The buzzing got louder and louder, all but consuming his mind. Farmer's face loomed into focus, his expression contemptuous as his fingers brushed the chain at Ethan's neck.
Realizing what he intended, Ethan reached up, trying to stop him from wrenching the cross free. But his strength had slithered away.
The smell of burning flesh briefly stung the air, followed by a sharp curse. Then the warmth of the cross was gone. A second later, it hit the floor with a gentle ting.
The night blurred, and he found himself on the floor, his body shuddering with blows he couldn't even feel. He scraped his hand across the tiles, trying to find the cross.
Tried to reach for Shirley, to warn her not to come after him, but that only made the bees react in fury. After a while, he stopped trying to do either.
Yet it seemed an extraordinarily long time before the night became a smudge of
blackness and consciousness receded.
****
