Near the front of the tent, Rick looked over his shoulder. His gaze landed on Jael, and he scowled, obviously thinking.
Speaking of rats.
Hitch caught Jael’s elbow. “Earl shouldn’t be standing around here with that arm. Why don’t you see if maybe the doc made it out here yet to treat casualties?”
She nodded, her face pinched and white. She turned to guide Earl out.
Earl stood fast. “The arm’ll wait. I’m here, so I’ll stay and hear the rest of it.”
The thickhead. Hitch glared at him.
Earl glared back, then finally got it. “Ah, right.” He faked a wince. “Ow! Yeah, I need a doctor. Pain’s kicking like a horse.”
Hitch patted Earl’s shoulder. “Hang in there, old buddy. You’ll make it.”
They turned to go, Jael with one hand on Earl’s back and the other supporting his good elbow. She looked at Hitch and inclined her head in a thank-you.
Folks in the tent were back to yelling.
Toward the front of the crowd, J.W. brandished his battered hat. Even in the shadows, the sunburn atop his bald head flashed. “Now, listen here! I don’t hold with turning over no innocent person.”
“Stealing a pendant ain’t exactly innocent,” Campbell said.
“Stole it from a man who’s trying to kidnap an entire town! I don’t know about the rest of you all, but I ain’t taking the word of no man like that.”
Hitch opened his mouth to back him up. Out of the pay or fight options, fight was looking a little better all the time. But then he saw Rick again and snapped his mouth shut. The less attention he drew to himself right now, the better. The last thing folks here needed to be remembering was his new wing walker and her strange way of talking.
Across from J.W., on the other side of the tent, Matthew caught Hitch’s eye. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, maybe realizing Hitch’s conundrum. The Berringer boys, at any rate, wouldn’t have a hard time figuring out where Jael had come from.
Matthew faced Campbell. “How do we know this man Zlo will honor his agreement even if we pay his ransom?” His calm voice carried all the way through the tent.
“We don’t!” J.W. hollered. “And the rest of you, including you”—he poked a finger toward Matthew—“and you”—a second poke, at Campbell—“can pay this ransom if you’re fool enough to. But I ain’t giving one red cent into that crook’s sweaty palm. Put a shotgun in my hand and I’ll shoot the goldurn thing out of the sky before I’ll pay for the privilege of living on my own farm!”
The whole place erupted—half the people shaking their hats and roaring in agreement, the other half shouting in dismay. J.W. kept right on yelling, even though nobody could hear him anymore. His face went even redder than his sunburn, and he jabbed his finger in his neighbor’s face like he was about to start swinging punches.
Livingstone stepped forward, both arms extended. Except for the spattered mud up past his boots onto the knees of his jodhpurs, his white suit was still immaculate.
“Good people!” he shouted. “This is not a time to panic! This is a time for iron nerves, steely resolve, and steadfast action. Believe me when I tell you, you are not alone in this battle.”
That got some of the folks—if not J.W.—to quiet down a bit.
“I regret that the simple joys of the airshow I intended for your pleasure should have been destroyed by so heinous a disaster. But I am glad that I and my stalwart pilots are here in your moment of need!”
That shut up even J.W.
“Now, listen.” Livingstone hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. “In the face of this crisis, we must abandon the frivolous pursuits of showmanship.”
Hitch almost rolled his eyes. For Livingstone, the show always went on.
“Instead, we will combine our skills and the horsepower of our many flying machines. We will face down this threat from above. We will not be content to sit on our laurels and wait for the enemy to come to us. No, sir! We will hunt down this sky beast.”
The crowd started murmuring again, but this time they were calmer, maybe even a little hopeful.
“And to show the sincerity of my intent,” Livingstone said, “I will personally dedicate the entire purse from our competition as an incentive for the man who finds the beast.”
Everybody started cheering and clapping.
What was that old buzzard up to? Hitch frowned.
Before he could think on it too long, Aurelia pushed her way through the crowd, both hands held straight out. In front of whatever Campbell and Livingstone were standing on, she stopped and turned around. She hugged her violet scarf around her elbows. Her eyes were wide open and a little wild. The pale red-blonde of her hair fell out of the bun at her nape and wisped around her face. She started murmuring, too low to hear from the back of the tent.
Campbell and Livingstone exchanged a look, and Campbell leaned down, a hand on her shoulder to try to ease her away.
“No!” She slapped at his hand, then faced forward again. “I knew it was coming. I knew it was coming to get us all. I told you!” She looked around, maybe trying to find somebody she actually had told. “I told Walter…” Her voice trailed out again.
Hitch frowned. Somebody needed to go up there and fetch her before she started in on one of her fits. He looked around for Nan, came up empty, and started pushing forward himself.
“Come along, Miss Aurelia,” Campbell said. “You’re perfectly safe. You have my word.”
“Your word can’t change anything.” She looked over her other shoulder at Livingstone. “Neither can yours!”
“Aurelia!” Nan’s panicked voice cut through the tent. She sidled along the edge, headed toward the front, her mouth pinched. “Aurelia, that’s enough!”
Aurelia didn’t even glance at her sister. “It is coming to get you all, because you are all crazy.” She tilted her nose. “I know because that man Zlo said it to me, back before the first storm. He was down here on the ground then, and he told me. Not any of the rest of you, just me.”
“Aurelia!” Nan pushed through the last row of people and caught Aurelia’s elbow. Her face was harried, her eyebrows drawn down in a deep V. “Stop this nonsense, dear. You must come along.”
“I tried to warn you!” Aurelia’s voice rose into a screech. “I told you! I told Walter, I told Byron, I told the postman!” The screech deepened into a frantic sob. “But none of you listened to me.”
Nan hauled Aurelia away.
Dead silence held the crowd for two full seconds. Then pandemonium erupted.
A chill, like the fingertip of a ghost, touched the back of Hitch’s neck. Aurelia was more than one egg short of a dozen, everybody knew that. But she wasn’t a liar any more than Lilla was Madame Curie. What was it she had told him back at the hospital after Jael had been knocked out by the lightning? Now that there had been one storm, there would be two?
Maybe she had been trying to warn him. He’d said he believed her—and then brushed off the whole thing.
He filled his lungs and turned to go. He needed to get out of here, get his prop patched up, find a way to pay Earl’s doctor bill, and then keep Jael under wraps until they could figure out how to knock Zlo out of the sky for good.
He ducked back outside into the drizzle and made his way over to where his Jenny was still tied to J.W.’s back bumper.
“Son! Hold up a minute, won’t you?”
He looked up from the knot in the rope.
Livingstone walked over, mincing steps to avoid puddles. Behind him, people filtered out of the tent.
“You heard what was said in there, I guess?” Livingstone asked.