The Flight of the Silvers (Silvers #1)(27)

“Wow.”

“Yeah. It kept on working, even when all the electronics died. Were you awake for that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“This morning at 4:41, the electricity went out everywhere, even in battery-powered devices. My father woke me up, all excited. He suspected it was some kind of electromagnetic pulse wave. It lasted nine and a half minutes.”

Mia thought about her own father, who’d taken a much bleaker view of the power outage.

“My dad’s a scientist,” David told her. “He lives for this kind of stuff. He was so thrilled by the E-M pulse, he kept me up all morning, bending my ear with wild theories. When I suggested the possibility that this was a man-made occurrence and not entirely benevolent, he dismissed it. He wasn’t scared at all. He just . . .”

He noticed Mia wasn’t listening anymore. She aimed a grim and distant stare at the floor.

“Anyway,” said David, “I think I’ve hit my limit on these diversions. Godzilla.”

He swiped the tower, sending it crumbling to the felt. In search of new entertainment, he began juggling a trio of pool balls.

Soon Mia noticed him again. She lightened up. “You’re good at that.”

“Yep. I may not have my father’s aptitude for science, but I am a prodigy in commedia dell’arte.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Tell me you know what that means, Italian girl.”

She smiled, despite herself. “Old-school theatrical comedy.”

“Very old.”

“So what does your name mean?”

“Dormer. French-Latin. It means ‘sleeper,’ which has never been more appropriate. Despite my awesome showmanship, I feel like I could nap for a month. Heads up.”

He gently lobbed a pool ball in her direction. She caught it with a yelp of surprise. David took another ball off the table, then resumed his juggling act.

“Maybe there’s some scientist in me after all, Miafarisi, because I find myself tempted to ask you about your experiences today, just to compare them to mine. I don’t want to cause you any more grief. It’s just that I’ve seen so much madness in the last two hours that I don’t know how to process it. I still haven’t ruled out the possibility that I’ve completely lost my mind. That would certainly explain the voices.”

Stuck for a response, all Mia could do was shake her head in empathy.

David had set her up to help him attempt a four-ball juggle, but suddenly thought better of it. He dropped the balls on the table and ran his fingers through his shaggy blond hair. Mia once again noticed how eclectically lovely he was, like an alt-rock angel.

“Just tell me one thing,” he pleaded. “Did you see the person who gave you your bracelet?”

“No. Whoever it was, they put it on me while I slept.”

He blew a loud puff of air through fluttering lips. “Lovely. Could be anyone then.”

“What about you?”

“I’m pretty sure I have an alibi.”

“No, I mean did you see who gave you your bracelet?”

“I know. I was just being . . . Yeah, I saw her. I even talked to her. We both did. Me and my dad.”

“A woman?”

“A tall one,” said David. “Very beautiful. She said her name was Esis.”

They both turned to look when Amanda stepped into the doorway. She offered Mia a shaky smile.

“Look at you. I knew there was a pretty girl under all that dirt.”

Mia studied the thick new splint on Amanda’s left wrist. She found it strange that the fingers of Amanda’s good arm were the ones that twitched uncomfortably.

“I thought you were getting a cast.”

“In a few days,” Amanda explained. “Once the swelling goes down.”

Now Amanda looked to David. She started and stopped herself three times before speaking.

“I’m sorry. Did you just say Esis?”

A loud thud suddenly filled the parlor. A gruff male voice rumbled through the halls.

“WE NEED HELP HERE!”

The lobby once again teemed with people. Physicists burst out of every door to surround a newly arrived trio. The two standing men wore the same green uniform as Erin Salgado. One was young and square-headed. The other was older and sported a thick walrus mustache. They tended to an unconscious patient on a stretcher—a young Asian man in a faded Stanford sweatshirt. Thin trails of blood trickled from his nostrils.

Czerny emerged from the elevator and made a waddling dash toward the action. He caught Amanda and her young companions at the edge of the hallway.

“Take the kids back to the parlor. It’ll be all right.”

“Can I help?” Amanda asked.

“Thank you, but we’ve got this. Return to the parlor, please.”

The noisy mob disappeared down the corridor, leaving the guests to themselves. Mia eyed the small splatter of blood by the front door.

“God. What do you think happened to that guy?”

“I dunno,” David said. “I was more distracted by the cot beneath him. I can’t figure out what was holding it up.”

“Do you think he’ll be all right, Amanda?”

The widow didn’t respond. She was too busy staring in wide-eyed disbelief at the listless young woman who lingered outside. Her face was obscured by tousled black hair. Her T-shirt and jeans were scuffed with dirt. Her left arm was wrapped in a sling.