When Devils Sing(106)
But Sam wasn’t listening. Feral fear coiled within her as she desperately pulled on the chains, ignoring the sharp pain along her bloodied wrists. Her vision swam from the white-hot tears running down her cheeks as she realized this was the end. She would never see her brother again.
“Sam, stop,” Dawson hissed, reaching his hand toward her. “They’re coming.”
CHAPTER 46NEERA
1 HOUR
“You nervous, kid?” asked Grant Langley.
Neera sat in the shade of a massive tent, on an island in the middle of Lake Clearwater, cradling her Yamaha in her lap. “Nope,” she lied, tuning the steel strings with shaky hands. “You?”
Grant chuckled as his gaze swept over the audience before them—a sea of Clearwater folks, gathered along the island’s shore, waiting to be entertained. “Not in my vocabulary, I’m afraid.”
Neera wished she could say the same. She’d barely slept the night before, her body coursing with noxious adrenaline. Tonight was their one and only chance to save the lives of thirteen innocent people and she felt as if it all rested on her shoulders.
No pressure, Neera thought, willing her hands to stop shaking. It’s going to be okay.
Surrounding them were Lake Clearwater’s elite, wearing bright cotton and linen, lingering at cocktail tables. The sun had begun its descent that evening, but the air still sizzled with early July heat and anticipation. Neera wondered how many people in attendance were privy to the ritual. But you wouldn’t know a ritual sacrifice was happening within walking distance, judging from the infectious energy of the party. It was all Land of the Free dressed up in pearl earrings and bow ties.
Squeals and murmurs rippled through the crowd as guests angled their heads to the sky above and to the ground below. Neera heard the periodical cicadas before she saw them. While they were normally distant and unobstructive behind Clearwater’s gates, that evening, they hummed with an intensity not usually experienced on this side of the water. She pulled her feet into the chair as dozens of them skittered across the stage, while Grant ducked as more flew past his head.
The cicadas were a blanket of flying insects against the evening sky.
Across the crowd of people, Neera finally found Isaiah, her muscles relaxing at the sight of him. Good, she thought. It’s all going according to plan so far. He’d just arrived with his father in their own boat, their gazes also fixed on the cicadas moving toward the island’s dense forest. In an hour, at the start of her performance, everything would be set in motion.
Neera turned her attention back to Grant, who watched the crowd with a calculating gaze. “When will I know my mom is safe?”
Grant cut his eyes to her. “I’m workin’ on it.”
“Well, work on it harder,” Neera said under her breath. “We don’t have long, right?”
Grant watched the swarming cicadas, just as she did. “No, not long at all.”
REID
JUDGING FROM THE gathering cicadas, it was only a matter of minutes before Reid had to be in the woods with his family, which meant there wasn’t time for doubt or fear to creep in. Only action. He quickly found Isaiah in the crowd and pulled him to the water’s edge.
“You remember what to do?” Reid asked.
Isaiah nodded. “Film. Fire. Flee. Got it all in here,” he said, tapping his forehead. “And you?”
“Rescue. Fire. Flee,” Reid recited. There was more to both their roles, of course, but now wasn’t the time to mull over the details. “Remember, we’ll only have a little over three minutes to do it right.”
Isaiah flashed the digital watch on his wrist. “Found this old thing at the farm. Timer still works.”
“Smart thinking,” Reid said. He looked across the crowd of people gathered on the island, then turned his gaze to the crowded lake, where tourists and locals alike “boatgated” on the water in droves rivaling that of the incoming cicadas. He cleared his throat. “As soon as the fire kicks up, you and your father need to run. Get off the island as fast as possible, Isaiah. Don’t hesitate.”
“No way,” Isaiah protested. “I’m seeing this through with you. You need backup.”
“No,” Reid insisted. “If something goes wrong, it means I’m dead. You’re not risking your life, too. Besides, you’re the fail-safe. You need to get the truth out there, after all this. You have to. Otherwise, this will all be for nothing. Do you want that?”
“I hear you.” Isaiah went quiet for a beat, before he finally said, “Film. Fire. Flee. No detours.”
“No detours,” Reid repeated. He looked Isaiah over, suddenly realizing the weight of the moment. No matter how the night’s events went, he may never see Isaiah Johnson ever again. Their nascent friendship, if that’s what this was, had been forged under less-than-ideal circumstances, but it felt significant in a way he couldn’t quite articulate. “It’s been real, Isaiah.”
“Yeah.” Isaiah snorted. “See you on the other side, Langley.”
They fist-bumped and then they were off in their opposing directions.
Grant had begun speaking onstage by the time Reid reached his father’s side. His voice boomed through the speakers, carrying confidently through the thick, humid air, drowning out the growing hum of the cicadas. Before long, Grant welcomed the first musician of the night on the stage to perform. Three performers in total; Neera would be last. That’s when he and Isaiah would act and only then.