Page 47 - DivineSparkRising II-TheMirrorofSilenceFinal

Nicholas Boothman
The pressure deepened. A man lurched out of
the bar, eyes wide, staggered toward them and
dropped to his knees, mouthing the same phrase
over and over. Henry couldn’t read his lips. He
didn’t need to.
Please.
The mirrors around the door flared white. The
field peaked. Somewhere across the yard, a small
boy started to cry and no sound came—a scream in
a dream you could not hear.
“Carolina.”
“Now,” she mouthed.
She pulled a cable and jammed the analyzer’s
test leads into the door’s control board. The signal
bled into her device. On-screen: a spectral waterfall,
a waterfall made of silence. A shape lay hidden in
the troughs. She grabbed a mic and held it toward
the mirrors. The diaphragm didn’t move.
“Different approach,” she said, to herself more
than to him. With shaking fingers she switched the
analyzer into passive capture and hit record. The
file clock ticked up: 00:00:07… 00:00:08…
And just as they thought they would be crushed
by the weight of nothing, a sound arrived.
Not a song. A flaw.
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