Red Rain

57

“No, she didn’t,” Samuel told his brother. “No one escapes me. She’s as good as dead, boyo.”

He saw the panic on his brother’s face. He knew he had to be brave, put on a good front. Daniel had never encountered failure. It frightened Samuel to think how his twin might handle such disappointment.

Samuel could still hear her screams out in the street. He motioned with his head to the shoe. “Help me.”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, his face locked in horror. Then he wrapped his hands around the heel of the shoe-and pulled it out of his twin’s chest.

It slid out easily, making a sssllliick sound like pulling a spoon out of a jelly jar.

Daniel tossed the shoe across the floor. Then he smoothed down the front of Samuel’s T-shirt. “Afraid you’ve got a hole in your shirt, bruvver.”

Samuel jumped to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“Whistle while we work,” Daniel said. He whistled a short tune.

Daniel being Daniel.

They burst out through the screen door together. Jumped off the stoop. Samuel saw Daniel remove something from his jeans pocket and drop it beside the steps.

The morning sun was high over the shingled roofs of the little houses that lined the street. Houses not much bigger than cottages. Each with a trimmed square lawn. An SUV parked in the driveway.

Not a fancy Hamptons neighborhood, Samuel thought as they took off running in the direction of the shrill screams. This is where the workers live.

Saturday morning and everyone must be sleeping in, for there was not a person in sight. Oh, yes. A man in khaki shorts watering his flower garden with a hose in the next block. A small brown dog sniffing around him.

Samuel saw Autumn pounding frantically on the front door of a small brick house down the block. No one answered. She leaped off the front stoop and, screaming all the way, fled into a sandy, pebbly alley lined by wooden fences that snaked behind the houses.

“Nice of Autumn to scream like that and let us know where she is going,” said Daniel, trotting beside his brother, eyes straight ahead.

“She’s a nice girl.” Samuel’s earnest reply.

They caught up with her behind a stack of blue and yellow boogie boards tilting against a wood picket fence. The boards formed a low tent. Autumn probably thought she would be hidden by them.

They found her huddled behind the boards, her body hunched and shaking, her breath coming in loud wheezes.

Panting like a dog. Like a cornered dog.

Samuel set his eyes to glowing. He felt anger now and new dedication to the task. No hesitation.

Did she really think she could wound the Avenger? The Heater? Punish the Punisher?

“Please. . Oh, please. . please. .” She was begging now. Actually wringing her hands in front of her. She climbed to her feet. “Please?”

Samuel trained his gaze on the white skin of her tummy between the top and her low-riding shorts.

She shrieked in shock and agonizing pain as he cut a long line across the bottom of her stomach. Reflexively, Autumn grabbed at the deep opening in her skin and spread both hands over it.

But she couldn’t keep her insides from spilling out.

The twins watched in intent silence, as if watching a medical demonstration, as her intestines came sliding out over her hands and poured like long pink sausage links to the ground.

She made a hoarse choking sound, grabbing frantically at the waterfall of shiny wet organs spilling out. Spilling out of the deep slit across her belly. A gusher of pink and yellow sausage oozing through her fingers.

She choked and gagged until her eyes rolled up and her knees folded and she slumped face forward with a loud splaaat into the still-throbbing puddle of her insides.

The twins gazed down at her in solemn silence.

Samuel waited for his eyes to cool. Then he stepped back, let out a sigh, and called down to her, “Oh, poor Autumn. Lassie, where are those beautiful new shoes now?”

Daniel laughed and gave him a shove. “You’re a poet.” He stared down at the young dead woman. His smile faded. “You know, bruvver, we don’t have to worry about Pa now.”

That made Samuel laugh. “I think Pa is deep in trouble,” he said softly. “Come on, bruvver. Let’s find our way back to the Harbor of Sag.”

“A poet,” Daniel murmured. “My bruvver is a poet.”

It was a beautiful morning, just starting to warm up, the air so fragrant and fresh. White butterflies danced over a flowering hedge. A soft breeze tickled his skin and cooled Samuel’s hot face.

It made him think of the island. The ocean breezes over Cape Le Chat Noir. The simple life. Waves splashing as he and Daniel and Ikey ran along the cool, wet sand.

“I think the bus stop is over here,” he told Daniel. “It’s such a pretty day. I know we’re going to have a nice ride.”