Black Bird of the Gallows(91)

Suddenly, Reece’s terrified face is in front of mine. He shakes my shoulders, calls my name. He sounds frantic, but his touch and his voice feel so far away, off in the distance. He’s talking to someone, arguing. Too many stings, someone says. A queen has never stung someone before…

Once again, the pain subsides. It’s like a lapping tide, slowly ebbing away. My senses switch off, one by one. Reece’s voice fades out. Everything fades out.

Is this it, finally? That precious, pendulous tipping point of life into death? How absurd that I’m wasting my last few moments thinking about such a thing. I’m so sorry, Dad. A different kind of pain twists my heart. I didn’t get to say good-bye. I feel so terrible about leaving him.

But I saved Reece, Deno, so many other people—even Rafette, who needed saving more than any of us. And I had to sacrifice only myself. My body seizes. I guess the toxins have reached something important, at last. A burning sensation creeps up my neck, then detonates in my skull. I’m flying apart. Breaking into pieces, one molecule at a time.

Bright light burns my eyes. A ripple of heat rakes over my burning skin. I’m being lifted, moved.

And then, nothing.

Blessed, glorious, painless nothing.





41-just a boy


It’s raining again. I can hear it on the roof. A cup of tea is getting cold on my nightstand. A pile of at-home schoolwork is piling up in my inbox. I snuggle deeper under my purple comforter and hug my right hand against my chest. It’s still red and painful and a constant memory of what happened in the playground nearly a month ago. The queen’s stings had become infected. I’m still being treated with antibiotics.

The house next door is empty again. The windows are dark. A fresh, new For Sale sign swings hopefully next to the street. It’s as if the Fernandezes were never there. I would seriously consider that maybe I imagined the whole thing, if my dad hadn’t regaled me with tales of how Reece carried me nearly a mile to the safe hands of paramedics. Or if Deno and Lacey hadn’t come over and made me relive every single moment. They’re a couple now, and I admit, it’s a little weird seeing them that way. Weird in a good way.

I wasn’t awake for any of my rescue, unfortunately. If I’d known that day would be the last time I’d see Reece, I would have made an effort to remain conscious.

I thought for sure he’d at least stop in at the hospital. To say good-bye, like he promised. To say something.

But he didn’t visit. Not once in the two days I was a patient there. Not once in the two weeks we stayed at the hotel while power and road access were restored to our neighborhood. Not in the week since my dad and I came home. I thought we went through something remarkable enough to warrant a good-bye, at least, but what happened in Cadence was probably just another day at the office for a harbinger of death.

Knuckles lightly rap on my bedroom door, and Dad pokes his head in. “Hey.”

Roger shoves through the open door and does a running leap onto my bed. He sneezes, then flops onto his back in a demand for belly rubs. Of course, I comply. He’s fully healed from the blow he took from the Beekeeper in the garage.

“How are you doing?” Dad comes in and perches on the edge of my bed. He smooths the hair out of my eyes. “Want me to reheat your tea?”

“No thanks,” I say. “I’m good.”

His brows draw together. “You very clearly are not good.”

“Yeah, I am.” I struggle to an upright seat with a wince. “Healing is hard work.”

“It is, but the body isn’t what’s bothering you right now.” Dad’s face softens. “Kiddo, you survived a landslide, a flood, all the insanity that ensued, and nearly died by stumbling on a colony of bees. Yet somehow I think heartache is causing you as much pain as that cracked rib.”

I shake my head and hold up my stung palm. “This still hurts more.”

“They sure did a number on you,” Dad says. “Over a hundred stings is a lot for a person your size.”

I smile weakly. “Sure. Remind me how short I am.”

“You’re not that short.”

My heart flips over in my chest. Those words didn’t come from my father. Roger’s tail starts up a rapid thumping.

I peek around my dad with dread and hope and the sudden urge to cry, and see Reece in the doorway. His arms are folded tight over his chest. He wavers at the jamb, as if unsure whether or not to come in. “Hi Angie.”

“Oh yes. By the way, you have a visitor.” My father clears his throat and gets to his feet. “Well. I’ll just give you two a moment.” He crosses to the door and pauses before Reece. “She’s still supposed to be resting,” he says. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“Yes sir,” Reece replies, a picture of deference. “Thank you for letting me see her.”

“Yeah, yeah. I made you wait long enough.” Dad mumbles something, then retreats, closing the door behind him, but not clicking it.

Reece looks healthy and handsome, in a blue T-shirt and jeans. He watches my father leave with a gentle, inscrutable expression. His gaze shifts to the floor and stays there. The room is so quiet. Too quiet.

I scrape my hair back and wish I had washed it recently. I don’t want to know what I look like right now. Thanks for the warning, Dad. I’m wearing Hello Kitty pajamas, of all things.