“She’s very sick, Danny,” Evan panted. He didn’t want to scare Danny, but he needed a miracle to happen now. Kylie’s body floated easily in the water but Evan still kept both arms wrapped around her, willing her to feel him there.
***
The others arrived moments later. Alik instinctively sank into the water to relieve his burning skin, but had resurfaced, still blinded and coughing. Farrow held his arm gently.
Cole was scary quiet, still leaning heavily on Sloan. Theo and Margo quietly worried he was suffering internal bleeding from the looks of his ghostly pale skin.
Theo had taken Margo from Creed as her buoyancy in the salty water made her very light. He held her carefully, her dead legs bobbing uselessly to the side.
Creed knelt in the water so Danny could stand on his knee, half submerged. The family formed a loose circle and waited.
They looked expectantly at the four-year-old. Danny just grinned.
“Don’t worry. Everything is going to be just fine. You’ll see.” He reached out to hold Margo’s hand to his left and touched Evan’s arm to his right. “We all need to hold hands. It’ll work better like that,” he explained.
Once everybody was touching and the circle was formed, Danny bowed his head. He leaned down so his Cupid’s bow lips nearly kissed the surface of the rippling, black water. With eyes closed, he began to whisper. His voice was soft and melodic and though no one could make out his words, everybody sensed a quiet confidence in the little boy with blonde curls. All eyes watched the littlest Winter hopefully.
Moments later, from the shoreline, Maze’s powerful, sharp barks pierced the quiet of the night.
29 Numbers in the Sky
Dawn’s majestic awakening spilled oranges, yellows and reds into the passenger windows of the private jet cutting its way northeast toward Pennsylvania.
Donovan Arkdone squinted with disgust at the painted sky and slammed the shade down over it.
Adrian Roth, the Senator’s campaign manager, paced stiffly up and down the short aisle, his phone crammed against his ear to hear over the roar of the jet. Arkdone glared at him, arms crossed in his plush leather chair. He hated waiting.
His servant, Ermos, had only stepped out of the main cabin to prepare the Senator’s breakfast.
Finally, Roth swept his finger across the screen and dropped the phone into the breast pocket of his perfectly tailored dress shirt.
His expression was vague as he hurried to take the seat across from his boss.
“Sir, I just wanted to be sure of its validity before I shared this data with you.”
“And?”
“And I just got confirmation.” He felt around his pant pocket and fished out a black notepad.
“Enough grandstanding!” Arkdone snapped. “What have you found out?”
Both men ignored Ermos as he rolled a galley cart arranged with gold-plated dishes—gourmet pieces fit for royalty. Ermos stood respectfully to the side of the cart, awaiting further orders. His loyal but simple mind was only concerned with anticipating the Senator’s needs and meeting those needs efficiently. The conversation between Roth and Arkdone continued uninterrupted.
“Going in to the Brisbee Benefit your numbers were solid. You were slated to win with sixty-eight percent of the votes. Sixty-eight percent! That would have hurtled you across the winning line easily.”
“What are you saying, Roth?”
“Something must have happened at the benefit. Something big enough to sway forty-one percent of the room away from you!”
The creases in Arkdone’s brow deepened when he narrowed his eyes as though trying to see the answer through fog.
“Sir, our pollsters performed the standard follow-up calls to the constituents last night checking each for confirmation of their vote. They responded to our questions with the same two excuses.”
Arkdone’s eyes started to widen as realization began to set in, though he said nothing.
“When asked why they chose not to cast their votes for Senator Donovan Arkdone they either said,” he flipped open the notepad still in his hand and quoted, “‘He’s not the best choice for our party or for our country.’ That was the first response. The second was, “Not Arkdone. He’s not worthy of my vote’.”
“Meg!” he shouted.
“Meg Winter? What has she to do with—”
“Damn her!” Arkdone flew from his seat, eyes wild with uncontainable rage. “She’s responsible for this!” The senator raked his fingers through his hair and held his head in a vise grip. His face was blood red, mouth opened wide in a silent scream. He shook with fury as a stream of obscenities flew from his mouth like vomit.
“How the hell did I not sense her doing it? Shit how did she do that anyway? To influence an entire crowd of people? I had no idea she was so powerful! She must have worked the entire room, Roth! I bet she even said those exact words in her message! ‘Not Arkdone! She TOLD them not to vote for me!”