Free Red Rain: A Novel by R. L. Stine Page B

through her eye and into her brain.

15
    L ea 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.
    “Mes enfants? Avez-vous vu mes enfants?”
    “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.
    As if the stars of heaven had fallen to the sand.
    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’re so beautiful. So beautiful and sad.
    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. They have to be ten or twelve, Lea thought.
    “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. My heart is breaking for them. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this strange emotion.
    “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.
    Is he in shock? she wondered.
    “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.”
    We lost them. What a grown-up way to say it. Not childlike at all.
    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 herself from the nightmare. Once again she saw Macaw’s dead face with the nail puncture through her splattered eyeball.
    “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