Birds.
Gabbling, scuffling birds looking at her, getting closer. A ring of them. Screeching.
They were planning to come, planning the way they would attack. Louder and louder. Ready to peck her through the sack, at her ankles, into her stomach to reach the softer insides of her.
Bleu jerked, kicked out her feet and opened her eyes.
Very pale, fuzzy light reached through the sack. She cringed at the thought of those birds. Big and black, buzzards, crows.
Imagining things.
There were birds, but they sang their morning songs, the ones she loved to hear when she was first up. The air felt warm, and dank scents had faded. Someone would find her; she knew it.
Why had the man done this to her? He knew she was here. Once more, her stomach clenched.
Why would someone try so hard to stop the new school from being built?
Bleu tried to blink grit from her eyes.
She hadn’t wanted to visit Kate Harper with Cyrus and Madge. Her mind had been on Roche and what Madge had told her about him.
That day, Kate complained about the prospect of a new school. She’d talked about the fire and the children being killed.
No one in town had ever mentioned those children, but the older people must remember. The memory was too painful. It had to have touched so many families.
Bleu’s exclamation made her retch again.
Building over the place where children had died was the reason. For many, the site must be a place of remembrance. The families—who were they? Where were they? Those poor people had to be talked to, because that’s where the answer to Jim Zachary’s murder would probably be found.
Someone should have brought their pain and horror at the idea of the forgotten children to Cyrus. All of the plans could have been changed.
For someone, anger had turned to a crazed quest for revenge.
Now, she saw it all.
Too late. Jim already died. The grieving relative of a long-ago-lost child had no chance to turn back.
“Bleu!”
She held very still.
“Bleu!” The second voice was different from the first.
They were looking for her, of course they were. She turned her head from side to side, ground her teeth into the gag. Since she’d been left there, she had tried to bite through the cloth and free her mouth. The stuff only sopped in more saliva that ran back into her throat.
“Bleu Laveau. Can you hear me?”
Yes, yes. I’m here.
More distantly, other voices cried out, but she couldn’t make out what they said.
She tried, but no scream came from her.
Her arms were free inside the bag. She should be able to tear it apart. It wouldn’t give, not even a little, because of the tape wound around and around.
They could trace some tapes and find criminals that way.
“Bleu, where are you?”
Here. I’m here. I’m here. Her own shouts got quieter in her mind. They were so tiny they were coming from miles away.
Slashing sounds started. Beating. A whole bunch of people were out there thrashing at whatever was around her, determined to find her. They would.
On her knees, she worked to crawl, but she fell. Her bound ankles didn’t budge, one from the other.
She felt her tears. She felt intense pain where her flesh hadn’t turned numb.
Bleu stayed where she was, facedown and crumpled.
The shouts went on and on.
Then they stopped.