Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Soon, the unlikely group of eight are split among two cars on their way to the church in the heart of the town, two streets from the bar, right by the park and the school. As the chief hops out to unlock the building with the others following, Drake stays by the vehicles to listen, staring into the distance. That’s when the birds are sighted, dozens upon dozens of them, pouring into the empty park, flying and landing atop the roof of the church, power lines, nearby fences, even the cars. “What?” barks Layna when her mom looks her way. “I’m not doing anything!”
The inside of the church is old and musty, certainly not at the top of anyone’s priority list of being fixed up. A simple long room with rows of pews and an aisle down the middle that leads straight to a stage with a pulpit, old upright piano, and a modest crucifix hanging overhead, circled by candles. An annex spreads off from the side with a bathroom. Tucked in the back corner of that room by a sadly malnourished potted plant is a door. It opens to a set of narrow stairs leading down to a plain, one-room, rectangular basement lined with red brick and dark wooden bracing. The space is outlined with bookshelves, boxes of church items, folded sheets, stacks of things, knickknacks, all kinds of clutter. In the middle of the room is a fold-out table with a stack of fold-out chairs next to it.
Cade and her daughter quickly get to work laying out their items on the table, Cade giving directions from her big, ominous book. “No, no, we’re out of time for playing around,” she snaps the moment her daughter starts to complain. “We have got to make something happen before we run out of time.”
“What are we supposed to make happen?” asks Layna with due frustration. “We’ve been trying to figure out that ‘warding spell’ all day long and nothing happened. This is stupid.”
“We have no one here to teach us, Layna. Gran’s gone. If anything my fruitless quest through our family tree has taught me, it’s that all you and I have is ourselves. Jer Bear, be a sweetheart and light those candles, will you? The yellow ones.”
Layna makes a face. “Ugh, I’m not a witch.”
Cade looks at her. “Baby, we don’t know what we are.”
“I’m not a witch!” she doubles down.
“Then do you want to explain why you and I—only you and I—can read this weird book? I told you. Gran. All the stuff I saw her do. I told you over and over, I wasn’t crazy. All my visions …”
“Ugh,” groans Layna, looking away.
“And don’t get me started on all your damned birds …”
“I said that wasn’t me!”
Jeremy lights candles as he glances back and forth between mother and daughter, eyes caught in a tennis match.
Kyle heads back up the stairs to check on the others. Elias, Mikey, and Chief Rojas are gathered near the door, making for a rather strange trio of guards. The chief is sorting through cases of firearms, spread out on the back pew. Mikey paces, watching the windows, face reflecting absolute fear with his wide eyes darting to wherever he catches the slightest of movement.
Elias stands at the front window, his shape eclipsing the moonlight. Kyle comes to his side. He spots Drake standing in the yard outside the church near the cars, staring into the distance, likely still listening for his brother. The birds are scattered all around, fidgeting, hopping, or sitting perfectly still, but none come within ten feet of Drake, creating a perfect circle around him. The scene is eerie and unexplainable.
“Any sign of anything?” asks Kyle quietly.
“No,” answers Elias. Then he adds, “Don’t come close to any of the windows, by the way. I placed random silver junk at every windowsill and other stuff from the box all over the ground outside. You know, acting like Lego bricks left on the floor by a kid for Mom to step on in the middle of the night.”
“Kids are such little shits.”
“They are.”
“I hope it’s enough.”
“You know damned well it isn’t.”
Kyle looks at Elias. He feels pinpricks of resentment that aren’t his own. He touches Elias’s arm. “Babe …”
Elias glances at him, says nothing.
Kyle drops his gaze to the floor—and his hand from Elias’s arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier. About the month thing. I don’t know why I said that.”
Elias turns his stone-hard stare outside. The chief, who can clearly hear all of this, continues fussing with his firearms, his eyes on his work, keeping to himself. Mikey keeps pacing the room from window to window, his paranoid eyes glued to each one, noting even the movements of dead leaves stirred by wind.
Sometime later after Cade’s come up from the basement to check on everyone, give Kyle’s arm a squeeze, whisper a word of comfort to the chief, then return to her work downstairs, the tension in the room seems to ease. Even Drake has taken a seat outside, cross-legged, some of the birds daring to come up to him as if expecting bits of bread. Mikey has also taken a seat, but at the end of a pew, right up next to a window, convinced he saw something. Elias and Kyle sit next to each other on the foot of the stage staring ahead at the front doors.