When Devils Sing(58)
Neera slowly approached, rounding his body, and froze. The animal’s stomach was cut clean open and exposed, his bloodied rib cage a stark white against the black of the shining asphalt. The buck was gurgling, breathing heavily. Blood pooled from the edges of his mouth.
It was as if something had attacked the deer, ripping him wide open.
But as Neera peered closer at the animal, she realized most of his organs were gone from his body. Instead, tucked within the rib cage, and resting against the spinal cord, was her guitar.
The world spun. Neera stumbled to the ground, vomiting what little she had eaten that day. Braced against the asphalt, she looked again at the animal, nausea rolling through in waves.
“I’m so sorry,” she whimpered to the buck as she crawled beside him. With shaking hands, she reached inside the animal’s chest cavity; gripping the neck of the guitar, she slowly pulled it out. The sound of it sliding out of the buck was enough to make her vomit again, but there was nothing left within her, only bile.
The Yamaha was slick with gore, but it was no longer broken. The neck was restored to the body, the strings taut and tightened with the bridge. There were no scratches or dents. It was perfectly intact, as if Nanaji had never broken it at all. As if it wasn’t a sixty-year-old instrument but a newly crafted thing of beauty.
Beside her, the dying, mutilated buck was an awful sight.
This is what a gift from the devil looks like.
Tearing her eyes away from the deer, Neera realized she had no idea where she was.
Neera willed herself not to panic. She took a deep breath, following along with the buck as he continued to crawl. Part of his antlers had snapped off. His eyes were wide and desperate. The animal sensed a danger that Neera could not see, but she absolutely felt. If Crow had done that to the buck, would that mean he would do that to her, too?
Headlights shone brightly ahead, rounding the bend of the road. Neera covered her eyes with her arm, gasping as the car headed directly for the deer, and her. In a swift move, the car braked, screeching loudly, and veered off the road and onto the shoulder, stopping just short of the trees.
It all happened quickly, but the driver’s reaction was just fast enough. Though the car was now stuck in the ditch. Its tires spun in the dirt several times before coming to a stop.
The driver’s door opened, then slammed. A tall silhouette stepped from around the car, carrying a flashlight, looking between the deer and Neera.
A young man’s voice called, “Hey, are you okay?”
Neera stayed where she was, an assumedly safe distance from the stranger and his car. “I’m fine,” she said, hesitating. “But this deer isn’t. Can you help him?”
“Help?” the man parroted. He approached the deer with little hesitation, kneeling before it. After examining him for a beat, the man, who really sounded more like a boy said, “Goddamn.”
“Looks like he was attacked,” Neera offered as an easy lie.
The boy peered up at her, the flashlight illuminating his features to reveal a clean-cut, all-American-boy face. Adorned in worn Top-Siders, a button-down, and khaki shorts, he was, undoubtedly, a Clearwater kid. But with his straight nose and steel-gray eyes, Neera recognized him as a Langley. Her eyes flicked to his car, an old-school Land Rover, finding a small, monogrammed RL sticker on the back window. Reid Langley. Grant’s elusive nephew if she remembered correctly.
Fuck.
“Must’ve been something mighty big to do this kind of damage,” Reid said. His eyes took in Neera’s appearance. The gory guitar at her bare feet, the blood on her hands and clothes. His gaze hardened slightly. “What’re you doing out here?”
Neera didn’t know how the hell to answer that. She barely even understood what had happened to her. It still felt like a nightmare she was waiting to wake from. “I got turned around in the woods is all.” She motioned to the deer. “I heard him bleating and I followed the sound. I thought something bad was happening.”
“So you headed toward the unknown danger?”
“Yeah,” Neera said, wrapping her arms around herself. The air was warm, but she felt a chill taking root in her bones. “Could I borrow your phone? I need to call my mom for a ride.”
“You don’t have a phone?” It sounded more like an accusation than a question. His eyes examined her clothes, most likely wondering if Neera was a hitchhiker.
“Look,” Neera began. “My family owns the motel off of Highway 40. I was out in the woods behind there earlier tonight but got lost trying to get back. I’m not some weirdo or whatever.”
Reid rose from the ground, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Never said you were.” He reached into his pocket, holding his phone outward. “Here you go.”
It was the newest model iPhone. No case. Cracked screen. She scoffed.
Neera dialed one of two numbers she had memorized. Kiran’s phone didn’t ring at all before it cut to voicemail. Confused, Neera called again. And again. Each time, it cut to voicemail. Her mom’s phone must’ve been off while she was working.
Anger and fear swelled within Neera. The only other number she knew off the top of her head was Ajay’s. The thought made Neera want to cry. It made her want to scream. She inhaled a deep breath, calling her mom’s phone one more time.
Reid watched her intently.
Neera’s cheeks flushed as she handed the phone back to him. He gave nothing away with his face.