When Special Investigator Clayton Yonder (a.k.a. my boyfriend) came out on the podium of the Gossamer Gardens ballroom to speak about the terrible threat looming over our wildlife, I could have, should have, and normally would have considered it an opportunity to view him outside the perimeter of our relationship, and revel in how spit-and-polish handsome he looked in the light khaki shirt and dark khaki slacks (or whatever muddy colors they were) of his uniform. However, the usual pitter-pat of my heart rapidly took a back seat to his dramatic presentation.

First thing he did was to nod toward the back of the room where an audio-video guy had set up a piece of equipment I didn’t recognize, except that one of its components seemed to be and/or have an illumination source.

Clay said “Okay, Lewis. NOW.”

The aforementioned Lewis bent over his contraption, pressed a few buttons, and …   voilà … like magic (dark magic), the overhead lights dimmed, and the walls of the ballroom suddenly blazed with flickering images of monstrous, menacing, and truly terrifying creatures.

They were all variations of the Terror Bird that I had seen and then drawn at (and on my way home from) the MRI Clinic where I’d first met Archie the Giant Chickadee and the other bird and bug friends we encountered along the way.

The likenesses being projected on the walls were not of my drawing per se, but of the bird that I had drawn … faithfully and artistically reimagined: Terror Bird stomping on a rattle snake; Terror Bird soaring skyward with a squirming squirrel in its beak; Terror Bird swooping down on a pigeon; Terror Bird digging its claws into the hindquarters of a baby deer and lifting it into the air. And in one comparatively staid representation: Terror Bird standing upright beside a large ruler, informing us that this massive 30-plus pound predator was over five-feet tall with wingspan of over four-feet.

All of which translated into pretty damn scary.

Ugh. I mean, really, truly, and deeply … Ugh.

These images were displayed for no more than one minute before Clay spoke again from the podium. “Okay, Lewis. That’s enough.”

Suddenly, the overhead lights came back on. Projections of swooping, attacking, ravaging, and dive-bombing Terror Birds, however, remained on the walls. Less vividly than they had been when the room was in darkness. But still intimidating.

Clayton Yonder, lead investigator of the National Park Service Avian Slaughter Task Force, looked out at his audience, and began to speak.

“The pictures displayed on the walls of this room are of a brand new, never-seen-before, laboratory-fabricated predator that, sadly, lives up to its name. We call it the Terror Bird.

“I am leaving them up as I speak, because I want you to remember what you see. Not a vague recollection, like the guy who delivered your pizza last night. But as a memory scorched into your soul, like your first and worst nightmare.

“We at the National Park Service are depending on you – the media – to spread the word. To share pictures of the Terror Bird with everyone who watches your newscasts, podcasts, and Internet posts. We ask you to include them in the articles you write, the conversations you have, and the speeches you give. Because from now on, the survival of so many species, including our own, is going to depend on it.”

Special Investigator Clayton Yonder lowered his elbows to the podium, leaned forward, and stared at the audience. The place was packed, not only with members of the press, but also with park service rangers, grounds keepers, veterinarians, laboratory technicians, wildlife refuge volunteers, and all of the members of the Avian Slaughter Task Force.

I’m guessing that, including those standing at the back of the room, there were over three-hundred people in attendance, and as many video cameras. Clay’s eyes continued to sweep the audience. They met mine for half-an-instant. He gave me the briefest of nods before he dropped his hands to his sides, stood up straight again, and continued.

“Because we have only recently identified the nature of the threat, we’re at the earliest stages of developing a plan to deal with it. The old maxim about knowledge being power is particularly applicable here, so I’ll tell you what we already know about the Terror Bird:

“First and foremost, it is raptor … a bird of prey. Unlike all other raptors, however, the Terror Bird, which, please remember was laboratory-created – like Frankenstein’s monster – was smuggled into our country and transported to Gossamer Gardens for the sole purpose of annihilating our native wildlife population. Also, unlike other raptors, who kill to eat, the Terror Bird kills to kill. It targets songbirds. It eats rodents, reptiles, and other small animals to survive.

“But it kills songbirds for fun.

“Now, since your reports have to be both accurate and comprehensive, I will describe the Terror Bird’s execution strategy, which is both fascinating and repulsive. Take notes. First, with a razor-sharp beak, it clamps its prey by the neck. Then, with surgical precision, it bites the spinal cord of, and paralyses its victim, vigorously shaking it, snapping its vertebrae, and breaking its neck.”

Again, Clay’s eyes roved over his audience, noticing, I was pretty sure, the horrified expressions on everyone’s face.

“The Terror Bird is an apex predator,” he went on. “This means it is the biggest, baddest, and meanest son of a bitch in the valley. He’s the bully who steals your lunch, beats up your grandmother, rapes your sister, puts your baby brother in the oven, .and then beheads your entire family in their sleep. There are no bigger, badder, and meaner sons of bitches in the valley to challenge him.

“That’s the bad news. The good news is that not only are we on the Avian Slaughter Task Force going to challenge the Terror Bird…” And as he spoke, Clay’s voice became stronger and deeper with conviction, “We are going to flush it out of its hiding place. We are going expose it. And we are going to destroy it.”

He paused to look down at his notes, and heard the first smattering, followed by a growing and growing and growing tumult of applause. When he looked up again, Special Investigator Clayton Yonder smiled briefly. Then he raised his hands to quiet the crowd.

“I can clue you in on only one more attribute of the Terror Bird before we run out of time, but it’s a doozie and will make tracking and eliminating this invasive species a real grind. The Terror Bird’s feathers, we have discovered, are coated with a reflective substance that takes on the coloration of its surroundings. So, when it is perched in an evergreen tree, it seems to turn green, but on a sugar maple tree, its plumage becomes orange or red. And so on.”

Clay lifted his wrist, looked at his watch, and frowned.

“I have to stop talking now, because we have the room only for five more minutes. But before you leave, please take one long, hard, last look at the pictures on the wall. Since the National Park Service has limited staff and resources, we cannot be everywhere at once. So, we are depending on you and your followers to be our eyes and ears. If you or they see anything that even might be a Terror Bird, contact us. You don’t have to be right in your observations. Just be alert.”

Once again, Clay looked at his watch.

“Okay. Time’s up. I’ll be outside in the hall to answer any of your questions. A direct line to the Avian Slaughter Task Force and a link to our website is on the first page of your information packet. If you want to contact me directly …”

Special Investigator Clayton Yonder recited his cell phone number, and I noticed that just about everybody in the ballroom wrote it down. Then he thanked one and all for coming, caught my eye, and mouthed the words “Meet me outside.”

Copyright © Shelly Reuben, 2026. Shelly Reuben’s books have been nominated for Edgar, Prometheus, and Falcon awards. For more about her writing, visit www.shellyreuben.com