“Make them leave us alone!” Mr. White shouted, his voice cracking, desperate.
As if anyone but Hugh could do that—if he was still alive.
“I’ll make you another offer,” said Bekhir, pulling himself to his feet using the window bars, his hobbled silhouette outlined against the dark glass. “Put down your guns or I open this window.”
Mr. White spun to face him. “Even a Gypsy wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that.”
“You think too highly of us,” Bekhir said, sliding his fingers toward the handle.
The soldiers raised their rifles.
“Go ahead,” said Bekhir. “Shoot.”
“Don’t, you’ll break the glass!” Mr. White shouted. “Grab him!”
Two soldiers threw down their rifles and lunged at Bekhir, but not before he punched his fist through the glass.
The entire window shattered. Bees flushed into the room. Chaos erupted—screams, gunfire, shoving—though I could hardly hear it over the roar of the insects, which seemed to fill not just my ears but every pore of my body.
People were climbing over one another to get out. To my right I saw Bronwyn push Olive to the floor and cover her with her body. Emma shouted “Get down!” and we ducked for cover as bees tumbled over our skin, our hair. I waited to die, for the bees to cover every exposed inch of me in stings that would shut down my nervous system.
Someone kicked open the door. Light blasted in. A dozen boots thundered across the floorboards.
It got quiet. I slowly uncovered my head.
The bees were gone. So were the soldiers.
Then, from outside, a chorus of panicked screams. I jumped up and rushed to the shattered window, where a knot of Gypsies and peculiars were already gathered, peering out.
At first I didn’t see the soldiers at all—just a giant, swirling mass of insects, so dense it was opaque, about fifty feet down the footpath.
The screams were coming from inside it.
Then, one by one, the screamers fell silent. When it was all over, the cloud of bees began to spread and scatter, unveiling the bodies of Mr. White and his men. They lay clustered in the low grass, dead or nearly so.
Twenty seconds later, their killers were gone, their monstrous hum fading as they settled back into the fields. In their wake fell a strange and bucolic calm, as if it were just another summer day, and nothing out of the
