'What are they?' Diane asked in a hushed voice, her body still half turned towards the door. Neither of them could see the smile on Eva's face.
'I'm not sure,' Rivers told her, 'but I think they're help.'
Rain washed the blood from Mama Pitie's face and body, but it could not stem the flow. She knew she was dying, and the incomprehension in her eyes was for the lights that approached in the stormy night sky. She could not understand their presence and she could not understand the light that shone from the boy himself, not a visible radiation but an inner glow that came from his very soul. She blinked as raindrops struck her eyeballs and her vision was unclear, her sight blurred, but there seemed to be others with him now, hundreds, thousands, of children and somehow they were part of the light that shone from within him and part of the lights that were arriving above to cluster over this place where Mother Earth Herself had sent her to carry out her duty to Her, to do Her will, to erase the evil that opposed…
Mama Pitie stumbled, almost collapsing to the ground. She had to reach him, had to hold the boy in her arms, had to crush the life from him so that Mother Earth could reign in Her true glory…
She was in shock and she was dying, but the pain meant little and her life even less. She would shake the boy until his bones broke and his neck snapped. A few more feet, a few more moments, and then she would claim him.
Fresh hatred welled inside Mama Pitie and its strength carried her forward…
The lights were drawing closer, converging, becoming more brilliant, their reflections playing as patterns in the drizzling rain, their movement smooth and swift. The light outside the broken window continued to rise and Rivers, Diane and Eva watched its unwavering ascent; the strengthening winds failed to deflect it from its course as it rose into the sky, soon to become a tiny pinpoint of light that might have been a distant fiery planet in the solar system if the rolling clouds could not be seen above. The other stars resolutely moved towards it and within seconds the first few had joined the single light, merging with it, followed by others, growing into a fulgurating body that swelled ever more as other lights fused with its mass, illuminating the sky, the clouds, bathing the landscape below with its white radiance.
Eva clapped her hands together with excitement, her face caught in the incandescent glow. Diane moaned quietly as if in rapture and Rivers felt its brilliance wash through him, the tiredness and the aching leaving him as if routed by some sublime energy.
It became stronger, pulsating there in the sky like a freshly bom sun, a vibrant union of infinite power.
And then it began to contract, to condense itself, the light becoming too fierce to look upon. Its movement was so quick and so sudden it was almost an implosion, and within moments it was gone.
Diane groaned with disappointment and Rivers shook his head in dismay. But the children laughed, for they felt something inside them-something that might have been their spirit, their life's essence itself-expand and become firm, become strong. It filled them with elation.
But Josh was unaware of Mama Pitie, the Witch Lady of his dream, only a few steps away.
'Oh my God.'
Rivers turned sharply to Diane, who had uttered the words. She was looking straight ahead, beyond the old stables opposite, and now he saw it too, the cyclone, that had been nothing more than a moving bluish tower in the distance before. It was approaching fast, cutting its deadly swathe through the countryside, coming directly towards Hazelrod.
He drew Diane and Eva away from the window and pushed them down on to the floor, yelling at them to stay there as he made for the door. Diane protested but he was already gone, slamming open the window on the landing as he went by so that pressure inside the house would be relatively equal to that outside. It would have been better if he could have opened all the windows and doors, but there was no time, he had to get to Josh and bring him inside before the cyclone reached them. Even then he didn't know how safe they would be, how well Hazelrod's old walls would stand up to the storm. The noise of the rushing wind was tremendous, building to a terrifying crescendo. And then the noise stopped.
He burst through the open front door and pulled himself up as he reached the porch door, grabbing on to its frame to steady himself.
He could hardly believe his eyes.
A soft blue light, almost fluorescent in quality, bathed an area of the courtyard and within its undulating circle, everything was still, everything was quiet. He could see the bespectacled man, his shirt and trousers sodden, standing by the car; he could see the huge, bent shape of the woman called Mama Pitie; and he could see Josh standing before her, his small body looking even tinier against her massive bulk. But he could see nothing beyond the pale blue curved wall of the cyclone's eye.
It was as if someone had clapped their hands over his ears for there was hardly a sound, not even the faint scream of the storm itself. The porch around him was trembling and he noticed little showers of dust were falling from between the brickwork of the walls behind him. The old toy pram creaked and one of the small bicycles clattered to the floor. The inside door shook on its hinges.
'Oh shit,' Rivers said under his breath as he stepped out into this unearthly realm.
He walked to the boy, his footsteps steady but sounding distant, muffled, as if he were underwater; the cobblestones glistened blue. He avoided the sagging figure of the woman and she watched him with sad baleful eyes. She slumped to her knees, a hand still outstretched to touch the boy. It wavered inches away from Josh's face. Finally the effort was too great and her hand dropped to her side, blood drooling from her broken fingers and making a puddle.
The man, the one whose braces were now purple under the eerie light, opened his mouth, but Rivers could not hear what he called, the sound smothered by pressure inside the circle. He seemed transfixed, one hand still on the car door, and his jaw continued to move as he shouted towards Rivers.
Rivers ignored him. As if in slow motion, he swung the boy up into his arms, then took a moment to look up into the vortex. The smooth wall comprised opaque rings which undulated gently, creating a ripple effect that ran upwards and out of view, the whole of it swaying to and fro. He could see that the upper reaches were partially filled by a blue-grey mist, and inside that mist, a soft light glimmered. He knew that light.
He looked away and walked back towards the house, not speaking to Josh, afraid the strange spell would be broken if he uttered a sound. The boy was quiet too.
As they passed her, Mama Pitie fell forward, her hands holding her there on her knees, while her life's blood drained in a constant stream.
The air was difficult to breathe and his lungs heaved with the exertion; he felt Josh's chest labouring against his own. Almost there now, almost at the porch steps. A few feet to go. Relief began to creep into him.
But with only three more strides to take, the cyclone began to move. It closed in on itself with a grinding shriek of rushing wind, snapping up both man and car at its outer edge and shrinking inwards with great speed. The huge bulk that was Mama Pitie was lifted into the air and her dying screech mingled with the screaming of the wind. She was gone in a split second, thrust into the howling storm, her great black body lost in the furious night.
Rivers lingered not a moment longer. He threw himself and Josh through into the open doorway and into the hall beyond.
33
The rain ceased shortly after the sun appeared over the horizon. The wind had eased and finally stopped some hours before.
Josh and Eva stood in Hazelrod's doorway. Hand in hand, they stepped out.
Only a few broken timbers remained of the porch and they carefully trod over the pieces of scattered wood and walked down the two steps into the courtyard. Diane and Rivers followed, but lingered on the bottom step and looked around them.
The wet courtyard was littered with rubble and tree branches. A complete tree leaned against what was left of the stables and rooms above; roof-tiles and bricks lay everywhere. Hugo Poggs' minibus w
as on its side at the comer of the house, while Mack's old truck was beyond the gates, its front caved in by the oak it had come to rest against. Diane's Escort had vanished, as had the intruders' vehicle, and Rivers shivered when he thought of the storm's power.
He remembered how they had sheltered together through the night in Hazelrod's hall, himself, Diane, the children, all huddled around Hugo Poggs, protecting him with their own bodies, Bibby's corpse lying only a few feet away. Rivers had thrown the other two dead bodies out into the porch, and now they were gone too, along with the porch itself and its other contents.
It had been a terrifying night, the worst moments when the cyclone was directly overhead. It had sucked at the house, taking new glass from the windows-and even bricks from the walls. But the storm had not entered and they had remained safe, even though Hazelrod had shuddered and strained around them and branches, leaves and objects had flown into the windows.
The bodies of the woman called Mama Pitie and the third man who had been with her had disappeared like the other two. And so had Mack's. Rivers wondered where they would be found.
Incredible though it seemed, those inside the house had all fallen asleep, the twins first, then Diane, and finally Rivers himself. And when they woke, daylight was streaming through the open doorway and they could hear the birds outside singing. It was a sound that Rivers had thought they might never hear again.
Soon they would have to get a doctor to Hugo, although Josh and Eva had worked their special magic with him only a short while ago, touching his chest, soothing his pain, calming him so that now he was sleeping peacefully. Another crisis might arise when he awoke and realized Bibby was gone from him, but Diane would be there to administer sedatives. They had moved Bibby's body into the living room and covered it with a sheet. The twins had wept over her, but for the moment, as with most children of their age and younger, the new dawn had brought fresh promise to their young lives and the bad thoughts were cast aside. They would grieve later, but for now something had happened to them, something that neither they nor Rivers and Diane understood, but its wonderment was there shining in their faces.
He thought of the portents, the lights, and knew somehow he had been right: the lights were from the people themselves, their own inner warnings manifested in this strange form through powers that were still beyond mankind's own comprehension.
He slipped his arm around Diane's waist-an arm that had been broken the night before and was now miraculously healed-and she leaned against him, her hand finding his. They watched Josh and Eva wheel around, their faces upturned towards the other miracle that was in the sky.
The rainbows were everywhere, graceful arches that stretched for miles and miles, some beneath others, some breaking through their neighbours' gentle slopes, their mixed colours creating new shades and hues, all soft to the eye.
Their beauty was uplifting and, although Rivers did not know in what condition the world had been left, how many battles such as theirs had been fought that night, he had hope.
The spectacle of the rainbows gave him that.
***
'You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of our grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.
This we know. The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. This we know. All things are connected like the blood which unites one family. All things are connected.
Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand on it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.'
CHIEF SEATTLE'S TESTIMONY, 1854
James Herbert, Portent
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