Page 86 of Envious Of Fire
“It’s already half past,” points out Cade.
“Then three-ish,” he revises, “and that’s yet another reason I need my coffee. Anyone else want a cup?” After he is returned three blank stares from his guests, he sighs, sets down his empty mug, grunts, “Fuck the coffee. Let’s just get this over with.”
A few minutes later, they step out of the house.
Only to find the entire unfinished sun deck—and the whole front yard, and the driveway, and the street—covered in birds. Preening. Peering around curiously with their tiny, beady eyes. Some hopping here and there, fidgeting, wings flicking, a sea of feathers and twitchy little heads.
Elias’s eyes grow double. “The fuck …?”
Layna just stands there with her arms crossed, as if merely annoyed by the sight rather than scared. “So?” she says when her mother gapes at her. “They followed us. Big deal.”
Cade and Elias exchange a look.
20.
Madame Rose.
—·—
Elias is on the road with Cade in the passenger seat. Layna and Jeremy are in the back, Layna worriedly trying to soothe her boyfriend. Elias had prepared a bag of ice from the freezer, which Jeremy is pressing futilely against his crotch, though it seems to do nothing about his situation, perhaps only dulling the presumed ache. The more time passes, the more Layna is appearing to believe this isn’t just a tiny medical mishap any old doctor can rectify, and she keeps glancing over her shoulder at the back window, as if expecting the horde of birds to be flying along with them in pursuit. Cade keeps nervously talking about anything that comes to mind while switching between stations on the radio every few minutes, never satisfied with the music that plays. Elias can hardly pay attention to any of it, too wound up himself with the place they are headed—and the uncertainty of where Kyle is spending his daylight hours. Is he even safe? Did Lazarus lie and devour him the second he arrived? Did he not even find this “mouth armed with teeth” and turned to dust in the morning sunlight of the desert? The nightmares persist, and with Kyle’s phone dead, turned off, or completely out of range, nothing right now can hope to ease Elias’s mind.
By the second hour of travel, everyone has gone as quiet as Jeremy. Even the radio is playing soft rock at such a low volume that the guitars and singing sound like distant animal wailing. The ice has melted, and it’s just a useless bag of water Jeremy holds as he lies back in the seat, bored. Layna’s head rests on hisshoulder, forehead creased with worry.
When they’re in the homestretch, Jeremy is now squirming all over the place as a worried Layna rubs his back and keeps whimpering apologies at him. “Can we go faster?” she calls out. “I think he has to pee. Can guys even pee with an erection? I’m not a guy, I don’t know.” To which Elias says, “Going as fast as I can. Last thing we need is a cop pulling us over.” Cade keeps cradling her head in her hands, massaging away her stresses, whispering unintelligibly to herself.
“Jer, look,” says Layna a while later when they’re finally on the strip, driving slower through the Sunday afternoon traffic. “Didn’t you want to go to the M&M store? Jer, it has M&Meverything. They even have M&M shoelaces. And there’s that big wall of tubes of every color of M&M you can imagine …”
“Baby, I don’t think the firstorlast thing on his mind has anything to do withM&Ms,” says Cade from the front seat.
Layna frowns. “Don’t you think I know that? I’m trying to distract him.”
“Almost there,” says Elias gloomily.
Even during the daylight hours, the Scarlet Sands Hotel & Casino lurks like a moody shadow upon the otherwise sunny city full of life, noisy cars, and tourists. After parking, the four depart the vehicle, Jeremy grimacing with a thick hoodie tied around his waist in the front, Layna holding his hand with Cade walking close, and Elias begrudgingly leading the way.
And overhead, birds circle the skies, birds and birds and more birds. Elias notices. Cade notices. When Layna peers up, it’s perhaps now that her eyes finally reflect worry, and with no confidence at all, she shouts up at them, “Go away!”
The birds don’t listen, circling, circling.
The front of the Scarlet Sands Hotel & Casino is like the entrance of an exotic castle from a dark vampire fairytale, with dramatic stone statues framing the front doors underneath anenormous shaded awning. Inside, the ceilings are staggeringly high, and the lobby echoes with noises of distant slot machines and slinky, sinister music playing from some unseen club or gallery. Elias walks past the front desk where four leather-clad male and female clerks are busy checking guests in and out, their uniforms as tight and gaudy as the décor. They pass the large and impressive circular garden in the middle of the lobby where the way splits, one path leading to shops and stores, one to the restaurants and elevators, and the final one to the casino.
It’s toward the casino that Elias leads them. The moment they reach the archway leading in, a security officer steps forth to ask for ID, but as soon as the words fly out, he recognizes Elias. “Sorry, Mr. Elias, sir. Welcome back.” The four proceed into the casino, with a perplexed Cade glancing back at the officer no less than five times, then finally muttering, “Are you, like, a frequent gambler here or something? How do they know you?”
Elias doesn’t answer that.
As they head deeper into the casino, the atmosphere grows darker, louder, and more sinister, the game machines creating a dissonant and unsettling symphony of chimes and bells in their ears. Despite his distress, Jeremy’s eyes are wide with wonder as they pass through. Layna seems more guarded than before, her thrill of being here with her boyfriend considerably diminished. Cade murmurs, “I don’t like the look or feel of this place one bit.” Elias only responds: “Don’t worry. It’s all smoke and mirrors. Cigarette smoke and cheap mirrors.” “No, really,” she says back, “I don’t think we should be here. I don’t usually listen to my gut, but I’m picking up bad, bad vibes all around.” As they approach the back door of the casino guarded by two suited, unsmiling men, Cade’s pace slows. “Oh, hell no, Elias, we’re not messing with them. Where are we even going?”
Elias comes to a stop in front of them. “Joe. Rick.”
The men step aside without a word. Elias proceeds through the doors, a confused, wary-eyed Cade following behind, trailed by the teens. Now in a stark white stairwell—a vast departure from the atmosphere of the casino and hotel—the four head up a flight of stairs to a drab hallway, which leads to an elevator where Elias hits a button. The door slides open. Everyone steps in. Elias taps the top floor and a digital keypad above it lights up. He puts in a ten digit number. The interface dings, the doors slide shut.
“Seriously,” says Cade, “who the hell are you? I’m trusting you with my daughter and the police chief’s kid, I’ll remind you.”
“I’m just someone’s son.”
“Whose? Satan’s?”
“You’re not far off.”
