her up to carry her back to the chopper.
         “I’m gonna take that as a compliment,” said Sheila, carrying the teen back to the Bell Huey.
         “So what happened to Tweety, honey?” asked Terri when they were back in the helicopter.
         “I don’t know; after we shrieked at each other a few times, it just took off.”
         As the helicopter started up again, Sheila said, “Well, that was easy peasy.”
         Then they heard the gorilla-like shriek of the Shyao as it soared into vision a few hundred metres away.
         “Sheils, I wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” said Stanlee.
         “Take her up as high as she’ll go!” ordered Terri.
         “Will do,” said Louie Pascall, sending the helicopter climbing rapidly.
         Shrieking again, the four-winged, one-eyed creature flew up after the ascending machine.
         “Surely it can’t go as high as we can?” asked Stanlee.
         “It’s a supernatural monster,” pointed out Terri: “I’m not certain that the laws of physics or aerodynamics apply to it.”
         “See,” said Sheila, “she’s a brainy one, that’s why I copied off her so much during our school days.” When everyone except Faye looked at her, she added, “What, you already knew I cheated off Tezza during exams and tests.”
         “Get the safety harness on, Sheils, and stand on the skids to try to shoot that thing out of the sky.”
         Doing as instructed, Sheila put on the leather harness, attached to a thirty-metre strap, and climbed out onto the skid outside the helicopter.
         Taking Stanlee’s shotgun from him, she held a shotgun in each hand.
         “I don’t think even Simon Pegg did this in Hot Kopz,” said the Goth chick.
         “It was Hot Fuzz, and watch out that you don’t fall,” corrected Terri.
         “Trust Tezza to know that,” said Sheila.
         She waited until the Shyao was less than ten metres away from the chopper before opening fire with both shotguns at once. The recoil from the shotguns pushed her off the skid, so that she plummeted down until the safety harness bungeed her back up to the helicopter skid.
         Dropping one shotgun, she sat upon the skid and fired repeatedly upon the four-winged blue-black bird, until finally, screeching in pain and anger, the Shyao plunged to Earth many kilometres below.
         “Bye-bye Tweety, you great freak!” shouted Sheila, making everyone in the chopper laugh.
         “She does have a way with words,” teased Louie as Sheila climbed back into the helicopter.

THE END

© Copyright 2026 Philip Roberts

Melbourne, Victoria, Australia