Red Rain: A Novel (41 page)

He grasped her shoulders gently. “Take a breath. I’m listening. I won’t interrupt you. But you’re forgetting to breathe.”

She swallowed. Her chin trembled. More tears glistened in her eyes. “The priest brought the boys back, but he did it all wrong. There were so many deaths to deal with. He messed it up, Mark. He . . . he waited too long. The boys were dead too long. And when they came back, they had all of death’s evil in them. They looked the same. They seemed the same. They were alive again, but they were alive with evil.”

What am I going to do? I’ve got to get her to a hospital. I know some doctors who can treat this. I can make some calls.

“The twins came back to life with evil powers, Mark. Hypnotic powers and powers to kill. The priest brought them back from the world of the dead. But he made mistakes. He told Martha he made mistakes. The boys have been the same age since 1935. Martha says they lived by themselves all these years, waiting . . . waiting for someone to take them off the island so they could work their evil. And I . . . I was the one. I brought them both here. I brought them into our family, our lives, and, and . . . I’m the only one who can take them back.”

“Lea, stop. Please. Please stop. Let’s not talk about it anymore. How about that waffle cone? Would that make you feel better?”

Anything to make her stop talking this insane nonsense. Why didn’t I see that she was having a breakdown? How could I not have seen?

“No. It’s too late for ice cream now, honey. Look at the third photo. Martha sent a third photo. I knew what it would show. I mean, I had a strong feeling. But there it is. There’s my proof, Mark. I . . . I didn’t want to show it to you. I don’t want to leave. But I don’t have a choice.”

“You’re not leaving. You’re not going anywhere. Stop saying that. I love you. The kids love you. They need you. We won’t let you go anywhere.”

She pushed the papers. “Just look.”

The third photo was in color. It showed a strange-looking man in a red robe. He had a large blue tattoo on the top of his bald head. He had one long-fingered hand raised . . . raised over Lea. Yes. He was leaning over Lea, who sat in a chair with her eyes closed, head tilted back.

Mark raised his eyes to her. “What does this prove?”

“I died in Martha Swann’s house. Part of the roof came down in the hurricane. It landed on me, and I died. Martha and James—they knew where to find the priest. They risked their lives out in the storm. They brought him and he performed the
Revenir
rite on me. I came back, Mark. He brought me back. But I wasn’t the same. Much as I tried, I wasn’t the same. I’ve been obsessed . . . obsessed with death. I . . . don’t really feel as if I belong here.”

Her shoulders trembled. A sob racked her entire body. “If only I hadn’t brought the twins home, maybe we could have gotten along for a while. Maybe I could have pretended. But . . . I ruined our lives. If only . . .” Her voice trailed off and she grabbed him and pulled his arms around her and pressed her tear-drenched face against his chest.

He held her tight. The photos fluttered across the pier. He wanted to wrap her up and keep her safe. He knew she could be okay again. Of course she could. The island hurricane had been a terrible trauma. So much horror—it could affect
anyone,
especially someone as sensitive as Lea.

Her head pressed against him, he saw the twins over her shoulder. He saw them walk past the old colonial windmill near the street and come toward them, down the center of the pier.

Lea turned, as if sensing they were approaching.

The boys strode rapidly side by side, past the Dock House, past the rows of parked cars on both sides, their eyes straight ahead on Mark and Lea. Mark felt Lea shudder.

As the twins drew close, he called to them. “How did you get here? What are you doing here?”

Daniel’s answer came back in his high little-boy’s voice. “We came to hurt you.”

M
ark studied their faces. Hard, jaws set tight, eyes like frozen blue ponds.

If they were twelve in 1935, they’d be nearly ninety years old.

Ridiculous
.

“Come here, boys.” Lea stepped in front of Mark and stretched out her arms. “Come here. How did you find us?”

They hung back. “We saw you at the school, Mum. We followed you here. Pa tried to hurt us. Now we need to hurt Pa.”

Both boys had dark bruises on the sides of their faces.

“Pa did a bad thing,” Samuel said.

“Now, wait—” Mark’s breath caught in his throat. “Let’s put a stop to this right now. Answer me. What did you think you were doing in that school?”

They ignored him, eyes on Lea. “Pa did a bad thing,” Daniel said.

“A bad thing,” Samuel repeated. “Pa hurt us. We were ruling the school. But Pa ruined everything.”

Mark felt his face grow hot. “Stop saying that. I . . . had to stop you.”

“Mark had no choice,” Lea told them. She stretched out her arms again. “Come here. I know how hard it’s been for you boys.
I know the whole story. Please—come to me. Let me give you a big hug.”

“We can’t have a hug, Mum,” Daniel replied, almost sadly. “We have to hurt Pa now.” He turned to Samuel. “Are you ready, Sammy lad?”

Mark uttered a sharp cry when he saw Samuel’s eyes blaze.

“Move away, Mum,” Daniel warned.

“No. Stop,” Lea protested. “Listen to me, boys. We need to talk. The three of us have to stick together now.”

“Move away, Mum. We don’t want to put the burn on you, too.”

The fiery glow of the boy’s eyes was so bright, it brought tears to Mark’s eyes. Samuel swung his head around, and a blast of heat grazed Mark’s chest.

In that second, Mark’s questions were answered, and he knew that Lea was telling the truth. He understood how the murders had been done. He understood that the twins had murdered, scorched and murdered. And now he felt the searing heat from Samuel’s eyes burn his chest.

They’re going to kill me now.

He lowered his head and took off.

“Samuel—stop it!”

He heard Lea’s frightened plea over the pounding thuds of his shoes on the asphalt pier. He didn’t turn around.

A blazing burst of pain exploded on his back. He heard his shirt sizzle and felt his skin erupt in a circle of fire. Mark dropped to his knees and rolled toward the row of parked cars across the pier. Slid between two cars as another scorching beam cut the air. The blue Honda beside him burst into flames.

With a cry, Mark jumped to his feet. Gasping from the pain that radiated over his back, he stumbled toward the tiny shingled Dock House. When he ducked under another red ray of fire, it sailed over his head and died in the water beyond the pier.

Lea’s shrill screams . . . Daniel’s shouted instructions to Samuel . . . the boys’ pattering footsteps as they pursued him—all became a blur of sound beneath the bass-drum pounding in his chest.

Where am I running? How can I escape them?

He couldn’t think straight. No time to make a plan. The terrifying beam from Samuel’s eyes could barbecue him in seconds. And as that thought raced through his mind, he also realized that Lea was probably telling the truth about herself. And that he could lose her.

Lose her. Oh no. Oh no. Lose her.

A hoarse cry escaped his throat as he started to heave himself through the open door of the food shack. He thought better of it. Wheeled around and ran crazily, off-balance, in a wild stagger, and stumbled to the far side of the little building—just as it burst into flames.

He heard shrieks of horror, turned, and saw three or four workers run out, pushing each other as they fell through the doorway, crying and shouting their shock and horror. The long apron on a young red-headed woman was on fire. She struggled with the straps, then dropped to the ground on her belly, trying to smother the flames.

A second explosion sent flames shooting off the low, flat roof. Mark glanced back. The twins were ambling toward him, not even bothering to hurry. So relaxed and confident. And why not? Mark was helpless against the boy’s unnatural weapon. Helpless against the evil magic Lea had warned him about. Sure, he could run. But where? He couldn’t escape. And he couldn’t turn and face them down.

Over the crackle of the flames, he heard shouts. People came running out of the waffle cone shop and from the restaurant at the end of the pier. He didn’t have long to watch them. Another scorching stab of pain caught him in the back of the leg, hobbling him. Forcing him to his knees.

This is it. It’s over.

A sharp stab in his right shoulder and the skin split open. He felt the burn run down his arm. With a scream of horror and pain, his leg throbbing and aching, he lurched to the edge of the pier. Swung his body around—and glanced to the water.

Will I be safe in the water?

He gripped the low, white metal railing at the edge of the pier.
His right arm throbbed. He could barely hold on, but he started to lower his body toward the rolling water. Glancing back, he saw Daniel’s intense stare and the pulsing red eyes of his twin as they made their steady way toward him.

A powerful heat blast bounced off the metal railing, shook the rail, and made a
craack
like a lightning bolt. Another shot sent an explosion of heat over the top of Mark’s head.

He glimpsed the dark water below. He took a deep breath and prepared to loosen his hold on the rail.

And then stopped.

He gripped the rail tight and stared across the pier as Lea caught up to the boys. They had all their attention on Mark. Daniel was pushing his brother forward, moving them in for the final burn. They didn’t see Lea come up behind them.

Ignoring his pain, Mark hung on the rail and watched Lea move up behind the boys. She stretched out her arms as if to tackle them both. Instead, she wrapped her arms around them, pulled them into a tight hug from behind.

They struggled to free themselves. The three of them moved in an awkward dance, held together in Lea’s tight embrace.

As she wrestled with them, she called to him. “Good-bye, Mark. Good-bye, darling. It’s the only way. I have to take them back.”

“Lea, no!”

Gripping the rail, he watched helplessly as Lea spread her hand over Samuel’s blond hair—and turned his face to her. Turned his burning eyes on her.

Took the beam of fire. Turned it on herself.

Mark couldn’t stop the howl of horror that burst from his throat. Working his legs against the pier wall, he struggled to pull himself up. To get to her. To reach her in time.

But no.

Lea burst into flames that consumed her instantly, rising like candlefire, straight, without a flicker. She didn’t move or struggle or make a sound. The boys squirmed and thrashed. But even as she burned, Lea held them close, pressed them to her. And the fire swallowed them, too.

Unable to breathe or cry out, Mark watched all three of them in the fire, statues in a dark embrace, then ash, crumbling ash, a sinking pile of ash inside the single tall flame.

Then gone.

Gone, and the fire vanished with them, leaving the asphalt unmarked.

Mark felt hands grip his arms. Saw faces above him. People tugging him up from the pier side. He heard screams and cries. Sirens approaching. Smoke swept over him from the still-flaming Dock House. People came running onto the pier, faces tight with alarm. Seagulls screamed in the sky.

He let it all fade to the back of his mind. He pictured Lea. Her smile. Her bright, dark eyes.

Gone. Lea was gone.

As he stared, the fire that had consumed her went out with an almost-silent
husssssh.

M
ark found Roz in the flower bed at the side of the guesthouse. She was on the grass, digging with a trowel in a square of black dirt. Axl, in red shorts and a sleeveless red T-shirt, sat nearby in a clump of freshly planted petunias, stabbing at the ground with a plastic shovel in imitation of his mother.

Roz looked up and brushed a bee away from her shoulder. “Who was that on the phone?”

Mark hunkered down beside her. He liked the smell of the fresh dirt. Like rich coffee. “Sergeant Pavano. You remember. The cop.”

Roz nodded. “Of course I remember him. What did he want? To arrest you for some other murder you didn’t do?”

Mark snickered. “Don’t be bitter. He had no choice really.”

“Of course he did. And I’ll be as bitter as I want. He was a total idiot.”

“Not total,” Mark said. “Don’t forget. He was brave. He tried to rescue Ira and Elena and the other kids. He went in before anyone.”

She shoved the trowel into the dirt. “So what did the big hero want?”

“Actually, I think he called to apologize for the way the police
treated me. But he never got around to it. He just asked how everyone is doing. You know. With Lea gone.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said Ira and Elena hadn’t really accepted it yet. But they were doing the best they could. What else could I say?”

Roz sighed in reply.

Mark twisted his face in a frown. “Pavano says he’s going back to New York City. He said the city is a lot safer than out here.”

Roz concentrated on the trowel. “Maybe he’s right.”

“Look this. Look this.” Axl called to them, holding up his yellow shovel.

They turned to see what the little guy was staring down at. Mark saw two fat brown insects in the scoop of the shovel. “Those are called beetles,” he said.

Axl held the shovel close to his face. His dark eyes studied the two bugs. “Look what Sammy teached me. Sammy teached me this.”

Roz’s mouth dropped open. “What? What about Sammy?”

“Sammy teached Monkey Boy.”

Mark felt his heart skip a beat as Axl’s eyes flared. In a few seconds, they were fiery red. Axl lowered his glowing gaze to the shovel, and all three of them watched as the beetles sizzled and burned.

First, I need to thank Stacy Creamer, whose excitement and enthusiasm for this novel gave me the courage to venture through the red rain and complete what was a very ambitious project for me. I’m so appreciative of her support.