Then Monk gasped.
Gone! The bird was gone! A moment's peace, a moment's peace, a moment's freedom from torment—
No! The vulture returned, bent on its evil purpose. It wouldn't be denied; it raked its razor-sharp claws across Monk's shoulder; dug its beak into his chest; flapping, flapping—
Fletcher Monk screamed.
He opened his eyes, admitted a rush of clean air gratefully into his lungs.
"It's a miracle," said Bill Christy. "Nothing more. You were in a bad way, Mr. Wheeler, but you'll be okay now."
"Thank you, thank you!" panted Fletcher Monk.
"We're well on our way now. We'll reach the Big Bird in a matter of minutes—"
"The Big Bird?" said Monk in horror.