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He raised his trumpet and blew a long, piercing note. It echoed through the countryside. The sky fractured and filled with unnatural blue light that struck the earth, wounding it. From the wounds, more dead rose, wisps of smoke that took spectral form. So many dead—an unholy crop. Their bodies twitched and fluttered like lightbulbs threatening to short out. But their faces were all the same: powder-pale with snarling mouths hinting at their all-consuming hunger. Their teeth were so much sharper than Memphis remembered.
The field was dying. The trees dropped their leaves. The grass crisped and disappeared.
Gabe lowered his horn. Memphis watched in horror as Gabe’s throat ballooned, muscles working to dislodge something trapped inside. His head tilted back. His jaw dropped as if hinged; his lips spread unnaturally wide. Four wriggling insect legs whipped out and embedded their pointed ends into his cheeks. An enormous beetle eased itself from Gabe’s ruined mouth and landed in the dirt with a sickening plop. His face and neck bubbled with movement, something eating its way out, and in the next second Gabe’s flesh erupted in a spray of dark slime as the bugs burst forth and fell to the earth.
Memphis tried to scream but could not.
The giant beetle rose and stood on two feet like a man. It staggered toward Memphis, evolving.
“You think you’re prepared for this fight? You have no idea,” Gabe called, his voice joining the swarm. “Strike a bargain with him while you still can, brother!”
Memphis put his hand to the ground and it softened under his touch, greening just enough for him to free his feet. The dead closest to Memphis fell on the new vegetation, screeching and squabbling. In the fields, the dead devoured the dying crop.
“To the King go the spoils,” Gabe barked as the sky opened above them. The dead stopped and turned their open mouths upward, and the broken sky pulled the energy from their shaking bodies.
Memphis turned and ran toward the train. He no longer cared if anybody saw him or turned him over to the Shadow Men. He only wanted away from this horror. “Nelson! Coleman!” he called.
Passengers appeared at the windows. Memphis shouted, waving his arms as he ran. The doors were sealed shut; the steps were gone. Memphis slammed into the train and banged his hands against the cold steel. “Let me in! Let me in! Let me in!”
The passengers looked down.
They opened their mouths.
The beetles poured out like dark rain.
Memphis cried out as he came awake to the screech of brakes.
“Wh-what’s going on?” Henry asked, dazed. He felt drugged with exhaustion.
Memphis touched a hand to his chest, brushing at bugs that weren’t there. Daylight pressed on the other side of the curtains. The car was warm. He was safe in his berth.
Nelson’s syncopated knock sounded at the door just before he let himself in. “Get dressed. Hurry,” he commanded as he handed Memphis his shoes and shook Bill Johnson awake.
“Are we in New Orleans already?” Henry asked, pulling up his suspenders.
“Not quite. Just came into Sugarland, Mississippi,” Nelson said. “We’re being boarded by the Pinkertons. They’re hunting for Diviners. Somehow, they got a tip some might be on this train. I reckon you were seen getting on in New York.”
Henry and Memphis parted the window curtains a sliver. The platform crawled with local police and Pinkerton detectives, gold badges shining on their lapels and guns in their holsters. The conductors were readying the steps for them to climb aboard.
“We’re like sitting ducks,” Henry said.
Nelson’s expression was grim. “That’s why we have to get you off of this train—now.”
WHERE IT ALL STARTED
The drive upstate had taken Evie nearly all night. In the early hours of the morning, when exhaustion had overtaken her, she’d parked Will’s car off the road under cover of the woods not far from Jake Marlowe’s estate and managed to catch some sleep. Her dreams had been vivid. She’d been running down a busy New York City street after Mabel, but Mabel was always just out of reach. Evie called and called to her, but Mabel did not stop. And then at last, Mabel turned around. In her hands was a bomb inside an hourglass. As Evie watched, helpless, the last of the sand drained away.
“Good-bye, Evie,” Mabel said sweetly.
The bomb exploded and Evie woke, breathing heavily, her eyes wet with tears.
Sunlight poured through the windshield. It did nothing to warm her up, though. Her body was stiff and her fingers frozen. She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand and nudged Theta with her knee.
“Theta. Theta. Wake up,” Evie said, working out the kink in her neck.
“Five more minutes,” Theta moaned.
“We have to rescue Sam, remember?”
