Willa watched, bewildered, as the crowd cheered her arrival to the microphone. She’d been led there by her childhood idol, the former prime minister, who graciously introduced the young prodigy before taking her seat. But Willa saw the disturbing expression on the aged diplomat’s face; disbelief and horror.
A living nightmare had won the reigns of government and was now sitting twelve feet from her. Not since The Great Revolution, 200 years ago, had his party even seen power. But bankrupt farmers and unemployed miners were transfixed by his charisma and pulled him across the line.
Willa was here to serenade his triumph with a bastardized, twisted rendition of the ‘74 resistance theme. It was another transfiguring of a former symbol of freedom into one championing hate. Now, she was its Pied Piper.
Running her fingers across the large, white pearls tight about her neck, Willa drew strength and raised her flute. She played from pained passion that couldn’t be rehearsed; a “drunk driver” injuring her father after her second declination to perform; her mother’s weary words, “He’s old. You’ll outlive him.”; the vulnerable, blue eyes of her one-year-old, who clutched her wedding ring and cooed as she said goodbye.
Willa cried freely and played beautifully. The enthralled audience, donning garb promoting violence against everyone, showered her in praise when she caught the new prime minster’s reflection in the bulletproof glass. He was staring at her with a sneer of possessive pride. Horror, spider-crawled up her back.
When the last bar arrived, the prodigy added a final note: a third octave C. Unplayable by most, she held it and snapped around to show the man her true intentions. His sneer disappeared. He signaled security just as Willa felt the glass canister inside her flute shatter. She pulled the flute away and directed its coming blast at her neck, with the prime minister behind her.
The explosion blasted the fake pearls into a hundred shrapnel balls that shot a cone of damage, hitting the prime minister and sending his jaw flung back five rows just as the body of the prodigy flopped to a slump at the front.