“No. Oh no.” Lea covered her face with her hands. She turned to James and Martha, expecting them to be close, but she saw them across the road, helping to pull someone out from under an overturned car.
“No. No. No.”
She stepped onto the fallen front door. It sank into the wet ground. She caught her balance and started to shout. “Macaw? Pierre? Are you here? Can you hear me?”
Boards cracked and settled. A window casing toppled onto its side. Lea screamed and jumped back, thinking the house might fall on her.
“Macaw? Pierre?”
No answer. They must have gotten out safely before the house fell in.
But what was that splash of red from under a fallen slab of wall? A scarf?
Stepping carefully, Lea made her way onto the pile of debris and climbed closer. She stopped with a gasp when she saw the hand lying so flat. . the hand, smeared with dark blood, reaching out from under a wall board. . the hand open as if waving. . waving good-bye?
Lea’s stomach churned. She fought the sour taste rising to her mouth. “Macaw?”
She stumbled forward, grabbed the side of a wall, and hoisted herself higher on the pile. “Oh no. No.” The splash of red was the sleeve of a dress.
Forgetting safety, Lea dove toward it. She slipped on a broken board. Banged her knee on something sharp. Ignoring the pain, she climbed to the red sleeve. She could see more of the dress beneath the edge of the wall board.
“Macaw?” Her voice trembling and tiny. “No. Oh no. Macaw?”
She stared at the pale hand, on its back, like a dead bird.
Macaw was trapped beneath a slab of wall board. Lea’s stomach lurched again. She could feel the cold fear prickling her skin. She didn’t think. She grabbed the top corner of the slab-and pulled. Hoisted it up.
It slid more easily than she had imagined. She almost toppled over backward.
She raised the wall board. Gazed down. Down at Macaw’s lifeless face. At the puncture. . the puncture. . the blood-smeared puncture in her eye.
Lea gasped. She opened her mouth to scream, but couldn’t make a sound.
The nail at the corner of the board-the rusted eight-inch nail, fatter than a pencil. . Lea stared at the nail, then down to the blood-caked puncture in the dead woman’s eye socket.
And she knew. She knew that when the wall fell in, the nail had been driven into Macaw’s eye. . eight inches. . driven through her eye and into her brain.
15
Lea felt a sharp stab of pain in her right eye. She uttered a cry and pressed a hand over both eyes. Sympathy pain. It happened every time Ira or Elena hurt themselves.
The wall board fell from her hand and smacked the tumble of boards at her feet. The pile rumbled and slid beneath her. Eyes still covered, she struggled to keep her balance. Waited for the pain to fade.
A dog howled. She heard shrill, alarmed voices behind her.
“Do you live in the village?”
“The village is no more.”
Dazed, Lea wandered away from the voices. No way to escape. She could go only as far as the beach. And even there, the moans and howls of stricken people mingled with the crash of the waves. The beach was littered with death, a long line of dead starfish.
And then the red raindrops came down, soft at first, then in curtains like a waterfall of blood. The blood of the hurricane victims raining down, although there were no clouds in the sky.
And the twin angels emerged from the red rain. Two identical blond boys, so frail and thin, with glowing blue eyes, sad eyes. They walked over the rain-spattered sand toward Lea, seemingly oblivious of the red drops falling around them.
“Can I help you?” she called.
They didn’t answer. They stopped and lowered their heads. They stood there perfectly still, blond hair gleaming so brightly as if the rain hadn’t touched it. Their thin bodies appeared to tremble.
She took a step toward them, sandals sinking in the sand. “Are you cold? The rain. Where are your shirts?”
“It’s all gone, mum,” one of them said. He raised his blue eyes to her.
“Gone?”
The rain pattered more gently. The red curtains dissolved into raindrops. The world brightened to a yellow- gray glare. She wiped rain off her forehead.
“Our house is gone, mum,” the boy said. He had a high-pitched voice, more like a five-year-old.
“Where do you live?”
He shrugged his slender shoulders. “Nowhere now.”
His twin let out a sigh. He kicked a wet clump of sand with a bare foot.
“You mean-?”
“It’s all gone, mum. All of it.”
Lea was staring at them so intently, she hadn’t realized the rain had stopped. She swept her hands back, squeezing red water from her hair. Behind her, she could hear excited voices. Alarmed voices. People shouting about the blood rain.
“What’s your name?”
“Daniel, mum. This is my bruvver Samuel.”
Samuel nodded but didn’t speak.
Lea wanted to hug them. Wrap them both in her arms. Tell them everything would be okay.
“Can I help you? I mean, are you lost? Can I take you to your house?”
Daniel shook his head. “We don’t have a house anymore,” he said in an even tinier voice.
His brother sighed again. His blue eyes were watery, but his face revealed no emotion at all.
“Where are your parents?”
“Gone, mum.”
“Gone? Do you mean-?”
“Dead, mum. In the storm, don’t you know. We lost them.”
“Oh my God.”
What could she say? Trembling in their baggy little shorts, they looked so small and frail and frightened. Again, she felt the powerful urge to wrap her arms around them and hug them. Protect them from this whole nightmare.
But of course that was impossible. She couldn’t protect
“Is there someone else in your family? Aunts and uncles? Your grandparents?”
They shook their heads.
“No one,” Daniel said. His twin still hadn’t spoken. “It’s just us now, mum.”
Lea spun around. Where were James and Martha? She couldn’t see them from the beach.
Waves crashed against the shore. An upside-down canoe was carried onto the sand and tumbled to a stop against a steep sand hill. Seagulls soared low, chattering loudly.
“I’ll take you to your house. You can get some clothes,” Lea said.
