Secrets of Harmony Grove by Mindy Starns Clark

was in no danger myself.
    Moments later, Floyd’s moans and murmurs began to sound more like words. Leaning forward, I tried to hear what he was saying, but it took a few tries before I thought I understood.
    “That creature, what was it?”
    Gingerly, I reached out a hand, put it on his shoulder, and gave him a gentle shake.
    “Floyd? It’s Sienna. Sienna Collins. Can you hear me?”
    I wasn’t sure if he could or not. His eyes didn’t open, and he just kept saying something about a creature. Then he added something new to the mix, blurting out more clearly, “What was that sound? What was it?”
    In my mind, I could hear Troy from earlier, on the phone with me:
I’ve never heard a sound like that before. Is it a machine? An animal?
    “What was the sound, Floyd? Did it sound kind of like a machine? Was it a hum?”
    He didn’t answer so I shook him again.
    “Floyd! It’s me. Sienna. What did it sound like?”
    That time, he opened his eyes, though obviously with great effort.
    “Sienna?”
    “Yes. I’m here. An ambulance is on its way.”
    “Am I dead?” he asked, again closing his eyes.
    “No, you’re still alive. Are you hurt?”
    Mumbling, and then, “I don’t know.”
    “You don’t know if you’re hurt?”
    “I don’t remember.”
    I spoke into the phone, explaining what was happening and asking what could possibly be taking so long.
    “It feels longer than it is,” the dispatch guy replied. “You should be hearing sirens any second now.”
    Frustrated and afraid, I turned my attention back to the man who still lay on the ground in front of me. Unlike Troy, whose hair and clothing were soaking wet, Floyd’s body was completely dry. I also didn’t see any signs of blood, though of course he was lying facedown, so he could have had an injury in the front.
    “What happened here, Floyd? Did you shoot Troy?”
    “No. Troy’s dead.”
    “I know, but how? What killed him?”
    Floyd simply moaned, so I tried a different approach.
    “Floyd? Can you tell me about the sound you heard? What was it like?” Thinking of my call with Troy, I added, “Did it sound like a hum?”
    “Lower,” Floyd rasped. “More like rumbling.”
    I swallowed hard, remembering Troy’s words:
I can almost feel it more than hear it. Sort of a rumble, you know?
    He opened and eyes and stirred a bit more, as if trying to look around. But the effort was too much for him, and after a moment he seemed to pass out again, his face landing flat against the cement.
    “Floyd,” I said, shaking his shoulder and trying to wake him up. “Come on, man. Hang in there.”
    Again, his breathing sounded off, and for a moment I feared he had stopped completely. But then out of the blue he sucked in a great gasp of air and spoke.
    “The creature…breathed fire…just like a dragon.”
    “Fire?”
    “But it wasn’t a dragon. I don’t know…what it was. It was big…and black and shot out a burst of fire.”
    I stared at the pale, puffy lids of his closed eyes, trying to make sense of his words. They were slurred and slow to come out, but his tone was adamant.
    “Floyd, why were you out here? How did Troy end up in the pool?”
    “I heard a scream. I was in the kitchen and a woman screamed, so I grabbed the gun and…came out.”
    I waited for him to go on, but he did not.
    “A woman? What woman? Where is she?” I demanded, wondering if those had been her prints leading from Troy’s body. “Who was it, Floyd? Who screamed?”
    “Nina. It was Nina.”
    I sat back on my heels, worried now for yet another person. Nina lived across the street in the little cluster of houses that ran along the main road. A friend of our family for many years, she was also the part-time aide and caretaker for Uncle Emory.
    “Where is she now? I don’t see her. Are you sure she was here?”
    “The creature musta got her. Carried her off.”
    Heart pounding, I stood and turned in a slow circle, peering into the darkness along the fence,