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“At least they’re not afraid of you. My mama and daddy are afraid of me,” Sarah Beth said. Isaiah thought that was really sad, but he couldn’t tell if Sarah Beth felt sad or mad about it.
“Why?”
“They don’t understand my gifts. They don’t like it none, either. I’m not… normal. Like other girls.” Now Sarah Beth did seem sad to Isaiah. He wished he knew what to say to make her not be so sad.
“Do you really know how to stop the King of Crows?”
She nodded. “I think so. I can’t do it by myself, though.”
“Can you tell me?”
“When you get to Bountiful. It needs to be all of us. He’ll try to keep us apart so we can’t get strong and defeat him. You know what he did to Conor.”
Isaiah did know. Conor was dead, and it was the King’s army that did it.
“Don’t worry, Isaiah,” the girl said.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I can tell. Where are you? Why aren’t you here?”
“We’re traveling with the circus,” Isaiah said.
“The circus?”
“Uh-huh. They’re helping us get to Bountiful.”
“Oh. I’ll bet the circus is something. I’ve always wanted to see it, but Mama says we can’t spare the time away from the farm. And she’s worried it’ll be too much excitement and I’ll have a fit. I never get to go anywhere,” Sarah Beth said, sounding both mad and sad again.
“I’ll bring you a souvenir!” Isaiah said. He was excited that he’d have something to tell her about that was special.
Sarah Beth’s whole face lit up then. “Well, that’s real nice, Isaiah. Real nice. It’ll sure be good to have a friend. You will be my friend, won’t you, Isaiah?”
“I will,” he said.
She put out her hand, palm up, and Isaiah understood that she wanted to touch their hands together. Softly, he touched his skin to hers. She gasped, and her eyes rolled back in their sockets just like Memphis said Isaiah’s did during a fit. And then Isaiah felt like somebody was squeezing him from all sides, like a tube of toothpaste. He saw so many things, coming hard and fast: A golden machine surrounded by the rays of the sun. Soldiers falling from the sky. The King of Crows opening his coat with the too-bright lining. And Isaiah wanted to see what was there for him. What was waiting inside that coat. But then he was somewhere else. Dust-covered towns still as death. Bone-white bodies glinting in dust. The sharp curve of teeth. Ghosts on the road. An army of hungry dead as far as Isaiah could see, and they were running.
Sarah Beth’s blank face, looking at him. “Are you my friend?”
The sound of water. Water all around. Rising, rising, pulling him down…
When Isaiah came to in the acrobats’ wagon, he was sweated wet. But he was okay, too. Not woozy the way he sometimes was after a vision. He had a new friend, and together they were going to do great things. They would stop the King of Crows.
He couldn’t wait to get to Bountiful.
FLOOD
“This is it! Greenville, Mississippi,” Henry said with relief.
“Remember what I told you now,” Bill warned.
“Mmm,” Memphis said, committing to nothing. He’d already had enough of the South. He wished he were back in Harlem, at the 135th Street Library, talking to Mrs. Andrews, his favorite librarian, or listening to the rumble of the elevated train running the length of Eighth Avenue. The lack of city noise here unnerved Memphis, especially after his bizarre dream on the train. All those insects and nature sounds. He needed the hustle and clamor, the streetside jazz of New York.
“I hope there’s something to eat in Greenville,” Henry said, rubbing his stomach, which growled loudly.
“Then walk faster,” Bill said.
