Boston, Massachusetts. Eight days since Goosepocalypse began.
Joseph ran from the geese, panting frantically, his breath ragged. He turned a corner, into an alleyway, crawling into a dumpster, holding his breath.
Don't find me. Don't find me. He silently prayed.
He could hear them waddling by, honking angrily. His heart beat frantically in his chest.
Then the alley went silent.